#but i deserve to know my body outside of that gaze too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forlix · 6 months

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𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠・h.h.

— you're uninviting, there's no doubt about that, your resolve like unpolished diamond and tongue like broken glass. but hyunjin finds you're not half as impossible as everyone assumes you are.

words・11.1k

pairing・idol!hyunjin x female stylist!reader (inspired by this)

genres・fluff, angst, eventual smut so MDNI, some hurt/comfort, some humor, mc is a bad bitch and hyunjin is a #simp, enemies? to lovers, sexual tension, workplace relationship, mutual pining, slow burn, nonlinear narrative, alternating perspectives

warnings・cunnilingus, overstimulation, creampie (practice safe sex!!), mild dacryphilia. again, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WITH THIS POST WILL BE BLOCKED.

warnings (cont'd.)・reader vividly remembers an anxiety attack. alcohol is consumed. lots of compartmentalization and imperfect communication. latter half is just kind of sad in general tbh but what do u expect from a fic based off alex turner lyrics

playlist・farewell, neverland by txt・like crazy by jimin・black friday by tom odell・collide by justine skye・crying lightning by arctic monkeys

a/n・call me victor frankenstein bc i've given birth to a MONSTER (except i actually love and care for mine ofc). this was easily the greatest challenge of my fanfiction-writing career and it feels like my magnum opus; i hope it's worth the wait! also a huge shoutout to sahar for being my voice of reason and my biggest supporter :’) i don’t deserve u i love u

Present day. Cannes, France. 5:54 P.M.

You’ve long made peace with the fact that Hwang Hyunjin is incapable of shutting up for more than five minutes.

As it is, the man has a mouth that runs like a cross-country marathon; then throw in his uncanny aptitude for annoying you, and what do you get? A nonstop slew of terrible jokes and teasing quips, tailored according to his thorough mental manual of what gets under your skin hardest and fastest.

This is the reality you live in, presumably because you were evil in your past life, and you’ve steeled yourself to see it through.

But twenty minutes have passed since you and Hyunjin ducked into the back of a cab and gave the driver the show’s address—and, as stunning as the red rooftops and lazuline coastline of Cannes are, you find you’re more interested in Hyunjin’s peculiar silence.

You move your gaze to his face. He’s looking outside, his chin resting upon the palm of his hand, the afternoon sunlight dusting over his chiseled features like polish on pottery; his complexion an exuberant gold against the cream-colored linen that makes up his clothing.

Maybe it’s because you opted for a simpler makeup look today, leaving the most telling contours of his face warm and bare, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last year committing his every mannerism and expression to memory. Nevertheless, you see through his pursed lips and tight brow right away.

“Nervous?”

Hyunjin’s head swivels towards you with a small snap, like he’s forgotten you’re here. His lips fall open, their glossy peach color glinting with the small shift.

“No,” he replies reflexively, but then his facade flickers. “Fuck, maybe a little. It’s just hard to believe, you know?”

You do know. It was a huge honor for both of you when Hyunjin was named the newest global ambassador of Versace. For you to be attending the brand’s pop-up show in one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, among some of the world’s most prolific creatives, is truly incomprehensible. Even you’ve been feeling antsy since you landed; you can only imagine Hyunjin’s anxiety.

You have never been good at consolation. You think your mouth is too coarse, your propensity for honesty too strong. But you’ve always known just what to say when it comes to him.

“Just remember who you are.”

Hyunjin takes a few seconds to process your words, but his understanding washes over his whole body; straightens his back; hardens his gaze. You don’t see this change in posture, though. You’re too busy looking anywhere else, all of a sudden feeling quite embarrassed.

Nor do you see the private smile that disperses across Hyunjin’s lips; his eyes softening so, so marginally when they peer at your profile; his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, as if contemplating reaching for you with a mind of its own.

Thirty seconds. That is the amount of time you have left to bask in this otherworldly tranquility. And then he speaks.

“I want you to meet my parents.”

Your arm reacts before your mind can. Without having to turn your head an inch, you smack him squarely in the bicep, sending him crumpling against his door with a bark of a laugh; “please,” he adds, and you’re biting back a smile as you hit him again, with less conviction this time.

The cab driver nearly misses an exit, too busy wondering about the peculiar pair in his backseat and the nature of your relationship. He can’t tell if you hate each other or if you’re married.

One year ago. Seoul, South Korea. 8:42 A.M.

“I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me.”

“For my newborn daughter.”

“Yeah, okay. I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me for your newborn daughter. What does that brat have that I don’t?”

“My genes, to begin with.”

“That’s unfair. She’s using—”

An important-looking pair of women step out of the nearest elevators, the clacking of their heels ricocheting sharply off the lobby walls. Hyunjin straightens his back so quickly he thinks he pulls a muscle. He and Seojun incline their heads in perfect sync, their “good morning”s prim and professional.

“She’s using cheats,” Hyunjin hisses the second the women are out of earshot again, and this wrests a laugh from the older man at last.

Around one month prior, Seojun confided in Hyunjin that he and his partner were expecting their first child soon, and that he would be putting his career on indefinite hiatus to welcome her into the world.

Hyunjin had never felt so conflicted in his life. On one hand, he’d grown closer to his stylist over the last two years than he’d thought possible, and he knew it was stupid to be anything but delighted for him and his expanding family. On the other hand, it was precisely because they’d become so close that he wanted to grab the man by the ankles and shake the decision clean out of his body. He couldn’t imagine a dressing room or tour bus without him.

Today is a Saturday, but it’s also Seojun’s last day with the company. Hyunjin dragged himself to the JYP building at half past eight with much less reluctance than he let on. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Fourth floor,” Seojun instructs after the pair enter the elevator, and Hyunjin presses a knuckle to the according number. “Thanks.”

The doors slide shut; the floor numbers tick upwards.

“What was her name again?” Hyunjin asks.

“Y/N,” Seojun returns. “Y/L/N.”

“Is she here already?”

“No, she’ll be here at nine.”

There’s a small pause.

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“I feel like I’m being married off to another family for political reasons.”

“God, I can’t wait to be free of your theatrics.”

At this, the two men make eye contact; exchange smiles. The elevator announces their arrival to the fourth floor, and they step through the doors.

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seojun reassures. “She’s the best of the best. I hear she’s basically running the industry these days. I’m surprised she agreed to take you on.”

“I’m surprised an old fry like you knows someone like her,” Hyunjin replies, and the look Seojun gives him is so withering that he thinks he pulls a muscle again with his apologetic bow.

“You’re not wrong, though,” Seojun concedes. “We happened to work on the same project back when she was still a small name, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. She’s a great kid. Ambitious, hardworking, strong as hell—”

They arrive outside their destination, and Hyunjin holds open the door to the conference room. Only to find that Seojun has stopped in his footsteps, temporarily stunned by a new realization.

She reminds me of him.

“He’s forgotten how to walk,” the him in question whispers like he’s narrating a nature documentary, and the moment is over. “Is this what fatherhood does to a man?”

Seojun kicks Hyunjin into the room by the seat of his pants.

The minutes pass slowly. Seojun moves his eyes between the door and his phone every few seconds, visibly antsy about the imminent meeting. In the meantime, Hyunjin makes the groundbreaking discovery that these office chairs are absurdly and almost suspiciously comfortable. All it takes is a chin upon his palm and a few seconds of shut-eye, and he’s suddenly slumped over the table, snoring softly into the crook of his elbow.

At 8:57, Seojun’s phone lights up with a new notification. At 8:58, he notices that Hyunjin is asleep, and closes his hand around the crumpled receipt in his pocket. At 8:59, he scrunches said receipt into a ball and launches it in Hyunjin’s direction. It hits him squarely on the head, and the boy is nearly knocked to the floor like a bowling pin.

“For that,” Hyunjin sputters, “I’m the godfather.”

“Absolutely the hell not.”

Then, it is 9:00.

When the door of the conference room opens, Hyunjin is still trying to gather his wits, wondering if the bastard is leaving the makeup industry to secretly pursue a career in professional basketball. He just barely notices the unfamiliar figure who steps into his line of vision.

“There she is,” Seojun greets warmly, rising to his feet right away. “God, how long has it been? Two, three years now?”

You’re not doing anything remarkable when Hyunjin sees you for the first time, simply walking across the room and bowing graciously in Seojun’s direction, but he is immediately under the vague impression that you’re cutting through space as you move, scorching the particles of air that dare obstruct your path.

With his head cocked slightly to the left, like a fascinated puppy, Hyunjin watches the stunning smile that forms on your lips when you take Seojun’s hand; your finger as it tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with the elegance of rippling silk. His mind feels impossibly slow, like you’ve tapped open his skull and robbed him of his ability to think.

Then, you toss Hyunjin a look over your shoulder, and he’s reminded of lightning forking towards the earth. Terrifying, volatile, beautiful.

“Something like that,” you say, turning back to Seojun, and time starts to move again. “It’s great to see you again, Mr. Lee. Congratulations on the baby.”

“Please, Seojun is fine,” he answers hastily. “And thank you. Thank you for all of this, actually. I can’t tell you how excited we are to have you.”

“You’re too kind—I’m excited too.”

Upon uttering the word “we,” Seojun delivers Hyunjin a fleeting side-eye; he takes the hint and pushes himself to his feet, feeling uncharacteristically clumsy as he moves towards you.

The second time he meets your gaze, it feels wrong, almost, for him to hold it for as long as he does. Like he’s approaching your throne with his chin held high and eyes fixed forward instead of his head sweeping the ground.

Except he swears he senses a strange warmth within the rings of your irises, and he spends every second of eye contact following, chasing it, almost craning his neck with how badly he wants to get a closer look. Until he’s as close to you as is socially acceptable for a first meeting and comes to a halt.

He ends up losing its trail, but he won’t forget that it’s there.

“My client, I’m guessing?” You say, extending your hand. “Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

Your fingers are freezing cold where they meet his, and Hyunjin already knows that melting the permafrost that coats your flesh and guards your soul will be the tallest task of his life.

But he finds his next words accompanied by an involuntary smirk; he’s nothing, if not tenacious.

“Hyunjin,” he returns. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Nine months ago. Paris, France. 6:16 P.M.

Hyunjin isn’t sure why—maybe you forget that he can still steal glances at your reflection over your shoulder or through the gaps of your fingers—but he’s learned over the last four weeks that you’re different, gentler, when you’re doing his makeup.

Your cold hands request instead of demand that he angle his head a certain way or suck in his cheeks. Your syllables are rounder somehow, your voice never traveling above a murmur. Even your eyes mellow out when you move in really close, your pupils dilating as you detail the final touches to the fresco you’ve painted upon him.

Your expression doesn’t give you away (it never does), but his hunch is that there’s a sprinkle of doting somewhere among the intense focus. That would explain why he feels like a flower in the moments when your fingertips and gaze move so carefully over his skin, like you’re touching his petals, trying not to tear them.

Too bad you never let him daydream for long.

“Close.”

“Huh?”

“Your eyes. Close them.”

His lashes have hardly brushed his lower lids when you begin to empty what feels like an entire bottle of setting spray on him. At the moist surprise, Hyunjin’s features scrunch up around his nose and he lets out a distraught hack like an old man.

A few seconds later, the barrage stops, and he cracks open a wary eye to scope out his surroundings. You wait until he does this to give his face one last spurt.

“Witch,” Hyunjin mutters, clawing back up the vanity chair.

“Thank you,” you reply, completely earnestly.

And whatever Hyunjin was going to say next suspends instantly on his tongue when you bring the pad of your thumb to the very edge of his lower lip and drag it across the soft flesh. He wonders if you know how hard he tries not to look at your mouth whenever you tend to his. He wonders if there’s anything you don’t know.

“You smudged your lipstick already.” There’s a small streak of coral pink on your hand when it falls back to your side. “See? That’s why we need the setting spray.”

“Uh huh.” And Hyunjin spots a ghost of a smile flit across your face, gone nearly as soon as it appears. The only evidence of it ever existing is the quickened heartbeat it leaves behind within him.

“You’re done, by the way,” you say, stepping aside. “Take a look.”

He slips out of his seat and moves closer to the vanity, peering at his reflection as curiously as if he’s never seen it before. But that’s how he’s felt since he started working with you.

Seojun was right: you are the best that the makeup industry has to offer. Hyunjin has come to understand this for multiple reasons. Your phone screen is incessantly illuminated by new notifications and incoming calls. The other stylists heed your advice like it’s the law. Brushes and pencils move like water when it’s you maneuvering them. And then some.

He would call what you have “talent,” but he knows it’s more than that. You show him a new version of himself every time you turn a mirror in his direction, like there are facets of him that are visible to you and you only. As much as he delights in the notion that you have such intimate knowledge of him, it should be impossible, considering you’ve only known him for two months. So no, it’s not just talent that you possess. It’s some combination of talent, hawkish perception, and raw artistry that is utterly inhuman—and sexy as fuck.

Speaking of sexy. Hyunjin’s look is relatively rudimentary tonight, the makeup light, the outfit a simple black tank top beneath a jacket and pants made of bright red velvet. But it’s the details that tie the whole thing together: the wide, loose sleeves causing the jacket to slip continually off his shoulders; the inner layer tight in all the right places. His face doesn’t look half bad either, with the sultry carmine powder that fringes his eyes and the intentionally mussed state of his hair. He pushes a hand through the dark locks, regarding himself with thorough appreciation.

You appear in his periphery as you start cleaning up your work station. “You can just take the jacket off when your sweat glands start malfunctioning, by the way. I thought you’d appreciate that detail.”

At this, his smize cracks into a laugh, the sound loud and uninhibited and uniquely yours to hear. “You suck.”

He looks away from his reflection just in time to glimpse another of your phantom smiles, and he thinks it’s so painfully on brand that the two times it’s appeared tonight have both been from you making yourself laugh. You might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. He might be obsessed with you anyways.

“Well?” You implore. “What do you think?”

“No notes.”

It’s the answer you’re expecting. You survey him from head to toe one last time, decide that you, too, are satisfied, and slip your makeup into your bag; hike its strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you after the show, then.”

You have an important conference call to attend before tonight’s concert, hence why Hyunjin had to come in early for hair and makeup. This is also the reason why the two of you have been the only people in the dressing room for the better part of an hour.

It’s rare that he ever gets you alone, and he doesn’t want it to end. Not just yet.

“I lied, actually,” he calls. “I do have notes.”

You already have one foot out the door when you hear this, and you turn around so slowly and in such disbelief that he has to fight to constrain his laugh—the concept of imperfection is truly unthinkable to you. Insufferable, like he said.

“Do tell,” you say, dropping your bag back onto the floor.

“You have any jewelry for me?”

You chew on this for a moment. You did have a selection of necklaces prepared for tonight, but they were heavy and numerous, not exactly the best-suited for the group’s dynamic sets. You still like them, granted, and you know Hyunjin would as well.

You articulate all of this to him, and he asks if he can take a look at them anyways. “Come here, then,” you say, the words so tantalizing when they fall from your lips that nearly trips over himself trying to obey.

You take out a flat rectangular box from your bag and set it down in front of the lightbulb-studded mirrors. Hyunjin observes quietly as you show him its contents: three thick, gold chains with varying lengths and boasting different pendants, plus a beaded bracelet and an assembly of rings of the same material. His devious plan aside, he does love the selection.

“You’re sure you won’t be uncomfortable?”

He nods, and you pick up the longest of the three chains; turn to him expectedly. He takes this as his cue to move closer to you, except he overshoots a little, and he feels the tips of his shoes accidentally bump into the ends of yours; discerns the warmth emanating from your body against his own. He expects a withering glare, a kick in the shin, maybe, but you don’t seem bothered by the proximity at all, unblinking as you bring your hands around the either side of his neck and fasten the first necklace with a soft tap. Your fingers then brush over his collarbones to adjust the pendant, and he thinks your hands would have to be numb not to perceive the frantic heartbeat threatening to burst straight out of his skin.

Entire minutes pass before Hyunjin musters the courage to actually look at you. By then, you’re already working on the third and final necklace. It’s not a surprise that your face is mere inches away from his; he’s been watching your reflections out of the corner of his eye; he knows you’re closer to each other than you’ve ever been. But there are parts of you that the mirror doesn’t show—the soft curve of your lashes, the concentrated narrow of your eyes, the shapely protrusion of your pursed lips—and these surprise him so thoroughly that he slips and slides out of his right mind.

You are the type of beautiful that’s been around longer than humans have, the same as that of the true blue color of forget-me-nots. And Hyunjin feels enveloped, intoxicated by you from this minuscule distance. The idea forms numbly in his head that maybe, just maybe, he was put on this earth to admire you.

In this inebriated state, he makes a venturesome decision.

When you finish centering the last pendant upon the his chest, you are about to take a step back and review the updated look, but you’re debilitated by the feeling of fingers grazing over your hip—lightly, so lightly that you mistake them for a gust of wind at first, but the contact is enough to push the small of your back against the edge of the counter. Then, both of Hyunjin’s hands reach behind you, pressing flat against the marble surface, and, just like that, he has you right where he wants you, ensnared between cold stone and hot flesh.

And so begins an equilibrium so fragile that it’ll shatter if one of you so much as blinks the wrong way, your rattled breath fluttering against his lips, his eyes dark and hooded and out of focus as they survey the fine lines of your expression. It still doesn’t give you away (it never does), but he finds that in this moment he just doesn’t care.

“Let me take you out,” he murmurs. “One date.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You reply under your breath.

“You know what I’m talking about, beautiful.”

Upon uttering that last word, he angles his head almost imperceptibly, the movement challenging, daring you to say something about it. But you don’t. You merely hiss out a whetted “you’re fucking crazy,” and that’s his opening to drag this on a little longer; push your limits a little more.

“About you? Damn straight.”

At this, finally, fucking finally, there is a semblance of something in your face that isn’t just your usual mildly-irritated nonchalance. Instead, he detects surprise in the whites of your eyes as you widen them; as you part your lips with a response that only comes much later.

And he’s surprised by your surprise. Surely, with your skills of observation, you would’ve noticed long ago how his world shrinks down to only you and your gorgeous voice and your confident glare and your shitty sense of humor whenever he’s been granted the privilege of your presence.

This might be the first time he’s admitted it out loud, but he hasn’t tried—hasn’t been able—to hide how he feels about you, not now, not ever. It’s been that way since the moment the sole of your shoe met the carpet of that conference room on the fourth floor of the JYP building.

“Hwang—” You begin.

“Hyung!”

At the sound of a third, new voice, your arms tense like you’re about to shove Hyunjin off of you, but he only leans in further, so that his lips almost graze your jaw and your hands have nowhere to go except the taut surface of his chest. The surprise is gone; now you’re just pissed. He can feel the heat of your furious eyes and the tremor in your hands as you form fists around the fabric of his top. But he takes his sweet time in scooping up the bracelet and rings, and only afterwards does he pull away from you and straighten to his full height.

“Hey, Innie!” Hyunjin chirps, and Jeongin materializes in the doorway, looking thoroughly perturbed by the older boy’s sunny tone. “What’s up?”

In the meantime, you turn around to snap the lid of your jewelry box shut, and it takes a singular glance in the mirror for a truly horrible realization to settle upon your shoulders. You don’t think anybody would be able to tell even if you announced it outright, but you know yourself and the little nuances of your face all too well.

You’re flustered.

You feel like a horror movie heroine breaking the fourth wall.

“Nothing, weirdo. I was just announcing my arrival,” Jeongin says. Thank fuck you did, Hyunjin thinks to himself, completely unaware of the epiphany you’re having behind him. “Chan-hyung mentioned you were here already? Why?”

“She’s in high demand.” Hyunjin points out the she in question by jutting his chin in your direction. “The usual.”

“Ah.”

Jeongin inclines his head towards you in polite greeting. You return his hello, but your expression starts to feel tight when his eyes dart between the strange smile on Hyunjin’s face and your awkward stance (still glued to the edge of the counter) as he drops his duffel by the couch. The boy isn’t stupid, unlike his older counterpart.

“I saw a vending machine on my way here,” Jeongin says, turning to leave the room again. “You want anything, hyung? Noona?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say.

“I’ll have whatever you have,” Hyunjin says.

Jeongin flashes a thumbs-up and dips out of the room, perhaps a little more hastily than he intends to come across. And then there are two. Again.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps anymore, and then you turn to glower at Hyunjin so intensely that he thinks you’re about to place a curse on his whole bloodline.

Then, your phone starts vibrating, and he knows he’ll live to see another day.

“You still owe me an answer,” Hyunjin calls as you turn around and leave the room.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply.

One day, I’ll break her, is the predominant thought that resides in Hyunjin’s head as he slips on the remaining jewelry; watches your figure disappear around a corner. One day, I’ll break his face, is the predominant thought that resides in yours as you stalk away. That’s the two of you, in a nutshell.

Six months ago. Osaka, Japan. 3:03 P.M.

When you walk into the dressing room, you find Haeun hunched over an overflowing photo album with her hands forming fists in her hair, muttering to nobody in particular, “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

There’s an amused look in your eye as you set your bag down by Hyunjin’s empty vanity chair. She hasn’t noticed your presence yet; approximately three hallways down, the members are rehearsing for tonight’s performance on the main stage of the Kyocera Dome, and the music is so loud that you think you actually saw the walls vibrating while you were in the hallway moments ago.

You rise to your tiptoes and encroach upon her, waiting until she’s within reach to tickle the back of her neck. She nearly flies out of her seat with a shriek that can be heard over the heavy bass.

“Never gets old.” You hand her the photo album that went soaring also, and Haeun snatches it back with an affronted flourish.

“I can’t remember the last time you said hi to me normally, unnie.”

“Me neither, now that you mention it.”

Haeun and Han are your favorite stylist-idol duo in the world because they’re so eerily similar—and it’s adorable. They both illuminate every room they walk into; they both have grins too big for their faces, laughs too loud for their lungs. You always regret leaving your sunglasses at home when you catch sight of the effulgent pair.

But today you cannot detect the usual radiance in Haeun’s voice, nor so much as a hint of her easy grin. Then again, that’s another quality that she and her client share; they’re both well acquainted with the burdens that come with unwavering passion.

Every stylist has their own modus operandi. Haeun’s is a scrapbook of images that she cuts out and saves from catalogs, advertisements, newspapers, et cetera. You’ve seen it many times before, but never in such a state: messy handwriting stuffing the margins to their very brims, numbers and symbols like clusters of rainclouds over a sea of different outfits, arrows and circles and squares highlighting pant cuffs and cascade collars and dangling earrings. Telltale signs that Haeun hasn’t a clue as to what Han will be wearing tonight.

You gnaw on your lower lip, deliberating your next move. You end up placing a firm hand against the album’s cover and pushing it closed.

“Come with me,” you say. “We’re gonna try a new approach.”

Haeun opens her mouth to protest, but unfortunately you have an extensive track record of being right.

“What do you have in mind?” She sighs instead.

“You’ll see.”

With that, you stand up, tuck a small towel under your arm, and angle your head in the direction of the music.

The two of you make your way through the labyrinth of hallways that comprise the venue’s backstage. Eventually, the color of the floor changes from speckled white to solid black, and you step onto the part of the stage that is concealed from the audience by drawn curtains and heavy equipment. You say a quick hello to the group’s manager as you dip past him, and eventually reach the edge of the curtains, where you and Haeun have a good view of the eight members as they run through their setlist for tonight’s concert.

Haeun settles into the spot beside you, still confused as she follows your gaze.

“Let me ask you this,” you say, just audible over the din. “Can you style a performer if you don’t know how he performs?”

And understanding seeps over her features like poured tea.

“I want you to watch him,” you continue. “Tell me how he performs.”

Han’s part begins, as if on cue. His voice rings out through the empty stadium as he ducks to the front of the formation, a microphone held loosely to his lips, his face taut with focus. Haeun stares at him for some time, silently trying to fathom her observations, but she sees you shaking your head in the corner of her eye.

“Don’t think, Haeun. Just speak.”

She blows out a deep breath before obliging. “It’s hard to picture Han doing anything but laughing or making other people laugh, he’s so goofy and lighthearted most of the time. But he’s like a different person on stage. He’s so intense, it’s almost intimidating. Not intimidating in a douchey way, though—you just get the impression that he’s very confident in himself and his music.

You don’t say another word, but don’t need to. She’s hit her stride.

“His voice and enunciation are so clear. It’s crazy how he sounds exactly like the studio recording. Plus, his delivery feels genuine; he’s not just reciting lyrics, but speaking straight from his heart.

“And this is gonna sound bad, but I didn’t know Han could dance. Like, yeah, I knew that he could dance, but not like this. His movements are so sharp that I feel like my attention is being—”

Right there.

She cuts herself off, reaching the same conclusion.

“It’s his turn to talk, and he wants you to cling to his every word," Haeun articulates slowly. "He’s demanding your attention. He needs you to listen. That’s how he performs.”

A satisfied smile bolts across your face like lightning. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Haeun pictures her scrapbook again, and there are now only a few articles of clothing and accessories that fit the framework you’ve helped her forge. She’s almost dizzy with disbelief, tearing her eyes from Han to look at you instead.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“I do, but I appreciate the reminder.”

She can’t help but giggle. It’s a you answer if she’s ever heard one. “Do you do that with all of your clients?”

Haeun asks the question arbitrarily, without thinking. But you respond in a way that she doesn’t think she’s ever witnessed before, and she’s momentarily baffled by the sight: you hesitate.

As the song’s final chorus approaches, Hyunjin is the one folding himself into the center of the eight-person throng. You can only see his back from this angle, but even then it’s palpable how expertly and effortlessly he molds his body to the modulations of the music; how much fervor and feeling he expresses with every jerk of his spine and flex of his hands.

Within a few short seconds, innumerable descriptors and sensations skim the surface of your mind—but one word knocks the rest clean out of the water, the way it always does when you watch Hwang Hyunjin perform.

Artistry.

“No,” you reply. “Not all of them.”

And where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?

Haeun furrows a brow, understandably puzzled by this response, but you don’t elaborate. Partially because you feel like being coy, but mostly because you know that any explanation you offer will sound like a confession.

The song ends, leaving your ears ringing with the abrupt absence of sound. The members hold their poses with heaving shoulders, staring out into the empty stands until the stage manager’s voice comes through the monitors.

“And that’s a wrap! We’re all set for tonight. Good work, everyone.”

There is a ripple of movement around the stage as the boys relax. Jeongin jogs over to Minho, hoping to review a particularly challenging dance break; the manager asks Chan if he has a second to discuss travel logistics; Seungmin plops onto the edge of the stage and downs the rest of his water; Hyunjin beelines toward you the second he sees you, because of course he does.

You get a good look at him as he skips closer. Stray blonde locks plastered against his damp skin, tank top dyed several shades darker by the perspiration rolling down his neck, the muscles of his arms actually rippling as he swings them around stupidly, a shit-eating smile plastered across his stunning face.

You’re annoyed before he says a word.

“I didn’t know they were letting fans backstage now,” he hums happily. “Want an autograph, gorgeous?”

“Put a sock in it.” You whisk the towel you’ve been holding in his direction. “Wet freak.”

But he catches and tosses it over his shoulder straightaway, and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle. You’ve seen this movie before. You know how it ends.

“No.” You take a shaky step back. “No, nope, don’t even think about—”

The next thing you know, Hyunjin is lunging towards you and winding his arms around your waist, nearly sweeping you clean off your feet as he pulls you into his sweaty embrace. To your complete dismay, your face presses flat against the clammy plane of his chest. “Call me a wet freak again, go on,” he manages to say through his laughter.

In response, one of your hands wriggles free of its slippery prison and snatches the cuff of Hyunjin’s ear with impressive accuracy. He yelps and loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t relent completely, not even when he catches sight of the murderous expression on your face and cackles so forcefully his whole head is thrown back.

You tighten your grip. “Wet,” you seethe, “freak.”

“Ow—okay, don’t make it hot, what’s wrong with you?”

“Wha—what’s wrong with YOU?!”

As the two of you dissolve into your fatuous arguing, Haeun is no longer sure that she’s still standing here. She’s not even sure if she’s in her right mind anymore. She thinks she might be hallucinating the way everything about Hyunjin softens next to you, or the way your biting tone only seems to nibble when it’s him on the receiving end.

“Psst. We’ve been placing bets on them. You want in?”

Han suddenly materializes next to Haeun, and she would have been jumpscared into a different dimension if she wasn’t so fixated upon the bizarre occurrence before her.

But what if she’s not hallucinating?

No, not all of them, you’d said, like you were disclosing a forbidden secret.

“Yes,” she says, and Han beams. “Absolutely.”

Three months ago. Seoul, South Korea. 2:26 A.M.

On a tranquil Saturday night, you’re sitting at your desk, your knees tucked to your chest, the newest episode of your drama playing quietly on your laptop, a half-empty glass of rosé and open sketchbook laid before you. This is your happy place—a safe haven that the trials and tribulations of the real world can’t reach. But you think you’ve really gone and lost your mind when you find yourself thinking about your job.

Well, not your job, exactly. More like the man who makes your job feel fucking Sisyphean.

You know your way around fabric and foundation better than anyone, but you have never struggled with anything as much as you have trying to navigate Hyunjin. You show up to work every day ready to just put some makeup on the man; instead, you wind up stumbling around the potholes of his dimples and the hills of the veins that run over his forearms and hands like a hopeless drunkard. Scouring the creases of his smile and the oscillations of his voice like they’re topographical maps. Mentally replaying your interactions with him time and time again like you’re monitoring security footage, trying to detect illicit activity in every casual touch he leaves on your shoulder or waist; every babe or gorgeous he throws your way, seemingly without a second thought.

You’ve been trying to understand him and his intentions for seven months now, and your efforts have yielded no fruit whatsoever, save for a few theories that you feel insane for even humoring.

You down the rest of the blush-colored liquid, and as you set down your empty glass you notice your fingers itch with a familiar urge. The pen that you’ve been twirling over your knuckles stills, then swivels; its tip hovers over the last free corner of the sheet of cartridge paper below you. And then it presses upon the surface and starts to move, as naturally as if on its own.

When you were little, you came across a children’s book that you no longer remember the name of, about a little girl with a magical pen that brought her every drawing to life. You decided then that you would one day be that girl.

At some point, the subjects of your incessant sketching became almost exclusively runway models and makeup advertisements. You cemented that you wanted to work in fashion as early as your high school graduation, and by then you already possessed the conviction and charisma of the industry’s most experienced members. Your portfolio was stellar; your personality prophesied of wild success. So your career took off, propelled by the neverending positions and projects that various companies continually laid before your feet.

You stand and pad to your kitchen to refill your glass, only to bring the entire bottle of wine back to your room instead. With one hand, you flick the cap off and lift the whole thing to your lips; with the other, you seize your pen again, not wanting to lose momentum.

For the year or so after you joined the industry, you basked in your idyllic prosperity. Even the doodles you scrawled on random napkins during banal business lunches would appear on some of the world’s most renowned faces the next week. You had indubitably become the little girl from your story; made a career out of giving your imagination tangible form. And what a fruitful career it was going to be.

If only you knew how it would strengthen you in ways you never wanted.

The first time someone called you cold, it took you a while to realize that they were talking about you. The phrase was said so casually and lightheartedly that it sounded at first like a piece of unimportant small talk. But the whisper of cold bitch was then followed by a bout of stifled laughter and what was undoubtedly your name. Your heart stopped along with your footsteps, and you looked towards the source: two interns whose names you had yet to learn, while yours was already in their mouths.

You felt nothing until you were three stops away from your apartment, and then the bottom of the subway gave out beneath you and suddenly you were feeling everything. Only confusion, hurt, and rage at first, but then the other emotions that you’d been smothering tirelessly for who-knows-how-long tore free of their cerebral shackles too, and together they formed an amalgamation of anxiety that closed up your throat within seconds.

As your pen studs details into a shapely jawline, you remember how you’d shoved your way off the subway and made a mad dash into the night air. You remember how you collapsed against a utility pole in an unfamiliar neighborhood, how your knuckles paled around the ashen wood, how your tears tumbled over your lips and salted your tongue. You remember wanting to go home so badly that you thought your ribcage would cave in on itself with the weight of it. You remember begging for air, for you.

By the time the oxygen had returned to your lungs, the streets were empty save for you, crouched on the curb, your face buried in your arms, spent, shattered, and alone. You were only nineteen at the time.

You are now twenty-two, and the word “cold” has become a regular guest in the lodgings of your heart. You never invite it over, but you’re no longer surprised to find it at your door. It’s a thief, swiping pieces of you when it thinks you’re not looking—a fragment above the fireplace, a scrap from the cracks between the couch—and you know whenever you’re being robbed, know that you lose parts of yourself upon its every visit. But better that than acknowledging what you lose.

You allow it to walk away with full pockets every time.

Hyunjin does not.

“Three words to describe yourself. Go,” he said a few days ago, the two of you heading back to the tour bus after a filming session.

You were so used to these irrational inquiries of his that you didn’t bother trying to dodge this one. “You first.”

“Smart, sexy, suave,” he said immediately, but burst into a sheepish laugh at the sight of your weary glare. “Fine, fine, let me think. Ambitious, for one. Introspective, definitely—maybe overly so. And artistic. I’d like to think so, at least. Satisfied?”

The most creative person you knew doubting his own ingenuity was absurd to you, but you nodded begrudgingly. It was a good answer, for the most part.

“Now you.”

Honestly, the thief had surfaced the moment you heard the question, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to inform Hyunjin of its existence. Not because you didn’t trust him—you did, more than you had anyone in years—but because you didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if he agreed. You weren’t sure your heart would be able to take it.

When you met the boy’s gaze, though, the carob brown of his eyes was so curious and so comforting that you suspected that was never a possibility.

“Cold,” you mumbled. “I’ve been called cold before.”

There was a pregnant pause. You found yourself holding your breath. And then—

“That’s a joke, right?”

Hyunjin began to count off his fingers.

“Mean. So mean. Impossibly, infuriatingly confident. Talented, stubborn, strong. Funny, sometimes, I guess, though I’d rather you hit me with a metal pipe than admit that ever again.”

At this, you caved; a laugh erupted from your lips, leaving a genuine smile in its wake.

“Determined. Eloquent. Bossy. Some kind of evil, twisted genius. Contemplative, caring, compassionate. Fearless,” he went on. “You get my point. You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but cold isn’t one—”

He was about to say something mind-numbingly stupid. You could sense it in the air.

“—and not just because you’re hot.”

You smacked his bicep, the smile on your face now an uninhibited, helpless grin. And as he vanished into a fit of high-pitched laughter, you thought you sensed him crack open your door and slip your missing artifacts back to their rightful places.

Hyunjin began to climb into the bus, and you caught the cuff of his sleeve, your feet still planted on the pavement.

“Thank you,” you said.

The tremors of his fond chuckle traveled to your very core.

“Idiot,” he sighed softly.

Idiot, you write, and the drawings are complete.

When you stand up, the bottle is mostly gone—and so are you. You splash some water on your face in lieu of your skincare routine and prod the inside of your mouth a few times using a dry toothbrush, and then you dive beneath your duvet and are dead asleep in minutes. Your slumber is interrupted only by dreams of a world where your theories about Hyunjin aren’t just theories.

If you’d had even one mouthful less of rosé, you might’ve remembered that you picked up your phone and opened your most recent conversation somewhere between steps two and three.

[3:10 A.M.] To: Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids, JYP) Audio Message.wav

Hi. I’m drunk and I’m going to regret this tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow’s business. There’s something I need to tell you tonight.

After I moved to Seoul, I used to get these bouts of homesickness. Not in a standard ‘I wanna go home’ kind of way, but in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below me. I was always ready for it to swallow me alive. I would’ve been happy for it to.

But I haven’t felt that way since I met you. I realized this not too long ago, and it threw me for a fucking loop. I’ve never felt seen the way you see me. I’ve never been known the way you know me. Every time I look at you or hear your voice, it feels so much like returning home that I don’t have to dream of it anymore.

You called me fearless the other day, but you’re wrong. I’m terrified. I’m terrified that history is going to repeat itself, that another home will slip through the cracks between my fingers and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. And that’s why I’m so hesitant towards you, towards whatever this is, because I don’t want to go through that ever again.

So the thing I need to tell you is that I care about you. I care so much that I’m scared speaking it into existence will make it real and vulnerable to all the worst parts of the world. But it’s not speaking it into existence if I’m drunk, right? Maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ll never even hear this. So it doesn’t count. That’s how that works, surely.

Sorry if this was totally nonsensical. And sorry that I’m so bad at feelings. You must think I’m impossible, and I don’t blame you.

Good night, Hyunjin. Thank you, again.

One month ago. Los Angeles, United States. 12:37 A.M.

When Hyunjin steps out of the hotel’s tall glass double doors, he’s wearing a teatree facemask, and his bags are draped over the crooks of his elbows like he’s an upper-echelon socialite on his way back from a lavish shopping spree. And then he sees you standing next to the curb, and the situation dawns on him in bits and pieces.

You’re the only one here. The vans that were supposed to take you to the airport are nowhere to be seen. Boarding begins in four minutes.

A soft flinch crimps his features. Oops.

“Tomorrow night,” you’re saying into your receiver, but your attention is on him only, your penetrative gaze putting the dead in deadpan. “The absolute earliest. You’re sure?”

When you finish listening to the manager’s response, you heave a sigh that sags your shoulders and end the call with a jab that should’ve splintered your screen protector.

Then, you start walking towards him.

“Hi,” Hyunjin says, his eyes pleading for mercy. “You are so talented and beautiful. I don’t tell you that often enough, do I?”

He expects you to grab him by the cuff of his ear again, to throw him a retort that’s twice as mean as it is witty, something along those lines. But you merely push your suitcase in his direction, and it is then when he notices that your face is hard enough to chip enamel; that your eyes are eerily, entirely empty. The tendril of warmth that’s always dancing among the subtleties of your expressions, that he’s always pursuing to the very borders of his dreamscapes, is nowhere to be seen.

A shiver travels down Hyunjin’s spine as he curls his fingers around the plastic handle.

Something’s not right.

“We’re gonna have to stay here another day,” you say. “Can you check us in? I have some calls to make.”

“Us?” Hyunjin repeats.

“Junghan could only reserve one room,” you reply, your phone already glued back to your ear. “The hotel is fully booked for the next few months.”

With that, you’re already preoccupied with the next thing, turning to the side to reschedule a meeting. But Hyunjin can only stare blankly at your profile, trying and failing to grasp that he’s going to spend a night with the subject of his every daydream. Though you might be leaning more towards the nightmare end of the spectrum at the moment, considering the way your head snaps back in his direction like a woman possessed.

Go, you mouth, and he obliges.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin is in the elevator by himself. He speculates it’s an ingenious, intentional choice that the lights are turned off, so that whoever’s inside can watch the psychedelic lights of Los Angeles sprawl further and wider the higher they go. But he can’t think of anything except for the subzero nothingness where your irises should’ve been.

Hyunjin’s initial guess was that he crossed a line with this missed plane, but the more he thinks about it the clearer it becomes that this isn’t an isolated issue. It’s the culmination of something bigger. Something continuous.

You have become as familiar to him as the lines of his eyes or the ridges of his knuckles. He’s learned where to look for your feelings when he can’t find them in your face; studied your words and the undertones of your voice like they’re verses of scripture. Yet, it was around two months ago when Hyunjin looked at your side profile and couldn’t recognize you. He’d blinked, startled, and then you’d asked why he was looking at you so strangely, and everything returned to normal. He wrote it off as a side effect of sleep deprivation and paid it no more mind that day.

Except it happened again a few days later; again, not too long after, and Hyunjin began to suspect that he was losing his mind. You didn’t seem all that different—a bit more taciturn than usual, maybe, but you’d been busier than usual, too, your workspace always full of empty coffee cups by the end of the day, the pages of your planner more colorful and crammed than ever. The minor variances never struck him as a reason for worry.

“Stupid,” Hyunjin whispers bitterly.

He replays your interaction one more time. You, shoving your suitcase against his palm, telling him to go check in. Him, fastening his hand around the handle, sensing the bottomless void within you, feeling like he’d been dismissed from before your throne.

As he steps off the elevator and walks towards your designated room, he doesn’t understand how or why—but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s failed you.

Nearly an hour passes. The room only has one bed, so Hyunjin turns off the lights, folds himself onto the armchair by the floor-to-ceiling window, drapes a complimentary robe over his shoulders, and tries to sleep. He doesn’t know why he even tries. He’s exhausted, but he knows damn well there’s no hope of him getting any rest until he has you in his proximity again.

He doesn’t look at the door when he finally hears it open, but the knot of tension in his chest comes undone as soon as your silhouette appears in the hallway. He takes out his first real breath since leaving you at the hotel’s entrance.

You hear the sound it makes. You fall still.

“Hyunjin?”

His heart physically aches at how tired you sound. “Yeah?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” you answer. “Move to the bed. You’re not sleeping on that thing.”

He remains where he is, his chin resting on the side of his fist, his eyes glued to the flickering panorama of neon lights below him. You crouch to unzip something, and there’s a heavy thud of metal meeting cloth, presumably your laptop being tossed onto the bed’s mattress.

“Hello? Did you—”

“Is everything okay?”

A short pause follows his interruption.

“I still have a few emails to write, but everything’s been rescheduled, so as long as you don’t miss tomorrow’s flight, too, we should be—”

The robe slides off his lap as he pushes himself to his feet. “That’s not what I mean.”

The only source of light in the room is the lone light above the entrance, but it’s enough for him to see your face and the surprise etched upon it. You open your mouth, utter one syllable, and stop yourself immediately after, stunned into silence by the sobriety in Hyunjin’s expression.

“Enlighten me, then,” you say finally.

“You really don’t know?”

“What is there to know? That you missed a flight and pissed me the fuck off? Trust me, I’m aware.”

“No, that’s not—”

“So what are you talking about, then? Why are you talking in riddles? Fuck, what is it that you want from me?”

There’s real frustration in your voice, and it’s the first time you’ve shown him any emotion in pure, unadulterated form. With this, Hyunjin understands that he was right; this conversation is heading towards a culmination of some kind, and so are you, with the devastating force of a natural phenomenon.

He wonders if you’re prepared to destroy yourself, too.

“I know how you are around me,” you whisper. “You’re always acting like you’re trying to unearth something, and I figure this ‘something’ must be wonderful, because you look at me like I’m made of stars; you speak to me like you’re serenading a lover. But I am constantly, ceaselessly haunted by the possibility that this ‘something’ doesn’t exist, that you’re looking for the wrong thing in the wrong person.

“I know it’s selfish to ask for anything more than what you’ve already given me—you’re so kind, Hyunjin, and you’ve been nothing but since the day we met. But grant me one more wish, even if it is the last time you ever do.

“Tell me what you see in me,” you plead. “Otherwise, I will spend the rest of my life mourning the months of yours that you wasted on me.”

With that, it occurs to Hyunjin, falls upon and cracks open his mind like a piece of firewood, that you have never been aware of—never asked for—the throne you sit upon.

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides of your dark hotel room. You haven’t felt anything like this in a long time, your chest heaving with your heavy breaths, your vision muddied by both the lack of light and the desperation searing through your windpipe.

When Hyunjin finally begins to speak, his words wrest the oxygen from your lungs.

“After you moved to Seoul, you used to get these bouts of homesickness.”

Your mind careens; your heart reels.

“They came in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below you.” He takes a tentative step towards you. “You thought it was going to swallow you alive. You would’ve been happy for it to.”

You never got to listen to your voice note. You were blacked out when you recorded it and horrified when you discovered it in your chat logs the next morning; the wretched thing was unsent so quickly that you couldn’t check for a read receipt.

But there’s not a doubt in your mind that these are your words falling from Hyunjin’s lips.

“You haven’t felt that way since you met me, though.” He is only a few feet away from you now, and getting closer still. “You’ve never felt seen the way I see you. You’ve never been known the way I know you.”

God, you said that? Did you propose to him too?

“You’re terrified that another home will slip through the cracks between your fingers and there will be nothing you can do to stop it.” Hyunjin flattens his left hand upon the drywall next to your ear; pushes you back ever-so-gently against the hard surface. “I must think you’re impossible.”

And he brings his face so, so close to yours; looks at you with so much adoration, so much tenderness, that you feel the final bulwark around your heart fracture—

“I don’t,” Hyunjin breathes, cradling your cheek, “because you’re not. And I want to prove it to you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. That’s what I see in you.”

—and crumble.

You form fists in the lining of his hoodie. Hyunjin’s hand tightens where it lays over the curve of your jaw.

When you crash your lips upon his, he tastes the metallic sheen of electricity and the salt of tearwater both; he witnesses crying lightning, for the first time in human history.

Present day. Cannes, France. 9:15 P.M.

Hyunjin never thinks when he fucks you.

One part of it is that he physically can’t; his cognitive facilities shut down when he has you quivering beneath him, like his desire to pleasure you is too overwhelming for his mind to bear. The other part is that he doesn’t want to. He’s afraid that the voices of cynicism and trepidation that plague his mind every waking moment will taint the actualization of his wildest dreams.

Lucky for him, you manage to erase his mind on a daily basis with only one accidental touch or an apparition of a smile, so he doesn’t stand a chance whenever you let him between your legs.

“Trust me?” He whispers, imprinting the words upon the inside of your thigh.

“More than anyone,” you breathe, and just this has him tenting against his satin slacks.

Hyunjin used to see you scolding managers or moving racks twice your weight and think that was you in your element—tonight, he learned otherwise. You were so confident that even just the way you puffed your chest out prompted heads to turn and low voices to ask for your name; so charming that even by the end of your self-introduction you had every guest you spoke to eating out the palm of your hand.

Eating out your pussy, though, is Hyunjin’s privilege alone.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your dress and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of red fabric around your midriff; slides your panties off your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. All obstacles out of the way, Hyunjin winds his arms around your thighs and pins your hips to the mattress, slotting himself between your knees as they fall apart. Your ankles fold over the top of his head, and you’re about to ask if he’s okay like this, but then you feel the hot muscle of his tongue trace over your dripping folds—and every word of every language you’ve ever known is dispelled from your brain and your mouth in the form of a stuttered, euphoric moan.

He teases you first, drags his mouth over you so that he’s lapped up all of your slick, and just when you feel your patience thinning he pulls you apart with reverent hands and begins to suckle on your clit, as attentive to your every solicitation as always. You arch your back so high off the bed that your ankles knock Hyunjin’s head down a few inches, but the new angle is even better; grants him access to more of you.

He reinforces his grip around you, presses his torso right up against the side of the mattress, and gorges: sluices your labia until you’re spilling from his chin onto the sheets; flicks against your bundle of nerves until it’s pulsating and swollen on his mouth; fucks his tongue against your favorite spot until you’re curling your toes, seeing the whole solar system.

“Coming,” you blabber after some time. Tell me something I don’t know, he thinks to himself. “Coming, Hyune. I’m—fuck—”

Hyunjin is aware of the way you clench so hard around nothing that your pelvis hurts. He is aware of the way you’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re genuinely struggling to breathe. He doesn’t care. He wants to get the cadences of your climax tattooed into the gray matter of his brain, and there can’t be rests in the sheet music, can there?

He presses a hand flat on your stomach in preparation for your body’s protest, then returns his face to its place between your thighs; starts to leave kitten licks around the edges of your puffy folds before you can finish riding out your high. You press your tongue against the back of your front teeth, emitting a pained hiss as you draw a sharp breath, tears stinging at your eyes.

“Son of a bitch—”

“Trust me?” He asks again, his voice vibrating against your sore cunt, and your complaints quiet into whimpers as you bring a hand over your quivering mouth, and nod.

At least Hyunjin bridles his thirst the second time he eats your pussy open, his lips smacking openly and slowly over your every inch except the one that would be truly unbearable for you right now. He’s so rough and so fucking careful at once like he can’t decide between obliterating and worshipping your cunt.

He’ll end up doing both.

Within a few minutes, your legs have gone slack on either side of Hyunjin once again, and another coil has begun to tighten behind your bellybutton, equal parts pain and pleasure—but he knows your pussy just as well as he does your person by now, and it’s not long before the former is compounding with the latter.

Round two has a faster ascent and a steeper drop. He finds your spot again with the precision and ease of a trained marksman and fixates upon it like a man starved. It has your cries devolving to incoherent profanities and, to his unfettered delight, your foot actually shaking, your heel tapping against the back of his neck every time it comes down.

As if referencing a metronome, Hyunjin matches the rhythm of his tongue to your accelerando. Only when your leg is nearly convulsing does he wrap his lips back around your clit; slide two fingers into the place he leaves empty and pumps them into you until you are liquifying, igniting around him, your mewls lamenting the second orgasm he plucks from your core.

After your body has stilled, Hyunjin lifts his head, his face drenched in perspiration and saliva and you. His eyes travel over the slopes of your arms and the hills of your breasts, over the tears streaming from your eyes and staining the pillow you lie on. It is this last bit that has him shrugging off his shirt and undoing his dress pants with one hand, palming his throbbing cock with the other.

He clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, your mouth falling apart when he rolls your nipples between his fingers, strands of spit suspending between your tongues before dripping down onto your collarbone. You can sense what he wants in his craving lips, his pleading tongue—and you know he won’t ask for it. He’s tested you enough tonight; he’d rather your comfort than his pleasure.

But you guide his leaking head to your entrance, returning his stupefied look with a watery smile.

“Love me?” You ask this time, for the first time.

There is not even a nanosecond of hesitation when he answers, “with everything in me.”

He comes inside you the moment he bottoms out, your name leaving his lips in breathless, desperate repetition like a broken prayer as he topples off the same cliff he’d dropped you from moments ago. You curl a hand in his hair as he stutters against you, bring your lips flush against his ear, and whisper that you love him too—and the sight of you beneath him blurs he also starts to tear up.

This is the reality Hyunjin lives in, presumably because he was a saint in his past life, and it would be his utmost pleasure to see it through.

Two years later. Milan, Italy. 11:28 A.M.

For the last half hour, a ray of sunlight has repeatedly struck the diamond that sits between the second and third knuckle of your ring finger, and the Vogue journalist on the other side of your desk thinks he is slowly losing his vision. But when he asks his final question, your hand comes to a much-appreciated stop, the fountain pen you’ve been twirling around clattering to your tabletop.

“Where do you find your inspiration?”

As the journalist blinks the phosphenes from his eyes, he finally manages to get a good look at the face of Versace’s newest designer, and he detects something ineffable and warm in your expression.

“My inspiration, hm?” You fall silent for a short time, thinking. “If you asked me this at the start of my career, I’d have said ‘people.’ Their postures, their expressions, their wardrobes. I knew I was a goner when I watched a fashion show for the first time and noticed how the models’ attire helped them harness their innate power and grace—I wanted to orchestrate that kind of symbiosis, too. In that aspect, nothing has changed, actually. I still find wonder in human beings, and not just the ones on the runway. I think it would be difficult not to, don’t you?

“Some time ago, a good friend of mine was having trouble with an outfit for her client. She asked me a similar question, and only then did I realize that it was no longer just people that inspired me most, but a singular person. I had always been skeptical of the idea of a ‘muse’ until I met him. But I could only spend so long denying how he ventured closer to my soul than anything ever had, how he knew me and saw me like nobody ever could. He understood my art. He was my art, so—”

Your eyes dart over your ring, and the journalist would’ve flinched out of habit if he wasn’t so mesmerized by your eloquence.

“—where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?”

A few seconds elapse, and then you clear your throat and straighten your back, returning to your office from your trip down memory lane.

“That’s the long answer, anyways. The short answer would be my fiancé.”

The journalist laughs, and he doubts you’ll give him this next piece of information—but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try.

“And who would that be?”

He’s right. You don’t answer the question. But you do flash him an enigmatic smile, and for some reason it reminds him of lightning.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe

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hyunniesgirl · 2 months

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Bad intentions | Part 2

Pairing: Han Jisung x afab!reader

Summary: you thought you could turn Han Jisung into the perfect boyfriend material so you can get revenge on your cheating ex. Little did you know that you would end up getting much more than just a guy to show off.

Words count: 13,668(Idk don't look at me)

This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact!

It's advised to read part 1 before this one for context and better understanding of the plot.

Part 1 | Love is a mess: series masterlist

Warnings: dry humping, handjob, fingering, cursing, pet names(baby, pretty), oral(f, m receiving), unprotected piv(for the love of god don't do this irl), jealousy, angst, fluff

A/N: here I am again, procrastinating what I should be doing just so I can take this fic out of my head. Hope you guys like it ❣️

Seunghoon was never one to do acts of service, he would tell you he loved you and even though you didn't always believe that, that's what he offered and you just took it. You always thought that that was everything you deserved, better a bit of affection than no affection at all.

So you didn't expect to find Jisung waiting for you the next morning. He's outside of his car, scrolling on his phone, leaning against the vehicle.

You close your front door slowly, like he can just disappear if you make any hasty movements. As if Jisung can feel your presence, he lifts his eyes looking in your direction, smiling and waving to you.

“Fancy seeing you here”, he jokes, tilting his head when you come closer.

“In front of my… house?” You ask, smiling and he shrugs, embarrassed. He didn't really think it through, he just got into his car and when he realized, he was in front of your house.

“I just thought we could go to school together”, he kicks a rock on the ground, losing confidence, “but it's okay if you don't want to”

You step closer to him, taking his hand into yours and interlacing your fingers. That sudden electricity from before running through all your body the moment you touch him.

“Maybe you can convince me”, you tilt your head, biting on your lower lip while looking at his lips, looking extremely kissable.

“How?” His head snaps to look at you, following your gaze and understanding what you're suggesting. He feels his ears warm, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his.

Jisung kisses you, the warmth of his touch spreading all over your body. His tongue brushes against your lips and one of his hands slides through your hair, pulling it lightly.

You open your mouth slowly, too intoxicated by his scent to think clearly, putting your hands on his hips, sliding up just to find his deliciously small waist that you could never notice with the baggy clothes he wears.

“Well, you're full of surprises, aren't you?” You say when you two finally part the kiss.

He frowns, looking at you breathless.

“Shall we?” You ask, pointing at the car and he nods, turning around and opening the door for you. Before going in, you look at him, a playful smile on your lips. “You'll get me to do a lot of things if you keep using these means of persuasion”

For the first time in your life you don't want the spotlight to be on you, you feel uncomfortable being the center of attention. You know exactly why people are staring when you arrive at school with Jisung.

You wish you were being judged by showing up with a new guy barely a month after breaking up with Seunghoon, but that's not it.

People are looking at Jisung, you know they are. You don't mind the snickering comments or the idiotic jokes directed at you, but you don't want him to go through that.

“Should we have lunch together?” He asks you, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Actually, I don't know if I'll have lunch today”, you lie. If you think logically, you should try to stay away from him at school. Maybe people won't target him if you do that.

“Do you want me to take you home after school, then?” He asks, frowning, finding your sudden change of attitude strange.

“There's no need, I have practice”, you avoid his eyes, ashamed of yourself.

You're an idiot, you shouldn't have made such hasty decisions. You should have thought about how mean people would be to him if you brought him into the spotlight with you.

Jisung feels his stomach sinking in and he can't help but take a look at himself, he never really cared about the way he dressed. He wears anything that he finds that's clean, not worried about looking good or fashionable.

He has always been the smart guy, the one who has no care in the world other than the things he has his eyes set on and that has always been his studies and music.

His family was shocked when he chose a career in music since he could do anything else. He has the brains to choose any path that had success guaranteed but he chose something as uncertain as a career in the music industry.

He did end up being successful anyway, after meeting his friends and forming 3racha, it didn't take long for them to land a contract with a big label. The three of them stayed in college though, each for a different reason.

Looking at you though, you're very different from him. You worry about your image and what people think about you. If he looks at you, from your hair to your shoes everything is matched to perfection. You're always nice with everyone, even with the people you know talk shit about you and you still keep your grades up.

So why, someone who worries so much about her image would want to be seen with someone like him?

He never worried about his clothes or being popular, but now? He's very worried about those exact things. If you end up dating him, how will people perceive you? You're the center of attention so the person who's dating you, automatically will be in that same center.

Jisung decides to wait for you after practice, he knows you told him not to, but he knows that if he stays in his head, he'll go crazy – thinking about all the worst case scenarios where you're going to dump his ass anytime now just because he's not popular enough.

You smile when you see him but it dies down a few seconds later, when a group of girls from your cheer squad walks past you, laughing about something.

“Hey”, he says when you get closer.

“You didn't have to pick me up”, you say awkwardly, hoping he didn't hear what those girls said.

“Yeah, but I thought you would be too tired to walk back home-”

“It's just a short walk”, you tell him, pressing your lips in a thin line. He stares at you for a moment, frowning, debating in his mind if he should say something about your strange behavior and knowing that if he doesn't, it will eat him alive.

“Y/N?” He starts, voice too serious, “are you embarrassed because of me?”

Jisung really doesn't want to hear your answer, it would crush him if you said yes but he has the slight hope that you will deny it.

“No! No, absolutely not”, you shake your head frantically. He feels a huge weight being lifted off his back but at the same time, he still doesn't understand why you were acting like that.

“But then why-” you cut him mid sentence, taking a deep breath. Bold of you to assume that a person as smart as him wouldn't notice how you were acting.

“People can be really mean”, you tell him, “I'm afraid you're going to go through a hard time because of me”, you pout, feeling like crying. What if he agrees with you? What if he doesn't think you're worth the trouble?

“Why would you think that?” He searches for your hands, holding them and pulling you closer.

“If you date me, people are going to talk about you and I don't want you to hear the same things I have to”, you tell him, honestly.

Popularity is great, you love the attention but it has its downsides. The amount of times you had to listen to people talking shit about you in the restroom, when they didn't know you were there, is wild. You lost count of how many times you walked in on a conversation of someone talking something bad about you and you had to pretend like you didn't know.

You don't want Jisung to experience that, he's invisible now and he enjoys that, it's not fair that you would take him out of his comfort zone just to date you.

“What about you?” He asks, making you look at him with a frown. “You don't care that I don't know how to dress and that I’m basically invisible?”

You smile. Against your better judgment you don't, you really don't.

“I mean, if you could just let me take you to a hairstylist”, you say, lifting your hand to his face and brushing his hair to the side. “I really want to be able to look at your eyes while talking to you”, you joke.

“Ouch”, he puts his hand on his heart, pretending to be hurt. “I don't care what people say about me, okay? I only care about what you think”, he informs you, as if he didn't make that clear already.

“Are you sure?” You ask once more, giving him a chance to escape, even though you don't want him to.

“I am”, he nods, pulling you even closer and wrapping his arm around your waist. “So, can I have lunch with you from now on? And take you to and back from school? Hm?”

You nod, smiling happily.

“I'd love that”

You decide to let people talk, if Jisung doesn't care about it then neither will you, and let's say that after that conversation things just got hotter between you two.

Classrooms, cars, under the bleachers, the locker rooms, there's no place where your makeout sessions didn't reach. You just can't really behave yourself in his presence, when you two are alone you just have to touch each other and after that you just can't help what comes next.

Everyday. Before, between and after classes you're all over each other. You're covered in hickeys, your hair is always a mess and lipstick just won't last on your lips for long. Jisung is no better than you, the only difference is that he can hide the love bites more easily and his flustered face is less noticeable than yours.

You are both in his car trying to get to the restaurant before one of you yields and try to touch the other, when his phone rings.

“Hey”, he says, putting on speaker while he keeps driving.

“I’m sorry to call, I know you're on a date”, you hear Chan's tired voice on the other side of the line, “but my laptop died for whatever reason and the song we prepared to send tomorrow morning was there, I didn't have time to make a backup”, he sighs.

“We lost everything?” Han asks, panic in his voice.

“No, we have the unfinished version on Changbin's laptop but we lost what we worked on yesterday”, Chan explains and Han nods, even though his friend can't see him.

“Okay, yeah, I can go there and-”, he stops mid sentence, looking at you puzzled. “You are out of the city, right?” He asks Chan.

“Yes and Changbin has a test tomorrow, he won't be able to do it”

“Can I go to the studio with you?” You ask and Han nods, confused. “Then we are going to be there soon, Chan, don't worry”, you tell.

“Thank you”, Chan sighs, giving his goodbye and hanging up.

“Are you sure?” Jisung asks, watching you pick up your phone in your purse.

“Yeah”, you shrug, “we can have dinner in a fancy restaurant another time”, you say, calling the said restaurant so you can cancel your reservation.

Jisung watches you talking calmly with the restaurant, feeling grateful, you didn't have to be so understanding.

“Should we order some fried chicken?” You ask, after hanging up, “unfortunately they won't give us a refund”

“It's okay”, Jisung chuckles, “and I'd love fried chicken”

“To tell you the truth, fancy stuff is not my cup of tea”, you tell him, “I much rather have some chicken and beer”

“Well, my lady”, he smiles at you, “luckily for you I know a great place that sell exactly those things”

You watch Jisung work, he looks so professional while doing whatever he's doing. He's focused, a few strands of hair falling slightly over his eyes. His hands work fast, mixing, going back and forth and fixing different parts.

You sit there on the couch, waiting for him to finish. One, two, three hours go by. It's one in the morning when he sighs, closing the laptop and turning his chair towards you.

“Are you done?” You ask, hopeful and Jisung nods, standing up and walking to the couch, sitting comfortably on your side, resting his head on the back of the couch. Eyes closed trying to rest his eyes. “Did you make a backup?” You tease, watching him open his eyes slowly, turning his head to look at you.

“I did”, he chuckles, “and sent the backup to Changbin and Chan too”

“That's good”, you tell him, snuggling closer.

“Sorry that we didn't have a proper date”, he says.

“Don't be sorry. I think this is great”, you shrug, “I had good food and got to see you looking hot while working, that sounds like a win win for me”

Jisung laughs, shaking his head to your antics.

“Still, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you, just let me know”, he tells you.

That's when you realize Han Jisung doesn't know you at all, this man shouldn't give someone like you an opening like that.

“Oh, in that case”, you bite your bottom lip. “I have some ideas of how you can make it up to me”

You lean closer to him, face centimeters away from his.

“You could start with this”, you give him a peck on the lips, “and then you can go down here”, you kiss his jaw, going down to his neck, “then you can use your imagination here”, you suck on the skin that already has purple ish marks fading away.

“Is that right?” Eyes darkening, his hands land on your hips, pulling you closer.

“Mmn”, you agree with a shit eating grin on your face.

“And what about this?” He grabs your hips, bringing you to his lap. Your cheeks grow hotter, he's so much more bold than when you started seeing each other. “Do you like it?” He tilts his head, brows arched and a smirk on his lips.

“Where did the guy that freaked out about the thought of receiving nudes go?” You pout, you hate that he can so easily get you flustered.

Jisung throws his head back, chuckling while looking down on you. He tightens the grip on your hips, pressing your body closer to him. You can feel something hard beneath you and that doesn't help you at all, your face growing even more red.

“I had to change my approach when I realized you like to tease”, he brings his face closer to yours, “but you have no experience with being teased”, he smiles, seeing your breathing halt. You're cute.

He kisses you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer, rubbing your aching core on his hard on. You gasp, feeling the sudden stimulation but he keeps his lips on you, tongue brushing on yours slowly making you dizzy.

Jisung slides his hands to your thighs, pulling your skirt up so he can grab the flesh of your ass and squeeze it.

“Hannie”, you whisper, feeling his cock pressing against your clothed clit, making the knot in your lower stomach grow.

“Hm?” He asks, Jisung just loves when you use that nickname to call him. “Are you enjoying yourself, pretty?” He teases and you nod, moving your hips on your own, chasing your high.

You look at Jisung, brushing the strands of hair out of his eyes, biting on your lower lip before kissing him. You look so majestic riding him, he has no words so he tries to show you how turned on he is by kissing you with all the lust he has in himself. Hands on your hips forcing you closer to him, stimulating you more.

“I-I'm c-close”, you struggle to say, feeling all the heat spreading all over your body as you bend down and bite his shoulder to contain the loud moan you let out.

Jisung wraps his arms around your waist, snuggling his face into your neck and leaving kisses on your sweaty skin. You're kind of embarrassed, you didn't think you would be doing something like that in a place like here.

“Next time let me hear you, yeah?” He teases and you groan, slapping his arm.

“No, what if someone heard me?” You protest and he smiles, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“There's no one here at this hour”, he reassures you, “but anyone that ever heard you moaning should thank you, baby”, he gives a peck on your lips, biting your bottom lip.

“You didn't finish, right?” You sigh, closing your eyes to the feeling of his cock still hard as a rock beneath you.

“Don't worry about it”, he shrugs, “I got to make you cum, that's enough for me”, he smirks, too proud of himself but you have your own pride, no way you're going to let him see you like this and not do the same.

“Can I touch you?” You ask, getting out of his lap and comfortable by his side on the couch, waiting for his answer so you can unzip his pants.

“You don't need to feel obligated”, he says but clears his throat when you glare at him, “yeah, you can”

You waste no time, working on opening his pants and pulling his underwear down to see his painfully hard cock, he's bigger than you thought he would be. You feel your core throbbing once more, just thinking about how you're going to make him fit inside you, that won't be easy but you're sure you can manage.

You grab his length with your hand, making him jump and whine. ‘What a beautiful sound’, you think.

Your hand starts moving up and down and you watch as Jisung throws his head back, mouth open, low moans coming out and eyes closed as he approaches his orgasm. He looks so pretty like that, so you get closer, leaning over and kissing him. Jisung groans, thrusting his hips against your fist, making even more lewd noises while you just watch him, face so close you can feel his breath hitting on your skin.

When his movements start faltering, he can feel his release and in a moment later his hot cum is spreading all over your hand.

“Fuck”, he says, ears turning red instantly when he comes down of his high. “I usually take longer”, he explains nervously, making you chuckle.

“I didn't say anything”, you shrug, finding his anxious eyes too cute.

“I'm serious”, he pouts, zipping his pants back on.

“Me too”, you chuckle, “you took way longer than most guys do, there was a hot girl humping on you and you didn't cum, that's a feat in itself”, you tell him and he bites back a smile, you're such an idiot. But cute, definitely cute.

Jisung watches as you get up, looking for the bathroom so you can clean yourself and he finds himself smiling alone, thinking of you. What are you doing to him? And why does he not mind it at all?

It doesn't take long for Seunghoon to find out who's the guy you're going out with and he doesn't waste any time to come and find you, being the asshole he is.

You're having lunch with Mina and Miyeon when you feel that familiar arm on top of your shoulders, his scent is the same, so there's no mistaking it.

“You didn't tell me the guy you're seeing is Han Jisung”, Seunghoon’s snarky voice feels like a knife being thrown at you. You grab his arm, tossing away from you, his touch makes you sick.

“Didn't think I owed you a full report of who I'm dating now”, you say back, rolling your eyes.

“Well, I mean”, he sneers, “I thought your standards were higher”

You feel your face turning red, not from embarrassment, no, it's anger, the only reaction this man can get out of you now.

“Of course my standards are higher”, you take a deep breath, knowing very well that if you punch him in the face right now, he's going to win. “That's why I went for someone much better than you”, you roll your eyes.

“Please, in what world that guy is better than me?” He laughs and you can't help but chuckle.

“I sure could tell you all the things he's better than you, but I don't think people really need to know about how disappointing you are in bed and outside of it too”, you finish, standing up. “Ah”, you turn to him before you can walk away, “don't come looking for me again, Jisung can get very jealous”

Walking home you're foaming at the mouth, who does he think he is to talk about Jisung in that way? Oh, you really wish you could have beat the hell out of him, fucking bastard. Well, fuck him, you're better off without that prick and you hope you don't have to think about him ever again.

As soon as you get home, you hear voices inside your house coming to the conclusion that your parents are home, as if things couldn't get worse.

You take a deep breath before turning the knob to open the door, meeting uninterested looks when you walk by the kitchen.

“Why did you arrive so late?” Your mom asks, not really looking at you now, much more interested in her phone.

“I had practice”, you say, opening the fridge to grab an apple. You're hungry but if you have to eat with them you're sure you're gonna have indigestion.

“Shouldn't you be studying?” Your father accuses you. “Your brother is the best student in every one of his classes”

“Well if I had that many expensive tutors I would be the best too”, you mumble, receiving a raised brow from the older man. “I don't have any exams for the time being”, you sigh, excusing yourself but before you can cross the door out of the kitchen you hear your mom's voice.

“We are going to travel again tomorrow, we just came home to get some things”, you nod, that's nothing new.

Jisung is walking back and forth in the living room of his apartment, waiting anxiously for Chan and Changbin to be back from their morning workout session.

You didn't see it, but Jisung was there at the dining hall. He froze dead in his tracks the moment he saw Seunghoon sitting with you, all the worst case scenarios coming to his mind. Did you go back to him? You wouldn't, right?

It's true that you and Jisung don't have anything official yet, but it looked like you liked him, so even though his brain was having a field day telling him you never once enjoyed being with him, it's hard for him to actually believe you would put him aside just like that.

He can hear everything, Seunghoon isn't trying to be quiet and he's saying the exact things you were afraid Jisung would hear. He doesn't care about people talking shit about him, the only thing he cares about is what you think about him and the way you just straight away told off your ex’s makes Jisung proud of you, proud of being with you.

However, even though you don't mind all the talks and mean comments, he does. He doesn't want to harm your reputation or more importantly he doesn't want to hurt you. So Jisung made the decision to become someone better, he wants to be better for you. So when his friends open the front door, carrying their gym bags, they bump into a restless Jisung.

“Can you help me?” He asks, making Changbin and Chan look at each other and nod, sitting down with their youngest to talk.

It's been years since the three met each other and every once in a while they tried to convince Jisung to accept their advice so he could be more popular.

It was exhausting, really, Jisung only cared about music and finishing college. His routine was basically going from the studio to university to home. Work, study and sleep, those are the things he usually cares about. So it was nice seeing him going out, meeting you. He's been happier recently and it's nice for them to see him trying to improve himself for you even though they both doubted your intentions at first.

“What do you have in mind?” Chan asks.

“She- hm… she said my hair is too long?” He says, a bit embarrassed.

“We've been telling you this for months”, Changbin whines.

“Well, I think I should get a haircut and buy some new clothes”, Jisung huffs.

“Shouldn't you ask y/n to help you out with that? I'm sure she would love that”, Chan grins.

“I want to surprise her”, the younger one smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay, then”, Chan nods, “give us time to take a shower-”

“And eat”, Changbin adds.

“And eat, then we can go”, Chan laughs, standing up and walking to his room.

Jisung didn't talk much with you for two straight days, he only answered the texts you sent him and every time you asked if he wanted to meet, he said he had other plans. You started to worry that maybe word got out about your little scene with Seunghoon that day, maybe Jisung got the wrong idea about you socializing with your ex.

You didn't think you would miss him so much, but you kept checking your phone to see if he had texted you and waited until late at night for a call but it never came.

Maybe Jisung could see right through you, under this facade you put on. Maybe he doesn't want someone as lonely as you, someone who needs his warmth to keep going.

You try distracting yourself with anything, staying after practice to train a new routine. After killing some time, you store the things you used for practice and go out.

When you're closing the gymnasium, you feel a familiar presence close to you, making you turn around with a businesslike smile on your face.

“How can I help… you?” You choke on the air you just breathe. “Jisung?” You ask, speechless.

“The one and only”, he chuckles seeing your shocked face.

“What happened?” You even struggle to speak.

He's the same, but different? His hair is shorter, fixed in a nice hairstyle and his clothes are fitting him perfectly, like they were custom made.

“Do you not like it?” He asks, worried, hands patting his body trying to understand where it went wrong.

“No, no!” You blurt out, fast. “I like it, you look really good”, you don't actually have words to describe how delicious he looks, he already had you hot and bothered before, what are you going to do now? It's impossible to not want to jump his bones right this instant.

“Then?” He waits for you to continue, taking a step towards you, making you instantly take a step back. You're not sure if you'll be able to hold yourself back if he gets too close and you don't want the first time you fuck to be in the school's locker room.

“Why did you change?” You ask, trying to think more clearly.

“I'm trying to become boyfriend material for you”, he grabs your hand, holding it with his. “I even made social media accounts”, he smiles.

“But you were already perfect”, you whisper it slowly, brows knit together. Did you make him feel like he wasn't?

He sighs.

“I heard what your ex said that day”, he says, biting his bottom lip. “I don't want you going out of your way to shield me from mean comments, I want people to envy you for dating me, the same as there are dozens of guys that hate me because I got you”, he tilts his head, waiting for you to process what he just said.

“As long as you're not uncomfortable”, you say, trying to find any sign of hesitancy on his face.

“Not at all”, he tells you, “Chan and Binnie helped me buy nice clothes that are comfortable. Also, if I become more popular, It'll help 3racha”, he shrugs.

“Okay”, you nod nervously, not really knowing what to do next.

“Are you sure I look good?” He asks, playfully, seeing the way you're avoiding his eyes. Jisung takes a step closer, making you take a step back once more just for you to bump into the closed doors of the gymnasium. “Oh? Why do I get the feeling that you are thinking about running away?”

“Pff, me?” You scoff, “of course not”, you shake your head frantically.

He tsks, reaching for your waist and wrapping his arm around you.

“You know, a strong denial is like an affirmation in some cases.” Jisung says, bending down to your height, brushing his lips on yours but before you can lose yourself on his hold, you lift your hands pressing them against his chest and pushing him away.

“Can- can you not?” You huff, you can't believe you're even stuttering, you almost gave in. Almost.

You ended up giving in and it didn't take him much to convince you. Jisung was driving and you were anxiously waiting to arrive home, a cold shower and maybe a sex toy would do the trick. Everything was alright until he put his hand on your knee, sliding it up and down on your thigh. Did he get a new personality together with the makeover? He knows exactly what he's doing because he has that damn smirk plastered on his lips.

You didn't change from your cheer uniform since you had no energy and just wanted to get home to anxiously wait for Jisung's contact and now you regret it. It feels a thousand times more painful to have his hands touching the bare skin of your thighs. Each time that his hand comes up it gets closer to your core like he's testing the waters to see where you're willing to let him go.

What he still doesn't seem to know is that you're more than willing to let him go all the way and as soon as his hand gets too close to your throbbing core, you hold your breath as if that could do anything to help.

Jisung plays with the hem of your safety shorts without a care in the world, like he doesn't have you all turned on and your panties are not soaked.

“Stop the car”, you say through gritted teeth.

He glances at you before parking, making you want to rip that shit eating grin off of his face with a punch.

“What's wrong?” He asks cynically, unfastening his seatbelt to turn to you, his hand still caressing your thigh.

“You don't want to go there, Han Jisung”, you tell him, grabbing his arm to try and force his hand to stop touching you.

“Don't I?” He smiles, biting his bottom lip. You look so sexy saying his full name like that and he gets the urge to make you moan it. “I think I do”

“I hate you”, you groan, reaching to grab his collar and pulling him to you, making your mouths crash in a hungry kiss. You missed having him so close to you, his free hand cups your face and Jisung deepens the kiss, feeling your tongue caressing his so eagerly.

His other hand is working its way into your shorts, he's desperate to feel you on his fingers and as soon as he manages to get his hands under your panties, he can already feel your wetness leaking out of your sweet pussy.

“Shit”, he groans, disconnecting his lips from yours. “Are you usually this wet? Or is it just for me?” He asks shamelessly, making your whole face turn red.

You keep silent, trying to breathe normally again. It's embarrassing, how can someone provoke this kind of reaction out of you like this?

He chuckles, a dark deep chuckle while he slides his hand to your head to pull your hair.

“Cat got your tongue, pretty?” He asks, kissing you on the cheek at the same time as he places two fingers inside you, making you whimper. He pouts, tilting his head. “I'm sorry, you are so wet I thought you could handle two”

“Oh”, you feel your breathing out of pace and Jisung starts moving his fingers in and out of you. “J-jisung”, you moan, feeling his thumb circling around your clit. His fingers work fast, in and out of your hole, feeling you clenching around them. You're so tight, he can't wait to feel you around his cock.

His hair is all disheveled, pretty pink lips half open watching you becoming undone right in front of him. You want to stop him, you don't want to give him the satisfaction of ruining you so easily, but he's so handsome, his eyes are looking at you so deeply just waiting for you to come on his fingers.

The moment your whole body trembles, you close your eyes to the pleasure spreading all over you. You glare at him, panting and dizzy, seeing him take his fingers out of you and taking them straight to his mouth, licking them like a starved man.

“You taste as sweet as you look”, he tells you, fastening his seatbelt and starting the car again, driving back to the road like nothing happened.

“What about you?” You ask, seeing his obvious hard on.

“I think we had enough fun for today”, he glances at you, winking. It makes you sink in your seat, feeling your face turning red and the butterflies in your stomach. Jisung hopes you didn't realize that he would cum with a simple touch of yours, if he had your delicate hand around him one more time he wouldn't be able to last long, even less if he could feel your sweet lips on his cock, so he chose to avoid that embarrassment.

You feel excited from the moment you wake up and as a person who doesn't like waking up early that's a very difficult thing to achieve. But when you opened your eyes, groaning and exhausted, you picked up your phone to turn off the alarm just to find a few texts from Jisung saying he would be coming to pick you up.

That definitely left you excited, so you jumped out of the bed, grabbing a towel and running to the bathroom to take a quick shower. After finishing your bath, you get your hair done and choose the cutest clothes you have in your wardrobe.

The moment you go out, you see Jisung waiting for you outside of your house. He's looking good, leaning on his car with his hands in his pockets while he waits for you to walk to him.

“It should be illegal for someone to look this nice at this hour”, you try teasing him, to see if you can make him flustered.

“I was going to say the same”, he answers, checking you out, shamelessly and you are the one with a red face in the end, so you just give him a peck on the lips, trying to hide your embarrassment while getting into the car.

The ride to school is calm, you're nervously anticipating how people are going to act when they see you two, when they see Jisung.

Everyone stops to stare at you, at the same time as you want to hide from the prying eyes, you understand. Honestly, if you saw Han Jisung walking around looking like that you would stop to stare at him too.

He holds your hand, interlacing your fingers and leading you inside, a huge grin on his face, proud that he got the reaction he wanted. This was his plan, he wants you to show him off, he wants you to feel proud to be by his side and more than anything, he wants everyone to know you're his now.

He leaves you in your classroom, giving you a goodbye kiss and promising to find you later so you can have lunch together.

“Who was that?” Mina asks, mouth agape.

“That's Jisung”, you tell her proudly.

“Well, how did you work your magic so fast?” Miyeon asks.

“Will you believe it if I tell you I didn't do a thing?”

“I guess just dating you is enough to change a person”, Mina jokes, making you roll your eyes.

“Should I take that as a compliment?” You ask playfully and she chuckles.

“I guess you'll win the bet more easily than I thought”, she says, sighing, pretending to be disappointed.

“Actually, about that I-”, you fidget with your hands, it's not easy for you to give up and after what you just went through with Seunghoon you surely don't want to admit that what you have with Jisung is more than you could anticipate, it's something special. “I want to call it off, the bet”, you finally say, making your friends exchange glances, confused. “I don't want to play games with him”, you finish, sitting by Miyeon's side.

“Well, I didn't think you would give up so easily”, Mina laughs, “you're such a softie, y/n”

You smile, remembering about Jisung's hands on you earlier this morning, trying not to blush too much.

“I'll win the captain title again fair and square”, you tell Mina, stretching a hand to her so she can shake it. “And about Seunghoon, I don't really care about him anymore”, you shrug.

Mina shakes your hand back proudly, she can see something different in you now and she's happy that maybe you're seeing in yourself all the potential she's been trying to convince you that you have for all these years.

You feel a little bit jealous. Now Jisung can barely walk more than three meters without someone greeting or hitting on him, you're pouting during lunch, playing with your food while he goes on and on about 3racha’s new track.

“Are you listening?” He asks, tilting his head while looking at you.

“I am”, you nod, even though you could barely understand what he was saying.

“You're acting weird again”, he sighs, lifting his hand to your chin and pulling your face so you can look at him. “Talk to me”

“It's nothing”, you are the one sighing now, “I'm just being stupid”

“Tell me then, I'll be the judge of that”, he pushes.

“It's just-” you can't help but sulk while talking, “Those girls were clearly hitting on you earlier and you didn't do anything about it”, you whine, “I'm being stupid because I'm not even sure what I wanted you to do in that situation, even so, I'm still feeling bad and angry”

Jisung can't hold back the big smile that grows on his lips, he leans closer to your face, supporting his elbow on the table.

“Is my baby jealous?”, he asks playfully, with a cute voice, making you pout even harder, crossing your arms.

“Stop that, I'm not”, you say, feeling your cheeks burning because of the pet name.

“If you're not jealous, then can I go and get their numbers?” He tests, making you glare at him. Jisung laughs, embracing you in a hug and kissing the top of your head. “In all seriousness, I didn't even notice they were hitting on me. I was so focused on just answering their questions so I could get the hell out of their sight, I'm sorry I made you feel bad”, he clarifies.

You sigh, wrapping your arms around him and relaxing in his embrace.

“Don't apologize, I was being ridiculous”

Jisung breaths out, pulling away from your embrace and cupping your face with his hands. He stares at you for a few seconds, trying to use the right words to speak to you.

“You should definitely stop invalidating what you feel. What you feel is not ridiculous or stupid”, he gives a peck on your lips, brushing his nose on yours. “You can always tell me about your feelings, I'll always listen to you. So don't say things like that, alright?”

You want to cry, you want to smile, you want to hug him and never let go. So you snuggle in his embrace, nodding and mumbling about how he shouldn't get too close to other girls, making him smile while he kisses the top of your head. What did you do to deserve someone like him?

After finishing your lunch you two get up, carrying your trays back to their place and talking about what ice cream you should buy since you have a free afternoon. However, when you cross the doors to the dining hall, you bump directly into Seunghoon, causing a minute of awkward silence between you three. No apologies, just your ex staring at Jisung like he's trying to win a staring contest or something like that.

“Long time no see, y/n”, Seunghoon smiles to you, as if you didn't basically tell him to fuck off a few weeks ago. “I see you're accompanied, I'm Seunghoon, a friend of y/n”, he stretches his hand to shake Jisung's.

“I know who you are”, Jisung says, shaking the other man's hand. The hostility in the atmosphere is palpable but before you can excuse yourself, Seunghoon's voice is heard once more.

“Y/N promised that she would go on a double date with me and my girlfriend”, he recalls, “now that we are acquainted I feel like we can set a date”, he smiles and if you didn't know him you'd think he's genuinely interested in having a double date with friends.

“Sure, just let me know the day and time and we'll be there”, Jisung answers before you have the chance to deny.

You watch as Seunghoon chuckles, nodding and giving his goodbye. Your stomach sinking in, you have a bad feeling about this.

“What was that about?” You ask Jisung, brows knit together in confusion.

“What was what?”

“Don't play with me, Han Jisung”, you roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your chest and he sighs, biting on his bottom lip.

Jisung may or may not have regretted it the moment he accepted without checking with you first, but your ex just makes him so mad. The fact that he's not at least a bit apologetic about what he did to you just doesn't sit right with Jisung, how could he break your heart and nonchalantly show up in front of you asking for a double date with the girl he cheated on you with. Fuck him.

“I'm sorry”, Jisung sighs, sulking. “I should have checked with you but I just felt so angry”

You stare at him for a moment, sighing. That sucks, it seems you can't stay mad at him for too long.

“It's fine, I'm sure he would bother us until we accepted it”, you say, grabbing his arm to force him to carry on your walk. “Shall we go shopping for some couple outfits today?” You smile at him, that's going to be his punishment.

Or at least it should have been, so why does Jisung look so excited with every piece of clothing you try on? He looks very happy to buy things for him but not nearly as much as when he's watching you.

You ended up buying a couple's pajamas and for the date — that Seunghoon didn't lose any time scheduling for Friday — you got a bracelet with a pendant that resembles a ferris wheel, the place you two kissed for the first time.

“Shall we go to the amusement park again?” He asks, raising your hand high enough for him to look at the bracelet.

He sees your eyes shine to that simple mention and he smiles when you nod frantically.

“There were so many rides we didn't get to go because it was too crowded”, you say excitedly, “We have to go on the roller coaster”

“We do?” He chuckles nervously, “that thing is kinda scary”

“Of course we do!” You stop in your tracks, making him look at you. “I'll hold your hand the whole time, so you have nothing to worry about.”

You say, confidently and oddly enough, Jisung feels really reassured with your words.

“Oh, you're my knight in shining armor”, he sighs dramatically. “What would I do without you? Hm?”

He uses the hand he's holding to pull you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing your bodies against each other. Jisung gives you a peck on the lips, smiling when he sees you blushing.

“You better always keep me close to you”, you tell him, avoiding his eyes. “So I can protect you”

“Mmn”, he agrees, snuggling his face in the crock of your neck, “I'll keep you always in arm's length”

The dreadful Friday arrives too fast, when neither you or Jisung wanted it to come. You try not to think too much about the way you're dressed, you don't want your ex to think you dressed up for him. Jisung on the other hand, wants to look his best so Seunghoon can swallow back all the things he said about you, knowing that you did in fact find someone better.

“Ready?” He asks you when you get into the car.

“Can't we just stand them up?” You ask, hopeful, while fastening your seatbelt.

“Let's just stay for thirty minutes, then I can pretend I received a call and we have to go”, he grabs your hand and kisses it, “how does that sound?”

“Sounds good”, you nod, smiling at him. But that damn feeling that something just isn't right keeps bothering you.

Jisung drives slowly, trying to avoid the unavoidable. It should be fine, nothing is gonna go wrong, it's just anxiety trying to make him paranoid.

Seunghoon chose a fancy restaurant, Jisung is only used to going to places like that when he meets someone from the label, together with Chan and Changbin. He doesn't really like fancy places, he wanted to take you there on a date because he thought that was something you would like but in the end you're not into that either.

“I should probably tell you right now that this restaurant is where Seunghoon asked me to be his girlfriend”, you tell Jisung as soon as he parks in front of the place your double date is supposed to happen.

“What?” Jisung asks, confused.

“I didn't want to believe before we actually arrived but I knew I recognized that address when you showed it to me”, you explain. “I think he just wants to brag, he'll try to get under your skin for sure. Maybe he'll try to talk about the time we dated, that would be a dick move since his girlfriend is gonna be there but he is a dick so I don't expect less from him”, you start to ramble nervously.

“It's okay, you're with me now”, he reassures you one more time, grabbing your hand and squeezing it, “we are gonna go there, hear whatever he has to say and in thirty minutes we are out and we can even go to a real date just the two of us”, Jisung tilts his head waiting for your confirmation and you nod, leaning closer and kissing him.

“That sounds great, you are great”, you tell him

Awkward, stifling, suffocating. Those are the words that better describe how the dinner began on that night. Seunghoon was late but his girlfriend was already there so you had to awkwardly sit there with the girl your ex boyfriend cheated on you with. You are a good person and you don't want to cause a scene, especially because you don't really care about your ex anymore so you feel a bit grateful to this girl who took that bomb away from you.

“I liked your stunt on the last game”, she says, sheepishly while picking on her nails.

“Ah, yes. We worked for three months to come up with that one”, you answer, sipping on your cup of water and cursing Seunghoon in your mind. Where the hell is he?

Except that when Seunghoon waltzed inside the restaurant, you knew exactly why he was late. The look of utter disappointment on his face told you everything you needed to know, he wanted you two to fight over him. You wanna laugh. Did he really expect to come in late just to find his ex and current girlfriend grabbing each other by the hair or yelling at each other? What a fucking loser.

He probably didn't expect to see Jisung's arms wrapped around your waist, leaning so close to you or the whispers and giggles that were never common in your relationship with him.

“Where have you been?” His girlfriend asks while he sits down but he doesn't even look at her, eyes fixed on you and Jisung.

“Something happened”, he brushes off, vaguely. “Let's order?”

You and Jisung exchange confused looks, nodding to him.

“Oh, this is the place where we started dating, right?” Seunghoon asks, after the waiter takes your order, pretending like he didn't know about it when he set the date there.

“Yeah”, you sigh, eyeing Jisung, already knowing where your ex was trying to go with that.

“You loved the pasta here, why didn't you order that?” He asks and you glance at his girlfriend who's glaring at him.

“I didn't like the pasta, you did”, you sigh, feeling Jisung's pulling you a little closer to him, making you look at him to see the man smiling at you. You release the air you didn't even notice you were holding and you realize how stiff your whole body is, why does Seunghoon make you so nervous? It didn't feel this way the other day when you met him by yourself. It's just that you have the feeling that he has an ulterior motive to this dinner, other than just bragging about his new relationship.

He looks mad at your answer, even more mad because of how close Jisung is to you. You used to be like that with him, grasping at the slightest bit of affection he would give you. He thought you would come back to him eventually, Seunghoon thought you would forgive him, would depend on him once more so why didn't you? Why don't you need him anymore?

“I heard something funny”, he grabs everyone's attention suddenly. “Heard that you're only dating him because of a bet?” He sneers.

Your heart stops at that moment.

“What?” You ask, immediately turning to Jisung who looks frozen, staring at Seunghoon.

“Yeah, one of my friends heard the funniest conversation in one of his classes”, he laughs, “I’m sure you already know about it, right?” He asks Jisung, raising a brow in amusement.

Jisung starts to shake, he can't look at you, not right now. But he also can't let Seunghoon win, it would be too humiliating for the both of you.

“Yeah, I knew about it”, he lies, feeling the least bit satisfied with the annoyed groan Seunghoon lets out. “I think you should start treating your girl better rather than taking care of y/n’s relationship”, he finishes, standing up. “I lost my appetite, let's go”, Jisung tells you, stretching his hand so you can hold it but his eyes don't look into yours.

Jisung doesn't say a word to you until he parks in front of your house and you were too scared to start the conversation but when he kept quiet even after ten minutes, only staring at the wheel in his hands, you couldn't take it anymore.

“I know I should have told you before, I-”

“So he was telling the truth?” He looks at you for the first time in the last hour and you wish he didn't, the hurt in his eyes makes your chest feel like someone is squeezing your heart. “You are low”, he spits.

You feel tears brimming in your eyes, you know you deserve that but at the same time you could never have imagined him treating you this way.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry”, the tears start running down your face, “it started as a bet but I called it off, I swear” you try grabbing his hand so he can look at you but he snatches himself out of your grasp, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking outside. He's afraid he'll cry if he looks at you, he's scared he'll give in if he so much as glances at you.

“I need to think”, it's the only thing he says.

“Jisung, please, hear me out”, you plead once more but he doesn't look at you.

“I don't want to hear anything right now”, he tells you, stretching his body over yours to open your door, waiting for you to get out.

You step out of the car, glancing at him over and over, expecting him to change his mind but he doesn't and you watch as the car disappears far away on the road.

You only let yourself cry after closing the door to your room, even though there's no one else home, you still feel like you need to lock yourself up so you can feel anything.

You're such an idiot, you should have told him about the bet but it was something so meaningless that it didn't even cross your mind that you should come clean to him, in your head everything that mattered was that you liked him and that you called the bet off but you didn't take into consideration that he would feel hurt about that and that's what hurts the most.

You always talk about how Seunghoon did bad things to you, that he didn't have any regard towards you, but did you have any towards Jisung? You waltzed into his life, put him in the spotlight and made him open himself to you, but you couldn't take the time to think about how hurt he would feel if he found out about the circumstances that made you like him in the first place.

You feel guilty about everything, you wish you could turn back time and change everything but you can't, you can't go back and you can't make it up to him, you have to wait for him to forgive you or in the worst case scenario, for him to dump you and that hurts too much.

Jisung knew someone like you wouldn't like someone like him just because you thought he was cute, he knew that there was something behind your sweet words and harsh moves on him but he chose to ignore every signal, every flag and every warning his mind pointed out because he wanted to believe you. Jisung wanted to let himself like you, he wanted to be the one to protect you, the one whom you would call on every minor inconvenience you run into but in the end, he should have been the one being protected from you.

He can't believe he let himself fall for you, why would you even like him? At least he thought you did, he thought you felt happy when you were with him. Lies, everything was a huge lie and he wants to punch himself for letting you make a fool out of him like that.

A week goes by without news of Jisung, you see him walking through the school's corridors but you're too scared to approach him so you just watch as he keeps his routine everyday, like nothing happened, like you were never in his life.

Mina and Miyeon are making shifts to stay with you, if they don't you won't eat properly and you only sleep when the exhaustion is so much your body can't handle it anymore. You're scared he'll end things, but you're ready to beg if he tries too, you know Jisung is worth begging for.

On one of the rare moments you find yourself alone, you try to stay away from everyone else who are not your close friends. You're hiding in the building where Jisung has his classes, in hopes that you can see at least a glimpse of his face.

“Where have you been?” You hear an annoying voice right behind you, making you sigh while you turn around to see Seunghoon with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “You disappeared after our double date, did your new boyfriend really know about your bet?” He chuckles, making you want to punch him in the face. This is all his fault, if he didn't open his filthy mouth to say those things to Jisung you could have come clean to him and maybe this whole incident could have been avoided.

“Fuck you, Seunghoon”, you lose you composure, not really caring about winning this one, you just want to curse at him. “You cheated on me and then you tried to ruin my relationship and for what? Leave me the hell alone”, you spit out, walking past him but before you can go further you feel his grasp on your wrist, forcing you to turn around.

“You used to adore me, y/n, you were supposed to forget about everything and just stay with me so why did you rebel?”

“Oh, for fucks sake, I never ‘adored’ you, I just treated you like a good girlfriend should treat her boyfriend even though you have never done the same to me”, you try shaking your arm away from him but he doesn't let go. “I'm sick and tired of you, let go of me right now”, you pull your arm again with all your strength but he's grabbing you so strongly it's starting to hurt.

“Let's start over, yeah? I'll be good to you this time”, he asks, like he didn't hear anything you said.

“I have someone I really like now, nothing you do is gonna change that’, you groan, feeling your wrist sore. “I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore, just forget about me”

“Why do you always make everything so difficult-”, he tries to drag you away from the prying eyes who are starting to watch the scene unfolding, but you feel hands on your shoulders steadying you in place. Jisung walks in front of you, pushing Seunghoon and forcing him to let go of you.

“This doesn't concern you”, your ex says through gritted teeth.

“If it concerns y/n, it concerns me”, Jisung answers.

“Just because you got a little popular you think you can come up against me?” Seunghoon scoffs, coming closer to Jisung, challenging him.

“You're an idiot if you think you can just grab someone's girlfriend like that and don't get in trouble”, Jisung says, “if you have anything to discuss with her you can talk to me first”

“Don't be ridiculous, we can talk like grown ups. Right, y/n?” Seunghoon tries to come to you, but Jisung grabs him by the collar.

“Don't even fucking try”, Jisung glares at him, “if you get close to her one more time you're not gonna be able to play your next game”, he finishes, letting go of Seunghoon and pushing him away from you.

Seunghoon huffs and puffs but he knows he can't get into trouble if he wants to stay on the football team, so he curses you for the last time before turning around and walking away.

“Are you okay?” Jisung asks, looking around.

“Yeah, I'm fine”, you say, stepping closer to him but that's when you notice he's not looking at you and he's not even trying to hide that. “Thank you for helping me”, stepping back and stroking your wrist which hurts like hell. You want to cry but it's not from the pain coming from there, it's from the immeasurable ache coming from your chest.

“It's nothing”, he sighs, “try not to stay alone for now, you should stop coming here too”, he says, nodding to you before he's gone, walking away from you. Leaving you there, feeling empty.

“Should I be worried?” Chan asks Changbin, as soon as he sees the number of empty cans thrown in the center table in the living room. Jisung is seated on the floor looking at the TV but clearly not watching, he's just staring at it with an empty gaze.

“He's been like that since yesterday”, Changbin sighs, leaning over the kitchen counter while watching his younger friend open another can of beer. “You would have know if you had come back home”

“So, on the only night I sleep in my girlfriend's house, Han turns into an alcoholic?” Chan asks, ironically.

“He's been weird for a few days, I think he fought with y/n”, Changbin says, “I knew there was something going on.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“I tried, but he won't answer my questions or just sighs randomly while I'm talking”

“I'll try talking to him”, Chan says, looking at his friend who just shrugs, going back to wash the dishes.

The older one gets closer slowly, sitting on the couch and looking at Jisung for a moment, trying to see if he'll acknowledge his presence but it doesn't happen, the younger one doesn't even move.

“Hey, are you alright?” Chan asks, but there's no answer to his question. “Look, you know you can talk to us about anything, right?” He tries again, but still receives no answer, so he snatches Jisung's beer out of his hand, receiving a frustrated grunt from his friend.

“Give it back”, Jisung finally lets out.

“Talk to me”, Chan pleads.

“There's nothing to talk about”, Jisung shrugs. He should end things with you, even if it hurts, that's what he should do, right?

“Clearly there's something going on”, Chan says, “I won't leave you alone until you talk and you know I can be really annoying when I want to”

Jisung sighs, he knows that very well.

“She only asked me out because of a bet”, Jisung says, “y/n, I mean”

Chan sucks through his teeth, that's not a nice thing to do. But he can't really judge her when he did something similar when he started seeing his girlfriend, so he'll have to play devil's advocate this time.

“She ended things with you then? Because the bet is over or something like that?” He tries to push to know a bit more.

“No, her ex told me”, Jisung says, continuing when Chan frowns in confusion, “he was trying to get under my skin so we would fight”

“What about y/n?”

“She said she called it off and that she likes me”, he chuckles, “I don't believe her”

“Why not?” Chan asks, still confused. “Look, Han, what she did is shitty, okay? That's not open for discussion, but why are you doubting that she likes you? Shouldn't she use this opportunity to get out of this relationship now that you found out about the bet? Why would she lie about it? It doesn't make sense”, Chan points out.

“Why would someone like her like someone like me? I'm no one”, Jisung cries out, he knows Chan is right but he just can't let himself fall for your trap again, he can't handle it if you break his heart a second time.

“Now you're only letting your self doubt talk, what do you mean you're no one?” Chan sighs, “you're a great friend, you're smart and you're part of 3racha, you're talented as hell, Binnie and I would be nothing without you”, Chan says.

“Yeah, but she's so wonderful”, Jisung sighs, “she's kind and smart, she's funny and cute, she's the prettiest girl I have ever got to know”

“Did she ever tell you that you weren't those things too?”

“No”, the younger one looks at Chan with puppy eyes. “But still, why would she make a bet to date me if I wasn't a loser?”

“You should ask her that yourself”, Chan shrugs. “You know I did some questionable things to date my girl and I'm not proud of that, but I love her with all my heart. In the end, maybe what's important is what's on her heart right now and not when it started”

When you receive Jisung's text telling you he wants to meet up, you feel relieved. He's finally gonna talk to you but at the same time you feel anxious, he's very vague about what you're going to talk about so you can't ignore the possibility of him ending things.

You set the date in your house, you don't want to go to a public place just to end up a crying mess in front of everyone there. So you wait patiently until Jisung arrives, you bite all your nails, clean everything that can be cleaned even though it's already impeccable, you do anything that can ease your anxiety and make you less nervous.

Three knocks on the door make you jump from the couch, running to the entrance and opening the door in a fast swing.

You missed Jisung's face, his round cheeks look smaller than the last time you saw him and the eyebags under his eyes are huge. You are no different from that, you know you lost weight since your cheer uniform is big on you and you're breaking out in pimples because of the stress.

“Hi”, you say, awkwardly, giving space for him to enter.

“Hey”, he answers, waiting for you to guide him to wherever you want to talk.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Should you have offered? It's something you always do when you have guests.

“I'm good”, he answers again. “Can we cut to the chase?” He turns to you, arms crossed in front of his chest. That doesn't sound good, he doesn't look like he forgave you.

“Yeah”, you nod, bracing yourself for what's to come.

“Was everything a lie?” Jisung asks, biting his bottom lip. “Was anything you ever said real?”

“Yes it was, almost everything”, you take a step closer to him but he takes a step back, not ready to be so close to you yet. “Everything started as a bet, I wanted to make someone better than Seunghoon so I could make him jealous”, you sigh, feeling like an idiot.

“It was your idea?” He asks, staring at you.

“No, it was not my idea but I accepted it anyway”, you shake your head. “I know it's stupid, I know it is. But I fell in love with you and when I realized I didn't want to hurt you I called the bet off”, you explain.

“And when was that?”

“Three weeks ago”

He sighs, walking around for a minute, trying to think.

“How am I supposed to trust you now?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to rationalize, trying to find an excuse for you, so he can forgive you.

“You are-”, a sob leaves your lips as soon as you start talking, tears running down your cheeks, you didn't even notice you were crying. “You're the first person who ever showed me what love really is”, you try to explain.

“So, do you like me or do you like the way I make you feel?” He whispers, eyes pleading for your answer to not destroy the little bit of hope he still has on you.

“I like y- I love you”, you try holding his hands once more. “I never thought I could love someone the way I love you, Jisung. I love everything about you, I sleep thinking about you and I wake up thinking about you. When I'm eating something nice I always ask myself if you already ate or if you would like what I'm having. When I'm out having fun I always wish you were there with me. Whenever we go to different classes I miss you immediately and I count every second so I can see you again”, you squeeze his hand. “I’m not asking for you to forgive me right now but please don't leave me, please stay with me”, you plead, feeling the tears running down your face.

Jisung's heart breaks from listening to your cries and sobs, he wants to save his pride and leave you for good. But he can't, Jisung is so in love with you right now that even the thought of staying away from you hurts much more than how he hurt because of what you did.

So he kisses you, his hands cup your face as usual, like nothing ever happened, like you never stayed apart. You missed his warmth, his lips, his hands on your body, everything.

“I missed you”, you tell him, wrapping your arms around his waist, ready to never let go again.

“I missed you too”, he sighs, “and I love you too”

“I'm so sorry, I swear I'll never do anything to hurt you ever again”, you grasp his shirt, bringing him even closer to you.

He knows he shouldn't feel reassured by your promise, how could he? But he does, he's just stupid but that's the effect you have on him.

You sit together and you tell him everything. Why you started a bet and why you chose him, when you started to like him and why you didn't tell him about the whole situation before.

You also talk about how terrible it was for the both of you to stay apart for so long, how you were ready to beg him to forgive you and that made him laugh, that's something he could never imagine you doing.

In the end you're both exhausted. Days without sleeping properly finally come back to bite the both of you on the ass so you invite Jisung to stay over, needing to stay close to him more than usual. You two stare at each other for a moment while laying down together, you can't even believe he forgave you and that he's there with you.

Jisung brushes off the strands of hair falling over your eyes, caressing your cheek before leaning closer to kiss you for the last time before the both of you give in to the deep slumber that's waiting.

“I love you”, he whispers when you close your eyes, making you smile like an idiot.

“I love you too”, you say back to him, letting yourself fall into unconsciousness.

When the light coming through the windows hits your eyes, you start waking up, slowly trying to look around just to see a sleepy Jisung with his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He looks pretty even when he's sleeping, pouting a bit while he breathes quietly.

You can't hold yourself, so you lean closer giving a peck on his cheek.

“Hannie, wake up”, you whisper seeing his eyes flutter and his pout grows bigger.

“Just five more minutes”, he asks, pulling you even closer to him.

You sigh, deciding to let him sleep but when you try to get up the hold he has on your waist gets stronger.

“Where are you going?” He asks, opening his eyes.

“I was going to make some breakfast”, you say, watching him shaking his head and snuggling closer to you.

“No, I don't wanna. Stay here with me”, he whines.

“But what are we gonna eat?”

“We can order something”, he kisses your cheek, trailing kisses to your mouth and then to your neck, biting and sucking on the skin making you giggle and squirm in his embrace.

Jisung chuckles, kissing you. It's a slow, familiar kiss, one of his hands cupping your face and the other holds your waist pulling you closer. You put your hand on his hip, trying to find stability because you feel dizzy with his scent and his lips on you.

He parts the kiss so you both can breathe, but he keeps landing pecks on your jaw, neck and collarbone. His hands land on the rem of your shirt, he looks at you waiting for your permission and you nod, watching as he instantly pulls the piece of fabric out of you. Jisung bites his lower lip, staring down at your breasts, you look so beautiful he thinks that maybe he died and went to heaven.

The man leans closer, licking on your hard nipples, making you suck through your teeth, feeling his hot breath hit on your cold skin.

“Fuck”, you mutter when he bites lightly on the spot. Jisung chuckles, feeling your hands grabbing on his arms and your nails gripping on his skin. He keeps going down, leaving warm and wet kisses down your stomach, finding the waistband of your pajama pants and giving a kiss on both the sides of your hips before pulling the piece of clothing down.

He stares at your panties for a moment, it has bees printed on it and that makes him laugh.

“Do you like bees that much?” He asks, pulling the fabric down while he watches you squirm in embarrassment. You didn't think you'd have sex first thing in the morning so you didn't bother changing to something more sexy. You slap the palm of your hands in front of your eyes, covering your face. “You're cute”, he says, pulling your underwear down and kissing your right knee, then the left, “and so pretty.” You take one of your hands out of your eyes just to see Jisung staring right to your core. He's getting comfortable on the bed, positioning your legs over his shoulders while he grabs your hips with his hands to keep you in place.

Jisung doesn't lose time, kissing the inside of your thighs before licking your pussy, a long and wet strand that makes you immediately want to close your legs but his hands won't let you move. He slides one of his hands in between your legs, pressing a digit over your clit and then inserting the same finger inside you. Jisung sucks on your clit, circling the bud with his tongue while you stare at him, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth with so much strength it could draw blood.

“I can't get enough of your taste”, he says, using his free hand to clean around his mouth, licking his fingers soon after. “Can you handle another finger, baby?” He asks, cockily while you throw your head back, nodding frantically.

Jisung inserts a second finger, going back to suck on your sweet pussy, he feels like he could cum just by eating you out. His hip starts moving by itself while he searches for some friction, humping on the bed.

“Sungie”, you let out, hands landing on his head while you pull it closer to your cunt. “I'm close”, you squirm, feeling his tongue working faster and his fingers reaching places you never could. The knot on your stomach keeps growing until you feel like seeing stars, your legs shake uncontrollably and you moan loudly, eyes screwed shut.

Jisung groans, satisfied, it's so good to feel you cumming in his mouth, he could stay between your legs forever.

He trails kisses back to you, kissing your lips with such hunger you're not sure where it's coming from. You can feel your taste in his mouth and that only adds to the arousal you are still feeling even after an orgasm.

You look at his swollen lips and disheveled hair, thinking he's the prettiest man you have ever seen in your entire life. Your hands go to the rem of his shirt and in a swift move, you get it out of him, staring at his upper body like someone starved. You smirk, pushing him down so you can lean over him, doing the same as he did to you and trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, chest and stomach, until you see the path to your happiness. You pull his pants down, underwear going together, his hard cock springs hitting on his stomach, the head leaking with pre-cum, making you lick your lips, salivating just with the thought of all of that in your mouth.

You look at Jisung, he's waiting patiently for you to do something, anything and you like the feeling of having him in that place, wanting to be satisfied by you. You lean over, licking at his shaft from the base to the head before putting everything inside your mouth.

You can't feet all of him, so you grab the base stroking it up and down on the parts your mouth can't reach.

“Oh my god”, you hear his whimper, smiling to yourself because you're the one provoking that reaction out of him. You keep sucking on his cock, looking at him, Jisung has his head thrown back, lips slightly apart but he struggles to keep watching you, the image of you sucking on him is just too much for him, you're just too sexy, he can't handle it.

Jisung can feel his release approaching, he taps on your shoulder trying to catch your attention while you're so concentrated in sucking him off.

“I'm gonna cum”, he manages to let out but rather than stopping, you suck him even harder and stroking his cock with more resolution. In a moment you feel his hot cum spreading all over your mouth, making you smile while you swallow everything, opening your mouth and showing your tongue to him.

You come closer to him, kissing him the same as he did to you and he can feel his taste on your tongue.

“Fuck, you're so hot”, he says as soon as he splits the kiss between the two of you.

“It's all for you”, you whisper, leaning close to his ear. Jisung smiles, you're going to make him go insane.

“Do you have any condoms?” He asks, hastily, grabbing you by the hips and making you sit on his lap. You nod, leaning over the nightstand to open the drawer, showing him the package.

“But I'm on birth control”, you tell him, blushing. You never asked to be fucked raw before, you and your ex always used protection even though he protested a lot about it. “I'm clean, I got tested after I found out about the cheating”, you complete. It would be embarrassing if Jisung refused but it doesn't hurt to ask. All you want is to feel his cock inside you.

“A-are you sure?” He asks, correcting himself when you tilt your head in confusion, brows knit together. “I mean, are you sure about not using protection?” He completes and you nod.

“I trust you”, you kiss the tip of his nose, making his heart flutter. Just the thought of fucking you raw managed to make his semi erection turns into a full hard on in a second.

“Okay”, he nods, throwing the package away while he sits down. Jisung gives a few strokes on his cock before you position yourself over him, he puts the tip on your entrance holding his breath as soon as he feels your wet walls around him. “Shit, you're so tight”, his hands land on your hips, helping you go down on his length.

It hurts a little, he's bigger than average so the burning sensation is not surprising to you, even though you were well prepared it still is an intrusion.

“You're the one who's big”, you tell him, biting on his shoulder as soon as you manage to fit all of him inside of you. You stay still for a moment, catching your breath. When your hips start moving it feels so good, it's almost indescribable, the amount of places he can reach is ridiculous, you want to have his cock inside of you all day.

Your pussy is just so good, Jisung can't help gripping your hips more tightly, encouraging you to move faster. He thrusts his hips against you, spitting on his fingers and sliding his hand down to your clit, making circles there while he watches you riding him with your eyes closed shut, feeling your high closer and closer. He's no different, your flattering walls squeezing him are too much for him, he feels like he can cum anytime now.

Jisung kisses you, feeling you moan loudly against his lips, you grip his shoulder burying your nails on his skin and that only makes him crazier. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, going deeper inside of you. You throw your head back, not able to hold in any longer. Your moans are music to Jisung's ears, he's sure he can cum just by hearing you so it's no surprise when he reaches his orgasm, shooting his seed inside you.

“Fuck”, he groans, movements faltering. You watch as he leans on you, head resting on your chest. That's what's necessary for you to cum and you are almost not able to breathe normally after the intensity of that orgasm.

Jisung helps you lie down on the bed, getting comfortable by your side while he snuggles himself close to you.

“I love you”, that's what he says, looking at you with loving eyes and there's nothing more running through his mind other than how much he loves you.

“I love you too”, you giggle happily, giving a peck on his lips. “I'll need a whole day to recover from this, though”, you tease.

“What do you mean? You better be ready for another round”, he answers, smiling and kissing you. You better brace yourself.

[End]

———

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

Taglist: @rockstrhanji @angelsquid @feelikecinderella @realrintaro @bomi-ja @sasiiidumpling @itshannjisung @whyisaah @weareapackofstrays @kkamismom12 @soonie1010 @bberymi @minleemin @ayejaii

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ellavatorz · 1 year

Text

Kiss me Plenty || c.b. x reader

summary: you play the “I can’t stop kissing you,” prank on colby.

tags/cw: implied smut, kisses (lots of ‘em), tooth-rotting sweet fluff, established relationship, youtuber(s) relationship.

a/n: there isn’t much for me to say except that I have a very strong yearn for colby to be kissed 24/7. if that man isn’t being kissed at every second of the day like he deserves, then the world is a cruel joke of a place.

and a huge thank you to everyone who enjoyed my last work, you guys are so sweet T.T happy holidays!

- - -

You have the camera set up first thing in the morning. It’s hidden out of visible-sight and is focused on Colby’s usual spot; his desk, where he normally films intros to videos amongst other tasks in respect to his shared channel with Sam.

The plot of your video to be filmed today is explained to your audience. All while a grin is spread on your lips. “Today’s goal is to annoy the shit out of Colby by kissing the hell out of him. I don’t know how he’ll react considering he’s hyper-affectionate as it is… but its also normally something he does rather than me initiating it. So maybe he’ll suspect something right off the bat? Who knows!”

By the time Colby has migrated from your shared bed to his desk, you’re just outside the door, anxiously prepared for whatever may come of the situation. Without much of an extravagant entrance, you move toward where he is and stand behind him. His eyes are glued to the screen and you pretend to seem intrigued by whatever it is he’s looking at.

A yawn escapes his mouth as he reaches an arm behind himself, subconsciously searching for any part of you to grasp onto and reel in. “Good morning, baby.” He rasps, last night’s rest still grappling at his body.

“Morning,” you reply, allowing him to pull you closer. You take this as an advantage to wrap your arms around his shoulders from where you now stand beside him. “What are you working on today?”

Colby’s gaze is still caught on the screen when his own arm is snaked around your waist. His eyes flicker from one end to another, clearly focused on whatever he’s reading. “Just emails right now. I have a bit of review and editing tasks to get done on the apparel website too..”

“Ah, I see.” You sigh. Your eyes flash a mischievous glint toward the camera before you begin leaning into his space to plant a soft peck to his cheek. “Do you need anything? Water? Snacks?”

Still enraptured by work, he acknowledges your question half-heartedly. “No, love. Thank you though.”

You feign a frown at his response and begin swaying his chair left to right when the hold on your waist is replaced by the computer’s mouse. He scrolls through several pages, reading what he can manage to as you continue rocking his chair.

“What time do you think you’ll be done?” You question innocently, though you both are aware that his work is capable of enveloping the entirety of his day. He shrugs, too focused to respond. You take this as an opportunity to leave a kiss on the crown of his head, moving behind his chair to loosely circle your arms around his neck. “I think I’m gonna finish my Christmas shopping while you’re still here.”

He hums and it’s evident that he isn’t regarding your presence to the full extent that it’s normally at. You huff and lean over his shoulder to litter butterfly-light kisses along the side of his neck. He unconsciously cranes his neck, providing you with more access to the skin.

“Shouldn’t you come and eat breakfast first? You haven’t eaten anything.” You ponder aloud, and this time, he shakes his head.

“I’m fine, babe.“ he mutters, eyes squinting in the analysis of his emails. Your tongue comes out to swipe at your lips, wetting them before leaning further into his space and kissing him straight on the mouth. At this, he cocks his head to the side, granting you access for more.

You continue to press into him, feeling accomplished when you realize that now he’s fully focused on you. The kiss is languid and feels good enough to praise, but before you can fully enjoy it, Colby is pulling away with a pitiful smile. You don’t even have to question him because he’s apologizing in an instant.

“I’m sorry, petal. I really have to get these things done. I promise as soon as I get this out of the way, I’m all yours.” He says and you can’t help but feel a tug at your heart. God, he really is the cutest. With the way his eyes glimmer at you, you’re confident with the idea that this man could un-alive your childhood pet and get away with it by just looking at you with those damned ocean eyes.

“Just a minute more?” shaking off the thought of ending the video early out of awe for your boyfriend, you continue your antics. You plead instead, batting your lashes tauntingly while returning to his side.

He blinks owlishly at you and ultimately accepts, pulling you into his lap by the hips and allowing you to straddle him comfortably. You grin, wasting no time and diving straight in for a passionate kiss. His hands snake around you to land on your ass, giving a gentle squeeze to which you groan into his lips for.

For a second, you’re convinced that this moment would last for an eternity with the pace that he’s taking. Theres not a doubt that he’d absolutely waste an entire day just to kiss you, and in this case you want this to be one of those days. His kiss is smooth, gentle, yet fierce and meaningful. Your hands move on their own accord; one pressing into the broad of his chest and the other entangling into his hair.

There’s a moan serenading your ears after a few rough tugs to the strands on his head. However, before you know it, he’s giving you one last playful tug to your lip and placing a good space between the two of you. While you’re grateful for this moment to breathe, you also fall clueless as to why the hell he stopped.. until, of course, you remember that you’re filming a video, and he’s working. Hello!

“Do you know how distracting you can be?” Colby chuckles, and you take a few seconds to take in his appearance; hair tussled, eyes dark and dilated, lips swollen with a few teeth indentations caused due to your own accord. You almost want to spend the rest of the video admiring your work, but conclude that the show must go on.

“What ever do you mean, coleslaw?” You quip, pushing against his hands from where they’ve been placed on your shoulders to distance you from him.

He immediately motions for you to get off of him, his hands already shoving at your chest. “Coleslaw? You’re done. Get off of me.”

You laugh and reluctantly remove yourself from his lap only to make an attempt at lifting him up with you. As if knowing exactly what you’re about to do, he drops his weight into his chair. You grunt, tugging on his arms with all your might. He doesn’t budge.

“Baby,” you whine, and add a childish stomp for emphasis. “Can’t you just take today off to spend time with me? Please?”

He falls limp at your words, tossing his head back against the chair’s headrest and huffs in thought. “We already hung out yesterday. The entire day! What do you want to do anyway?”

Pouting, you take advantage of his loose posture to throne his lap once more. Again, circling his neck with your arms and trying to pull him impossibly closer. Though, he does his best to keep a stoic expression and an emotional stiffness to prevent persuasion.

“I miss you,” the words seemingly fall on deaf ears as he remains unfazed, eyes wandering around the room; in other words, anywhere but you. “..just wanted to kiss you today.. but i guess you don’t want my kisses. guess I’ll just find someone else who does—“

His sigh mimics one of defeat. His hold on your tightens in protectiveness, as if afraid you may be taken from him. You begin to feel that bubble of mischief rising to your cheeks, tugging your lips into a smile. Yes! It’s working!

“One more kiss, and i seriously have to get back to work, okay?” He gambles, and suddenly your smile is fading into a frown. He directs his stare back to you, a small quirk at the corner of his mouth. “What, isn’t that what you want? Take it or leave it, baby.”

You bare your teeth in grimace, eyes twinkling with competitiveness before you dive in. Planting your lips on his, you nip and lap at the opening he gives you. Without much hesitance, he’s reciprocating in eagerness. Your tongues dance in the heat of the moment, teeth clashing with force. It’s clear how much you two want each other. And it’s even more evident just how far you’re willing to go for it.

“God, what’s gotten into you?” He manages to slur through the daze you’ve entrapped him in. The intimacy in the kiss exceeds even deeper when you apply pressure against his crotch, gaining a desperate reaction in return. He whimpers against your lips, bringing you impossibly closer to his form as he ruts against you.

“just.. really.. want.. you.” Your voice tapers off into a moan with each breath you take in between. And that’s when you realize. Oh shit. he’s hard.

A probing feeling at your clothed entrance is all it takes for you to pull back and freeze, hands instantly darting for the camera from where it was hidden just a few minutes ago. You focus the rest of the footage toward you, regarding your boyfriend’s lustful daze as a sign to come clean. Placing one hand on his cheek while the other holds the camera, you give a breathy and worried giggle.

“Are you—“ you start, motioning toward the evident tent in his sweats. His eyes waver from your face for a mere second to assess the situation before returning to you. “Colby?”

“Is this is a prank?” He mumbles, cocking his head toward the camera in your hand. You nod, curtaining your smile by placing a palm over your mouth. “Oh,”

“Colby, It’s a prank. I didn’t expect it to go this far!” You admit, and suddenly the giddiness you had been shielding from escaping you throughout the video is released. You laugh in embarrassment. “Oh my gosh. Guys, if you saw anything…. No you didn’t. Haha! But seriously, my poor baby suffered today so if you enjoyed the video, be sure to like and subscribe. Until next time, bye!”

The moment the video comes to an end, Colby is cursing you up and down for the scheme you had hidden from him. However, his scolding shortly concludes with a soft, and admittedly disappointing, “—had me all excited..”

“Oh my poor baby,” you coo, both of you now free from an audience’s presence via camera. Holding his face in your hands, you apply pressure to his cheeks, forcing his lips to pucker when you go in for a gentle kiss. “‘M sorry. The fans really wanted to see what you’d do.”

“Well now they know, so can we please not do that again. you’re very irresistible and convincing you know that?”

You press a gentle peck to his cheek and huff. “Yeah I’ve heard it a few times from my boyfriend.”

“Wow. I feel bad for your boyfriend.” Colby jokes playfully.

“Do you? Hm. Guess I should be a little nicer to him.”

“Maybe.” He pouts his lips toward you, proceeding to lift you from where the two of you sit on his office chair. Your legs wrap around his middle as he travels toward your shared bed. “I think your boyfriend deserves it.”

“I think so too,” you smile. Continuing from where you had left off, you both spend the rest of the morning doing exactly as you begged for; spending the day together. And making out, of course. And maybe a little more than that.

#colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock x you #colby brock blurb #colby brock

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mikeysbabygirl · 9 months

Text

𝑻𝒐𝒌𝒚𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑯𝒄'𝒔

Warning : you read it pretty well. NSFW. Which means minors do not INTERRACT.

Ft : Rindou, inupi

𝙍𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙪 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙞 :

Perfect boyfriend, right ?

You'll never run out of playlists to listen to with Rindou as boyfriend.

Cold ? He's got about ten hoodies that he likes seeing on you, hanging lose on your thighs, would spray them of his own fragrance after washing them just to know you have his perfume on you wherever you are.

I'm getting at the main point which is...

The jealousy of this man is vice.

As you know, Rindou is a man of few words. Your boyfriend would never tell you straight forward that he is jealous, or have a healthy, honest conversation with you.

He would rather...

Why did he introduced you to Haruchiyo at first ? He should have known that guy would always go out of his ways to make him mad. Just like he was doing now, brushing his lips every now and then against your cheeks as he tells you jokes that Rindou thinks really do not deserve such overdone laughs from you.

The uncomfortable feeling makes his chest tingle, yet Rindou would rather die than admit it to you. But don't you think he would forget, this guy is like a ticking clock, registering every little thing you do for the right time.

In the mean time, you would never get to see Haruchiyo again. Nor any other Tenjiku member.

Rindou really thinks he loves you. Though he still holds that grudge, he can't help but driving you home from school every evening, can't help but think about you randomly during the day, or at night when he's fucking that fist on a pretty nude from you.

But he's registering, and he secretly hoped you would not make any other "mistake", but you do.

You were having so much fun tonight, and if Rindou was anyone else, he would have felt guilty.

But he is Rindou fucking Haitani, and he warned you. These days, Tokyo, at night was not one of the safest places, Kanto Manji was having some troubles with an opponent gang. Would you have been any other girl he dated, he wouldn't have cared. But again, you're so more than that.

He thinks you're so pretty, so eyecatchy. As always, your eyes are the shiniest, and when you spot him from the other end of the club, making his way toward where you're dancing with your friends, they widen the slightest.

He is not the type to embarrass you in front of your friends or anything, believe me.

Close your eyes, imagine this.

The crowd, the dancing bodies, and everything disappears as soon as his lips brush against your cheeks. His blonde locks tickle your neck, and his hands too gently lays on the small of your back. Rindou's fragrance invades your nostrils as much as his deep voice does with your ear.

-" have it your way, love. 'm just gonna sit here and wait for ya. Just be sure you're ready for whatever I got for you. "

Then, just as if it was a dream, his touch flies away, as much as his perfume which lingered a little longer behind him, reminding you just how fucked up you are.

From the other end of the club, your boyfriend looks... Devilishly handsome, first buttons of his white shirt are undone, hair slightly messy, you could almost see his bloodshot eyes from afar watching every move you make. At some point, you're pretty sure you've seen those pretty lips smirk.

This is where I'm getting at, my next main point.

The most important thing I could say as a nsfw fact about Rindou, is his relentless dominance.

He is, the perfect boyfriend from outside. The most protective, caring lover you could ever dream of.

Perfect boyfriend, has his hands around your neck, his tie wrapped tightly around your wrists, that purple gaze usually soft for you looks like it could kill you right now.

-" I'm sorry- Rin', move please, I'm so... So, so fucking sorry, just move " moving your core to chase some friction doesn't even work, he's hell bent on making you cockwarm him all the night, watching you slightly struggling to breath with his hand on your throat.

Usually, he is a man of few words mainly because he is a good listener, especially when you are talking. But tonight, he doesn't even care to hear a word you're saying. He dives deep in the feeling of your pussy wrapped up around him, an expressionless face while he presses kisses on every damn inch of your face and neck.

You both know that these kiss also aren't meant for reassuring, just because he can't seem to get enough of you.

The cold metal of his rings tightens slightly around your throat, having your eyes widening, a groan leaves his mouth so much your doe eyes make his cock throb.

-" Love the way you're taking me. Got me goddamn obsessed. "

Just because you're his own little addiction, just because your walls clench tighter around him at his words, he rolls his hips the slightest bit, making your eyes roll back in your head.

-" You look just as good as a Haitani's wife, laying all pretty under daddy, hugging my dick like my lil pillow princess ".

Because that is what he had wanted to make you, and no matter how independent you are, there is no other way being around Rindou. He lived to mold you into his perfect girl, no way of taking the lead, a simple sharp glance from him makes your heart drop.

Best Tenjiku boyfriend, they say. Yes, he is. So caring, always so much...

And the smirks, small laughs from that pretty face seeing the pain mixing with pleasure on your face are the proof. The perfect, most sadistic boyfriend. Giving a sharp, rough thrust inside you so suddenly that it had you crying his name, balls rubbing against your abused clit.

-" cry all you want " he crooked an eyebrow. "Your screams only got me wanna ruin this pussy. Ain't it the best way to make sure my baby's gonna behave ?"

-" Hm ? Say, love ?"

-" What a man gotta do to protect his best fucking girl, nah ?"

𝑰𝒏𝒖𝒊 𝑺𝒆𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒖 :

What a sweet guy, he is sugar coated, honey dripping.

You two could have met after a kinda hard time of your life, you were lacking a lot of trust in people in general and particularly in men.

But Seishu was so soft with you, so careful and fair-play that you ended up trusting him with your life, going around everywhere calling him your...

Your best friend.

Maybe he hadn't been perfectly fair-play into that last one... But he swears he had wanted to be your best friend, at a time.

It was just about how your hands moved around your face as you talked with excitement, about your teeth flashing and eyes sparkling with every smile you reserved only for him. It was about your scent lingering in his t-shirts after hours of hugging him from behind on night rides on his bike, the scent he never truly wanted to wash.

And soon, he started noticing his eagerness to have his hands lingering on you ( what was honestly foreign for Seishu), began feeling the need to find hidden meanings in the books you recommended him, and being even more protective toward you than usual.

Now Seishu would never disrespect you, or your will. If you wanted him as a best friend, then he would take what you had to give him. He would rather suffer that way than lose you at all, believe me, for someone who experienced loneliness, he would rather not go through your absence.

And so it goes, the play starts, he puts the mask, some make up on the ugly unwanted feelings, carries your shopping bags for you, helps you chose your outfit of the day, listen to all your stories about you how much of a loser your ex was, and kisses your cheek goodbye right before turning his back, dropping the mask, and untying his lacerated heart.

But deep inside, Seishu Inui is not as sugar coated as you think he is. Seishu Inui wished he was as innocent, honest with you as you thought he was, but he was not, and the first time you discovered it was...

-" You're my best friend, Sei. It's pouring outside, no need to argue, no bike. you're staying the night. "

It's too late now, you fell asleep, and he should've known, not even a king size bed could've prevented this from happening.

Your ( his) shirt was riding your hips, the covers sliding lower, the cold weather pushed you closer to his heat radiating body. A sigh escaped your lips, just as a beat escaped from his heart as you trapped his leg between your thighs, unconsciously laying your head on his arm.

Picture this, Seishu's blonde hair sprayed on your pillows, his flushed face, sleepy eyes, not moving an inch, frozen.

Or maybe just an inch, just to get into a more comfortable position-

But the friction his leg brought between your thighs had you knitting your eyebrows, a small gasp leaving your lips, something to awaken few things in Seishu.

As the respectful man he is, Seishu tries pushing your thighs away, but that only adds to that friction. And now he has you in your sleep, unconsciously rubbing yourself against him, he thinks he lost it.

Your t-shirts hangs on your waist now, Seishu hates the way his abdomen contracts seeing your bare lower half. And you're wearing nothing but your cute white panties, thus making him feel every move of your clit against his thigh.

He hates himself, and you would probably hate him too, but he swore he saw your eyelashes fluttering at some time, as you desperately chased more friction, and that convinced him to bounce his thigh harder against your clothed cunt.

-" Fuck... " He swears he's gonna stop, but he freezes the moment he hears a broken whisper.

-" Sei- ?"

Your interrogating eyes feel like a stab in the chest, Seishu would bend the knee, apologize until the end of the world, but-

But it seems your little dry humping made you unleash all of the restraints, you roll on your side and find yourself on top of him, legs on each side of his waist.

Seishu's just so pretty, mouth agape, the blue of his eyes is a meer ring around those pupils dilated from pleasure, you think he's gonna push you away. But some god must have been generous enough to give him that chance, he'd be damned to let it go. His hands find your bare hips.

-" You sure 'bout this ? " He hesitantly whispers, though his dick throbs crazy in his sweatpants, he would never neglect your needs. " Just a word, pretty girl. Just a word and I'm giving you all of my fucking love. "

From now on, Seishu solely believed that good things come to those who wait for it. Since after months and months of running from the shadow of his feelings for you, now his eyes were in bliss, swallowing every inch of you sinking on every inch of his hard cock.

Now now, Inui is a gentleman, a respectful, harmless guy.

But with your walls so tightly wrapped around him, he can't help but buckle his hips harder to meet your thrusts, can't help but grab your tits, kneading the flesh in his hands until he had you crying from pleasure and pain. Yes, Seishu is such a sweet guy, he solely believes this behavior is only what months of frustration have made of him.

And his best friend, Kokonoi had already told you once, though you didn't believed it " Seishu can be blunt sometimes ". Another thing you were yet to discover.

Those pretty lips that usually talked so nicely to you, those words that comforted you through your worst times seemed to get trapped behind the pleasure ravaging his lower half, because-

-" gotta slightest idea what you do to me ?" He thrusts his hips once again, circularly, giving particular attention to your clit. " How many times your slutty little skirts made my cock hard ?"

It drives him crazy, how your eyes widen innocently at his statement, meanwhile your pussy clenches in such a sultry around him. Intoxicating. You never knew you'd like those dirty words from the softest man you've known.

-" Pretty girl got me fucking my fist nearly every night. Shit- can feel you close, you like it dontcha ? My gorgeous baby, that's everything you truly ever wanted, right ? Having me fucking obsessed ? Pushing me to my damn limits ? Uh-"

But Seishu Inui is a dirty talker, behind closed doors, Seishu Inui is a hard groper, a carelessly harsh fucker, a sweet lover. Seishu Inui is the perfect mix.

Does anyone even remember who I am ?

Yeah I'm back, I guess ?

Hi everyone 🫶 Hope y'all doing fine and all, wassup ?

#tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers spoilers #bonten x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers angst #rindou haitani x reader #rindou haitani #rindou x y/n #haitani rindou #haitani brothers #seishu inui #seishu inui x reader #inui x you #inui x reader #tr inui

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shawnxstyles · 9 months

Text

panty stealer 2

DATE: JULY 12, 2023

summary: after the forbidden and surprising night of the ‘break-in’, you couldn’t get your mind off of peter. luckily, he couldn’t either, and finds his way back into your bedroom to invite you to a party.

requested: so many times yes!

words: 11.2k!! woah

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, slight oral, masturbation, vibrator], praise kink, degrading kink, slight exhibitionism, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, mentions of marjuana/alcohol, and fluff

note: this was the most anticipated and loved of all my writings! i’m so thankful for everyone who liked part 1, i just had to write a part 2. enjoy!!! sorry if the gif is all weird again

—

so many thoughts flew through peter’s mind as he swung through the streets of massachusetts: what homework or projects he might have, you, class, praying flash doesn’t do anything stupid while he’s gone, you, hoping ned doesn’t have a panic attack from flash’s idiocy, and you you you.

he thought of your body and the way it felt underneath him while he pushed himself deep inside of you. and the whimpers you let out as you came. and the sound of your laughter through the palm of your hand. and the smile on your face as he kissed your forehead. he wished he had kissed you longer. he wished he had stayed longer. forever.

was that dramatic? maybe.

you were a recurring thought that never seemed to cease from his brain.

peter sees you around school sometimes—only on the days you two have class together. neither of you made an effort to approach the other, almost as if you expected the other person to do it first. you both sat far apart from each other, too afraid to move seats around and make it obvious. but peter’s gaze fell heavily over your shoulder too many times for you to not feel it.

every time you shifted around to face the back of the room, you watched him avert his wandering eyes to anywhere but you. it made you smile and giggle quietly behind your hand, and of course peter’s hearing picked up on the angelic sounds, causing his heart to skip against his ribs.

and then class would begin and you’d have to wait until next class to see him again.

peter wanted to go see you—talk to you. he really did. but he was so busy with school work and being spider-man that he didn’t have a night off. mid-terms were coming up, but that also meant thanksgiving break was in the rear view mirror. after halloween of course.

in college, halloween was like any other day. you didn’t get a day off to trick-or-treat and hang out with your friends. instead, you were given a pile of tests the week before.

not much of a treat, huh?

outside of college, however, people threw the best parties that night. one of those people obviously being peter. luckily, halloween was on a saturday, so everyone would be done with mid-terms and ready to party their asses off.

flash needed everyone and their mom to come for him to be satisfied (well, maybe not their moms). he’s going to blow up everyone’s phone telling them to invite every person they know. peter didn’t care who showed up. he knows that halloween is one of the biggest parties of the year (besides fourth of july). peter only wanted—no needed—one person to be there.

—

knowing it’s been weeks since he’s seen you and the party was only in a few days, peter had to come and see you. he had to make sure you got the invite. it was difficult to fit visiting you into his schedule, but like always, he made it work.

you were becoming important to him, a priority.

he would only be in and out because who knows what would happen if peter was caught in there? last time, flash got his car hit with a baseball bat. flash was so mad that he completely forgot about peter’s dare, even though it was the whole point of sneaking into the house. it was deserved, but peter didn’t want any of that happening to him. so, peter promised himself no funny business unless you were in his room.

ugh, but peter really didn’t want you around the frat boys. they were way too much.

the sky was pitch black besides the hint of stars that were sprinkled in the sky. it was a chilly, fall night that made peter want to cozy up and pass out in his bed. but he had more important things to do first.

after a boring night of patrol, peter sneaks into his room through his opened window. without making too much noise (unlike flash), he quietly changes out of his suit and packs it into his closet in a box labeled books. peter is certain that no one, especially flash, would ever open that box. so he fixes his appearance by adjusting his shirt in the mirror, checking his teeth, and messing with his wild hair. on impulse, he throws on a cap to better hide himself. with that, he jumps out his window once again, shutting it closed on his way down with his sticky fingers.

like he’s done once before, peter sneaks across the street to the forbidden sorority house. he stares at the windows; all darkened bedrooms, except for one. peter wasn’t one hundred percent sure that that single lit bedroom was yours, but he was willing to test his luck.

for you.

peering at his surroundings, peter flips his hat backwards and slowly crawls up the side of the house. his fingers latch onto the windowsill as he very slowly lifts his head over it. he notices that it’s slightly cracked open before his gaze is seering through the glass.

you have got to be fucking joking.

your body lays sprawled across your bed as a delicate hand wanders between your parted legs and slides your infamous panties to the side. your torso is covered in the same mit t-shirt from that night, draped over your lavish figure tantalizingly. a laptop plays a pornographic scene of some sort, headphones plugged in one ear.

god, he wanted to touch you so bad.

he wondered if you were thinking of him. recalling how his fingers caressed down your body and how they touched every inch of your skin. but you couldn’t be, right? it’s been weeks and peter hasn’t made a move. you’ve probably moved on from that night like nothing happened. peter should probably go, leave you alone during such an intimate time—

“mm, peter,” your angelic voice hums a quiet moan that was only loud enough for peter’s hearing. peter feels his cock twitch needily at your noises, hissing to himself as you whimper his name. “feels so good.”

well, that’s just like a goddamn invite.

using every skill he has learned from being spider-man, peter yanks open the window and creeps inside. you were too emerged in your fantasies; eyes screwed closed as you listened attentively to the ongoing video. you failed to notice peter’s looming presence over your bed, even with only one headphone in. your noises continued, spurring peter’s next actions on.

without saying a word, peter lays his hand over yours, which is rubbing cute circles over your clit. your movements freeze and your eyes fly open. your mind doesn’t register the sight before you, so your breathing stops and your lungs get ready to scream out every millimeter of oxygen in you. but peter slips his other hand over your mouth before you could alert the entire neighborhood of his presence.

peter could sense the erratic beating of your heart as your tense muscles very gradually soften once you realize it’s him. once you’ve calmed down enough to not scream, you take your free hand and lower peter’s from your mouth.

he came back.

“p-peter, i didn't know you were coming,” you weren't sure what to say. your mind was still spinning like a top toy and your heart was beating like a galloping horse. your skin was burning underneath him, full of embarrassment and immense desire. “a head’s up would have been nice…”

“i’m sorry for the interruption…” peter says, eyes dragging down your body. his hand moves above yours gradually. you inhale sharply as peter guides your hand.

“you don’t seem sorry,” you retaliate as the friction from your hand with the help of peter’s begins to rile your body up again. you feel the wetness seep from your cunt, aching and needy for more. for more of him.

“how come you’re so wet?” peter completely ignores you, and removes your hand from your pussy with a gentle toss. peter didn’t expect anything tonight, but he especially didn’t expect to find his little angel with her hands between her legs. you gasp when his fingers are directly touching you, instantly clenching around nothing. his fingers are a bit chilly, in contrast to your flamy skin. “is it from the video?”

“n-no,” you stutter between needy pants as his fingers threaten to sink into your pulsing hole. your legs spread wider for him, inviting him closer to you. you slam the laptop down with shaky fingers to show him that you no longer need it.

“then what’s got you so wet?” two fingers dip into your cunt to persuade you to talk, but it’s doing the opposite. you bite your lip to hide the traitorous moan that threatens to escape. heavy arousal coats your labia while he pumps in and out of you easily, waiting for an answer.

“i was thinking of you,” you admit, hips rolling into his touch greedily. “wondering if you’d ever come back.”

peter’s heart saddens at the thought of you waiting for him. this whole time peter assumed you forgot about him, when in reality, it was the exact opposite. and there was sticky evidence to prove it.

“i’m right here, angel. what were you thinking about?” his body leans down hovering over yours, causing your body to sink into the mattress.

“thought about you climbing through the window, just like you did. imagined you’d fuck me, like you promised,” you moan quietly between words, trying to sound cohesive. hearing you say such vulgar words has peter’s cock twitching in his pants. with peter, you weren’t afraid to be straight to the point and tell him what you want. peter admired that, and would probably do anything you asked him to.

“with time, i’m a man of my word, baby.”

close and personal, peter interlocks his lips with yours. your frolicking hands drift to his warm neck, caressing the nape as you melt into him. peter inserts a third finger into you, eliciting a muffled moan against his lips. the action opens up your mouth and allows peter to effortlessly glide his tongue inside.

his fingers ram into you at a deliriously fast pace, causing your mind to haze into a euphoric state. it was impressive how peter could be kissing you unforgettably, but also skillfully pleasuring you with his hands. peter seemed like a man full of secrets and skills that you were dying to know.

who is peter parker?

fogging up your mind, your muscles tense and your back continues to arch until your stomach is touching his. your legs threaten to close from the overwhelming pleasure from his fingers, but you battle to keep them wide. his mouth trails down your neck and attacks the sensitive skin below your ear. teeth digging into your lip, you withhold all of your noises that peter so desperately wants to hear.

“if we were alone, you wouldn’t be allowed to be quiet,” he husks in your ear before trailing further down your neck. his voice was every level of attractive, pushing you closer to the edge. peter continued to check off all of your invisible boxes of turn ons.

“i know,” your voice was delicate and strained, and peter could tell you were close.

your walls gripped his fingers eagerly, and your stomach tightened up. it was embarrassing that you were so close so fast, but you couldn’t hold it any longer. once his fingers curled one last time inside of you, you were a goner.

“come for me, baby,” he demanded quietly, so you did.

your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, drenched in blissful euphoria. peter worked you through your high by softly rubbing your legs and coaxing every last drop out of you until you were sensitive to the touch.

without having to ask, peter lowers himself to your mound and yanks your panties down and off your legs. he then cleans up your mess with his skillful tongue, licking and slurping all of your juices. your sensitivity causes you to be squirmy, but he’s done before you know it and then you’re left reminiscing.

although he was right in front of you, you missed his touch already. you missed him inside of you because it made you feel connected, intertwined. you didn’t want him to leave you again for weeks and come back on a random week day. or even worse, never again at all. you hoped that it didn’t become a pattern because you were getting attached to him, whether you liked it or not (you did), and that wasn’t a healthy pattern to be attached to.

peter’s body hovers over yours once again, held up by his muscular arms. your eyes attach to every detail on his face, admiring and memorizing his features in fear that he’ll leave again. he gazes at you like a living daydream, ethereal underneath him. one of his hands caresses your supple cheek, lightly swiping away your frisky hair. you practically purr into his touch, melting at his gentleness.

“peter,” you start, voice as fragile as thin glass.

“y/n.”

“please, don’t leave,” you insist in a whisper, hoping he’d stay. but you know he can’t.

“you know i can’t,” he says as you begin to sit up. see?

“when will i see you again? you can’t just… show up at any time,” you huff, sitting up straight as peter takes a seat beside you.

“i know i know…” peter thinks for a moment before reaching into his pocket. “here. you can put your number in my phone.”

your heart skips a simple beat. you extend your arm to snatch your phone on your nightstand before hesitatingly grabbing peter’s. you switch devices and enter your numbers. you label your name as ‘y/n :)’ and then you trade back phones, but don’t look at them.

“c’mere,” peter says and you curl your body into his. his warmth was addicting and cozy, and could easily make a great pillow for the future. “i’m sorry for not coming back sooner. i’ve been pretty busy with… everything i guess. i should’ve told you.” with your head cradled in his chest, he kisses your rumpled hair genuinely.

a sweet apology. could he get any better? is he just a figment of my imagination?

you lift up your head so you could see him looking down on you. “apology accepted, parker. but i feel like i’m being manipulated with your kisses.”

“how was i supposed to know you’re a sucker for forehead kisses?”

“everyone is a sucker for forehead kisses!” you whisper yell causing him to laugh wholeheartedly as quiet as possible. he kisses your head a few more times, making your heart full of affection and care.

how did you get lucky enough for peter parker to fall into your life? or more specifically, break into your house on two accounts?

“you never fulfilled your promise,” you said, referring to him having sex with you. don’t misunderstand, you were very grateful for what he gave you, but to be direct… you were greedy, needy, and missed his dick.

no time for beating around the bush.

“like i said, with time, i’m a man of my word,” which, in other words, means he’s not having sex with you. tonight, at least. you can’t help the small frown that appears on your lips.

“how much time? a girl has needs, you know,” you rose your eyebrows and pointed towards the closed laptop. peter puffed under his breath, causing you to smirk.

“there is a party this saturday… at my place. you should come,” peter informs.

“should i come or do you want me to come?” it was a test.

“if this is some sexual innuendo, yes—”

“jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, peter!” you roll your eyes and softly shove his chest, but a smile never ceases from your face. that only causes him to wrap his arms around you and squeeze you harder against his firm body.

he must live at the gym.

“you started talking about sex first!”

he’s not wrong.

“of course, i want you to come to the party, y/n,” peter smiles as his eyes wandering over every inch of your face. in any other scenario, gorging eyes would’ve made you feel insecure, but peter’s made you feel all flushed and tingly. “you’re the only person i want to be there.”

your smile enlarges even more and a rush of heat crawls up your neck. instead of kissing his lips for being such a romantic goofball, you decide to pull off his backward cap and kiss his forehead. the rosy blush that cascades his pale cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed.

“see! everyone likes forehead kisses!”

just as you say those words, peter hears footsteps padding across the hallway. he really didn’t want to leave you again, but he also really didn’t want to get caught. he sighs and you notice his change of demeanor, causing another frown to arise on your lips.

“you have to go, don’t you?”

“i’m sorry—”

“it’s okay. i’m glad you came. i’ll see you on saturday,” you smile genuinely and kiss his forehead again. he smiles, but catches your luscious lips instead. peter almost forgot about the footsteps, always lost in the moment with you.

he is obsessed with kissing you.

however, the moment is too short for both of your liking. peter struggles to pull himself away from you, but does because each footstep in the hallway is like a warning. with a finally kiss to your forehead, peter smiles endearingly before approaching your window, ready to jump out.

“oh, and peter?” as his hands are on the window, he turns around to look at you. “don’t forget these.”

you fling your panties at him and his quick reflexes have no problem catching them. you take his hat that he left on your bed and lay it on top of your head. peter cannot describe the fond feeling that bubbles up in his chest at the sight of you in his apparel. he’s sure he would die seeing you in his clothes if he’s starstruck from you in his cap.

a familiar heated flush blossoms on his cheeks as he lightly shakes his head with a few chuckles.

“you’re ridiculously cute,” is the last thing he says before he slides out the window and jumps down onto the ground.

ridiculously cute. you’ve never been called that before. are you surprised that you like it a lot? nope.

you still don’t understand how he doesn’t break a few limbs from jumping out of a two-story house, but again, that’s just one of the many things he’s skillful at. you wondered what else he was capable of. like you said, he seemed like a man full of secrets. some people thought of curiosity as a curse, but you saw it as a pathway to unknown opportunities.

not even a minute after peter left, there’s a knock at your bedroom door. you answer, skeptical, and one of your friends walks in.

“i know we’re not allowed to have any guys here, so you get kind of lonely, but when you’re watching porn at midnight can you please turn it down? i could hear it at the end of the hall,” she rubs her eyes and elicits a yawn. your eyes widen and you swallow thickly at the idea of the entire house hearing you.

you really thought you did a good job at being quiet…

“uh, yeah, sure thing,” you half smile as you apologize and wish her a better goodnight. you flick your lamp off and shift comfortably on your bed.

you gaze at the ceiling and imagine peter’s face above yours. you envisioned his lips, his cute nose, and each precious beauty mark on his face. it was easier to fall asleep knowing what his phone number was, and that saturday was only three days away.

—

those three days could not have been longer. the party was your motivation to wake up every day and go to class, eager as ever. you only saw peter once at school and that was not enough to satisfy the yearning you had inside of you. that yearning was also like an alarm clock that sprung you out of bed at eight a.m. on saturday.

you knew you had hours to waste, so you did all the things you had been procrastinating on: laundry, tidying up, few assignments due next week, and you even dusted parts of the house. yeah, you were that bored.

you weren’t sure what time the party started, but you would probably be able to tell from your window. you had no idea what you were going to wear even though you were thinking about it since wednesday. you believed you had a good sense of style, at least to your liking, but you don’t have all the clothes that you wish you had. living on a college budget wasn’t easy, but you made do.

at this point, it was only two in the afternoon, and you were about to run into the wall until your head was bleeding just to waste more time. this was the downside to having a ridiculously big crush on someone; the inescapable waiting. when crushing, time seems prolonged when you’re without them. but when you’re with them, the world seems to stop completely. it’s like nothing matters but just you two.

you remembered back to wednesday when peter was sitting on your bed and holding you snug against his body while you talked about such a mundane thing like a party invite. you could never erase the feeling of his kiss, his lips forever etched onto yours. the kiss felt like hours, but it was merely a minute before he had to pull away. you imagined what it would be like to just be with him without worrying about anything else. these daydreams cause the yearning in your chest to expand like a balloon, which is never going to satisfyingly explode until you’re in his arms again.

without making a big deal out of it, you needed a good outfit. so, you knocked on one of your “sister’s” doors. you weren’t a fan of the term “sorority sisters,” especially because none of these girls felt like sisters to you. yes, you were all decent friends who went to parties and went out to eat once a month together. but you weren’t as close to them as you were with your friends back at home. you missed them, but you’ve all moved on with your lives.

violet answers with a cheery come in and you walk into her room. you hint that you’re looking for a nice dress for the party tonight.

“i’m glad you came to me first,” she smiles as she stands up from her bed. she heads toward her closet, which is practically pouring out clothes that would laugh at yours. she had so many colors and choices, it was almost overwhelming and you weren’t even the one really choosing. “so. who’s the guy?”

“what? who said anything about a guy?”

“the fact that you want a nice dress for a frat party. you’ve never cared before, so it has to be a guy. so who is it?”

“it’s no one in particular,” you lie easily as you sit on her bed. she sifts through each dress in deep thought.

“so, you want a nice dress to catch any guy’s attention? i don’t buy it,” violet shakes her head, causing her long, black hair to wave.

not that you really care if she believes you, but what’s a believable lie? you know she’ll probably nag you about it the entire night if you don’t give her a valid excuse.

“if i’m being honest, i’m trying to, you know,” you raise your eyebrows high, motioning your hands as she whips around to face you. she nods as a knowing smirk grows on her lips. you weren’t technically lying–you did want to get laid, but you only had one person in mind that could do the job.

“i see. that’s all you needed to say,” she flips through more dresses before pulling out a short red one that makes your eyes widen. it looked nice, too nice, and you didn’t want to ruin anything she had because you’d probably spend the next few months paying to replace it. “let’s get you ready.”

“but the party is in–”

“nuh uh, we’re getting ready now. also, we’re making it into a costume.”

–

for once, you’re glad you listened to violet about getting ready early because it was already six o’clock by the time you guys were both finished. you somehow gave in to the idea of her dolling you up into some kind of sexy spider woman? you didn’t really know. she thought the red and blue accented your skin nicely. violet did what she wanted. you didn’t even plan on wearing a costume in the first place, so you didn’t really mind.

your hair was down and wavy. you had her short red dress on and white fishnet tights. she also gave you royal blue heels. she painted black webs on your eyes with eyeliner while you wore a matching red lipstick. it was a lot more than you expected to see on yourself when you looked in her vanity mirror. hopefully, the look is as attractive and alluring as violet says it is. meanwhile, violet dressed as “slutty catwoman” (her words, not yours).

and yes, violet was going. everyone at mit would be going. it was one of those annual parties that's been going on for years, even before your class was there.

you enjoyed that; traditions and routines. they created memories and showed the change through each generation. thinking back, you bet your ancestors would die of a heart attack if they saw the way you were dressed and the things people did at these parties. but none of those thoughts stopped you from leaving the sorority house and walking across the street to the frat party.

you hadn’t even walked in yet, and the music was booming throughout the neighborhood. through the blinds that failed to close, you could see the technicolor lights flashing in redirection. cars of every shade were parked for probably miles down the street, and you knew as the night went on the number of people would only increase.

violet walked in front of you, strutting through the door like she owned the place. you followed behind her almost cowardly, but you weren’t really looking for everyone’s attention anyway. just one.

however, you forgot that the whole reason violet believed you were wearing this dress in the first place was for that exact reason. so, when she realized your shyness, she turned around and shook all your nerves out of you. literally. she shook your shoulders until you were woozy and nearly stumbling over your heels (you are now wishing you wore sneakers). it was like you were already tipsy by the time she was done.

she dragged you towards the kitchen without any words, seeming as though you wouldn’t be able to hear them over the blaring music and loud chatter. bottles of liquor decorated the marble countertop along with blue and red solo cups, trashed like a 90’s high school movie. violet grabbed the first bottle she saw, pouring the dark liquid into a cup she somehow snagged.

“your turn,” she shoves the bottle and cup towards your body as a stranger bumps into you from the back. the place was getting packed, making it hard to find anywhere to breathe. “some liquid courage.”

“i’m okay. i will later, though,” you rejected, not liking the idea of being drunk when you had a goal in mind. by the end of the night, you really wanted to be in peter’s bed. but you hated the idea of being drunk while having sex, especially when you wanted to enjoy it. you only indulged in drunk sex when you really needed to get off and one; didn’t want to remember what happened, or second; didn’t want it to last longer than that night. mostly the latter.

you know what it feels like to be with peter, and you craved to feel like that again. just thinking about him made you feel a thousand different kinds of wonderful; heart racing, stomach swirling, core burning. you knew the second you found him it would be hard to keep your hands away.

–

peter finally decides to shuffle down his stairs for the first time tonight. when the roaring music began an hour ago, he knew the party had, too, but he didn’t feel like going down yet. he couldn’t help but peek out his blinds in his bedroom, waiting to see you crossing the street.

he swears he was in his bedroom for at least an hour, occasionally peeking out the window, impatiently waiting for your arrival. with a slight frown on his face, he realizes that you might not be coming.

why would you?

peter assumed that you just now noticed how creepy it was for him to sneak into your bedroom. twice. maybe all your smiles and kisses were just silent pleads to make him leave the room faster. but your laugh seemed so genuine, and the sweet, little noises that you muffled under your palms were from real pleasure. right?

you were moaning his name.

he imagined you strutting across the street in a jaw-dropping dress, one that would send him into a frenzy. but you would be too humble and would shrug it off like you were the most average person on earth. peter would scoff and take you into his arms and drag you up into his room. then he would admire you until you believed you were the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen.

open mouth kisses etched on your naked body. bites and pinches of tease. your sweet hums and delicately broken moans. nails clawing into his tough skin greedily. his voice guiding and praising you while yours is disheveled in pleasure.

god, he’s so in his head. he’s so far gone. and he barely knows you.

like a daydreaming idiot, he slaps the side of his head a few times to get his brain back into reality. he stares at his appearance in the mirror, silently motivating himself to have a good night whether or not you show up.

taking a deep breath, he finally exits his bedroom. of course, the music is booming and the place is already as crowded as a concert. peter trails down the stairs, but stops midway when he sees the top of your head.

is that you? how did he miss you?

moving swiftly down the steps, he weaves his way through the crowd, his fake glasses nearly slipping down his face. multiple people try to stop and chat with him, but he doesn’t indulge for long, having a clear destination in mind.

but, just when he reaches the kitchen, you’re gone.

he swears he just saw you. maybe he’s going crazy.

releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, peter pushes through a few more bodies before reaching the sliding glass door. he squeezed himself outside and inhales. when you’re in a house full of sweaty, drunk people smoking weed, you become more grateful for the fresh air.

he removes his glasses and tucks them into his neckline. his eyes gaze at the backyard’s minuscule decorations, and then to the sky. he stares at the stars as they wink at him, reassuring that everything will be alright. he wishes that the town won’t need saving tonight and that everyone will be on their best behavior. he hopes that you’ll come to the party, even if it doesn’t end with you in his arms.

even though that’s all he really wants.

“peter?” a voice speaks, and the sound was so elegant and soft that he thought the stars themselves were talking to him. he forces himself to blink a few times before spinning around to face you.

he nearly faints when he sees your costume.

short red dress, white tights, blue heels, black webs. you were dressed as spider-man, or spider girl, and you looked absolutely fucking stunning. you would be the death of peter. seriously, he thinks he might pass out from lust and admiration looking at you. you were just so drop-dead gorgeous, he couldn’t believe it.

maybe the stars were on his side tonight. unless they wanted to kill him…

“are you okay?” your soft voice of concern walks straight up to him, delicate hand resting on his shoulder.

“y-yeah,” peter stutters before coughing. is it surprising that he’s already half hard? a small blush cascades his pale cheeks. “you look… really fucking good.”

there’s no dancing around it.

now, familiar heat warms your neck, cheeks, and ears at his compliment. his voice was low, so only you could hear it over the screaming music, and it was laced with a small growl that had your stomach flipping. your hand fell from his shoulder.

“thanks,” you couldn’t think of what else to say, but then you looked at his outfit, which was little to none. actually, he was wearing normal clothes. peter was probably the only person at the party without a costume. “i guess i had to go all out since you decided not to wear anything. it’s your party and you didn’t think to dress up?”

peter laughs, breaking any invisible tension that might have been there. god, you loved his laugh. it was so childlike and full of joy, that you couldn’t help but smile.

“i have a costume. hold on,” peter puts on his glasses.

“if you say you’re a hot nerd—”

“nuh uh, i’m a super hot nerd,” he then rips the buttons off half of his flannel, presenting the superman symbol on his chest. rolling your eyes, it was your turn to laugh. your hand covers your face at his silliness as you lean against the nearby wall for support.

“you’re such an idiot.”

“i can’t be a nerd and an idiot, angel.”

“somehow, you make it work,” you both chuckle with huge smiles on your faces, unable to look away from each other.

“hey, dickwad,” flash abruptly appears from the sliding glass door that you two were standing by. he was dressed as spider-man, which nearly made peter cry laughing out of irony when he first found out this morning, but he kept that to himself. “—oh, hey, y/n. nice costume! at least someone has taste.”

“superman is a great superhero—”

“whatever, dude. at least spiderman is real!” flash shouts before parading away, repeating the statement to his next victims that will hear him.

“what do you have against spider-man?” you ask, leaning against the rough wall by just your arm. you were too afraid to have the dress touch it, in fear of ripping or ruining it.

“nothing,” peter shrugs.

“oh, c’mon,” you shove at his shoulder playfully. “just say you don’t believe in him. it’s okay.”

“what! of course, i believe in him, he’s not santa claus.”

“oh my god, santa isn’t real?!” you pretend to be shocked, hands slapping your cheeks. peter lightly chuckles and rolls his eyes before nonchalantly grabbing your hand. your heart speeds up in your chest at his simple movement while your breathing halters.

and just like that he’s in control.

“do you want to get a drink?” peter’s thumb plays with the skin of your knuckles while he waits for your answer. but you can’t think of anything right now besides the soft caress being tattooed onto you.

“no, i’m not in the mood to drink tonight,” you replied, hoping that gave peter a hint at how you wanted the night to go. peter wasn’t as stupid as most guys, so you have high hopes that he understood the foreshadow.

“well, what are you in the mood for?” his voice was low again, speckles of lust wavering in it. he takes a step closer to you, and you can’t help but lay flat against the wall. you weren’t even thinking about the condition of the dress anymore. you swallowed as your stomach burned in anticipation.

“somewhere quiet,” your eyes flickered between his darkening eyes and his pink lips.

“it won’t stay quiet as long as you’re there,” a cheeky smile rises up on his lips as heat floods through your body. you hit his shoulder lightly, embarrassment flushing your cheeks.

following him and his contagious smile, peter drags you through the crowds of people. there were more people in the house than when you arrived, but you’re not surprised. the upstairs section of the frat was basically off-limits to most people, unless you really had to go to the bathroom and the downstairs one was taken. you’ve been to the house a few times, but you’ve never stayed long enough to go upstairs.

but tonight everything is different.

unlike your wooden floors, peter’s are carpeted, so you’re walking very carefully on your heels. when you reach the top step, your calves are slightly burning from the exercise.

looking both ways, peter leads you towards his bedroom at the end of the hallway, hands intertwined. it felt secretive, and a part of you liked it. he closes the door right when you got inside, locking it quickly. but while he’s doing so, your hands release from his to explore his room. he rushes to clean his messes books.

peter had a gray and black color scheme that was alluring. his dark gray sheets looked soft and plush, and you could imagine yourself sleeping in them every night. were you getting ahead of yourself? maybe. you barely knew him, but you felt like you’ve known him forever. you glance around his room some more, trying to get to know him.

he had two band posters; led zeppelin and guns n’ roses. you didn’t expect the second one, but it impressed you. his desk was scattered with textbooks and papers like he had just been studying. turning around you see his two-mirror closet. it was slightly ajar, letting you see a few boxes.

“what’s in the boxes?” you ask, slowly creeping your way towards them. you don’t miss peter’s eyes widening slightly and his cheeks heating up. now you have to know.

“n-nothing important,” peter scratches the back of his neck, and if he’s trying to hide something, he’s doing a horrible job at it. on the sides of each box were black handwriting.

“trophies and medals,” you read aloud, inching your way towards the door, “books—”

“y/n, don’t!” peter exclaimed nervously with a hand reaching out to stop you, causing you to turn around and eye his expression. he swallowed thickly, praying you didn’t open the box. his anxiety was at an all time high. “there’s… personal stuff in there.”

“okay, okay. you don’t want anyone to know you have sexy magazines,” you rolled your eyes and huffed out a chuckle. “i get it. i’m not jealous.”

“yeah…” peter’s cheeks don’t cool down, still red and warm. for some reason, he senses the awkward tension arising in the atmosphere around you both, and he doesn’t know how to tame it. you both know what you want now, but it’s hard to bring it up without being so forward.

“did i tell you that you look good in glasses?” you speak after the few seconds of silence. you get yourself comfortable on the edge of his bed, unstrapping your heels from your already sore feet. you groan. “feels so much better.”

“thanks,” peter joins with a never-ending blush, sitting next to you. he’s itching to touch you.

why was it so much easier when he broke in?

he turns to face you and stares at your eye makeup. you had little black webs on the corner of your eyes. for some strange reason, the idea of you dressing up as him really turned him on. even if you didn’t know it was him.

“peter,” you said a bit breathlessly. your heart was racing with anticipation and lust. he hadn’t even noticed you were staring right back at him. you could look at each other for hours, but you really wanted more. needed it. subconsciously, you were both leaning forward towards your lips.

“yeah?” peter’s gaze never faltered. his honey brown eyes darkened to black.

“i brought something for you,” his eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes, curious.

“it’s not even christmas yet,” he smiles, “and what’s that?” you leaned closer to him, your lips hovering over his ear.

“it’s a surprise,” you whispered seductively, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh. he doesn’t hesitate to rub the supple skin covered by fishnet, warm and smooth.

when you pull away just the slightest, peter crashes his lips to yours. the kiss was as passionate as your feelings for him, erupting your anticipation and nerves in small gasps. he shifts you over to his lap, so you’re straddling him. instantly, you buck your hips into his crotch, desperate for more than a heated kiss.

your heart is thrashing in your chest and there’s a familiar burn in the lower part of your stomach. your hands roam his brown hair, exploring his locks like it’s new territory. except it’s not. you’ve never felt like you’ve known someone so well without even knowing them that well. the chasing, the waiting, the wanting, the needing, the wondering—it was the strangest feeling, and you were addicted to it.

you pop your lips off of peter, puffy and pink. you both take a second to breathe before you start kissing down his neck. you’re not shy with your teeth, leaving marks on his tough skin that’s shielding layers of muscle.

when you get to his collarbone, you nearly whine because he still has his flannel and shirt on. you swear you’ve never been more horny or desperate in your life.

“relax, sweet girl,” peter reassures, petting your hair while you look up at him. “we have all night.”

just tonight? you thought. what about the other nights? and days?

after a soft sigh, you nod and begin unbuttoning his flannel. your hands are a bit shaky from all the anticipation and the rapid beat of your heart. of course peter notices.

“are you alright?” he questions softly, being the caring guy he is.

“yeah, just nervous, i guess,” you answer honestly because he makes it easy to. he’s comforting and he cares.

so why are you nervous?

but instead of asking you why, he says, “me too.”

after you undo the last button and gently remove his flannel, you delicately smile at him. it was so pretty, peter couldn’t help but smile too. you tug on the end of his superman t-shirt, and he yanks it off. and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his immaculate figure. it was sculpted to perfection, as if he was given his body from some drug. or maybe even the gods.

his hand raises to caress your supple cheek, causing you to stare at his face before he’s kissing you again. it started off sweet and gentle, like how peter saw you. but it didn’t take long for it to be rougher and full of lust. peter could feel his jeans tightening underneath you, and he wasn’t stupid enough to confuse the scent of your arousal with perfume or something.

trying again, your lips go to trail down peter’s neck again. his breath is wavering our sighs of pleasure as you lick and nibble his skin.

“gonna tell me that surprise?” peter asks, hands crawling up to the back of your dress. he’s sure to be careful as he drapes the straps down, the top slowly sliding down as you make out with his chest. you push peter’s body down so he’s laying flat on the bed, not answering him. “not gonna answer?”

you weren’t. you didn’t have time for all the things you wanted to do with him. all the things you wanted him to do to you. maybe you were too far gone to think it would take more than a night to be fulfilled by peter. more than two. more than a week? maybe a month. you’d keep going until you’re sick and tired, but you don’t think you could ever get sick or tired of peter parker.

lost within the feeling of his body, you barely comprehend when he flips you dramatically over. his hard body hovers above yours, your dress barely hiding your peaked nipples.

“i ask you a question, baby,” he husks, breath fanning over your skin and traveling toward your ear. a shiver scatters up your spine and a spark of lust fires in your clit.

“you have to wait and see,” you answered breathlessly, a smirk rising on your face.

a dark color covers his eyes. peter doesn’t like not knowing something, so he’s desperate to figure out your little “surprise.”

with little to no effort, violet’s dress is tugged all the way down your body. he tosses it gracefully onto his bedroom floor, but doesn’t pay any mind to it as he gazes over your body. he hasn’t seen you since wednesday and he was craving you like crazy. he thought he was going to go insane. but as he stares down at your figure adorning white fishnets sexily, he finally knows what it’s like to go crazy.

“is this my surprise? because, fuck, you look like a prize.”

you giggle as his rough fingertips trail down your torso. your nipples ache from neglect and the chilly october air that somehow breezes through the room. your body arches up into his touch, needing him badly. maybe you should just tell him the surprise.

but wouldn’t it be so much better if he just found it himself?

“can i unwrap my present?” peter teases with a cheeky smile, nudging at the waistline of your fishnets. you know that the second you open your legs he’s going to see your wetness leaking from the fabric.

“yes, peter,” you can’t help but laugh.

“do you care if i rip them?”

“what?”

“can i rip them?”

“i don’t—” the quiet sound of stretching and ripping cuts you off. he tore your fishnets. well, violet’s fishnets. “peter!”

“too late. i’ve never been good at unwrapping gifts,” he quickly kisses your cheek in a sweet apology, “luckily, i’m pretty good at taking care of them.”

you roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but can’t help but smile like a little kid. as he makes his way down your body again, he widens your legs and sees his surprise. your heart throbs just like your aching cunt.

“ah, so that’s my surprise,” he grumbles. it’s hard for him to keep it together right now.

peter stares darkly at the small purple toy peeking out from your bare pussy. you had no panties on, which in peter’s eyes, seemed ironic. from the top of his eyes, he sees the tiny smirk creeping up onto your lips.

his hand crawls up your leg until it reaches the soaking folds of your throbbing cunt. he pets your slit delicately, like you’d break if he fully touched you. you might. even from that simple touch, you were squirming underneath him, silently begging for more.

“how long has this been keeping you full?” he questions, curious, “is this what you’ve been using while i was gone?”

“mhm,” you hum when his fingers find your puffy clit, throbbing with desire. you leaked all around the purple toy, wetness gushing from you.

“look at you. fucking soaked. what made you this wet? was it the toy?” peter circles your clit faster, making your breath falter. you try to keep your eyes strained on him, but the feeling is just too incredible to focus on anything else. “answer me.”

“n-not the toy,” you stutter with breathlessness. a wavering moan elicits from you.

“then why are you so wet?” he taunts, and the low level of his voice floods over your body just right. you clench needily around the toy right in front of him, causing him to growl.

“you! nothing makes me wet like you do,” you admit head falling back on the pillow as his rough pace gives in. he’s satisfied with your answer, so he goes to a full, fast rhythm.

you’re so dazed with your orgasmic chase that your body rumbles as it nears. to make matters more intense, peter testingly pushes the small button on the bottom of the toy. it springs to life, vibrating your entire insides electrifingly. a broken moan escapes your swollen lips, and you just pray it’s hidden behind the heavy beat of the party music.

your legs shake in his hands as his head lowers. you’re so close to your high and then he does even more? you swear you were going to explode.

his challenging mouth sucks harshly on your clit, devouring you like you were his last meal on earth. instead of the bed sheets, your hands find their way to his soft hair, tucking the roots with triumph.

you’re breathless and you’re close. so, so close. you can see your orgasm in front of you like a sunset and you’re riding straight into it on a horse.

“peter!” you cry when he nibbles on your clit, a smirk pressed against you. it was nice to release your moans without having to muffle them down. your core tenses like never before, overwhelmed by the extreme pleasure. “i’m coming—oh, fuck, please let me come!”

“go ahead, sweet girl,” he pops off of you and replaces his mouth with his thick fingers. “give it all to me.”

so you do. you release every tension within you that was holding you back. with eyes screwed closed, your back arches from the high. the wetness squeezes out of you while peter eases you through it. he switches off the vibrator and puts it somewhere besides you on the bed.

he lowers his head to clean up the mess with delight. when he comes back up, the grin on his face is toothy and contagious. you reflect it back, wondering how you got so lucky. how were you lucky enough for your intruder to be peter parker?

“you okay, angel?” peter asks, thumb caressing your heated cheek bone with concern. you’re melting into his touch, hoping to be a part of him forever. you wouldn’t mind.

“yeah, just… thinking.”

“good or bad?”

“i’ll tell you later,” you smile as you recall all the small thoughts you have of peter. peter rolls his eyes dramatically as your hands rub down his chest.

“but… i was wondering if i could be on top? just wanna try it. i need it,” you stare into his eyes and patiently wait for an answer. you’ve never been on top before, but with peter it seems like it would be really fun.

“i don’t know. do you want me to die?”

you laugh, forcing you to look away from his brown eyes. you push peter off the bed until he’s standing and ask him to take off his pants. when he’s completely naked, he goes to lean against his headboard, ready for you to sit on him. you crawl over to him as he puts on a condom from his bedside table.

“ready, baby?” he massages your upper arms.

“you’re being too nice, peter,” you note as you throw your legs over his hips. you didn’t actually know what you were doing, but confidence is key. if you just pretended like you knew, it would look like it, right?

“what? do you want me to be mean, baby? ‘cause i can be mean.”

“don’t think you’re really capable.”

“we’ll see then, doll,” peter says deeply as his hand grips your hip tightly.

as you slowly lower your body with peter’s guidance, you feel his tip enter you. it was a different feeling than being on the bottom. you had more control, but you had to do more work. you’re not sure if you cared to have so much free reign. you kind of preferred when peter took the wheel.

you rocked your hips forward, feeling his hard cock fully inside of you. it was stretching you completely out. you couldn’t get up if you tried. there was a pain mixed with pleasure that filled you up so good.

“c’mon, y/n. fuck yourself on my cock,” he growled in encouragement as you attempted to lift your hips up. you barely move because you’re squeezing around his cock so tight, like if you let go you’ll die. peter lightly moans as you squeeze him, wondering if he’ll die right here inside of you.

“i-i can’t,” you whine.

“you can’t? thought you needed it?” he taunts. peter can be mean if he really wanted to,

“it’s too hard.”

“you’re not even trying. good girls at least try. don’t you want to be a good girl?”

peter thrusts up into you once to make you moan, which works successfully. you spit out your broken moan with your hands clawing his biceps.

“barely moved and you’re already moaning. pathetic, really. you asked me to be on top and you can’t even take it.”

you clench around his prick at his degrading words. you didn’t think he could be mean, but you were wrong. his words were just the right amount of degrading that made you weak and so, so wet.

“look at that. my girl’s getting off on words like pathetic,” my girl. the two words nearly cause you to come right then and there. then peter thrusts up into you with purpose in each movement. as one hand grips your hip, the other floats up to your breast and fingers your nipple. he flicks and tweaks at it, causing you to arch into his touch. “what about slut? do like when i call you my slut?”

“fuck, peter,” you groan at his dirty talking. with each pump, you would feel every inch of him inside of you, filling you up completely. although you’re so full, you needed it harder and faster, and it was going to be difficult to get it from this angle when you’re not being much help.

before the begging words even slip from your mouth, peter is flipping you both over with ease. he doesn’t waste a second to slide back into you, causing your body to erupt in flames.

he begins with hard pumps, slowly gaining speed. but once he’s going fast, you could barely focus on your senses. you swear you could hear colors.

the sounds of your moans, shrieks, and screams echo throughout his bedroom. you don’t care if people could hear you. you hoped they could. you hoped they knew how good peter was destroying you, so they knew you were his.

peter hoped the same thing.

“so, so good, peter,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head in ecstasy.

“yeah? such a slut for my cock, huh?” he teases, voice low and lustful. “so cockdumb that you couldn’t even ride me.”

“i-i can do it,” a breathless moan escaped you, but you were too floaty to understand what you were really saying.

“oh, now you can do it? well, it’s too late, sweetheart.”

peter’s pace doesn’t falter. he makes sure to make every thrust count as he hits every angle. you cry out in bliss, chasing your orgasm like your life depends on it.

“i’m close,” the whine that elicits from you is groggy and strained from how sore it feels. you can’t even imagine how raw it would be from taking him down your throat…

for another time.

his rough hand trails down between you until he’s pressing his hand down on your stomach. with every shift of his cock he can feel himself moving through you. as he puts more pressure, you both collectively moan at the feeling.

“can you feel me? can you feel me deep inside of your little cunt? do you feel me right here?” peter drags your trembling hand to place it on your lower torso, right where he’s nonstop thrusting into you.

“yes, peter! fuck, you’re so big. i feel you in my tummy,” you clamp around his cock, your orgasm right around the corner. “please, please let me come. i’ve been good.”

“have you? you couldn’t even ride me even when i let you.”

“i’m sorry, peter–please. need to so bad,” your eyes are squeezed shut as you beg peter. his hand that was on top of yours drifts down to your clit. he stimulates it by rubbing in tight circles that have you seeing stars. every muscle is in your body is screaming and pleading for release while he overstimulates you more. “want to be good!”

“yeah? want to be a good girl?” a needy moan elicits from you. “then come for me. right now while you’re squeezing me.”

the air surrounding you turned wistful and cloudy. your body rumbled and erupted as you orgasmed, shaking with desire as it poured out of you. you thought the first time that you and peter fucked was the best sex you’ve ever had, but after tonight, you’ve never been more wrong. maybe it’s because you two are a little more comfortable with each other. maybe it’s because you told him to be a little mean. whatever it was, it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. because it was more than sex. it felt like more.

peter’s orgasm trails yours, making sure that you come first. his thrusts were slowier and sloppier as he pants out heavy breaths. before exiting you, his hand reaches up to caress your face.

“okay?” his voice was a bit raspy as he came down from his high. his arms were on either side of your head, and you felt safe and protected.

“more than,” you smiled dopily at peter, whose eyes were twinkling. reflecting a smile, peter begins to pull out of you. “do we have to?”

“have to what?” he stops his movements, half-way out of you. you hated the empty feeling that started to flood over you because you knew he’d leave soon. well, you would leave soon.

“leave. can’t we just stay in here all night?” you question. a part inside of you was scared for his rejection, that he was going to kick you out and then that was it. but the other half of you had the courage to ask because you knew it would all be fine.

“i would–”

“oh, there’s a but coming.”

“but i need to eat. and so do you,” he pulls out of you and rids out the condom within a few seconds. you don’t move from your flat position on the bed, feeling the cold waves of loneliness flooding over you already. peter had a tingle that you wanted more. you wanted to stay, but you were too nervous to ask. you were good at giving him big hints, though.

he loves the idea of you staying. laying with you and hearing your soft breaths as you sleep. cuddling close to be warm from the cold air. peter’s heart lurches at the wonderful thought.

peter reaches for his clothes and dresses. you bend over and slip on the dress, without the fishnets. your hair was probably a mess, but you didn’t care because the only person you cared about seeing tonight was peter.

once you’re dressed with shaky hands, peter stands in front of you and rests his hands on your shoulders. delicately, he caresses your neck as you practically pur into his warm touch. you felt your heart rate pick up, even though he was just inside of you.

“and then, if you’d like, we can come back up here,” he presses his chest against yours as his voice softens, “and we can lay in bed, watch a movie, and not worry about being caught because we don’t have rules like you do.”

although your heart was beating fast already, you’ve never felt more comfortable. he made you feel reassured, and you couldn’t ask for more. with a smile rising to your lips, peter’s heart skips a beat at the wistfulness cascading throughout his body. your lips were soft and kissable, your skin was glowing with an orgasmic shine, and your makeup was a bit smudged, but you still looked like peter’s perfect girl.

his girl.

“wait, before we eat, i have to get some stuff at the sorority.”

“okay,” he says, “put this on. it’s freezing and your wearing practically nothing.”

he throws a hoodie at you and you catch it with blinking eyes. it as a small gesture, but your heart was melting. you slip it over your head without any question. and then he’s dragging you out of the extremely loud and crowded house. no one says or questions anything, and you’ve never been more glad to be so invisible.

–

“what are you doing? come on!”

“what if they see me?”

“there’s no one home!” you whisper-shouted at peter as you walked through the door. there was a key under the flower pot that worked great when you forgot your key.

it’s kind of ironic that you are both sneaking into your sorority. it’s a full circle moment.

you both tiptoe through the clean, white house. peter nearly takes his shoes off because he’s scared he’ll leave dirt footprints in his trail. he really does not want to be seen in this house knowing what happened to flash the last time they snuck in. but it’s peter’s job to be stealthy, so he hopes he could keep up the good work.

you make it up the stairs and head straight for your room. peter remembered exactly which one was yours, now that he’s been in it two times somehow. once you’re both inside, he shuts the door behind him quietly like someone would hear him.

“why did we just tiptoe all the way up here? there’s no one even here!” you say in a normal level voice as a chuckle follows after. peter laughs with you as you search your drawers for some clothes.

“i feel it’s only right to bring the mit one, right?”

“definitely.”

“wait, did you leave the vibrator on your bed?”

“uh… yeah. sorry.”

“peter!” your skin grows warm with the idea that someone might stumble into his bedroom and find it just lying there. you cringe at yourself.

you pack a small overnight bag with your most needed essentials. peter sits patiently on your bed, practically swinging his feet as he analyzes your bedroom. it was simple with a few picture frames of family and friends. your room was basically plain white with a few pink and blue items scattered around the place. in all, it was you. he couldn’t think of a better sorority room to fit your vibe, your personality better than this room. it was naturally gorgeous, like you.

even though peter was looking around your room, he was still watching you pack. he observed when you folded a pair of night shorts with the mit t-shirt and even threw in an outfit for the next day just in case you two went out. but you were missing something.

“okay, let me grab my toothbrush,” you quickly left the room and in no-time were back. “let’s go. i’m hungry now.”

“but you’re forgetting something,” peter says. you blink, wondering what you might be forgetting.

“but i grabbed everything–” you watch as peter glides towards your dresser drawers. he opens the top left and immediately finds your colorful panties and underwear. your eyes widen in embarrassment, even though he’s seen you naked multiple times. something about him staring at your undergarments was just a little more… vulnerable?

peter snatches two different colors, a royal blue one and a vibrant red one, similar to the first one he saw you in. of course, he picked these colors purposely.

“which one? i’m thinking the blu–”

“what are you doing! that’s my underwear!” you tried to reach for them dangling in his hands, but he was way quicker than you. it’s like he knew before you even moved.

“well, i think at this point it’s kind of a tradition for me to take one, no? i couldn’t take them earlier because you weren’t wearing any!”

your neck and cheeks flush with embarrassment. yeah, you may have been confident when in the moment, but talking about it just made your face hot. peter always knew how to get you going. to get quickly out of this situation, you grumble, “blue.”

and with that, you were on your way back to the frat house. the party was still going strong and surprisingly, no one asked where either of you were. when you and peter walked through the door, people just acted like you’ve been there the whole time. but they were also drunk and high, so was it really that shocking?

within the first few minutes of you and peter being in the congested house, you both look at each other with a knowing look. there was no way you two could eat in this populous, mess of a place.

“diner?” peter shouts over the blaring music. he swore flash turned it up to full volume, even when peter told him specifically not to do that.

“exactly what i was thinking,” you reply loudly as you squeeze your bodies through the crowd. peter slides his hand into yours as you shift through everybody. a spark of electricity nearly shocks you.

when you approach his car, you throw your bag at the bottom of your feet before dropping into his passenger seat. you both inhale and exhale the refreshing night time air. the house smelt like marjuana and sweat, but his car was scented with pine and fresh leather.

as he started the car, you two didn’t say anything. and it was perfect. it was comfortable. it was safe. you turn your head to look at peter, whose eyes were fighting between the road and you. your heart skips a beat that’s getting familiar as you smile softly. gently, your hands intertwine as you ride on to the diner.

your journey with peter started… differently than most. but you liked the idea of having a tradition with peter. sure, it may not be traditional, but it was yours. you would both have to create a fundraiser for all these panties he will be stealing because they’re not cheap!

is it really stealing if you know he’s taking them? whatever.

when people ask how you guys met, it’s going to be a funny story. how many people break into someone’s house as a dare and then fall in love with them? not many.

wait… love?

–

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. i could not be more grateful for the love on panty stealer. i never thought any of my writing would get this much notice, so thank you (times three) for all the likes, comments, and reblogs.

note: i won’t be making anymore full parts, however, i will do blurbs/drabbles of these two if requested!

taglist: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @sylum @harrys-humble-housewife @blurazbabe @introverbatim @piperparker7 @graceberman3 @tommy-braccoli @fioooweeooweeeoo @conrad4life13

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnxstyles #peter parker #peter parker smut #tom holland #tom holland smut #peter parker fics #peter parker fanfics #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland fics #tom holland fanfics #peter parker one shot #tom holland one shot

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sanjisprincesswifey · 11 months

Text

jealousy, jealousy ⋆ trafalgar law x reader

summary: eustass helps law realize something

♡: sort of non-canonical wano law content. female reader. 750+ words. sfw content.

law could feel his eye twitch at the sight of you two. it has his stomach twisting in knots and his throat running dry, like some form of horrific torture.

despite being an incredible asset to his team, he was beginning to regret bringing you along on this mission at all.

out of all the people in the country of wano, you had to end up with that red-haired, idiot of a captain. law doesn’t understand how anyone would find interest in that unruly dumbass, but here he was with an arm around you and his face so close to yours that law was sure you could taste his breath.

law never knew exactly what your type was but he wasn’t expecting it to be…that.

“trafalgar, what’re you staring at over there?” the dumbass in question asks, with an obvious smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

you turn at the call of your captain and law bitterly rolls his eyes in response, attempting to act as unbothered as he could right now.

hearing eustass laugh in response, surely making you chuckle too, has an unreasonable, seething jealousy burn in law’s chest. and when he turns back his heart sinks, staring in disbelief as the two of you begin to lean in to each other.

law doesn’t know what comes over him, but his vision grows blurry and time begins to feel like it is slowing down. “y/n-ya, can i see you outside for a moment please,” he strainingly calls. he doesn’t bother to check for a reaction from either of you, but he can assume that one of you isn’t too thrilled to be interrupted.

the moonlight that cascades over wano envelopes your skin in a minute blue-ish tint the moment you step out and law momentarily forgets his distain for a couple of seconds, too engulfed in your beauty to be able to think.

“captain?” you question, pulling his head out of the clouds.

he shifts awkwardly on his feet, scratching the back of his neck. “i, uh—“ he dryly coughs, “i needed to see you for a moment.”

you nod, assuming he would continue and inform you further, but he just stood there averting his gaze between the ground and you. “yes…for what?”

his gray eyes seem more lackluster than normal, which was odd, even for him. law usually was so composed and calm, even in the most dangerous situations, seeing him so on-edge was slightly unnerving.

“captain,” you gently say, reaching over lightly grab his shoulder, “you can talk to me.”

before you can retract your hand, law grabs it to hold in his. “i don’t think you should date eustass,” he blurts out, startling the both of you.

his hand that’s holding yours grows clammy, you were certain even he wasn’t intending to reveal that information.

“i—i mean, he just doesn’t seem like your type…no, wait, fuck—“

your head tilts, brows furrowing as you watch him poorly string a sentence together. in all the time that you’ve known law, you’ve never heard him babble like he is right now before.

“so what is my type?” you question, crossing your arms over your chest.

he thinks about speaking before he actually does, “well…you deserve someone who could treat you, you know, good. someone smart, who knows you and—“

your lips curve into a smile, eyes softening when you realize who he’s describing. “law, that sounds like you,” you interrupt.

law’s entire body freezes, his eyes widen as he looks up at you. he shakily points to himself with a confused, almost humorous, expression on his face. the realization on his face soon sets in, finally taking a deep breath. “…that sounds like me,” he repeats, to himself mostly.

“i didn’t realize you felt that way about me, captain,” you say in a much calmer, almost flirtatious tone as you step closer to him. you reach up to lightly graze the stubble on his chin, bringing his lips closer to yours.

his breath hitches, wanting nothing more than to continue where you and eustass had left off. “wait, wait, wait, as your captain…and future boyfriend, i would like to take you out on a proper date first. it’s the least you deserve,” he blushes, trying his hardest to not give in to the temptation of how soft your lips look.

as disappointed as you are, you have to appreciate his dorky, yet chivalrous, nature (which doesn’t surprise you one bit). “i guess that’s okay, the longer i wait, the more i’ll want you,” you smirk, thumb brushing over his bottom lip as you head back inside.

law stands in awestruck, a small drop of blood descending from his nose.

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)

#trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law imagine #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine

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suguru-getos · 4 months

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Genshin Impact characters and how they comfort you (F!Reader):

A/N: It's been a while lovelies :P since yours truly touched Genshin Impact. In all honesty, the game remains to be my comfort game & the characters give me so much joy. Here's me, word-vomiting about them blorbos. ;)

Characters included: Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Ayato

Neuvillette:

The only reason he hasn't cried (yet) is because he is thinking hard on what to do when you're blue. Would probably suggest that you and him go together for a walk! Hey! Don't judge him - a walk fixes everything. Besides, someone who hasn't had a romantic interest in centuries really needs to learn a thing or two. He doesn't mind writing an official application about his absence and walking along the streets of Fontaine with you. He knows the Melusine village brings you a lot of comfort so it's also his go-to place whenever he's feeling down. He tried making you taste different kinds of waters - yep, didn't end well for the Hydro Dragon Sovereign. However, lessons are to be learnt and he learnt them well! Now, he has realized that mostly, your sadness can be satiated with something delectable to soothe your tongue. He started with soup, well? Naturally.. though that didn't end well either. He now has realized what he might like, you might/might not. So, he takes the more aware turn & takes you to places you like, or sometimes doesn't do anything. Happily wraps his arms around you, kisses your forehead and doesn't say anything. Silence and hugs? Best! He's noticed you like that far better.

Ayato:

The Yashiro Commissioner is a cocky fellow, and sometimes a tad too overconfident. He thinks he knows you inside out; that's not something he refers from you though. He thinks it's because no one can ever love you more than Kamisato Ayato. (He is kinda right? Though what's worse is he is mostly correct about the things that you need.) Like - he knows when that period begins, and when the mood swings absolutely obliterate you; he knows some Fontainian chocolate, or Mousse will come to the rescue. Some dangos might also help. The Kamisato Estate staff is trained to not fall pale to your needs. You & him both know that with all the travel opportunities you accompany Ayato in, you do have taste-buds which would be bored with Inazuman food alone. Whenever there is something bothering you personally, Ayato would ask you to vent it out. He firmly believes in annoying you with persistent cooing and crooning of, "Hey Princess, what's got that pretty face so long?" / "Oh come now, don't tell me you would hide things from your husband? I feel judged already. Do I not deserve to know?" You do end up telling him everything - and while Ayato is surprisingly good at giving advices… you always like how he asks first, if you want him to listen, or give his opinions.

Alhaitham:

The Scribe of Sumeru's Akademiya who is also your boyfriend - usually takes the overly analytical route, rationalizing everything. So you often don't tell him about the things that bother you. Since he is so observant and keen however, you can never really slide something that's got you down under the rug either. "You are behaving differently." Alhaitham commented, "Usually when you come home, from outside… you freshen up." He comments at the lack thereof, watching you squirm under his gaze. Of course, whenever you feel down your mind and body send you in a slump. "Oh- yeah, I'll get to that." You quickly comment, though you're cut off by his tender hold on your wrist. "Course you can, something wrong?" Now he knows the 'Female Anatomy', as he likes to call it. Often going out of his way to explain your hormonal cycle, what you should do when you are in your leutal, menstrual, ovulation phases etc. You don't have to say much in certain times as such. Though he acts like nothing's the matter when you do vent about let's say - something at work/Akademiya; there have been instances where he would pay personal visits to some people for pissing his girl off. Duality? Yep.

Wriothesley:

'His' Grace; is extremely kind to everyone, and fair. You being his significant other, get your own perks from time to time. For example: He is always available for tea for his little one. He is always available to listen to you whenever. He considers it fortunate enough that you are willing to live in the Fortress of Meropide with him - he knows it's the harshest decision especially from someone who hasn't done any crime whatsoever. There are days when even someone like Wriothesley (who seldom goes out) makes sure that he visits the world up above with you. Might take you to the Opera, might take you to those fabulous boutiques, anything and everything fashion the second he notices your eyes glim. Nope, none of that is tolerated here. The prisoners have started calling you 'Her Grace'; while you do not prefer it, Wriothesley does not mind, he is fine with you being treated like someone treasured. That would ensure that people around you would tend to you also, when you're down. Damn does this man love body massages, giving them to you and watching your shoulders slump. He needs to be so careful with you though. Can’t be too rough else his little baby would break… <3

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Note

you ask and you shall recieve, older!eddie not only helping you relax your mind after a rough day but also, being the only one who's ever been able to put you in subspace, because the man KNOWS how to treat a woman<3 im in like desperate need for this kind of fic because i need someone to put me in subspace

The joy I got from this request. You have no idea. Older!Eddie is literally my ultimate weakness. But I tried to be as accurate as possible with subspace, even though it's different for everyone.

You can meet how Eddie and reader met here!

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), choking, spanking, subspace, soft dom!eddie, sub!reader, older!eddie, age gap (Eddie is 42, reader is 24)

Words: 3.1k

It may be true that your apartment is closer to work than Eddie’s trailer, but your car always seems to have a mind of its own when you’ve had a bad day. You’re pretty sure that your car takes over and brings you to your boyfriend’s place without you even being conscious of it. Today was no different. You’d forgotten your lunch at home, been late because of traffic, and worst of all, been passed over for the promotion you know you deserved.

It all led you to sitting in your car outside of Eddie’s home, his truck not in its usual place in front of the trailer. He should be home any minute, but every second that ticks by grates on your nerves like a broken bow on a fiddle.

The moment you see—or rather, hear—his truck come into the trailer park, you yank your key out of the ignition and get out of the car. The squeaky bucket of bolts careens into its usual spot, then falls silent. The blaring metal music stops, and the engine dwindles down until it’s quiet. The driver’s door opens before you hear it slamming closed.

“Hey, baby,” Eddie says as he walks around the front of the truck. He takes a drag of the cigarette he’s been smoking, then tosses it into his empty garbage can out front. “Been here long?”

“Not really,” you say, instantly attaching yourself to his side once you’re close enough. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Eddie says, ducking down to press a kiss to your head. “How was work?”

When your only response is a sigh, Eddie frowns, the subtle wrinkles by his eyes becoming even more prevalent. He tugs you over to the front door and ushers you in once he’s unlocked it. You watch as he takes his hair tie out, shaking his mane free. The wild brown curls cascade down to his shoulders. Unable to help it, you reach up and play with the hair framing his face. It’s something that’s always calmed both of you; you playing with his hair. It can relax Eddie to sleep and have you forgetting all your troubles of the day. Wrapping a single curl around your index finger, you notice the start of some gray at his temples. It makes sense since the lack of color has been popping up more and more in his beard and stubble lately. You don’t think he believes you when you tell him how sexy it is.

Eddie leans down, cupping your face in his hands, and presses a soft kiss to your mouth.

“Rough day, baby?”

You nod and he instantly wraps you up in his arms. He hasn’t even changed out of his greasy coveralls yet, but you couldn’t care less as you bury your head in his chest. His large hand strokes up and down your back as he presses sweet kisses to the top of your head. When he goes to pull away, your fingers tighten over the zipper of the coveralls, silently begging him not to let go.

“Don’t want me to make something for dinner?” he asks. You shake your head against his body. “Want me to order takeout?” You shrug. Eddie sighs and squeezes you against his body. “How about this…” Eddie pulls back just enough so he can tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Why don’t I call up to get some Chinese food delivered—I know, I know, Golden Palace is your favorite—and I’ll get changed and hold you in my lap until the food gets here.”

“I’d like that,” you tell him. Satisfied that he came up with an agreeable arrangement, Eddie smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead.

He makes his way into the kitchen, balancing the phone receiver on his shoulder as he searches the fridge for the magnet with Golden Palace’s phone number on it. “Want your usual, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please.” Kicking off your shoes, you nudge them over to join the tiny pile of Eddie’s near the front door. As he talks on the phone, you make your way down the hall to his bedroom. The starchy blouse and pinching skirt you’ve been wearing all day have worn out their welcome. Slipping them both off, you drop them on the chair in the corner of Eddie’s room. Spotting your favorite pair of Eddie’s sweats hanging out of a drawer, you move to go get them before freezing in place. No, you decide, you don’t want to wear them. You’re content in just your bra and panties.

Eddie’s bed is one of your favorite places in the world. And here and now? It’s just about irresistible. Climbing on, you lay back against his pillow and take in the messy room around you. Clothes are strewn about everywhere, despite his hamper in the corner being empty. There are a few photo frames on the walls now, which makes you smile. Before you, there’d only been posters of bands and movies. Some are still there, but now there are also photo collage frames on the walls featuring the people he loves. His uncle is in a few of them, as well as his buddies from his old Hellfire days. There’s even some of you that you begged him not to hang up, but he said you looked so good in them that he wanted to look over at them whenever he wanted. But your favorites are the ones of you two together. One of them is from when you’d gone to Chicago together and got caught in a snowstorm. Another is of you standing on the corner of a dock at Lover’s Lake, where you forced Eddie to hold onto your hips and recreate the Titanic pose. He’d rolled his eyes, but who’s laughing now that he put the picture up on his wall?

Eddie steps into the bedroom and stops when he sees you only in your underwear. “Babe, you can borrow clothes. You know that.”

“Didn’t wanna,” you say, making grabby hands for him. A soft smile comes to his face as he sheds himself of his coveralls and climbs on the bed next to you.

“What do you want?” Eddie asks. He’s pretty sure he already knows, but you both know you’ve got to ask for it. His suspicions are even further confirmed when you just look at him from beneath your eyelashes, fluttering them at him. “Tell me, princess.”

“Want you to make me feel better,” you say in a hushed voice. Not looking him in the eyes, you trail your fingers over Eddie’s thin gray t-shirt. “Want you to take care of me. Like only you can.”

Before Eddie, you barely had any sexual experience. But with the limited amount you did have, guys could never make you feel good. They were lacking in multiple ways, actually. Not only could none of them bring you to orgasm, but they couldn’t even distract you sufficiently when all you needed was to get out of your head for a little while. Eddie had gotten you into subspace the very first time he’d tried. Never before had you trusted someone so much, felt completely safe, which only added to the hazy feeling that came over you. You’re pretty sure Eddie was made specifically for you. Funnily enough, he thought the very same thing.

Eddie nods, laying one of his large hands on your stomach. His calloused fingers rub against your bared skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I can do that,” Eddie assures you. “Let’s get you more comfortable, okay babydoll?” At your nod, Eddie slips your panties from your legs and you reach behind you to unclasp your bra. Once the garments are tossed somewhere on the floor, Eddie crawls on top of you, nuzzling his nose against yours. His nose trails down to your throat, but that’s not the part of him you want there. Eddie notices the barely there whine that escapes you as he places a hard kiss against the soft skin of your neck.

“My princess wants my hands, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, sir.”

Eddie shrugs himself out of his t-shirt and unzips his jeans. He might as well take it all off now because he doesn’t want to have to stop for a single moment once he’s got you going. Finally shed of all articles of clothing, Eddie lays one large, tattooed hand on your hip. Ever so slowly, he moves the hand up your body. Over the softness of your tummy, over the small tattoo you’d gotten on your ribs, just below your breast, that you decided to get after admiring Eddie’s ink for so long. Finally, his hand trails over the swell of your breast, only pausing briefly to flick a thumb over your nipple, before slipping over your collar bone and halting on the one place you wanted it. The pressure Eddie applies to his hand on your throat isn’t enough to impact your breathing, but enough to feel the possessiveness in the gesture. Waiting until your eyes slip closed, Eddie tightens his hand just slightly, causing a hitch in your breathing. This is your sweet spot, he knows. Right where you start to feel your worries melt away.

“You want me to fill you up?”

“Y-Yes, sir. Want you t-to fill me up, please,” you say.

“Gonna fuck my baby girl so hard,” Eddie says as he nudges your legs apart. “Won’t be able to have a thought in her pretty little head that’s not about me and how good my cock is making her feel.”

Resting back on his knees—but not too far back, keeping the pressure on your throat—Eddie spits into his free hand before working his saliva up and down his cock. Seeing you already relaxing, legs spread, eyes closed, and his hand on your throat? Eddie didn’t need to pump himself very many times before he was clamoring to be inside of you. Running his fingers through your folds, grinning in satisfaction at how wet you already are, he mixes your slick with the saliva on his cock. He lines himself up with your entrance, eyes focused on your face as he pushes in. Your brows pull together, just a little, and a low breathy moan escapes your lips. Eddie leans over you, bracing himself on the forearm of the arm that’s not holding you around the throat.

“How’s that, baby?”

“More.”

“More, what?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows.

“More, please, sir.”

“That’s my good girl.”

A groan tumbles out of Eddie as he bottoms out. He thrusts his hips, sliding himself in and out of you, picking up the pace just a hair each time. The pressure on your throat increases as his hips snap against yours.

“Wanna tell me what happened at work? What’s got you so upset?” he asks as he keeps a steady pace.

Keeping your eyes closed, a sigh escapes your lips. “Out of all the p-people who started working there around the same time I did, I-I’m the one who’s most qualified for—.”

“Ah,” Eddie cuts you off with a tut. “That was a test to see if I fucked the stress out of you yet. And I failed.” At that, he begins pounding into you even harder, the headboard against the wall sounding like a jackhammer. Whimpers start to fall from your lips, and when you open your eyes, a few tears slide down the sides of your face. Eddie pulls out of you, releasing his hand from your throat and you groan at the loss of both sensations. “Come on up, baby. I want you on your hands and knees.”

Letting out a small whine, you turn your head to bury it in his pillow. “M’comfy, sir.”

“Up, princess,” he orders.

He slips his hand underneath you and pulls up. Complying, you move slowly, letting Eddie know that you're headed in the right direction. Once he’s satisfied that you’re in the position he wants, —and has admired the view—Eddie pushes his cock back inside of you. He gives it a few thrusts before his one hand grabs your hip hard enough to bruise and the other gives a harsh smack against the soft plush skin of your ass.

“That’s one, baby,” Eddie says. “Want you to count them for me, okay?” When your only response is a nod, Eddie gives your ass another smack. “Okay?”

“Y-Yes,” you whine. “That was two, sir.”

“Good girl,” Eddie says as his hand rubs over the area he just struck. With no warning, he pulls his hand back and gives another stinging slap.

“Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Uh…”

“Come on babydoll, what number are up to now?” Eddie asks.

“I don’t remember, sir,” you admit with a whimper.

That’s the answer Eddie wanted, though. Your brain was slowly turning to mush, which meant he was doing his job. It almost meant that he needed to get you on your back again, since he knows that’s where you get the most enjoyment out of subspace.

After one more smack to your ass, Eddie reaches forward and wraps his thick fingers around the front of your neck. He guides you up until your back is pressed flush up against his chest.

“How’s my princess feeling?” he asks as he slips out of you. The sensation causes a whine, bringing a soft smile to Eddie’s lips. “Shh, just changing positions, sweetheart.” He carefully maneuvers you until you’re lying on your back again. Before you get fully down though, he slips a pillow under your hips. One, it’ll support your ass, being sore from the spanking. And two, this angle always allows Eddie to hit your sweet spot.

Hands holding onto your hips, Eddie slides himself back inside of you, causing your face to scrunch up in the most adorable way. He lowers himself to hover over you, his dark curls curtaining his face above yours, like the two of you are locked together in this private moment. Your eyes blink open, sleepily, as he starts pounding into you again. Eddie’s wish was coming true; there was nothing in your head besides him. Heavy eyelids drooping, your gaze shifts down to his scruff, making Eddie let out a breathy chuckle.

“Looking at the gray again, baby? I don’t get what you find so sexy about it. Like the fact that I’m old, huh? That I know what I’m doing and know how to take care of this tight little pussy of yours? None of those boys your age know how to handle a woman like you, do they? No. You need me. I know what you need, baby girl. I know what makes you feel so good.”

Eyes becoming too tired to hold open, you let them close again. Your mouth opens slightly, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to run his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Such a pretty girl.” Your eyes open again, the fucked out expression a sign of victory for Eddie. “Aww, look at you. Got my smart girl all nice and dumb, huh? My cock that good, princess?”

Whines begin to fall from your lips, your brows tighten up. Eddie can read your body better than he can read The Hobbit, so he knows you’re very close. It’s a good thing too, because so is he. Whenever he sees you this blissed out, it hurtles him towards his own release.

Supporting his body with one arm, Eddie reaches down and rubs tight circles over your clit. “How’s that, babydoll? Does that feel good for my baby?”

There’s an imperceptible nod of your head, but Eddie sees it. Feels the way your walls are starting to clench around his throbbing cock.

“Let go, sweetheart. Let me make you feel so good.”

Your body is limp, the only movement is the rapid rise and fall of your chest, and your hips as they move against Eddie of their own accord. The moment your body tips over the edge and into your orgasm, Eddie feels his. Feels the way you soak and clench his cock. It has his hips stuttering, letting out a string of moans and curses as he releases inside of you.

“Fuck, princess,” Eddie says as his body comes down from his high. He looks down at you, eyes open but glossy and relaxed. Mouth curled into a lazy smile as you look back up at him. You’re spent and so is he.

Taking a deep breath to try and get his breathing back to normal, Eddie pulls out and flops down beside you. He knows sometimes it can take you a little while to come back to him when you’re in this state. But he also knows that holding you while you’re in this haze is your favorite part. Maneuvering the blanket on the bed—which he now needs to wash—he tucks it up to both of your waists. Slowly and gently, Eddie manages to get you to turn over and holds you in his arms. Your face nuzzles into his neck, your sweat and his blending together.

“You did so good for me, baby girl. You’re always so good for me. I’m one lucky old man.”

The soft giggle against his skin lets him know that you’re still there with him. He rests his head against yours and runs his fingertips up and down your bare spine. “Why don’t we take a bath after this, hmm? Nice warm bath, then curl up on the couch. You can pick a movie to watch while we eat dinner. How’s all that sound?”

“Good,” you say, barely audible. Your arms slip around Eddie’s waist, and you pull yourself as close to him as you can in your floaty state.

Eddie gives you a gentle squeeze in his arms. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you look up at him. Gazing into your eyes, he can see that you’re coming back to him bit by bit. Once you relax your grip on him, he’ll go get you some water to drink and run the hot water for the bath. But right now, he’s going to lay here and enjoy the cuddles that you both need. He knows you’ll thank him for this when you’re fully returned. And he’ll tell you yet again how you don’t have to thank him for it. That he loves being with you like this. The fact that you trust him in this way. Seeing you go from majorly stressed to being totally blissed out was more than enough thanks for Eddie. He feels honored that he gets to help you in this way. His perfect little girl.

“How you feeling?” Eddie asks softly.

“So good,” you say dreamily, making Eddie chuckle. “I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you too, princess.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #request #roses collection

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aerynwrites · 7 months

Text

Dance The Night Away

Halsin x Fem!Tav

A/N: This request was too cute! Thank you @blobs-away for sending this in. I Love writing anything festival/dancing around the fire so I had tons of fun and love cute soft Halsin and Tav! I did write this in third person POV since they requested Tav instead of reader. Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings/Tags: PDA, Kissing, fluff, Halsin being a flirt, suggestive jokes/themes (very small and subtle).

There’s not much to celebrate these days, not with the tadpoles or the looming threat of the absolute. Yet those at Last Light have still found a way to make the best of the situation.

With Thaniel back and reunited with the other half of himself Halsin called for a celebration, one step closer to the end of the shadow curse.

Not many refused him. Looking for any excuse to celebrate and make merry in such dire times.

Even Tav found herself and her companions eagerly getting ready for the party. While her companions eagerly tittered about, she found herself staring fondly at the fabric between her fingers.

It’s a gauzy, flowy thing, dark green in color and both revealing yet tasteful at the same time. She’s come to own the dress through a kind tiefling woman the night of the party after they’d saved the grove, apparently seeing Tav ogling her own dress and kindly giving her a duplicate she had.

“Oh it’s nothing,” she’d waved Tab off as she protested. “I can make another one just like it. You deserve something nice.”

At the time, Tav had never thought she’d find an excuse to wear the beautiful garment, but now…

A quick rap on her door startled the woman from her reverie, turning to look at Shadowheart peeks into the room.

“You’re not ready yet?” She asks, stepping in and closing the door behind her. “The others are already outside draining the wine barrels as we speak. You’ll want to hurry if you hope to have a drink.” Her voice is teasing as she approaches Tav, her gaze falling down to the dress in her hands.

“Oh…” her eyes widen as she reaches out to her for the fabric. “What is this? Planning on catching someone’s eye?”

Tav rolls her eyes, but can’t stop the heat that rushes to her cheeks. “No I just…is it too much?”

Shadowheart let’s put a quiet ‘tsk’, pointing to the privacy screen across the room. “Go put it on.”

Tav obeys the other woman’s instructions with a roll of her eyes and a muttered ‘yes, sir’.

The dress is soft agaisnt her skin, silky in comparison to the usual cotton and leather that adorns her body. And it’s…light, twirling around her feet as she moves out from behind the screen.

Shadowheart brows raise as she does so, nodding in approval. “If Halsin hasn’t bedded you yet, he surely will after tonight.”

Tav reaches out, smacking her companions shoulder playfully. “Shadowheart!”

The woman smiles, holding up her hands. “I’m just letting you know. You’ll have to fend off many wandering eyes tonight,” she glanced behind her. “I’ll see you down there?”

Tav nods, watching the door click behind her before she moves to finish getting ready. Not that there was much to do besides sliding on her camp shoes and making her way downstairs to where the festivities are taking place.

The sounds of the party meet her ears as soon as she emerges from her room, the clinking of glasses and bursts of raucous laughter grow louder as she descends the stairs to the main portion of the tavern, spying some of her companions as she goes.

Astarion sees her first, eyes widening slightly as Karlach catches sight of her next letting out a low whistle and giving a thumbs up. Tav rolls her eyes just as her vampiric friend approaches, glass of wine in one hand while the other reaches for her own.

“My, my, darling,” he purrs, voice teasing, “who knew you could clean up so nice?”

Tav scoffs as he twirls her around the skirt of the dress splaying out prettily as he does so, earning several interested whispers from her other companions.

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” shes says, stopping once she faces him again.

Astarion smiles coyly, “It actually was a compliment. The druid won’t be able to keep his hands off you in that little number.”

She rolls her eyes again, readying a witty retort until an arm moves to slide around her waist, tugging her into a solid chest.

“Astarion is right, my heart. I’ve already failed at keeping my hands to myself,” Halsin jests, lips brushing her ear as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to her cheek.

A low hum escapes Tav’s lips as she turns her head up to glance at the man behind her. “I’m not complaining.”

Astarion lets out a playful groan. “Oh, please stop being so sweet. It’s…nauseating.”

Tav sticks her tongue out playfully at the vampire just as Halsin starts to drag her towards the exit of the inn. “Don’t do anything I wouldn't do!” Astarion calls out behind them, sending the woman a mischievous wink.

“There’s nothing you wouldn’t do,” she calls back, smile tugging at her lips as Astarion raises his glass towards her.

“Exactly!”

She can’t stop the laugh that escapes her at her friends' antics, but finally turns to see where Halsin is leading her, the smile on her lips growing tenfold as the outside air greets her.

The festivities are just as lively outside as in. Laughter and music fill the air, guiding the circle of dancers around the roaring bonfire in the middle of the courtyard. Couples and those alone all join hands and switch partners to the beat of the music, some experts in their craft and others stumbling over the complicated footsteps of the dance.

It looks like entirely too much fun, and Tav almost drags Halsin into the middle of it - but as usual, her lover beats her to it, tugging her hand towards the crowd.

“Dance with me, my love?” He asks, eyes sparkling in delight.

Tav nods enthusiastically, another bout of laughter leaving her as Halsin brings them both into the fold seamlessly.

“I don’t know this dance!” She says, fighting to be heard over the music.

Halsin smiles, pulling her closer before guiding her to spin beneath his arm. “Let me and the music guide you,” he says, eyes crinkle with laughter, “I am sure you will be a natural.”

Tav tries to do as he says, and surprisingly…it works. From watching the others around her and taking note of Halsin’s silent guidance the dance becomes familiar quickly. Her feet fly over the cobblestones as Halsin’s hands never stray from her body.

The music changes slowly, shifting to a slightly slower tune, still upbeat but allowing everyone to slow down instead of racing around the fire as they were.

Halsin immediately pulls her closer, one hand falling to her hip as the other reaches up to take her hand in his own, holding it out to the side as the dance guides them around the center of the courtyard, the couples slowly spreading out. They step to the beat, Halsin dipping her to the side every now and again, until slowly Tav starts to realize they are on the very outskirts of the circle of dancers.

She raises a brow as Halsin's hand slips lower than customary for this particular dance, and she smiles coyly.

“Trying to separate me from the pack, my love?” She asks, voice teasing. “Tired of sharing?”

Halsin laughs, giving her hip a teasing squeeze. “I must admit, I am quite pleased to have you to myself for a moment,” he says, eyes slipping down to look over her quickly. “I have yet to tell you how beautiful you are.”

He drops her hand now, slowing them both to a gentle sway instead of the upbeat dance as he reaches to tease the strap of her dress between his fingers. She shudders as his fingers dance along her collarbone, dipping lower momentarily before returning to the top of her shoulder.

“Did you pick this color on purpose?” He asks, admiring the deep emerald green.

She shakes her head. “No, it was a gift. Although it is fitting now that you point it out.”

Halsin smiles. “It suits you well, my heart. And it reminds me of the forest - of home. A fitting reminder considering that you’ve come to feel like my home as well.”

Tav’s heart skips a beat at his words, chest swelling with more emotion that she’s used to. She’s lost for words, unsure of how to return a sentiment that’s left her speechless.

However, a new song starts before she can speak, and Halsin’s smile widens. “We must dance to this,” he says, taking her into his arms again.

This song is even faster than the first as Halsin keeps them away from the large throng of dancers but still tries to guide her. Tav has trouble keeping up with the footwork of this dance, more so than the first one of the evening, finding herself tripping more than dancing. She also notices as she catches glimpses of those around her, that it’s only coupled pairs out in the courtyard. All of them follow the same moves and never switch partners.

“Is this a particular kind of dance?” She asks, following Halsin’s lead still as he guides her on the moves.

He nods, eyes falling to their feet as he moves her into another position. “It’s a song and dance common in smaller Druidic circles. Those bonded to one another typically partake to…stake a claim, I suppose is the best way to phrase it. To let others know who they have chosen as their other half.”

Tav can’t help the smile that splits her lips. “It sounds like a mating ritual to me.”

A warm laugh escapes Halsin’s lips, as they continue to dance. “It could be seen that way, yes. However, typically the mating is saved for more private accommodations.”

A spluttering giggle leaves Tav’s lips as Halsin twirls her, “Really? I figured you of all people would love to - woah!”

Tag lets out a gasp as her foot twists awkwardly on a raised cobblestone mid twirl, her arm tangled with Halsin in such a way that when he reaches to try and catch her, they both end up toppling over. Halsin is quick to take the brunt of the fall, Tav landing on top of him in a clumsy heap.

She presses up on her hands, hovering just mere inches away from Halsin as he looks up at her. His hands are on her hips, and if it weren’t for the laughter that escapes both of them at the same time, the moment could be almost intimate.

Tav shakes her head, eyes sparkling with joy as she moves to brush a stray piece of hair from Halsin’s forehead.

“I told you I didn’t know the dance.”

Halsin lets out a low hum. “You did perfectly well, my heart. Plus, I much prefer the kind of dance this position leads to than the others.”

Tav snorts out another laugh before pressing a quick kiss to the tip of Halsin’s nose and then his lips, smiling into the gesture before pulling away.

“I love you,” she whispers, nose brushing his own.

Halsin grins, “I love you more, my moon and stars.”

Then his lips are on hers once more.

And as the laughter and roaring of the fire fade into the background…Tav can’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be.

#halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin bg3 #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 #Halsin #baldur's gate 3

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navybrat817 · 4 months

Note

It's cold, Navy! What will our florist do about it?

Keep you warm, of course, nonnie.

Snowfall

Pairing: Florist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You refuse to go outside on a cold day and Bucky is more than happy to keep you warm.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Sugary sweet fluff and love, kissing, established relationship, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?)

A/N: Small ficlet for our florist.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You refused to step outside today. Between the bitter cold and thick snow covering the sidewalks and streets, you were more than content to stay inside and remain warm under a mountain of blankets. The heavy gust of wind that pushed against your home told you that you made the right decision.

Thankfully, Bucky made it back safely from the shop before the snow really started to come down. Anyone else would've appeared frozen to their core after being out in that weather, but he merely flashed you a smile after he shook out his long hair and stomped his boots off by the door. He even managed to keep a flower tucked carefully in his coat for you.

Always thinking of me.

“You know, there’s more than enough snow out there to make a snowman,” he said an hour later as he finished stringing up a set of holiday lights around the living room window, taking a step back to admire his handiwork once he turned them on. “Could be fun.”

You smiled as you set two mugs of hot cocoa on the coffee table. “I mean, we could do that,” you said, wrinkling your nose as he looked at you over his shoulder. “But I think I'd rather stay inside.”

He smiled as he turned to face you with his hands on his hips. Instead of his usual t-shirts or Henleys, he adorned a cozy sweater that made his eyes pop more than usual. Gazing into them was like viewing your own personal winter.

“Why? Too cold out there for your taste?”

You fought a shiver, your body temperature dropping from the mere thought of the outside air touching your skin. “Way too cold.”

“Aww, come on,” he said before he asked in a singsong tone, “Do you wanna build a snowman?”

You giggled at his cuteness, but shook your head. “Nope. I’ll freeze,” you said, lifting your chin as he raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going out there and you can't make me.”

The moment the words left your mouth, guilt crept in. What if Bucky really did want to go outside and make a snowman with you? When was the last time you did that? The two of you hadn't done much for the holidays yet, but you wanted to make the season special and not act like a Grinch.

He deserved better than that.

“What if I ask nicely?” He questioned, his eyes locked with yours as he stuck his lower lip out.

You faltered under his loving gaze and pout. He made you weak. You could admit that to yourself. “Okay, okay. We can go outside,” you relented.

“Really?” He smiled as he gestured behind him. “You’ll go out there?”

“I really will. Because it's you, Bucky,” you replied. If he wanted to go out there, you’d tough it out for him and bury yourself underself the blankets after. “But I'm warning you. I’ll turn into a popsicle if I do and you’ll have to carry me inside. And I demand all the cuddles after.”

“I’ll give as many cuddles as you need,” he promised, his easy smile shifting to a playful smirk, which was enough to make your heart pound against your ribcage. “And I don't mind giving you a few licks to make you melt, Petal.”

“Bucky,” you breathed when he took a step toward you.

Instead of moving closer like you expected, he walked toward your soft, oversized chair. He effortlessly moved it from its usual spot and turned it toward the window before he took a seat. “Come here,” he urged, patting his left thigh twice.

You fought a smile as you went to join him. He reached for your hand once you were close enough and pulled you unceremoniously into his lap, chuckling when you let out a sound of surprise. He wrapped a blanket around your shoulders once you settled into a comfortable position, allowing you to relax completely against him.

“I thought we were going outside,” you said, though you made no effort to move from your spot. Not when he was so firm and warm and smelled like heaven.

“We don't have to do that. I was just teasing,” he assured you, his scruff brushing against your cheek as you sighed and snuggled into him more. He could've said that to make you feel better, but you knew he’d never lie to you. “Why don’t we just enjoy the view instead?”

Your heart filled with unexpected joy as you looked out the window. You couldn't recall the last time you appreciated the allure of winter. Nature didn't need any sort of decoration, but the surrounding lights gave a colorful glow to the glittering snow that fell outside. It was like a silent dance, reminding you that there was beauty all around you.

Being in Bucky’s arms made it all the more special.

“Wow,” you whispered.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky didn't glance at the view. He focused solely on you with a gentle and content gaze, both in awe of your beauty and how he was the lucky man who got to hold you like this. Coming home to you after a long, cold day was the best gift he could ask for.

“Maybe tomorrow we can build a snowman,” you offered after a few minutes, tilting your head to smile at him. Heat flowed to your cheeks when you realized he was staring at you. “If you want.”

“Or we can stay in bed,” he whispered, placing his hand against your cheek in a gentle caress. “Keep each other warm.”

You let out a soft gasp before he pressed his lips against yours. The two of you stayed locked together as the snow continued to fall outside, his mouth leisurely moving against yours. Slow and tender, he practically made love to your mouth.

As soft as the snowfall.

“Love you, Bucky,” you breathed.

“Love you, too, Petal.”

And it was his love and passion that would always keep you warm.

He can keep me warm all night. Love and thanks for reading. 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 5 months

Text

London calling

Summary; Price is invited to a military event, you're his plus one. A night of socialising and teasing leads to a hot night back at the hotel.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Explicit

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot

Word; 12.5k

Warnings; alcohol consumption (drink in moderation), SMUT (18+ mdni), oral (m-receving), dirty talk, p-in-v, d/s themes, unprotected sex, captain!kink

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: Where's the nearest wall I can bang my head against? I need this man so bad and that's why you get 12k upon my return💀😭

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

If not for the Christmas lights dangling almost in line with your window, the quickly diminishing daylight soon would've shone with its absence within the room. Dusk was approaching, if not already present, but not with its rosy summer glory, but a gloomy and yellowy-grey sky of early winter.

Things were still a scale of grey and dark rather than white. Even though some stray white flakes had fallen when you arrived yesterday, they'd melted even before hitting the pavement. And, if it had been cold enough, pedestrians still would've trambled it into mush, and cars would've melted it with their heat.

You put on the small pendant earrings you'd brought as you glanced out the window and down at the people mulling about on the streets.

Most had shopping bags in their hands, everyone seemingly in a hurry. You didn't need to see their faces whip left and right to find the next store they could steer towards. The ant-like stir of people was enough to know Christmas shopping was in full swing.

A heavy breath escaped you, your eyes flittering back to the mirror.

You ran your hands down the fabric wrapped around your body. The material felt cool beneath your sweaty palms as you tried to brush out any wrinkles from the dress. Impossible, seeing how you'd gotten it from the tailor this morning and barely touched it inside its casing.

You took another deep breath, one hand raising until your palm rested over the centre of your chest, fingers draped over your bared clavicles. There's a prickling sensation beneath your hand, resembling the crowd's irregular movement outside. If you concentrated enough, you could almost feel how it vibrated, causing your heart to do an uncomfortable double beat that quickly pushed the air from your lungs before you instinctively inhaled.

"Not goin' to faint on me, are you, love?" Your eyes flicker sideways, landing on John as he emerges from the hotel room's bathroom.

"Might just now", you say breathlessly for an entirely different reason than the edginess causing the prickly sensation in your body.

The man now making his way towards you is the same one you travelled to London with. And yet, there's no jacket ladened with a furry lapel warming him from the chilly temperatures, no beanie atop his head to shield him from the consistent gusts of wind. Now, he's dressed smart.

Whatever event he's invited to is military in nature. So, while John mentioned that it was a black-tie event for civilians, it was ceremonial for him, meaning you would see him in his formal military uniform. But nothing had prepared you for how regal he now looked in his dark blue suit, polished black leather crossbelt with shoes to match, and the row of medals proudly displayed on his chest. The only missing thing was the matching hat pressed close to his body beneath his arm.

"Flatterin' an old man?" Your gaze locks with his again from having roved over his body, noticing the creases in the corner of his eyes as he stops beside you.

"You deserve every ounce of flattery when looking like that". You turn to John just as he settles one of his hands on the small of your back. In return, you raise your fingers, barely brushing them against the underside of his chin as you lean up and kiss him.

"Mhm, don't look too shabby yourself", he mumbles against you as you pull away from the brief exchange.

"Thank you". You turn towards the mirror again, eyeing yourself. "I didn't know if it was too much".

"Could never be".

You'd meant it to be a quick look, but your attention stayed on your reflection, eyes flittering over your form.

There were a few beats of silence until John stepped up behind you, the hand previously on your back sliding to accommodate the new position. You follow his larger frame in the mirror, simultaneously feeling and seeing how his hands settle on your hip.

"Nervous?" Those blue eyes meet yours in the reflective surface, knowing. You release yet another sigh, head ducking momentarily as you lean into the sturdy bulk of John at your back.

"Yeah", you breathe, the admittance not the first of its kind.

When the news had been brought up that John needed to attend some military event in London, you hadn't blinked twice. However, when he mentioned the invitation inquired about a plus one upon acceptance, and he'd asked you, you'd looked at him wide-eyed.

"There's no need to worry, love". John dips his head, kissing the juncture of your neck. "You know nothing is expected from you".

Your shoulders slump, hands seeking his as he wraps his arm around your waist. The weight was a pleasant pressure around your mid-drift while his skin was warm beneath your hand.

"I know, but-". You bite your lip, shrugging timidly, eyes meeting John's in the mirror. "It's a military event".

"Nervous 'bout meetin' some colleagues of mine?"

"Not just any type of colleagues", you mumble, making John let out a gentle chuckle.

"You get along great with the lads".

"That's when we're at the pub, not a formal occasion with a lot more of the same kind of people around". You huff in protest. Though Ghost wouldn't attend the event, Johnny and Kyle thankfully would. So, while John won't be the only familiar face in the crowd, that's still only three out of everyone invited.

"I just don't feel like I fit the picture". You shrug once, gaze dropping to watch you play with John's fingers. Your fingertips trail over his knuckles, then up and down his digits. Only when John interwines your hands does your motion stop and attention return to him.

"You'll fit because you'll be there with me". John's gaze was intense as he spoke, voice a steady, deep reassurance. "The lads nor I fancy these occasions, but we need to attend nonetheless. Your presence will undoubtedly make it more pleasant for me, at least".

You smile, craning your neck so you no longer watch him through the mirror but look up at him. John dips his chin in return.

"You're good at motivational speeches".

There's a chuckle before he nudges his nose against yours, moving closer. "Gotten good at 'em through the years". Your chuckle is sealed into your mouth as he slots his lips with yours.

Your muscles relax as you lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours and soothe you just like a warm blanket. Even when you part, you linger within each other's presence.

John was the first to pull away entirely, his eyes falling from yours as he did. You watch him take a step back, keeping one hand on your hip as he lets his gaze rove over your body.

"God, you're gorgeous", he mutters, taking a full once over before those blues lock with yours again.

You bite your lip, a smile breaking through nonetheless. "Would hope so. You helped me pick, after all".

"Anythin' to make my missus feel pretty". Your smile widens even more.

John had known you were nervous about the event, reluctant to even agree to be his plus one at first. So, he'd done everything to make you comfortable.

When you'd had half a breakdown while digging through your closet, only to find nothing appropriate to wear, John sat with you as you looked at dresses online. After seeing nothing that felt right there either, he'd booked a weekend trip to London to visit the tailor he usually entrusted when his formal attire needed a sow-up.

It had been your first trip together, strolling through the city, having dinners, playing tourist despite not really sightseeing. Though one of the days, between walking and dining, you'd visited the tailor's atelier.

For once, John only sat down on one of the plush armrests; no need to be attended to. Instead, it was your time in the spotlight, the storage manager ushering you to the racks of dresses, instructing you to pick whatever caught your eye to try on.

None of the dresses were especially embellished. Still, they weren't simple but elegant.

You'd switched between examining the dresses, showing John to get his opinion when you found any you liked, to testing them. Although he didn't complain once about you taking your time, chatting to the owner with an old familiarity, even you were tired when you found a dress that was just right.

However, the sluggishness only brought on by trying on clothes disappeared the second the owner had taken your measurements and you stood by the pay desk. A deposit was needed for the dress, and the rest would be paid on the day you picked it up. But the pre-payment had been enough to nearly make you baulk and glance at John to see if he was okay with spending so much. However, the man at your side hadn't even blinked at the number.

After you'd bid the tailor goodbye and exited the store, you did ask about it. Though not unfamiliar with John's gentlemanly fashion of paying for things, how confidently he answered left you at a loss for an answer, only able to shake your head with a smile when he offered his arm to you. 'I want to, love. It's the least I could do when draggin' you to this spectacle. Now lead me wherever you can find some jewellery matchin' the dress".

"Would you help your girl feel even prettier?" You hold up the necklace bought to fit the dress. God, he'd spoiled you rotten for this event.

"My pleasure". John threw his hat on the bed, overtaking the jewellery from you. With a slight move of his head, he signalled you to turn around.

Despite facing the mirror again, your eyes were cast down as you tipped your head slightly forward. The glittering metal links suddenly pass your vision as he raises it over your head, the necklace falling over your collarbones as he lowers it. Feeling his fingers brush against your skin, not long after, a barely audible click indicates the piece of jewellery is secured around your neck.

When you raise your head, your eyes immediately fall to the necklace, your fingers trailing over it. A smile slowly shifts your lips upwards as you follow the pretty drop down your sternum. The gentle bow of your lips remains as you turn, craning your neck as you pout your lips, insisting that John meets you in a kiss. And he's never one to turn you down.

"Thank you", you offer after the sweet peck of gratitude, to which he hums in return.

You feel how his blue gaze follows you when moving towards the desk that became your makeup table for the night. Even more so when you reach for the lipstick you'd saved to apply until now.

Crouching slightly so your face aligns with the much smaller mirror on the wooden desktop, you carefully outline your lips before colouring the rest until an even shade coats them.

"What do you think?" You say, straightening up again. As you press your lips together, you put on the lid and place the lipstick in your purse, all in the motion of turning to face the man almost transfixed with you. "Thought the red matched those". You motion with your finger to the ribbons, half-red and half-other colours, attached to his medals.

"It does". You parry the hand reaching for you with a shift to the side, knowing that tone of voice from John would only mess up your makeup.

He arches a brow at your move, but you only arch both of yours in return as you put your clutch beneath your arm.

"We'll be late", you claim. Even so, you can't deny you enjoy John's attention and the look in his eyes. He makes you feel pretty, desired. It completely overhauls your stomach's previous knots.

Deciding to tease him just the slightest, you pop your index finger much more dramatically than needed into your mouth, pursing your lips around the digit before pulling it out slowly, all whilst keeping eye contact with the man watching you. You smile at John after your finger leaves your mouth, now not afraid of red smearing your teeth thanks to the ring of colour around the middle of your finger.

"Goodness, women", he groans, hand trailing over his lower face. You can only giggle as you pluck a tissue from the box on the desk, rubbing off the lipstick as you slip around John. "Could think you want to be late".

You throw the paper into the bin beside the dresser as you pass it to the short hall leading to the door, flashing a much more satisfied smile over his reaction than previously graced your lips.

"Good things come to those who are patient. You just have to wait until after the event for me to paint something else a pretty red".

You catch another deep, grumbly sound coming from him, your previous display more than enough to conjure precisely the picture you insinuated.

As you turn forward, you chuckle again, plucking your heels from the shoe stand built into the dresser. What you hadn't anticipated was for your shoes to be plucked from your grip seconds later and to find John standing close behind you with his retrieved hat under his arm.

You send him a questioning look that he ignores as he kneels. Unable to do anything else, you shift to rest your back against the dresser and follow along when he taps his kneecap.

You raise your foot so the front pad rests against John's knee before he gingerly grabs the back of your ankle, and the pump is slipped on. He gives you time to find the balance on your now-heeled foot as he drops it before repeating the process. However, before letting you go this time, he raises your foot just slightly as he dips his head, kissing the lowest part of your shin, all the while looking up at you.

"Gonna hold you to your words, love", he declares, dropping your foot to the ground.

You swallow, going from looking down to up as he rises from the floor. "Don't mind if you do".

"Good", he kisses your cheek, heeding your desire for him not to accidentally, or very consciously, destroy your makeup. "Let us be on the way", he says, grabbing your coats from the racks.

***

The venue was beautiful: an old building with pillared walls, a second floor acting as a running balcony overlooking the ground floor and high vaulted glass roofs that stare into the dark sky above. You'd only looked down from the stunning decoration and lighting when you ascended the stairs to the main floor, lifting your dress to not catch on the fabric.

You don't know how long ago that had been, but since then, you and John haven't been given much time alone.

Each and every minute, the man who either offered his arm for you to hold or kept a hand on the small of your back introduced you to someone he knew in one way or another. Although politely greeting them with either a nod or a handshake, there were too many names and too fleeting conversations for you to remember any of them.

Only now did you get the chance to breathe. But rather than feel at ease for the momentary respite, you'd hastily moved from the midst of the crowd to the edge of the room where the table of aperitifs and drinks was, a plate filled with bite-sized food in your hands.

You would've shared them with John if he hadn't been whisked away a few moments prior. Albeit he'd been reluctant to leave your side, even when it was some affiliate from the U.S. who asked for a few minutes of his time, you'd reassured him it was fine.

You'd told yourself you could survive at least a few minutes without John and that the buffet could keep you company enough. And though you weren't as uncomfortable as you previously thought you would be, the thought of socialising with someone you'd either met already or not at all felt... awkward.

You wouldn't call it shyness. Far from it, you were curious about some of those you'd met who sported black smokings, cocktail dresses or gowns. But, out of those civilians you'd met so far, most of them were not like you.

Your sole connection to this event, to the military, was John. The other considered civilians had seemingly much closer ties, most acting as private corporate sponsors for military-tied causes through funds or services. While finding it interesting, you didn't know how much of the stuff was confidential, and you would much rather not make a scene just for some small talk. Neither did many have a plus one you could initiate a conversation with. So, the buffet became your company.

Your gaze travels over the mass of people as you plop the last canapé into your mouth. And as if the universe decided to be kind, you spot a familiar face lingering at the other edge of the room.

With all the new people John had introduced you to and recently also had to part from you to speak with, exhaustion was starting to creep up on you, along with the feeling of being lost in a crowd of still most unfamiliar people. Hence, you quickly discard your plate to instead grab two flutes of champagne before moving straight across the floor.

With people moving almost sluggishly, if at all, around the room, it was no wonder a pair of brown eyes combined with a friendly smile welcoming you met your long before you joined the very man whose attention you'd gotten.

"Kyle". The man nods in response to his name as you get close enough to greet him. The silent hello looks incredibly more formal while dressed similarly to John. "How are you?" You slow until stopping before him.

"Good as can be", his voice was light, making your brows raise upon the humour in his tone. He was the first of John's closest circle you'd seen tonight; Johnny had yet to arrive. Even so, by the looks of it, the Brit looked like he rather wouldn't be here at all.

Kyle carried himself straight-backed, faint smile in the corner of his mouth, one hand behind his back while the other rested along his side. And yet, despite the at-eased posture and expression upon his features, something told you it was entirely for show.

You chuckle, handing him the flute you'd brought. "Yeah, not really my setting either", you admit in a low voice.

Kyle cocks his head, smile widening as he shifts on his feet, accepting the drink you'd stretched forth. "What suggest I don't fancy this?".

"Don't know, but something about the all too delighted expression gave me a hint", you reply, sarcasm lacing your tone, on par with the amount that previously laden his sentence. That's the first time you see Kyle's shoulders drop somewhat as he chuckles, his posture less flawless as he looks more relaxed than previously.

You smile at his reaction, stepping forward to stand beside rather than in front of him. His brown gaze followed you as you did.

"Why ain't this your kind of setting then?". Your eyes fall on Kyle just as he shifts to look over the crowd.

"Too many of the older generation has gotten stuck and too comfortable behind their desks to remember what it's like out on the field. The rest are mostly snobs who think money and chest candy is our motivation". You bite your lip to stop the laughter rising from your throat at his quick remark. "Why isn't this your setting then? You fit in with the dress".

"Calling me a snob?" You raise a playful brow, a smile tugging the corner of your mouth.

"That you're here, talking to me, says enough", Kyle retorts, eyes falling on you.

You chuckle, but it turns into a sigh when your gaze breaks from his, fleeting over the crowd. "It just makes me nervous, I guess".

"Why?"

"Well, for the same reason as when I first met you guys". You glance at him. "Just feels like I don't fit in with all of you military people, especially now, at this event".

"Didn't do too bad of an impression on us back then. Especially not Price". You duck your head, a bashful smile bowing your lips that's still present when you look at the man at your side again.

"Perhaps not, but as you said, many here are high-ranking military personnel or snobs that are more difficult to get along with than you lot".

"Cheers to that", he chuckles, raising his glass of champagne. You mimicked his movement and raised your flute in a small tip, you both taking a sip from your drinks as they fell from their elevated position.

Your eyes glide over the crowd, and as if it's second nature, you search for John again. While having tried to spot him previously, you hadn't been successful. Although this time around, you find him.

"He's good at that". You observe John as he talks to the same man who'd whisked him away previously, though now they're also joined by a woman.

Your comment pulls Kyle's attention in the same direction as yours.

He releases a huff not soon after, the reaction making your brows arch and your head turn towards him. His brown eyes flicker down to lock with yours, a humorous glint in them.

"The old man is good at handling the higher-ups and other connections. That's why he does most of the talk for us". His eyes flicker sideways, probably towards the group you talked about, before they return to you. "Doesn't mean he despises it any less than the rest of us in most cases".

You turn to look at John, eyes narrowing as you closely watch him interact with the man and women. While he seems formal when talking to the man and more cordial with the women, he still doesn't seem relaxed. His posture is stiff, one arm bent behind his back as if wanting to pose fittingly to the occasion, his other hand clutching a champagne flute. Untouched.

Pissy excuse of fizzy water, he'd said once you asked if he wanted to share an old bottle you found in your apartment from god knows when, but acceptable enough that it wouldn't taste like the piss John labelled it as.

"That's why he brought you". Kyle's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. "He's going to use you as a scapegoat the moment it's deemed enough for him to be here". You bit your lip to quiet your snicker, shaking your head.

"He isn't", you argue, only partly believing it yourself.

"Oh, he will". Your head turned towards the new but familiar voice, finding Johnny, dressed similarly to both John and Kyle, approaching from the crowd. "Don't put it past him".

You immediately split into a grin. "Johnny, how are you?" You step forward, engulfing the man in a hug, getting anchored to the Scot's side as his arm remains over your shoulders.

"Think Gaz gave ya a brief 'nough for us", the Scotsman formally greets the young Brit with a raise of his brows and an upward nod of his head as he directs his attention towards him. Kyle only reciprocated the motion, not answering his question. "Ya gonna drink that, lass?"

You shake your head fondly, Johnny taking the flute of champagne from your hand as you give it to him.

"Drunkard", you mumble, rolling your eyes as he gulps down your drink, only to provide you with a cheeky wink when he's emptied the glass.

"Where's Price?" You're about to answer that he's socialising. But you don't get the opportunity before a voice cuts in.

"Savin' my missus from a drunk Scotsman, it seems". Your head snaps towards John's voice, a smile unfolding as you see him nearing your group while collective chuckles emerge from the men around you. "Easy on the drinks tonight, Sergeant". John's eyes switch from yours as he directs his attention to Johnny, the quirk of his lips now reaching his eyes.

"All stereotypes ain't true, Captain. Besides-". The Scot lets go of you, his arm falling as he steps to the side, giving John room to step into the semi-circle. As if you never left his side, his arm naturally falls around your waist, anchoring you to his broad frame again. "-can't get drunk on this, know it yaself", Johnny chuckles.

John hums in agreement, swirling the golden liquid in his flute with the hand hanging by his side. You tap his flank, and he looks down at you. As you motion for the glass with a nod, he gives it to you without any protest, probably delighted to get rid of the drink.

You happily sip it, your throat not feeling as tight anymore when John's with you and you're surrounded by familiar faces.

"How's the evening been then, Captain?" John shifts to look at Kyle.

"Not too shabby, lot of talkin' as always", he says. "Where the two of you been then?" His eyes shift from his fellow Brit to Johnny, who's standing with the hand not clutching the empty glass in his pocket.

"You know how London traffic is". Kyle offers with a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm not complaining about it this time around though".

"Only means you need to stay longer", John huffs, arm tightening around you. You can't help but shoot the younger Brit a look, an amused smile barely hidden beneath the rim of your glass. He cocks his head slightly, an unspoken 'what did I say' lingering between the two of you. "You two conspirin'?" Your eyes flitter back to John as he bumps his hip into yours.

"No", Kyle says as your eyes lock with the man at your side. John's eyes shine, a brow quirked in intrigue. It schooled the expression of rigidity he had previously, showing how at ease he became around his men despite the setting.

"What he said". You smile sweetly at John, fluttering your lashes, causing a ruckus of laughter around you.

"Be careful, Captain. That one is a sly thing". Johnny claps him on the shoulder.

"I know".

"Don't paint me in a bad light", you joke, nudging John's side with your elbow. The man in question chuckles when watching the pout you send him.

"The lot rub off on me", he indirectly chides Johnny and Kyle, both of whom make faux hurtful sounds upon the comment. "I better steal you away from them and introduce you to better company".

"Who could possibly be better company than us? The silent grump ain't here anyway". The Scotsman questions, glancing around the space with a humoured look until it returns.

"Laswell is better than the two of you together", John returns with a chuckle, his arm tightening around your waist to signal that you soon would be moving to meet whoever this Laswell was.

Upon what's apparently a familiar name, Johnny's brows jump upwards. "She made it here? Didn't think she would".

John only answers with an affirming hum. "Behave now", he offers in goodbye while you give them a wave before he tugs you with him.

As John directs the two of you through the crowd, you soon realise where he's taking you. The woman he's leading you towards is the same one he'd been talking to previously.

You give him a curious glance when you note she isn't dressed in any military uniform, only a long-sleeved jumpsuit. Even so, when you turn to face her again, the woman has noticed your nearing presence and turned toward you, eyes regarding you in a manner too in-depth to be a civilian.

Her eyes flicker sideways as you stop before her, most probably to the man at your side. It's brief but enough for her face to soften and a hint of a smile to quirk her mouth.

"Kate Lawsell", her American accent is apparent as her eyes fall to meet yours again upon the greeting. You're not late to shake the hand she stretched forth, introducing yourself in return. "So you're John's sweetheart?"

You shrug with a smile as you feel John's thumb start brushing circular patterns through the silky material of your dress. "Guess I am". She hums, the corner of her lip twitching a bit further upwards.

"Almost thought he made you up with the lack of evidence about his special someone".

You chuckle while practically feeling how John rolls his eyes. "S'no need to carry a photo with me everywhere".

"Expected it from a traditional one like you", she shrugs one of her shoulders. Their exchange makes you smile, head cocking slightly.

"So, where do you know each other from?"

"I work for C.I.A., deal a fair share with the 141 and that British Captain of yours". Your eyes widen, lips parting in a silent oh as your eyes shift to John, then back to Kate.

"That ain't half-bad". Your comment brings out a chuckle from the dark blonde woman.

"Say that when trying to keep any kind of leash on him". Kate nods towards John, a conspiring look in her eyes, one he gruffs at.

"That so?" You face the man at your side with an amused expression, catching the look he sends the woman opposite him. "Am I hearing that you're a nuisance at work?"

John's eyes flicker to you, his features softening as his head dips in a shake and small huff of laughter. "You women always like to team up".

Despite his comment, you talked with Kate for a few more minutes, getting to know more about her, until separate parties dragged her and John off. This time around, however, you got tugged along to the new conversation, with no choice but to remain glued to the brunette's side as he didn't let up on his hold.

Although relieved to stay with him again, your feet start to feel sore, and your body tired. Consequently, you slowly let John take more room in the conversation as you fell silent, still with a smile present to appear interested in the conversation.

You take a deep breath, careful not to let your exhale sound like a sigh. Even so, John caught it, giving you a brief look to check in on you. You spare him a glance, attempting a soothing smile to fend off any potential concern.

His eyes flitter over your face before he turns forward again, offering a chuckle at something the soldier said. You'd completely missed what it was but mimicked John with a much softer sound huffed through your nose.

You try to concentrate after that, as it's the only polite thing to do. But god, you find your mind wandering to every little ache suddenly emerging.

Shifting the weight on your feet subtly, you try to move your hips to ease the twinge in your spine. Unsuccessful, you straighten your back, rolling your shoulders to try a different approach. Through your peripheral, you notice your squirming caught John's attention again, his gaze flickering sideways momentarily. Soon after, his thumb starts rubbing the small of your back with slightly more pressure just to be a subconscious movement.

John had been attentive to you the whole night, but if you could catch his attention this easily, you had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't only your concentration that started to stray or energy to wither.

Even if you probably would do both of you a favour by asking if it was time to leave, you didn't want to interrupt their conversation, so you simply let your head fall sideways onto John's shoulder, content with feeling how his kneading thumb eased the discomfort in your lower back.

Thankfully, whoever this Miller was, he didn't keep a long-winded conversation with John as Generals had. Instead, the soldier of equal rank soon bid you both goodbye, explaining his departure as not wanting to take up too much of your time. That made your smile more genuine than it had been while listening to the two men for the last few minutes.

As you sigh lightly, a gentle press against your back suddenly steers you forward. You don't protest when John moves you through the crowd, especially not when noticing he's leading you to the outskirts of it.

"How you feelin', love?" John ducks his head to ask the question as your pace slows.

"I'm good, just a bit exhausted after standing for so long", you return with a shrug as you stop at the edge of the crowd, between the columns lining the wall. You tilt your head to look at John as he stands opposite you. Blue eyes meet yours as his hand moves to the dip of your waist before they skate over the crowd.

You watch John as he does, feeling his finger through your dress as they rap against you, almost as if thinking about something.

Gaze falling, you follow his profile: the slope of his nose, the sharp line of his jaw accentuated by the angle of his head, his beard shining with the oil he'd worked into it after his earlier shower. God, he's too bloody handsome tonight.

From nowhere, you get the urge to lean up and kiss the skin of his throat right above his collar. Though quelling the desire to plant a red mark matching the outline of your lips on his throat here, amongst all these people, that's all it takes for your mind to spiral.

Gonna hold you to your words, love.

His sentence from the hotel room echoes in your mind, and suddenly, you can't wait any longer to be the scapegoat Kyle had dubbed you. Sick and tired of this event already.

When you take a step closer to John, his attention is quickly pulled back towards you. With his now undivided attention on you, you lightly grab the tie tucked beneath his jacket, tugging slightly on it to straighten the material to its previous perfection a few hours earlier.

Satisfied with the minor fix you'd done to his attire, you pat his chest, eyes travelling upwards to lock with his not soon after.

John scrutinises your hands that remain close to where you'd fiddled with his tie rather than drop to your sides. When his blue gaze locks with yours, his head cocks. "What are you up to?"

"M'nothing, just wondering when it's acceptable to leave this event".

John's eyes narrow slightly before his brows rise. "Any special reason to why?"

"Just want to go back to the hotel". You made it evident that trailing your hands down his chest wasn't a coincidence but a conscious decision as you lowered them to pull your purse from beneath your upper arm. "Don't know what you're insinuating".

"You don't?" You only reply with a coy nuh-uh sound as you open your purse, pulling out the golden encasing housing your lipstick.

You'd touched up your makeup once throughout the evening, right after John left you to talk with whoever the American man had been, along with Kate, for the first time. As you do it now, blue eyes fall from yours, following your move of painting your lips in a new coat of red.

"You know very well what you're doin', love". His words are spoken slowly, but their edges are rough, frayed.

"Just playing my part as pretty arm candy". After putting away your lipstick again, you motion to your lips. "Want to help me so I don't get any lipstick on my teeth?" You form your lips into an o, knowing precisely what you're doing.

"Love...", he warns, fingers pressing into your waist.

"John?" You retaliate with a cock of your brow, only to shrug when he makes no move to help you.

Raising a finger, you place only the tip between your lips before pulling it out with a pop.

A repressed groan escapes John, head tilting backwards, eyes shut tightly. "You're doin' this to me on purpose", he grinds out.

"Of course I am", you giggle in return, using your other hand to rather unceremoniously rub away the red colour with your fingers. "So what's the choice? We staying a bit longer or-". You're not even allowed to finish the sentence before John's head tips forward again, and he does it for you.

"We're goin', now". His arm swiftly wraps around your waist to turn the both of you towards the exit.

"Can't play polite anymore?" You let yourself be carried along.

"Been plenty polite when all I've wanted the whole evenin' is to return to the hotel". John's hand scorches the place it pushes against the small of your back, guiding you straight to the very stairs you'd entered through hours ago. "Then you're pretty arse go about actin' up, provin' how much more I would've gotten done there than here", he grumbles, making you swat the side of his chest with a low, chastising John concerning the setting you're on. The man in question only sends you a look, daring you to argue against him, but after forcing his hand to take you back to the hotel, you can't.

There was a warm, eager air between you and John as you retrieved your coats and exited the venue. You shared glances, fleeting but heated locks of your eyes that had your body igniting. Touches setting you aflame even if his was much the same as throughout the evening but firmer, while yours were brief, teasing over his torso.

When John managed to hail a cab, he let you enter first, following seconds later and sitting down in the backseat with a low, frustrated sound.

He tugs his hat from his head, the other hand smoothening his hair. You both know there's a twenty-minute ride ahead of you when even half the time would've been too long and yet you watch him with amusement as his head thuds backwards.

He must feel your eyes on him as his head rolls to face you. You didn't need to say anything; your smile was enough to make him release a low, impatient grunt, eyes closing.

You chuckle, hand settling on John's thigh as you do. Apparently, he thinks there's an ulterior motive behind your action as his eyes snap open, sending you a warning look that, if anything, made you wish you had done something to deserve it. His large hand grabs yours to emphasise the message to not try anything, dropping it in your lap instead. Even so, he doesn't pull away afterwards, instead letting your fingers intertwine.

When finally rolling up to the hotel, John couldn't stop tapping his thumb against your hand as he paid for the cab, practically dragging you along when he exited the car.

With his hat in a white-knuckled grip and your hand in a gentler hold, the two of you moved through the lobby. You felt how fiercely John battled with himself to not stalk to the elevators but keep a pace that wouldn't draw attention and you could match.

It's always amusing seeing John like this, exhilarating if nothing. And that's why you can't help but poke the bear while waiting for the elevator.

You slip your hand from his, blue eyes immediately falling to you as your arm closest to him slides beneath his coat and around his waist, squeezing his mid-drift teasingly.

"Someone seems impatient". The end of your sentence is perfectly followed by the chime of the elevator arriving. Letting your hand drop after pressing your fingers into John's side, you stride into the empty space with a sway to your hips. "I wonder why". You look over your shoulder, a smile gracing your lips as you cock a brow.

John is hot on your heels, pressing the button to close the doors rather than waiting for them to do so.

Just when you turn to lean against the railing the furthest in, he takes the last step towards you, hands settling beside your own, caging you against the wall just as the door slides close.

"You should know what torture it's been havin' you this good-lookin' and unable to do anythin' the whole evenin'". John's words are rushed as his head dips close to your face.

"Ditto", you return in a hum, gaze flittering down and then up again. "There was a relatively empty second floor I thought about dragging you to".

"Fuckin' hell, don't say that", he groans, hand coming to cup the back of your neck, angling your face towards his.

Yet, before John can press his mouth against yours, the elevator suddenly halts on a floor too early to be yours.

He quickly drops his hand and moves so he doesn't corner you against the wall, even though he remains awfully close. Your eyes swiftly snap to the opening doors, schooling your features into a polite smile at the woman who steps into the elevator. She offers you a similar one before her eyes flicker to John. When they do, her eyebrows rise before they jump back to you.

For a few mortifying seconds, you fear she knows precisely what she interrupted until her smile becomes softer.

"If the two of you don't make a stunning pair", she remarks kindly, making John turn his head to look at her, his body still firmly angled towards you.

"Well, thank you", you answer for you both.

"My husband was also in the military", she directs the comment to you even if her eyes flitter to John when she continues. "But he never took me to those fancy events. The old man despised them like the plague".

"Seems like all of them do". You chuckle in return, patting John's side fondly.

The man in question remains remarkably silent, only muttering something under his breath. Your eyes switch to him, sending him a questioning look. Blue eyes return your stare as his head tilts to the right, just a notch, but your brows only pinch together, still not understanding what he's trying to silently get at. That is until his face sets and John angles his hips just slightly more into the upper part of your thigh, and you feel it.

You almost gasped at the considerable bulge in his pants that definitely would be in danger of showing. Yet, you manage not to, only letting your brows shoot up when you finally understand John's silence and the position he was adamant about keeping.

The woman, however, must have interpreted it like some coupley squabble as she chuckles at your interaction, pulling your attention to her.

"Young love, always so charming."

"Young?" John scoffs into your ear, his voice barely enough to be considered a whisper. "Got me feelin' like a bloody teen", he grouses over his predicament.

You duck your head, forehead falling against his shoulder as you muffle the chuckle bubbling in your throat.

While the man you hide your face against notices your shoulders jumping and sends you a glare, the woman again misinterprets your reaction.

"No need to be embarrassed. We've all been young once".

"Did you meet your husband young?" You shift the conversation when finally facing her, sure no trace of your previous amusement could be detected.

"Oh goodness, yes, even younger than the two of you", she motions to you and John with a wave. "Much more immature, too". You almost laugh out loud at that. And like previously, John notices, husking a low, pointed 'Don't laugh' into your ear.

"This one's a real gentleman." You turn to face John, smiling up at him despite being met by a stern expression. What the women don't see is the way your hand trails down, down over his stomach until the flat of your palm presses into the spot just above his groin.

John's jaw flexes, unable to snatch your hand and pull it away if not genuinely desiring to draw attention to what you're doing. But that doesn't stop his blue eyes from meeting yours as he lowly hisses, "And don't do that".

Then, the elevator suddenly lets out a ding as it stops.

"It was lovely to meet you youths, but this is my stop", the woman waves after the doors slide open, John craning his neck to watch her leave with a faint, for your eyes awfully forced, smile. "Have a great evening".

"You too!" You reciprocate her wave as she exits, receiving a friendly smile before the doors close.

Seconds, it takes seconds before your vision is once more filled by John.

"You... love-", he chuckles, nose scrunching as his head cocks to the side. "-oh, you are trouble".

"Don't be moody. You were called a youth", you chuckle. John only manages to open his mouth before the elevator chimes again, this time on your floor.

You know it was your saving grace from how those blue eyes had narrowed at you. Instead, he only exhales sharply as you grasp his hand, forcing him to follow you to the exit.

Although reaching the doors, you stall with one hand holding them open, peeking outside, head swivelling right and left down the corridor. Noticing the coast was clear, you tug John with you.

Even if no one was around, he walked close enough behind you that the slight problem in his pants would be hidden enough if you stumbled into someone.

Thankfully, you didn't meet anyone on the way to your room, sparing you from the embarrassing interaction that could've occurred. However, it enabled John to whip out the key card and more than a bit unceremoniously push you into your room once the light flashed green, the door barely slipping close before he chucked his hat to the side to pull you against him.

John's thick arm winds around your waist, pulling your body against his as his nose gently knocks against yours. Hot lips descending upon yours soon after, moulding your mouths together.

A groan vibrates against your lips, John's fingers digging into your ribcage and the side of your stomach. His near-desperate need to feel you against him makes your fingers curl into the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. The response is instantaneous, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he deepens the kiss. It's your time to release a pleased sound, something melting away from your body as hunger takes its place.

"Fuckin' hell", John nearly rips himself away from you as he grunts the words against your parted lips, hands enveloping your face as he lets his forehead rest against you. Heavy exhales puff against your face in an attempt to steady his heaving chest, to rein in himself. He doesn't remain like that for long, shifting backwards as his eyes flutter open.

John's gaze locks with yours, eyes considerably darker than usual. Sodalite rather than aventurine. A warm shiver runs down your spine, unable to continue meeting those blues due to the flush spreading through your body. And yet, despite the tangible tension, a chuckle travels up your throat when your flickering eyes halt at one spot on his face.

Your amusement and thumb swiping over John's lips to wipe away the lipstick now coating them in a faint red pop the feverish bubble, turning it somewhat softer, less desperate.

When the added colour fades, you finally lock eyes with John again, finding they've creased in the corners.

"Maybe we should get you out of this, so I don't go about tainting that, as well", you hum, fingers falling to toy with his white dress shirt, mindful to keep the thumb you'd wiped his lips with at bay. Only a deep hum escapes John, yet it's enough for you to make do with your suggestion.

Your fingers find the first golden button on his army jacket, unbuttoning that, then the next and all the ones until it falls open. Hands moving inside, you feel the warmth of his skin shielded beneath his dress shirt.

Your hands move up his chest, over his shoulders, until you move the dark blue jacket down his arms. John shrugs out of it, and while letting his wool coat drop to the floor, you're mindful of the jacket, grabbing it in one hand as you move him backwards by pressing your body against his, lips teasingly close but not kissing, only brushing as your breaths mingle.

When you're close enough, you drape his jacket over the chair by the desk before attempting to move on to the next piece of clothing. But apparently, you move too slow for John as he steps back, yanking his tie loose to tug over his head, throwing it to the side. The buttons on his shirt make a frustrated grunt leave him before it's tossed aside as well. While your eyes never leave him, you slip out of your coat, letting it fall to the floor with no greater care than he'd done his clothes seconds later.

Not only does your gaze drop to John's now-bared chest. Your hands move on their own, feeling him up, sliding over his pecs and the slight patch of brown hair covering them before they slide lower, over his stomach, reaching the happy trail beneath his navel. But too soon, your exploration of his burly upper body ends, John moving out of your reach as he steps backwards.

Not until his shins hit the edge of the bed and he sits down does he stop putting space between you.

You watch as his shoes are toed off, all while keeping eye contact with you. Not until John raises a finger, motioning for you to come closer, do you follow him.

You're about to straddle his lap when he stops you, making a twirly motion with his hand. Your head tilts even if you listen, turning your back to him. Gripping your hips, John steers you to sit on his thigh. You wobble slightly as you do, hands shooting to stabilise yourself by grabbing his hand and his other thigh as you press your feet to the floor to keep stable upon the muscular seat.

Once he notices you've found your balance, his big paws slide up your body until his fingers brush the back of your neck. There's barely an ounce of fiddling before you feel the clasp of the dress unhook, and the zipper descends.

Kisses are pressed against the nape of your neck, the top of your spine and a last one on your shoulder blade before John squeezes your hips, urging you to stand with a delicate push upwards and forward. As you do, the heavy fabric of the dress falls to the floor, collecting in a lustrous circle around your feet.

When turning to face the man whose attention never averted from you, only your necklace, panties, and heels are the remnants of your previous outfit.

"Always so fuckin' pretty beneath those things", John mumbles, hands rising from his sides. But, before his hands can reach for you, you settle one of your own on his equally naked chest, giving a gentle shove. But the brunette doesn't heed your want, not letting himself be budged an inch.

"Scoot up, John". You nod upward the bed, positioning one knee between his legs on the tiny sliver of the mattress available. He cocks his head in intrigue, hand grasping the back of your thigh, running up and down with gentle gropes.

"What you plannin', love?"

You press your lips together, John's eyes flickering downwards before returning in a slow trail upwards to meet your gaze. "Wanna be good after how I've teased you, Captain". Your voice drops, nearly entering a purr as you trail your fingers to his jaw.

You see him shudder, goosebumps flittering down his forearms as his big hand squeezes the back of your thigh.

"Fine then", John moves up the bed, and you crawl after him, effectively shrugging off your heels that thud to the floor as you do.

As he makes himself comfortable, you busy yourself with opening his belt and rucking down his pants and boxers in one. John's flushed and erect cock bobs upwards towards his stomach as he lifts his hips for you. Just as you rid him of his pants, you remember something.

When you scoot off the bed again, you haphazardly throw his pants over the same stool as his jacket, moving towards your purse. John props himself on one elbow, brows pulling together as he follows you.

"Thought you say you wouldn't tease, eh?" His voice is husky, verging on impatient as you look over your shoulder, watching as he wraps a hand around the base of himself, most likely not the touch he'd liked as a frustrated rather than pleasurable grunt leaves him.

"I'm not, just fulfilling my promise", you say, wiggling the lipstick you'd fished out before returning to him.

Moving up the bed, you settle on your knees between John's muscular legs. Opening the case, your gaze locks with his as you coat your lips in a more noticeable red. The sight makes his cock twitch in his hand, his head notching backwards slightly, resting on his shoulder, without ever letting those blues leave you.

You shoo away his hand when you're done and throw your lipstick aside, your fingers wrapping around him instead. A pleased hum vibrates from John's chest as he relaxes backwards, head settling against the pillows.

Although promising not to tease, you press a few firm kisses to the lowest parts of his stomach, along his adonis belt and the area just above the cock you're pumping lazily with twisting motions, colouring his skin with red lip-marks.

When satisfied with your work, you finally slot your lips around him, the sudden heat of your mouth making John's cock jerk, one of his hands instinctually shooting to the back of your head with a drawn-out groan filling the air.

Despite usually building up to a swift pace gradually, pulling out the process to build his pleasure, you don't hesitate to overwhelm John with how you drop an inch or two down his cock immediately, tightly sealing your lips around his shaft, doing everything to leave those marks you'd promised around his cock.

"Fuck". John's hips jerk upwards, not expecting the suddenness of your actions, though he manages to stop the full thrust by slamming his head backwards, hand tightening considerably at the back of your head.

A smugness fills your chest as you pull back slightly, suckling the tip leaking precum, tongue swiping back and forth over his frenulum while your hand creates slow, circular rotations at his base.

Through the lowest corner of your eyes, you notice the red rings around his cock, yet you steadily look upwards, following how John's head rises again, eyes half-lidded as your gazes lock. But those blues don't meet yours for long before they fall, the twitch of him inside your mouth and the near growl telling you he also spots the stains left behind by your lipstick.

"Those pretty lips makin' such lovely marks 'round my cock". The sound of his voice is so rough and delicious that your cunt clenches around nothing. "Such a good girl, ain'tcha, love?" You release him with a pop, but rather than answer, you collect your spit on your tongue, stretching it out as your hand moves upwards. Letting the glob of spit hit his cockhead, you coat his saft in the slickness with a pumping motion.

"Fuckin' hell", John rasps, sounding almost pained as his eyelids flutter close, head falling backwards. Your smile is brief before you slot your lips around him again, bobbing your head up and down half of his length, the rest squeezed and jerked by your hand.

"Suckin' me off s'good. Come on, deeper you go". He's not even looking at you as he speaks, his throaty words subdued into the air, almost as if he chokes on them halfway through. If anything, it makes you moan around him as you let the hand on the back of your head press you all the way down until he hits the back of your throat. "Jus' like that", he groans between clenched teeth.

As your tongue plays with the underside of his length and head bobs up and down, you feel him twitch violently inside your mouth, beefy thighs pressing against the side of yours, timbre-low sounds stemming from deep in his chest.

As John finally opens his eyes and looks down at you once more, always so transfixed with the way you desire to please him, he catches the faint glimmer of your jewellery behind the hand and mouth busy with his cock. The stones in the pendant glitter despite the room's dimness, the light from outside finding its way to make them gleam. What's remarkable is that your eyes harbour the shame glint.

Although heady with lust, your eyes are bright, excited, as your gaze meets his. The fact that you love this just as much as he does is enough to make him groan and tip his head backwards, wallowing in the pleasure creeping up his spine.

Only when a slurping noise fills the air as you suck purposefully and tongue plays the underside of his cockhead, does John's release hurtle dangerously close, and he pulls you off with a firm grip on your hair.

"I wasn't done".

"You're gonna be the death of me". That comment melts your stare into a smile.

"Don't die on me, handsome".

"C'mere". John's hand falls from your hair to grip your jaw, pulling you upwards. Your arms shoot to catch you, stabilising on either side of his body as he bends forward, crashing his lips against yours halfway.

It's dirty, your tongue slipping against John's as he pushes into your mouth, no doubt tasting himself on you. But it doesn't bother him, never has, not when it's on your lips that he tastes himself.

"You wet, love?" He groans against your lips before slanting his mouth against yours anew, your whined 'yes' going straight into his mouth. You unconsciously press your legs together, wiggling your hips, the motion along your forward-bent position exposing your drenched panties to the considerably cooler air. It urges another sound into the mesh of lips, a whine of discomfort this time.

"Bet you fuckin' are, love suckin' my cock".

A shudder runs down your whole back. "John-"

"Love bein' fucked even more, eh? Get on your back". The demand barely leaves his lips before you shift over his form, laying down just to the left of his previous position in the king-sized bed.

John moves between your legs, resting on his haunches as he pulls both your legs upwards, squeezing them together as he lets them rest against his chest. With a yank, he pulls your panties off your hips, the wetness on the crotch area dragging against the inside of your thighs as he tugs off the piece of fabric.

You don't know where they end up, wide eyes following John as he lets your legs down, pinning your thighs to the side, wasting no time before his hand slips over your cunt.

"Fuckin' soppin'", he drawls, confirming the answer you'd given him. "Can't wait to feel me stretch you out, can you?" His thumb runs down to your fluttering entrance, teasingly pushing against it. Before he goes any deeper, though, he collects some of your slick and trails his thumb to your clit.

He plays with your bundle of nerves just the way he knows you like. The pressure, speed, and everything he'd learnt about your body is now utilised to get you even more desperate, even wetter. And it works like a bloody charm too, your gasps soon turning to low moans and whines.

"C'mon, love, gotta be quiet", John shushes you, settling a hand over your throat, your necklace digging into his palm. He doesn't squeeze, simply rests it there to accentuate his point, and yet, he doesn't let up on playing with your clit, not even as your squirm, his thumb only chasing you through the movement. "Can't let everyone hear you, now can we?"

Even if you realise John deliberately must have kept his voice down as you blew him -because, of course, you're not at home- even if you try your damnedest, you can't contain your sounds of pleasure.

"Can't", you whine. John makes a deep sound, something between soothing and a snarl that makes your heart jump. Your eyes widen when his gaze darkens and he leans closer, all while his fingers apply more pressure on your clit, the pace quickening. As his face hovers over yours, your mouth falls open, letting out just one of those breathy moans he told you to hold.

"Can't, eh?" John releases your throat and leans back, but not enough to sit straight. Instead, he bends your legs forward and hooks his arm around your waist, manually flipping you over with a swift jerk. "That should do the trick".

It's a strength you know he possesses, but it makes you gasp in surprise anyway, the sound now muffled as your head is slotted in the crease between pillows.

Two big paws suddenly grab your asscheeks, groping the fat as you feel the man behind you lean over you just after widening your legs with his knees.

"Stunnin' fuckin' view from back here. This pretty arse-", John spanks your ass with one hand, making you keen, instinctually arching your back towards John. "- and your lovely cunt, just weepin' for me", the same hand that soothed the sting of his slap slide to your wetness.

You beg, a please moaned from your lips as he stretched you, barely any trouble going from one to two fingers with a few pumps. When he doesn't respond, you try again, louder, but only get a chuckle in return.

"Can't hear you, love". Amusement fills John's voice, making you frustratedly whine into the mattress before pushing a pillow to the side, raising your head only to crane it over your shoulder. Sitting behind you is an awfully smug-looking Brit.

"Please", you breathe the whisper, now mindful of your tone, which only widens his smile as he leans over your sprawled-out form.

The sudden prodding against your entrance comes without any warning, and you whip your head around to press into the mattress, muffling your moan so violently that John chuckles. But the sound swiftly deepens, evolving into a tight-lipped groan as he slowly pushes deeper.

Your back arches when his pelvis hits your backside, your motion prompting the slow grind of his hips against you. He doesn't even pull out, only rolls his hips shallowly against your rear.

All John can do is work his hips back and forth, listening to your faint moans slipping from the mattress your face rests against and the slick sounds of your pretty pussy being fucked.

When he leans his weight forward, hands gripping your hips, John shoves himself even further inside you, driving your face further into the bed. You practically sob, clit pulsing and throbbing and god—

"Fuck, you feel s'good 'round me". The lewd way he said it, a groan breaking the sentence into two with the unhurried sound of skin slapping occasionally, had you choking on an affirming moan. "Makin' such a mess. Pretty cunt's so wet, stretched".

John stuffs his fat cock into you with slow, even thrusts from behind, watching how you grip him tight when he pulls out and sucks him in once he pushes forwards.

It's slow until it's not.

When John loses patience, or the pleasure simply gets too much for him not to chase more, he changes the pace, making the curve of your ass jiggle against his hips with each shove of his cock into your cunt. You push your face into the bedding as far as not choking yourself goes, moaning throatily as you clench around him.

He fills you so deliciously like this. Each firm press of his hips against your ass crams his entire girthy length into you as his balls push against your clit. The rocking motion fills the air with wet slaps that make your head spin and fingers curl into the covers.

You moan unabashedly as he fucks you. Deep and fast enough that he needs to angle your hips, but when you just keep sliding back prone against the bed from the force of his shoves, John simply leans over you with a growl, fucking you down into the bed.

Whining, you thrash your head at the way he pounds into your sweet spot buried so deep. With your mouth falling open, it's no surprise if saliva soaks the fabric beneath your face.

Your orgasm doesn't even build slowly. It's a tumbling mess that, once it starts, just picks up momentum until you hurl face-forwards into it. It's so violent it catches John off-guard. The sudden way you shudder with a broken moan, the muscle of your back tensing, walls clamping down on him, everything without him even having to play with your clit, tells him you were just as worked up and exhausted as him, not able to do anything but let the pressure release.

"Fuck", he curses, thick and dark, feeling you get even slicker and tremble beneath his fingers.

Even through your drunken haze, you catch the drawn-out vowel of the word, which tells you John's close.

What surprises you, however, is that rather than rut irregularly into you until he buries himself deep and comes, his hand shoots to rest beside your head to catch his weight when he falls forward, slipping out of you in the process. Leaving your fluttering aftershocks to clench around nothing.

You feel as John jerks himself, his knuckles brushing over your skin rapidly. His breath cascades over the back of your head, head probably hanging low between his shoulders as he gazes down your body. Albeit not knowing what he has in mind -his fixation on spilling deep inside you as he pushes himself as close as possible to you no secret- you arch your spine, wiggling your ass upwards.

It prompts a deep, growling moan from him before his breath does a little hitch, then he groans, pleased and drawn out as you feel his release shoot over your ass and then straight over your pussy.

The bed quivers beside your head, all strength momentarily escaping John's burly frame that slackens against your back. Although he slumps to his forearm to keep most of his weight off, his other hand resting on the bed near the dip of your waist, he still presses you considerably deeper into the mattress.

John's heaving exhales disturb your hair, but your eyes remain closed, your whole body feeling light and satisfied as you relax, fingers uncurling from the covers.

When the man behind you finally moves, you don't have the energy to rise and look at what he does when he grabs your cheeks in his big hands, massaging the plush flesh with parting motions. But, you can only imagine he stares at the white ropes of cum coating your rear, gaze dropping to follow the way it dribbles down over your cunt.

Even if John doesn't do it for long, a pleased hum fills the air before he stops.

His hands are suddenly replaced with something that swipes over your asscheek and down between your legs. Despite twitching at the contact as it moves along your sensitive core, you release an appreciative sound as he wipes you clean of your releases. John replies by bending forward, kissing your shoulder-blade before shifting off you with a last squeeze to your hip.

Despite feeling the mattress dip beside you, his form slumping to the side with a low grunt, you already miss his warmth.

You breathe heavily, your exhale bordering on a whine warming the covers your face is burrowed in. When your sound gets nothing in return, your breath out softly again, hand searching for John. Just as your hand lands upon his chest, you catch a chuckle before fingers wrap around your wrist. You're tugged sideways, pulled partly onto the chest you'd fumbled your way to feeling.

Although now looking down at John, you don't see much of him, your hair is mussed enough that most of your vision is covered. A giggle escapes you while a huff of amusement passes through John's nose as he brushes your face clear of its momentary shield.

"There she is", John hums when your gazes lock with nothing in between. There's a tug in the corner of his lip, eyes lidded as he watches you.

The tilt of his head and craning of his neck is slow. The kiss he initiates is equally deliberate and sweet. Although the exchange is brief, as he parts, John lingers close to your face with his forehead resting against yours, hand brushing over your cheek feathery light.

He murmurs something low enough you can't catch but hum in return nonetheless. A few seconds later, he rises from the bed. As he does, you move to your back, wiggling beneath the sheets to not experience the cold, knowing the sheet must be warmed thanks to your bodies. A content sigh leaves you when you realise you've been right.

As your gaze settles upon John's bare form, rifling around his bag for whatever he's searching for, you can't help how your eyes trail over him. That's how your eyes locate the faint red marks littering his body, some more smudged than others.

Your giggle catches John's attention as he shifts towards you, a pair of boxer briefs now in his hands. But rather than meet his gaze, your eyes flitter over his form, numerous outlines of red lips littered along his lower stomach and groin. Your laughter intensifies, and John follows your line of attention, only to tilt his head upwards again with a smile when he finds what caught your attention.

"You look real pretty with my lipstick all over you", you comment once your laugh fades, head tilting against the pillow behind your head, eyes locking with John's.

"Quiet the artist", he chuckles as he pulls on his underwear.

"It isn't waterproof, so you'll be able to wash it off with water".

"Think about makin' one of 'em into a tattoo". John points to one of the still near-perfect copies of your lips just inside his hipbone and above his waistband. "Make 'em permanent". His wink makes your mouth fall open.

"Please don't!" Your revolt makes him chuckle.

"What do I get if I don't?"

"Me only asking for a pair of pants and not a shirt along with them. And cuddles?" You stretch out your arms towards John with your offer. He huffs a laugh, moving to your bag to dig through it for your underwear.

"Never sayin' no to half-naked cuddles with you, love", you shake your head fondly just before the clothing article you requested is thrown your way.

As John rounds the bed, you lean forward to snatch your panties from the covers. You barely have enough time to slip them on before John, with practised ease, settles into the bed on his side and pulls you close, naked chests pressed against each other.

You sigh in contentment as John's warmth seeps into your body, arms winding around his neck to get closer and being able to graze your nails through the hair on the back of his head, which makes him pull you even closer in return.

The moment drags on as you card fingers through his hair. Every now and then, you feel the gel he'd cursed over as he styled it before the event, still intact at certain places despite the overall moussed state of his locks.

Somewhere along the way, a hefty, pleased sigh leaves the man holding you as his head burrows into your neck, nuzzling against the necklace still around your throat. Your eyes flutter close upon the rhythmic breaths puffing against your skin, melting more into John's burly body.

"You're awfully cuddly tonight", you hum but make no move to disturb the peaceful air by moving.

"Could say the same about you".

You chuckle at the response breathed against your skin. "Can never get too much of you". A set of warm lips press a kiss to your throat, making you hum contentedly before continuing to speak. "Especially not after tonight when everyone's been fighting for your attention".

There's a few seconds of silence and then a sigh.

"More people goin' to fight for it soon". Your brows pull together at the sudden shift of air when John emerges from your neck, blue eyes locking with yours. "Before introducin' you to Laswell, I got informed we're set out on a mission."

You sighed, nodding at his explanation. It was only about time. "When?

"A week, but it won't be a long one". You perk up at that, John noticing, a small smile tugging in the corner of his lips. "Estimated to be back home before Christmas".

"Yeah?" He hummed an affirmative. Your smile twitched just slightly wider, unable not to press a kiss to his lips. You felt his chuckle just before you parted from him.

"Someone's happy about that". John's brows arched, head tilting to the side.

"Just... didn't have much planned for Christmas this year, so I thought about maybe asking-", you got interrupted by his lips pressing against yours this time. The passion with which John kissed you made your chest flutter.

"Wanted you with me this weekend just in case you had somethin' in the calendar or I wasn't home", he breathed against your lip when putting some distance between the two of you again.

You bite your lower lip, brows raising. "John, are you saying you wanted to ask me about spending Christmas together too?"

"Didn't know if it was an awfully traditional period for you", he said, giving you a half-hearted shrug.

"How sweet of you". You cooed, pecking John's lips, earning yourself a content huff from the man cocooning you with his arms and body. "But I would've wanted to spend some time with you no matter what". As you said this, that handsome smile of John's unfolds as he pulls you on top of him. He released a deep chuckle at your slight squeal, only for both of your sounds to fade as he stared up at you and you down at him.

God, you couldn't wait until Christmas.

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thatonegenshinsimp · 1 year

Text

Cold Mornings with a Warm Lover (fem!reader NSFW)

Notes: I knew I’d eventually go down this rabbit hole at some point, and now you all finally get to see who (some of) my favorite men are. I feel like it got a bit redundant but I hope you enjoy~

Masterlist

Characters: Capitano, Thoma, Diluc, Childe, Alhaitham, Itto

Warnings: NSFW, fem!reader, badly translated Russian (sorry for any mistakes), unprotected sex, missionary, riding, squirting, marking, size kink, belly bulge, creampie

NSFW content below, Minors DNI! By scrolling down past this point, you have decided to read the content below of your own accord!

Capitano

You woke up slowly on mornings when there was no work to be done for Her Majesty at Zapolyarny Palace. This was one of those mornings, and you enjoyed them even more with your husband, Capitano. He was a very closed off individual, but not to you. He confided in you often, trusting you with the things that bothered him. He, regardless of how strong he was, was still merely human, and had needs of his own. You were the one who fulfilled those needs whenever he went to you. He couldn’t have been more grateful, and he showed you how grateful he was to you last night. You were waking up slowly now, and leaned against him for warmth when you felt the freezing air outside of the sheets. He stirred slightly, but didn’t wake up just yet. You smiled softly, snuggling up to him to get more body heat from him. After a few minutes, you heard him speak. “You’re freezing, come here.” He said, his deep morning voice serving to make you squeeze your thighs together as he pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist and upper back. “Good morning, dearest.” He whispered, looking down at you as you leaned against him. His deep blue eyes peered down at you through barely opened lids, but he still smiled softly. “Good morning to you, too.” You replied, leaning into his touch as his hands gently caressed your skin.

He pulled back from you and looked you up and down, taking immediate notice of the slight bruises on your hips. “Apologies.” He whispered, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss as he pulled you up to where you were at his eye level. “Are you alright? I know I wasn’t very gentle with you last night.” He asked, reaching up to cup your face in one of his large hands. “I’m ok, please don’t worry about me. Last night was wonderful.” You reassured him, leaning into his touch as you pulled his face closer to yours and kissed him again. He balanced on his forearms and then sat up, exposing your bare body to the cold air and making you shiver. You curled in on yourself and wrapped your arms around your body, trembling from the cold. He immediately laid back down and was about to hold you again when he saw the red tint on your face and the way your thighs rubbed against each other. You looked to the side, embarrassed that he’d found you out, but immediately looked back at him when he put his hands on either side of your head and looked down at you, looming over you. His gaze was always gentle whenever it rested on you, and the same was still true now. You looked up at him as your face got even hotter. “Look at you, so needy.” He mused, before he spoke again. "May I?" He asked, causing you to nod softly. He pumped himself a few times before lining up his tip with your slit, dragging it over before he slowly pushed the blunt head past your entrance. Your eyes screwed shut as you took him in slowly, feeling him gently roll his hips against yours. You wrapped your arms around his middle, digging your nails into his back and leaving tiny red crescent moons in their wake. The moment he bottomed out, he stayed still, keeping his hips pressed against yours as he held your thighs down against the bed. “Good girl, taking me in one go like this. You deserve a reward for being so good for me last night.” You heard him say. “Do you think you deserve a reward?” He asked, causing you to look up at him with half lidded doe eyes as you spoke. “Y-yes, please- mmh~ I promise I’ll be good.” You moaned, looking down as you saw the outline of his cock almost going up to your bellybutton. “Ngh~ s-so full- ahh~!” You moaned, putting your hand over your mouth to muffle your noises, only for him to gently grab it and pin it beside your head. “You’re always so- shit- so good to me. Always taking care of me- Ngh~ Let me take care of you now.” He mumbled, his lips pressed against your neck as he spoke. You whined and clenched around him as you wrapped your legs loosely around his waist. Capitano gently traced your jaw with his hand, causing you to desperately lean into his touch as he kept going. You felt him, thick and heavy, dragging against your walls as red tinted his beautiful face. He pressed his forehead against yours as he started going faster, keeping a tight grip on your hips with one hand as he grunted softly. The other hand was busy drawing circles against your clit. The knot in your lower abdomen tightened as he kept hitting that one spot that made you see stars, chuckling as your eyes rolled back and you squeezed around him. “Mmngh~ m’ g-gonna cum- Ahhn~!” Your walls clenched around him tightly as his hips stuttered against yours. “That’s it, just let go, sweet thing. I’ll take care of you.” He groaned, his breath hitching as he twitched inside of you. With one last deep thrust, he buried himself deep inside of you and came, letting your gummy inner walls milk him for all he was worth.

You had tears in your eyes as you came down from your high slowly, relaxing in Capitano’s arms. “Th-thank you, mmm~ thank you s’much.” You mumbled, feeling him press his hips taut against yours. You jolted against him as he slowly pulled out, hissing softly from the sudden emptiness you felt. “Shh, stay still, I’ll clean you up.” He said, getting up and grabbing a warm washcloth from the bathroom. You laid there and let him clean you up, before relaxing against the mattress as he got back in the bed with you. “Rest, we’ll get up later.” He muttered, pulling you close to his chest and letting you lay against him as you sleepily nodded and closed your eyes, falling asleep in his warm embrace.

Thoma

There were few mornings when Thoma didn't have to head over to the Kamisato Estate early to tend to Ayato and Ayaka. He often left you to wake up alone, waiting for him to get back after doing your daily commissions for the Guild. Today, however, you woke up to his lovely green eyes looking at you as he held you close. "Good morning, my love. How are you?" he asked, watching as a soft smile appeared on your face at the sight of him. "What are you doing still here? shouldn't you be at the Estate by now?" you asked, suddenly concerned. "Nah, My Lord called off work for me today, and told me to enjoy the two week period of the Irodori Festival as I wished. I saw it fitting to spend at least the first day with my lovely wife." he said, leaning in and pressing his lips against your neck. "Thoma, stop, haha, your hair tickles." you laughed, causing him to smile against your neck as he kept kissing the soft skin. You threaded your fingers through his hair and gently pulled him back away from your neck. You then fell back against the mattress, panting as red tinted your cheeks.

You were about to say something, but your words caught in your throat as you looked up and saw the look he was giving you. His eyes were slightly wide, and had a sort of needy look in them, but he spoke again, anyway. "I was wondering what you wanted to do for the first day of the festival?" he asked, causing you to smile up at him. "I want you to keep me warm in this comfortable bed of ours." you said, starting to undress. You slipped off the pajamas you had on and sighed, before speaking again. "Because this bed has been very cold," you took off your underwear as you spoke, throwing them on the floor beside the bed, "without you here warming me up." you finished, watching as he scrambled to take off his nightclothes. He leaned in and kissed you gently, pouring his emotions into that kiss as his face went red. "Do you want this, though? I don't want to force you." he asked, his tone returning to gentle. You nodded softly. "Of course I do. It's you, and regardless of how many times you ask, I will almost always say yes." you replied, reaching up and cupping his face in your hands. "I love you, Thoma." you whispered, bringing him closer to where his tip was pressed against your entrance. You gasped softly when he slid in quickly, eyes going wide as he lifted your body before settling you on his lap. "That's it, jus' stay still, please. M'gonna cum if you keep sucking me in like this- hah~ s'good." he moaned, rocking into you to further stretch you out. He always kept you in mind whenever he made love to you in the morning like this. "Mmhng~ Thoma- hnn~ s'big- ah~!" you squealed when he reached down and rolled his thumb against your clit, drawing out those pretty noises he loved hearing you make. "Look at you. Have I ever told you how pretty you look under me like this?" he asked, pressing his lips against yours as he bottomed out with a groan. You moaned into his mouth, relaxing against his chest as you started to adjust to him. "You look so good taking me like this. I just wanna keep going and- ngh~ never stop." he grunted, bouncing you on his lap as you held onto his shoulders tightly. "Thoma, f-feel- mmnh~ feel you s-so deep. So deep inside- ahn~ me!" you yelped, noticing how his hips were stuttering against yours as he kept moving. "Yeah? It feels good? Do I make you feel good?" he asked, causing you to nod softly. After a few more minutes, you felt your orgasm hit you full force, making you tremble against his chest as you came. "Thoma, m'cumming, cumming- anhmm~!" you moaned loudly, hiding your face in his neck when he came with you. "There we go, nice and warm, just like you wanted, right?" he asked, watching as you nodded mindlessly. He felt you clenching around him and grinding your hips back into his, milking his cock for all it was worth, and he gladly held you against him, keeping your hips against his. He was always so gentle whenever he had to pull out, but instead, he stayed inside of you, hiding his face in your neck and kissing your soft skin. "Did I do good?" he asked, watching as you looked up at him and nodded. "Mhmm~ it felt s'good, still feels s'good. Don't pull out yet, please." you begged, looking up at him with pleading eyes as he looked back down at you. Thoma's face reddened as he buried his face in your hair and sighed.

"If you insist, my love."

Diluc

You woke up slowly next to your husband, watching as he stirred slightly in his sleep and pulled you close to him as he continued to sleep. Diluc mumbled your name sometimes in his sleep, which you adored very much. His hair tended to stick to his face, and got messy from him moving around a lot when he slept. However, he also had a tendency to sleep with almost nothing on, sometimes going to bed completely undressed, because his Vision made his body run warmer than most. You didn't complain about it though, you loved it whenever he held you close and warmed you up.

Diluc had gotten back late last night, and only had time to shower and dry himself off, before all but dragging himself to the bed and falling asleep next to you. He didn't have any work to do today or for the next two weeks, since it was the time for the Windblume Festival to arrive again. You had made a new pair of gloves for him after he wore out and tore his old ones, and planned to give them to him today, but after seeing him look so peaceful, you decided against waking him up. Unfortunately, he was a light sleeper, and soon peeked his red eyes open before catching sight of you awake in his arms. He often worked himself to the brink of collapse, but he always worked very hard, and you respected that very much. You loved that he wanted to help people, but sometimes, he put too much on the line for people you didn't think deserved his kindness, help, or his time. You were willing to admit that you were selfish in this regard, because if there was one thing you were always lacking, it was time with him.

"Good morning, my love, did you sleep well last night?" he asked, reaching for your hand and gently bringing it up to his lips. He gently kissed your knuckles, pulling you close to him as you giggled softly, a heartwarming sound to his ears. "I did, and you?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his neck and snuggling up to him as you shivered from the cold. "Are you cold? I'm sorry I didn't notice before now." he apologized, causing you to shake your head. "You can make it up to me by warming me up now." you proposed, intertwining your leg with his as you brought your hand up to gently cup his face. His cheeks burned red as he looked at you. You undressed and threw your nightclothes on the floor, pushing him onto his back as you spoke. "You've been working so hard, always attending to the needs of others, but what about yourself? You need to take care of yourself as well, Diluc. So, this morning is about you, since it is customary to give your lover something during the Windblume Festival. And I think that this is far better than any other gift you can give me." you said, leaning down and kissing him again. You pulled away and saw the way he was looking at you, his red eyes filled with pure love and adoration you knew he only ever held for you. "Please." he whispered, gently grabbing at your thighs as he spoke. "I could spend more time teasing you, but you've been through enough lately, haven't you?" you asked, causing him to nod. Diluc's grasp on your hip was firm when he slowly slid into you, his fingers reflexively digging into the skin slightly as he kept pressing into you. His grip only loosened when he was fully sheathed inside of your tight cunt, holding you close to him as you slowly adjusted to the stretch. "Mmh~ sorry if it hurts." he groaned, rolling his hips against yours as he dragged against your velvety walls. "Hah~ s-stay still. I'm the one- ah~ taking care of you here, remember- hnng~!" you moaned softly, balancing on your forearms as he looked at you. You slowly sat up and gently pressed your palms against his chest as you started bouncing on him. You rocked against him, feeling his tip hit your cervix and his shaft drag against your sweet spots. "Please let me- ngh~ let me help, I wanna make you feel good, too." he whispered, threading his fingers with yours as he thrusted his hips up to meet your bounces. You tightened around him, before nodding softly. He slowly sat up and pulled you close to his chest, his hands smoothing down your hips before he started moving them for you. He felt you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against his as he twitched inside of you. "F-feels s'good, 'Luc, wanna stay like this with you forever. Feels s'deep- ahn~!" you cried out as he sped up, leaning in close and pressing his lips against your neck before biting down on the spot where your neck and shoulder met. He could feel you clamping down on him as his eyes rolled back slightly, but he refused to lose himself to pleasure just yet. He wanted you to cum first, and only then would he think of his own needs. Well, he did, until you spoke again. "Please stay in, lemme feel you inside, wanna feel you in my tummy- ahhng~!" you whined softly, before feeling him roll you over to where you were beneath him. He couldn't help the swell of satisfaction in his chest when the first few tears in your eyes fell, catching them with his thumbs as he kissed you. "As you wish, dearest." he whispered, watching as you shivered and sobbed his name when you came, trembling beneath him and squirting all over him. He came not too long after, pressing his hips as close as he possibly could to make sure none of his cum could slip out. "Shh, you did so good for me, dearest." he felt you start clenching around him, squeezing him tightly as your gooey walls milked him. "Hnn~ fuck you're always so good to me." he whispered, holding you close as you clung onto him. "Sweetest thing on the face of Teyvat is you, and nothing else." he whispered, a love-drunk smile on his face as he rolled over onto his back and kissed your lips.

This truly was the perfect morning.

Childe

Childe's eyes opened slowly as pale sunlight peeked through a crack in the curtains where they met, hitting his face directly as you slept soundly in his arms. Last night was a long one, and filled with his whispered declarations of love for you, and the noises of your lovemaking. Although he occasionally liked to play it rough, he hadn't been back in Snezhnaya for quite some time, and you'd missed him dearly while he was away. The only reason he was back was because of the preparations that had to be made for Signora's funeral, but he'd arrived back a few days earlier than anticipated, and that was fine by him. He was grateful for the extra time he got to spend with you now, and he was very willing to show it.

Childe was broken from his trance when he felt your body stir against his, looking down and seeing you open your eyes slowly to gaze up at him. "Ajax, you're still here." you breathed, pulling him close to kiss him. His lips slotted perfectly against yours, and you used the opportunity to push him onto his back and start streddling him. "What's the matter? Couldn't get enough of me last night?" he asked teasingly. You tangled your fingers in his ginger hair and tugged on it lightly as you kept kissing him. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you." you whispered, causing him to smirk at you. "Careful, those are some dangerous words you're saying. I don't know if I'll be able to keep my hands off of you if you keep talking like that." he said, causing you to giggle softly. You leaned in and nibbled on his earlobe. "What if I don't want you to, hm?" you asked.

Your words flipped a switch in his brain that told him to pin you down and make you eat those words. "If you insist, lyubov'." he said. In an instant, he had flipped you over to where he was on top of you and you were on your stomach. "Tell me if it hurts, ok?" he asked, his voice suddenly much softer than it had been mere seconds ago. "Mhm." you hummed softly, before gasping when he slid two fingers into your wet cunt, scissoring them to stretch you out. "Ajax- ngh~!" you jolted slightly, your hips pushing back against his hand as you grinded your hips against his fingers. "That's it, just like that. I promise, I'll take good care of you, girlie, just leave it all to me." he said, adding another finger and curling them to hit your sweet spot as he leaned down and kissed your neck. "HAh~ please- nmm~ please lemme cum- ahH~!" you gripped the sheets and pleaded softly, causing him to huff in fake annoyance before he spoke. "Alright, I guess I'll let you." he said, moving his hand much faster now. Your grip on the sheets tightened as you got closer to your orgasm, a loud whine escaping your lips as you tightened around his fingers and came.

You were about to relax when you felt him pressed up against your entrance, and looked back at him to see that he was smirking. "Don't tell me you're tuckered out from just that. I still have to cum, and you did say that you didn't think you'd ever get enough of me. How about we test that, yeah?" he asked, causing you to nod softly as your face reddened. He slid in slowly, not wanting to cause you any unnecessary pain, and let himself rest against you as you adjusted to his size. "Tell me when I can- shit- when I can move, ok?" he asked, his deep cerulean eyes trained on you as you nodded, signifying that you'd heard him. You waited a few minutes before pushing your hips back against his, gasping softly as you clenched around him tightly. “Mnh~ Ajax, move please.” You begged, feeling him start to slowly move. He got back on his knees and rocked his hips against yours, his tip knocking up against your cervix as you whined and moaned softly. He leaned down and gently grabbed your hands, biting his lip as you melted into his touch. He reached down and grabbed one of your legs, tugging you against him as he grunted softly. You rolled your hips against his slowly, but he refused to let you move as he pinned you down and started moving. "I wanna take care of you, girlie, so don't move too much, ok?" he asked. You mindlessly nodded as he started fucking into you slowly, not wanting to ruin the peaceful atmosphere that the morning had given the two of you. "Mmm~ Such a good girl, yeah? Take it all, pretty thing." he whispered, his voice, deep and demanding, caused your sensitive body to shiver slightly. "Aww, is my pretty girlie still cold? Don't worry, I'll warm you up and make you feel nice and f-fuck- full." he groaned, his eyes rolling back as his spongy tip hit your cervix and caused you to clench around him. "I love it when you're like this, so- ngh~ soft and warm and- hnn~ tight. I just wanna stay inside of you forever- ah~!" he moaned, hitting the spots that made you see stars. "Ajax, m'gonna- ahhn~ m'gonna cum again- ahHNg~!" you buried your face in the sheets and wailed his name as you came. Ajax groaned loudly as he grabbed your hips and harshly tugged them against his, fucking you through your orgasm as you wrapped your legs around his waist. "Hnng~ You sure you want it inside- hAHn~?" he asked, causing you to look back at him and nod through teary eyes. "Mhmm~ Wanna be so full. Wan' you to fuck me f-full- nghaa~!" You were cut off by him shoving his cock deep inside of your fluttering cunt and cumming, rocking his hips against yours as he reached for your hands and held them in his own. "ahhnm~ Good girl, just like that. I can feel you milking me dry. Do you feel warm now?" he asked, his voice teasing as you huffed softly and buried your face in the sheets again. After a few more minutes, he rolled you over to face him and sat up with you in his arms. "Do you wanna get in the bath together?" he asked, causing you to nod softly. "Mhmm, stay with me, please?" you asked, causing him to nod. "Of course, lyubov', do you want me to clean you up?" he asked, receiving a soft nod from you in response. You watched as he sighed, nodding softly before he pulled out slowly. You sighed softly, hiding your face in his shoulder. "Ok, come on, you look exhausted." he said, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. He always took care of you, and you were oh so grateful for it this morning. "Perhaps we can have another round when you're up for it." he whispered, causing you to tense up against him as he dried you off. "Your choice, lyubov'." he whispered, laughing when you swatted at his chest as he laid down in bed with you once more. You relaxed in his arms and dozed lightly while he held you close to him, his head on top of yours as he dozed off with you.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham is a lazy individual in the morning, especially when said mornings consist of you. He didn't know he could fall so deeply in love with a person like you, but here he was, the morning after his one year wedding anniversary with you, laying beside you and blissfully naked. He reached out and brought you closer, wrapping you up in his arms and burying his face in your neck as you slept. This caused you to stir in your sleep, before opening your eyes as he kissed your neck repeatedly. "Careful, we might just have to continue last night if you keep doing that." you muttered, causing him to chuckle softly. He then pulled away from your neck and gazed down at your flushed face as he spoke, looking into your (E/C) eyes with all the love and adoration you think you've ever seen in anyone's gaze. "I love you." he whispered, caressing your cheek as you leaned into his touch. "Shouldn't you be getting up? I thought you had work today." you said. "I think the Akademiya can survive without me for a day." he muttered, hiding his face in your neck. "Mmh, but I thought that you had work." you observed, causing him to shake his head as you stretched. "Are you sure you want to get up? It's pretty cold this morning, you know." he looked at you as you huffed a laugh. "No it's not, this is Sumeru, and there's no way that it can get worse than the winters I've been through in the north. Here, I'll- shit- it's freezing!" you had thrown the covers off of yourself, but immediately bundled up under them again when you felt how cold it was. "Why is it so cold this morning? We're in a tropical climate, we should be sweating." you muttered, snuggling up against him. "Sweating from the heat or sweating from sex?" he asked, causing your face to redden as you glared at him. "Only kidding, unless that's an invitation to ravage you more than I did last night.” He said, bringing you closer to him and pressing his lips against yours. “Mmn~ only if you go slow this time. You were very rough last night.” you said, watching as Alhaitham’s eyes widened slightly. “Apologies, I didn’t know you didn’t like it.” He said, suddenly much quieter than before. “Oh, no, that’s not why I’m saying that. Last night was wonderful, I’m just saying that I’m still a bit sensitive is all.” you explained, causing him to nod. "Well, seeing as you're up for it." he said, gently pinning you down against the bed as he spoke. "We can stop if it gets to be too much for you, alright?" he asked, causing you to nod softly. "Ok." you mumbled.

His hips rolled against yours slowly as he lavished your neck with gentle kisses. You never thought him to be such a romantic before getting into a relationship with him, but then again, he was a man full of surprises. Alhaitham had his hands on your hips as he groaned softly, feeling your legs wrap around his waist as he rocked you against him. "HAh~ Mng~ right there- aHhn~ please, 'Haitham~" you whimpered softly, hiding your face in his shoulder. He looked down at you and linked his hands with yours, watching as you sighed softly against his neck and melted into his touch. You thrust your hips upwards against his, meeting his thrusts with the same force as he grunted softly. "You're making it really hard to- ngh~ to hold back, y'know." he murmured, sighing softly. "Nnh~ 'Haitham, s'big- ahhn~!" you were babbling praises at this point, unable to think straight from the overwhelming stimulation your body was receiving. "M'gonna- hnng~ AHhn~!" you locked your legs around his waist as he brought you closer to the edge. "Go ahead, let go, I've got you." he whispered, holding you close as you reached up and tangled your fingers in a mess of silver hair, dragging him down to press your lips against his as you came. He kept going, half lidded teal eyes gazing down into your own as he pressed his hips against yours. "Shh, s'alright, I've got you." he groaned softly as he came tumbling over the edge into bliss with you, holding you close as the two of you rode out your highs together. Alhaitham kept you close as he slowly came down, looking down at you as he spoke. "I'd say, personally, that I'm pretty warm now, what about you?" he asked, chuckling when you laughed softly. "You're the worst." you murmured, looking up at him. You put a hand against his chest and laid down on his chest, your breathing slowing slightly as you relaxed in his arms. "Yes, I'm much warmer than before." you mumbled sleepily. Just as you were about to fall asleep, you and Alhaitham heard someone banging on the door. He scowled as your face reddened from embarrassment, hiding your burning cheeks against the warmth of his chest as you both heard a voice on the other side of the door. "Hey, keep it down! I pulled an all-nighter last night, and I can't get a proper rest when all I can hear is the two of you going at it like rabbits! Keep it down next time!" Kaveh shouted. "If you don't like the noise, the streets are another option you could consider!" Alhaitham shot back, smirking when he heard his roommate's frustrated grumbles on the other side of the door. He settled down under the covers with you once again, looking at you and slowly falling back into the clutches of sleep as he pulled you close to his chest once again. After all, this all started because you were cold, right?

Arataki Itto

It usually got cold during Inazuma’s winters. You were very thankful for your lover for this reason. Itto was like a heater, warming you up quickly and keeping you warm to the point of overheating sometimes. At present, you were waking up after a long night of hanging out with him and the rest of the Arataki Gang. You were considered an honorary member, and the gang’s medic of sorts. Your Vision allowed you to heal people, which came as a great surprise to Genta and Mamoru. Akira and Shinobu and, of course, Itto, already knew. Regardless, you were sometimes left behind whenever they went into town, but Shinobu always promised that she’d make sure everyone was safe at the end of the day.

You slowly opened your eyes and rolled over, coming face to face with your sleeping boyfriend. He had an arm over your waist, his other arm serving as a sort of pillow for you. You knew it was numb from lack of circulation by now with how long you've probably been laying down on his arm, but he probably didn't care all that much. You slowly traced the red Oni markings on his chest, a habit you'd picked up after the many times he'd fallen asleep shirtless next to you, which still happened quite often. You pushed yourself up onto your forearms and sat up, shivering and immediately getting back under the covers when the cold hit your skin. Your movements woke up your boyfriend, whose eyes cracked open and caught sight of you shivering. "Hey, what's goin' on? Are you cold?" he asked, his raspy morning voice hitting your ears and causing you to laugh. "C'mere, I'll warm you up." he offered, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you as you spoke. "With how warm you are, I should tell everyone to call you Arataki Heat-o, since you're so warm." you mumbled, giggling as you rested your head on his chest. He huffed, poking your cheek before rolling over and pinning you down against the bed as he spoke. "You makin' fun of me? Huh?" he asked, staring you down. He had yet to notice his knee between your legs, or the fact that in this position, you were completely at his mercy with your wrists pinned over your head. It was only when your face reddened and you shuddered under his gaze that he noticed what was going through your mind. "Ohoho, so that's what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, is it, sweetheart? Is that how you wanna be warmed up?" he asked, causing you to look to the side to try and hide your embarrassment. "Hey, what's got you lookin' away all of a sudden? Look at me." he coaxed, smiling down at you when you nervously looked back up at him. You could tell he wanted you just by looking at him, his gaze almost carnal as he stared you down like a feast for a man starved. "Say it, sweetheart, just say the word, and I'll make you feel so good, I promise. You can even nod if you want to." he whispered, pressing his lips hotly against your neck. Your face heated up as he spoke, his gaze intense as he stared at you, but you nodded wordlessly, telling him what he needed to know.

"You wanna take it slow this morning?" he asked, causing you to nod again. "Alright, we can do that." he reassured you, cupping your face with one of his hands. "I wanna make sure you feel good." he muttered. Usually, outside of the bedroom, he was the center of attention, with all eyes on him and all heads turned in his direction. That all changed when it came to you. He wanted to please and praise you, and he would make everything about you if he could. This was one of the things he usually made about you, and you were happy to oblige his wishes so long as his requests of you in return weren't too outlandish. Itto pulled back and slid his sweatpants off, throwing them on the floor before moving on to help you undress. He threw your nightclothes and undergarments on the floor before leaning down and kissing you, sliding his warm palms up the expanse of your thighs. He lightly dug his nails into your skin, kissing from your lips to the curve of your jaw and down your neck. Your breath hitched and a quiet gasp fell from your lips at the sensation of his sharp fangs digging into the skin of your shoulder as he bit down. He sucked at the skin and left several more bite marks all over your chest. He spread your legs and dragged himself over your slit, causing you to shiver. “You ready, pretty girl?” He asked, receiving a nod in response as you reached up and grabbed his shoulders. “Mhmm~” you hummed, tensing up as he slowly pushed the tip in. He kept you pinned down against the bed as he rocked his hips against yours, panting softly. “Hnn~ it h-hurts.” You whined, reaching up and tangling your fingers in his hair. You tugged at the white strands when he went deeper, yelping softly as his tip grazed against your cervix. He bottomed out after a few minutes, groaning softly as he kept himself still. You pulled him down and pressed your lips against his, tilting your head to the side slightly. He waited for you to adjust, slowly rolling his hips against yours once he was sure you would be alright. “Look at you, pretty girl, you’re s’good for me. Jus’ keep takin’ me like this, please.” He whispered, his sharp nails digging into your hips as he started to slowly thrust into you. He let go of your hips as he pressed his forehead against yours, sliding his hands up to hold yours. “Ahh~ mngh~ Itto, please- nnm~!” He grabbed one of your legs and lifted it over his shoulder, giving him access to a deeper angle. His tip bumped up against your cervix as your back arched and you pressed your body against his. Itto held you still by keeping a firm grip on your leg, reaching down with his now free hand to pinch and roll your nipples between his fingers. “Does it feel good? I wanna make sure you feel good, because you make me feel s’good all the time.” He slurred, chuckling softly as you wrapped your other leg around his waist. “You gettin’ close?” He asked, twitching inside of you as you slowly lifted your hips to meet his thrusts. “Mhmm~ please, in, I wanna feel you inside, please.” You whimpered. He looked down at you and noticed the desperate look in your eyes, before gently cupping your face in his hand. “You want me to fill you up? Want me to fuck you full, sweetheart?” He asked, smiling softly as you nodded. He bit his lip and picked up the pace of his thrusts, holding you down as he got closer to his orgasm. “Th-thank you, mmm~ love you s’much- AHhng~ Itto- Hnn~!” You wailed his name as your orgasm hit you full force, shaking against his bed as you came. “Shh, shh, take it jus’ like that, you did so good for me.” He muttered, pressing his hips tightly against yours. You wrapped your leg around his waist and your arms around his neck, kissing him again as he fucked you through your high. He groaned loudly against your mouth as he jerked his hips against yours, pulling away and hiding his face in your neck as he sank his teeth into your skin again. “Mmnh~ good girl, squeezin’ me so- fuck- s’good. You did s’good for me.” He mumbled, wrapping your arms around you as he held you close.

Itto rolled over onto his back, sighing softly as he relaxed. You all but collapsed onto him, leaning against him for support. After a few minutes, he spoke. “Are you alright? Sorry, I kinda got carried away.” He chuckled softly, resting his hand on your upper back. “I’m alright.” You whispered, looking up at him. “You want me to clean you up?” He asked, bracing himself on his forearms. You nodded, whining softly as he slowly pulled out. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He said, getting up and going to the bathroom to grab a warm damp washcloth to wipe you down with. He cleaned you up slowly, making sure to be as gentle as he could, before putting the washcloth in the bathroom and joining you back in bed. “Lemme hold you for a bit, then we can get up in a little while, ok?” He asked. “Ok, I love you.” You whispered. “Love you, too, sweetheart.” He replied, closing his eyes as he fell asleep.

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hirukochan · 7 months

Text

Blindsided

A Severus Snape x fem!reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Severus Snape x former student reader

Summary: Complaining to your friend about Snape's complicated presence in your life ends up with you being pulled into the battle of Hogwarts. Will Snape survive?

Warnings: Smut, some degradation, angst, blood

Wordcount: 6300

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

“I don’t know!” You whine and drop your head onto the counter.

“What do you mean ‘you don’t know’ how can you not know why you fuck someone?”

“It was a lapse in judgement.”

“A huge bloody lapse that must have been.” Aberforth grunts and dries a glass with a dirty rag. “Severus fucking Snape - his name is almost as feared as you-know-who’s these days.”

“I know!” You peer up from the counter. Aberforth looks grim - but he always looks grim. In your sixth year, you once and for all decided the Three Broomsticks is too crowded and unpleasant to be in. The Hog’s Head already had a terrible reputation back then, but you didn’t care as long as it was quiet. A sorta friendship developed between you and the barman after that. “Do you hate me now?”

Aberforth grunts. “Hate you? Ridiculous girl.” He turns to put the glass back on the shelf to the other glasses that were never used. “What would I hate you for?”

“I slept with Snape.”

“And?”

“Twice.”

“I repeat, and?”

“He- he killed your brother…”

“I’m certain he has killed a lot more than just my brother and as you know Albus and I haven’t spoken in years. When you are as old as me you don’t view death as something so terrible anymore. Anyway, I heard he was sick. Caught some nasty curse or something.”

“I’m a terrible person.”

“Don’t flatter yourself! There are way worse people out there. Snape for example.” He makes a sound that distantly resembles a laugh. A rattling humph sound. You glare at him, but can’t help the corners of your mouth twitch.

“Was it at least good?”

“That’s the worst part.” You groan and prop your head up against your hand.

“That bad?”

“The opposite.”

“That good, hm?”

You blush and quickly take a large gulp of your drink to hide it.

“You know, I’ve said it before you should-”

“I’m not joining the resistance, Aberforth!” You groan. “I have nothing to bring to the table. I was decent at best in Defense. I’d get myself killed within the first few days.”

“You know Snape.”

“I fail to see the connection.” Aberforth raises a brow and you shrink a little under his intense ‘are-you-kidding-me’-gaze.

“A spy in their midst would be useful.” He says gruffly and places another glass on a shelf.

“I’m no spy! I can’t fool Snape! We can hate him as much as he deserves to be hated but you have to agree that he’s a bloody genius! I could never fool him.”

“You said he broke into your flat while fatally injured. Even a genius is sometimes just a man thinking with his cock.”

“I’m not whoring myself out to-” Your outrage is cut short by an ear-splitting scream outside.

“This damn Caterwauling Charm!” Aberforth roars and hurls his dishcloth to the ground. You press your hands to your ears to shield them from the scream. It rips through the night like a sharp knife through skin, tearing at your eardrums and every nerve in your body. It is like the caster of the charm is standing right next to you but the terrible sound clearly comes from outside.

“What is this?” You shout over the wail towards Aberforth.

“Curfew’s been broken! They were boasting about being sent here to catch Potter. Seem to be thinking he’d be stupid enough to come here and they seem to be right.”

You get up from the bar stool and follow Aberforth to the window.

The wailing stops. You take a relieved breath and drop your hands to your side. Multiple Death Eaters dressed in dark robes are storming out of the Three Broomsticks . They are talking about something, but you can’t hear.

“Poor Rosmerta.” You grimace at the thought of having to serve those monsters at your establishment. Instinctively you grab your wand in your pocket. Dementors flood into the village. You tense.

“Bloody fool!” Aberforth growls. A shimmering blue stag runs through the town centre, fighting off shadowy dementors. Potter’s Patronus. You gasp, clasping your hands over your mouth. So Aberforth is right. Harry Potter is here in Hogsmeade.

“What would possess him-”

Aberforth stalks through the room and rips open the door.

“Potter!” He hisses. Wind tears at his robes and what sounds like three sets of hasty footsteps cross through the room and up the trickery wooden staircase behind the counter. You see nothing. If it weren’t for the steps you’d think nothing happened.

“Invisibility cloak.” Aberforth mutters over his shoulder, but his attention is suddenly pulled away by multiple hooded figures reaching the pub. You take a step back, disappearing in the shadows.

“So what?” Bellows Aberforth in response to something you didn’t catch. “So what? You send dementors down my street, I’ll send a Patronus back at’em! I’m not having’em near me, I’ve told you that. I’m not having it!”

“That wasn’t your Patronus! That was a stag. It was Potter’s!” A Death Eater shouts back, sounding rather childish you note.

“Stag!” Roars Aberforth. He draws his wand and you tense, grabbing your own tighter, your knuckles going white. If they attack Aberforth you’ll- jump into a fight you’re gloriously outnumbered in? “Stag! You idiot - Expecto Patronum! ”

Aberforth’s large goat Patronus jumps from the tip of his wand. Head down, it charges toward the village centre, and out of sight.

“That’s not what I saw” says the Death Eater, sounding less convinced than before.

“Curfew’s been broken, you heard the noise,” Another Death Eater interrupted the first. “Someone was out on the streets against regulations-”

“It was me.” You say and step forward, out of the shadows like Snape always used to when catching you out and about in the castle after curfew and the thought almost makes you laugh hysterically considering what you’re about to do. “When I arrived that horrible sound started.”

“You set off the charm?” The first Death Eater says confused. His eyes roam over your body, causing a cold shiver to run down your back and a foul taste to spread in your mouth. You resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself to hide from the hungry stares of the dark wizards.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“What are you doing here at this hour, beautiful?” The second one purrs in a sickly-sweet tone of voice. You somehow manage to keep your blatant disgust from showing on your face. You square your shoulder and raise your chin, looking down at the men with nothing but disinterested arrogance.

“That is hardly of your concern.” The men look at each other, snickering mockingly.

“‘Hardly of your concern’?” One sneers. “Princess thinks herself too good to follow the rules.”

“Perhaps we ought to teach her a lesson, boys.”

“I am-” you raise your voice to drown out their beginning discussion of what to do with you. “-here to see Severus, so do yourself the favour and fuck off, yes?” A murmur passes through the Death Eaters. Saying Snape’s first name feels weird.

“The headmaster doesn’t receive walk-ins - especially not at this hour, even if they are as pretty as you.”

“He’s expecting me, you moron!” He is definitely not expecting you! He said he hopes you’ll never have to see him again!

“She sounds just like him.” One of the figures murmurs.

“Wait-” Another interrupts him. “I recognise you! You’re Snape’s little whore! Yes! The one in Diagon Alley, you remember boys? The shop that’s off-limits. I wondered why a pathetic bookshop would be off-limits until Wilkies said he was sent to get Snape from there and who do you think opened the door?”

You keep your chin held high and your clenched fists hidden in the pockets of your coat you had not taken off in your hurry to get out all the things weighing on your chest. Aberforth catches your gaze. His brows are knitted, an unspoken question in his eyes. You give him a tiny nod.

You can do this.

If Potter is here, here, there must be a damn good reason for it and if you could keep Snape distracted long enough-

Something in your chest tightens painfully at the thought of deceiving the man, which is ridiculous! He’s a Death Eater and a murderer!

He said this will all be over soon and while he probably meant that you-know-who will kill Potter soon - you have the chance to help the resistance here, help Potter. Everyone says he’s your only hope so here goes nothing.

“If you’re done wasting my time, then!” You growl, pissed off by the way they speak about you right to your face.

“You’re not going anywhere alone!” The Death Eater who recognised you says sharply. “Wouldn’t want you to get lost on your way to your…” His eyes roam over your body and he licks his lips. “ Date .”

It’s hard to resist the urge to claw his eyeballs out with your fingernails but you succeed. Somehow.

He steps to the side and gestures for you to lead the way. “We’ll escort you.”

You shoot him a snide glance and leave behind The Hogshead and Aberforth and the pretended safety you have been surrounding yourself in ever since Albus Dumbledore died.

Your stomach drops further with every step you take towards the imposing castle looming over the quiet village. You are flanked by two of the hooded figures. Your mouth feels dry and fuzzy and not even the sight of your beloved Hogwarts with its glimmering windows can ease your anxiety.

What if Snape blows your cover? ‘Expecting her? Why would I be expecting her?’ What if he decides to play along? Or maybe he’ll ask why you lied?

You take a deep breath, inhaling the cool night air into your lungs, focusing on the way they expand in your chest.

Snape came to your flat when he was fatally injured! Aberforth is right, that has to mean something! It just has to…And Potter is here for a reason! They say he is the only one that will be able to defeat you-know-who and while placing your fate on the shoulders of a seventeen-year-old sounds ridiculous you will certainly not defeat the most powerful Dark wizard to ever live! But you can distract Snape. Yes. You can keep him busy and buy Potter a chance to do whatever he is here for-

Or Snape sees right through you and Potter doesn’t have a plan.

You can’t even begin to tell yourself you don’t want to distract Snape like that because your body is already working against you.

You reach the iron gate. It opens with a shrill squeak and your feet once more hit the grounds of Hogwarts. Even with your nerves raw and plotting an escape from your body to save themselves while you walk to your doom. There is light in Hagrid’s hut. The treeline of the forbidden forest is cloaked in shadows, thicker and somehow darker than normal shadows and just like when you were a student here you feel like eyes are watching you from between the trees. The water of the Black Lake splashes against rocks and while in your teenage years you found the sound soothing it now only serves to unnerve you further.

You don’t look up to the headmaster's window.

You’re also shamefully aroused and your heart flutters at the thought of seeing Snape’s endlessly dark eyes that look so cold and apathetic from a distance but when you were standing right in front of him they had looked so soft and filled with emotion you could not dissect and you wonder if they always looked like that. Perhaps you had just never stood close enough to him to notice? A vein part of you whispered that it is all for you and no one else.

You squash the voice.

Your steps echo in the entrance hall. Your eyes catch the piercing gaze of Professor McGonagall, the strict head of Gryffindor house and Transfigurations Professor. Next to her in the doorway to the Great Hall stands Professor Flitwick. As soon as they see you and your escorts they hastily end their hushed conversation. They stare at you in quiet recognition and shock and you fail to conceal your fear from them.

“This way, beautiful.” One of the Death Eaters sneers and grabs your arm. You rip free and glare at him, barely resisting the urge to punch him. “Headmaster must be waiting already.” He grins, bearing his yellow teeth at you with unabashed ridicule. Disgust prickles over your skin, sinking into your stomach.

“Don’t touch me.” You hiss because you can’t help yourself. Without looking at your former Professors again you turn towards the grand staircase. Each step worsens the brooding feeling of inevitable doom that��s waiting behind the Gargoyle and then you’re standing in front of him much sooner than you ever would have expected or been ready to.

Snape is sitting behind a large desk, bend over a stack of parchments, greasy black hair falling in front of his face like curtains. He is holding a raven feather quill with a sharp silver tip which is gliding over the parchments with quick, elegant motions. He doesn’t bother looking up. He doesn’t seem to think the Death Eaters worthy of his attention.

You look around the round room. You were a good student - or at least a boring one. You’ve never been called into the headmaster’s office. The walls are lined with portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses and you feel transported back in time, just another student flinching at the stringent eyes of her professors. Dark leather-bound books adorn the many shelves and you can’t help but wonder whether Snape has read them all.

“I seem to remember you having been assigned to guard the village.” His deep voice cuts through the silence with taunting indifference and the way the words roll over Snape’s tongue and vibrate in his throat has you pressing your thighs together.

“This one claims you’re expecting her.” At that, Snape looks up. If he is surprised to see you, he doesn’t let it show. You shrink under his intense gaze no matter how much you told yourself you wouldn’t on the way up to his office. His eyes are cold…empty somehow. A man who has seen too much horror to not have lost some part of his humanity along the way.

He’s even skinnier, the shadows under his eyes deeper. You feel the overwhelming need to hug him despite everything he has done.

“And?” The other one says impatiently. “Are you?”

“I was waiting for you to leave but it appears I need to spell it out for you - unless you were expecting a treat for fetching what is mine like good guard dogs?”

He- he didn’t- he is playing along?

The hooded men grumble a few unsavoury insults and slam the door shut behind them. The sound leaves behind an eerie silence that Snape doesn’t seem too interested in breaking.

His gaze drops back down onto his parchment and he begins scribbling again. The portraits share looks and whisper with each other.

“Hi…” The word gets stuck in your throat and sounds far higher than you usually talk - you doubt he understood more than a gurgle. You clear your throat and take a hesitant step forward, closer to the man who these days is as feared as you-know-who.

Snape sets aside his quill and steeples his fingers. His intense gaze seems to burn right through your forehead and has you squirming. Something in his eyes softens, a change so miniscule you almost missed it.

“What are you doing here and why are you lying?” He asks. He speaks softer too. Less cold, less sardonically.

“I kinda…tripped the Caterwauling Charm when I arrived in Hogsmeade and…there were Dementors and Death Eaters and they said some things…I got scared so I kinda told them….you were expecting me-”

His lips curl. “‘Kinda told them’ ?”

“I did- I did tell them.” You let out a nervous laugh.

“Why were you in Hogsmeade to begin with?” Suspicion flashes through his eyes. You take another step forward.

“I- I missed you.” Not exactly a lie. You do miss him for some fucked up reason! You’ve been thinking about him every day since that stupid blind date stood you up and his eyes haunt you every night when you close your eyes. The memories of what happened in that exact bed you were lying in came back to you and more often than not ended with you panting his name as you made yourself cum - knowing your own touch would never compare to his.

His eyes darken, his jaw tense as though he can-

You blush.

He can read your mind. He told you at the restaurant! You try not to think about Potter, but trying not to think about something always leads to thinking more about it so you bring your thoughts back to you in your bed. Covered in sweat, clutching your pillow-

“You missed me?” He asks, pretending to not have understood you but the subtle taunt in his voice betrays him. Perhaps he wants it to betray him. “And so you…what? Thought you’d go to Hogsmeade and try to get into Hogwarts? You could have sent an owl, dear.”

“The thought didn’t occur to me.”

“My, my…oh well, you’re here now aren’t you?” He pushes back his chair and spreads his legs. “Show me how much you missed me.” Mischief and an unspoken challenge glitter in his eyes and for some reason it turns you on further.

As though caught in a trance you move, rounding the desk and closing the distance between you and Snape. Distantly you are aware that the portraits are watching you. Your stomach churns and flip flops and the liquor you had at Aberforth’s turns out to have been a huge mistake.

Snape undoes the buckle of his belt. Something in the way his hands move and his shoulders are drawn into a tense, straight line tells you he doesn’t expect you to go through with this.

Joke’s on him.

You’re not at all against this turn of events.

Not now that he is in front of you, so close you could just reach out and press your body against his, feel his hot breath on your neck or his lips against your breasts.

You push your coat over your shoulder, letting it fall to the ground as you sink to your knees between his legs. His eyebrows rise and lips part, his eyes following you.

“You’ll have to teach me though, headmaster.” You purr. A smirk pulls on your lips. Snape’s surprise lasts for another few seconds before it flickers and morphs to sombre satisfaction.

“Take out my cock.” You can’t help the trembling of your fingers when you reach for the buttons of his trousers. It’s not fear, rather the opposite. You bite your lip and slip your hand into his trousers. He inhales sharply when your fingers close around his cock. He is already half hard and throbs in your hand. Gently you free him and then look back up, waiting for instruction.

You’re not stupid. You know the basics - kinda. You’ve never done this, after all, a fact Snape seems to relish in.

“Dumb slut can’t even suck cock, hm?” He snickers. His insult should offend you. You should get mad and insult him back and get up, storming out of his office in a cloud of rage - you don’t. You get wetter . An uncomfortable wet spot in your knickers - the testament of your decaying moral compass.

‘Fuck it’, you think. ‘Potter is here - we might all die today.’

If the world ends today what does it matter if you’re a traitor? A terrible, depraved, morally corrupt woman that is drawn to you-know-who’s second in command? A man almost as feared as his master?

“Lick it.” His voice cuts through your thoughts. Cold and sharp like an icicle falling from a roof, large and fast enough to pierce through a person. You part your lips and swipe your tongue over the tip of his cock. Snape groans under his breath. He reclines in his chair. The old leather creaks under his weight.

He tangles a hand into your hair, stroking your head as though you’re his loyal pet, seeking its master’s closeness.

You press your flat tongue to his cockhead, licking several hard, broad strokes over it. You place kisses just beneath it and work your way down his shaft, alternating kisses with licks all while dragging your thumb gently over the underside of his cock, just by his cockhead.

Snape’s groans get louder with each pass of your tongue, his grip on your hair tightens.

“Ahhh- fuck….what a good girl- a filthy, dumb slut satisfying her headmaster, huh? Or at least trying. You’re giving this your all, aren’t you girl? How pathetic you are.” He tears at your hair, pulling your head up and pressing your lips against his cockhead. Beads of a milky liquid are gathering at the slit. “So desperate for cock you come all the way here in the middle of the night on the off chance I might be willing to fuck you again.” Keeping your eyes trained on his you catch the liquid with the tip of your tongue. It doesn’t taste as horrible as you feared it would. Salty, kinda bitter.

“Open your mouth.” You do. You obey without hesitation. Snape looks like a king sitting on his throne and you’re the new addition to his harem, learning to please her king in all the ways he likes.

Snape brings your head closer, pulling on your hair, keeping iron-like control of your head. You grab hold of his trousers, clutching the fabric between your still-trembling fingers.

His cock slips between your lips, forcing you to open wider to him, your lips stretching around his girth. Snape looks at you with a mixture of admiration, tenderness and roaring lust and your chest swells with something akin to pride. Pride that you caused such a shift in a stoic, controlled man like Snape. And perhaps hope that Snape is not merely the barbaric Death Eater he is appearing to be. Perhaps there is more to him.

“That’s it, girl-” He groans and drops his head back against his chair, grabbing your head with both of his hands now, forcing it down on his cock. Force is unnecessary of course. You wouldn’t stop doing this even if he wasn’t holding onto you.

You drool over his hard cock while Snape bobs your head up and down, muttering words you can’t hear over your own sputtering and choking and the blood pounding in your ears. Your knickers are ruined at this point. Your cunt clenches around jarring nothingness. You’re so aroused it hurts . There is an unbearable need deep inside you and you can’t- can’t-

You let go of his trouser, dropping your hand between your spread-out knees and under your skirt. Never have you been so wet. Your fingers slide into you without any resistance. You moan around Snape’s cock.

He opens his eyes, blinks as though he isn’t quite aware of his surroundings. His eyes meet yours. You must look pathetic. Drooling over his cock, tears and snot smeared on your face while he uses your mouth to pleasure himself.

“Are you touching yourself, dear?” He coos, his lips curling into a smug grin. Your eyelids drop shut and you moan again. Snape pulls on your hair, plucking you off his cock. You whine both at the sting and the loss of contact. Before you can fully catch up with the situation Snape has gotten to his feet, pulling you with him. He smashes his lips against yours. His hand is securely tangled in your hair, pressing you closer to him while also preventing you from pulling away.

You don’t want to.

You missed him so much. Even though you don’t really know him. Even though you really shouldn’t. He was your teacher and he is a murderer and you don’t give a shit.

You mewl into the kiss and cling to the front of his robes.

“You’re fucking beautiful.” He murmurs against your lips. His hand leaves your hair. He grasps at your arse, squeezing your cheeks in his large hands that have slipped under your skirt. He is grinding you into his erection.

“Snape-” You moan. He forces you back. Your thighs hit the edge of his desk. Snape lifts you up on it and drops to his knees. Your hands tangle into his hair instantly, pulling him closer, parting your legs for him.

“So fucking beautiful.” He repeats, sounding almost dazed. He kisses your knee, trailing up your thigh, inching teasingly, torturously towards where you need him most.

“-Snape…”

“I don’t want to die without knowing how you taste.” Your mind is too far gone, too useless, too lust-drenched to register his words or the pang of worry you would normally feel at hearing them. Just a few minutes earlier you would have noticed the certainty in the word die. Like a man on death row, walking towards his execution.

Snape tears at your knickers, pulling them roughly down your legs.

Hot. His tongue is so hot- heat that sears at your skin, killing and saving you all at once.

You grip his hair tighter and throw your head back. Snape laps at your cunt, licking broad, hard strokes over your folds, pulling moan after pathetic, whimpering moan from you.

Much too soon he stops, leaving you just on the edge of release, suspended in the air, surrounded by heat and desperation and roaring pleasure.

“Snape.” You rasp, your voice strained.

“You’ll cum on my cock or you won’t cum at all, dear.” He says. He probably aimed to sound teasing, in control, smug maybe. But control has long left this room. Neither of you possess a single ounce of it and he sounds equally as needy as you feel. You wrap your legs around his hips and pull him closer.

“Yes, headmaster.” You say. His Adam’s Apple bobs with the hard swallow he takes. He closes his eyes and his jaw tenses.

“Vixen.” He growls and pounces at you. One second you’re sitting, smirking at Snape, the next you’re buried under his weight, pressed down on the desk. He enters you in one thrust, a truly sinful groan falling from his lips. He fucks you rough - much rougher than the last two times. You’re kissing, clicking teeth and gasping for air. Snape pounds into you, his thick cock stretches you open, hitting all the right spots. You cling to Snape, grasping at his sleeves and collar, desperate to touch him, feel him.

Last time Snape clung to you like a dying man to life - now you’re clinging to him like life not ready to let death take what is hers.

“Snape!” He sucks on the delicate skin over your throat, hard enough to leave a bruise.

“I had made my peace with never seeing you again.” He rasps in your ear between feverish kisses. “I don’t- I can’t-” Whatever it is he wanted to say, it’s lost to your shared pleasure. Snape presses his face against the crook of your neck, panting and groaning and you cry out, pressure mounting inside you. Ripples morph to tidal waves, swallow you up, pull you under and lift you up all at once and Snape murmurs something against your collarbone you can’t make out.

You can feel it’s important though.

Crucial, world-changing, momentously significant information and you sob. The worlds slip through your fingers like sand in an hourglass and you hold onto Snape tighter, tighter so perhaps those words aren’t lost- he isn’t lost-

Snape lifts his head and kisses you. Soft, gentle. A stark contrast to before. There’s longing in the kiss, regret and pain and you weave your fingers through his hair and kiss him back, begging for him to shatter your worries because something isn’t right here! You can tell- something-

What aren’t you seeing?

Droplets hit your skin.

Are you crying?

An explosion tears you apart. It’s in the distance, muffled through the many ancient walls separating the headmaster's office from the source. Both of you look up. Snape at once composed, his eyes once more distant. Wetness lingers in them.

“Stay here.” He orders.

“What’s going on?” Is Potter here? Snape has meanwhile straightened up and fixed his clothes and hair.

“Stay.”

“Snape!” You push your skirt down and jump from the table, following him towards the door. He pauses. Tension drawn into every muscle, in the very way he stands, unable to face you. “Please-” Your voice breaks.

“I need you to stay here.”

“Please talk to me.” Now you’re definitely crying.

“I told you this will be over soon. Today’s the day.”

You shake your head. Can he stop being a fucking enigma and just be honest with you for once!

He wants to leave, but you grab his hand and hold him back. He’s trembling. You couldn’t tell before, but touching him now-

He’s scared.

You wrap your arms around his waist and press your face to his back, sobbing.

“I need to know you’re safe. Please- I’m begging you- stay here.” His voice is heavy and crack at the end.

“Severus-”

He swirls around in your embrace and cups your cheeks before kissing you. The kiss tastes of salt…

“It’ll all be over and if it goes according to plan you’ll be free. You’ll be safe. It’ll be over. Promise me- promise me you’ll find happiness. That you’ll live, that you’ll find love and have a family of your own and- that you will be happy and safe and loved !”

“Severus-” Snape presses his lips to your forehead before leaning his own against it. He has his eyes closed.

“Promise me.” He sounds like the words physically hurt him. “Please! ”

“If you promise to come back to me!” You’ve grasped the front of his robes again. Tears stream over your cheeks. Snape doesn’t answer. He gently disentangles your hands from his clothes and with a billow of his cloak he is gone.

You clasp your hands over your mouth and sink to your knees, shaken with silent sobs.

This can’t be happening- this can’t be real. You feel numb. There is no fear left, not even pain which you had expected. You feel empty. Like Snape took a part of you with him when he left.

For a long time, nothing happens. You gather your pathetic self from the ground and drag yourself over to Snape’s chair. Aimlessly you open drawers in search of some liquor. Snape surely would have liquor in his desk, right?

“Bottom drawer, dear.” A warm female voice says. You flinch but quickly remember you are in fact surrounded by a bunch of portraits. You don’t even have it in you to blush.

You open the suggested drawer with more force than necessary. A bottle rolls over the bottom of the drawer. It’s some fancy whiskey. Not that you care. You pick up to bottle and are about to unstopper it when-

A picture lies in the drawer. It was hidden underneath the bottle. With knitted brows, you set the bottle aside and pick it up.

It’s you.

You are in front of the bookshop. Wind is pulling at your hair and snowflakes are falling down on you. You’re laughing and trying to catch them with your tongue.

Why does Snape have a picture of you in his desk? Why is it in his whiskey drawer?

Your mind pictures him sitting here, taking swigs of his fancy liquor and staring at the picture of you.

You should feel uncomfortable. This is- weird. It should be weird.

It’s not.

It doesn’t feel like it at least. It feels of suppressed longing, of a yearning for something he can’t allow himself to have but is unable to let go of.

You can’t stay here. You have a terrible feeling about all this. Something terrible is going to happen.

Leaving Snape’s office you stumble into a war zone. Hexes and curses flash through the air, there are screams and shouts. You duck, draw your wand and join the battle.

It’ll all be over today .

Snape’s words play on repeat in your head. Everything blurs together. You send your nastiest curses at the hooded Death Eaters all while looking out for greasy black hair and slimmer than they should be shoulders.

You don’t find him anywhere.

Out of breath and scared for your life and everyone around you, you wind up in the Great Hall. You’re bleeding from a wound on your head and several gashes all over your arms and upper body of varying severity.

And there you spot him. He’s standing in the middle of the room. The battle seems to come to a halt. The remaining fighters have gathered around the walls of the former dining area. Next to Snape stands Harry Potter and they’re facing you-know-who together-

Wait.

Snape is facing his own master?

A blood-soaked bandage around his throat Snape glares at the pale, noseless monster. He is hunched over, his breaths seem to be laboured.

There’s a duel. Halfway through you-know-who’s red eyes lock with your own. The intensity of the sheer cruelty in his eyes knocks the air from your lungs.

“How ill-conceived of you to bring her here, Severus.” A pale, long wand is aimed at you. Snape swirls around. His eyes widen with shock and fear and accusation.

Everything goes quiet.

Green light speeds towards you. You-know-who turns towards Potter. Snape runs towards you. Potter’s spell hits you-know-who’s in the air.

Snape shouts your name. Droplets of blood fly through the air.

And at once the sounds return, smashing into your eardrums with deafening force. You throw yourself down on the ground. The curse hits the wall behind you. It bursts into shards of stone that fly through the air. Some hit you. Some hit others. You look up, your heart racing in your chest, your fingers tremble from the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You almost died.

Fucking Voldemort almost killed you!

Quickly you look up, gripping your wand tighter, prepared to defend yourself if necessary-

There’s cheering. Voldemort is dead, they shout. You spot the pale figure on the floor with Potter standing over him.

He is dead?

Truly dead?

It’s over-

You let out a laugh somewhere between hysteria and pure joy.

“Severus-” Where is he? He was running towards you- “SEVERUS!”

Heads turn towards you.

Snape is on the ground, surrounded by his black robes, a puddle of deep red blood growing around him steadily. “HELP! HELP! SEVERUS- ” You sprint towards him, dropping to your knees even before you reach him and slipping over the ground. “SEVERUS! SEVERUS! PLEASE-” He is still warm. You gather his slack body into your arms, cradling him to your chest. No no no no no no- please-

“Severus- Severus-” Warm blood sticks to your hands. Too much- way too much.

“Please please- no- Sev- no-” Arms wrap around you, tuck and pull on you, tearing you away from Severus. You scream and flail around, trying to hit whoever is trying to take him from you, take you from him- no-

“SEVERUS! LET GO OF ME! SEVERUS- ”

Madam Pomfrey rushes towards Potter and Snape. She sinks to her knees and waives her wand over Snape’s lifeless body. You give up your fight. You sob and cry and whimper Snape’s name, pleading with whichever deity is listening to you to not take him- no- not now-

“He was on our side all along-” Potter says, his voice cracking. “Dumbledore asked him to kill him- He was on our side-”

You watch the healer work with bated breath. Magic flows out of the tip of her wand in a steady flow, battling whatever had Snape bleeding. Potter has fallen to his knees in the meanwhile. McGonagall is silently crying.

“He’s stable.” Madam Pomfrey says, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “For now at least.” The hands holding you, release you and you scramble off the floor. Snape is lying in a cot the healer summoned. She is already gone, hurrying towards the next victim of this battle needing healing. You have no strength left to care or to even consider helping anyone. Nobody asks you to.

You lie down next to Snape.

“Please don’t die-” You whisper the words again and again until your voice fails you and you just watch his chest rise and fall because as long as his chest is still rising and falling he is still alive.

Your eyes fall shut.

You let them.

For just a moment. A moment of rest.

“I- told you to…stay-” You startle awake. “You never listen…” Black eyes blink at you. Tired but alive. So alive.

“Severus!” You sob and crash your lips against him. A hysterical laugh of relief escapes you.

“Ow- careful-” He groans.

“Sorry sorry sorry!” Quickly you back off. “You’re alive.”

“It would appear so. Believe me, I am as surprised as you are.”

“Idiot! You fucking wanker! How dare you almost fucking die on me again!”

Snape laughs, but it sounds horrible. Like nails on a chalkboard. You heard that Voldemort’s snake tore open his throat and Potter just about managed to save his life.

“I apologise.” He rasps. “Allow me- allow me to take you to dinner. Proper dinner. With at least five courses and wine.”

“As long as you actually show up to the restaurant.” You chuckle and wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“Only a fool would waste the opportunity of a date with you.”

#snape fandom #ao3 fanfic #severus snape #severus snape smut #snape x you #snape x reader #severus snape x reader #dividers by cafekitsune

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