#backdoor cities | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

detachedminxsfics · 10 months

Text

Motel

Masterlist

Characters: Negan (Dead City) x F!Reader

Summary: You've grown particularly close with the Motor Inn's personal walker killer and decide to pay his motel room a visit.

Word count: 4.5K

Warnings: NSFW - Oral (m receiving), vaginal sex, hair pulling, shower sex, praise, dirty talk, negan's usual foul mouth, gentle dom negan

A/N: If you're from my tiktok (which spawned the chaos that motivated me to finish most of this bc you guys are crazy), hello! This is my first time managing to actually finish and upload a oneshot in months, so I apologise in advance. I was also extremely tired when I wrote most of this, but I hope it was worth the wait for the handful of you bombarding my comment sections for the past 24 hours. 😂 I knew what I had to do the moment I saw that shower scene...like damn.

You downed your third shot of the day before slamming it back down onto the counter and wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes idly following the neon lights on the sign hung proudly behind the bar. The Easy Stay Motor Inn. It was a shithole. It only served as a way of keeping four walls and a roof over your head, and walkers off your ass. Speaking of, there was only one guy you'd grown particularly fond of during the month you'd spent working for the lady who owns this place and lapping up the amenities of their accompanying motel, Negan. He wasn't from around here, that much you gathered just by taking one good look at him, but then neither were you. You were both drifters. Heading from one place to the next, never staying anywhere long enough to see it through and find out whether it'd go to shit or hold out long enough before eventually falling to pieces. You just kept moving. That mentality had served you well so far and had kept you alive long enough to say that you'd made it well over a decade into the apocalypse now, not that you had much to show for it.

"Want another?" The guy behind the bar asked, half expecting you to agree to it as you had with all the others and making his way over to the bottle of vodka you'd been chipping away at.

"No thanks", you shook your head with a small smile and slid off the bar stool, "I'm gonna go try to entertain myself someplace else, but don't be surprised if I come back and finish that off later." You gestured to the vodka with a tilt of your head, and the certainty in your tone had the bartender smiling.

You headed towards the backdoor that led to the motel out back, the harsh change of lighting making you squint and shield your eyes to adjust for a moment, the dim vivid hues of the neon-lit windowless bar you'd been sitting in for the past hour or two being snuffed out once you stepped into the natural sunlight. Visual disorientation aside, you made your way down the row of motel rooms lined at your side, your interest only lying with the idea of arriving at one motel room in particular, and you stopped in front of the door when you found it. The door was a stark black to match the wooden panels sitting on either side of the window not too far from the right of the door, vines having wrapped around some of the slats in the wood from the overgrowth of shrubbery on the floor beneath it. It was run down and uncared for like just about anywhere else in this world. You tested the handle to see if the door was unlocked and to your surprise, it was. Twisting it fully you pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it behind you as you began to observe the interior of the room. It was generically decorated like just about any other room in this place, and he didn't seem to have left anything behind for you to snoop through. The room was so empty that if you didn’t know any better you might have thought that he'd moved on already, packed up all his shit and hit the road. You figured that this was on purpose and probably explained why he didn't care too much when it came to keeping the door locked since he didn't have any shit to steal. Smart.

Negan hadn't been around for too long now, in fact, he'd only arrived about a week after you, but he left a lasting first impression. He was useful. He pulled his weight by taking care of any of the walkers that roamed or wandered into the perimeter of the motor inn, and was never bad company on the occasions that he'd sat on the bar stool next to you and made conversation. As time went on you'd gotten closer and more comfortable with one another, and you quickly found yourself noticing that Negan was the one person you'd opened up to the most in the duration of your entire stay here, better yet felt the most comfortable doing so with. Your vulnerability wasn't one-sided, either. He never went into an awful load of detail, but he had a bad past. He wasn't on the run per se, but there was a group of people that he was hoping to avoid the possibility of encountering for the rest of his days, a community that he had a difficult history with. He alluded to what seemed to mostly amount to horrible shit that most people had done by now just to stay alive, the kind of things you see at night when you close your eyes, haunting you from the backs of your eyelids. You paid it no mind, and you told him that too; he seemed to appreciate your lack of judgement. Gradually, the conversations grew more personal and not so casual, things got flirty. It was subtle, but Negan would make small coy comments on things that you say, or little compliments now and again that toed the line a tad too much for what could be considered harmless flattery or him shooting his shot. You were able to keep yourself humble up until the night when he had jokingly mentioned how good your ass looked in your jeans after more than a few drinks, not that he needed it to let you know just how much he was checking you out. Your thoughts were interrupted by the twist of the doorknob and the sight of it being pushed open afterwards, revealing a rather sluggish and slightly dishevelled-looking Negan. Negan had a silver beard that he seemed to keep well-maintained, the hair decorating his top lip thicker than the rest. His dark hair was always slicked, though it seemed to have transitioned to more of an ashy brown over time with grey tinging at the sides of his hair. He was ruggedly handsome, that was for sure. A grin crept onto his lips when he noticed you standing by one of the beds, closing the door behind him and running his hand through his hair, slicking some of the strands that had fallen out of place in the process.

"Just letting yourself into my place now, huh? We graduating from drinking buddies to whatever the hell this is?" He quipped but was amused by how bold you were to just waltz on into his motel room.

"It's not like you don't want me here." You remarked with a knowing smile as you sat on the end of one of the double beds, to which Negan chuckled and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, a seemingly small mannerism of his that always drove you wild.

"Touché."

He sauntered to the bed next to you until he stood at the foot of it and started to shrug off his leather jacket with a sigh.

"Well whatever it is honey, it's gonna have to wait. I have been out there cracking rotting skulls for who knows how long, and now I need a damn shower."

The checkered flannel shirt he'd been wearing open underneath it was next, him tossing it on the bed in front of him before his fingers brush over the hem of his black tank top. He glanced at you with the material still pinched between his fingertips, a cocky smile creeping onto his lips as he noticed the way you were shamelessly staring at him and didn't seem to plan on stopping anytime soon.

"You gonna watch me strip now too, darlin'?"

You playfully shrugged and let your eyes wander down his torso, an eye movement Negan most certainly followed judging by the way his smile grew, as did his ego.

"I can turn around if you're too shy, Negan."

The throaty chuckle he let loose was almost immediate, his eyebrows raised as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Me, shy? Fuck no. You can stare your little heart out, and you would most definitely be staring."

Well, you certainly hadn't expected him to take it with such pride, so you caved and turned so you were facing the wall next to the bed. You could hear the sounds of clothes falling against the sheets and the clinking of metal as he undid his belt, and then the zipper on his leather pants.

"You still thinking of sticking it out here for a bit longer? I know last time we spoke you weren't so sure." Negan muttered as he got his pants down to his ankles and started to try to shake his ankles out of them.

You thought for a moment, then sighed a little.

"I think so? I don't know, I'm just trying to go day by day. Why, would you miss me?" Your tone picked up towards the end as did the enthusiasm in your voice, the suggestion making Negan's sudden laughter start in the form of a snort.

"Miss you? Shit, course I would. I'd probably move on from here after that."

You opened your mouth to speak but found yourself unable to form the right words. He made it sound like you were the only reason he was still staying here, and that without you there'd just be no point. You didn't ask him to elaborate though, just silently rolled the thought around in your head.

"Well, time to take that shower. I'll be right back, and I don't know maybe we can grab a drink or some shit afterwards?"

"Sure." You mumbled in response.

After that all you heard was the soft tread of his footsteps as he made his way past you and into the bathroom, then the sound of the water being turned on and beginning to crash against the floor of the shower for a few moments before it became more muffled with Negan's body interrupting the stream, and you turned back to face something other than the blank yellow wall you'd be staring at whilst he was stripping. You did your best to focus on the small details of the room to occupy your head, the peculiar framed pictures decorating some of the walls, and the hideous design choices when it came to the taste of the room, but it was no use. All you could think about was what Negan had looked like underneath all those clothes when he was a mere few feet behind you, and what he looked like right now standing in the shower in the very next room, the image of water droplets trailing down his torso and body making it harder to stay seated with every passing second until you just couldn't take it anymore. You stood to your feet and made your way to the bathroom, standing in the doorway for a moment as you stopped in your tracks. The shower had a sliding door that Negan had slid shut, the distortion of the glass still allowing you to be able to make out the sight of him with his head tilted town and one of his palms pressed up against the wall, and the tattoo decorating his shoulder blade. There was no turning back now, you had made up your mind. You approached the glass and gave it a soft knock, the sound startling Negan a little as he turned and slid the glass just enough for him to lean into the gap he'd made.

"Everything okay?" He asked, concern tinging his voice as he used his other hand to sweep some of the hair that had fallen into his face back in place.

Your only response was the sight of your fingertips grasping the hem of your top before you pulled it over your head, holding the top in your hands for a moment as you gazed at him, trying to gauge Negan's reaction to your now exposed breasts. He seemed taken aback for a moment or two, and then his eyes darkened with lust.

"Can I join you?" You asked, fingers teasingly dancing along the waistband of your jeans as though you could tell by just the look in his eyes that he wasn't going to deny your offer.

He didn't.

"Fuck yeah you can." He rasped with a shit-eating grin, leaning back and pushing the sliding glass all the way open to make room for you to join him.

You stripped until there was nothing left, discarding all of your clothes into a pile on the tiled bathroom floor and stepping into the shower with him. The first thing you noticed was the heat. The steam from the hot water, the heat coming from Negan's body, all of it swarming your body with warmth. Then, him. All of him. From the water droplets falling from the scruff of his beard, the dark hair decorating his chest and trailing down the centre of his torso, and even the skull tattoo inked on the right side of his chest. The man was gorgeous. Your eyes dragged down his body, drinking in every inch of him until you got to the part you'd been anticipating most, but were interrupted. He cupped the underside of your jaw and urged your head back up, his thumb brushing along your chin as the tip of his thumb traced just along the edge of your bottom lip.

"You like what you're seeing, huh?" He seemed to be making more of a statement than genuinely asking, but you entertained him nonetheless.

"A lot." You replied simply, the intense and lustful look your eyes were lit with corrupting your stare as your eyes bore into his.

"Good."

He used the hold on your jaw to guide your lips to his, his lips claiming yours. The hand that had been cupping your chin moved to grasp the nape of your neck, his other hand gripping your hip and drawing your body against his. You could feel him hard against your thigh as he groaned into the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth so you could taste him and his hands keeping you pressed firmly against his body, your own hands beginning to wander from the top of his chest down to his abdomen. The water cascading down his shoulders caressed along your fingertips and down your breasts, the warm water trailing down your body whilst he continued to move his lips against yours until you couldn't breathe, and you were forced to pull back for air. The moment you did Negan dove his head into the crook of your neck and pressed his lips against your pulse point, gently sucking the skin there and occasionally teasing it between his teeth in a way that was sure to leave marks, his beard scratching along your jaw as he did. The attention he paid your neck had your hand rushing up the nape of his neck and into his hair, combing your fingers through the back before taking a fistful of his wet strands. The slight tension on his scalp and the way your breath was shaking right by his ear made him pause for a moment to smile against your skin, a hoarse chuckle following shortly thereafter. The warmth of his breath from the laugh felt hot on your skin, and you used the strands of hair you'd taken in your palm to urge his head back until his face was inches from yours again. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip when you found your voice.

"You've thought about this before haven't you, fucking me?"

His brows raised at your boldness, the corners of his mouth fighting a smile.

"Damn right I have. I'd have to be blind or crazy not to, you are easy on the eyes, darlin'."

"Oh?" You tilted your head as you feigned mock surprise, his eyes looking you over like you were good enough to eat, and you might just let him.

Slowly you leaned in and seductively ran your tongue over his lips, finishing with a small kittenish flick at his top lip before leaning back. You soaked up the wanton look in his gaze when you sank to your knees, your eyes locked with his all the while. Now kneeling on the floor of the shower you reached up and closed your hand around his shaft, the way his breath caught in his throat once he felt your touch giving you the encouragement you needed to lean in and run your tongue over the swollen tip, beads of precum gathering along your tongue as you did. As you licked at it you felt Negan's fingers stroke over your hair before he started to gather it in his hand, all of your hair soon clutched into his fist like a makeshift ponytail.

"Don't be a tease." He warned as he slid his free hand underneath your chin and cupped it, allowing him to use both the grip on your hair and your jaw to urge you forward.

Willingly your lips parted, his cock sliding past your lips and into your mouth.

"Fuuuck, there we go." Negan slurred as he slid further into your mouth, stopping just before he reached your throat.

He grunted once you flattened your tongue on the underside of his shaft and leant forward, bracing one of his hands against the tiled wall of the shower when he lowered his head to look at you.

"Shit, you look so good with a mouthful of cock." He rasped crudely with the dirtiest smile before pushing himself down your throat, and you fought the urge to gag as he did.

He started to move his hips, the motion prompting you to place your hands just above his knees for support whilst he slid in and out of your throat. Soon enough tears began to well in your eyes, the urge to choke too great as you finally gagged on him, the sensation making Negan momentarily screw his eyes shut before sliding out of your mouth. He let you breathe for a moment or two before he was already pushing down your throat again, his groans getting louder and deeper with every thrust.

"Ohh, good girl." He cooed, his sounds of pleasure gradually turning into a blatant string of curses as he repeatedly thrust down your throat, and you shamelessly took every single inch.

Eventually, the movement of his hips got slower, his moans getting louder until finally his hips stuttered and his abdomen began to tense. He tightened his grip on your hair, the harsh grasp burning your scalp, and then you felt the hot wet spurts of warm liquid coating your tongue. You waited until you knew he'd spilt every last drop and then carefully removed him and swallowed his release, your breath a little laboured whilst Negan hovered above you with totally ragged, uneven breath, his eyes half-lidded as he tried to come down from the high of his orgasm. A few tears had escaped your waterline and slid down your cheeks as he fucked your throat, but it had mixed with the occasional stream of water trickling down your face from the shower.

"You did so good, baby. So good." He praised as he finally released your hair from his hand and started gently running his fingers through it instead, his touch soothing some of the pain he'd inflicted upon your scalp.

You stayed like that for a moment just listening to the sound of the water until you felt his hand leave your hair and the sight of him extending it out in front of you for you to take, which you did. He helped you to your feet and wrapped his arm around your waist the second you straightened your back, his mouth crashing against yours and allowing him to taste himself on your lips, the urgency with which he kissed you making you moan into the kiss a little. Whilst he stole your air Negan guided you backwards until your back came to press against the steamy tiled wall, the condensation pooling on the tiles smearing against your skin, and the faint coolness to it making you gasp. You wrapped your arms around Negan's neck to draw him in closer, your hips subconsciously moving to bring your groin against his and allowing his still proudly hard cock to brush against your inner thigh. You broke the kiss to try to regulate your unsteady breathing, leaning back just enough so that your lips were practically still brushing, the hot heavy pants Negan breathed against your lips making you need him all the more.

"Negan?"

"Yeah?"

"I need you inside me."

He couldn't hold back the dangerous look his eyes filled with when you whispered exactly what you needed, an arrogant look in his eye as he leaned back and cockily smiled.

"Your wish is my command, sweetheart. C'mere."

He slid his hands all the way up the backs of your thighs, towards your outer thigh, and then took hold of your hips. The gesture prompted you to do a small jump that allowed Negan to hoist you up and trap you between the wall and his body, your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands moved to cup your ass. In one calculated movement Negan lined himself up and sank inside you, the way you stretched around him eliciting a filthy moan from your lips almost immediately.

"That feel good, baby?" He purred, his voice full of arrogance.

He knew it did, he just wanted to hear you say it.

"Yes, god yes." Was all you could manage as he set a hard and intense pace, drawing all the way out before slamming back inside you, the feeling of fullness with every thrust making your mouth fall open.

One of your hands slid down his chest, his dark chest hair brushing up against your fingers as you did, whilst the other slid up his shoulder and moved to rest on the nape of his neck. His fingers were digging into your skin with the grip he had on you, strands of your hair clinging to the condensation of the tiled walls as you slightly threw your head back, uncontrollable sounds of pleasure spilling from your lips from the way he roughly fucked into you. The overwhelming sensation caused you to idly weave your fingertips in the hair at the top of his neck and run your hands through the back of his hair, occasionally tugging at it when he buried himself especially deep and you could do nothing but squirm in his grip. The water was still running just off to Negan's side, the hot water wasting onto the floor and creating a small pool at his feet. With the way you'd angled your body it allowed him to lean in and lick a stripe up the valley between your breasts, your skin feverishly hot against his tongue as he gathered some of the water droplets and left nothing but a trail of spit before beginning to kiss up your throat. He littered your neck with kisses, moving his affections to the side of your neck before planting a few kisses along your jaw, his stubble scratching along the side of your face all the while. It felt like heaven. You couldn't think about anything other than his touch, the way his mouth shamelessly marked your skin, the sounds of his heavy breath and the guttural groans spilling from his throat like music to your ears. By this point your sweet moans grew to resemble sobs, your legs slightly shaking in his hold as Negan thrust into you over and over, and a feeling started to burn in the pit of your stomach unlike anything you had ever felt before.

"Negan." was all you managed to choke out, practically in the form of a cry.

All you felt was his lips claiming yours, and the occasional parting of your lips just enough for him to whisper into the kisses.

"I got you, I got you, baby." He swore over and over, his gentle reassurance paired with his hard thrusts tipping you completely over the edge, and your whimpers getting lost in his heated kisses.

You feel the knotting in your abdomen just before everything comes crashing over you, waves of pleasure ripping through your body and making you clench around him as Negan continues to fuck you throughout your high, your mind hazed with overstimulation. Eventually his movements began to stutter, his abdomen clenching amidst the deep v-lines framing his hips, and a string of gravelly curses poured from his mouth. Carefully, Negan unwrapped one of your legs from his waist and urged you to set it down on the floor of the shower, the other still wrapped around his hips as he held it there. His free hand moved down to his shaft, wrapping his hand around it and giving it a few quick strokes until he finally came. His hold on your leg became more of a firm squeeze as he threw his head back a little and grunted, liquid splashing over the top of your inner thigh and beginning to gradually trickle down your leg. The bathroom was full of steam now, the air thick with humidity and both of your chests rising and falling rapidly as you both tried to catch your breath. After a few moments you felt Negan place your other leg down, his release still dribbling down your skin as you tried to come down from your incalculable high. His breath evened out a little, his eyes still half-lidded when his hazel eyes locked with yours, his gaze capturing you amidst the knowing grin playing on his lips. You were totally fucked out, and the sight made him chuckle.

"That good, huh?" He teased with raised brows, his tongue dragging over his bottom lip making you playfully roll your eyes and manage a small laugh.

"Shut up."

You'd give credit where credit is due, the man knew what he was doing, but you couldn't allow yourself to stroke his almost nauseating large ego any further. He shook his head with a smile, both of his hands smoothing over your waist and then taking hold of it, using it to lead you towards him. You let him coax you to the space closer to the shower head, the water now splashing directly against the back of his neck and trailing down his body, droplets of water simultaneously forming along Negan's jawline and repeatedly falling from his wet beard. He kept one hand on your waist whilst the other held one side of your face, his eyes boring into yours. His head tipped forward so he could rest his forehead against yours, water sliding down his neck when he started to speak in almost a whisper at first.

"If I hit the road, I want you to come with me."

You thought you may have not heard him right at first and leant back with slightly wide eyes, shock etched into your features.

"Really?" You muttered.

"Yeah."

A moment of silence passed, the stare you shared serving as more of an answer than any words you could utter, but you parted your lips to speak and did anyhow.

"You've got yourself a deal."

#negan #negan smut #the walking dead negan #negan smith #negan twd #negan x reader #negan fanfiction #dead city #dead city negan #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd fic #twd negan #negan x you #daddy negan #jeffrey dean morgan

1K notes · View notes

thisfanisgonesorry · 8 months

Note

how about some quick fuck with hobie after the show? she gives him a nice bj in a quiet alley and he fingers her in the car otw home…

ty for the ask <3 i wrote most if the same day you sent it and then started dying, hopefully its good! got a lil lazy at the end because i have no object permanence but i tried my best :)

tags: smut, estab, blowjob/fingering duh, love the carfucking trope, public sex/voyeurism, almost caught oooo

🕷

We slid out the backdoor of the venue, and Hobie let out a long sigh. The tension quickly dissipated as he felt the fresh air on his face. “Fin’lly.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Long night.” He spoke, slumping against the concrete wall. “C’mere, love.” He opened his arms in a loose hug, gesturing for me to hug him back before he forcibly pulled me into it due to taking too long.

He pressed kisses into my neck the second that it was in kissing distance. His hands slowly, and taking their sweet time too, fell from around my shoulders to land around my waist, keeping me in place as he pressed his body wholly against me.

“Lovely girl.” He mumbled.

“I can feel you.” I smiled, whispering in his ear.

“Sorry.” He lied. “Y’re just so good.” That part had been truthful; his kisses found their way up my neck and onto my cheek before he kissed me sweetly on the mouth. “So good to me.”

There was an abrupt screaming heard from the main drag as the rest of the band left through the front door. Signing autographs, taking photos. The commotion was audible, and there was a moment of guilt for anyone trying to actually sleep in this city.

He turned his head to the sound, his eyebrows knitting slightly.

I slid out of his grip and kneeled on the dirty pavement, feeling the scraping against my skin. He turned his head quickly to meet my gaze, sucking in a sharp inhale as he held his hands awkwardly to his sides, not sure what else to do.

“Oh.. Fuck.” He breathed. “That.. ‘s good.”

“Mhm, you look real tense.” I answered back, rubbing my hands up his thighs. His hands awkwardly found their way to his crotch, being a gentleman, he unbuckles, unbuttons and unzips his pants and pulls himself out.

“Y’so good t’me. Y’know exactly what I need.” His breathing was quick, and he continued to look towards the screaming.

“No one knows we’re here.” I spoke, spitting in my hand and kissing his hip. I gingerly stroked his length, feeling his muscles tense at the touch.

“I know..”

I pressed a chaste kiss on the side of the base, watching all the air leave his lungs in anticipation. I continued slowly stroking him before licking a straight line up the backside of the whole length, then taking the tip in my mouth.

“Shit.” He hissed. “Love it when y’do that.”

I swirled my tongue on the underside of him, and his hand reached for the back of my head, not pushing; just holding. His eyes stayed glued on mine as I hollowed my cheeks and slowly took more in my mouth.

“That’s it, baby, shit, take it.”

The slow movement down was driving him crazy until eventually my nose pressed against his stomach, his mouth fell open and I held the position, feeling him twitch at the very back of my throat. I kept him there for a moment, and he was trying his best to not thrust into me.

“Y’look so fuckin’ hot on y’r knees in that cute li’l skirt. Could cum from jus’ seein’ my dirty girl like this.” He panted. “Can’t believe y’re suckin’ me off in an alleyway.”

I pulled off for air, kissing the side of his base again. “Can’t believe you’re lettin’ me.” I moved back, but this time I began to bob my head at a gracious pace, he grabbed a handful of hair but wasn’t tugging harshly.

I placed my hand on his, telling him it was okay, and he took that and ran with it, grabbing more hair and moving me back and forth on him, fucking my face but still being gentle enough to not make me deepthroat him.

His volume increased and he was cautious of the crowd of people just around the corner. There was only so long that he could last like this.

“Someone could catch us—” He started, choking out a groan and his dick twitching at his own ideas. “Fuck, the look on their face.. Seein’ m’cock down y’r throat.”

I pushed on his thighs, and he took the hint quickly, letting go of his movements and instead quickly started moving both of his hands to hold my hair in a makeshift ponytail, keeping it out of my way.

“Y’re so fuckin’ beautiful, love.” He commented, I moaned around him at his words and a low growl was his response. “Love the way y’r eyes look up at me. Love the way y’look on my prick, shit, y’re way too good f’me.”

His words were admittedly egging me on, making it so I started going faster and taking more of him. He groaned in response, his grip on my hair tightening as I wrapped my hands around him again, stroking what I couldn’t reach, my other hand wrapped from his thigh to the back of his leg, trying to ground myself.

“Baby, ‘m gonna cum.” He moaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back, careful enough to not slam it right against the concrete wall.

I hummed around him, expressing delight that he was there so quickly. His breathing got heavy and he weakly thrust into the blowjob, ruining the rhythm but it was getting him off.

“Y/n—” He whined, his gaze falling back down to me and he pulled me off of him, quickly wrapping his hand around mine.

I poked my tongue out, keeping my mouth open as his hand guided mine to stroke him to completion. Quick, long strokes that made him swallow thickly, trying to contain his noises so the crowd didn’t know we were here.

“Hobie.” I breathed, letting him feel my hot breath on his aching skin.

I moved my head up slightly, pressing my tongue flat against the bottom of his tip, he let out a loud curse, followed by a mess of groans and moans as he came on the wet softness of my tongue.

He panted, begging for air as he watched it pool on my tongue. I held it on display for him as he quickly tucked himself away, making quick glances to the crowd’s noises. His eyes silently begged for me to swallow him, going wide in anticipation.

I dramatically swallowed his spend, letting him hear the gulp sound.

“I don’t deserve you.” He said matter-of-factly, pulling me to my feet. “I gotta get you home..” He trailed off, speaking to himself as he quickly walked us to the car. 🕷 Halfway through the drive home, his hand on my thigh started exploring more, gradually going higher.

“Bet y’re so wet.” He groaned in admittance to his thoughts, letting his fingers brush against my panties and confirming his suspicions. “That from blowin’ me?” He tried to joke, but it didn’t land when all the air left his lungs and it came across like a desperate plea for validation.

“Course it is.” I responded back, biting my lip and trying not to squirm at his invasive touch as he groped what he could.

He let out a shaky exhale as he slid his hands through the waistband of the panties, his eyes kept flicking to me, glancing briefly before focusing on the road. In the middle of the city, this would not be the place to lose attention.

He ran his index and middle finger up and down the wetness briefly before pushing them in, inwardly cursing at himself when he felt the wetness swallow him.

“Such a perfect pussy.” He praised. “Love fuckin’ this pussy, love how it clenches around me, jus’ like that.”

I covered my mouth with my hand and looked out the window, squirming under his touch and biting back any sounds that threatened to leave my mouth.

“Babyy..” He cooed.

“What?” I hesitantly responded, turning to him.

“Make them pretty noises f’me.”

“Hobie, we’re.. Mhm.. Focus on the road.” I answered, stifling moans. He spoke sweetly and adoringly, as if he wasn’t knuckle deep inside of me.

“‘M gonna fuck y’brains out.” He said bluntly despite how loving it sounded. “Bet y’re gonna make a mess all over m’carseat, yeah?” He commented, fingering at a steady pace.

I tried to close my legs around his hand but it was useless, I turned away from him again, hiding my flushed face. “Hobie..” I whined, grabbing his hand. “An alleyway is one thing, but in the car is another.”

“What? Scared some fans might come up to the window?” He teased, struggling to keep his eyes on the road. The city was packed full of fans, walking around post-show, and every now and then, he’d be recognised through the car window.

I helplessly tried to grind against his hand, chasing the orgasm, however he halted the moments, using his elbow to push me into the seat and stop moving around.

“Relax. I’ll be good to you.”

“I know.”

“Are you gonna let y’self go?” He spoke sweetly, continuing his actions.

There was a moment of silence where all that filled the air was desperate pants as he did what he wanted. He carefully drove through the streets as if nothing was happening, completely as oblivious as the outside world.

I grabbed at his hands, lifting my hips for a better angle and glancing out the window. “So many people are staring at us.”

“They ain’t got a clue, love.” He responded with a cocky tone. “Y’re fuckin’ y’self on my hands, but y’still worried about someone catching you?”

“Shut up..” I mumbled, still looking out the window to avoid his gaze as I tried to ride his fingers in the small amount of room I had to move.

“Speak up.” He spoke, doubling his efforts. “Look at me, pretty girl.”

I finally turned to him, resting against the headrest, he was trying to keep eye contact while also driving safely. “The road.” I spoke through stifled moans.

“Y’really gonna take away the best part of this f’me?” He joked, keeping his attention on the road. “I gotta see y’cum or gotta hear it. Which one, darlin’?”

“Fuck, Hobie.” I finally moaned out after denying it to myself (and him); “You’re so annoying.” I laughed softly, though the laugh ended quickly as another moan escaped my lips.

“Can’t take y’seriously right now.” He joked back.

“Eyes forward.”

“Look at you, takin’ my fingers so damn well.” He praised, keeping his elbow pressed against my stomach, limiting my squirming. He wanted complete control over how I’d take him. He kept his eyes glued to the road, letting his mind wander as my sounds filled his ears.

“God, how are your hands that fucking good?”

“They were made for you.” He purred, an intoxicating sweetness to his words as he toyed with me. “Also, playing guitar helps.”

“Close.” I moaned. “Hate those stupid hands.”

“Can feel it. Can feel how much y’love ‘em.”

He paused, the car stopping at the redlight. “Hobes, please.” I whined, careful of bypassers, knowing that anyone could recognise us.

“Y’right there, darlin’, go on, baby.” He beckoned sweetly, I clenched around him and a low growl dragged from his throat. “Calm down a li’l, thought y’didn’t want anyone to see?”

He watched intently, his mouth falling agape, wanting to take in every detail on how I unwound with him fucking me in his carseat. It was a sight that he’d print onto the back of his eyelids.

“Shit, right there—” I cried out, feeling it hit me fast and hard. I writhed against his hands in the car seat, praying that I wasn’t making a mess like he predicted. I rode it out as best I could, grinding helplessly.

“That’s it.. Always so pretty f’me.”

He pulled his fingers out, sticking them between his lips and tasting the sweetness as I covered myself, pulling my skirt down to be decent.

“Y’taste so damn good.”

“That was..” I hummed, he leant over the console, pressing a kiss on my lips and placing his hand back on my thigh.

“I know.” He smiled, his eyes glancing to the window.

There was a knock on the window and he smiled at them. My eyes went wide and my cheeks flushed. “Oh my god.” I mumbled.

He rolled the window down in the console, leaning over me to talk to the fan. The light stayed red with a long line of traffic ahead of us. I covered my face with my hand, resting my elbow on the car door, watching them interact.

They talked for a small moment and I felt the embarrassment rise in my chest. “Hobie, the lights green.” I mumbled, nudging him.

“Of course.” He smiled sweetly, waving goodbye to the fan and pulling away. The interaction ended shortly, and he nudged me as he leant back in his seat. “Y’re so red.” He laughed.

“How aren’t you mortified?”

“I don’t have stage fright.” He winked.

947 notes · View notes

artbyblastweave · 4 months

Text

Frederick Sinclair is a really interesting foil to Mr. House. I mean you start digging into this and it's just parallel after parallel after parallel. Start at the high level. House sinks inordinate amounts of resources into saving the city of Las Vegas - not the people, but the city- from nuclear destruction; as long as the stage endures, he can get anyone to wear the costumes. Sinclair sets up an entirely new "community" totally off-the-grid for the sake of protecting one woman, plasters that place with her likeness. House is a visionary with a 200-year action plan to rebuild society in his image, bootstrap space exploration, and construct an interplanetary empire; Sinclair sank everything he had into building the most secure facility possible for a woman who he knew was terminally ill anyway, just to ensure that her last few years lived in the aftermath of the nuclear apocalypse would be as comfortable as possible- there's a fundamental pessimism baked into what he was doing. Both House and Sinclair relied heavily on automated defensive systems and cutting-edge, esoteric technologies to accomplish their ends, but House built his power base on proprietary robotics and computing technology, much of which he personally designed- an outgrowth of his policy of never widening his circle any more than he absolutely has to. Sinclair, in his naive techno-optimism, outsourced his utopia, grabbing flashy third-party technologies like a kid in a candy store- opening a backdoor for the Think Tank to poison his city and ultimately getting everyone at the Gala Event killed when the holograms malfunctioned and went berserk.

Their management styles are inverse. House allows countless abuses to occur under his aegis because he subscribes to a libertarian-when-convenient philosophy where he doesn't much care what the little people do as long as he gets his cut and they don't rock the boat too much- a hands-off approach that fosters resentment amongst his subordinates, lets the White Gloves and Omertas get up to untold levels of fuckery while Freeside languishes and Benny conspires against him. Sinclair, by contrast, had a sincerely-held utopian-straight-edge safety-first micromanagement approach built into the very bones of the casino, he appeared to genuinely give a shit about the safety of the construction crew on the villa, and he was well-liked by nearly everyone who had any direct contact with him- and yet untold horrors also went down under his aegis, because his myopic focus on building the vault for Vera let Dean Domino and the Think Tank run circles around him, good intentions be damned. Their respective interpersonal dispassion and obsession are on display in how they react to betrayal. House's tone never rises above exasperation when it comes time to clean house of Benny, the Omerta Leadership and the White gloves; he treats them as problems to be solved, gears that are slightly out of alignment; By contrast, when Sinclair learns that Dean and Vera have been playing him, he channels the monomaniacal energy he previously directed towards protecting Vera towards the goal of building the perfect poetic-ironic death trap for her and Dean.

There are some other parallels in their personal lives. For one thing they both trusted a pastiche of a 40s lounge singer a lot more than they should have. They both tried to digitize, immortalize their girlfriends- and the discrepancy in how they went about it is telling. House's recreation of Jane isn't terribly robust, and in terms of House's overall project she's an afterthought. She's more a sock-puppet than a person, a sanded-down copy of a woman who died forever-and-a-half ago, forever agreeable, never saying no. Convenient. Only the most superficial visual elements preserved- an illustration of her face on a robotic chassis. Sinclair was obsessive in recreating Vera, preserving her likeness. It's all over the villa, her hologram is everywhere, her voice is everywhere. The terminal in the lightwave lab in Old World Blues reveals that he was still obsessed with getting her hologram right even after the love curdled into hate. All of it a monument to the real woman, and yet in all of it the real woman is still lost, buried under the mythologized projection. He didn't respect the real person enough to let her know that she was dying. A total failure of preservation from the opposite direction. (Except in the suites, where you can hear her very authentic dying pleas.)

You find both of them in their basements. House only looks a little better than Sinclair, but he's got much more of a voice in the narrative. He took steps to make sure he'd be around to tell you what he thinks about everything, fine-tuned the voice with which he speaks to the world, the face he presents. It matters to him that he gets to tell his own story. We find out a lot about House, from House; but for the kind of figure that he is, a shocking amount of what we learn about Sinclair comes from other people, people who knew him or wrote about him. The only image of him you can find is a downplayed element of a larger mosaic. The two documents you find that're written from his perspective have been buried for 200 years, and they're yards from his corpse. And the more recent of the two is an apology. I mean admittedly at the point where he wrote that apology Sinclair was personally turbofucked regardless. If the cloud didn't get him the holograms would have, or the radiation, or, or, or. You can read some level of ego into what he did in the face of that. But however futile it was, he died in the specific way that he did because he recognized that he'd done something awful, and he was trying everything he could think of to correct it. Somehow I find it very hard to imagine House doing either of those things- admitting fault or putting skin of his own in the game to make it right.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #mr house #frederick sinclair #meta #vera keyes #fallout jane #dead money #thoughts #fallout: new vegas #robert house

437 notes · View notes

kreumiya · 2 months

Text

★・fever dream part 1

taking care of the leader of Penacony while he's sick

Well, the leader of Penacony may seem like he doesn’t have any weaknesses, however… getting sick a day before a banquet the two of you were meant to attend was definitely one.

“Excuse me,” you said, pushing your way through the crowds of servants that had gathered outside of Sunday’s door. Maids, doctors, tourists, everyone of the sort was piling in. After all, not everyday did you hear the news that someone from The Family would get sick, even if it was just with an ordinary fever, they were quite closed off. Why do so many people have to be here? you thought, making it to the backdoor and letting yourself in, knowing that the bodyguards were already all too used to this occurrence.

“You’re here?”

Sunday looked up at you, smiling with a cloth half falling down his face. You walked towards his bed, noticing how intricate all the architecture seemed to be in his room. Plush velvet decorated his room in the farthest layer of the hotel. Taking a seat next to his bed, you took the cloth off his head, grabbing the basin and wringing out the water.

“You don’t have to–” he interjected, reaching for your hand. His hand was abnormally warm, especially so for someone like him, who you were so used to having hands cold to the touch.

“Well, I do have to so you can get better for the banquet,” you frowned and took the wet towel, placing it gently on his forehead. “If you don’t get better, who’s going to the banquet and hosting everyone? Surely you won’t let me, your poor assistant who’s only meant to accompany you, do it all by myself?” you let out a sigh, resting your head on his chest, hoping that you being dramatic would somehow cure all of his illnesses. He let out a small laugh and ran a hand through your hair.

“Of course not, I’m sure I’ll get better in no-time, don’t worry much,” Sunday smiled, his wings moving slightly. “And even if you were to host a banquet by yourself, I’m sure you’d be able to anyway. But I doubt you’d be able to deal with the Nameless, I myself aren’t sure about them either.”

You two lingered in silence for a few minutes before something crossed your mind.

“Oh right!”

You ran to the other bed, which was what took you to the Golden Hour dreamscape. Of course it was exactly as you remembered it, drunks and tourists of the like littered the place. And oddly enough, the bright lights of the city reminded you of how you had met Sunday – although that’s a story for another time…

Taking in the sound of the bustling city for another moment, you ran towards Sunday’s favourite shop, a cake shop that he had visited many times. Letting yourself choose the freshest cake with the great excuse that “Sunday would be eating this.” Soon you returned to the room, shoving the cake in between his hands.

“How’s it taste?” you grinned. It was his favourite food after all.

“Not bad….”

And soon you tucked him back into bed knowing that tomorrow would be a long day with a sick leader of Penacony and a large banquet that hosted everyone from all around the universe. You just couldn’t wait to be overworked, at least it was with Sunday.

Fever Dream Part 2

i have so many pulls for this man, probably ooc idk we've barely known him in story

#sunday hsr x reader #sunday #sunday hsr #penacony #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai #sunday x reader #fluff #hsr #hoyoverse #star rail #domestic fluff #ooc

299 notes · View notes

shuadotcom · 6 months

Text

Room with a View (M)

🩸Pairing: Vampire!Kim Mingyu x Human fem!Reader x Vampire!Jeon Jungkook

🩸Summary: “Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.”

🩸Genres & AUs: Smut, supernatural au, vampire au, pwp

🩸Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

🩸Words: 6.3k

🩸Warnings: Mention of alcohol, profanity, mentions of blood, shameless Mean Girls references

🩸Smut warnings: Threesome, vampire kink ig, oral (f & m receiving), semi-public sex, window sex, fingering, anal fingering (f receiving), biting, marking, dirty talk, pet names (baby, little mouse), unprotected sex (vampires can’t impregnate humans in this world bc i said so!) rough sex, double penetration, using cum as lube

🩸Note: For @kpopsblackcreatorsociety 's Blood & Bane event! Vampire Prompt: “Did you just fucking bite me?!”

This AMAZING banner is by my bby @playmetheclassics / @classicscreations and beta’d by my other bby @the-boy-meets-evil! A million smooches for you both!! 😙❤️ Oh and tagging the lovely @gyuwoncheol ❤️

“I’m a mouse, duh!” You’ve had to clarify that at least ten times tonight, much to your displeasure. You assumed that the black nightie, silver calf-high boots, and mouse ears would make your costume obvious, but so far, it’s seemed that everyone you’ve run into at this party either has never seen Mean Girls or doesn’t remember it. It’s a tragedy, truly.

It doesn’t help that most of your time at this party has been spent with just you by yourself. When only one of the four parts of a group costume is together, the whole idea doesn’t make the same impact. But, Jihyo and Jeongyeon, the Regina George and Grethen Wieners of your quartet in that order, disappeared together fifteen minutes after arriving. They’re likely hooking up in a room somewhere, still trying to hide from you and Sana that they’re dating. That’s added to the fact that Sana, the Cady Heron of the group, is spending time with the busy boyfriend she hasn’t seen in weeks. They had offered to let you hang out with them, but the last thing you wanted to be was a third-wheel.

That leaves just you, lingering by the back door with the same wine cooler you’ve been nursing for the last hour.

You don’t know many people here except for the host, Dongmin, and a few of your co-workers you’ve recognized, but aren’t close with. He’s the sweet, wealthy vice president at the new company you work at who always goes out of his way to greet you when he sees you in the office.

You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times at the few company events you’ve been to and during shared elevator rides, so you were surprised when he invited you to his annual Halloween party, but you wouldn’t dream of turning him down. You also knew he had a good amount of money, what with the company doing so well, but you had no idea he was this well-off.

His house has two floors and all of the rooms are spacious, bustling with people in Halloween costumes, dancing, talking, and knocking back drinks. Once you look past all of the partygoers, the view from the backdoor looks out at the city, all the lights in the distance looking magical from where the house sits on a hill in the nice, suburban part of town.

The view is honestly the most interesting part about tonight. You typically love Halloween, but this is the first party you’ve been to in a few years, plus you’re not friends with anyone else other than the three girls you came with. So far, this Halloween has been extremely uneventful.

“Karen Smith from Mean Girls, right? You’re a mouse?” A male voice you don’t recognize catches you off guard as you spin to see who it is.

To say you’re breathless at the sheer presence of the two men you come face-to-face with would be an understatement. They’re both tall and buff-looking - buff in the way that has your stomach doing flips. They’re clad in all denim outfits, their white shirts hugging each muscle underneath the cotton. Cowboy hats and boots complete their costumes, so you can easily deduce what they’re supposed to be. The man who you assume is the one who speaks is closest to you, smiling at you, pretty lips decorated with double lip rings.

They’re beautiful in the most stunning of ways that makes them not even seem real.

When you finally get a grip on yourself, you clear your throat, plastering on a smile. “Finally, someone at this party with taste! You’d be surprised how many people here have never seen Mean Girls.”

“A lot of people at this party aren’t much fun so that makes sense,” The other man speaks, rolling his eyes before fixing you with a look that appears as what you can only describe as hungry. “Speaking of, we haven’t seen you at one of Dongmin’s parties before.”

“Oh, yeah this is my friends and my first time here. Dongmin and I have worked at the same company for a few months. He invited me and as many people as I wanted to bring.”

“Remind us to thank Dongmin for that when we see him next,” Liprings smiles at you again, eyes sweeping over you from head to toe and you can feel the hairs on your arm stand on end under his appraisal. “I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“And I’m Mingyu,” Both men reach for your hands, each of them placing a kiss on them. The gesture is cheesy, but it still makes your skin heat up, cheeks burning as they gently let your hands go.

“I-I’m Y/n.” Forcing out a nervous laugh, you glance at their hat and boots and attempt to pivot the conversation. It’s not as though you didn’t want the attention they’re so clearly giving you, but you’ve never had men that looked this good so blatantly ogling you. Especially not two at the same time. You’re one more flirtatious look away from giggling like a schoolgirl in front of them.

“You know, just putting on cowboy boots and hats doesn’t make you cowboys.”

“And just wearing a headband doesn’t make you a mouse.” Jungkook fires back, grinning at you. Touché.

“You said you and your friends - where are they?” Mingyu asks, eyes sweeping the room.

“They’re all with their significant others.” You shrug, not trying to sound bitter. You’re happy for your friends, truly you are - you’re just reminded of how alone you are right now.

“Aw, well we’ll keep you company, little mouse,” Mingyu winks at you and the way you feel your thighs clench together at his words is utterly embarrassing. You’re almost mortified with yourself when you watch as both he and Jungkook glance down at your exposed thighs, noticing the gesture. That mortification is quickly washed away when Jungkook bites his lip and Mingyu’s smile grows.

All of a sudden, you’re acutely aware that it’s just you and two of the most handsome men you’ve ever been around. Face to face. There are plenty of people buzzing around you, but none of them are paying your trio any mind. Your heart races at this thought, glancing back out the window at the view into the backyard again.

“Everything okay, Y/n?” Jungkook’s voice is closer than you expect as he sidles up to your left, Mingyu moving to stand to your right.

“Yeah, of course, why do you ask?”

“You just seem nervous is all.”

“Nervous? I’m not nervous. I’m just…distracted. The, uh, the view of the city! It’s just so pretty. I’ve been admiring it all night.”

“Hmm. This is a really nice view,” Jungkook agrees.

“I know where you can see an even better view,” Mingyu adds, drawing both your and Jungkook’s attention to him.

“You do?”

“Yeah. We’re super close to Dongmin and we’ve been here a million times. He has a room upstairs that faces out to the backyard, but it’s a much better view than this. Wanna go check it out?”

You’d have to be an idiot not to guess where this was going and what else he intended with his words. He waits patiently, smiling at you and letting you think it over. A glance over your shoulder at Jungkook shows that he’s also waiting, eyes shifting to gaze outside while you think. Two hot guys basically tell you that they want to take you upstairs and hook up with you. It’s not the exact type of excitement you were looking for on Halloween, but it’s excitement nonetheless.

“Sure, let’s go. I’ll text my friends.”

“Perfect.” They wait for you to send a quick text to the group chat, letting the girls know who you’re going upstairs with and you see someone sends back a winky face emoji before you slip your phone in the clutch on your wrist.

Mingyu has you follow him out of the kitchen and through the crowd to the stairs with Jungkook behind you, his hand hovering over your lower back as he follows. When you reach the top of the stairs, Mingyu leads you to the left, down a hallway, and into a room at the end of the hall.

As soon as you step in, you see the wrap-around windows spanning the length of the wall in front of you. The curtains are all drawn and the expanse of the starry night is laid out so clearly. This room is in the corner of the house, but still faces the back, so you can see into the backyard and well across to the city skyline.

Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.

As if reading your mind the man in question chuckles, gesturing to the view. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah you were,” you wave at him, feeling flirty and brave enough to throw him a wink as you beeline straight for the window. The glass is clean enough that you can just make out your reflection.

“Why are you so attached to looking outside?” Jungkook questions from your left. When you turn to find him, he’s lounging in a plush chair that sits near the foot of the luxurious bed.

“I can just appreciate a good view is all.”

“So can I,” Jungkook’s voice is so confident when he says it. He’s likely used that same line a million times before and it’s worked.

You refuse to admit it works on you too.

“Smooth,” you still can’t help but roll your eyes. “This view is honestly just the most interesting thing I’ve looked at all night.”

A big, firm, body presses into your back, your breath catching in surprise. You hadn’t even heard Mingyu approach.

“Oh yeah? That’s the most interesting thing you’ve seen all night?” His voice is low as he speaks against your ear, this close to making your knees weak.

“Mmhmm. Haven’t really been given much else to look at,” you hope neither of them can hear how your voice trembles as Mingyu runs his hands down your arms, pressing his body against you more. He has you so close to the glass you need to raise your hands to stop yourself from becoming flush against it.

“Is that so?” Mingyu’s hands are soft as he brushes the edge of your lingerie, his fingertips grazing your bare thighs that the hem hangs above. His hands are colder than you thought they’d be, but the chill is welcome on your blazing skin.

“I guess I need something more interesting to look at.” Your eyes shift up in an attempt to meet his in the reflection of the glass but…all you see is yourself and nothing else? “Mingy-oh!,” your last word is clipped when Mingyu steps back and takes hold of your hips to pull you a little ways away from the window. Immediately after, he pushes you forward to bend at the waist. Your hands press against the glass again, this time to keep you from toppling forward onto your face.

“Be careful, baby.”

“Wh - sh-shit!” Your question dies on your lips when you feel Mingyu spread your plush thighs and presses his face against your exposed pussy, his tongue prodding at the fabric of your panties to push both into your wet hole.

“You can look at your reflection while I eat you out. I’m sure the face you make when you cum all over my tongue will be interesting enough.”

“Oh, or how about all those partygoers outside in the backyard? Isn’t it just so interesting how if anyone looked up and stared long enough, they’d see you bent over with your tits falling out?” Jungkook’s tone is so aggravatingly teasing, but he’s right.

There are quite a few people stationed and talking around the yard. If someone truly wanted to, it would be pretty easy to see what’s going on in the room. The thought sends fear and another wave of arousal throughout you.

“Mm, I think she likes that thought, JK. She got so much wetter.”

“So dirty, little mouse.”

“I - fuck!” It’s frustrating how Mingyu keeps touching you in all the right ways, his movements constantly scrambling your brain and derailing your train of thought.

His fingers push your panties to the side and his mouth immediately latches onto your clit, sucking a few times before his tongue eases into your entrance, the intrusion pushing out an unabashed moan from your chest.

Your fingers scramble to grip the glass, only to slide with a squeak as Mingyu laps at you as far as his tongue can reach. Your hips begin rolling against his face as he works at you, the need to cum dangling dangerously close.

There have been plenty of other times you’ve let someone eat you out, but nothing can compare to the way this beautiful stranger plunges his tongue into your dripping hole, the obscene slurping sounds he makes are the only sound ringing in your ears other than your desperate whines.

“God, you look so good like this, little mouse. Your legs are trembling.” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the haze clouding your brain. “Can’t wait to get my hands on you.”

“What are you w-waiting for, then?” You attempt to sound confident and sexy, but your words are more whiny than anything. Even so, you hear Jungkook chuckle before the sound of him getting out of the chair and making his way over you catches your attention. He’s taken his denim jacket off at some point and you practically drool at the sight of his fitting white t-shirt and tattoo-decorated arm on display.

He raises one of his hands, trailing it over your back and down to your ass. Mingyu already pushed your nightie up enough to get access to you, but Jungkook bunches it up all the way, the delicate fabric resting above your ass to give him access. He brings his hand down once, landing a spank on one of your cheeks.

Electricity surges through your body at the sting and you jump. Your hips respond by pushing back, obviously begging both men for more.

From behind you, Mingyu grunts, and, as if answering your wordless request, you feel his finger ease into your entrance, replacing his tongue. He’s still cold and you let out a yelp at the temperature, but you easily melt into him as his digit plunges into your heat.

Jungkook is still standing next to you, chuckling at the way you writhe, even bending over a little more.

“Asking to be spanked again, baby?” He hums, cold hand caressing your ass.

“Yes, please!” Your knees are so, so close to giving out as you can feel your orgasm creeping up closer and closer. Mingyu’s finger keeps working at you and he soon adds a second. Heart hammering against your chest, you rest your forehead against the cold glass, nearly ready to collapse at the pleasure.

“Alright, well now you gotta share, Gyu,” Jungkook’s voice reminds his friend before he grabs at you to stand you upright.

Mingyu, still on the floor, makes a displeased sound, frowning up at his friend.

“Yeah, yeah. You can still eat her out, but I want her mouth. Is that alright with you, little mouse?”

“Hell yes, it is,” you breathe out, still trying to right yourself after Mingyu’s assault on your pussy.

Jungkook smiles at you, and it takes your breath away in another way. How the fuck were you so lucky to end up here like this with men who looked this good?

With his hand holding yours, he leads you to the bed, Mingyu trailing behind as his fingers graze any part of your skin he can reach. Once you reach the bed, both men work together in lifting your nightie over your head and slowly peeling away your bra and panties, leaving kisses over your newly exposed skin.

The three of you are a flurry of hands as you tug on the hem of Jungkook’s shirt with one hand while reaching behind your back to find the button on Mingyu’s jeans.

When you’re finally naked, (save for your mouse ears which both men beg you to leave on), Mingyu spins you around and leans down to pull you into a kiss. His lips are impossibly soft as you melt into him, his tongue poking out to brush against your bottom lip a few times. You open for him immediately, allowing the man to wrap his tongue around yours before sucking the muscle into his mouth.

Tiny mewls slip out of you, getting swallowed by Mingyu as he kisses you hard enough to bruise you, letting you taste yourself on him. Jungkook’s hands skate over your hips, your stomach, and up to your breasts. He rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging on the buds as his teeth graze your shoulders and neck. Mingyu continues to muffle every sound you make, and one hand, the one not currently cradling the back of your head, snakes down, down, down until he dips a finger between your thighs. He’s met with your wetness, already coating the tops of your inner thighs.

Your eyelids flutter as both sets of hands hold you, your arousal building with every tweak and every poke.

A different kind of poke on your neck makes you yelp though, flinching your head back from Mingyu to try and get a look at Jungkook.

“Did you just fucking bite me?!”

The tattooed man chuckles and cocks his head at you, amused at your reaction.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you’re into that?”

“I am, I was just surprised. Your teeth are sharp.” You don’t mind marking and being bitten, but it’s never been almost painful when past partners have done it.

Although truth be told, you didn’t mind one bit that it hurt.

He pouts at you, apologizing but still asking if you’re sure you’re okay with it. You promise you are and that’s all Jungkook needs to spin you around and crash his lips into yours. The chill of his lip rings is as cold as his lips, but just like every other chilled part of both him and Mingyu, you don’t mind at all.

Jungkook’s kisses are messier than Mingyu’s, his tongue immediately diving into your mouth to lap at every part of you. He alternates between making out with you as if his life depended on it and nibbling at your bottom lip, his teeth catching on the swollen skin now and again. It’s Mingyu’s turn to lavish your shoulders and neck with attention as he too sucks and nips at your skin, his teeth pricking your hot skin as he goes.

He leaves you panting when he finally lets you up for air and you can practically feel your arousal dripping down your thighs from the dual sensations.

“Your lips are fucking amazing,” Jungkook grumbles, dark eyes fixing you with a look that has you swooning. “I wanna feel them on my dick now,”

You nod eagerly, likely resembling a bobblehead, and he and Mingyu both laugh at your eagerness. They help you get comfortable on the bed, having you kneel across it on all fours. Jungkook takes his position in front of you, his cock hard and already leaking precum. Mingyu shuffles on the bed behind you, running his hands over your ass, and you instinctively arch for him.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he hums, swiping his finger through your wetness and you hear him suck it into his mouth behind you. “And you taste even better.”

“Hey, you need to share, remember? I wanna taste,” Jungkook pouts at Mingyu over your shoulder and you feel Mingyu’s hand between your thighs again, gathering more of you, and this time, he reaches forward and offers his finger to Jungkook. The man in front of you cranes his neck forward to suck his friend's finger into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks for a moment before letting go with a ‘pop.’

Jungkook flashes a sly smile, licking his lips as he looks down at you. “Gyu is right. You’re absolutely delectable, little mouse. I’ll have to taste it straight from the source some other time.”

The gears in your brain work overtime, registering that he’s alluded to there being a next time for the three of you.

Mingyu’s tongue is diving into your cunt again which derails any other train of thought. Your mouth hangs open, a moan tumbling out in response. Jungkook uses that opportunity to tap the head of his cock against your bottom lip.

“This okay, baby?” He asks. When you let out an affirmative noise, he eases it into your mouth and you eagerly wrap your lips around it.

Jungkook’s cock isn’t extraordinarily long, but it’s thick, the girth stretching out the corners of your mouth the more he pushes in. When you almost get all of him in, he takes a moment, giving you time. When he feels you relax your jaw and sees you look up at him through your lashes, he starts to move his hips, helping you bob your head over his dick.

His fingers weave into your hair, making sure not to disturb your mouse ears, gripping the strands at the base as he slowly rolls his hips into your face. You close your eyes, both to concentrate on taking him and to relish in the frantic way that Mingyu laps at your folds. He grunts into you with each swipe of his tongue and you can feel each deep vibration that slips out.

You can feel your earlier orgasm creeping up again with each flick of Mingyu’s tongue. When he reaches under you to run his finger over your clit, the heat in the pit of your stomach gets hotter, bubbling up and spreading through your veins.

Unable to help yourself, you push your hips back into his face chasing your high. Jungkook’s cock is heavy and your tongue, his pace quickening too. His fingers tug at your hair harder than when he started. Each time he surges forward, the tip of his dick just barely hits the back of your throat, but it’s still enough to have you choking.

Drool starts to pool in the corners of your mouth as you cry out around his length, finally toppling over the edge as you cum. Your words are garbled and you have to anchor yourself to not fall fast forward into Jungkook’s crotch.

“Shit, yes baby like that. Cum all over Gyu’s face and take my cock. So good,” Jungkook’s words sound far away. Your brain is foggy, but you still clench around Mingyu’s enthusiastic tongue as he cleans you up.

When Mingyu finally pulls back you’re still whimpering around Jungkook and he’s switched to shallow thrusts, his cock dragging almost lazily against your tongue.

“Fuck, little mouse. I think I might be addicted to your delicious little cunt now.” Mingyu punctuated his words with a light smack to your still throbbing pussy, making you jolt.

“Her mouth is a fucking dream too. She looks so pretty with it full. We’re so lucky to have found you, baby.”

“So lucky,” Mingyu agrees. You attempt to nod, trying your best to agree with them because you also feel incredibly lucky tonight. You’d gone from lamenting about being a third wheel in the awkward, almost lonely ways, to being the third wheel in a threesome with two beautiful men. Lucky indeed.

“Gonna let us get even luckier, baby?” Jungkook’s finger settles under your chin, tilting your head up just a bit to look down at you. “Gonna let us fuck you?”

This time you pull away, letting his cock fall out and giving you a chance to rest your jaw.

“God yes. I need more,” your voice is a little scratchy but still needy.

“Good girl. Who do you want first?” Mingyu rasps in your ear, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

“Both of you.”

“Oh? You hear that, Gyu? She wants us both.”

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn dirty, baby. Sure you can take us both?” Mingyu presses his length against your asscheeks, letting you feel just how big he is.

“I can do it. Just prep me real good?” Casting a look over your shoulder, you meet Mingyu’s eyes, batting your lashes at him, wearing your best pleading face.

His expression darkens, smirking at you as his eyes sweep over your back, fixing on your ass before meeting your eyes again. “I’ll take care of you, little mouse, don’t worry.”

Mingyu peppers your cheeks with kisses while his finger swipes through your wetness again. He slowly spreads your cheeks, and a glob of spit hits your puckered hole followed by the tip of his finger prodding you.

You wince when he slips in, moving oh so slowly until he’s one knuckle deep. Jungkook’s hand still under your chin turns your head to face forward and redirects your attention back to him.

“Lemme distract you,” he taps the tip of his dick against your lips and you open immediately, almost greedy to take him in again. It’s easy for him to set a pace; each push of his hips forward pushes you back against Mingyu’s finger. They easily find a rhythm and Jungkook tugs on your hair, moaning loudly above you.

Listening to his melodic voice making these breathy exhales for you - because of you - serves to make you wet all over again and determined to make him cum. He’s still guiding your head, but you curve your tongue, letting it wrap under his cock, gliding along a thick vein on the underside.

“Fuck, Y/n. Keep doing that,”

So you do, hollowing your cheeks for good measure to make the inside of your mouth feel tighter around him. You’re moaning around his length as Mingyu slips a second finger into you, scissoring his fingers as he gets both digits in you.

“Look at you, little mouse. Taking my fingers and Jungkookie’s cock so well. I just know you’ll take both of us so good when we fill you up,” Mingyu’s words make you clench around nothing, but he feels the way your body tenses up and he chuckles at you. He lands a sharp smack on your ass, pushing a muffled shriek out of you.

You get lost in the slide of Jungkook’s dick down your throat and the stretch of Mingyu’s fingers in you. It isn’t very long until you’re fucking back against his fingers. Jungkook’s grunts are getting more high-pitched and frantic, curses falling from his lips.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck. I’m - fuck!” Jungkook pulls his cock from your mouth, leaning back and gliding his hand over his length at light speed.

When he cums he makes sure he’s angled towards him, so the sticky liquid spurts onto his chest and hand. You watch in awe as he tugs at himself a few times. His eyes are closed as he swipes his fingers through the mess on his skin and rubs it over his still-hard dick, sighing as squelching echoes in your ears.

“You doing okay, little mouse?” Mingyu’s voice cuts through to you and you finally manage to nod.

“Good. Come’re,” Mingyu’s fingers slip out of you and his hands wrap around your ankles and slide you down the bed, flipping you onto your back in one swift motion. “Legs and arms, wrap them around me.” He helps you loop your arms around his neck and you do your best to lock your legs around his waist.

You expect to stay splayed out on your back, but he has other ideas as he picks you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing and you’ll be damned if it isn’t one of the hottest things that’s happened tonight.

Mingyu’s mouth is on yours again as his hands grip your ass, keeping you up and close to his body. He moves you both across the room, his back leaning against one of the large windows. One of your hands grips his shoulder while the other cards through his dark locks.

A second set of hands ghosts over your shoulders and back followed by Jungkook’s lips, his teeth grazing your skin between kisses.

“Gonna let us fuck you at the same time, little mouse?” Jungkook speaks next to your ear, biting your lobe.

“I would if you’d hurry up,” you mumble, now laying your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder as Mingyu licks up the column of your throat, biting your collarbone hard enough to make you yelp.

“So impatient, baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “But I guess we should give her what she wants, JK.”

“Guess so, Gyu,”

Mingyu leaves a final kiss on the mark he’s left on your collarbone and adjusts you in his hold. He lifts you a little, quite effortlessly at that, and begins sliding you down in his length. Mingyu’s cock is long - long and thick enough that you feel full before he’s even halfway in, but you take it, gnawing at your lip as he enters you inch by inch.

Once he’s completely sheathed inside of you, you two lock eyes, the dark glint unmistakable. He gives a few shallow thrusts, already making you pant in his grasp.

“My turn, baby,” Jungkook says, reminding you that you’re only halfway done.

You crane your neck to the side to look down, and you watch Jungkook stroke himself a few times, using his cum to get himself as slick as possible for you, spitting into his hand for extra help. Mingyu tips you forward, your head resting on his shoulder as he spreads your cheeks for Jungkook.

You ignore the fact that when you look at your reflection in the window, yours is the only one you see, clinging naked around seemingly nothing.

The nudge of Jungkook’s thick cockhead against your rim makes you gasp. He slides in much slower than Mingyu, letting your walls accommodate him at a much gentler pace. When he finally bottoms out, your head is spinning at the sensation of being packed to the absolute brim. Neither men say anything as you get used to them, using the opportunity to litter any skin they can reach with their mouths with bites, sucking more marks into you.

When you’re finally ready, you wriggle in Mingyu’s hold, attempting to pivot your hip to get them to move.

“Mm, you ready, baby?” Mingyu whispers, running his tongue along your jaw.

“Yes, please. Fuck me,”

“Since you asked so nicely…” Jungkook laughs, his hands now holding onto your ass while Mingyu wraps his arms around your waist.

Both men take a millisecond to adjust and that’s truly all they need before they both thrust into you, drawing a long, gasp of breath out of you. Mingyu snaps his hips forward, using the window behind him as momentum to fuck into you. It pushes you back down into Jungkook who’s glued to your back.

They fuck you roughly, see-sawing you back and forth on their cocks, their grips on your flesh never loosening. You cry out each time, babbling out what sounds to you like their names surrounded by nonsense.

Mingyu’s gaze stays locked on your face, occasionally trailing over the rest of you, practically growling with each powerful thrust.

“Look at you. Taking two cocks so well. You’re so good for us, little mouse.” Each word is punctuated with even more power behind his movements, drawing a whimper out of you each time.

“So good. Letting me into this tight little ass. Fuck you’re squeezing me so much, baby.” Jungkook’s comments are also followed by thrusts that take your breath away, his balls slapping against the back of your thighs each time.

You feel a million miles away from your body as these beautiful men with their big dicks stuff you full. You can feel every vein and every ridge battering and rubbing against your spongy walls and you clench with each thrust in, your second orgasm rushing to the forefront.

At some point, you think you black out, but that could just be the pleasure. The only thing you see is Mingyu smiling salaciously at you, sharp teeth on display, and half-lidded eyes drinking you in. The only thing you hear is Jungkook growling in your ear, praising how good you are for them and how fucking amazing you are.

The only thing you feel - well you feel everything. The way they stretch you out, the way their fingers and blunt nails press bruises and half-moon marks into your skin. You feel the scrape of their teeth when they bite at you and it’d be a lie to say you didn’t want them to bite you a little harder.

“Look at our little mouse, JK. She’s so pretty and so fucked out.” Mingyu moves a hand up to grip your chin and tilts your head back to rest on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Shit, look at you, baby. So cockdrunk for us. You gonna cum?” You think you say words, but maybe it’s more of affirmative sounding noises.

Somehow, someone’s hand - you’re not sure who - reaches between your legs to rub your clit. You’re so fucking full and so fucking wet that it only takes a few rubs at your bundle of nerves to have you cumming with a scream that sounds much too loud to your ears.

Every inch of you is red hot and in flames as your throat dries up and your eyelids sag and that’s when you feel it: the sharp, piercing feeling of being bitten. Hard. One on your shoulder from behind and one on the opposite side of your neck. Your eyes fly open and all you see is Mingyu's dark head of hair. Somewhere in the room, along with the wet, slapping, sounds of them drilling into you, you hear slurping. The slurping of your blood in the mouths of these men that you now know for sure are not just men.

They’re drinking your fucking blood.

And that realization alone has you falling apart again, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, body twitching in their holds.

“Fuck - fuck! Gonna stuff you so fucking full, baby!” Mingyu removes his mouth from your neck, shooting his load into you first, the sensation making you groan out, albeit weakly.

Jungkook tumbles over the edge right after him, his sticky seed coating your insides, dripping out, and sliding down your cheeks.

You’re still reeling from what is likely the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever experienced, body sagging, feeling completely boneless.

“Did you cum again after we drank from you?” Jungkook mumbles as they slide out of you, still keeping you in their arms.

“Mmhmm,” is all you can manage, eyelids fluttering, fighting to stay open.

“Fuck. You really are perfect, baby. We gotta keep her, Gyu.”

Mingyu chuckles, finally setting you on the bed, and letting you flop onto the comforter.

“Yeah, I think we might have to. Would you like that, little mouse? Wanna be ours?”

“Mmhmm…” You think you have something else to say, but instead, you finally lose the battle to exhaustion, your eyes sliding closed and sleep taking hold of you.

“Y/n? Hey, Y/n?”

The sound of your name jerks you awake, and your eyes shoot open to take in your surroundings.

Sana’s face is peering down at you when you finally focus, concern etched into her features.

“Huh?”

“You’re up! We were getting a little worried, you’ve been sleeping for a while. Feeling okay?”

You sit up slowly, your head feeling groggy as you take in your surroundings. You’re on your couch in your apartment. You can see Jihyo in the kitchen staring at you looking concerned too. In the distance a toilet flushes and you assume it’s Jeongyeon.

“I’m fine,” you finally say. “Why are we at my apartment?”

“Well, your boyfriends texted us that we should take you home because you were so exhausted you passed out. They carried you out to the car and everything. Very gentlemanly.”

“By the looks of those marks, I think they treated you the opposite of gentlemanly in the bedroom?” Jeongyeon eyes your neck as she enters the room wiggling her eyebrows.

When you glance down, you see what she means. Your chest and what you see of your shoulders are covered in bruises. When you touch your neck you feel two small punctures in the skin and you flush from head to toe. You had almost wondered if you dreamt about the whole encounter with Mingyu and Jungkook, but you hadn’t.

“Oh, yeah. They definitely weren’t gentle,” you can’t but help giggle at the memory of the night you’ve had. The ache between your legs and your cheeks is also a stark reminder.

Your friends don’t say anything about where either Mingyu or Jungkook went when they left you in their care, but they wouldn’t just disappear, right? They said they wanted to keep you which means something, you’d like to think.

Lucky for you, it’s not something you have to ponder for long. As you’re settling into bed for the night, your phone vibrates with a text from an unknown number.

When you go to your messages you see a group chat with you and two other people. Opening it rewards you with an image - two familiar-looking mouths smiling widely. You can only see from their noses down to their chins, but both grins show off very pointy canines, one mouth decorated with two lip rings.

You’re trying to rack your brain as to what to respond with - it’s not like you could have anticipated that being bitten by actual fucking vampires would be so damn hot.

A text from the other number comes in a minute after the picture.

Good night, little mouse. Let us know when and where we can see you again. 😉

You start to type, then erase the message three times, unsure of how desperate you want to sound.

Then you decide, fuck it. It’s obvious they want you just as much as you want them, so who cares if you sound desperate?

So, you keep it short and sweet.

Whenever and wherever you want. Duh.

Net tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf

I’ve wanted to write a Mingyu/Jungkook threesome since they did that live together that one time. And then the 3D challenge happened and my brain said NOWNOWNOW so here we are!

513 notes · View notes

twogyuu · 1 year

Text

Nameless

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!reader

Synopsis: Perhaps you were both fonder of one another than you thought - it only took one night in the city founded on two forbidden lovers for the two of you to realize.

Alternatively, Romeo and Juliet, but make it ATLA :P

Genre: Fluff, crack, some angst, atla!au, Of Flames and Fate!couple, firebender!wonwoo (he bends blue fire!!!), bounty hunter!wonwoo, former general!wonwoo, waterbender!reader, southern water tribe princess!reader, earthbender!jeonghan, old man!jeonghan (jeonghan is oc’s caretaker), my cabbages guy!mingyu, they’re in Omashu

Warnings: Mentions of war/weapons/violence, profanity, food, injury with a cabbage cart, one sexual innuendo at the end, unedited (I wrote most of this at like 3AM 😭💀 I will go back and fix this so it flows better some day–)

WC: ~6k

A/N: For my biggest firebender!wonwoo agenda supporter, @wisteria-woo . She be knew from the beginning ✊

Loosely inspired by ATLA, Love Between Fairy and Devil, and Hotarubi no Mori e.

original drabble || when the sun kissed the moon

. . . .

The screen door slid open abruptly, the bright light of the morning sun spilling into the small room, taking Wonwoo by surprise. A basket of damp clothes in hand, you grumpily pushed past Wonwoo, without a care for the firebender. You bumped his shoulder roughly on your way inside, though it was hard to tell if it was purposeful or out of ignorance. The young man watched you curiously for a moment as you lugged the heavy hamper towards the backdoor.

He figured you must’ve gone to the Common to do laundry at the fountain today and were just making your way back to hang the clothes in the courtyard of the hostel. Wonwoo did find it strange, however; you usually never went to town on your own without him (Jeonghan’s rules – not that he always wanted to nor did he mind these days) and as of late, he had been attempting to be more helpful – washing clothes being one of them.

That said, it was clear to him that you were bitter today – and Wonwoo had an inkling as to why.

Rushing to your side as you stepped over the threshold and onto the porch, he lifted the basket from the bottom to take some of the weight off your shoulders. Immediately, you stopped in your tracks and shot him a scowl.

“Can I help?” he offered you a small smile.

You only scoffed, though not refusing his help. You let go of your side, Wonwoo nearly stumbling forward with the additional weight.

Quietly, the two of you picked the damp clothing and flung them over the free space along one of the wires towards the end of the courtyard. Despite pretending to be interested in the worn beige blanket he had just pinned up, Wonwoo watched you carefully out of the corner of his eye. You were rather efficient today; like a robot only programmed to move from the drying line to the basket, furiously shaking out the clothes and blankets and clipping them to the wire. Your usual gentle and bright expression was replaced with a hardened look, the space between your brows creased. It worried Wonwoo that if you kept scowling for that long, your face might get stuck like that.

Admittedly, it wasn’t a cute look on you.

Silence ensued – only the slight breeze rustling the leaves of the tree overhanging the hostel and the occasional chirp of spring birds in the distance. The hostel was empty for the most part – the innkeeper and his wife were busy at the front calculating last night’s profits and cooking lunch. Most travelers had already taken off in the early hours of dawn and the few guests who extended their stay seemed to have business elsewhere during the day.

When enough was enough, Wonwoo parted an opening past what he thought was Jeonghan’s trousers and one of your overshirts, invading your side of the barrier.

“Can you at least acknowledge my existence?” Wonwoo asked.

Face still stoic, you slumped your shoulders and let out a long, heavy breath.

“Good morning, Wonwoo,” you said monotonously before marching off to your chore.

“You’re still upset,” he noted.

“And what’s it to you, bounty hunter?” you shot back.

“It’s just a silly festival –”

“Stop.”

Your face hardened as you continued to stare at him. As the seconds pass, the corner of your lips downturned into a tight frown, the rage from yesterday clearly still fresh in your heart.

“It’ll be fun!” you tried, leaning over the table, nearly knocking over your bowl of soup. It was fortunate Jeonghan was sitting next to you, the elder earthbender having impeccable reflexes for his age. His hand flew up immediately to slide the bowl back towards the center, sending you a warning look.

While entering Omashu today, Wonwoo had noted the decorations going up around town. The marketplace was bustling, with several merchants selling rich fabric, gold-encrusted pendants, and treats – a rare sight for such exquisite and exclusive items to be sold in such a place. In particular, Wonwoo had noticed the massive array of animal masks hanging in various stalls, some clearly representing animals in the surrounding area, others more artistic and painted with bright shades of blues and reds.

When he had asked about it, Jeonghan had explained the city was preparing for the Festival of the Badger Moles: an annual celebration of the birth of earthbending. Traditionally, people wore masks of the badger mole, but for the sake of festivities, within recent decades it has extended to other animals as well – mostly worn by children. There would be steam carts, live music, dancing, and goods being sold.

To you, however, the Festival of the Badger Moles was merely a legend Jeonghan would tell you stories about for the both of you were never in Omashu whenever it happened. With the nature of Jeonghan’s profession as a freelance welder, the two of you moved around frequently. This would be the first time you were in the city during the festivities and you were eager to experience it.

Though . . . that came Jeonghan’s condition that Wonwoo had to go with you.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Wonwoo shrank back at your suggestion.

“Why not?” you pouted. “It’ll be a nice break from . . . everything. Time to breathe.”

“It’s . . . dangerous to be around a person like me,” Wonwoo tried to explain.

“You’re with us, right now?” you frowned, not quite understanding where he was coming from.

“No,” Wonwoo huffed in frustration. “Like out in public – in the masses. If you forgot,” he peered around to check for any listening ears and leaned in closer, lowering his volume. “I’m a bounty hunter, discarded son of the Fire Nation general . . . I’m a wanted man.”

You sat back on your heels, finally starting to understand – though, there was a tinge of selfishness in you that night.

“We’ll be wearing masks?” you tried.

Wonwoo only shook his head firmly. “It’s not safe – for me and you.”

You nodded in disappointment, though moments later turning to Jeonghan excitedly, a new compromise on the tip of your tongue.

“No,” Jeonghan shot you down before you could even try. His tone was harsh, but his expression was serene as he sipped on his soup.

“But–”

“My condition was that you’d go with Wonwoo, but Wonwoo doesn’t want to go,” Jeonghan laid out his rationale. “End of discussion.”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo tried. He took a step closer to you, but you took another one back.

“It might just be a silly festival to you, but it’s important to me,” you muttered. You inhaled sharply and squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. “I don’t expect anyone to understand, but it’s whatever,” you waved him off. “I know, Wonwoo – I understand. I’m just . . . upset at the situation, not at you.”

Wonwoo’s footing stuttered again as he extended a hand towards you. He was quick to stop in his tracks, his long fingers curling into a fist. His arm hung in the air a moment longer before he drew it to his side, muttering a quiet apology.

“I just need some space for now,” you mumbled, taking your leave.

There it was again: the sudden urge to chase after you and pull you into an embrace and comfort you. The look of disappointment etching into your features made his heart ache because he knew none of this was your fault, yet you silently suffered the brunt of it. You were kind and carefree – admittedly a little naive at times, but your intentions were good. It was unfortunate out of all people, it had to be you. He only complicated the situation.

Wonwoo wasn’t sure when he grew soft for you, but before he knew it, he was.

However, he knew better than to grow attached.

You were the hidden daughter of the Southern Water Tribe Chief.

He was the renounced son of the Fire Nation General – without a country and title. He was basically demoted to a righteous nomad at best.

At least, nomads had a group of people to call home.

Your lives weren’t supposed to cross; they were meant to run in parallel. Only this once where you needed one another would fate allow it for what seemed like a second in the infinite stream of time.

. . . .

You couldn’t sleep well that night.

You tossed and turned, the mat suddenly seemingly too thin and your mid-back ached from the floor boards. The early summer breeze whistled too loudly through the slits of the walls and did nothing to calm the sweltering heat of your room. It especially didn’t help that you could hear the festivities from the city – the occasional outburst of giggles of groups of girls passing by the inn, sparklers crackling in the distance.

Giving into every little thing making you miserable tonight, you threw off your covers and pushed yourself up in bed and leaned against the wall between yours and Wonwoo and Jeonghan’s room. You twisted the base of your lamp, the flame inside flicking on instantly as you let out a long breath and rested your head up against the wall.

It could’ve been you out there tonight.

Alas, society had bigger plans for you, in which you couldn’t even enjoy the simple pleasures of life.

It wasn’t always like this.

In fact, it was only a few weeks ago when life was still simple: metalworker Jeonghan and his clumsy kid apprentice against the world – or more precisely, most of the Earth Nation. There just happened to be a quiet, but emotional, young man who followed the two of you around for a bit.

You had yet to see the world.

Though it was mundane, on days like this, you preferred it that way.

There was no title of “chief’s long-lost daughter” or “princess” hanging over your head like a market sign painted red; no need to second guess everything you said or did in fear of revealing who you were. You kept your lips sealed and your thoughts locked away in your heart.

The scariest part?

A heavy thud outside your window startled you from your late night musing – it almost sounded like someone threw a sack of potatoes on the wooden porch leading into your quarters. Your thoughts and unanswered questions long forgotten, you spun around to face the screen door and reached for your dagger in the wool knapsack at the foot of your bed.

A silhouette of a man crouched on his knees fanned across your screen door. Jeonghan was always cautious. From a young age, he trained you for moments like this – “surprises” he called them, but not the good kind. How to attack, signals to send if he wasn’t there, where to meet him if they parted ways, etc.

Though you knew it was for your own safety, not until recently, did it occur to you that it was because Jeonghan’s mission was to keep you alive as the Southern Water Tribe chief’s daughter. You begged to differ, but some viewed your life more worthy of gold than others.

Just as you were about to knock against the wall to signal to Wonwoo and Jeonghan, the figure moved swiftly. The door slid open, his figure a blur. You blinked and Wonwoo was in front of you, one finger against his thin lips, and the other resting atop yours that was wrapped around the dagger.

“Wonwoo?” you whispered, your heart sank. Relieved, you sat back on your heels.

“Keep quiet,” he replied. He turned slightly to the room next door.

“You scared me!”

He smiled sheepishly. Realizing just how close the two of you were, he shuffled back to create some space.

“Sorry.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, eyes scanning his figure. His hair was matted against forehead, his usual form-fitting faded red suit and threadbare brown cloak traded for something a little more . . . familiar. “In Jeonghan’s clothes?”

You stared at him incredulously, the pitch of your voice going up with the end of the question.

Wonwoo peered down at his (or rather Jeonghan’s) outfit, a beige undershirt and loose green vest, and tugged at the front.

“Looks classy, doesn’t it?” he asked cheesily.

You scoffed and looked away.

“I don’t want to waste any time since it’s already late so I’ll cut to it,” Wonwoo stood up, his long legs stretching high above you. Extending a hand in your direction, he tilted his head coyly and smirked. “Wanna go to town with me? For a silly festival?”

. . . .

Despite the festival being half over, Wonwoo had insisted on both of you wearing masks – for safety of your collective identities, of course, not for childish celebratory reasons.

What would society think of the Southern Water Tribe princess running wild with the former lieutenant general of the Fire Nation military?

With the few coins in your silk pouch, you had hastily bought two at the first stall along the dirt road that came into view as you arrived in town: a white fox antelope one with red whiskers for him and a classic brown black badger mole one for you.

Admittedly, however, it was probably a bad decision on Wonwoo’s part as you were impossible to keep track of. The design of your mask was rather unoriginal – it seemed as if every other person was wearing the same one. Not to mention, the straps of his own were thin and slippery, the knot undoing itself in the all the commotion of trying to keep up with you.

You happily bounced from stall to stall in the marketplace, refusing to buy anything since you only had a few coins left, but mouth watering over steam buns and your eyes were wide with desire at colorful silk fabrics – the dye a rare deep shade of green. Over the drums and shouts, He thought he heard you muttering something about it being nice for making a new coat for Jeonghan.

It was cute, but tiresome. Wonwoo wasn’t sure how you had so much energy at such hours of the night. Then again, you had been waiting for this moment your entire life it seemed.

You had taken off again and disappeared into the crowd, just as Wonwoo felt his fox antelope mask slipping off for what felt like the tenth time in the last hour. Annoyed, he pulled it off, holding it by the tails of the ties and ran in the same general direction he had seen you go. He whipped his head back and forth, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of you. The streak of white in your hair that framed your face was hard to miss most days, but you had tucked it all into a bun and again, that damn badger mole mask.

He grew anxious the longer he couldn’t find you. Each minute that passed meant another meter between him and you. Each meter made it harder to protect you if anything happened. Indeed you were supposedly destined to be a power waterbender, but currently, you were a very bad one. Your powers had been suppressed until recently and even then, you lacked the right scrolls and a competent instructor to harness your abilities to your best potential. Jeonghan shouting, "It's okay – just try again!" was rather not ideal.

Just as he was about to lose it, heat coursing down his arms, threatening to set the square aflame to just clear a way to find you, someone's hands wrap around his wrist. Wonwoo wondered just what beggar had the audacity to bother him now when he was busy.

Turning around furiously, a short but impactful (and loud) lecture prepared on the tip of his tongue, he was met with a person in a badger mole mask. This couldn’t quell his worry nonetheless – he had a fifty-fifty chance it could’ve been you or some annoying kid who lost their parents.

“Wonwoo?” the familiar sound of your voice echoed through the mask. You lifted it to get a better look at him. The sight of your plush lips, immediately bringing him relief. “Why aren’t you – oh!”

The firebender quickly pulled you into a tight hug. His eyes fluttered shut as he let out a breath against the exposed skin between your shoulder and your neck. Goosebumps rose along your spine at the gesture and you stiffened, too stunned to speak. Wonwoo never initiated skinship with you, let alone attempted to get close to you physically and emotionally. During dinner, he always made a point to sit across the table. If you were camping out in the forest, you both slept on either side of Jeonghan. When conversations got too deep into his past, his replies grew curt or he’d politely ask you to change the subject.

When walking up to him earlier, he seemed frazzled . . . maybe he was claustrophobic? Slowly and awkwardly, you raised a hand to pat his back in an effort to comfort him. You tried to look at him to get a better gauge of his mood to no avail.

“Hey,” you said softly in his ear. “You okay?”

Immediately, Wonwoo separated from you and pulled his arms back to his side. That seemed to have been effective enough to stun him back into reality. You noted how his fox antelope mask is sitting in his hand rather than on his face.

“Wonwoo?” you tried again. You took a step towards him.

For the third time tonight, Wonwoo took you by surprise again. He reached for your hand, slipping his fingers in between your own and giving you a tight squeeze. His touch full of affection and reassurance, but his surly expression suggested otherwise.

“Don’t do that again,” he said harshly. He was quick to change his tone when he noticed the frown forming on your face, however. “Just . . . running off and around. I don’t want to hold you back tonight, but I just need to be able to be close to you in case anything happens. Okay?”

You nodded, mumbling a small apology.

“I-I’m sorry for startling you,” Wonwoo stuttered in reply. He wasn’t used to apologizing, let alone for something so seemingly miniscule. “I was just . . . worried.”

It was out of concern, duty, and promise to Jeonghan, yet there was something about the way he held your hand and the tone of his voice that made your heart skip a beat when it shouldn’t have. Your face grew warm realizing he was still holding your hand. You wondered if he could feel the slick of your sweat forming on your palms.

A beat passed with bated breaths, the moment seemed to last an hour though it was fleeting for the life of the party that surrounded the both of you.

Realizing that he was still holding on, you quickly found an excuse to pull your hand away from him. It was nerve-wracking and not good for your heart.

“Let me help you with your mask,” you announced. You peered up at him briefly, offering him a tight smile, then reaching down to take it from him.

Wonwoo complied, nodding slowly and leaned over so you would have better access to his face. You didn’t expect him to come so close; you shrank back on instinct, eyes instantly flying to his lips sitting fingers-width away from yours. You silently scolded yourself for having such a reaction – letting your mind go there. Unconsciously pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, you lifted the mask to his face, making sure the parts aligned with his face. Your hands reached behind and twisted the strings together. Without much choice, your fingers carded through his hair as you tied off the bow, the tips of his hairs at the nape of his neck grazing against your skin.

“Done,” you announced as you tightened the knot.

He whispered a soft ‘thank you’ and stood up straight again. He reached over and pulled down your badger mole mask over your face. Though you couldn’t see his eyes through his mask, you’d like to imagine his eyes were narrowed in concentration as he adjusted it to better fit your face.

“Shall we?” Wonwoo extended his hand once more.

Your eyes flickered to his hand and then back to him; silently wondering if he was sure about all this hand holding thing.

As if he read your mind, he chuckled heartily and grabbed your hand. He didn’t say anything else; Wonwoo just turned around and gave you a sight tug, urging you to start walking next to him. Your footing stuttered a bit, knocking into his back slightly. You were quick to straighten yourself out and regain your footing to walk properly again.

This wasn’t the night at the Festival of the Badger Moles you were expecting – it was better (though you’d never voice that aloud).

. . . .

“You should wear this one,” Wonwoo said, gently shaking your interlocked hands.

You spun around from the display you were looking at to see him holding a gold encrusted pin with a jade crystal at the end. It was simple, but elegant. He handed it over to you, the accessory much heavier than you expected as you turned it in your palm.

You shook your head. “It’s nice, but I can’t.” You handed it back to him to place it back where he got it from.

“Why not?” he asked.

“It looks expensive,” you chortled. You leaned over and gestured for him to come closer. In a hushed voice you mumbled, “Let alone, would it make sense for a water tribe girl to be wearing a treasured piece from the Earth Kingdom?”

“Nonsense,” Wonwoo insisted. He lifted the pin into the air and admired it himself, a fleeting thought in his mind of how nice it would look in your hair. “You’re basically an Earth Kingdom citizen with how long you’ve lived with Jeonghan.”

“No,” you waved him off. You were growing uncomfortable, your eyes darting to find another attraction to attend to. You spotted a cart of steam buns and took a few steps away from Wonwoo. “C’mon, let’s go get some food.”

Wonwoo pulled you back and slipped the pin into your bun. He was glad you secured the fox antelope mask well. For once, he didn’t have to hold back the stupid grin on his face that seemed to only be reserved for you. He could only imagine how nicely it complimented your complexion. The decoration was subtle, but when the flames of the torch crackled when the heat became too much, the jade glowed prettily and illuminated the gold handle.

He wondered what it would look like under his blue flame.

“Wear it for me then?” Wonwoo asked.

As the minutes ticked by, the longer your hands were interlocked, the deeper you went into the city, the more your masks didn’t seem to be for the sake of privacy and safety, but to shield the feelings that painted both of your faces that neither of you could hold back that night.

Surprise, embarrassment, nervousness, happiness . . . what did these feelings mean altogether?

His words were apparent, yet seemingly cryptic. Each simple gesture and small request felt exponential.

By no means was he getting on one knee and asking you to marry him, but wearing a hairpin by his request felt burdensome – a promise that couldn’t be kept.

Once you left here, you weren’t simply a girl who roamed the Earth Kingdom anymore, but the Southern Water Tribe princess.

When you didn’t reply, Wonwoo plucked it out of your hair and handed it to the stall owner. He pulled out a few coins to pay for it.

“Wonwoo!” you exclaimed, a hand outstretched to stop the exchange from happening. The elderly woman running the shop halted and looked from Wonwoo to you, then to Wonwoo again.

“It’s okay, I’d like to buy it,” Wonwoo explained. When the woman handed it back, Wonwoo perched it in your hair again. “At least for tonight, wear it. It makes it easier to keep track of you.”

Your shoulders slumped over, your heart slowing down for the first time tonight.

So . . . it wasn’t out of affection. Bold of you to think it was.

“I’ll give it back at the end of the night,” you muttered awkwardly.

“No need,” he chirped as you crossed the street.

“But–”

“Consider it a souvenir,” he explained matter-of-factly, though little did you know there was a gentle smile dancing on his lips behind the mask. “A keepsake from a firebender you once knew.”

It was only in the Earth Kingdom where Wonwoo and you could exist just as you are and together after all.

Simply, a firebender and a waterbender.

. . . .

You were a waterbender by birth, but an earthbender by heart.

Wonwoo came to this conclusion as he stood to the side and watched you dance happily with the little boy in the town square. Stepping to the beat of the drums, you held onto the skirt of your tunic and placed your palm gently against the little boy and the two of you stepped counterclockwise. Though there was a lightness to your step, the way you moved your limbs were stiff and poignant, contrary to the fluidity of other waterbenders he has met.

Had he met you under different circumstances, he would’ve never guessed you were one. It must’ve been from years of watching and combat training with Jeonghan, he figured.

As the symbols clanged together, announcing the end of song, you bid the little boy goodbye. Giggling, you ran over to Wonwoo and took him by the crook of his arm and dragged him towards the center.

“Join me,” you told him.

“Y/N, I can’t – I don’t know this routine,” Wonwoo protested. He pulled his arm back, though you didn’t let go.

“It’s simple,” you declared, “I’ll teach you.”

Wonwoo stood stiff and unmoving, pausing. The drum master began to beat his mallet against the canvas of the instrument again, announcing the next song again. You didn’t seem to be in a rush, however. You pulled him closer to the edge of the dance floor, undoing the knot of your mask and pulling it off to reveal shining, hopeful eyes.

“Never heard of a firebender who can’t dance,” you teased.

His eyebrow quirked, shocked that you even remembered.

“If earthbending is about listening to your opponent, firebending is like dancing with the enemy,” Wonwoo explained as he stood next to you, angrily staring at the river – as if you stared hard enough, you could lift a droplet. It was shortly after Jeonghan had revealed the truth of your identity. Though there was still an element of disbelief, part of you wanted to put his word to the test.

“Don’t you have anything you could compare waterbending to?” Wonwoo asked.

“Not when I’ve never met another waterbender,” you grumbled.

“Is that a challenge, princess?” Wonwoo asked in a low voice.

You smirked and took two steps back. Following the other women in the crowd, you curtsied towards Wonwoo and extended a hand for him to take.

And he accepted.

Facing the opposite direction, you stepped in line with him. “Just follow my lead.”

The two of you circled around each other, following the rhythm of the song.

Two steps away, then three steps toward each other. You reached for Wonwoo’s hand, gently settling it in the small of your back in preparation for a spin.

Like a light of a flame, however, the firebender seemed to have other plans.

He pulled you close until your chests were flushed. He leaned in, trying to better see you through the slits of the mask. It was a full moon tonight – he could see the pearl-like orb reflecting off the corners of your own eyes. There was confusion, perhaps fear as well, that glistened in your wide gaze.

Wonwoo didn’t like the way the mask limited his view. Without a thought, he tugged one end of the bow you secured earlier and the mask clattered to the concrete beside the both of you. A sense of satisfaction filled his chest, knowing that tonight, there was nothing in between him and you.

His eyes traced along the bridge of your nose and rested on your plush lips that were held agape. Reaching up, he slowly traced your bottom lip with his thumb, then tapering off to the corner and following the curve of your cheeks.

He smiled – they were warm like his own.

Wonwoo felt the press of your hand against his chest, your throat bobbing up as you swallowed harshly.

“It’s your turn to spin,” you stammered.

He didn’t seem to be listening, mesmerized by something else – or rather someone, though you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. Wonwoo wasn’t holding on very tightly to you; rather, it was more of you who let yourself stay within his embrace, unwavering. When the flute reached its climactic note, you pushed him roughly and stepped away.

He was supposed to twirl in the opposite direction, but his position was less than optimal for the move. His feet stumbled over one another and he sailed backwards as he started losing his center of gravity.

The music ceased as everyone watched on in terror.

There was a sickening crack of a crate, but thankfully, the landing was cushioned. Wonwoo wasn't sure by what, but it was better than landing on the concrete.

"My cabbages!" a husky voice shrieked behind him. It was followed by a string of cursing. Wonwoo could make out the sound of your laughter nearby.

He peeled open his eyes to find himself amidst a pile of wood and well, cabbages.

That would make sense. Cabbage were dense enough to hold his weight, but still soft enough to land a blow.

Wonwoo was rubbing the back of his neck when you suddenly came jogging over and grabbed his wrist.

"Run!" you hissed at him. A grin graced your face, tears from laughter steaming in the corner of your eyes.

For the first time in a long time, Wonwoo was happy.

. . . .

“Try it – they’re tasty,” you explained. You handed him the skewer with the last candied fruit.

He stared at it suspiciously to tease you, before peering up at you again.

“Try,” you giggled, pushing his hand towards his mouth.

After the cabbage cart accident, the two of you had decided to call it a night, purchasing some late night snacks at the edge of the festival and seeking refuge on a hill that oversaw the city. Though the celebration had come to an end, neither of you wanted to go back to the hostel just yet, hoping to hold onto the last few pieces of freedom and whatever was blooming between him and you.

Since then the teasing and the laughter hadn’t stopped; Wonwoo even found himself chuckling along every now and then. The jokes cracked weren’t even funny, perhaps it was the sugar from all the candied fruit you bought, but at some point neither of you really knew what you were laughing about.

Without knowing it, you both were running on giddiness, and just maybe, love.

If Wonwoo could describe it, it was that same fluttery happiness and breathtaking feeling he had when he was seven and had a crush on his friend. She was a blurry memory, he couldn’t even remember what she looked like, but the emotions associated with her were timeless.

“Thank you.”

Wonwoo looked up to find you settling against the root of the tree next to him. You let out a long breath and rested your head against his shoulder. As if it was already second nature, Wonwoo shifted to better accommodate you and lifted his arm to wrap around your shoulder. You snuggled into his hold, molding yourself into his side.

“Thank you,” Wonwoo replied. He pressed his lips into your temple. You tensed at the act, though quick to relax, eyes fluttering shut.

“What are you thanking me for?” you mumbled. “You’re the one who snuck me out.”

Wonwoo hummed softly and looked off into the distance. The torches and lanterns around Omashu made it glow gold, reminding him of the hairpin in your bun. The mailing system was even lined with colorful fabric, he could see. If he was quiet enough, he could still hear the lingering slivers of children shouting and hearty laughters in the distance.

“Just . . . because,” Wonwoo replied. He paused. “I’m happy.”

He felt you snaking your arms around his waist, hands clasping together at his hip.

“Can we just stay like this for a while?” you asked, lazily. “Happy?”

Closing his own eyes, he gave your shoulder a squeeze of reassurance. He relaxed against the tree and huffed.

“Just for a little while.”

. . . .

Bonus:

“A little while” turned into the rest of the evening into the early morning.

You woke first with sun shining through the leaves of the oak tree hanging overhead and blinding your sleepy vision. As you returned to reality, the birds chirping and shouts from the marketplace entering your ears, you slowly started to realize your current predicament.

Wonwoo and you snuck out.

Wonwoo and you spent the whole night together.

Wonwoo and you fell asleep on the hill.

Wonwoo and you didn’t go home.

Jeonghan.

The two of you were so screwed.

“Wonwoo!” you shook the said male, “Wonwoo! Wake up!”

He groaned, raising his limbs to stretch over his head, though his eyes remained sealed shut.

“Wonwoo, we have to go,” you urged, “Jeonghan’s gonna murder us!”

It seemed as if the elderly earthbender’s named held some sort of deadly edge to it as Wonwoo’s eyes shot open and he too began scrambling.

“Not a word about this to Jeonghan,” you warned him as you laced your hands together and took off in a run. “I’m never hearing the end of it if he knew I spent the night with you.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing?” Wonwoo teased.

“Jeon Wonwoo!”

. . . .

“So,” Jeonghan stroked his beard. He paced back and forth in his and Wonwoo’s quarters while the two of you kneeled before him in apology. “You’re telling me that you woke up at the crack of dawn to go to town for soup ingredients, but you forgot your money pouch?”

“Yes,” you replied curtly. You nodded once, keeping your eyes trained on the floorboard.

“Interesting,” Jeonghan noted and turned to Wonwoo. “You don’t have anything to add, Mr. General?”

“I do not, sir,” Wonwoo answered.

Jeonghan whipped out his wooden cane and pointed it in between your eyes. You startled, though you remained in your kneeling position. In the corner of your eye, you could see that Wonwoo was looking on anxiously. Jeonghan never resorted to corporal punishment with you . . . he wouldn’t now right?

Jeonghan extended his cane a little further and poked at your hip, causing a jingling sound.

Not of bells that decorated your outfit, but rather . . . coins.

“Your pouch is full of money here,” Jeonghan said matter-of-factly.

“Uh, she didn’t have enough,” Wonwoo added.

Jeonghan cocked an eyebrow at the younger man and walked over, poking his hip as well. “And you didn’t think of lending her some? Also, why are you wearing my clothes? I admit, my sense of fashion is impeccable, but flame boy, this doesn’t really suit you.”

The both of you were running out of excuses as Jeonghan waited for a response. Per usual, it didn’t take much for you to crack under Jeonghan’s pressure – even when it was your idea to lie to him that Wonwoo and you went to town in the morning.

“I’m sorry, Jeonghan!” you exclaimed. Your forehead was planted on the ground now. “Wonwoo and I went to the festival without telling you and then we fell asleep on the way home and are just coming home now. I’m sorry!”

There was a long pause before Jeonghan answered, or rather, he laughed at you.

Slowly, you sat up, confused. Wonwoo looked equally as puzzled.

The old man was hacking up a cough now, clutching his stomach in humor.

“D-did I miss something?” you sank back on your heels.

“No, silly girl!” Jeonghan managed to say in between breaths. He did his best to quell his laugh, though his shoulders still bounced happily. Wiping the corners of his eyes, he continued, “I told you were allowed to go if Wonwoo agreed to go with you, didn’t I? I was just pulling at your leg when I made you kneel.”

“Yoon Jeonghan,” you growled, preparing to launch yourself at the old man.

Just as he was about to step out of the room, Jeonghan quickly added, “That said, neither of you are still allowed to sleep with each other as long as I am alive. I’ve never been a third wheel in my life and I’m certainly not starting now.”

"Hey!"

"Yah!"

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios

1K notes · View notes

sourcherryandsprinkles · 10 months

Note

Could you write the beach scene where Conrad gets into a fight and instead of Belly getting hit it’s reader. Maybe she was kissing some other guy and that’s why Conrad was drinking?

Continue sending requests for Conrad/Jeremiah!! I added them to my taglists, so please get on it if you want to be notified when I post a new one. Also, season 2 is coming very soon <3 I can't wait for all the Taylor music they're gonna use again

I didn't plan on going over 1k, but my fingers slipped XD

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Music was mixing with the soft swishes of the ocean, marking the first night of summer at Cousins’ beach. After months in the city that never sleeps, it was nice to be back. The smell of the ocean, the feeling of the sand under your feet, the calm swish of the waves, the beautiful sunsets — there were no such things in New York.

Talking about things New York didn’t have, your mouth busy kissing the cute boy you met on the boardwalk yesterday. You didn't plan on kissing him — or anyone — at the bonfire, but he smelled really good and his smile was causing a kaleidoscope in your stomach, and before you realized what was happening, he was leaning to kiss you.

His name was Benjamin…or was it Brad? God, you couldn’t remember. What you knew was the sensation of his body pressed against yours, the intertwining of tongues, and the gentle touch of his hands as they slid to your waist and effortlessly pulled you closer.

This summer was going to be amazing.

Your bubble of summer-lovin' was popped when a sudden commotion about a beer reached your ears, drawing your attention away from Brody. He whined, trying to join your lips again, but you turned your head in direction of the heated voices, one of them familiar to you.

‘’Shit,’’ you muttered under your breath, seeing Conrad shoving another guy and getting shoved back. This was not going to end well… ‘’I’ll be right back.’’

Brody nodded as you stood from the sand and went over, foolishly believing that you could mediate the altercation.

‘’Hey, Conrad that’s enou—’’ you began, only to be abruptly halted by a forceful elbow striking your cheekbone, sending you on the ground.

The sudden assault had drawn Conrad's attention away from the beer-fueled dispute, his drunken gaze fixed upon you with concern. He tried to get to you, see if you were okay, but the other guy wasn't willing to let Conrad off the hook so easily, launching a punch before he could reach your side.

‘’What the fuck is wrong with you?’’ Conrad's anger flared as he retaliated, delivering a punch of his own.

Amidst the chaos, Jeremiah caught sight of the brawl and quickly ran over to you. ‘’Are you okay?’’ he asked, extending a hand and helping you getting back on your feet, his genuine concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, wincing as you covered your aching cheekbone. It’s gonna be bruised tomorrow. Brad, having witnessed the unfortunate turn of events, also approached to offer his support. He tried to cup your face to assess the injury, but you dodged his contact.

Seeing you were relatively okay, Jeremiah pointed towards Conrad and you nodded again, silently telling him to go. You doubted he’ll be able to break the fight, but hopefully someone will come and help.

‘’You should put some ice on that,’’ Brody advised, but all you could think about was Conrad.

Getting into fights was unlike him. But he hasn’t really been himself lately…

A sudden cry of ‘’Cops!’’ echoed through the beach, instantly causing a wave of panic and dispersal among the party-ers. People fled in different directions, seeking to avoid any potential trouble with law enforcement.

While running off, you managed to get away from Brody, no longer wanting to be by his side. It was nothing personal. Old ghosts just pulled you back in.

You emerged on the road, scanning all the cars on each side until you caught the unmistakable red of Conrad's Jeep parked on the road. The backdoor on the driver side was open as Jeremian helped Conrad get in the backseat of the jeep.

‘’Jere! Wait up!’’ you called out at him.

‘’Watch your head. Your legs,’’ Jeremiah said, making sure he wouldn’t be catching any of his drunk brother’s limbs when closing the door.

Conrad grumbled, half laying down on the backseat. ‘’I know how to get into a car,’’ he muttered.

‘’Can I come with?’’ you asked, trying to not glance at Conrad. ‘’I…I don’t have a ride home.’’

Jeremiah nodded, and both of you climbed into the jeep, fastening your seatbelts before driving away.

Only to slam the brakes two seconds later and come to an abrupt halt. ‘’Fuck. Steven.’’ Jeremiah turned to you before getting out. ‘’Watch Conrad, I’ll be right back.’’

Conrad and you were in the car silently. It felt eerily quiet, and even though it was only just past one, you were completely exhausted. In the backseat, Conrad was quiet, lost in his drunken haze. Neither of you spoke for a moment, until he started playing with a piece of your hair.

‘’How did you get into this mess?’’

‘’The guy wanted my beer,’’ he explained simply, softly.

‘’And you didn’t think you had enough?’’ Conrad was silent, so you glanced at him through the visor mirror. ‘’Why did you drink so much?’’

‘’You.’’

A frown formed between your eyebrows. ‘’Me?’’

He let go of your hair and leaned his head against the window. ‘’Why were you with that guy? Is…is he your new boyfriend?’’

No.

Brody was charming and sweet, but you didn’t see him as a potential boyfriend. You weren’t looking for a relationship at the moment. That would be stupid given you were starting college in September.

‘’That’s none of your business,’’ you said instead, brushing off his question.

After playing cat and mouse all summer the year prior — and some of autumn —, you and Conrad decided to call it quits in the spring. You never officially dated, just played around, but a part of you had been hopeful Conrad would change his mind and want to take it to the next level. Unfortunately, he was never yours to lose.

‘’I don’t like when you kiss someone else. You should be kissing me.’’

The atmosphere in the jeep became tense as Conrad's words hung in the air. Had he not been so intoxicated, he would never have said that. You could feel the weight of his emotions and the unresolved tension between the two of you.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to compose yourself, not wanting to lash your emotions at him. ‘’You dumped me, remember?’’ you reminded him, trying to ignore the sleeping pain hidden in a compartment of your heart.

‘’Seeing you with someone else... it drives me crazy,’’ he admitted, his voice filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability.

Twisting in your seat, you turned to face Conrad.

Conrad and his stupid temper. Had he not gotten into a dumb fight over a beer, the side of your face wouldn’t be in pulsing pain. You also would not be sitting in his jeep with him.

Without saying anything, he reached for your face, gently brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. ‘’I’m sorry.’’

Before you could say anything, the driver side’s door opened, snapping you and Conrad from your moment.

‘’I found him!’’ Jeremiah announced, getting in while Steven did the same, complaining about having to sit in the backseat and having not enough room for his legs.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty

902 notes · View notes

loserdiaz · 3 months

Text

let's fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later

buck/eddie | teen and up | 7.2k words

"I, uh…" Eddie's gaze falls on Buck and he visibly relaxes, his shoulders dropping the tiniest bit in relief. Buck stifles his laughter and puts himself in front of them. "Sorry, Mr. Diaz? There's someone with a package in the backdoor for you." He emphasizes the word 'package' and makes his eyes wider on purpose. "The guy said it was from, uh, Christina." To be fair, this time his move is pathetic and shouldn't have worked as well as it does. Their restaurant might not be the best one in the city, nor the fanciest— but they're in a decent zone, Bobby's married to a cop and they never really have any real problems. Especially not with Christina or Molly. or: Eddie figures if he's going to go on bad dates, he might as well go to Buck and Bobby's restaurant so Buck can save him from them. Buck suffers and pines like the idiot he is, and feelings are blurted out over dinner and fancy wine.

read on ao3

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #evan buck buckley #buddie #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 fox #911 on fox #911 abc #911 on abc #april writes #my writing

370 notes · View notes

anjanahalo · 3 months

Text

My fave dpxdc Tucker trope is he's a big fish in a small pond and knows it. Yeah, of course he's the premiere hacker in Amity Park. He has zero competition besides Technus, and that guy is good but also has some wires crossed. Tucker, out of necessity, mostly works to be better than the Fentons (who are great mechanical and bio engineers but not computer engineers), the GIW (they weren't well funded enough to have a competent IT department so he had backdoors built into their virtual servers that worked even as they gained a larger budget and more skilled agents), and, of course, Technus, who constantly pushed him to greater skill levels. But Tucker, despite his self-hype, is also aware enough to know he's a tech god in a small Illinois city, but he doesn't compare to the big dogs out there like Oracle. This lasts until he actually goes toe to toe (my fave is without realizing) against Oracle or JL's security and wins either an offensive or defensive cyberwar. He doesn't think much of it until he ends up being scouted more directly after they find nontech ways to track him down. Someone who can modify a PDA to have that much computing power by just testing and tinkering is an asset anyone would prefer to work with the JL rather than against them.

#danny phantom #tucker foley #dpxdc #I just love Tucker discovering that he actually IS hot shit and it's not just him hyping himself up

366 notes · View notes

puppetmaster13u · 17 days

Text

Prompt 268

Fright Knight sighs, running a clawed hand through his hair in an attempt to stop the flames from flickering into being. It had been far too long since he had taken a human-ish form. His human-ish form. Ugh. He didn’t exactly care for his human form after so long as a ghost, but needs must he supposed.

Especially with the whole, we’re going to punch a backdoor into the literal daycare part of the Infinite Realms and be surprised when literal toddlers go exploring.

Well, at least it got him off of guard duty for a bit, which was relieving. Not that he didn’t love the darkness, but it got boring in the shadow of his sword for literal centuries with nothing else happening. He was a warrior for Realm’s sake! Borderline an Ancient in both power and age! He wasn’t meant to stay so still for so long.

So while ghostling wrangling wasn’t exactly in his area of expertise, he could definitely gather them back up to the Realms. And deal with the curs who had decided to attack literal babies.

The Daycare area was already understaffed due to just how large it was, and the one in charge of this section had practically sobbed to the Council (In another world they would have been put on hold for a century in line for their concerns, and then more once a Sarcophagus was opened, but they had told the other ghosts in distress, causing others to let them go up in said line) how they were almost certain they had felt at least one core form Outside the realms thanks to the breach.

Which had understandably put everyone at an uproar.

So here he was slipping between shadows to do reconnaissance and take stock of if any Ghostlings had left the city. And gently scruffing those he comes across in exasperation because what are you doing, ghostling? Look at the mess, what would your caretaker say?

#Danny Phantom #Prompts #Fright Knight #Shadow Core Fright Knight #Space Core Danny #Very fae-elf vibes for FK’s human-ish form #POV you’re an Amity Parker & this Tank of a man (being?) appears & grabs the ghost & scolds them like a child #Yes this includes Phantom #FK: Where is your caretaker ghostling?#Phantom (ready to fight & very wrong-footed now): My what #FK:#FK: oh no Sir Yaya was right this ghostling is newly formed-#Ghost Hunters: *Shooting*#FK with an armful of ghostlings: Were it not for the presence of literal infants I would kill you where you stand &#trap you in your worst nightmare for eternity while your body decays around you #Let FK have glowy tattoos i beg of thee #FK returning to the Zone to find another toddler (Vlad) that also formed Outside & also sickly at the Keep: I am going to scream #Accidental Dad Knight #More like the preschool teacher gathering up everyone from a field trip lol #Nightmare has bags on her side to carry the ghostlings in but several won't let go of FK now that they've been shot at again #Kerian “Rian” Fright Knighte: *So close to fighting the humans even with the Rules*

195 notes · View notes

cillianmesoftlyyy · 1 month

Text

How About It, Agent Miller? | Lenny Miller x fem!reader

Summary: The year is 1988. The Cold War is well underway and tensions are slowly rising between the US and the Soviets. CIA Agent Miller isn’t threatened by the new young agent from the Soviet Union but she has a plan to get his attention, and to get even.

Warnings: Misogyny, violence, gun, kidnapping, restraints, dubious consent, noncon, smut, unprotected sex, edging, drugging.

word count: 4661k

Sympathy for the Devil- The Rolling Stones 🎶

Devils Haircut- Beck 🎵

You Know I’m No Good- Amy Winehouse 🎶

Movie: Anna (2019)

Please read warnings before continuing, thanks!

He thought this job was going to be simple, almost easy. She was working for East Germany, young, and new to her position; surely she wouldn’t be that difficult to eliminate. He’d been working for the CIA for nearly fifteen years at that point. He was one of the top agents and had orchestrated the downfall of many notable German and Soviet spies. To be fair, there had been that minor detail of receiving several severed heads from the KGB back in 1985 but that was all behind him now. They didn’t scare him now, and certainly, that twenty-something agent he’d heard so much about wasn’t about to make him lose sleep. In fact, he was looking forward to meeting her.

The girl in question was twenty-two and one of the deadliest spies to ever work for East Germany (the communist side). Y/N Y/L/N managed to slip past the CIA on multiple occasions, stealing out the backdoor or using false passports to get out of the country undetected. She’d made one mistake, however, and Agent Miller was quick to catch it. He rued the way she’d avoided detection for so long when it felt like it was all due simply to good luck. She didn’t seem especially smart or conniving, just pretty. It pissed him off. The mistake that Y/N had made was small, easy to look over, but Agent Miller was looking, and he found it.

Y/N tricked men around her to get information on the US. Once she’d get them alone, she drugged them, shot them, etc; anything to get them out of her way while she downloaded classified files from their computers. She had managed to steal these files before without leaving traces of her crime but low and behold, the last time she had removed the flash drive without ejecting it from the computer’s system. The computer held onto the flash drive's information and told Agent Miller exactly what the young woman was planning next. She’d been collecting information on nuclear weapons and international trade deals that the US was trying to keep hush hush. And for that reason, Agent Miller knew who she was going after next.

He straightened his striped blue tie and cleared his throat as he and his team crowded into the elevator. The men behind him carried larger guns and thick bulletproof vests, ready for whatever the girl threw at them. They’d followed her into a hotel in New York City, a place that felt too normal for the situation at hand. When the elevator doors opened with a soft whooshing noise, Agent Miller nodded his agents on, directing them to either side of the corridor. Quickly, they raided the hotel room belonging to the man they believed she had gone after that evening, but did not find her there. She was nowhere in the hotel. Agent Miller cursed beneath his breath and gritted his teeth. He knew his impatience was his worst quality and it only hurt him in these situations, but then again, the American government isn’t known for being very patient with communists…

Clenching and relaxing his jaw, Agent Miller went back down in the elevator with his men. They separated into groups in the lobby, each climbing back into the armored car sent by the CIA. Agent Miller waited behind, his cold eyes trained on the curb in front of the hotel. His car was separate from the others and would take him directly back to his office. A sharp wind ruffled his dark brown hair, displacing one strand into his face as his car pulled up to the curb. Agent Miller climbed into the dark backseat, the car door slamming closed beside him and a lock clicking into place. He looked up. The barrel of a pistol was pointed at his forehead. He froze.

“Hello, Agent Miller. Wie geht es Ihnen? I’m so glad we finally got a moment alone. I apologize for the circumstances but you know how the politics are these days… it’s so… toxic. Ja? Now, be a good boy and hand me the glock you have at your hip,” a young woman smiled on the seat beside him. She was wearing all black and blended in against the dark leather seats and tinted windows. Agent Miller frowned, his hands unmoving.

“That doesn’t seem fair, does it? You’re putting me at a disadvantage here.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself like that, Agent Miller. You and I both know what you’re capable of,” she chuckled mockingly but her sunglasses hid her true meaning. “Give me your gun, now.” Her voice was hard and cool like a porcelain plate, one of the perfect edges with a chip. Agent Miller raised his hand slowly and moved his jacket to the side, showing his holster. As soon as she had his gun in her hand she tapped the glass partition between them and the driver, signaling him to drive.

“Where are we going?” Agent Miller sighed calmly, leaning back against the seat. Y/N smiled, pleased at his temperament. It made things easier.

“One of my favorite places in New York City,” she answered with a smirk, a gun still trained at the man beside her though it had been lowered.

“And what kind of place could that be, god forbid?” Agent Miller asked rhetorically and looked over at the window beside him.

“The Plaza Hotel,” she answered slowly and shifted in her seat. Her pleated leather skirt shifted across her black stockings, showing more of her thigh, fleshy and round. Agent Miller noticed it and smirked, the comedy of the situation being too much for him to take seriously. The car stopped at the back of the hotel by the service entrance. Men exited out of the building and held a door open, waiting as Y/N escorted the CIA agent inside. Agent Miller followed her calmly as he searched for someone who could help him.

“No one’s here. It’s off-season,” she sighed lightly and pushed him into an elevator.

“It’s never off-season in New York,” Agent Miller raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Surprise, surprise.”

They took the elevator up to the top floor. Agent Miller’s hands began to sweat as he was led out of the elevator and around the corridor to a suite, separated from the others.

“You must get a good salary,” Agent Miller cracked as the woman jerked the gun towards the door of the suite. He kept his hands visible as he entered the room and looked around. The room was large and was actually made up of multiple rooms. In the center of the living room area, a chair had been left out.

“Sit down and make yourself comfortable. Bitte.” She had a way of talking that sounded like a purr but it was clear to Agent Miller that her words were more threatening than they sounded. Still, it was hard to take her seriously. It was hard to believe that this woman was the deadliest spy in East Germany.

“Danke schön,” Agent Miller muttered, his American accent muddling the German.

"Kannst du Deutsch sprechen, Herr Miller?” Y/N pretended to sound surprised as she closed and bolted the lock. “I’m flattered, really,” she smiled and removed her long black coat. Slowly she placed the coat on a couch’s arm and pulled off the blonde wig on her head, revealing her dark hair beneath which fell into a messy bob around her shoulders, over her dark mauve blouse. Last she removed her sunglasses and folded them neatly on her coat. Then she met his eyes.

“Nein? Well, then it's good I’m so fluent in English. You would never tell by my accent. At least, you didn’t the last time we met.”

“We’ve met before?” Agent Miller asked and shifted in his chair.

“Oh yes.” She smiled and dimples deepened on her cheeks.

An image came back to him, one of a young woman dropping a stack of manuscripts in the lobby of a hotel where they had been investigating the last crime scene. She’d been wearing a long brown wig and tortoiseshell glasses. She even had brown contacts in her eyes to hide her true eye color. He’d stopped to help her collect the manuscripts.

Oh gosh, thank you so much. So sorry about that. My boss is going to kill me. Thank you! She’d blushed as he handed her the papers. He’d met her before. She’d shown herself to him just to play with him. He scowled.

“Now I feel even more at a disadvantage.”

“How? After all, you’re the big-shot CIA agent, due for a promotion any day now… and I’m just a little girl. I don’t need any real smarts, not when I can just use my good looks to get what I want. Right, Agent Miller?” Her voice darkened as she finished, flashing with resentment. “You could fight me right now. It’s just the two of us. I’m surprised you didn’t. You’ve had ample opportunities to but you blindly follow my orders. It’s not that you’re scared to hurt me, you aren’t that sexist.”

“I don’t see the point of fighting when you’ve put so much work into getting me alone. I assume you have something to say.” Agent Miller swallowed, his cool facade slipping slightly as the woman approached him slowly.

“Aw how chivalrous of you! Oh, but what if I told you that I was only interested in getting you alone so that I could finally get even with you.” Y/N twirled the gun around her pointer finger and shifted it to his chest. He stiffened.

“Get even?”

“Settle the score,” she offered with a shrug.

“I don’t think I follow,” Agent Miller frowned warily.

“Then let me explain,” Y/N purred and with quick movements, she removed a pair of handcuffs from the back of her skirt and closed them tightly around both of his wrists, tying his hands around the back of the heavy chair. His eyes widened slightly when he realized what she had done.

“The fuck…” he started but she cut him off quickly.

“You didn’t think I could outsmart you or get the upper hand… you thought you could so easily catch me. And what a good job you’ve done!” She crossed her arms across her chest and set the gun down, smiling. Agent Miller averted his gaze, staring at the upper corner of the room. He clenched his jaw and struggled against the handcuffs for a brief moment.

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Agent Miller?”

“Figured what out?” He snapped impatiently.

“I've been planning this for months. Do you really think I accidentally removed my flashdrive wrong, coincidentally leaving you all of the information that i’ve gathered since starting my mission? You’ve really underestimated me,” she clucked her tongue and kicked off her high heels, standing barefoot in her pantyhose on the dark pink shag carpet.

“I knew you’d find the mistake, I wanted you to. You did everything you were supposed to do, good boy,” she carded her fingers through his dark hair. The soft warm lighting in the room brought out the freckles across his pale face. Just as he started to turn his eyes to hers, she yanked his hair back so that he was looking up at her. “But how did this special agent who graduated from MIT of all places, end up in this position?”

“Did you do all of this just to show me how smart you are?” Agent Miller growled as she continued to pull at his roots.

“Something like that,” she smiled again, “I get off when men think they’re smarter than I am. I like proving them wrong… and then killing them.”

“Is that your plan for tonight?” He tried to keep a level voice as the smell of her perfume wafted down to his nose. She shook her head slightly and chuckled.

“You’ve been trained to resist torture, so there won’t be much that I can get out of you that way. And anyway, there isn’t much that I don’t already know.” She released her grip on his hair and stepped back. Y/N moved to the bar cart, stocked with crystal jars of whiskey and bourbon.

“So what are you going to do to me?” Agent Miller raised an eyebrow as he watched her pour a small glass of whiskey. She turned slowly and approached him again, swirling the whiskey in her glass. She raised the glass to his lips and poured it gently into his mouth. He parted his lips for her, his eyes trained on her face.

“Whatever I want,” she whispered and pulled the glass from his lips. Agent Miller raised his eyebrow, swallowing.

“Won’t your government disapprove?” He scoffed and shifted in the seat, calming himself down. His body was starting to get hot and his collar got tighter.

“Shhh,” she shushed him, a finger pressed against her own lips. Y/N approached him again and trailed one manicured finger from his arm to his hand. He shivered beneath her touch and his heart began to race. He felt his pulse in his stomach as she carded her fingers through his hair again, softer this time. She placed one knee on the chair between his thighs, pressing against his crotch. She tipped his head back with the edge of her nail beneath his jaw and leaned in close, exhaling beside his jaw. Seeing an opportunity, Agent Miller tried to kick her, jutting his knee up because it wasn’t restrained. She stopped him quickly, forcing him back into the chair, not missing a beat. His breath caught in his throat and he nearly choked on it. Her hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed but not harshly. His skin was warm beneath her hand and she smiled, her white teeth flashing.

She pressed her knee sharply into his thigh, holding his leg down, and slid it closer to the top of his crotch. She chuckled softly when she felt the outline of his cock inside his pants with the side of her thigh. Agent Miller’s body tensed below her, his hands folding into fists as he exhaled sharply.

“Aw does this hurt?” She cooed as she dug her knee further into the flesh of his thigh. His jaw tightened as she teased him. Moving closer, she rested both knees between his thighs, forcing them against the arms and pinning them in place. Suddenly she was so close and her thighs were pressing against his stomach…

How was it that he was getting an erection from this shit-show? How could she get this reaction out of him so fucking quickly? He tried to even out his breath as she shifted in the seat, her hands trailing up his chest to the knot of his tie.

“What did you drug me with?” Agent Miller muttered. Strands of her hair brushed against his cheeks.

“You don’t have to resist it, Agent Miller.” She ran her hands down his sides beneath his dark blue suit jacket. His body was full and firm, and warm. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she whispered against his forehead.

“What did you put in my drink…” he repeated, his voice wavering in strength as her hand moved down his stomach to the front of his pants. His erection was pronounced and visible, pushing against the fly of his trousers. She must have given him something, something to get this response. He wasn’t even that turned on. He sighed, frustrated and mad. He turned his head to the side, avoiding her soft lips.

“You think I have to drug you to get this kind of response? Silly boy,” she slid off of his lap and sat on the edge of the couch in front of him. She crossed her legs at first and allowed her eyes to trail up his body like a man would to a woman. Agent Miller stared back, his blue eyes hard. She giggled and reached up her skirt, hooking her hands under her pantyhose and pulled it down her thighs. She rolled the pantyhose slowly down her calves and slipped it off her feet. Despite his best efforts, Agent Miller watched her closely, studying the way she pushed the pantyhose to the side with her foot.

“I prefer genuine responses, it helps with my ego,” she broke the silence and watched with a sly smile as Agent Miller swallowed. With a sigh she stood and leaned over the CIA agent, her hands gripped around the arm rests. “Are you embarrassed? The high and mighty CIA agent succumbing so quickly to someone like me?” She teased him sharply, a glint of malice behind her bright eyes. “Tell me, Agent Miller. You’re thinking about me… you want me to touch you more. You want to see what I could do to you.”

Agent Miller cocked his head slightly and sighed, pretending to be disinterested. Y/N grabbed his face, her fingers digging into either side of his jaw. When she kissed him, he exhaled, almost relieved. He kissed her back, forgetting himself and liking the way she tasted, the way her lips felt in his mouth. She pulled his face closer to hers, still hovering above him. She kissed him feverishly and he followed blindly, distracted by the pleasure found in each movement her lips made against his. Then as quickly as it had started, she pulled away and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Some of her lipstick was smudged across his mouth but he couldn’t tell. He was breathing heavily, his lips pulled apart so that he could catch his breath. She took a few steps back and grabbed a file from a nearby table. She flipped it open and turned the pages until she landed on the right one. She held the folder open in one hand and with the other she began to unbutton her blouse from the top down.

Agent Miller felt his cock throb as he watched her shrug off the silky blouse and drape it over the arm of the couch. When she turned he could see her black t-shirt bra fitted perfectly against her breasts. Her collarbones rose and fell as she breathed and Agent Miller nearly groaned. She read aloud from the file as she moved back to the chair.

“My records tell me that the last number of confirmed nuclear weapons in the American arsenal was 27,000. It’s been half a decade since that information was released to the Soviet Union. What is that number now?” She straddled his lap slowly, smoothing out her skirt over their legs. Agent Miller moved his eyes from her breasts to her face, trying to keep his face straight as he felt the woman’s hand unbuckle his belt.

“I can’t tell you that,” he managed as she played with the zipper of his fly, her fingers dancing over the hard bulge.

“Has the number grown?” She offered and slid her hand below his waistband. Her hand grazed the patch of his pubic hair before she reached his cock. He shivered and looked up at the ceiling of the hotel room. “More?” She asked softly as she wrapped her fingers around his erection, it was hot and wet in her hand. He was so sensitive already that he groaned softly when she touched him. She squeezed him softly and freed the hard length from his pants. She rubbed her hand up and down. Agent Miller panted softly as she masturbated him. His eyes snapped open and he watched her, their eyes locked.

“Has the number changed?” She asked again softly as the agent clenched his jaw.

“I can’t tell you that,” He fought the words out as her hand sped up.

“Are there less? Has the US been involved in a trade agreement for its nuclear weapons?” She pushed, her hand moving faster.

“Fuck…” Agent Miller panted as her grip tightened around him. His cheeks deepened with color and his chest shook as his climax built. Just as he felt like he was about to cum, Y/N pulled her hand away and clucked her tongue.

“You’re going to make this very hard on yourself,” she observed and smiled as she watched him pant. He was completely erect beneath her skirt, resting against her bare thigh. They stared at each other as he caught his breath. She snapped the folder closed and tossed it to the side, sighing impatiently.

“Who has the US traded with in the past year?” She asked, her hands holding his thighs down.

“That is public information. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“I want you to tell me about the trade deals you haven’t made public,” she loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons. “Which countries have illegal trade agreements with the US?” She added before kissing his neck, sucking on the soft flesh until she started to make hickeys. With her freehand she held his cock still as she lowered herself onto his head. She moved her hips slowly up and down and pulled away to look at his face. His adam's apple quivered in his throat as she moved on top of him.

“I-I can’t-fuck,” he gasped softly as she started to shift her hips over his lap, taking him deeper, “I can’t tell you that.”

“Come on, Agent Miller,” she whispered against his ear, “be a good boy for me,” she smirked. “Does it feel good? Is this harder than torture?” She teased him as her hips sped up, rocking back and forth. Agent Miller moaned softly as she held his face to face her. His mouth was agape in pleasure as she began to bounce slightly, falling hard on his cock. He grunted as she went faster, moaning theatrically against his lips which she refused to kiss.

“Do you want to cum, Agent Miller?” She whispered against his lips, her tongue touching his bottom lip with a flourish.

“Fuck…” he panted again.

“Can you cum for me?” She purred and Agent Miller nodded weakly, his eyes now closed. She smiled and pretended to pant, coaxing another deep moan from the man’s throat. “Has the US been sending nuclear weapons to West Germany?” She asked, raising herself up and holding him inside her. He weakly tried to thrust but she held him down.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his brows furrowed in frustration.

She snapped her hips down, taking him in again and hugging his cock. He gasped as his stomach tightened. He was going to cum.

“Has the US been sending nuclear weapons to West Germany?” She repeated sternly, not moving on his cock as the wave of climax started to dissipate again.

“I can’t fucking tell you that-fuck,” he growled when she moved her hips very slowly.

“But you can tell me, Agent Miller, and if you do, I’ll let you cum,” she stroked his cheek and kissed his jaw feverishly. “I want you to cum. Fuck, I want you to cum inside me too.” She whispered against his neck. When he resisted saying anything she pulled herself off and backed away towards the bed in the room beside them. Agent Miller watched her, his chest rising and falling quickly. Still watching him, she slid her leather skirt off, showing that she had no underwear on underneath. He felt like he might explode just by the sight of her.

“Jesus…” he groaned and let his head fall back against the back of the chair. He couldn’t help himself but look back as she undid her bra and dropped it to the floor. Standing completely naked, she laid back on the bed and propped herself up on her elbows.

“If you won’t cum, I’ll just have to finish myself off,” she sighed and trailed her fingers up her thigh to her cunt, wet from sex. “It just never feels as good.” She rubbed her fingers over her clit over and over again until she felt an orgasm grow. She curled her toes and bit her lip, grinding against her own hand. Agent Miller knew that he could look away but the scene was just too much to ignore. He watched as she arched her back and twisted her hips, reacting to the sensitivity of her clit. Her eyes danced below her eyelids as she thought up fantasies to fuel her climax. Rubbing harder, she started to moan softly and quivered. Agent Miller pulled at the handcuffs, struggling to remain calm as he watched her touch herself. As her orgasm finally arrived, she collapsed back onto the mattress and caught her breath.

“Enough,” Agent Miller sneered from the chair, still erect and horny. “At least get me out of these so I can fuck you the right way.”

Y/N smiled and hopped off of the bed, her tits bouncing slightly as she did.

“You want to fuck me, Agent Miller?” She leaned close to his face again. He stared back at her, his jaw set.

“Let’s get it over with,” he answered nonchalantly and she tilted his jaw up but didn’t kiss him. She undid the handcuffs around his wrists and he sprang to his feet, grabbing at her body. He kissed her feverishly, lapping at her mouth with his tongue hungrily. She pushed off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt as he slipped off his shoes and pants. They didn’t have time to remove his shirt before he entered her. He took hold of her hips to pull her closer and wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her close to his chest. She clawed her hands down his dress shirt, her knees high on either side of his waist. She moaned loudly and he studied the way she opened her mouth to do it, mesmerized by the way she reacted to him inside of her.

“Good boy,” she praised him when he sped up, hitting her G-spot. She reached her hand down between their bodies and rubbed at her clit, coaxing a stronger orgasm.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Agent Miller ordered, short of breath, “let me do it.” He massaged her clit himself, his large hands covering the front of her cunt. Her mouth fell open into a loud gasp as he synchronized his thrusts to the way he rubbed her clit.

“Fuck,” he exhaled tightly as he felt her flex around him.

“Keep going,” she wrapped her fingers around his neck and pulled him closer to her face, their mouths exchanging exhales, “fuck me right.”

He kissed her deeply as he moaned, the muscles in his back tightening beneath her nails. She was so tight and wet, he nearly came just thinking about it as he moved. She carded her fingers through his hair and pulled as he chased their peaking climax. He was grunting now as she began to finish around him, shaking without much control. He moved his hands back to her hips and rocked himself deep inside of her as he brought on his orgasm. He came inside of her with loud grunts, thrusting until he’d finished completely. Only when he was done did he pull out and collapse beside her on the elegant duvet. He panted loudly, exhausted. They remained in silence until Y/N rolled over, putting her lips close to his ear.

“You know, I didn’t have to ask you all those questions. I already know the answers.” Her voice was serious and cold, Agent Miller eyed her.

“Then why did you ask?”

“I wanted to see you tied down,” she answered calmly. He raised his eyebrow and scoffed just before the sting of a cold, sterilized needle pinched his neck. Then he quickly went to sleep.

When he awoke, he found himself alone in the hotel room. Everything had been returned to normal and the place scrubbed for fingerprints. And she was gone. She’d gotten away again.

#lenny miller #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader #cillian fanfic #cillian x y/n #cillian x reader #smut #Anna #agent miller #long reads #1980s #fem!reader

264 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Title: Flu Season.

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader (HxH).

Word Count: 1.6k.

TW: Kidnapping, Mentions of Guns, and Imprisonment.

[I have a fever. Excuse the self-indulgence.]

It should’ve been enough that you’d just been kidnapped.

Dragged into the storage closet of an art gallery you could barely afford to visit, bound and gagged and blindfolded, the barrel of a gun shoved into the notch underneath your diaphragm as a man with slicked-back hair and a woman in a wine-red suit walked you out of an obscured backdoor and into a windowless van, already stocked with haphazardly packaged paintings and sculptures. It was just business as usual, the woman had explained, as if that would make you feel any better. They’d keep you as a hostage until attention died down, sell off the stolen artwork, and drop you off on the outskirts of the nearest city, alive and unharmed. As long as you didn’t put up a fight or get on anyone’s nerves, you’d walk away just fine.

Or, mostly fine, at least. Really, you had to be the unluckiest person in the world.

It wasn’t enough that you’d just been kidnapped by some shady, hyper-violent gang of thieves.

You had to get kidnapped, then come down with a cold.

Or the flu. It might’ve been the flu. You definitely had a fever. You couldn’t take your temperature, but you could feel those tell-tale chills, the splitting headaches, the constant pull of an exhaustion no amount of sleep would’ve been able to sedate. Your throat was raw from coughing, your head pounding and your tongue permanently dry, but you’d resigned yourself to nursing the lukewarm glass of stale water you’d gathered the strength to get for yourself more than a few hours ago. You barely had the energy to stand, but it wasn’t as if you could ask your kidnappers to wait on you. They seemed begrudgingly tolerant of your presence – vaguely amused at best, mildly annoyed at worst. It was safer not to draw any attention to yourself, even if that meant suffering alone for another few days.

Another sudden chill, another knot of ache in the back of your skull. You shuddered, pulling the small pile of blankets and quilts you’d amassed that much closer. The abandoned mansion they’d chosen as their temporary lair was an awful, drafty structure – all rotting wood and dirt-caked windows and thin walls that did nothing to keep out the winter air. You’d holed yourself up in one of the countless decaying bedrooms, but even the surprisingly clean king-sized mattress offered little consolation. That, paired with the holes in the walls, the layer of dust coated over every surface, didn’t make you feel very—

Your bleary thoughts were cut off by the sound of your bedroom door creaking open, of quiet footsteps approaching the spot where you laid. You shot up on reflex, but that immediately proved to be a mistake – a jolt of pure agony racing from the nape of your neck to your temples and settling in the space just behind your eyes. Cursing under your breath, you buried your face in your hands, doing your best to block out the light and soothe the sudden pain, but you didn’t have much time to console yourself. The intruder had already reached your bedside, the plush mattress dipping under their weight as they settled into your space. You spared them a withering glance, but once again, that only seemed to make things worse.

For whatever reason, the thieves’ leader himself – Chrollo, if memory served – had seen fit to pay you a visit.

And just when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse.

You stiffened, pressed your back into the dilapidated headboard, did what you could to make yourself look small and unremarkable without giving him the impression that you were meek enough to go down without a fight (despite the fact that, if worst came to worst, you probably would). For what it was worth, he didn’t seem hostile. If anything, the expression written across his face was one of pleasant neutrality – a slight smirk paired with a distant look in his eyes, like he had a million things to do and whatever he’d come to you for barely ranked on his list of concerns. When he noticed you were looking at him, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. Rather, he only lifted the hand furthest from you, bringing a nondescript plastic bag into your line of sight and placing it in front of you gingerly, as if he was leaving a hunk of raw meat in front of some exotic beast.

It was only when you failed to react that he started to explain himself. “I heard you were sick.”

Fuck. And you thought you’d managed to fly under his radar.

“I… I think it’s just a cold.” Because colds were safer than flus, easier to recover from and only half as contagious. Because they were less likely to decide you weren’t worth the effort it’d take to keep you around if you just had a cold. “I should be alright in a couple of days, but if you think we’ll need to move before that—”

“Oh, no, it’ll be another week or so before we move on. You'll have plenty of time to recover.” He spoke casually, as if they weren’t wanted fugitives. As if you weren’t a bargaining chip for them to flaunt in front of the police if things went south. He gestured towards the bag, his grin growing just a little wider. “Let me know if I missed something. I tried for variety, but I can make a second trip if you find that your needs haven’t been met.”

Hesitantly, you took up the bag, dragging it into your lap and pulling it open. The contents consisted of what a friend might’ve brought over after you’d missed a morning lecture to a particularly bad hangover. Mineral water, tissues, brand-name painkillers and generic cough medicine. There were a few sporadic add-ons, too – chocolate bars, two bracelets with matching broken clasps and a silver wedding band, a miniature teddy bear that’d clearly been plucked off of a Valentine’s Day clearance rack, but you choose not to linger on those any longer than you had to. Honestly, you were just glad not to find any bullet casings or disembodied extremities. “One of nen’s many silver linings. Once your body surpasses a certain point, illness tends to be more of a peripheral hazard than a daily inconvenience,” he went on, as you rummaged through the bag. “I’m a little out of practice, but hopefully, this will suffice.”

You weren’t exactly sure what he was talking about, but you did your best to nod along, only letting a small portion of your confusion shine through. None of this made sense, none of this was anything you’d ever thought to prepare yourself for, but when he finished, you scrambled to respond, as eager to please as he seemed to be to soak in your praise. “Thank you. It’s perfect, I—” The air hitched in your throat, and anything you might’ve said broke down into a violent coughing fit, only somewhat stifled by the back of your hand. He was still staring at you, when you found the strength to look toward him again, still wearing that fucking smile. Something quirked inside of your chest, and you turned away from him sharply. “I appreciate it, I really do, b-but I’m not sure what’s going on, and I don’t want to disrespect the— your—”

“The Phantom Troupe,” he finished. “My Spiders.”

“Right. That. I don't know how to deal with that.” You shook your head, letting out a slight sigh. “I’m sorry, I don’t really keep up with the world of high-class art theft.”

“Oh, we steal all sorts of things. Art, antiques, the occasional organ.” He paused, then seemed to brighten, his tone taking on a kind of childlike eagerness. “A few years ago, a buyer I’m closely acquainted with was interested in amassing a collection of teeth from notable living figures. It was a dull job, but it paid well enough, and my group made the most of it. We're very versatile.”

There was another chill, this time with a source other than your smoldering fever. You wrapped your arms over your chest, shrinking into yourself, but if Chrollo cared about how reflexively you pulled away from him, he didn’t seem to think of it as a mistake that couldn’t be corrected with a breath of a laugh, a slight tap to his knee. “Come here.”

It wasn’t a question, a request, but you considered refusing for one brief, delusional second before ignoring your better judgment and moving towards him – gradually, at first, as slowly as you were able to, until you’d gotten just a little too close and he was able to lash out, to snake an arm around your waist and pull you against his chest. There was a low chuckle, a hand brought to your cheek before it was used to brush the hair away from your face. He held you like that for a long moment – tucked against him, fingers tangled in your hair, his lips ghosting over your forehead – before his grip slackened and his hand fell back to your waist, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. “Poor thing,” he muttered, his voice muffled by your skin. “You’re burning up.”

He let you go as quickly as he’d taken you up, unraveling himself from you and rising to his feet. There was a click of his tongue, a new lilt to his smile, and when he spoke, he did so with a certain lightness – as if he was playing a role he’d spent just a little too long preparing for. “I’ll make tea. Try to get some rest while I’m gone.”

You waited for him to leave, but he didn’t move, didn't look away from you. With no small amount of trepidation, you turned your back to him, lying on your side and drawing the tussled blankets over yourself. That earned a hum of approval, but you didn’t let yourself so much as breathe until you heard his light footsteps, until the bedroom door groaned closed and you were left alone with only the impending knowledge that you wouldn’t be, for very long.

At least things couldn’t get any worse, right?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere scenarios #hunterxhunter #hunter x hunter #hxh imagines #hxh #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter imagines #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yanderecore #yancore

2K notes · View notes

ro-written · 11 months

Text

Take a Ride - K.Y

Tags/Warnings: phew boy…18+ ONLY! MDNI! AT ALL! SMUT. There’s definitely plot there, biker!yeosang, no pronouns really used for reader but there are feminine pet names, very light alcohol drinking, heavy making out, fluff, I barely reread and edited this sorry

Smut Tags: exhibitionism (sex on a motorcycle), oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex, reader has a coochie, pet names towards reader (pretty girl, good girl, baby, doll), fingering, begging, grinding, scratching, PROTECTED SEX, Yeo’s got a big dick, Yeo keeps his condoms in his wallet (don't do that lmao), love at first fuck(???)

Word Count: 5.6k

Playlist:

“Fly - FKJ Remix” by June Marieezy “Body Language” by Doja Cat “Harley’s in Hawaii” by Katy Perry “Pink + White” by Frank Ocean

Being able to vacation days off from work was difficult, especially in your profession. So when it was offered to you by your supervisor, you agreed without hesitation. As soon as you got home, you messaged your best friend. You had both talked about having a little vacation and going to an island, away from the hustle and bustle of your usual lives, and taking in all the more tropical views that you never got to experience living in a city. That same night you had your bags packed and plane tickets booked for the next morning.

The Airbnb your friend had chosen was stunning. The backdoor opened up directly to the sight of the ocean and the trees surrounding the view. The window in your room offered a similar view. As soon as you opened it, a breeze filled the space, bringing in the salty smell of the ocean with it. It made your shoulders relax a bit, eyes closed as the heat of the sun refreshingly warmed your face. For once you weren’t thinking of all the work that sat waiting for you, or anything that was on your to-do list. You were instead listening to the birds chirping, the waves crashing against the rocks nearby, the leaves on the trees brushing against each other with every waft of wind.

After a few minutes of standing there and swaying gently back and forth with the wind, your friend finally knocked on your door.

“Hello hello,” they peeked their head around to make sure you weren’t occupied. You smiled and waved them in, going to sit on the bed.

“What’s up?”

“Well…there’s this bar nearby that I believe is calling out our names. Wait–” they gasped before grabbing your arm. “Can you hear that? It was just there!” You rolled your eyes at their ever-dramatic antics.

“So you wanna go drinking when it’s,” you shifted to look at the clock on your phone. “It just turned 3:10.” They nodded back excitedly, grin wide on their face.

“And we can get shitfaced and go walking on the beach that’s right outside our doorstep during the sunset!”

…It all did sound very tempting. You mulled it over as your friend sat next to you, bouncing up and down in anticipation. You finally nodded, coming to the conclusion that you were on your own time, not needing to hold back from enjoying yourself. They flung their arms around your neck before getting up and running to go change.

—

For it being a Friday, the building was surprisingly barely busy. There were a few people here and there, drinking and either talking to someone or watching whatever the bar had on TV. You and your friend grab a corner booth. After writing down your order, your friend went to the bar to get your drinks from the bartender. It was then that you heard motorcycle rumbles from outside the building, and through the very tiny window, you could see two bikes parking in one spot. Both people on the bikes got off, and one immediately took his helmet off. He was a bit taller than the other one and had short black hair and a sharp nose. The second motorcyclist had been in the middle of unclipping his helmet when your friend suddenly appeared at your side.

“Here you go! I got a double shot for mine but yours is just the regular amount. I didn’t know how hard you were going tonight.” They said with a smile. Your attention was brought back to the drink they had set in front of you on the small napkin. It was a deep red color and while it had a strong smell, it wasn’t unpleasant.

“Thank you so so much, I owe you one.” You smile at them as you use the tiny black straw to taste the drink, dubbed “The Icey Crab” on the menu. Corny, but the drink is damn good.

At that moment, the two motorcyclists you saw before swung the door to the bar open. The taller one walked in first, leather pants and boots appearing before the rest of him. He stepped in and to the side, as the other biker came in. The other one, the one you didn’t get a chance to see take his helmet off, was…gorgeous, to say the least. His face looked as if it had been carved from marble. There was a slight dark mark on the side of his face and it accentuated his beautiful eyes. His long dark hair framed his face perfectly. Not to mention his arms. His muscle tank allowed his muscular triceps to be on display. And you were certainly taking it in.

“Hey.” Your friend snapped their fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to what they had been saying. Their eyes followed yours over to where the two men had come in and were setting themselves up at the bar.

“Ahh, I see how it is then. Which one were you eyeing?” They smirked and nudged you repeatedly, making you lightly hit their arm and roll your eyes. “I’m going to guess it’s the long-haired one? Definitely your type.”

“Please, I don’t have a type.” Their eyebrows shot up at you over the glass held to their lips.

“Don’t just lie like that, I’ve known you for way too long.” They giggled, eyes going back over to the two men. One of them, the taller one, seemed to look right over at your table at that exact moment, catching your friend’s eye. They grinned and raised their glass in greeting the new man. He returned it back, smirking as he said something to his long-haired friend who was simply sipping on his drink and seemed startled when the tall one spoke. He too followed his friend's view over to your booth, and his eyes landed on you.

“Well, I think I’ve snagged his friend, if you want alone time with him, yeah?” They said as they looked back at you, excitement glimmering in their eyes as they downed the rest of their drink.

“And what happened to us headed to have a little drunk walk on the beach?” You crossed your arms over your chest, a smile on your lips as your voice stayed playful.

“Well, we can do that any other night, right? We have some vacation days, let’s really use them.” They wiggled their eyebrows at you, making you let out a laugh. You see a figure approach the table from the corner of your eye, something you could only assume belonged to the tall man at the bar. You brought your drink up to your lips to hide your smile, as your friend stared at you in amusement.

“Hi,” the tall man’s deep voice seized your friend’s eyes from you. “I couldn’t help but notice your drink was empty.” Your friend looked down at the glass in fake surprise, as if they hadn’t realized what they were doing. Even though they knew exactly what they were doing. It was a tactic they used quite frequently, emptying their glass and waiting for whoever they had been eye-fucking to buy them a new drink.

“I didn’t even notice, how astute.” They smiled at him and raised their glass up in front of his face.

“Maybe we can change that?” His eyebrow quirked as he lightly grabbed the glass.

“Sounds like a deal…?”

“Park Seonghwa,” He introduced himself and looked over at you for the first time, giving you a smile. Almost as a sign of good intentions, ensuring you he didn’t plan on doing anything of ill will towards them. You nodded and looked at your friend, who stared at you. You both had each other’s location tracker on and you knew they had protective measures.

“Alright, Mr. Park, let’s see if you can guess my favorite drink.”

The two of them walked away, and you watched with a smile, feeling glad that your friend could find something to distract them. You knew how busy they had been with their job and family. It was rare for them to go out anymore. If anyone needed time to be a little irresponsible, it was definitely them.

“So, your friend fell for the ‘Your glass is empty’ line?”

A deep voice startled you out of your thoughts, and you looked at the man standing next to your booth’s table. It was the other biker, the one who had come with Seonghwa. His attention on you made your face burn, and it took you a few seconds to realize what he had said.

“Well, your friend fell for the ‘Oh, my glass is empty?’ bit. Maybe they were made for each other.” You smiled at the long-haired man as he laughed, looking down at the table for a second. His smile was very pretty, especially with how his eyes curved when his cheeks pushed up. His black hair fell into his face, and some impulse within you wished to reach out and push them back.

“Maybe they were.” He looked over his shoulder to the two of them at the bar, laughing about something. You could see a vein popping out in his neck, running all the way down to his broad chest. He was definitely your type, your friend was right. Especially with the way his hands looked as they rested on the table. Fuck it, if they’re gonna have fun tonight, I am too.

“I’m Y/N.” His eyes came back to you as you stuck your hand out in greeting. He took it, a jolt going through you at the feeling of his skin.

“Yeosang.”

Once he sat down on the other side of the rounded booth, the two of you spent hours talking about various things. What brought you to the island, what kinds of jobs you both did (he was a mechanic), what towns you lived in, what town you originally came from, et cetera. He was very interesting, not to mention very intelligent, and while he seemed reserved initially, he slowly opened up to show a more comedic side. The two of you had almost completely forgotten to check on your friends until Seonghwa came by to let Yeosang know that he and your friend were headed out. You gave your friend a good once over, making sure they weren’t shitfaced and still coherent. Relieved to find them acting their usual self, you had no reservations about letting them head out without you.

As soon as they were both out the door, you watched through the window as they climbed on the back of Seonghwa’s motorcycle, putting his helmet on. Yeo laughed at his friend, apparently trying to “act cool.”

“There are times when he struggles to even talk to someone, but then there’s moments where he’s got massive game. I don’t even know how I keep up with him.” You smiled as he kept on talking about his friend, the genuine fondness showing through his words. Something about how he talked about Seonghwa was so deeply endearing. It made your heart flutter a little in your chest.

Your talks kept up as more people filtered into the bar, creating a hotter and stuffier atmosphere. He inched closer and closer to you, both of you struggling to hear the other as more voices came into the building, and the music got louder. After a while, you two just looked at each other and laughed, finding it ridiculous. You couldn’t help but notice, however, just how close he was. Merely inches apart as he leaned into your ear.

“I think we should head out.”

—

Yeosang parked the motorcycle right in a hidden clearing, taking your hand and bringing you to the edge of a cliff a few feet from the bike. You looked over it, deciding that if he was a murderer, he really wouldn’t have been able to kill you with the drop. Sure, maybe some bruises or a scratch, a bit of muscle ache, but definitely not death.

“I’m not trying to murder you, you know,” he lets out with a low chuckle, reading your mind. “I just wanna show you my favorite view out here. Especially with the sun setting. You have to wait a few more minutes, but it’s so worth it.” He smiles brightly at you, and you couldn’t help but look at how the light from the lowering sun made his skin glow. You smiled back, watching as he walked back to his bike to lean against it, his toned legs stretched out in front of him, arms crossed and showing off his muscular build. He patted the spot next to him, beckoning you over. You obliged, leaning your body against the seat of the bike, arms brushing his as he stared out at the view and watched the different birds crossing over the water.

You struggled to look at the view, eyes constantly straying over to him and his face, the birthmark next to his eye standing out. It took your restraint to keep from listening to your impulsive thoughts to reach out and trace it.

You wanted to brush back his long black hair to get a better view of it, maybe even gather it up in your hand. That brought on a new wave of thoughts, ones that included your grip on his hair, pushing him in between your legs, eyes closed as he–

“It’s impolite to stare you know.”

Your face burned as you turned away towards the ocean, eyes looking downwards. His chuckle reverberated into your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him look over at you, one eyebrow raised and a smirk gracing his face. He managed to look both devilish and angelic at the same time, a feat you never realized could be done before.

“Sorry, just…lost in thought.”

“It’s okay, pretty girl. Maybe you should take a picture next time, hm?” His smile widened a bit after that, and you rolled your eyes, even though the smile playing at your lips contradicted the movement. The water crashed against the shore, providing background noise surrounding the two of you. You had expected him to have turned his attention back to the shifting sunset, but you could still see him focused on you.

You tried to ignore his eyes piercing you, dragging down the length of your body. His tongue peeked out behind his lips, swiping over them in a way you wished to do. Gathering your thoughts that melted all together you slightly turned your head toward him, eyebrow raised.

“You don’t practice what you preach?” You bit out. Something in the way he smiled tossed your stomach in a way not unpleasant. His eyes kept shifting between your eyes down to your lips, eventually losing the battle and fixating themselves on the way you brought your bottom lip into your mouth to lightly bite at it.

“Why don’t you let me do that, hm?” Was the only thing he said before a hand reached out to grab the side of your face. He gave you a chance to pull back, and as soon as he realized you didn’t plan to, he leaned in. You sharply sucked air in, his lips brushing gently over yours as your eyes fluttered closed. After what felt like minutes of building anticipation, he pressed himself against you. Both hands grasped at your face as he deepened the kiss, tongue lightly swiping at your lips.

Maybe it was the one drink in your system, or maybe it was the way your body felt like it craved every possible touch from him, but you let him take complete control. His body pushed you against the seat of his bike, his hands coming down to either side of you to cage you in. This time your hands came up to grab either side of his face, your body pressing into him as if you could get any closer. His hips moved into yours a little, wanting to show you the effects you already had on him. He was strained against his pants, gently rocking into you to find some sort of relief. It made you grin a bit against his mouth, knowing how much power you had over this man you only met a few short hours ago.

His mouth left yours to start trailing against your jaw and down your neck. He sucked harder in some areas that you knew would leave sensitive purple marks in the morning. It was when he reached down the base of your neck under your ear that you let out a sound that fell between a sharp sigh and a squeak. At this, he smiled into your neck, lapping at the spot before gently nipping at it.

“I love your sounds, pretty girl,” he noted before continuing around the column of your neck. It was agonizing, wanting him to finally get to where you truly needed him. You whined as his hand moved to your thigh, slowly starting to make progress toward your core.

“Yeo please–” He hushed you as you started to plead.

“I’m gonna make sure you get what you need, baby. Patience.”

The hand on your thigh came back up to wrap around your waist, gripping so tight that you were sure bruises would form in the shape of his fingers later. Your hands made their way into his hair, lightly gripping the strands and tugging a bit to encourage him to move faster. His eyes fluttered closed and the deep groan that came out of him made you clench around nothing. How could someone make such a sinfully beautiful sound like that?

His eyes opened and it felt like they were staring into the very depths of you. Something dark and exhilarating floated in his pupils, sending a shiver through you as his hands gripped you impossibly tighter, arms flexing in the loose muscle tank.

“Lean back on my bike, doll.” His voice had dropped several octaves and it reverberated in your body, nodding as you listened to his instructions. You place both hands on either side of your body as you lean your weight backward, allowing him to move to the waistband of your jeans and undo the buttons and zipper. Pushing both your pants and underwear down, you kicked them off over your sneakers. As he watched, he caught a glimpse of the damp spot on your underwear and smiled.

“We’ve barely done anything baby.” Your face burned as you rolled your eyes, trying to not fold under his charms.

“Whate– shit.” His fingers cut off your rebuttal as they lightly skimmed over your slit, humming in mockery of your reaction. Your head tilted back as your hips moved up, a futile attempt at trying to get him to press just a little harder. He refused to put any more pressure besides gentle brushes, occasionally nudging your clit when you move your hips just right. His feather-light touches drew out small whimpers from you as you endeavored to keep most of your sounds in.

After what felt like forever, he moved his hand away, making your head dizzy at the sudden shifting. Before you could complain, he was sinking to his knees, gloved hands grabbing your thighs to bring them on his shoulders, shifting your weight around so you were fully reliant on both him and his bike. One of your hands came up to grab his hair on instinct, gripping it between your fingers.

His breath ghosted over your wet lips, making you shiver and tighten your hold on his scalp. The tip of his nose rubbed along your slit, causing you to buck your hips again into him. You looked down, mouth opening to complain about his teasing. However, the sight below you distracts from the whine that had been at your tongue. Yeosang’s eyes meet yours, half-closed in a drunken state. He somehow looked even more ethereal this way, his senses completely filled with just you.

“Please” was all you could muster out. He nodded his head, understanding your plea, and his tongue came out to separate your folds, licking up the wetness he had thoroughly spread. Your body felt as if had simultaneously relaxed from the end of his initial teasing, as well as tensed up from the sensations he gave. His tongue flicked against your clit, making you jolt upwards in surprise. You felt his tongue circle around your clit before he began to suck it into his mouth gently, tongue going back and forth over it. Your stomach tightened up, your grip on his hair pushing him more into you. He hummed at the pressure, causing ripples of pleasure to roll through you.

He released your clit to move downwards, his tongue dipping into your cunt and curving up. Your other hand, the one not in his hair, came up to cover your mouth from releasing the long moan on the verge of slipping out. He continued dipping his tongue in you and flicking up, making it harder and harder to keep your noises in. Your thighs clenched around his head, and his fingers tightened to help keep you steady.

He leaned back a bit from you, allowing you to have a deep breath as you clenched around nothing. You looked at how his mouth shined from your slick, a smile gracing his features as he took a second to breathe. One of his hands released your thigh, and using his nails he lightly grazed across your skin until his hand was at your entrance.

“Is this okay, doll?” He looked up at you with concerned eyes, checking to ensure you were okay. You smile and nod, thumb rubbing his scalp and pushing some of his hair back. He nodded with you, and slowly pushed two fingers into you, allowing you to adjust to the thickness. Your eyes fluttered closed, focusing on the way his fingers opened you. It had been a while since you had anything other than yourself inside you, so the stretch was a welcome burn.

“Breathe.” He gently whispered, making you realize you had been holding your breath the entire time. Your inhale was a bit wobbly, but you finally exhaled and relaxed around him.

“Good girl.”

His fingers started to move, not fully leaving out of you before they were pushed back in again. He curled them upwards, looking for something inside you.

“I need…please…faster,” you shakily managed to get out. He huffed out a light chuckle, and you looked down at him through hooded eyes.

“My baby is so good at begging.”

His fingers picked up their pace, leaving you to struggle to catch your breath. Eventually, he found what he was looking for, as your back arched when he prodded at one spot within you. With your eyes closed, you sensed him pause and move below you, before feeling his mouth suck your clit in again. The new sensation, along with the continuous pressing on the sensitive area in you, had you unable to hold back your moans. Your senses were completely overwhelmed in the best way possible. And the pressure in your stomach started to build more and more with every hit of his fingers.

“Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me?” His voice rocked through you, not letting up his movements. Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes closed tightly. It was too much to try to hold back and with a few final movements, both hands flew to his head. You held him as close as you could, the pressure on your clit not stopping as you clenched tightly around his fingers.

He could hear you call his name as you finished, and it didn’t do anything to help the pressure in his pants. But he knew that if either of you wanted to move to that, you’d have to take at least one more finger to prepare. So as you came down with deep breaths, he pulled off you. Your head was still spinning as he kissed your inner thighs, bringing you back down.

“I want you in me, Yeo,” you managed out. You could see how much he was straining against his pants, and you wanted to help relieve some pressure for the both of you. His smile was soft and endearing, a switch from the man who just gave you a transcending orgasm.

“I know baby, I want to. But we need to prepare you just a bit more for that, okay?” His words took a moment to process. You thought you had prepared to take him, but as he slowly started to push three fingers in, you realized that you might have trouble walking tomorrow.

“Oh shit,” was all that came out, as the stretch made your eyes roll back. All the pain was masked under the slight overstimulation you felt. It was almost too much, but you desperately wanted to feel all of him in you, and if this is what it took to get there, then you wouldn’t complain.

It wasn’t an unusual feeling, you had experimented with three fingers before, but having someone else do it was what made you dizzy. Especially when his fingers were already so thick, it was more of a stretch than you were typically able to give yourself.

You took a breath, trying to relax around him. It was difficult though, as you kept clenching every time he moved back in. Watching as you sucked him in again repeatedly had him almost drooling. He couldn’t help from going back in, attaching himself to your already abused clit. It made your eyes jerk open in surprise. It made it even more difficult to relax, as you gripped him rhythmically.

“Yeosang, please!” Your voice cried out like music in his ears. He could feel the way your thighs shook around his head, tightening more and more from his attack. He knew he couldn’t hold on any longer, and just as your eyebrows started to furrow up again, he pulled away. His fingers left you, and he watched in a trance as you fluttered around nothing. A whine was pulled out of your mouth, bringing him back to you.

Gently placing your thighs off his shoulders for a moment, he stood, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. Out of it he grabbed a condom and placed the wrapper in his mouth. He quickly grabbed his shirt off, then unbuckled his belt, undid his pants, and hastily pushed them down with his boxers, kicking them off to the side.

Your mouth involuntarily dropped open. That’s definitely why he wanted me to have three. His dick hit his stomach as he focused on putting the condom on. To say he was well endowed would be an understatement, and you were starting to wonder if he shouldn’t have possibly used four fingers to open you up a bit more. It made your mouth water a bit at the idea of having that stretch you out. You had yet to have a partner with such a gift as Yeosang has, and you were quite excited to see if he knew how to use it.

He gripped your thighs again, putting them around his hips. One hand stayed holding a leg while the other grabbed around your waist. His dick rubbed between your folds as he slightly ground into you. With every motion upwards it caught on your clit, dragging along and making you cling to his shoulders.

“You still okay with this? We can stop now if you want.” It made your heart skip hearing him. He was being considerate, even with how much he was definitely holding himself back from ramming into you. His teeth were clenched, his jaw tense and defining his jawline. He’s so fucking beautiful.

“Yes, Sangie.” The nickname rolled off your tongue without a second thought, and it made you both stop and look into each other’s eyes. Something within his chest twisted hearing the way you said his name. And seeing you this way…it was something he knew he needed more of.

Your teeth caught your lip, looking down to watch how his girth spread your lips apart.

“What did I say about letting me do that.” He leaned down towards your face and kissed you. Your eyes fluttered shut at the touch of his soft lips against yours again. Your entire face felt tingly, allowing him to take over control of the kiss. As he pulled away, he bit down gently on your bottom lip, pulling it out slightly before letting it go. And as he rest his forehead against yours to look into your eyes, he finally adjusted his hips to slip in you.

The stretch was almost unbearable. Almost. You were beyond thankful that he prepared you thoroughly. And between your first orgasm and the heated makeout session you two had, you were virtually drenched with desire and need.

He stilled as he completely bottomed out. The feeling of him filling you up completely was overwhelming in the best way possible. Every sense was completely overtaken by the need for more of him. His taste, his smell, his touch. All of it. And after a while, you moved your hips to try to get him to continue.

“Move…please move.” You looked through your eyelashes at him, giving him your best pleading eyes. And looking at how pretty your eyes were in this scenario, it took him all he could to keep from pounding away. He slowly left your body, not fully taking himself out before thrusting hard into you. The movement jolted your body along with the bike under you, and he continued with the pace and force he wanted to use.

You brought a hand up to bite, an attempt at keeping your moans in at the feeling of being so full. He moved his hand from your thigh to grab at your hand muffling your sounds, pulling it away from your mouth and placing it on his chest, before he returned his hand back to your thigh.

“I want…I need to hear my pretty girl,” he groaned out, punctuating his words with particularly hard thrusts causing moans to spill out. You felt him twitch inside you with every sound drawn out of you. “Can you feel what your pretty noises do to me, baby? You sound so beautiful.”

Your nails dug into his skin, running across his chest and grabbing his biceps. Red streaks followed your fingers, and you felt his hard biceps ripple every time he pulled you onto him. His strength only served to turn you on more, clenching around his length. That erupted a deep groan from his chest, an enchanting sound that you would definitely keep engrained in your memory.

The coil in your stomach tightened more with each thrust. You knew you needed just a little bit more, something to truly tip you over the edge. You took one of your hands off his upper arms and moved to circle your clit. That was it. You were thrown over your precipice as your eyes rolled back into your head. All you could think was Yeosang, Yeosang, Yeosang.

He watched as your back arched into him, chest pressing against his as he slowed down a bit, letting you ride your waves. You eventually came back down, eyes hazy and glazed over. The slow drags of his cock helped to ride out the aftershocks. Your body fell limp into him.

Yeosang eventually started to pick up the pace, the dazed look in your eyes spurring him on. His low moans in your ear signaled the nearing of his end. His thrusts became sporadic as his grip tightened impossibly more on your thigh. He was using you to get off now and it made a rush of heat fill your body. His hair fell in front of his face, his eyes shut tightly as he focused on his own pleasure.

“Cum, Sangie. I wanna see you cum, please please please.” You whined into his ear, the overstimulation of his continual pace causing every nerve in your body to be lit on fire. Your nails dug deeper into his shoulders, and they made their way to his back, dragging angry red lines across the expanse. You felt how his cock twitched at that, and a deep groan emanated from his throat. There it is. You kept dragging your nails across his back feeling as his pace started to lose its rhythm. And finally, with one last deep moan, he stilled in you, his face buried deep in your neck.

You felt his breath fanning across your neck, your eyes blinking shut at the sensation. It all felt truly perfect. His deep breaths in your ear, the feeling of being so full of him, his body weight resting slightly on yours, arm around your waist keeping you close to him, the smell of the ocean and your bodies mixed. He slowly started pressing delicate kisses down your neck and into your shoulder, causing a shiver to wrack through your body.

“That was…that was really good,” he giggled in his deep voice. You nodded, not trusting your voice just yet. He moved away from your neck to look down at you and your blissed-out face. He swore he could stay like this forever, watching as the light from the sunset cast beautiful colors onto your skin, giving you a glow.

And then your eyes opened to meet him again, and something about the way you smiled at him made him realize that this was not just a one-time thing.

~~~

Do not repost or translate any of my work anywhere else.

All comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome!

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez smut #kang yeosang #kang yeosang x reader #kang yeosang smut #kang yeosang ateez #kang yeosang fluff #kang yeosang imagines #yeosang x reader #yeosang ateez #yeosang smut

875 notes · View notes