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#curses upon the bad bedroom closet lighting
vidawhump · 2 months
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@whumpy-wyrms HAPPY BIRTDAY SAWYER!!!!!!! :DDDDDDD
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godsmenusuperbowl · 9 months
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I Pimp You ~ *Bang Chan*
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Summary: With all the money in the world, it was hard for you to find someone who loved you for you. However, after meeting Chan, you think you’ve finally found the one. However, will he still stay with you after he realizes just how much money you have?
Pairing: Bang Chan X G/N!Reader
Genre: Fluffy Oneshot
Word Count: 1270
Warning: The title is a bad representation of this story. It’s really cute and lovely.
Masterlist
Taglist: @foxwinter @mxnsxngie @maeleelee @kpop-will-kill-me
A/N: Based off the Alice Francis song I Pimp You
You gave a nervous smile as you pressed your back firmly against the doors behind you to your apartment, your hands on the handles. “You promise not to freak out?”
Chan shook his head, giving you a bright smile to try and ease your frazzled nerves. “Of course I won’t. I told you that you didn’t have to be ashamed of anything with me. It’s going to be okay.”
“Just keep that thought in mind, okay?” You weren’t trying to scare him off, it’s just hard to tell someone you really love that you’re one of the richest heiresses in the world. Nevertheless, he promised you that he loved you more than anything, which gave you some scrap of confidence to show him the penthouse that your parents gave you on your twentieth birthday.
Just like ripping off a band-aid, you pushed open the doors behind you and the lights in your penthouse raised to display the sleek, modern, chic interior design your mother insisted upon for your place. You gauged his reaction carefully, hoping you weren’t overwhelming or scaring him too much. It’s a lot to take in, just how much money you had access to. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, making your stomach churn.
“Wow.” He breathed.
“I know, I know, it’s too much.” You sighed to yourself, mentally cursing your parents for going overboard as they always did. “Frankly, when I said I wanted my own place, I was thinking more of a small two bedroom apartment. But my parents like extravagance and excess and insisted on a whole floor dedicated to me in one of their many apartment complexes and they don’t like being told no.”
Chan slowly entered the penthouse, careful not to touch anything, as if he was afraid he might break something. You winced internally at his cautious behavior, afraid that your worst thoughts were coming true. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable with all of this, yet he looked so nervous, which in turn made you nervous. “Yeah, I guess.”
Taking a deep, shaky breath, you asked, “Are you okay?”
He hesitated before giving a small nod. “Sorry, it’s just, it’s a lot to take in.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
Shaking his head, Chan gently took your hands in his and gave you that smile that you loved the most, making a small smile appear on your face. Pressing soft kisses to your knuckles, he spoke, “Hey, don’t be sorry for the family you were born into. Besides, it’s just like I said before, it’s all going to be okay. You don’t have to be ashamed for having all this money. I fell in love with who you are as a person, not your money.”
Your smile only grew at his words and you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I gave you the grand tour, would you?”
“That sounds like a great idea.” He nodded grinning widely.
Taking his hand, you started to drag him all around the penthouse, showing him all the little places you loved most. You showed off your little nook tucked into a window where the best view of the city was, in your opinion. You showed him your studio where you danced and made your own music, which you gave him permission to use if he couldn’t make it to the studio at JYP. Finally, you brought him to your piece de resistance.
“This is my favorite place in the whole penthouse, but you can’t tell anyone about it.” You made him cross his heart as you stood in front of the double doors.
He chuckled, making an X over his heart. “Cross my heart and everything.”
With that, you pushed open the doors to probably the biggest walk-in closet he’s ever seen. Again his jaw dropped at all the clothes and jewelry and other assorted accessories on display. You beamed, seeing the corners of his mouth twitch up ever so slightly.
“The reason why I like this room so much is because I love just wearing my fancy clothes and dancing around in my studio. I just have a lot of fun playing dress up. This is the one thing I don’t mind having too much of.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” Chan teased, making you laugh and awkwardly scratch the back of your neck.
You showed off some of your favorite outfits and he made you model all of them for him. He even played some music from his phone and the two of you danced together in your closet. You no longer felt ashamed of your money, as long as he was in your arms. This was the best moment of your entire life.
As he skimmed through the racks, looking for another outfit for you to try on, he paused. “What are these?”
When you saw what he was looking at, your smile dropped and your cheeks burned bright red. “Ah, um, yeah. Well, when I told my parents that I had a boyfriend, they decided to spoil you too. Those are yours.”
Chan’s eyes widened yet again as he looked through the expensive shirts and suits. “M-M-Mine?”
You nodded slowly and bit your lip. “Yeah. Sorry. I can take them back if-”
“Do you, um, mind if I try something on?”
It took you a second to comprehend his reaction before you nodded with a shy smile. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, if you want to. You can change outside of the closest if you like.”
While he changed into one of the new suits, you took your time to find the outfit that you had tucked away for special occasions. All your life, you were told that everyone should have one outfit that makes them feel powerful, sexy, and comfortable. Basically something that you only save for special occasions. Of course, yours was probably the most expensive thing in this entire closet, but that’s not important. You believe this occasion is special enough for you to put it on and take it for a spin.
As you were adding the matching jewelry, Chan walked back into the closet, adjusting the ruby cufflinks on the suit. You gasped almost dropping the necklace in your hand when you saw him in the mirror. He looked stunning and so mature, making your heart beat erratically. If what you were wearing was your special occasion outfit, then this must be Chan’s. You almost didn’t think it was him until he blushed bright red at your reaction and he covered his face with his hands to give a nervous chuckle.
“You look absolutely extraordinary, Channie!” You gushed, making your way over to him to get a better look. You gently pulled his hands away from his face to give him an encouraging smile. “Seriously! I almost didn’t recognize you at first! You look absolutely marvelous!”
“Not as marvelous as you.” He smiled before taking the necklace out of your hand and gently clasping it around your neck for you. “There. Now you look perfect.”
Smiling, you replied cheekily with, “Not as perfect as you.”
As Chan’s cheeks darkened, you couldn’t suppress a laugh, making him crack a smile. When your laughter subsided, you gave a wistful sigh before saying, “Are you sure this isn’t too much for you? I don’t want to overwhelm you. I can’t promise my parents won’t if you ever meet them, considering they do love spoiling people with their money…”
“No, it’s fine.” He breathed, brushing his lips against yours, making you shiver. “You are enough and that’s all that matters to me.”
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moosekateer13 · 2 years
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Tolerate It
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For @negans-lucille-tblr N-L-Threenager Blogiversary Writing Challenge
Prompt: My love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it.
Inspired by Taylor Swift's Tolerate it
Warnings: Bad Marriage, Lovers to Enemies, Angst, Alcohol, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy, Fluff
Summary: A couple of two prominent families. The Morgans and Y/L/N seem to have an idealistic love story, but that couldn't be further from the truth.
Another damn high society party. I stock up on champagne before the party. I hate these types of things.
Jeff yanks for the glass from hand.
"That's enough, doll. You are going to embarrass me if you show up drunk." Jeff scolded.
A used to love that nickname he gave me. Now I hate it when it comes out of his mouth.
I storm off to get dressed.
To think we were so happy only a year ago.
1 year ago
4th-anniversary celebration at Morgan’s restaurant
“Another bite of pasta doll?” Jeff asked as held the fork up to my mouth.
“Yes, of course, dear,” I replied. He smiles at me as he put the creamy fusilli into my mouth.
He sets the fork down, then places a light kiss on my lips. I love the way he treats me. And I hope it’ll always be this good.
End of Flashback.
I rummage through my closet and pull on the latest black Gucci dress. I look in the mirror and hate the superficial person reflecting back me. At one time, Jeff and I used to be in love. Now we are just a show for the public. Some would blame the age gap between us. It couldn't be further from the truth. Eventually, he just got bored with me. Now I am just a mere trophy for him. I am the only heiress to the Y/L/N publishing company. There's not much substance to our lives between the parties, drinking or hate sex. Well, one-sided hate. My stupid heart refuses to let go of him.
Jeff, with a phony smile on his face, is waiting for me downstairs. Even though I know he’s an asshole, but damn, does he look good in that white suit.
He guides me to the limo and opens the door for me. I drum my fingers on my thigh, eagerly awaiting this night to be over.
Keeping up with his act, Jeff helps me out of the limo. Greeted by the usual sight of tuxes and ball gowns.
We go to greet the usual people in his circle before I make my way over to my friends.
“Y/N, you look so unhappy. Why don't you just leave him.?” Melody said.
Maya, Cole, Bee, and Jen all look at me the same way Melody does. Silently agreeing with her.
“You know I can't. It's frowned upon.” I replied dejectedly.
I could just see the headlines now if I left.
"Publishing heiress runs away from Movie Director husband."
I'd be on the blacklist from everything, not to mention my family's reputation would be in ruins.
Cole snags a glass of champagne from the waiter and hands it to me. She knows I need it at times like this. I savour the taste on my tongue.
I feel my frazzled nerves dissipate. It didn't take me long to finish it and I set the empty glass down. I feel Jeff's hand snag my wrist, signalling me it's time for the couple's dance.
My treacherous heart skips a beat while I am in his arms. Despite my protest, I know there are some lingering feelings on my end.
Once the song ends, he roughly lets go, nearly dropping me on my ass.
The night drags on and finally, to my relief, it's finally over. As is his show for the public. He doesn't allow me to get into the limo. He makes me take a taxi home. I leave my heels by the door, then head to my bedroom. Jeff and I haven't slept in the same bed for years. Save for the hate sex, of course. Then in the morning, I am dumped out of bed.
3 months later...
Dammit, I curse at the results of the stick in my hand. I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have had that hate sex with him 3 months ago. In our haste, we must have forgotten to use protection.
Flashback
3 months ago
Morgan’s Estate Greenhouse…
I am tending to the flowers when I feel an eeriness looming over me.
My husband stalks over to me, completely naked.
Jeff rips my clothes off and roughly comes in me.
Not caring that he's having his way with me in the dirt of our greenhouse and the staff could see us.
I know this will change nothing with us. It's just something to fill our urges.
Once he's done, Jeff just leaves me in the dirt.
End of Flashback
My period never being regular, it never dawned on me that I was pregnant. For months, I didn't have any symptoms. No cravings, or throwing up. The only thing I noticed is I've been off-put by drinking since then. Then in the past month, I've been feeling exhausted. Soni bit the bullet and took one. I told Melody about my predicament. She and the rest of the girls are coming over to help me move out.
Knowing it'll be in the best interest of the child. Jeff would never be a good father. We'll worry about schematics later.
5 years later…
I cradle my daughter Oriana while I walk down the street. We headed to her favourite restaurant. She was getting tired, so I carried her. She's the only good thing to come out of my relationship with Jeff. To my surprise, my parents were very understanding when I left Jeff. All they wanted was to see their only daughter happy. They let the family lawyer handle everything. It was swift and easy. When he learned the news of pregnancy, as long as he didn't have to pay child support. Jeff didn't give a crap. He had a kid on the way and signed his rights away. Thank God for that.
After I left him, I felt freer than I have had in years. I’ve been able to contribute to my family’s company. Something Jeff didn’t like me doing. He liked to keep me like a caged bird or trophy on his shelf. I couldn’t be happier now. My daughter is a big reason for that. She’s the light I didn’t know I needed.
I feel a chill down my spine and I know I am walking past my former estate. I look over to see Jeff having someone new move in.
She's my age. I feel sorry for her being lured in by his empty promises. After a few years, he only tolerated my love. It's only a matter of time. It'll be the same for her.
Break free and leave us in ruins
Took this dagger in me and removed it
Gain the weight of you, then lose it
Believe me, I could do it
If it's all in my head, tell me now
Tell me I've got it wrong somehow
I know my love should be celebrated
But you tolerate it
I sit and watch you
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kurimiaki · 3 years
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T, R, N and P with Diluc please?
the uncrowned king of mondstadt, diluc ragnvindr.
yandere alphabet via dear-yandere! revisions i made are flaky so. my bad wwwww
cw: dark content, physical abuse, kidnapping, confinement, claustrophobia, extremely unhealthy relationship.
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Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
Just because Diluc may be attending to business elsewhere, does not mean you are free from his heady grasp. Distant yet coddling; his attentiveness is a curse just as much as it can be a blessing. You’re never without security, that much is true. Dawn Winery is his eyes and ears, every single servant wrapped around his finger, wrapping around and constricting you. Self isolation could never be a possibility, not when Adelinde ushers you out of bed without a minute left to spare, always in such a hurry, as if wallowing in utter boredom for days on end is anything of importance. From the very beginning, Diluc had made it a point to ensure your physical health was a top priority to those surrounding you; strict itineraries have maids silently mourning over their packed workload. A plethora of duties— take you on brief walks outside the winery, never longer than 15 minutes, feed and serve meals delicately planned and catered to your health, eyes and ears constantly watching, watching, watching. They keep you like a dog on a leash, no matter how pampered. They do so dutifully. They must. Who could possibly decline such a hefty pay at the expense of silence?
It would be a blatant lie to say your physical health had declined any whilst under his... care, however, the same cannot be said for your mental well being. He can’t, despite how much he hates his inability to do so, prevent your tears. And by the archons, do you cry. Diluc is unable to approach you some days, those days when the illusion of normalcy and domestic living he works so hard to put up simply melts away, when you can do little more than curl in on yourself and wretch into your silk sheets with a litany of tears flush in your eyes. He wills himself to allow you the mercy of a few hours alone, albeit with check ups and that blatant discomfort of his when you wail at the slightest touch to your shoulder. Of course, it’s a different case entirely when such cries are symptom of punishment— whereas Diluc will weakly attempt to comfort you with softened eyes when you work yourself up, flaky and visibly uncomfortable, his resolution is unflinching and unwavering should you choose to act out of turn. Wail, sob, beg and beg for mercy, for forgiveness, his mask of nonchalance will stay firm.
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Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
No. Diluc is understanding that the situation he has thrust you into may not be ideal, he anticipates a lack of reciprocation and overall resistance, but he feels absolutely no guilt. In his eyes, this is for the best, the world is much too cruel— who better than him to make that judgement for you? Even if you do prove yourself to be capable of taking care of yourself, (with Diluc himself to measure up to) this Darknight Hero will find every minute, minuscule little thing to prove you otherwise. Just about every one of your shortcomings Diluc will try and use to his advantage, to put himself in a better light. Who else is as capable as he is, who else can prove themselves worthy of your companionship, your devotion, in the ways that he has? The longer you stay in his grasp, not that the possibility of leaving will come otherwise, the more difficult it becomes to prove him wrong. He feeds you with the utmost care, keeps you healthy, entertains you should you need conversation or otherwise, and provides, provides, provides. There may be a lack of freedom on your end, but really, do you have much room to complain? Without him, you may very well be dead. He ensures that point is driven straight to your heart, however many times is necessary until you grow compliant.
His will and rationality is fully reasonable, in his mind, hence why his wishes to keep you by his side shall forever remain solid. Perhaps it is the idea of you keeping close to him that entraptures Diluc so entirely, for he is a distant admirer. He would be contented growing old and without your touch, merely sharing your company for as long as life allows. All the same, he wishes to swallow you whole, skin, blood, guts and tears, if only to keep you with him. It is selfish, but he tells himself that is something of which he is deserving. He must.
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Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
Diluc is nothing if not dedicated to his goals, a driven man in everything he sets his mind to. In order to maintain the position he thrives in, he is forever alert, forever adapting, prepared for any strenuous situation thrown his way. Should you push past a line you are never meant to cross, jab at him a tad too harshly, well... it’s not as if he gives no thought as to how to keep you in line. Rarely are you knowing enough of his inner workings to be able to push him past the point of no return, a point where even you, his dearest, are not spared from his wrath. Emphasis on rare, for he is wholly tolerant and gentle with you, to an extent. Any person has a breaking point, and Diluc, despite his detached disposition and stoic attitude, can only withstand so much. He bottles up so much to remain composed, after all. When he snaps, he is unable to hold himself back any longer.
He is not one to take pleasure from the suffering of others. Lest they truly deserve it, is what he’ll tell himself, to at the very least maintain the illusion of normalcy. Sway not from the path of righteousness, forget not the splendor of dawn. His mind is able to concoct the most horrific scenarios he could possibly put you through, for he does the same with his enemies. In a way, when you act out of turn, an instinctual part of him, cultivated after years spent at the whims of the dangerous and unknown, sees you as just that— an enemy. He doesn’t often choose the more unsavory methods to keeping you in line, ie: beating or threatening you with his vision, further keeping true to said threats should you continue. Diluc is wholly capable of restraining the urge to simply slap the snark off of your face (he had done so regardless, once or twice), and much prefers isolating you on his own terms, away from everyone and everything, even himself. It’s a small room, not even on par with that of your shared bedroom, much more similar to a closet or crawlspace.
A room, but a cage all the same. Splintered wood floors, dank cobblestone surrounds you and few cracks in the stone leaves room for bugs of all nature to crawl through, allows the elements to rain hell upon you should you end up locked up during the harsher months. A lone maid, not even Adelinde, the head, attends to you, sparing meek glances should you call out when she gently places a meal of one roll, a piece of meat, and a few shoddily cut slabs of potato. No begging and weeping and screaming you may do will soften Diluc into coming back for you- again, his resolve is akin to that of steel, his will forever unyielding. He decides when you are thoroughly broken in, and when it is time to hold you in kind, he shines through like that of The Darknight Hero the people proclaim him to be. In the end, what is necessary is that he shows you how much better off you are when with him. He’s much too possessive and to a point, coddling, to ever consider discarding you into the wild and at the whims of hilichurl camps and abyss mages alike.
His hold is firm and grounding. Had he always been able to hold you with such ease? Had he ever truly held you in kind, as he does now? He’s warm. A familiar, comforting scent of smoke and acidic wine fills your senses and him, oh, him. He had left you, left you alone, all alone, in that room, not even a room, all alone, and yet you can do little more than gag and writhe and latch onto him with pleas of his name whispered hoarsely— ‘Diluc, Diluc, Diluc’. A cry of your savior.
He can’t look at you, won’t look at you. Won’t give you the mercy, but he couldn’t be angry. Not anymore. He holds you tighter and so flush to himself, with a ferocity narly shown to anyone but you, not in kind, not with this passion. You smell of dust, a husk of yourself. Faintly of his sheets, faintly of iron, of vomit, of filth.
Fresh memories of your betrayal burn hot in his mind. He’s contradicting himself. He cannot relent. It comes out as a whisper, barely even heard to himself, and he curses his very soul the moment it passes his lips.
“Strive to do better. Lest you want your time there to increase tenfold.”
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Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
He can bear with defiance and unwillingness on your part, to an extent. He can anticipate as much, for he is not delusional enough to fool himself into thinking your relationship is even somewhat typical to that of a normal couple, no matter how much he wishes that to be the case. No, for the initial few weeks of your captivity (he’s always gotten so mad when you refer to him as such, a captor) Diluc allows you to lash and sob and attempt to reason with him, attempt to soften him, attempt to hurt him. He’ll allow you to do so, but he himself remains impenetrable, unblinking, almost uncaring. He is prepared for about anything and everything, always expecting the worse possibilities as to save himself from further harm. For you, as well, he is constantly anticipating and observing. In hidden, minute little ways. It may even come as a shame to him if the fact that he enforces the maids to note down your every little move ever reaches your ears.
All in all, Diluc’s complete preparation for anything and everything you may throw his way makes him extremely patient, for better or for worse. Difficult to crack, impenetrable, almost— on one hand, the distance he keeps from you to accommodate for your lack of reciprocation may come as a blessing, but it makes it all too difficult to try and pester him into letting you go, to try and understand his goals and motivations in keeping you locked right away. Your complacency is inevitable, sooner or later, Diluc will begin approaching and weaseling his way into your routine in the smallest of ways, gradually and unconsciously causing you to grow fonder of his presence. It’s a slow process, one he had planned from the very moment his wishes of a domestic life with you grew much too much to handle. He loves you completely, yearns for your love, and for it, he will wait as long as necessary.
Blazing red eyes leer down upon you, your shame increasing tenfold for each second that passes subjected to that gaze of his. A fit of expaseration, you will admit, had sent the cutlery dear Hillie had so delicately prepared flying off of the white tablecloth and onto the hardwood floors, further staining the expensive rugs with wines and crumbs and oils from his favorite meal, a concoction of pasta and steak and cheese. He had prepared yours alongside with it, striking tonight as a tad more special than the rest. You didn’t blame yourself for what you did, not when he had proposed something as outlandish as marriage.
He keeps silent, leaning back in his seat, his throne, as if he were a king observing a mere peasant begging for mercy— quite frankly, you should be. But perhaps tonight he will be more lenient, you ponder, averting your gaze to the flickering embers sparking from the fireplace beside you.
He sighs, suddenly, worn and thoroughly put out by your antics, further embarrassing you by his facade of nonchalance. No, you could tell from the way his leather gloves creaked from gripping himself too hard, he was barely concealing his own anger.
“You hardly let me finish my scentence. Come, we’ll continue this conversation upstairs.”
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favoniuscodex · 3 years
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ataraxia. - ch. 4 [ diluc x reader ]
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ch. 4 - adjustment pairing: diluc x gn!reader warnings: mention of injuries, mentions of murder, mentions of familial passing. not beta read. words: ~2.2k words fic masterlist [ prev ] - [ next ]
chapter summary: you're not used to company and diluc is awkward. but hey, things are beginning to become normal, right?
a/n: mmm. slow burn. begrudging allies. not much happens in this chapter, but i promise things will speed up soon. :)
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for the four days diluc is bedridden, two of which he is able to actually walk around miniscule amounts, the rocking chair in the guest room becomes your dining chair and your lap serves as your dinner table. sure, it's slightly messy, but even diluc, who you can tell likely isn't the one for conversation normally, enjoys your company. despite the walls he puts up, he is still able to hold a conversation.
however, for all the information you reveal about yourself, you learn little about diluc. when you talk about your farm, he's more knowledgeable than the average townsperson, which leads you to believe he grew up near agriculture. however, his formal method of speaking steers you away from such conclusions, unable to pinpoint where exactly the overlap between a farming background and a background of what seems to be an elite overlap.
you are mostly the one talking to him. it doesn't take a genius to realize that he isn't a fan of small talk and would rather just sit in silence, but you wish to know exactly who is taking up the spare bedroom in your house. like a hardboiled egg, diluc fails to crack upon the impact of your words. instead, he expertly maneuvers his way out of any question you might throw at him.
if only he could have maneuvered his way out of the fatui, you think bitterly, irritated with the entire situation at hand. if diluc hadn't gotten himself injured, then you wouldn't be the one dealing with a guilty conscience if you threw him out. curse your parents for instilling basic human morals in you.
however, apart from dropping off books, accompanying him to the bathroom (where you wait outside respectfully, of course), and serving him breakfast and lunch, you don't interact with diluc very often. you find that he's easy to ignore.
once he starts walking, of course, that's a different story. the redhead is tall and his hair is a brilliant vermillion. it sticks out against the soft green grasses like a sore thumb and shines in the light. even in the comfort of your cottage, it stands out against the dull decor, fading paint, and worn furniture. diluc's crutches click against the floor with each step he takes and his presence is no longer quiet.
he's the type to always stay moving, even if his body says otherwise.
once he's comfortable with walking again, diluc interrupts you as you start making dinner. despite sharing the same house, the two of you scarcely speak with nor acknowledge each other out of meal times, so the sudden noise of his voice causes you to jolt in shock.
"may i help you cook?" diluc asks. after you get over your initial scare, you realize that his words didn't sound like much of a question. the words are more of a formality than anything and you realize that he will not let this go until you say yes. which, of course, you don't, because you're not allowed to let some stranger come into your house and order you around, even if it would ease your workload.
"go sit back down," you urge and you hear diluc sigh as he realizes that you aren't going to budge either. despite your order, he lingers, the corners of his lips twitching with annoyance. of course he's not going to budge either, you think. asshole.
so, in response to his stubbornness, you decide to throw it back in his face.
"are you saying my cooking is bad?" you challenge and diluc's eyes widen as his uninjured foot shifts backwards slightly. despite his balancing act on crutches, diluc still manages to take a step back at your challenging tone.
"what? no. i'm not," diluc backtracks his words and you feel slightly bad at the way he sounds on edge, but you weren't about to have this borderline stranger interrupt your cooking when he needed to rest.
"then go sit down." you say and diluc, surprisingly, folds and walks over to the dining table where he once lay just a few days ago. you glance over as he sits down in a chair and he stares at you, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in the chair. you pause your cooking and stare back. unlike usual, diluc is the one to break the silence.
"why did you save me?" diluc's question is abrupt. you swirl the wooden spoon in the pot in front of you while attempting to think of an answer.
"dead bodies are a pain to deal with," you respond as you take the spoon out of the dish and tap it on the side to remove any excess liquid. diluc lets out a soft huff of amusement at your words, yet that fails to ease the current resentment you hold towards him.
"is that all?" diluc asks. you look over at him once more with raised eyebrows as you drop the spoon into the small pile of the day's dirty dishes.
"do you not believe me?" you say, yet your voice lacks the embittered tone from earlier. you can't blame diluc if he doesn't. you barely believe anything he says to begin with.
"i am just curious as to your answer," diluc says. you can tell it pains him to watch you prepare dinner without any assistance from him whatsoever, yet he can leave his heroics for another time.
if you were being honest, you didn't quite know the answer to his question yourself. sure, you could pull a half-baked lie out of your ass about how you could 'never let someone suffer' if you saw them in the condition he had been in. it would be honorable to have such notions, but you had never been the type to play hero. after life had handed you such an awful fate, you could take what semblance of normalcy you could get.
and yet, you had thrown it all away on a rainy day to save a man you had never interacted with before. you had thrown away your safety. if the fatui were to find the two of you, your throat would be slashed and your body would never be found. you would die not the death of a hero, but the death of a fool.
you look back down at the pot of food in front of you, watching as the soup boils and bubbles within. why had you saved diluc? on that fateful stormy day, why had your roughened heart softened to let in a man who seemed to be more trouble than he was worth? you weren't honorable. you would never be. you couldn't be.
the timer you had set earlier, mechanically ticking away next to the heated pot, dings, signaling the dish's completion. it snaps you out of your thoughts and you blink as you remember where you are. wordlessly, you extinguish the fire that fuels the stove and take a step back, allowing the soup to cool.
"when i find the answer," you say slowly, voice far softer. "i'll be sure to let you know."
---
the air has a light breeze to it, making the typical morning chill just a bit fiercer than usual. you slip on a coat for that reason and depart your bedroom. you glance at the closed door to the spare room. by now, it was no longer an extra bedroom. rather, diluc would be its sole occupier for the next several months.
today marks ten days since diluc made his rather unceremonious arrival to your doorstep. it also marks the first day since the two of you came to an agreement about diluc's living situation for the foreseeable future. you had agreed, like a damned fool, to let him stay for the next several months. worst of all, you had offered.
the conversation had been short. the redhead had offered to pay rent. you declined. the redhead then insisted on paying rent. you declined once more, albeit more harshly. the two of you came to a begrudging agreement. you wanted nothing in return, while diluc wanted to reward your hospitality. therefore, you two had decided that diluc would pay for groceries
you provided him with the ideal hiding place. a worn down little farm was no fit for a man of his status. you still weren't sure who he was, but claymore wielders weren't exactly those born into unaffluent conditions. it was a peculiar choice of weapon, therefore typically only used by those who could afford both the training and the heaping chunks of metal that claymores required.
plus, his manners were impeccable, aside from his insistence on trying to repay his weird debt to you or whatever he told himself. to you, diluc owed you nothing. as long as you made it out of this situation alive, you wouldn't care. and if you didn't live? who cares? you would be dead.
it's not like there was anyone to cry over the death of the little isolated farmer in the fields of fontaine.
you snap out of your daze as diluc's door creeps open. he wears the only spare outfit you had that would fit him. an old, blank white shirt. he wears the pants he arrived in, albeit with the leg cropped severely on one side to accommodate for his cast that now traverses the entire expanse of his leg.
it's rather ugly, if you say so yourself.
"i'll pick you up clothes the next time i head to the market," you blurt and diluc stares at you, still half-asleep and struggling to comprehend your words.
"good morning to you too," he responds, completely unenthused. you stare unapologetically at him. you probably should have greeted him, yet it's too late to backtrack.
"there's food in the pantry," you tell him, before walking to the hall closet and taking out your worn work boots. "i will be off the premises today. if somebody finds you, you're the only one that lives here. got it?"
diluc nods and you walk down the hall, entering the kitchen once more. you sit down at the dining table, perched sideways on one of its chairs and shimmy on your shoes. diluc follows after you and hovers, watching from the hallway entrance as you get ready to leave.
diluc parts his lips as if he wants to say something, yet can't figure out the words. you let out a sigh as you decide to indulge him, even though you don't really care about whatever he has to say to you. if it was important, he would say it.
"what?" you ask, standing up and smoothing out the fabric of your pants.
"could i request something additional from the grocery?" diluc asks and you look at him blankly.
"you're the one paying for the groceries," you remind him. "so, uh, yeah."
diluc glances away from you, cheeks flushing slightly. "i would appreciate if you could pick up some grape juice."
"grape juice?" you ask, slowly. an odd request from a man who is ripped to the high heavens, yet you have realized that diluc himself is an odd man. stoic and reserved, yet odd nonetheless. "sure. got a brand preference?"
diluc's vermillion gaze snaps upward to meet your eyes, who look at him with absolute disinterest. somehow, this seems to calm his slight embarrassment at asking for such a childish beverage.
"dawn winery, if they sell it," diluc responds before glancing over once more.
"dawn winery?" you echo and diluc looks slightly nervous at your interrogation. "isn't that like... super expensive?"
"oh," diluc responds. "i can afford it."
you stare at him. maybe you should have charged him rent if he can afford that overpriced, not very good grape juice.
"got it," you confirm, still slightly weirded out by his awkwardness over the whole thing. "anything else?" you shuffle over to the doorway and glance back over your shoulder, patting your coat pocket to ensure the bag of mora was tucked in your pocket.
diluc clears his throat.
"return safe, okay?" his order is softly spoken. you nod.
"i'll try," you say and slip out of the door. it was just a simple grocery run. if anything was going to threaten your safety, it would be staying in the house with diluc. after all, the fatui couldn't accuse you of anything if you weren't caught in the house alongside him.
for a man who had multiple broken bones, diluc was rather worried about people that weren't him. you didn't quite understand it but, despite the way his righteousness and self-sacrificial attitude bothered you, you found yourself admiring it. such a personality would result in statues being made of him, should his heroism actually be vocalized.
yet somehow, the honorable prince that diluc was a few steps (and non-broken bones) was somehow relying on the humble farmer for survival. you only hope it won't bite him in the ass.
but, most of all, you only hope that you won't grow attached.
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Damian Wayne x Reader
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♡ Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader
♡ Relationship Status: Dating
♡ Type: Fluff
♡ Requested: @yourcatcoffeeaddictfan
♡ Gender: Female Reader
♡ Prompt: "It's time to get up."
♡ Au: Normal Au
♡ Warnings: There's nothing sexual going on, but both Damian and the Reader are 18.
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The morning rays cracked through the gap in the curtains, shining on the two people lying in bed. Birds chirped, and flew around, beginning their days. Damian and (Y/n) lay in their bed, still fast asleep in a tangled mess of limbs. Subconsciously pulling (Y/n) closer to his shirtless frame, Damian lowly groaned as a buzzing noise filled the bedroom. Sighing in annoyance, the male attempted to turn off the noise.
Gently removing his arms from her waist, Damian rolled over and reached for his phone, charging on the bedside table, hastily turning off the alarm. Sighing, he ran his hands through his messy locks, attempting to somewhat fix his bedhead. His eyes trailed over towards (Y/n) who was still fast asleep, burrowing herself deeper into the blankets. 
Moving closer to her, Damian lightly shook her shoulder, a fond smile on his face. "Beloved, It's time to get up," he spoke, his voice a little raspy, having just woken up. However, only receiving a groan in response from the girl. Continuing to shake her shoulder, the girl finally turned towards him. Rubbing her eyes in an attempt to wake herself up a bit more. 
Lightly groaning, she looked at him with a quizzical expression. Smirking at her lightly, he spoke. "It's time to get out of bed." Letting out a playful and dramatic groan, she flopped herself back onto the mattress. Damian rolled his eyes, getting out of bed, lightly hissing when his feet hit the cold floors. Opening the bathroom door, he glanced back to (Y/n). 
Seeing her begin to go back underneath the covers, he spoke up. "Beloved, I'd better not find you in bed." Smiling in satisfaction as he watched her get out of bed, a very annoyed look on her. Entering the bathroom, she washed her face with cold water, hoping to wake herself up a bit more. "We're going over to Grayson's later." The male glanced at her, waiting for an answer. "Yeah, I know."
Walking back into the bedroom, (Y/n) opened the closet, pulling out one of Damian's turtle necks, some jeans, as well as her socks and undergarments. Quickly changing into the clothes, she rolled her shoulders to wake them up. "At least we get to skip training today," she mumbled, hoping Damian hadn't heard her. Arms wrapped around her waist as Damian rested his head on top of hers. 
"Unlikely." He spoke, having obviously heard her. His eyes trailed to the top she was wearing. "Beloved, why are you so insistent on taking my clothing?" Damian asked, "Do you want me to stop?" (Y/n) responded, glancing into his emerald green eyes. "No, you look ravishing in my clothing." He mumbled. Humming in response, (Y/n) finally took notice of the lack of a shirt on Damian. "You should get changed, Dami."
"I suppose." He mumbled, rummaging through the cupboard, pulling out his own clothes and shooing (Y/n) away, as she laughed, shutting the door behind her. Sliding down the railing, she hopped off, entering the kitchen to make breakfast for two of them and Titus. Washing her hands, she dried them and began to cook. First filling up Titus's food and water bowls. Deciding on just making the toast. Adding a few strawberries to both the plates, as well as some tea, since Damian wasn't the biggest fan of coffee.
Just as (Y/n) finished setting the table, and putting out Titus's food, Damian came downstairs, Titus following right behind him. Lightly kissing her temple, Damian sat down. "Thank you for making breakfast." He paused to take a sip of his tea. "It was delicious." (Y/n) grinned at him, silently thanking him for the compliment. 
After this, (Y/n) collected the plates and mugs. Damian offered to help with washing the dishes before they headed out. Scrubbing away at the dishes,  (Y/n) finally finished rinsing out the dishes, handing them to Damian who dried them off. Finally drying their hands, the two walked towards the front door, where their shoes were. 
Putting on their shoes, (Y/n) placed her hand on the doorknob, stopping as Damian piped up. "Beloved, I believe you are forgetting someone important." Turning around to look at him, with an irritated expression, she spoke. "We are not bringing Titus." Watching as Damain recoiled in horror. "And what is the reasoning for that." An equally irritated expression adorned his features. "We're only going to be gone for a few hours Damian, he'll be fine."
"And how would you possibly know that?" He glanced at her, awaiting a response. Rolling her eyes at him, (Y/n) grabbed her phone and keys and exited through the front door. Flabbergasted at the gesture action, Damian quickly petted Titus goodbye and grabbed his things before leaving and locking the door behind him.
(Y/n) was already in the car, in the passenger seat scrolling through her phone, and could do little to stop the small smirk that played its way onto her face when Damian finally got in the car. An annoyed scowl set on his face. Starting the car as the two pulled out onto the driveway, still very annoyed. "We could have taken Titus with us." He grumbled out when he realized that (Y/n) wasn't going to fall for his petty attitude. Gently placing her hand on the one he wasn't using, (Y/n) gently smiled at him. "Titus will be fine, we'll be back home soon anyway." 
Letting out a defeated sigh, Damian kept his eyes on the road, rubbing circles on (Y/n)'s palm as she was doing something uninteresting to him on her phone. She would occasionally look up from her phone when Damian pointed out something that had changed since the last time they'd come here. Soon, the neighborhood they pulled into became familiar. Making a final turn, Damian parked the car in Dick and Kori's driveway, turning off the engine but slightly frowning when he let go of (Y/n)'s hand.
Walking up to the front door, (Y/n) rung the doorbell, and not long after Kori opened the door. Pulling (Y/n) into a hug, Kori said gleefully. "(Y/n), it's been too long!" quietly laughing as she pulled back from the hug, as Kori turned to Damian. "Hello Damian." She smiled at him warmly as he waved uninterested. "So, where's Dick?" (Y/n) asked, peering over Kori's shoulder.
"I would also wish to know the whereabouts of Grayson." Damiam piped up. "I actually left him in the kitchen, he's making dinner." She spoke with a worried look on her face. A string if curses left the kitchen, which the three heard. Realization dawned on Kori's face, as she opened the door wider. "It's pretty cold outside, please come in." Thanking her, (Y/n) grabbed Damian's hand and dragged him into the house with her.
For the next few hours, Kori and (Y/n) engaged in conversations that were either beyond Damian's understanding, or his interest. For the most part, he was on his phone, reading something in Arabic but he was grateful that (Y/n) would try to involve him in their conversations, even if he was giving one word answers. Soon, Dick called them into the to eat, as the three sighed, finally happy to eat something.
Upon entering the dining room, the three glanced at the food that was spread out. Half of it looked over cooked, while the other half appeared to be undercooked. Kori and (Y/n) tried their best to be polite, thanking Dick for making the wonderful food, however this wasn't the case for Damian. "What is this rubbish?" As he glared at the food in complete disgust. "The only thing that doesn't look burnt is the salad." He crossed his arms.
Delivering a swift kick to his shin from underneath the table, (Y/n) interrupted him. "It looks lovely Dick, thank you for making the food." Glaring at Damian. From there, Kori and (Y/n) forced down the food, as to not hurt Dick's feelings. Whereas Damian completely refused to eat anything. When the food was finished, the four were ingaging in some light conversation.
"So (Y/n)," Dick began, as (Y/n) glanced at him, awaiting his question. "Can you cook?" He asked. "I guess so, not anything too complicated though." She quietly laughed when Damian rolled his eyes and spoke up. "You give yourself too little credit, Beloved. I'm sure you could cook much better than Grayson and Kori" Watching as Kori feigned mock offense, however Dick was quiet the opposite.
"Well, I bet Kori is much better than (Y/n) at a lot of things," he narrowed his eyes in Damian's direction. "Do you wish to name those things?" Damian glared back with just as much intensity. "Yes, just take how strong Kori is." Dick said gesturing to his girlfriend, as Damian scoffed at him. "My Beloved could rival Kori's strength effortlessly." "But she can't fly can she?" Dick responded, adding fuel to the fire.
Both Kori and (Y/n) both made uncomfortable eye contact, watching the two males argue back and forth. Kori gestured for them to slip away, as they both got up but Dick and Damian were too invested in their argument that the two didn't notice. Back in the living room, the two females sat there in silence for a moment before bursting out into fits of giggles and laughter. As their laughter died down, (Y/n) spoke up.
"I'm really sorry about Damian." As Kori shook her hand in dismissal. "Its alright, Dick is just as bad." As (Y/n) nodded in response. The two decided to play a game of card to pass the time. Roughly an hour in, Damian came in and looked around the room. Once he'd spotted (Y/n) he grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the house. "We're leaving, I refuse to be around to Grayson's utter stupidity." Quickly waving goodbye to Kori, she let Damian drag her into the car.
"You seem mad, huh?" (Y/n) stated in a teasing tone of voice. Rolling his eyes and refusing to look at her, Damian continued to drive. Once again grabbing the hand that he wasn't using, (Y/n) began to trace small shapes on his knuckles with her fingers. It was a silent attempt to calm him down, which more often than not, worked. Letting out a sigh, Damian spoke. "Thank you." Humming in response, (Y/n) continued to play with his fingers.
At something during the car ride, (Y/n) stopped tracing shapes on Damian's hand, he turned to glance at her, smiling in content as he noticed that she'd fallen asleep. He was thankful to have her, even if he didn't often show it. That was the exact reason he'd fired up when Dick tried to compare her to Kori. It was nights like this, he was grateful he could experience.
"Good night, Beloved."
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How was that? I hope you liked it!
- Pinky
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(Not) Such A Good Boy
sub!bf!Juyeon x dom!fem!reader (ft. Eric, Kevin and Hyunjae)
genre: smut, slight crack, a bit of fluff towards the end
contains: dom/sub themes, degradation, oral sex (f receiving), marking, biting, spanking, Juyeon is a brat on a choker and a leash, unprotected sex (be safe y’all)
Author’s note: This man right there has been wrecking my existence lately (I blame Kingdom) and this GIF screams sub!Juyeon so yeah, enjoy this filth
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“Lee Juyeon, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me”, you scoff under your breath. You have been waiting for the past twenty minutes in the living room, outfit and makeup on point, since you were about to go clubbing with your group of friends. But apparently, your dear boyfriend had lost all sense of time, trying to get ready.
Visibly irritated, you storm to your shared bedroom, your heels angrily clicking on the wooden floor. “Juyeon, I swear to God-” you mutter and stop mid-sentence, only to see your boyfriend leaning on the door, fully dressed and a lop-sided smirk plastered on his handsome face. 
“You called, babe?”, he asks teasingly and before rolling your eyes, you give him an once-over, processing his choice of clothes - a pair of tight black leather pants that were hugging his muscular thighs deliciously, a pair of black combat boots, a cropped black sweater with holes around his clavicles and a black belt-like choker around his neck. He was the epitome of the emo bad boy that all parents hated and all girls craved. 
“Um, what is this?”, you question him with a pointing finger. "That, is my outfit for tonight", Juyeon states, the previous smirk still on his face, "What, you don't like it?". "Isn't it a bit unfair for me to wear not so revealing clothes all while you're dressed as an emo himbo?", you complain and he laughs, "An emo himbo? Wow, you're getting more creative with your descriptions, Y/N. You're right though, it's a sort of questionable outfit". You perk up at his response, hoping he'll change into something more colorful and less hole-adorned, only to be utterly disappointed, as Juyeon reached into the closet only to drape a black leather jacket on top of his broad shoulders. "Now we're good to go", he turns to you and winks with audacity. Brat, you scoff mentally and pick up the keys to unlock the door and finally leave your shared apartment.
"Finally! What the fuck took you so long?!", your friend Eric yells at you, trying to overcome the loud bass of the club speakers. "Your complaints to your friend over there, he was the one who took twenty minutes to get ready", you roll your eyes pointing to Juyeon, who was greeting Hyunjae and Kevin, your other friends. "Yooo, Juyeon, what's up with the collar, bro?", Eric amusingly points out. "It's a choker, you tasteless twat. But what would you know of fashion, since you only know how to wear t-shirts and ripped jeans?", Kevin comments and Juyeon mouths a 'thank you' to him. "Simple is the best, my dear friend. Besides, I've been getting all the girls, unlike you and your snake print jacket", Eric retaliates. "Excuse you, this jacket is a fashion statement!", Kevin bites back, feeling insulted. "Not gonna lie though, it does look like a collar. Will you put him on a leash too, Y/N?", Hyunjae comments in a snarky way, making Eric cringe in disgust. "Hyunjae, please go get some drinks, for God's sake", you reply with a dismissive manner. "Yes ma'am", he rolls his eyes and goes to the bartender.
You turn to Juyeon, who was extremely stiff after Hyunjae's comment. "You okay, baby?", you nudge him softly and he's brought back to reality. "Y-yeah, I'm fine, no worries", Juyeon replies, praying that the loud bass could cover his shaky voice. "Don't listen to Eric and Hyunjae, they have zero fashion sense, bro. I would wear that choker too, looks hella good on you", Kevin adds while pointing to the choker and Juyeon's smile is back on his face, "Thanks, bro, I really appreciate it", he replies with a chirpy tone.
The music suddenly changes into a slower jam and Juyeon smirks devilishly, as he winks at you and walks towards the dance floor. You watched as he starts swaying his hips and shoulders in the most smooth way possible, his half-lidded eyes never leaving yours. Eric and Kevin were whistling and cheering on Juyeon, all while Hyunjae was snorting at their antiques. You were simply lost in the image of your boyfriend dancing like there was no tomorrow. He wasn't just following the rhythm, he was riding it - and boy, was he good at doing so.
In fact, he was so good that he gained the attention of many people in the club. And you were lowkey proud, because that man was yours. However, a certain girl wasn't aware of that - hence why she approached Juyeon and started dancing with him. You were a bit jealous, not gonna lie, but the next moment made your blood fucking boil.
He had the fucking audacity to put his hands on her waist and dance with her - all while looking to you over her shoulder with the most smug expression on his face. That fucker, you mentally curse. This was definitely payback for everything you said before you left the house. You just knew it. You weren't even the jealous or possessive type of girlfriend to begin with.
But you'd be damned if you were to let a random bitch run her hands over your boyfriend.
Hyunjae catches up to your motions and he grabs you by your wrist. "Hyunjae, what the f-" "Shut up and listen to me. Going there and creating a scene will not end up well for you and you will give Juyeon exactly what he wants", he states and his words hit home faster that you expected. "Since when did you become so perceptive?", you raise an eyebrow and he chuckles, "I have my moments too, Y/N". "So, since your brain decided to actually function tonight, do you have any idea?" you ask in defeat and Hyunjae starts pulling you to the dance floor by your hand, leaving Eric and Kevin completely baffled. He then pulls you into his chest and leans in your ear to whisper
"Just dance, Y/N".
A Cheshire cat-like grin spreads on your lips, as you catch up to his ulterior motive and you start dancing with Hyunjae, hoping that Juyeon will notice the two of you. "Don't think too much about it, it will happen naturally", he adds, "You're too stiff, Y/N, just relax and enjoy dancing".
His words actually succeed in making you relax and you sway your hips more comfortably, actually enjoying the slow jams echoing through the club speakers. Under the dim lights, you lock eyes momentarily with Juyeon, who was licking his lips and his gaze was a mix of lust and death glares, the last one directed to Hyunjae. "Told you it would work", he comments, "You owe me this one". "Shut the fuck up, Hyunjae", you spit back and he laughs.
However, his laughter is cut short by a very jealous Juyeon, who has grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Next time I see you dance with Y/N, I'll break your fucking kneecaps", he growls and Hyunjae takes a step back, "She's all yours, bro", he raises his hands in defense and returns to the table. Juyeon then turns to you, his blood still boiling with jealousy, as you watch him with a proud smirk.
"You find this funny, huh? Dancing shamelessly with my friend?", he clenches his jaw. You then thread a finger through his choker and pull him close to your face, making Juyeon gasp. "Funny? No honey, I'm fucking fuming right now, because you decided to act like a brat and put your hands on the first bitch that threw herself on you", you retaliate, your chill facade slipping away. A sickly sweet smile adorns Juyeon's face as he watches every single movement of yours. He lowers his head, his lips hanging mere centimeters over yours and he slyly pokes out his tongue to lick your lips, hissing at the wet feeling.
"You're so fucking hot when you're mad, baby".
That was the last straw.
"Get your stuff, we're going home", you announce and he flashes a toothy grin. "Yes ma'am", he replies almost immediately and you return to your friends' table. "Guys, we'll be leaving now, hope you enjoy the rest of the night!" you announce and Eric looks between Juyeon and you. "Do I want to know what's going on?", he questions and Kevin pats him on the back while shaking his head as in 'no'. You both bid farewell to your friends and you walk out of the club, jogging towards your car. Juyeon whips out the cars keys and he opens the door for you, his gentleman-like gesture a complete contrast to his previous bratty behaviour.
The ride back home feels like it lasted for hours, when in reality, it lasted only ten minutes - maybe it's your sheer desire to fuck your handsome boyfriend to oblivion. By the time you entered your shared apartment, your lips were on Juyeon's neck, your hands roaming his toned body and his arms wrapped around your waist.
"You love acting like a bratty slut, don't you?", you sneer at him and he releases a breathy chuckle. "Yeah, and so do you", he whispers and he trails kisses upon your neck and behind your ear, nibbling your earlobe. "Are you going to punish me for being a bratty slut?".
You thought you came right there and then, 'cause fuck, he is so hot like this.
"Is that what you want? Fine then, you'll get the punishment you deserve, slut", you hiss while gripping Juyeon's jaw, your manicured nails raking his porcelain skin, "Don't say I didn't warn you", you whisper into his ear and he releases one of the lewdest sounds you've ever heard in your life. "God, you're a desperate little bitch, aren't you, Lee Juyeon?", you ask while removing the detachable strap of your bag and clasp it on his choker, creating a make-shift leash. "Only for you, baby", he replies with a sultry voice and half-lidded eyes.
You pull him by the make-shift leash, and you push him onto the couch, where you settle yourself on his lap, his hard cock straining his already tight pants. You remove his shirt, exposing his chiseled body. Wasting no time, you attack his collarbones with your lips, trailing red and purple blotches on his soft skin. You bite the juncture of his neck teasingly and he releases breathy moans, making you chuckle. You grind your clothed core on his bulge, and the sweet friction makes Juyeon mewl again. He tries to reach for your crotch with his hand, but you stop him by pulling the leash, making him gasp.
"No sweetheart, no touching tonight", you chastise him, as you pull back to remove your clothes and his pants, leaving the both of you only in your underwear. Juyeon's bulge is even more evident now, the thin material of his boxers having a wet spot, due to his cock leaking pre-cum. The sight in front of you makes your own wetness pool in your panties - your boyfriend on a leash, his perfectly styled hair now disheveled, his upper torso covered in love bites, his muscular thighs fully spread and his cock straining against his boxers.
"Baby, fuck, please do something", he pleads with bleary eyes. "Lie down for me", you order and he's laid flat on his back with one swift motion, his desperation showing. You remove your underwear and place your naked pussy right in front of his face. He reaches for your thighs with his arms, but you slap them away. "I said, no touching", you say sternly, "But-", "You should have thought twice before touching that bitch with your hands. Now, be a good boy and use your pretty mouth", you demand.
Juyeon pushes his wet tongue into your heat without second thought and he's lapping up your juices like a starved man. You can't help but moan with satisfaction, having him under your control like that gave you a huge adrenaline rush. You raked your nails from his torso to the hem of his boxers, the sensation making him moan and momentarily halt his actions. You slap his left thigh to alert him and his cock twitches, the vibrations of his moans coursing through your body as well. Juyeon now flattens his tongue against your folds with a faster tempo.
"You like it when I spank you, huh? Naughty boy", you smirk and land another slap, this time on his right thigh. Juyeon retaliates by sucking on your clit harshly, making you yelp from pleasure and you feel him smirk against your pussy. You find the leash and tug it, pulling Juyeon's face even closer to your core. "Behave, or you'll sleep without cumming tonight", you warn him and he whines, but resumes his efforts nonetheless. "Good boy, k-keep it u-up", you stutter as you feel your high approach with each passing second. His tongue is alternating between circling your clit and pumping in and out of your hole, the squelching sounds creating a pornographic scene.
You scream as you cum on Juyeon's face, your whole body shaking, as he helps you ride out your orgasm with kitten licks. You pull yourself together and turn around to face him, as he nastily licks his lips to taste your essence. "Sweet like fucking candy", he comments, "Want a taste, baby?". You pull him by the leash and crash your lips on his, tasting yourself, as your tongues dance crazily in a battle of dominance. "You're still acting like a brat, but since you did as I said, maybe you deserve to cum after all", you state and bend down to remove his boxers and free his painfully hard erection.
"Y/N, stop fucking teasing already!", Juyeon whines again and you slap his thigh again, "Where did your manners go, baby?".
"Please, Y/N..."
"Please what?"
"Please use my cock to cum"
"Fuck, such a good boy", you moan and spear yourself onto his hard cock, the sudden stretch tipping between pain and pleasure. You give yourself almost no time to adjust and you start riding Juyeon like a mad woman. He pistons his hips in unison, pounding into you with a speed neither of your brains are able to register. You put your hands on his broad chest for support and he holds your hips with his hands so tight you might get bruises the next day. Neither of you are able to contain your obscene moans nor form coherent sentences, way too lost in pleasure and lust.
"Fuck, Juyeon, you're such a good boy, so good for me", "Only for you Y/N, shit- only yours", he groans and his hips start to falter, signaling his upcoming orgasm. "I-I'm close again, nngh..", you mewl as you feel your insides clench around his cock like a vice. "M-Me too, Y/N please let me cum, let me f-fill you up baby", "Oh God, yes, fill me with your cum, babe", you moan loudly.
Juyeon moans with you as he stills himself, his cock twitching uncontrollably and flooding your cunt with his hot cum, painting your insides white. You collapse on top of him, panting heavily, the both of you sweating and spent, laughing breathlessly. You muster all the strength you have left in you to remove the choker from Juyeon's neck.
"Oof, thank you baby", he nods, rubbing his neck softly. You swipe a few dark strands of his forehead. You notice the marks on his neck the choker left and you can't help but feel a little regretful. "Did I hurt you?", you ask sheepishly and Juyeon smiles softly and presses a kiss on your nose. "No baby, you were perfect. We should do this more often, actually. You look hella sexy when you take control", he teases and you playfully smack his chest.
"So you intend to dance with random girls in clubs?", you ask and Juyeon smirks,
"No, but I intend to be not such a good boy for you".
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eternalsimp · 3 years
Text
Cursed Fears
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Word Count: 3096
Warnings: aged up Megumi, use of female pronouns, swearing, mentions of violence, spoilers for episodes 5 and 6, mention of character death, slight sexual themes toward the end, angst, minors dni.
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The sound of the rain steadily increasing was the only sound in your apartment as you waited patiently for your boyfriend. Your laptop displayed that it was midnight as you lazily scribbled statistics solutions onto the notes app of your tablet. Once you felt you reached a stopping point you got up to find a long sleeve to stave off the cold that seeped into the apartment from the storm. Striding over to your closet to pull out something to remind you of him. As you grabbed his signature grey shirt, you were immediately hit with the soft scent of cedar-wood. It was thin and soft from years of use. It hung loosely and brought you a sort of comfort as you counted down the minutes ‘til he got home. You weren’t a sorcerer, but you were well aware of the dangers that your friends went out and faced, and the panic in the back of your mind grew louder as the hours passed since Megumi had walked out of the door.
You stifled a yawn as you finally heard the lock to your front door click open and shut. You closed your eyes and stretched your back to loosen the knots that formed from doing your homework on the living room floor. As you made your way to the door to greet your boyfriend, he was frantically kicking his shoes off and stripping himself of his jacket.
“Hey love, how was it?” you said softly while reaching for his rain-soaked torso. He flinched away from your touch, eyes wide and afraid. His blue eyes scan your confused face before he blinks slowly and takes a shuddering breath.
“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to still be up.” He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before retreating to the bathroom. The smell of blood, dirt, and god knows what else isn’t lost on you as he tries to pass you quickly. You bend to pick his jacket off of the floor where he had tossed it in his haste, and walk to your shared bedroom to put it in the laundry basket. You open the drawers to his side of the dresser to pull out his favorite sweats and a plain white tee-shirt, before gently placing them on the bathroom counter where he is aggressively scrubbing his face. 
“You’re gonna get sick if you stay in those wet clothes much longer,” you say oh so matter of factly before pushing up on your toes to kiss the corner of his jaw. Your movements take him slightly off guard, which you use to your advantage to nudge him to a sitting position on the bench next to the shower. You run a washcloth under the warm water of the sink, move to stand between his legs, and gently brush the cloth against his temple. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch. You both sit in silence as you wipe the remnants of sweat and blood off of his face and neck. You notice the way he's holding your waist, hands so light his touch is barely there. Like he’s afraid you'll break if he makes a wrong move. After you finish wiping his face and neck, you tug at the hem of his soaked shirt and he complies with your wordless command to take it off. You step back out of the bathroom to toss it into the basket with his Jujustu Tech jacket.
When you walk back in, his head is leaning against the cool wall, letting you fully take stock of the bruises and cuts adorning the top half of his body. The worst of it looks like a slight split at the corner of his bottom lip and a shallow cut above one of his brows. You stride over to him and run your fingers through his black hair. “Baby,” you crooned softly. He gave a soft hum in acknowledgment as you nuzzled your nose into the top of his head. “I love you but you smell like a sewer, can you please shower before you fall asleep?” He sticks his tongue out playfully as you back away from him so he can stand up and move towards the shower. 
Though his normal stoic behavior wouldn’t concern you, you still can’t shake the terrified look on his face when he first entered the apartment. How tense he’s holding himself and the way that he’s obviously trying not to worry you. His eyes linger on your face like he’s trying to memorize every aspect of it before he drops his gaze and shakes whatever thought he had out of his head.
You settle back on the living room floor between the coffee table and the couch and turn your attention back to your college notes. You only have time to pick your stylus back up before your phone starts vibrating in your pocket. You look down and see Itadori’s name scrawled across the screen along with a picture of him smiling next to your grouchy-looking boyfriend.
“Hey Yuuji, what’s up?”
“Hey y/n, I know it's late but I just wanted to make sure Fushiguro got back okay.”
“Yeah, he’s in the shower. Do you want me to have him call you when he’s out?”
“No… I just… did he seem okay when he got back?”
You chewed on the corner of your mouth for a second, “I mean, he seemed kinda unsettled but that’s not unusual for when he comes back from your guys' missions.”
“Yeah… yeah you’re right. I don’t know, he just seemed off after everything. Never mind.”
You hear the water shut off in the other room and quirk a brow. “Yuuji you better spit it out or else I’m gonna come over there and start cutting your fingers off! What are you not telling me?”
“On that note, I gotta go. Just talk to him, okay?”
“Wait Yuuji-” the line goes dead before you can press him with more questions. You stuff your phone back into your pocket and tap your stylus on your tablet for a couple of minutes. Just talk to him. Gore and violence are nothing new to Megumi, and he isn’t easily fazed, so what would shake him so bad that even Yuuji is worried?
You’re pulled from your thoughts both literally and figuratively when you feel a pair of muscular arms lift you onto the couch behind you. You are once again settled between your boyfriend's legs as you’re pressed against his strong chest. You yelp and try to wiggle out of his grasp but his years of training with the other Jujustu Sorcerers, even after graduating, leave him with an iron grip on your hips. 
“Hang on let me grab my notes,” you protest. He presses his face into your neck and whines. After a few moments of struggling against him, you manage to snatch your tablet and pen off the ground and open it to your last question. You adjust yourself so your shoulder is against his chest and you can lazily drape your legs over his thigh. He rests his cheek against the crown of your head and readjusts his arms around you so he can still hold you tightly while not blocking your view of your classwork. You scribble notes for a few more minutes before deciding that him falling asleep in this position will mean him complaining of a sore neck in the morning, what with the awkward way it's twisted to lean against you. You could feel his body getting heavier against your own. You remembered what Yuuji had told you, and in an effort to keep him awake, you decided to ask what had been nagging you since he got back home. 
“Are you okay?” All you get in response is another hum from your barely awake boyfriend. You shift again and reach up to run your fingers through his still-damp hair, “‘Gumi, baby, you shouldn't fall asleep here. Let’s go to bed.” He chuckles lightly at the nickname you gave him way back when you first started dating, and how you save it for private moments like this. 
“I just wanna hold you for a bit longer, I promise we’ll get up soon.” Megumi finally murmurs. You don’t miss the way his jaw clenches as you try to fix your gaze upon him. You sigh and set your tablet down before turning to straddle Megumi’s lap and force him to look at you. 
“What’s wrong, you’re more distant than usual?” You rest your hands on either side of his face and turn him to look at you. He avoids eye contact and suddenly you’re looking at the guarded 16-year-old boy who refused to open up to anyone when you first met. You lean to rest your forehead against his as he focuses his gaze somewhere between your jaw and the base of your throat. “Please talk to me? What happened out there?”
Megumi struggles internally on how much to tell you. You mindlessly stroke his cheeks with your thumbs and he finds himself settling his hands back on your waist again, with the same feather-light touch that you would use with glass. Finally, you get his answer in the form of a whisper.
“I’m scared I’m gonna lose you…”
You immediately pull your head back to look at him straight on only to be met with a faraway gaze. You furrow your brows together and squeeze his face just enough to get his attention. His eyes snap to yours and you can see the tears starting to prick at the corners. “I’m not going anywhere ‘Gumi.” You smile at him before pulling him closer to you and he buries his face into your neck.
“Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I’m scared I’m putting you in danger,” his voice is starting to waver, “You didn’t ask for this, any of this. I’m gone all the time, always on missions constantly putting both our lives in danger. I can’t even imagine what would happen if one of the special grades were to find out about you. It’s bad enough Sukuna knows you.” His voice cracked at the end of his sentence and you feel his chest shudder.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him. You nudge his face away from your shoulder and see the tears he’s been holding back finally fall. The only other time you can remember him crying like this was when he thought Yuji died. You go back to stroking his face and shushing him but it's too late, the dam is broken and he can no longer hold back the sobs. 
“What if I can’t protect you?” He continues to choke out his fears while you keep stroking his face lovingly and whispering soft reassurances to him that everything is going to be okay and you’re both safe. You let him cry into your chest until his strangled sobs slowly turn into soft sniffles.
“Feeling any better baby?” You gently push at his shoulders and lean him back again so you can look at him. He nods hesitantly and lets you wipe any remaining tears from under his now puffy eyes.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m just tired and I guess everything kinda boiled over all at once,” he sighs. You lean down to press a soft kiss to his lips and he instantly melts into it.
“Don’t be sorry Megumi, you can talk to me about anything.” You press another kiss to his forehead and continue rubbing small circles into his jaw to loosen the tension there. After a few moments of holding each other silently, you pipe your voice up again. “Yuji called, he seemed worried. Did something happen tonight?”
You felt Megumi go stiff underneath you before quickly relaxing into your touch again. “Itadori started to lose control and Sukuna was just being a dick, per usual.” You inhale sharply and try to remove yourself from his grasp, you are gonna kill those two one of these days. As if he could read your mind Megumi quickly grabbed your wrists effectively pinning you against his chest once again. “Okay no, stop it. Nothing happened, he was just being mouthy and trying to wind me up. Obviously, it worked...”
“I don’t give a shit what Sukuna says and neither should you. If by some miracle he is able to get out of their pact, Gojo and Yuji would never let anything happen, and neither would you.” You press your forehead against his again since he still has a firm grip on your wrists to keep you from moving away from him. “I don’t care what you think, the safest place for me is right here with you. Sukuna is just bitter that he’s in a cage so he’s decided to make it everyone else's problem.” Megumi chuckles lightly again before releasing your hands and replacing his arms around your waist. 
“We should go to bed, you have class in the morning.” He sighs. You crane your neck to see it’s well past 2 am, you stretch again to release the last couple of cracks in your spine and your boyfriend takes the opportunity to nip at your collarbones and make you squirm against him. 
“If you stop doing that I’ll stay home with you instead, deal?” He jerks his face away from your chest and gives you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. 
“Are you sure? You have exams this week right?” 
“There’s no point in going to a lecture if I’m just gonna fall asleep. I’ll study for my exams tomorrow after I wake up, but I’m planning on sleeping in tomorrow. Both of us need it.” He hums in agreement before trying to lift himself off the couch with you still in his arms. You gasp in surprise as you feel him wobble and stumble back into the couch cushions, tucking you into his neck with a hand to the back of your head to keep your faces from colliding. 
You look at each other and let out a chorus of laughter. You shake your head before pinching his nose gently. “For someone so smart, you are so fucking dumb sometimes.” He scrunches up his face and swats your hand away as you peel yourself out of his arms and off his lap.
“You know, I’ve done it before and I was confident I could do it again. Also, I gotta keep my pretty girl on her toes.” This time it was your turn to swat his hand away as he grabbed at your thighs and rear. You rolled your eyes comically at him and moved towards the bedroom. He jumps up, throws you over his shoulder, before unceremoniously plopping you on the bed with a speed you’ve only ever seen him possess. He hovers over you as he presses his mouth against you in a rushed, teeth-clashing kiss. You push at his shoulder so he can dramatically flop on his back and open his arms expectantly. 
“Give me a sec to change, I’ll be right back.” He whines like a child when you grab your pajama shorts and a tank top from the top of the dresser and stride into the bathroom. You’ve never known anyone to be as handsy as Megumi. He hates PDA and would never in a million years let strangers see through his cold, tough exterior. In the comfort of your home though, you quickly learned that he can never keep his hands to himself and they tend to wander on their own. He always wants to be touching you when you’re home together and he’ll whine and pout if he can’t. You can never find it in your heart to turn down his affection, especially on nights like this when he is feeling vulnerable and needs reassurance. Those nights are few and far between but you indulge your boyfriend in anything he needs whenever his facade starts to crack and you get glimpses of the version of him that he keeps carefully tucked away. 
You pull your jeans and his sweater off and quickly throw your pajamas on. You toss your clothes into the basket from the door and find your boyfriend sprawled on your side of the bed scrolling through his phone. You poke the middle of his back and yank the blanket, covering him from the waist down, to what's supposed to be his side of the bed. His jaw drops in mock offense before he's pulling your front flush against his chest once again. 
His lips latch onto yours again as he's tangling his legs with yours and threading his hands through your hair. You bring your hands under his shirt to stroke your fingertips lightly against his sides as his kisses grow needier and more urgent. One of his hands leaves your hair to grip your hips as he rolls his own into you desperately. You bring one hand to press against his chest lightly and move away from him for air. 
“Baby please…” he looks like he's on the verge of begging. His heart pounds heavily under your fingers on his chest. You press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.
“‘Gumi, you’re exhausted and very emotional right now, just go to sleep.” His bottom lip sticks out in a cute pout and you lift your hand to run your thumb over his protruding bottom lip. “I promise I will be here in the morning and we have all day tomorrow to hang out and do anything you want.” 
His brows quirk up and his mouth pulls into a smirk. “Anything?” He drops his head to try and catch your lips again but you evade him.
“Anything, if you go to sleep right now and wait ‘til morning.” He scrunches his nose up and huffs pathetically before moving to tuck one arm under your head and wrap the other around your waist protectively. You nuzzle your face into his chest to breathe in the usual smell of cedar-wood and a lingering scent of rain. One of your hands is tucked under his jaw while the other slips back beneath his shirt to keep tracing patterns up and down his sides. He shivers at the featherlight touch of your fingertips but melts into the hand you have on his face.
You can feel his breath growing more rhythmic and you glance up to see his eyes fluttering shut. You press one last kiss to his jaw before murmuring a quiet “I love you” into his chest. He squeezes the arm that's around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to him before you drift to sleep.
“I love you too baby. I promise I’ll always protect you.”
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seeds-and-sins · 3 years
Text
Right Time, Wrong Place.
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Pairing: John Seed x Reader
Rating: M (SMUT!! & Language)
Description: You take over John Seed’s ranch, have some me time in his bed, only to find that he was watching the whole thing on his secret security cameras.
Tagged: @ivyluv
      You had wanted revenge and you were determined to get it. It was as simple as that. Granted capturing John Seed's Ranch was just another box ticked for the resistance effort's chances of winning back Hope County, but for you? it was personal. The man stuffed you in a chair, tortured your best friend, and threatened to cut into your skin. To make matters worse, he looked like a whole damn meal while doing it. Speaking to you in that sinfully deep and rumbling tone that made you wet beyond imagine. Fuck that son of a bitch. Whoever stuffs you in a chair, tortures your friend, and threatens to cut you, loses their ranch. That's the deal, and it's final.
His response:
So. You've taken my home in the name of your little "Resistance." Ah, if those walls could talk... well, more accurately scream... Just know that I will get it back - sooner or later. And when I do, maybe I'll hang your skin as a trophy above the mantle.
    You raided John's secret wine cellar later that day, laughing your ass off over the recollection of irritation in John's voice. All it took was a little push to send the man snapping into rage and oblivion.
   You invaded all of John's privacy; following the wine cellar, came his office, following the office, came his kitchen, and then his own room. Everything was so neat and organized, the man didn't have one thing out of place. It was a testament in comparison to his unruly image when he would lose a few screws in agitation. His clothes were folded to perfection, placed into his drawers by color, style, or brand. For the clothes that weren't in his drawers, they were in his walk in closet; Gucci, Calvin Klein, Tom Ford O'Conner, and Brioni. The man was a walking advertisement, from his sunglasses to his shoes. You were certain that the outfit you had seen him in last costed about the same as your car in total. And now you had full access to everything...
"What the FUCK is she doing?!" John fumed, pacing back and forth in front of security monitors that lined the wall of his bunker office.
"Sir, we are doing everything we can-"
"Get out!" He demanded, bloodshot eyes settling on the screen, sweat beading down his forehead, as he watched you demolish his personal space. The bunker door shut behind him with an audible plank and he sunk back into a leather seat with a sigh of exasperation. You were driving him absolutely crazy: waltzing around his home as if it was your own, with his most expensive bottle of chardonnay no less.
    You were throwing pictures off the walls, moving furniture around, and wrecking his entire wardrobe with your slimey fingers. He was under distress simply watching it all unfold before his eyes, the massacre, the trauma, his beloved ranch was being destroyed. What would Joseph think of him right now? So distraught over the material pleasures that he had collected for himself over the years. They were really all he had anymore, aside from his family and the project. You were disrespecting him, but it's not like you hadn't before. Countless times you had undermined him for the sake of your little act as hero, nothing he hadn't gotten used to these past few weeks. He enjoyed the game of cat and mouse, the playful chase, but this? This was personal...
*Uh yeah so, Sharky and I are having a big bonfire out by the henbane. Some of the others will be there, you coming?*
"No thanks, Hurk..." You replied with a proud smile on your lips, fiddling with the many cologne bottles that flooded John's dresser. "I think I'll stay here. I'm enjoying myself."
*Well, that's-* Hurk was interrupted on the other end by the familiar voice of a pyromaniac on steroids. *Is that the deputy?! Tell her to get her ass over here, now, so we can start this party.* There was minor shuffling on the other end, the radio clicked out a few times as if it was being wrestled for. *Give it, man!-Stop that!* You chuckled at the image of Hurk and Sharky fighting over a walkie talkie in the middle of the batshit woods. You laughed at what Hurk Sr. was probably thinking of the whole ordeal as he watched from his porch.
"Alright boys, well, I'm staying here for the night so, catch ya' later." You immediately switched the frequency, dropping it down onto the dresser. You collected the bottle of wine you had discarded in John's wardrobe, taking long gulps of it as you took note of his belongings. The entire place smelled like him, you had only caught a whiff when he was devastatingly close to when you were captive, but it was enough to recognize the hints of sharp Dior, new shoes, and rose. The man was a sin in the flesh and he knew it all too well, recruiting to the cult hundreds of people that most certainly lusted after him in private. He would have had a hold on you if he hadn't had been pressing a scalpel to your throat, or sending off a bunch of red flags with that psychotic glimmer in his eyes.
   You could imagine though, fuel your darkest desires and daydreams as you stormed his castle. The wine helped, you had gone through half of the bottle as you adventured and you were starting to feel its effects. In your dreams, John was your lover. He was still a lawyer with the same successful edge and fortune to boot. He wasn't a crazy lunatic, following a bunch of other crazy lunatics. He was a man that fought for true justice, just as you had. And now, you were waiting for him to come home. You nearly dropped the bottle in your intense reverie. You carried the bottle into John's giant bathroom, you placed it on the edge of the tub, and turned the water on.
   The grime stuck to you from the days events; the mud had caked on, gunpowder dusting your face, and blisters, cuts and bruises, scattered across your body. For a moment, it brought you back into the harsh reality that you were in a war zone. That John was a dangerous man and that you were utilizing his home like some sort of fun house. You shook the thoughts of blood and violence from your mind, derobing yourself of the dirty clothes and weapons that hung from you. When the water was shallow enough, you turned it off, dropping one of John's assorted bath bombs into it and waiting a few seconds for the soap to take. You couldn't remember the last time you had taken a bath and John's bathtub was about the size of a hottub.
   You were in the bliss, the warm water engulfed your aching muscles and damaged flesh without hesitation, welcoming you into a trance of tranquility and calm. No bullets. No explosions. No expectations. Just you and this bath. Your mind wandered again as you rested in the lapping liquid, dirt and all sorts of substances leaving you like a weight being lifted off your chest. You could fantasize about John again, get back into the dream world you had created for yourself as you explored his home-correction; As you waited for John Seed to come home from his job as Hope County's trustworthy, kind, and loving lawyer.
    You lathered yourself with all sorts of special products that John kept perched on the tub's edge. You took fluid swigs from the nearly empty bottle of wine every now and again, until you decided you were clean enough. John could be home any minute after all. You stepped out of the tub, pulled the plug on the drain, and left the bathroom into the closet again. Not without what was left of the wine, of course. He would want to see you in something appealing on the eyes, something that would tease him and draw him in from a long day of exhausting work. You could massage his taut shoulders, fingers moving down over those rippling muscles.
   You settled for an expensive silk blue button up, no need for underwear with no one around. The button up was slightly open at the top, not that you'd be expecting any company-aside from John, that was. You flicked the light off and the room cascaded in darkness, aside from the moonlight that drew in through the blinds. John would enjoy seeing you like this. You jumped onto the bed; so big and comfy. The pillows seemed to swallow you with their fluff, douvet and all, tracing along your curves and exposed thighs. You adjusted so that your head was propped back and you were comfy, legs parted as you closed your eyes and sunk further into the dream you had created.
   If John was normal, he would be gentle and soft. He would run his fingers down you when he arrived upon your shared bedroom. He would whisper sweet nothings into your ear as his dirty hands came over every bit of flesh on your body. He would seek your pleasure first, attend to your needs and wants, because you would look, Oh, so sinful. It was almost like you could hear his voice in your mind. He wasn't yelling at you. He was whispering to you, begging for everything that your body could give him. He would praise you like the God he worshipped, settle on his prayer voice when he spoke to you and made the filthiest promises.
You want me to do this to you, don't you? Touch you like this? Spread you like this?
"Yes," You mewed, you wanted him so bad. "Please."
...
"Dear, sweet mother of-" John choked out, face nearly sinking straight through the computer screen and he leaned in as close as was possible. He was so close that the static was barely electrifying the thick hairs of his beard. "Fuck me." He was straining in his jeans watching you get so comfy in his home. He wished he could hear you, cursing himself for not having installed more advanced cameras, as Jacob had suggested months ago. Thank the lord, they were hidden from sight. Thank the lord, that he had the opportunity to see you so vulnerable.
   He bit his bottom lip nervously. What would Joseph say? Giving into sin like a moth to the flame. His eyes flitted over to the walkie talkie that sat on the desk. It was begging to be used, begging for John to do something that was reckless and sinful and dirty and everything he could be punished for if he tried. He groaned as he watched your hand finally reach its destination, your eyelids fluttering shut as you rubbing gently along your folds. The black and grey could only give away so much in this darkness. The night vision feature only worked to such an extent. Even so, John couldn't tear his eyes away. You were in HIS bed, in HIS clothes, after taking a bath with products that smelled like HIM. You were practically his at this point. All his.
...
    You were so close, thinking about John, about his fingers on you, about his cock inside of you, about his lips passing over every deeply intimate spot on your body. You could feel the edge coming for you, as his scent penetrated you, as you felt the silk of his shirt against your nipples. You cried out, so close.
"Oh, John, fuck." You were alone, filled with careless abandon, delving deeper into this madness that was him. You were a second away from the most explosive orgasm you had had in weeks.
*Deputy...* You paused, feeling a cold sweat fall over you at the coo. Your eyebrows furrowed as you sat up on your elbows, eyes landing on the discard walkie talkie that you had left behind on the dresser. You worried at your bottom lip in frustration. You were so fucking close. *I know you are there. Speak to me.* You should ignore him. But how could anyone ignore John when he sounded like that; desperate, disheveled, and hot. He sounded of so hot and sweet. You dropped back into the pillow with a grunt, thinking that you could turn the radio off and be through with these constant disturbances. *Please.* Desperate, disheveled, hot. So, hot.
   In one swoop, you jumped off the bed and attained the radio. You drew it up to your lips with a huff, fists clenched from the sheer rage that was building in you.
"What the fuck do you want, John? If this isn't about the negotiated release of Hudson, then I don't want anything to do with you." You waited for John's response, as it was suddenly very quiet on his end. Usually he spoke more, teased you more, threatened you more. Heck, just earlier he said he would get you back.
*This isn't about that.* His tone was of venom and annoyance now, which only sought to make you more irritated.
"Then, I don't see there being any reason to continue talking with you."
*Wait!* He sounded strained, as if she had broken him. *I can think of a few reasons.* Of course, he wants his house back. Poor fellow. You rushed and plopped back down onto the bed, a bright grin appearing on your lips.
"Oh John, Oh John," You taunted, feeling like you should run a victory lap for your achievement. Instead, you enveloped yourself in all of John's wealth and money. "Have I affected you in some kind of way?" Silence. "Little ole'me, in your home, all comfy in your bed, using your things. Sounds like I have gotten to you." The strangled groan that was relayed over the radio went straight between your legs. You had heard John groan out his irritation before and although this sounded slightly different, you hadn't thought anything of it. It wouldn't hurt to continue what you were doing before John's interruption. God knows you were still so close, thinking about him. He didn't need to know.
*You must have it all wrong, Deputy. The idea of you taking pleasure in my belongings brings a smile to my face.* The playful back and forth was a favorite of yours, you wouldn't lie. You never quite had the same interactions as you did with Jacob and Faith, both of whom would often ignore your jests completely. John reacted, he would give you his utter attention everytime you entered his region. You bathed in that sort of acknowledgement. You were now on the path of admitting that it kind of got you off; hearing his frustrations, hearing him coo, hearing him reciprocate every remark you gave him.
He liked it too. You knew he liked it.
"I'm such a bad sinner, aren't I?" You closed your eyes, free hand now coming down to the place you needed it most. A new fantasy had taken root, of John pleasuring himself as he spoke to you, getting off on your voice, off on his fantasies of you. On any other night, you couldn't imagine him breaking Joseph's rules to do such a thing. But tonight you wanted to imagine everything about John. He would be fisting his cock to the sound of you disobeying him at every turn, speaking into the radio, every word you spoke he clung to like a last breath. Tonight, you imagined him doing this: being sinful and breaking the rules in your honor. He would be relieving the tension that plagued you both for so long in his mind. He was no longer the sweet and gentle husband, coming home from work. He was the filthy, dirty, lusty lawyer that was your enemy; grasping for a chance to get you alone, so he could have you to himself.
*I should punish you...* You moaned at the pit of your throat, making sure he couldn't hear by removing your finger from the button. You were going to cum to the sound of John's voice and he didn't even know it. It was mildly empowering, feverish, and naughty, all at the same time. *I should tie you down and make you pay for all the wrongs you've committed. Make you confess all of your deepest, darkest secrets.*
"Oh, fuck." You heaved out, not having expected him to blindly play into this raunchy game of yours. The image of him, drowning in your conversations over the radio, as he milked his thick cock, flooded your mind. His button-up would be fully undone to reveal the mess of sweaty abs and tattoos across his torso. His hair would be falling out of its gelled, angelic perfection as strands drifted across his half-lidded eyes. The veins in his forearms would be bulging as he utilized his strength to work at the stress you caused him, in the form of a hard erection. You swore you heard him release some sort of sound from the other side of the radio. You hadn't quite been in the right state of mind to respond, but you were desperate to keep him talking.
"Tell me, John. You make all these promises and you don't keep them." You hadn't expected your words to come out so smoothly, what with your fingers now penetrating you just the way you liked. "If you wanted to punish me so bad, tie me down and make me confess, then you'd have me right this very second."
*I could, Deputy.* He shot out, all breathless and choppy. It only made your imagination run even wilder, that he might be doing what you were thinking he would doing. But he couldn't really be doing that, could he? *All I need to do is say one word and I can have you yanked from my bed in no time.* The thought of him sending in a team to come fetch you was about to do you in. The though of him wasting resources, time and energy, all so that he could alleviate his personal desires. You were about to cum so hard for him, so hard just by listening to his every word. You thought it was over, like his radio would go silent and that would be the end of it all. *But I much prefer it this way...* There was a hint of something deeply sinister in the low growl he spoke in. You wanted more of it, more of him. Your back arched up, and your finger slid over the button unbeknownst to you. He could hear the spill of moans and cries that were building up to the ultimate fall over the peak you had been climbing toward. And then he kept talking. *Seeing you all spread out for me, wearing my shirt, pleasing yourself to the thought of me fucking you into that mattress. Oh-ho-ho, Deputy~ You are so beautiful, when you are vulnerable.* He moaned each word with promise. You could hardly hear him groaning and sputtering out curses over the radio as you came on your fingers. You hadn't yet truly realized the sincerity of his words and the trouble that came with them. You were so lost to pleasure and the ecstasy that flowed through your body. The images of John's cum falling onto his sweaty stomach as his body rose and fell with each painful breath. The thought of him losing himself to you in the night, as you spoke to one another, shrouded in darkness, with only yourselves to know of the sins that occurred.
     You waited a few minutes, attempting to catch your breath and yourself, coming down from the high that your body had been craving for so long. It was only then, as you had once been blissfully ignorant of the gravity of your situation, that your body jolted up.
But I prefer it this way, seeing you all spread out for me, wearing my shirt, pleasing yourself to the thought of me fucking you into that mattress...
Oh shit. You fucked up. Your eyes nervously searched the room, even in the darkness, what was there to see. The radio still in hand, you sprinted into the closet and shoved yourself under a set of John's hanging clothes. What were you doing?! Oh shit! You need to run! You need to grab your clothes and your weapons and you need to get out of here. Quick! What did you do?! He saw everything.
Oh-ho-ho, Deputy. You are so beautiful, when you are vulnerable.
*Oh, Deputy~* He sung with a light chuckle lilting the edge of his name for you. You felt a stain in your chest, of embarrassment, of guilt, of a diminishing pride and self-esteem. *There's no reason to be so shy all of a sudden.* Your forehead hit the palm of your hand.
   You needed to react, get the fuck out of dodge, never come to the valley ever again. Nick and Mary and the Pastor had control over the situation, you could just fucking disappear. Why don't you jump into a void? Never return to Hope County even. Just leave forever. Did they make spaceships for extremely scarred and embarrassed common folk who wanted to get the hell off earth? Note to self, ask Hurk if he knows any aliens that could catch you a ride to the nearest infinity away from here. Fuck yourself. Fuck this. Fuck.
You hadn't even realized that John was still talking.
*Because I like you so much, I will even consider this an official confession. Wrath AND Lust.* You could hear the sickening grin of satisfaction. *Who would have thought that my little Deputy was so...* You were so unbelievably fucked. *Sinful?* Gunshots started to sound nearby, coming from outside the ranch, where resistance fighters had gathered to guard the newly acquired outpost. *I know I'm asking too much of you, my darling.* Your jaw dropped at the kindred and sweet way in which he spot the new pet name. *Just rest for now. You must be exhausted from the day's events.* You needed to get out of here, but you couldn't bring yourself to move. You were frozen with a whole course of unsettling emotions. *It's not easy to carry the entirety of a pathetic resistance effort on your shoulders.* And he sounded so loving, so tender, you had never in a thousand years thought you would ever hear John speak to you in such a way. *Don't worry, I will be home shortly.*
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dancingazaleas · 3 years
Text
𖨆. 08 / all for us
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summary: levi decides to walk you through his garden on a rainy day. you didn’t think that you’d end up having another antagonist though.
note: oh my god, i am deeply sorry that this took such a long time. i’ve been way too busy to actually sit down and get into the mindset of this book. i’m so sorry.
word count: +2.4k
taglist: @voltairelesecond @baelo80 @the-sun-baby @uniquepickle @ascybous @messyhairday-me @stupid-stinky @saturnalya @megumitodoroki @kouyume @quacksonlover81 @gipumaur @morgana-olson @yourodangoatama
warnings/notes: cursing, creepy gestures, fluff, slight confusion, unedited, let me know if i missed anything
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RAINDROPS pelted against the glass of the window gently, the sound echoing throughout the quiet room that is your bedroom.
today, levi had decided he would just spend his time with you in the comfort of your own room, holding you in his arms while he lazed the day away.
you, on the other hand, were having none of it. and by none of it, i mean cuddling. it wasn't that you didn't want to cuddle with levi, in fact, you enjoyed a lot! but, the rain outside your window was far more important in your eyes.
there was nothing exactly specific about the rain that entrapped your attention, just that it had been so long since you'd been in it. so long since you've been outside even.
but you'd never ask to go outside, the answer was already plastered onto an invisible wall inside of your head. so instead, you'd just look whenever you would get the chance.
and it didn't go unnoticed, it was actually quite obvious. you didn't care however, it's not as if erwin or levi were going to change their mind, so why worry at all?
but seeing the way your eyes sparkle at the sight of the rain gather in puddles outside, levi felt himself being convinced.
he huffs annoyedly, he just wanted to spend the day in your arms until erwin was home. he wishes it didn't rain. but even so, he begrudgingly gets to his feet and trudges to you. you look at him with a smile, hand reaching up to point at something that only you could probably see.
"we're gonna go outside for a bit, sick of watching your desperate face," he puts his hands in his pockets while staring at your widened eyes.
you stare at him for a minute, slightly creeping him out, before you even really react. you swing your arms around his neck and thank him profusely, a wide smile spread from ear to ear whenever you pull away from him.
"you're not going out in your nightgown though," he points to the silk white nightgown that ends at your bruised knees.
you follow behind him happily whenever he walks into your closet, shuffling through the different clothes he's bought you.
"you're not wearing light colors, it's too muddy outside, and if you were to get stains on you, they'd ruined beyond repair," he mutters, grabbing a black button up with bishop sleeves.
he hands it to you, gently taking your hand to lead you out of the closet and towards your dresser than held your clothes. he settles on a forest green skirt that ends just a few inches above your ankles, and then he grabs a bra for you.
"strip," you don't complain, only heat up and oblige.
his back is turned whenever he flings a black bra at you, obviously avoiding the sight of your body to help you maintain your decency. even if he did bathe you sometimes.
you hurriedly slip the bra on and levi finally decides to look at you again. he helps you button up your shirt along with the cuffs, nagging at you quietly as a husband would do for their wife. he lets you step inside the skirt on your own, which has you coming to the realization that there are built in pants that separate the air from your panties.
levi scoffs at your untucked shirt, tucking it into your skirt with fondness dripping from him. he sits you onto the stool of your vanity, which no longer has a mirror, and sighs. he picked up a brush, running it carefully through your hair to avoid any tangles that would tug at your head.
when he feels you're decent enough, he holds a cold hand out for you to take into his own. you accept it with glee, skipping behind him when he guides you through his estate and to the back door that leads to his garden.
"i need you all to clean up that table in the center. put those big umbrellas under it and dry it off with towels. then leave towels by the umbrella so i can wipe it down if it gets wet again. make us a light lunch, nothing too big but definitely not small. (name) and i are going to walk around the garden together until you all are finished or until we're ready to eat," levi's so quick with his words that it has you reeling with confusion, but his workers seem just fine with his speed and are already starting to complete the task given to them.
he holds a smaller umbrella in one hand and your hand in the other, opening it above the two of you as you step outside the door. your shoes click against the stone walkway just as thunder booms in the sky. you flinch and chuckle, pulling your hand away from levi to link arms with him.
he guides you along the garden, only explaining certain things if you had questions. the silence mixed with the light pitter patter of the rain soothes him, heavy eyes fluttering sleepily.
he's immediately awake whenever you squeal excitedly.
there was a marble statue of the goddess, themis. her scales were elegantly balanced between her fingers while her blindfold hung loosely around her eyes, other hand on the hilt of her sword that pointed to the ground.
"that was a reward for erwin at his office. i make sure to clean it myself every once and a while," you look to him, admiration mixed with confusion displayed on your face as you contemplated the meanings behind not only the goddess, but her statue as well.
you decide to keep quiet, slightly tugging levi to come closer to the statue so you can examine it more closely.
your eyes are shining whenever levi looks at you, and he feels like you're the sunshine in the midst of this pouring rain.
he looks down at his shoes silently, brushing away his cheesy and sappy thoughts. he feels stupid. not once had he felt this way towards anyone besides tall blonde men with blue eyes, but now he was feeling this way towards a woman. to say he was confused was only scratching at the surface.
he knew he'd liked you when he met you. you were quick witted, outgoing, and kind-hearted, not to mention gorgeous. but it's not like he wasn't sexually attracted to women at the time, he definitely was. he had never just felt romantically for women, not once in the entirety of his pitiful life.
but you're so docile and levi likes that. he not only likes it, he cherishes it.
for now, he'll entertain the thought that he might be bisexual, pansexual, whatever title makes him feel comfortable. if he can fall for you, then there's a chance he can fall for other girls.
levi hasn't even realized he's zoned out until you whine at him. you're lightly tugging on his hand to venture further into the garden, and levi's heart swells. you had an opportunity to leave, whether you even knew it or not, yet you chose to stay and wait for him. you had even snapped him out of it.
he lets out a huff before he stares to guide you around the garden again. he can't wait to take a nap after this.
"are you ready to eat yet," he grumbles, tugging on your hand to get you to stop walking.
"is there anything else left to see?"
"nothing that will look good in this weather," he scoffs.
"then, yes, i'm ready," and with that, he's leading you to the table his workers had been ordered to set up.
when you two arrive, you realize that the table was sat under a white hexagonal kiosko that had vines and flowers wrapping around the support beams. the table was covered from the rain, confusion clacking your brain at why levi asked for a big umbrella.
he seems pleased at seeing the table though.
"how long did it take for petra to realize," levi asks whenever he helps you sit down.
"not very long," the man said, and you recognize him from that day in bath with erwin.
you stiffen at the eye contact, looking down at the table and the empty plates that sit upon them. you feel his stare linger on you and your body, specifically your curves that were hidden underneath the button up shirt levi put on you. this kid gave you the creeps.
"i'll be back with the food," he says and walks behind your chair, fingers brushing against the back of your neck.
you swallow down your disgust, looking to levi to start a conversation.
"levi, wh... what's that boy's name?"
eyebrow raised, he responds, "his name's archie. why do you ask?"
"no reason. i think i've seen him around the house before," you shrug and idly play with the silverware on the table.
levi doesn't believe you, but the day has been too good for him to ruin now. you both talk sparingly while waiting for archie to come back, mostly talking about the new tv show you got levi to start watching and what he thinks about it.
the two of you turn your heads when you hear the sound of footsteps. you see erwin with archie following behind him with a tray of three plates, erwin holding an umbrella over the two of them. a soft smile sets on levi's face when he sees him.
"what are you doing home," you smile whenever he steps under the roof of the kiosko closes the umbrella.
"i was thinking of you two all day. it got so bad that i called a client by your guys' names," he chuckles, leaning down to give you a kiss on your head.
he does the same to levi while you giggle at his sentence. he sits down in an unoccupied chair, hand laying itself on your thigh.
"you can't just keep taking off, erwin," despite the slightly bitter sentence, levi's face is content.
archie places the plates in front of erwin and levi in silence, then to you. his arm brushes your own, and you can't help but get that weird feeling in your tummy again.
"thank you," you say to him quietly, flipping the fork between your fingers.
he just hums in response and walk away from the three of you again, sly smirk on his face. you ignore him, starting to eat the grilled chicken salad with slight confusion.
it had been over three months since you'd even had a fork in your hands. the feeling felt foreign and it felt as if all memory of how to eat with a fork washed away. the realization made your stomach ache, a dreadful look in your eyes spreading across your body. you swallowed down the huge ball that brews in your throat, hands trembling.
erwin and levi stare with pride swelling in their chests while tears swell in your eyes.
since when had you become so dependent? were you not just taking care of pieck and her cat when she was sick months ago?
you take a deep breath, adjusting the fork to make it comfortable in your hand. you try your best to eat with loose muscles, but the stiffness in your bones have practically turned you into wood.
erwin turns to you, sickeningly sweet smile on his face, taking the fork out of your hand and gathering food for you. he feeds you, just as he has done before, fingers gently touching your jaw as if he guided your chewing.
a warmth fills the ball in your chest, and deep down inside it makes you sick. you chew slowly and listen to levi and erwin's conversation, which consists of erwin's workday and how you've refused to cuddle with levi this morning.
————
you lay on the living room couch with your head in erwin's lap and feet in levi's. a crime documentary plays on the television, something erwin seemed excited about. he looked too cute to deny.
erwin's fingers run through the locks of your hair lovingly, only ever pulling them out if they start to tangle. levi's watching the documentary with a bored look on his face, thumb rubbing random patterns into your ankle. you're not exactly paying attention to the documentary, only zoning in whenever erwin points something out or whenever levi lets out a scoff.
you start to sit up and stretch, the urge of going to the bathroom taking over you.
you feel embarrassed whenever you ask, "can i go to the bathroom?"
"yeah, just go to the one in your quarters," levi's answer is immediate. he really must not like the documentary.
you pad over to the bathroom, listening to the pitter pattering of your bare feet against the dark hardwood floor. you walk into the opened door of your quarter, yawning obnoxiously and throwing your arms into the air. maybe you should've cuddled with levi this morning.
you go to the bathroom quickly, the thundering of the sky making you nervous. it would've been different if levi or erwin were with you.
you start to walk back to the living room, eyes focused on the flickering light that illuminates the large hallway. a particular loud clash of lightning and clap of thunder has you jumping into the air, house barely rumbling.
your body crashes into a chest, which you immediately grab onto, instinctively. you start to apologize to the person, obviously thinking that it was erwin judging by the height and broadness of the chest.
but when you look up, you're looking at the emerald green eyes that belong to archie. your words get caught in your throat and you feel yourself pale.
"i-i'm sorry," you stutter, immediately backing away only to come to the realization that you're already a few feet from the door to go back into the living room.
if you crashed into him, that means he was walking towards you. but the only thing ahead of the two of you would be—
would be your room.
dread drenches you, head to toe, sweat forming on your forehead as the room starts to feel a little bit fuzzy.
"wh-why were you in my room," you struggle to even get the first syllable out.
"levi wanted me to check for something in there," he shrugs nonchalantly, but you're not convinced.
you smile shakily and nod, rushing to the living room to get away from him. you try to think positive even after all the staring and subtle touches.
but it still leaves a pit in your stomach.
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escapewithbts · 3 years
Text
Love Yourself - Namjoon
———————————————————-
*beep beep beep beep*
The lock on your boyfriend’s studio made a clicking noise after you put in the passcode, signaling it was now unlocked. You opened the door to go inside and let it shut softly behind you.
As you entered you saw your boyfriend sitting in his swivel chair with his back to you, wearing headphones and staring up at some music on the computer screen in front of him. You walked over to him and gently rested your hand on the back of his head, running it through his soft light brown hair. He looked up at you and smiled his adorable dimpled smile, taking the headphones off and resting them around his neck.
“Hi baby,” he said, pulling you by the waist towards him so you were almost falling into his lap.
“Hi Namjoon-ah.” You returned the smile and bent down to give him a quick peck on the lips.
“Did you find a dress?” he asked.
He released you as you straightened up and went to take a seat on the leather sofa behind him.
You had just come from a dress fitting for the Golden Disk Award Show event Namjoon was taking you to this evening. It was the first time you had gone to an official fitting for something like this and it was a bit overwhelming. After all, you weren’t the only one there, but you certainly were the only one of your size. All the other women had the typical idol look for this part of the world, small and petite with tiny waists. You weren’t huge, but you certainly weren’t as slim as them, and therefore your dress options were more limited. You were comfortable in your own skin and liked your body, but had to admit being surrounded by these other women who had what was considered the “perfect body type” had made you feel a little insecure.
“I found a beautiful dress, Joonie,” and that was the truth, “I really loved how I looked in it. I can’t wait for you to see it.”
“And I can’t wait to see you in it. I’m sure you look gorgeous,” he replied, still focused on the computer screen, “So how was the fitting overall? Did you enjoy it?”
You looked at your hands.
“Umm, yeah, it was okay...”
“Just ok?” Namjoon questioned, “Why just ok? Were they mean to you? You know I’ll call the company right away if someone was rude to you.”
You chuckled at his overprotectiveness.
“No no, they were all really sweet, actually. I just, well, I felt a little out of place.”
Namjoon turned in his chair to look at you and cocked his head.
“Because you’re not an idol?”
“Yeah, partly.”
He waved his hand.
“Ah who cares, you have every right to be there as they do.”
You didn’t quite agree but you also didn’t see the point in arguing so you just shrugged.
“I guess.”
He turned back to his computer.
“Plus,” you continued, slightly embarrassed by what you were about to say, “it didn’t help that they were all super thin and therefore had way more choices than I did.”
Namjoon typed and clicked a few things on the screen in front of him before responding.
“Well you could always lose a few pounds.”
Whoa. What? Your heart dropped to your stomach, surprised he would say something like that.
Suddenly your mind went into overdrive. How dare he say something like that to you! Who was he to tell you to change? You loved your body type. But did he not anymore? Did he want you to lose weight? Does he not like you the way you are? Was this his way of saying he wants you to have a body like a K-pop idol? Was he trying to motivate you? Is he ashamed of you?
Overthinking was your specialty. You were furious, but also suddenly even more self conscious than you had been at the fitting.
Just as you were about to question the words that had come out of his mouth his phone rang.
“Oh sorry babe, I gotta get this, it’s management to go over the plans for tonight,” he turned towards you again and put the phone to his ear, “This is Kim Namjoon...”
Their conversation continued in Korean as you sat there with your confusing thoughts, panic rising inside of you. You felt angry but also really awkward and uncomfortable. You felt overdramatic, but you couldn’t help but wonder why Namjoon would say something like that.
You just wanted to get out of there.
You stood up from your place on the couch and started to the door. Namjoon moved the phone from his mouth and whispered to you,
“Are you leaving already?”
All you could do was nod.
“I’ll be home soon, okay?”
You nodded again and Namjoon turned back to his computer going over the plans with management in his ear.
The whole drive home you couldn’t shake what he had said from your head. You knew he probably didn’t mean it in a bad way so why was it bothering you so much? That little cloud of doubt in the back of your mind seemed to not want to disappear no matter how much you tried to reassure yourself.
Once you had arrived to your and Namjoon’s shared apartment, you slowly walked into the bedroom where the beautiful dress you had chosen hung on the closet door. Now looking at it you felt as though it was mocking you, saying ‘You had to choose me, you didn’t fit into anything else’. You sighed as tears started to well up in your eyes. This was not how you pictured this evening going. It was supposed to be magical, yet here you were about to cry from insecurity. You mentally cursed yourself for not being stronger, but in reality, Namjoon’s opinion of you mattered even more than your own.
It was then when you decided you just didn’t want to go anymore. Namjoon could go alone, he has many times before after all. You wanted to look and feel your best for him and that definitely was not happening today. You grabbed the dress from the door and opened the closet, slipping it in between other dresses you owned. Then you changed into sweatpants and a t shirt before crawling under the covers in bed, shielding yourself from the world.
Not much later you heard the front door open and close. Namjoon was home. Your heart sped up listening to his footsteps.
“Hey (y/n)-ah!” he called, walking towards the bedroom, “I’m ready to see my beautiful babygirl!”
Although your back was turned, you heard him stop at the bedroom door.
“(Y/n)? Are you okay?”
You suddenly felt his weight on the bed next to you as he peered over you to look at your face.
“What’s wrong, baby? Please tell me.”
He ran his hand up and down your side.
“I just- I don’t feel well...” you mumbled quietly, feeling tears well up again.
“Oh... I’m sorry... do you know what happened? You seemed fine at the studio.”
You shrugged, hoping he didn’t notice the couple tears fall down your cheeks.
“(Y/n)...” he shook your shoulder, “Please talk to me. Why are you crying? Did something happen between now and then?”
You just shook your head, burying your face in the pillow.
You felt Namjoon sit up and heard him sigh.
“Are you... still coming with me tonight?” He questioned softly.
“I don’t think so, Joonie... I-I’m sorry.”
There was a pause and you wondered if he had even heard you.
“Don’t be sorry, (y/n),” he finally responded, “I want you to feel well and comfortable, especially going to an event like this. Your physical and mental health is all that matters. I guess I just wish you could tell me what was wrong, but I respect you not wanting to talk about it. Okay, baby?”
You felt him get off the bed and watched him come around to the side you were facing. He looked down at you and gave you a small smile before rubbing his hand on your tear stained cheek.
“I love you no matter what, (y/n).”
Those words made your heart feel full, and instantly you felt like everything could be okay again.
He bent down to kiss your forehead the started walking into the adjoining bathroom.
“Joonie,” you stopped him.
He turned back toward you as you sat up in bed, crossing your legs together.
“Yes, my (y/n)?”
He came back over and sat down across from you, placing his large hand on your thigh and staring into your eyes.
You looked down at your hands.
“It was actually... something...” you shut your eyes tightly, “something you said.”
Upon opening your eyes you saw a panicked look on his face and he grabbed your hands in his.
“What? When? At the studio today??”
You nodded.
“Ah fuck, what did I say (y/n)? Please tell me.”
You sighed and twirled around the silver ring he always wore on his finger. You bit your lip and hesitated.
“You said I could lose a few pounds.”
Immediately Namjoon’s hands came up to cup your face. His eyes darted back and forth between yours.
“Shit, (y/n) baby no, no no no, I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant it like if it was something you wanted to do, for you I guess, I don’t know, it was stupid and-and I think I was just thinking of a logical answer to what you were feeling, but I was also distracted with the music... That’s really no excuse but I’m so sorry, baby, I would never ever tell you to lose weight. Never. You’re so beautiful and radiant just the way you are and I wouldn’t change a thing, okay? And you’re so confident, I know you don’t need to hear that. Your opinion of yourself is the only one that matters.”
You shook your head and replied softly,
“You opinion means a lot, too, though.”
Namjoon pulled you into his strong arms in a tight hug.
“No, baby, fuck what I think! I mean, I do think you’re absolutely perfect so it really doesn’t matter, but really (y/n), all you need is to love yourself. And I know you do. You’re one of the most self assured people I know, right?”
He released you gently but still held you close , rubbing his hands up and down your upper arms.
“Yeah. I guess just being around all the other female idols today threw me off a little bit.”
Namjoon tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“It’s okay, baby, it happens. Just promise me you’ll never forget how beautiful you are inside and out, even when you have bad days.”
He placed his hand on your chest at your heart and you put yours on top, squeezing it gently.
“I promise, Joon. Thank you.”
He smiled wide again and rubbed your face with the pad of his thumb.
“Anytime, my love. I am always here for you.”
Then he stood up and kissed the top of your head.
All of a sudden he glanced at his watch and gasped.
“Shit, I have to get ready. It’s an hour until the car will be here.”
He ran a hand through his hair and moved towards the bathroom again.
You stood up.
“Well I better start getting ready, too, then.”
Namjoon stopped in his tracks and turned to face you, a surprised smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“You’re coming after all?” he asked.
You nodded triumphantly.
“Yes. I can’t let a dress that makes me look so super hot go to waste!”
Namjoon smiled at you proudly.
“That’s my babygirl.”
------------------------------------
*Author’s note: Please please always remember that you are beautiful and wonderful just the way you are :) While I am truly lead to believe Namjoon would be this sweet and supportive in real life, never forget that the only opinion of yourself that truly matters is your own. After all, just like their album, Love Yourself: Answer <3
*
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zhongli-simp-blog · 3 years
Text
Outed
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“And Cut!” The director shouted, ending the scene between Jong-Suk and his co-star Park Shin-Hye, “that was excellent. You guys aHyefree to leave,” the director said, gesturing them to leave. As Jong-Suk and Shin-Hye walk to their cars, she stopped in front of Jong-Suk before he could enter his car, “you did great today. Why don’t we go out to celebrate?” She offered, and Jong-Suk being the nice guy he was, agreed to go with her, “yay!” She shouted, clapping her hands, “I’ll pick you up at 7,” saying before walking back to her car.
Jong-Suk arrives at your shared apartment and plops on top of you, “oof, well, welcome home to you too,” you say, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend. Looking up, he gives you a small kiss on the cheek, “how was the shoot?” You ask, “it was fine, Shin-Hye wants to take me out to dinner though to celebrate or whatever,” you and Shin-Hye weren’t the best of friends since you knew she wanted Jong-Suk to herself. “Be careful, I don’t trust her,” you admit getting up from your spot “don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll be careful. I don’t think she will try anything,” bringing you back into his arms. You finally gave in and accepted that he and Shin-Hye would be at dinner later tonight.
Later that night, you were lying in your shared bed as Jong-Suk was standing in the mirror checking his final outfit, “do you have to go? Why not stay, and we can order some fried chicken,” you say with a big grin trying to get him not to go. “I already said yes, and it would be rude of me if I canceled last minute,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed, “does it make you that uncomfortable that I am going with her?” He asks, placing a hand on your leg. Yes, it did bother you, but you didn’t want to be that boyfriend that prevents his lover from going out with friends, “no, it doesn’t bother me, go and have fun,” forcing a fake smile. “Don’t wait up for me, ok? Get some sleep, and I’ll be back and have you in my arms before you know it,” he smiles leaning in to kiss you, “can I get a kiss before I go?” He whispers. You sit up, pressing your lips against his, “be safe,” saying as you break away from the kiss.
You both hear a knock at the door, and you let out a groan. Jong-Suk chuckles, standing up to answer the door. “You ready?” Shin-Hye asks, walking into the apartment, “yeah, I just need to grab something from the room,” Jong-Suk says, walking back into the bedroom, “what did you forget?” You for-, “before you could finish, he gives you a passionate kiss,” I forgot that, he says with a smile before walking out the room. “Alright, let’s go,” Jong-Suk says, guiding Shin-Hye to the door, “Bye Y/N!” He shouts, shutting the door. “Who is Y/N?” She asks, walking down the steps to the parking garage, “He is just a friend.” Lying to keep his relationship a secret.
“So I found this nice restaurant downtown,” she starts explaining the plan as she starts the car, “it has a nice atmosphere, perfect if you are a couple.” Jong-Suk caught onto her last words.
‘maybe this was a bad idea,' he thinks to himself already regretting his decision.
“Maybe Y/N was right, and she is trying to hit on me?”
His thoughts were interrupted by Shin-Hye snapping her fingers in his direction, “what do you think?” Asking, “I’m sorry, think about what?” he asked, feeling bad about not listening. “About you possibly coming over to my house after?” Jong-Suk shook his head, “I only agreed to the celebration dinner, and that is it.”
Jong-Suk and Shin-Hye arrived to at the restaurant, and she was right about it being nice. They had glass chandeliers hanging with dimmed lighting shining through the crystals. The tables had silk cloth over the table with gold stitching. “How did you find this place?” Jong-Suk was asking as he looks at the restaurant in awe, “I just stumbled upon it,” obviously lying, but Jong-Suk didn’t want to call her out on it.
“Are you Ms. Park? Party of two?” The waiter asks as she nods, confirming her reservation. The waiter guided them to their table that was located near the back, away from lingering eyes.
They both took their seats, looking through the menu, “this place looks amazing, Shin-Hye, and the food looks even more amazing,” Jong-Suk compliments, “perfect place for us to celebrate. He adds. “And a perfect place for couples too,” she comments. Looking into Jong-Suk’s eyes, he coughs, trying to break away the awkwardness. “What are you thinking of having?” Changing the subject, “I don’t know yet, everything sounds good, what about you?” Shin-Hye replied, obviously not looking at the menu. As he was looking at the menu, he felt a hand starting to rub his. “What are you doing?” He asked, pulling his hand away, “don’t you think it’s romantic how it’s only us,” she says, reaching back for Jong-Suk’s hand.
“If you are going to keep acting like this, I am just going to leave,” he says sternly, “why? It’s not like you have a girlfriend, so why not date me?” Jong-Suk got up from his seat, ready to leave before he met with a pair of lips. quickly pulled away, “WHAT THE FUCK!” He spats before storming out of the restaurant, wiping his mouth, trying to rid of the feeling of someone else’s lips besides yours, he waved down a cab, wanting the night to end.
The cab ride was short but felt like an eternity. Exiting out the cab and paying the driver, he started making his way up the stairs to the apartment, “Y/N? Are you awake?” Whispering making sure not to wake you if you were already asleep. Still, no response, making his way to your shared bedroom, seeing your peaceful sleeping figure, climbing into the bed, he buried his face into your chest, feeling guilty about not listening to you about your concerns. Sleep finally took over him letting his body melt into yours.
~
The next morning Jong-Suk woke up before you with his back pressed against your chest. Reaching over, he opened his phone and opened Twitter and saw a tweet from Allkpop.
The co-star Park Shin-Hye of Lee Jong-Suk leaks that he is dating a non-celebrity male named Y/N.
“WHAT!?” Screaming makes you jolt awake, “What? What? What?” repeatedly saying, trying to get your boyfriend to explain. “That bitch, she tried outed us!” shouting. Your eyes widened at what he said, checking your Twitter and seeing both your name and his trending. Putting your phone down, you scooted closer to your boyfriend, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off, getting up from his spot “are you okay?” You asked. He turned around with nothing but rage in his eyes.
“AM I OKAY? IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO ASK? MY CAREER IS IN JEOPARDY, AND ALL YOU CAN ASK IS IF I AM OK? FUCK YOU Y/N, NO, I AM NOT OKAY!” You flinched at the sudden outburst, feeling hurt from his words.
“DON'T YOU DARE BLAME THIS ON ME, MAYBE IF YOU HAVE HAD LISTENED, THIS WOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED!"
Shouting back at him, he started pulling at his hair in frustration. He knew it wasn’t fair to take his anger out on you, and he was mad at himself for letting it happen. “she kissed me.” the defeat in his voice, “I’m so stupid. I should have listened to you and just stayed home. But no, my stupid ass didn’t listen.” Jong-Suk saying before storming out of the apartment.
Jong-Suk had his hands in his hoodie with his head hanging down.
What am I going to do? What if people hate me?
He thinks to himself, the only people that knew about you and him were your families. He pulled out his phone and dialed his manager, ringing a few times before the manager picked up.
“I was wondering when you were going to call me.”
“How bad is it?” Jong-Suk ask.
“Damage is minimal, we can easily cover it up, and it will be gone by tomorrow.”
Jong-Suk felt a pit in his stomach, wondering if being in the closet is what’s best.
Do I want to continue hiding? No, I want to hold Y/N in public, I want to share our love with everyone, I don’t wish always to call Y/N a ‘friend.’
“No, I don’t want to lie anymore. I want to come clean,” Jong-Suk says.
“But Mr. Lee, this could potentially ruin your career, and you have a new drama set to be released.”
“We will deal with that when we cross that bridge.”
“Your call Mr. Lee. I will release an official statement confirming the allegation.”
Jong-Suk let out a deep breath that he didn’t know he was holding, turning around, and started running back to the apartment with only you on his mind, barging through the door. He ran into the room where you were still sitting on the bed, tears falling from your eyes. Jong-Suk leaned down, placing his forehead against yours.
“I am so sorry for everything that I said. I should never have cursed at you, and I love you, Y/N. That is why I told my manager that I wanted to come clean with everything.”
You finally look up, meeting those brown eyes that you fell in love with, “are you sure that is what you want to do? I don’t want to be the reason your career ends.” Jong-Suk shook his head, sitting on the bed next to you, “Nonsense, I can always play in BL dramas that I always see you watching.” He jokes, giving you a nudge, you nuzzle your face into his neck. 
“What should our ship name be?” Your joke is making you both laugh, falling back on the bed, “let’s just lay here and not think of anything from the outside, just us,” Jong-Suk says, kissing you on the head. “You are too warm to move anyways.”
Your boyfriend’s phone rings, ruining the peaceful moment.
“I am sorry, Mr. Lee, but the agency won’t agree. You will have to end it with Y/N.”
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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years
Text
Stray Kids Reaction: Asking to Borrow S/o's Razor/ Wax
A/n: so this came from the revelation that stray kids probably freaking shave and wax their armpits. BC LIKE OMG THEYVE B EEN WEARING TANK TOPS RECENTLY and like idek man like i was just like its so smooth that cant be natural
Tagging: @distrikt9​ @mini-meanhoe​(if you want to be added to the tag list just comment or reblog! <3)
Warnings: probably some cursing
Bangchan:
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“AAAAAHH NO!!!” 
Hearing your boyfriend’s scream you raced to the bathroom door and knocked. This would not have been the first time Chan had fallen asleep in the shower and slipped. “Chan! You okay, love?” You asked, knuckled wrapping against the door. 
“Uhhhh....one sec, Y/n.” 
You waited patiently in the hall before Chan told you to come in. The shower had been turned off and Chan stood in the shorts he was wearing earlier and his hair hung in wet strands in front of his face. “You okay?” You asked eyeing him for injuries. Then your gaze fell upon the little pink razor that lay in two parts in Chan’s hand. Your boyfriend looked from you to the shaving utensil cutely.
“I think I broke it.” He mumbled.
Your heart fluttered seeing his adorable face looking down at the tiny pastel broken razor in his big hands. “Yeah, I think you did, babe.” You did your best not to laugh when he tossed the snapped razor onto the counter. You watched him reach under the sink and pull out a clear bag full of little pink razors. The kind you used to use in middle school. “Oh my gosh, Chan you aren’t using those are you?” 
He blushed seeing you laugh at the bag. “Yeah...why?” 
“Awww baby.” You kissed his cheek and took the bag and tossed it in the trash. Your boyfriend watched you open a drawer and pull out one of the extra razors you had lying around. “Here use this. I’ll go buy you an actual razor this weekend.” His dimples made an appearance as I handed him the metal razor. 
“Thank you, Y/n.” He said kissing your forehead.
Minho:
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“Y/n?” Your boyfriend called out into the apartment. “Y/n!” 
You sighed and got up from your comfy place on the couch. “What, Minho?” One of the cats brushed up against your leg as you walked into your shared bedroom. “I thought you were gonna take a shower?” Minho lay face down on the bed, like the drama queen he was. 
“I can find my mppphrhp.”
“You’re what?”
“My mmrmpr.”
“Babe, take your head out of the pillow.” Minho dejectedly rolled over and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t even move when Doori hopped onto the bed and snuggled into his chest. 
“My razor. I can’t find my razor. My stylist called and told me she has me in a cutoff tee tomorrow and I haven’t shaved since before the comeback.” Knowing Minho, he probably left it out on the last tour or something and one of the boys swiped it. They were always ‘borrowing’ things from each other and never giving it back.
“Hold on. I’ve got an idea.” You said turning on the light to the adjoining bathroom. “Are you too upset to take off your shirt?” The only answer you received was a grumble from Minho and the sound of fabric rustling. You came back into the room with a box of wax strips. 
Minho raised his head, hearing the box open and he shot up from the bed fear in his eyes. “Hey...back off.” He tried to laugh off the nervousness as I approached him with a wax strip in hand. “Y/n, you know I love you right?” He said holding a hand out so you kept your distance.
“Come on, Minho. It will only hurt like.....a lot.”
He sprinted out of the room only to trip over a cat, giving you a chance to tackle him and apply a strip to his underarm. “Y/N! NO- OWWWWWWWW YOU ASSHOLE!”
Changbin:
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Your nap was interrupted by the sound of your boyfriend loudly opening drawers in the bathroom. “Binnie! Shut the hell up please!” You said stuffing a pillow over your head. He mumbled an apology but continued to loudly open cabinets.
“Hey...baby?” Changbin asked crawling onto the bed. He lifted the pillow from your face and laughed at your scowl. “I need your help.” You shook your head and turned over. “Please....” He tried pulling the covers away from you, but the effort was in vain.
“Y/n I’ll order your favorite takeout if you help me?” He coaxed in a cute voice. Changbin laughed when your sleepy face peeked out from under the covers.
“What do you want, Binnie?”
He huffed and collapsed on top of you, a groan leaving you in response to his weight. “I forgot my razor at the dorms. Do you have one I could borrow?” You rose an eyebrow and wrapped an arm around his bare back. 
“By borrow do you mean gunk up with your armpit hair?” Changbin laughed and nodded. “No, sorry. I only use wax.” He sighed and dropped his head down into your neck. 
“Is it my only option?” 
To be honest, you probably had a cheap razor lying around somewhere, but....he had woken you up from your nap. He deserved it. “Yes, this is your only option.” He whined and rolled off the bed. You told him where you kept the wax and paper and he retrieved them from the bathroom.
“I’m a manly man. This should be nothing.” He said, giving himself a pep talk as you spread wax over a strip and placed it under his left arm. He raised it over his head and readied himself for the pain. “Ooo. That wasn’t so bad.”
“Changbin I haven’t pulled it yet.” He just blushed and stared straight ahead. A high pitched scream filled the apartment when you ripped away the paper.
Hyunjin:
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Hyunjin lounged on your shared bed, blonde hair laid out in weird directions as he scrolled through his phone. You walked out of the bathroom carrying the laundry hamper, most of it filled with Hyunjin’s workout clothes. “Oh, Chan called and asked me to remind you that you are filming your dance practice tomorrow.” You said adjusting your hold on the basket.
“Thanks, babe,” Hyunjin answered still on his phone. 
“Your clothes are rank, Jinnie.” You said beginning to sort through the clothes so you could begin laundry. He shot up from the bed eyes wide. You watched as he ran to your closet and searched through the clothes. “What’s wrong?” You asked sorting the dirty clothes.
“All I have left are tank tops.” 
“So? You look really hot in tank tops.” You said with a smile. Hyunjin collapsed against the closet doorframe. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong, drama llama?” He whined and groaned until he collapsed onto the floor in a puddle of depressed Hyunjin.
He pouted up at you. “I forgot to buy a new razor. I can’t film in a tank top tomorrow looking like Bigfoot!” You laughed, finding the tiniest bit of joy in his misfortune. Hyunjin was honestly overreacting. You were certain no one would care if his underarms weren’t smooth and shaved. 
However, knowing he was going to whine and complain and be an overall pain in the butt until the problem was solved, you stopped sorting the laundry. Hyunjin was too caught up in his whiny fit to see you go into the bathroom and pull out an extra razor from under the sink.
“There. Problem solved.” You said tossing it into his lap. 
“Thank you, Y/n.” He said, expression changing to a bright smile like a flip of a coin. He rushed over and gave you a sweet kiss before sprinting into the bathroom and turning on the shower.
Jisung:
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“HEY BABY!”
The loud sound of Jisung’s voice rung out through the apartment making you jump. Your ears picked up on the sound of drawers opening and closing. You pushed yourself off the couch and ventured into the bathroom. Your boyfriend stood with messy hair and half his shirt over his shoulder rummaging through the cabinets.
“What’s up handsome?” He sighed, a small whine escaping his lips when his head rolled back.
“I can’t find my razor. I think I lost it on tour.” You leaned against the doorway and watched Jisung continue to search. He gave up eventually and tugged his arm back into his shirt. “Can I borrow yours? I have a performance tomorrow.” He asked cutely taking your hands in his. 
“Jisung, I only have wax strips right now. I used yours if I needed a razor.” Everyone knew guys razors were better. He flinched hearing the word wax. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. He was debating whether to go through the pain of wax or go on stage in a tank top unshaven.
“Fine. But will you help me?” 
You nodded and he trudged his feet into your shared bedroom. “Shirt off babe.” You called before grabbing the strips from below your sink. Jisung lay on your bed, feet planted on the floor and hands covering his face. His tan skin exposed to the air. You leaned over, crawling on top of him and resting your thighs on either side of his waist. “Ready.” He nodded squinting his eyes closed.
He raised his arm and you placed the strip down and smoothed it out. Jisung’s other hand held on firmly to the bedspread. “1...2...” You yanked off the strip before you got to three.
“HOLY FUCK!” Your boyfriend screamed. You took his face in your hands and peppered it with kisses.
“You ready for the other side?”
“No. But....just do it.” He flinched, feeling you press another strip under his other arm.
Felix:
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Felix had been in the bathroom for three hours. You were starting to get a little worried. After another hour without hearing the shower or water running, you decided to check on him. Your knuckles tapped on the wooden door. “Felix, baby, you okay?” 
“Actually could you come in? I need some help.” His deep voice floated through the door. The scene that greeted you when you opened the door almost made you laugh out loud. Felix was standing shirtless in front of the mirror his arm raised above his head. Foamy soap was in his armpit and he held scissors in his hand, the blade having little traces of foam soap on it. “What?” He asked when you started laughing.
“Felix, what the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m trying to shave. We are filming at a water park tomorrow.” 
You could no longer hold in your laughs. Felix watched you fall to the floor clutching your side. “Oh my gosh....I can’t breathe.” You said between labored laughs. 
“Why are you laughing at me?” He asked completely serious. You smiled seeing your boyfriend look at you with utter confusion his arm still slightly raised. He watched you lean in and place a kiss to his lips. “What was that for?” He asked, though he thoroughly enjoyed the kiss. He smiled feeling your fingers play with the end of his hair.
“You are too cute.” He blushed and looked down. “If you needed to borrow a razor all you had to do was ask, baby.” He smiled and kissed you again.
“Can I use your razor, please, darling?” I reached into the nearest drawer, a hand still on Felix’s cheek, and pulled out the shaving utensil. “Thank you, Y/n.”
“What’s mine is yours, Lix.”
Seungmin:
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“Hey, Y/n?” Your boyfriend called. 
You set down the spoon you were stirring with and turned down the heat on the stove. “Coming, Min. One sec!” You wiped your hands on a towel before following your boyfriend’s call into your bathroom.
He was on his knees and searching for something under your sink. “Hey, can I borrow your razor?” He questioned as if he was simply asking the time. The question confused you. He wanted to borrow your razor? Like the one you shaved your legs with?
“My what?” 
“Your razor.” 
Still quite confused you walked into your bedroom and pulled out your still semi-full suitcase. You had gotten back from a trip a few days ago and Seungmin had spent the last few nights at your place. He claimed that it was because he needed a break from the boys, but you knew he missed you. His arms wrapped around your stomach from behind and he watched you search through your bag for the shaving utensil.
“Why do you need this again?” You asked, pulling out your toiletry bag.
“Cause I usually borrow Jisung’s before a performance but Changbin stole it before I could.” 
“I’m gonna ignore how unhygienic that is.” You said pulling out a clean razor from under your shampoo bottle. “Here you go.” His hand brushed yours when he took the commercial blade from your grip.
“Thanks cutie.” He surprised you by pressing an exaggerated kiss to your cheek before running back to the bathroom.
“KIM SEUNGMIN IF YOU CLOG MY RAZOR I WILL CASTRATE YOU.”
“I KNOW!”
Jeongin:
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“Y/n?” Your boyfriend called. Innie was somewhere in your apartment doing something. This was one of the few days the Jeongin had free of any schedules and you were ecstatic he chose to spend it with you at home. 
He turned when you opened the door to the bedroom. Jeongin sat on the edge of the bed in a loose tank top. “What’s up, handsome?” You asked jumping onto the bed and resting your chin on his shoulder. 
“Do you have a razor I could borrow?” Your brows furrowed in thought. To your recollection, you only had wax strips. They gave you a closer shave job than a razor. He sighed when you shook your head ‘no’.
You rubbed his shoulder and he gave you a half-assed smile. “I have wax strips. They will be a little painful, but they will get the job done.” Jeongin let out a nervous laugh before shrugging and letting me go get the strips from the bathroom. 
“How much is it gonna hurt?” He asked, eyes going soft. He laid down on the bed at your direction and raised his arms over his head. 
“Not as much getting your ears pierced.” You said placing the wax strip in his armpit and smoothing it out.
“I don’t have my ears pierced.”
“Yeah, when are you gonna do that? You would look really hot with piercings.” In the middle of your sentence, you ripped away the paper making your boyfriend yelp in pain. “Aww....baby.” You leaned down and kissed his cheek before moving to his lips. 
“You’re right that wasn’t too bad.”
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honeytae · 3 years
Text
I can’t believe you killed me on my birthday.
ok hi i love this concept :( and i just loved it even more for jin’s birthday fic. playing in the snow with seokjin is just a dream of mine, i guess. i know this is a bit late but happy belated birthday, jinnie!  tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy
genre: fluff
word count: 2.3k
Your original plan for this day was to spend it rightfully pampering your man; something that should’ve been simple enough with the genuine desire you had to do just that.
However, the universe was, evidently, not on your side from the moment you’d woken up to a strange yet familiar brightness straining your eyelids, goosebumps raising on your arms from the low temperature of your bedroom.
At first, you assumed that maybe you’d slept in later than you expected to. However, you quickly ruled that option out without shifting from your place in bed. 
Despite your grogginess, you knew you had set an alarm last night, and you were sure you plugged your phone in before going to sleep. 
Reaching over to your nightstand to feel around the surface for said device, your fingers fumbled over the object before bringing it closer to your face, eyes squinted at the screen.
And that was when the day took its first bad turn.
According to every news source in Korea, the biggest snowstorm of the year just happened to hit during the early hours of this morning, coating the city in white and slicking the roads in a dangerous sheet of ice; effectively ruining all plans you’d had to leave your home for Seokjin’s birthday celebrations today.
Looking back at the man spooning you from behind, you pouted at his soft and innocent expression. Exhales puffed out of his slightly ajar mouth, his chest rising with each deep inhale as the tip of his nose scrunched slightly in his sleep. 
Reluctantly unraveling his arms from your body, you sat up out of his grip, keeping your eyes on him as you paused for a moment to make sure he was still asleep before deciding it was safe to stand up when he remained unmoving.
Climbing out of bed with a huff, you slid your feet into your slippers, shuffling to the kitchen with a yawn and a rub of your eyes. Mind occupied with new ideas of how to try to make his day memorable, you momentarily pushed aside the disappointment you felt on behalf of Seokjin still cuddled into your empty mass of blankets. 
Just when you were beginning to accept that you would have to move your plans indoors, the lights began flickering above your head; your intentions of making the birthday boy breakfast in bed pushing you to scurry around the kitchen in an attempt to get something made before it was too late. 
However, in a matter of seconds, the power in your building had gone out completely, leaving you near tears in front of your blank oven, feeling quite hopeless as all your new ideas had just been finished before they even started.
So that is how you ended up pouting in your freezing cold apartment on Seokjin’s birthday, cuddled in bed with your boyfriend to combine your body heat to make up for what your furnace would be doing; you know, if your power hadn’t gone out.
To Jin, it didn’t make much of a difference at all. At least you two were together, safe and sound, albeit a little chilly from the lack of heat in your shared living space.
He found it a bit humorous that you were so worked up about a simple date on the calendar, already having consoled you this morning when he found you pouting in the kitchen by yourself.
As you reclined on the mattress together, his arm looped around your body and pinned your back to his chest, head tucked into your shoulder as he happily nuzzled into your skin. 
You sat up slightly in his hold, reaching for your phone to check the time and groaning at the timestamp. It was now approaching an hour more suitable for a proper lunch, and so far today, you had only shared a packet of cold pop tarts with Jin. 
To say you felt like a complete and utter failure would be an understatement.
“My battery is running low.” You huffed, tossing your phone to the end of the bed as your boyfriend’s chest rumbled against your back. He rubbed his hand up and down your side in reassurance, chuckling softly into your ear as he lifted his face to peek at your own.
“Well, if Jungkook hadn’t stolen my portable charger, I’d give it to you. You know, do you think he had something to do with this snowstorm? Sounds like something the little brat would do to mess with me, doesn’t it?” He knit his eyebrows together in thought, the playful smile he wore fading when he saw your less than happy facial expression.
“Love, it’s just like any other day. Please don’t feel bad.” He tried to soothe you, his words only getting you more upset at his own dismissal of his day of birth.
“It’s not just any other day though, babe. This is your birthday. I wanted to celebrate you properly.” You pouted, Seokjin poking at your jutted out bottom lip with his pointer finger in disapproval. 
“I know. And I appreciate that angel, I do. So what if the weather doesn’t comply? I can still see your effort.” He shrugged, eyes following your body as you began to get up from the bed. 
“Where are you going?” He asked, sitting up off the headboard in search of your warmth as stood from the mattress, walking toward the door of your bedroom before turning around to answer him.
“I’ll be right back.” You said simply, ignoring your boyfriend’s sigh as you retreated down the hall and into the living room, pausing in front of the windows and opening the curtains to glare at the still falling snow over the city.
“I hate you.” You grumbled as you looked out the window, wheels turning inside your head as you tried to think of how you could salvage this day. 
Eyes dropping down from the dreary gray sky to the heaps of snow building up on the ground of your patio, you took a deep breath, weighing your options before decidedly turning around, walking back down the hallway to make a brief stop at the coat closet before taking quick strides back to the bedroom.
“Okay, you’re right. I’m being a complete downer.” 
Seokjin’s head turned away from the windows on the opposite side of the room at your re-entrance, smiling slightly at your words with raised brows. 
Before he could make a comment on the rare occasion of you saying he was right, you were suddenly plopping yourself down onto his lap, straddling his hips and dropping his coat and gloves onto his chest. 
“Now, c’mon. We’re going outside.” You smiled, Jin pulling his brows together in confusion as his eyes sparkled back at you.
“We are?” He cracked a smile when you nodded in response, retreating from his lap so that he could stand up.
“We are. I’m not letting you have a boring birthday.” You said determinedly, Seokjin biting the inside of his lip in utter fondness for you as you began to pull on your jacket. 
Upon getting a directing nod from you, he rushed to slip his jacket on, his eagerness displayed in the action as you walked over to the closet, grabbing two hats and tossing one for your boyfriend to catch. 
He quickly slipped the fabric over his dark hair as you did the same, Seokjin’s hands reaching out to adjust your hat as you fiddled with the zipper of your jacket in preparation for the freezing weather outside.
“Cute.” He smiled softly as he settled the hat over your ears, you wrinkling your nose at his praise before shuffling around his body, placing your palms on his back to push him out of the bedroom.
Seokjin chuckled at your actions, purposely planting his feet down on the ground to stubbornly keep you from shoving his body forward. He laughed as you whined behind him, pushing him harder as he remained in his spot on the floor.
“Oh my god, Jin, c’mon.” You chuckled, Seokjin tutting his tongue in response before bending his knees to crouch in front of you. 
“Hop on.” He ordered, you scoffing with a roll of your eyes as you prepared to deny him, the man reading your mind as his hands came out to grab the weak backs of your knees. 
You had no choice but to fall onto his back with a surprised squeal, cursing at Seokjin for his persistence as he laughed.
“Come on, baby. It’s my birthday.” He audibly pouted, prompting another roll of your eyes before you caved, lifting your hips onto his back and wrapping your arms around his neck, a loud cheer coming from his mouth.
You giggled as he carried you down the hall and through the living room, Seokjin beaming at the reaction he had successfully obtained from you as he approached the door to the balcony.
“Believe me, this is much more efficient, my love.” He smiled, sliding the glass door open with his foot before leading you outside, tossing you off of his back and into the cushion of the feet-high snow on the ground.
“Ugh, Jin!” You scolded him, the man laughing as he leaned down over you, looking at you with a proud smirk as you glared up at him.
“I’m sorry, baby. Come here.” He gestured with a nod of his head, stretching a hand down to you so that you could lift yourself to stand on your feet again.
With a sly smile, you placed your hand in his, taking the opportunity to tug him down to the ground with you as he let a shocked gasp escape his mouth, gloved hand landing on the snow beside your head to catch himself before he crushed you.
“Love, I trusted you!” He whined, you giggling in response as he shuffled off of you, sitting on the cold buildup next to you as he turned his face up to the sky.
You smiled as you watched him stick his tongue out to catch the snowflakes, his mouth closing, head turning back toward you as he pressed his lips together in thought.
“Snow never tastes as good as I think it does.” He frowned, making your smile widen at his adorable actions before he squinted his eyes at you.
Looking from the pile of snow at his feet and back to you, a mischievous smirk lifted the corners of his lips as shuffled up onto his knees and leaned down to pack a ball of snow in his hand, you pointing your finger at him with a warning glare.
“Jin, don’t you dare-”
With a grin, he tossed the snowball at you, the solid sphere turning into a cloud of fluff upon making contact with your body.
You bit your bottom lip to hold back a smile, the man’s eyebrows raised in a challenge as he held his hands up near his head in surrender. 
“You’re really asking for it, now.” You sat up to gather snow in your palm, slinging your arm backward to aim it at your boyfriend, hitting him directly in the chest with a proud grin.
You watched as your boyfriend dramatically fell to the ground, clutching his hands over the spot you’d hit him on his chest as he groaned loudly.
Rolling your eyes at his little act, you stalked over to him, snow crunching underneath your footsteps as you walked, the prints of your boots marking your path behind you.
“Have I died and gone to heaven? Because surely you’re an angel.” He said with a proud grin across his face, staring up at you as you stood over him.
“You’re ridiculous.” You shook your head with a small laugh, the man’s squeaky laugh meeting your ears as you kneeled next to his body. 
Reaching an arm out to hook around your waist, he brought your body down onto his, his hands adjusting your hat to situate over the tips of your ears again as it had slid at some point during your time outside.
“I can’t believe you killed me on my birthday.” He mumbled, you snorting at his words and making a wide smile appear on his face as he laughed with you. 
“Merely self-defense, babe. Don’t take it personally.” You patted his chest reassuringly, Seokjin wrinkling his nose in disapproval of your words.
“Hm,” he hummed in thought, you raising your eyebrows in suspense with a small grin of your own, mirroring his expression as he cleared his throat dramatically, “I don’t know. I think I’m in need of some kisses.” He suggested in a nonchalant tone, mouth slanted in a lazy smile as your eyebrows raised higher in amusement.
“Oh? Is that right?” You asked, Seokjin eagerly nodding in response as he puckered his lips, shifting his pout from side to side making you giggle as you caved in to his antics. 
Leaning down to catch his pouted pink lips with yours, you smiled against him as he let a soft hum of his approval escape at the warmth radiating from your mouth. Your lips parted synchronously, your hands stationing on the sides of his head as you captured his bottom lip in a soft suckle between your own. 
Placing his hand on the back of your head, he pushed you down closer, the innocence of the kiss fading with each stroke of his tongue into your mouth. His hands trailed down your back to caress your sides, landing on your hips and rubbing slow circles into your flannel pajama pants with his thumbs. 
 With a playful nibble on his bottom lip, you broke apart from him, eyes dragging up from his swollen pink lips to his dark brown eyes with a questioning raise of your eyebrow.
“So,” you spoke in an unsteady exhale, “am I forgiven?” You asked with a slight smirk, Seokjin chuckling shyly before shrugging, the lack of answer making you scoff at the smug man underneath you. 
“Alright. I guess I’ll just have to continue, then.” You sighed with a shrug, a wide smile appearing on his face as he pulled you back down so that your face hovered over his own again as he picked his head up to better accommodate his desires.
“I guess so.” 
143 notes · View notes
snelbz · 4 years
Text
The Ranch {11}
An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.
Collaboration: @snelbz​ x @tacmc​
Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.
Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.
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Cassian awoke the next morning and snuck out of Nesta’s bed, careful not to wake her as he pulled on his jeans. He didn’t get far though, because as he took a step toward the door, his shirt tossed lazily over his shoulder, there was a sleepy, “Sneaking out without a goodbye?”
Cassian chuckled softly as he looked over his shoulder. “I wanted to let you sleep. Sun’s not up yet. I gotta get to workin’.”
The top sheet was the only cover left on the bed by the time they were through the night before. And it was currently draped low over Nesta’s back. She dropped her messy head back onto her pillow and mumbled what sounded like a goodbye.
He made his way back to the bed, pausing to brush her hair off her face, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”
“I’m not getting up until it’s a reasonable hour,” she murmured.
He chuckled softly and he said, “Sounds good. I lo-.” The words nearly tumbled from his mouth, without even meaning to. He covered it by stuttering. “I’ll, uh, go into town later and pick up the materials we ordered for the stables.”
Nesta only nodded, already half back to sleep,  not even noticing his near miss.
He watched her for another split second before hauling ass out of the little house and across the way into his own little cabin. Beau was instantly alert, staring at him with daggers in his little puppy eyes.
“Sorry, Beau,” he said, giving the pup a good rub. “I’ll come get you first next time.”
Beau quickly forgave him, jumping up to rest his paws on Cassian’s thighs.
“Let me change and let’s go check on the cattle, huh?” 
Beau hopped down and followed Cassian into the bedroom as he changed, slipped on his boots, and took Beau out into the pastures.
It was over five hours later when he noticed the front door of the main house was open, as were all the windows. It was a beautiful day and he wasn’t surprised to see that Nesta had decided to let some fresh air into the house. He made his way up to the house, going around back to rinse the mud and horse shit from his boots. The storms had made the back pasture a swampy mess and he and Beau had spent most of their morning moving half the herd into the pasture closest to the house.
He opened the back door and froze, taking in the delicious smell. Nesta was at the stove, a large pan atop one of the burners. He rested his hands on her hips and pressed a kiss to her neck. “What’s for lunch?”
She leaned into him and flipped the sandwich in the pan over. “Croque monsieur.”
“I don’t know what the hell you just said, but I love the way you said it.” He kissed down her neck until he reached her bare shoulder.
She laughed and said, “It’s basically a fancy French grilled cheese, with ham.” She turned to kiss him and wrinkled her nose. She giggled and said, “You stink.”
He raised his brows before making a show of sniffing himself. “I smell fantastic.”
“You smell awful,” she countered.
“It’s called musk,” Cassian said. “The scent of a man.”
“It’s called shit,” Nesta laughed. “The smell of cow. And horses. Mixed with sweat.”
Cassian grinned. “Well, I’d shower but that would be a waste.” His work day was far from over.
“I suppose I’ll let it slide,” she said, sighing. “At least while I feed you.”
“I’m honored,” Cassian said, laughing as he sat down at the table while Beau laid by Nesta’s feet. “You painting?”
“Yes, I was hoping to get the living room, the dining room, and the downstairs bathroom done, but I’ve been working all morning on the living room and I’ve only finished half. So.”
“Want some help?” He asked, watching as she deposited the sandwich on a plate, then pulled two more out of the oven where they’d been warming.
She shook her head as she put the other two on the plate and set it in front of him. “No, thank you. You seem to have your hands full out there as it is.” She nodded her head in the direction of the back of the property and opened the fridge. She poured sweet tea into a glass and set it down in front of him.
He looked at the food in front of him. “You made me three sandwiches and you made sweet tea?”
 “Is three too many?” She bit her lip as he took a drink of the tea.
He set his glass down. “God damn it, that’s good. Marry me.”
Nesta blinked, stared at him for a moment, then began to laugh, uncomfortably. “Okay, it’s good, but it’s not that good.”
“Agree to disagree,” Cassian said, mouth full of food.
She rolled her eyes. “Brute. Mind your manners.”
Cassian just grinned as he took another bite. “Seriously, thank you. It’s delicious.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, sitting across from him with a sandwich of her own. “Now stop talking with your mouth full.”
“Yes ma’am,” he muttered, still talking with his mouth full. 
She smiled and ate her own sandwich. Nesta filled Cassian in on the plans she had for the upstairs rooms. He listened quietly, eating his sandwiches and nodding in approval or made suggestions occasionally, but always swallowing his food before speaking.
After they were done eating, Cassian volunteered to do the dishes, while Nesta made her way back into the living room and continued painting. He heard her phone ring from the other room and heard a one-sided conversation between Nesta and one of her sisters.
The conversation began very normally, with Nesta answering with a simple, “Hey.”
He immediately heard an elevated voice from the other end of the phone. It sounded as if she was yelling and he quickly dried his hands off on the dish towel hanging from the cupboard before rushing into the living room.
He found Nesta leaning against the stairwell, with the phone against his ear, slowly rubbing her temples. He walked closer and could hear Feyre through the phone.
Nesta finally found a break in the conversation to say, “I was going to call you tonight, but-.”
Feyre began to speak again, and Nesta tried to speak a few times before he heard his name. Her eyes flicked up to him, just as his eyebrow rose. She hung up a moment later and Cassian asked, “Everything good?”
Nesta sighed and said, “I hope you didn’t have plans tonight, because we’re expected to be at Rita’s at seven.”
Cassian blinked. “And Feyre demanded that through yelling?”
“Apparently she had a conversation with Elain...who told her we slept together then went out on a date,” Nesta explained, looking pointedly at Cassian.
He cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah, uh, my bad.”
Nesta snorted. “Well, can you come tonight?”
“Depends,” he crooned. “Does this count as a second date?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, we’re all going out.”
“Then I’m busy,” he said.
She laughed, quietly. “Fine. It’s a date.”
“Then I’ll pick you up at six-forty-five.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Okay,” she smiled and turned to climb back up the ladder by the front door.
Cassian couldn’t resist the urge to smack her ass as he walked out.
Nesta was staring at her closet with a scowl on her face. Before moving back to the states, she’d sold most of her belongings. That included the bulk of her wardrobe. Now she was left with what would fit in two suitcases and a duffle bag, and after a month in town, she was starting to have to repeat clothes. She sighed and pulled out two potential outfits she hadn't worn.
One was a light pink dress with soft lace that framed her breasts. It was tight and short and honestly something Nesta never would have picked out for herself, had it not been given to her. The other was a black lace bodysuit, paired with jeans, but she wasn’t sure whether or not it was Velaris appropriate.
Who was she kidding, it was borderline obscene, but she looked damn good in it and she knew it.
She sent a short text to Cassian.
Don’t think, just answer. Black or pink.
The little dots appeared that showed he was typing back. Then they stopped. Then he sent Black.
Good answer, she thought, pulling it out of her closet and tossing it onto her bed. She curled her hair and did her makeup once she’d gotten out of the shower. It was weird to think she was more nervous for tonight than she was the night before, on their first date. This time, it wasn’t just the two of them. Now, they were going out with her sisters, with his friends. Tonight seemed more...official.
And it freaked her the fuck out.
She had just finished zipping her boot up when she heard a knock at her door. She checked her phone, noticing that six-forty-five had snuck up on her. She grabbed her clutch off the bed and hurried to the door, swinging it open to find Cassian, holding a dozen long stemmed roses.
Nesta stilled.
He held them out toward her, smiling upon seeing her surprised look. “For you.” Then he saw her and a curse fell from his lips. “You look...fuck. How much trouble will we be in if we just don’t show up to the bar?”
“A lot,” she chuckled, taking the flowers from him. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
She brought them inside and into the kitchen where she found a tall glass and filled it with water before setting the bouquet inside.
When she turned around, Cassian was right behind her, blatantly staring at her ass.
“May I help you?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, which only made her breasts pop out more.
He slowly met her gaze as he said, “Yes, please.”
With a roll of her eyes, she was taking his hand and dragging him out the front door.
Twenty minutes later, they were walking into a packed Rita’s. Nesta’s eyebrows raised. This was much different than the last time they’d been here. This was more reminiscent of the clubs she’d avoided in the big cities.
“College night,” Cassian said, voice raised so she could hear him. “VU students get a free shot with every premium beer ordered until eight-thirty.”
“That sounds horrible.” She cringed, but was thankful that was only a little over an hour away.
Cassian shrugged. “She never has to worry about her well alcohol sitting. It’s smart, actually. Come on.”
They made their way through the crowd, bumping into bodies as they moved to the music.
“Your sisters are over at the corner table,” he said, putting his lips to her ear. “Why don’t you go deal with them and I’ll get us a drink.”
She nodded and as she turned to leave, he tugged on her hand. When she looked back at him, he gently cupped her cheek and pressed him lips to hers. Then he pulled back, winked and a smacked her ass.
She rolled her eyes and made her way over to the table.
As she scooted into the booth, Feyre and Elain paused the animated conversation they were having, both having taken advantage of Feyre’s VU ID card from the year before.
Nesta’s phone vibrated and she pulled it from her clutch, holding a finger up before one of them exploded.
I’m going to enjoy taking that off tonight.
It vibrated again.
Very, very, very slowly.
And once more.
With my teeth.
She texted back, watching him across the room as his phone was in his hand. He was leaning on the bar, casually talking to Azriel, but she saw the change on his face when he read her response.
My turn to surprise you with no panties.
She watched as he blinked and took a long, slow breath. Then he was typing away and a second later she received, Tease.
She snorted and shoved her phone into her pocket before meeting the interrogating gazed of her sisters.
Nesta waited, but when neither of them spoke, she asked, “What?”
Elain and Feyre both started talking at once.
“What the fuck?” Feyre asked, “Cassian? And you didn’t tell me?”
Just as Elain said, “He called me the other day and I got way too much info from him that I should’ve got from you.”
They stopped, and Nesta stared, and then Feyre said, “Bitch.”
“Are you two done?” Nesta asked, leaning back in the booth.
Elain nodded as Feyre grinned. “Details. Hurry. I give them less than two minutes before they’re coming this way.”
Nesta pursed her lips and gave them the condensed events, starting with their conversation in the morning, spending more time than was necessary on Emerie and limited detail on the sex itself.
Feyre groaned and said, “On the couch? Really?”
Elain looked at her, sipping her beer. “Says the one who let Rhys fuck her on the kitchen table.”
Feyre almost spit out her drink.
Nesta couldn’t help but laugh as Cassian plopped onto the booth next to her, sliding a cocktail in front of her.
Elain and Feyre’s eyes slid his direction.
He paused, bottle of beer halfway to his mouth.
“Why didn’t anyone make this big of a deal when you and I had sex for the first time?” Rhysand mumbled, practically falling on top of Feyre.
“Because you made it publicly known, starting the second after it happened,” Azriel added, pulling a chair up to the end of the table. “And it got really annoying, really fast.”
Feyre laughed, patting Rhysand on the knee, and Nesta said, “Can we please change the subject?”
The six of them all fell into conversations, flowing from one to another naturally, laughing and drinking and just enjoying spending time with each other.
“Baby,” Feyre slurred, laying her head on Rhys’ shoulder. “I wan’ dance.”
“Oooh!” Elain was already trying to pull Azriel out of the booth.
“Y’all go ahead,” Rhys said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“Come on, Nesta,” Elain demanded, as Azriel stayed put.
Nesta hesitated, then gazed longing at her drink. “But I haven’t-“
She was pulled out of the booth, unable to stop her laughter from sputtering out of her mouth as she fell into the middle of the dance floor with her sisters.
It had been a long time since she allowed herself to let loose, to dance. When she was younger, it had never really been her thing, but as she grew older, especially being with her sisters, it was freeing. 
The live band playing on the little stage was playing so loudly that she could feel the music thrumming throughout her body. She looked back at Cassian every once in a while. 
He was watching her, intently, with a hungry gaze. She turned, holding onto Feyre’s hand. They laughed and Feyre spun her. Her long empty drink was raised in the air and when someone took it from her, wrapping their arms around her, she settled back into the warmth of his arms.
She moved to the music, the feeling of his arms around her intoxicating, fueling the warmth of the alcohol in her veins.
Azriel was pulling Elain towards the booth, while Rhysand dramatically dipped Feyre. Nesta couldn’t help but smile as she felt the calloused hands grip her hips and grind her into himself.
Her hair was dragged back from her neck and lips nibbled on her pulse point, smooth skin dragging along her own.
She ran her hand up the back of Cassian’s head, grabbing for his long hair that she’d known he left down for her.
Only to feel close cropped hair slide across her fingers.
She stilled, only for a second, before spinning around to meet Tomas’s humored gaze.
His hands reached for her waist, once more, as Nesta asked, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Come on,” he said, above the music as she swatted his hands away. “Don’t act like you didn’t feel it when we ran into each other the other day, Nes. Dance with me. It’s just a dance.”
“I don’t want to,” she hissed, and went to move around him, but he stepped into her path.
“One dance,” he crooned, his hand grabbing hers.
But a hand had reached up to grab Tomas on the shoulder from behind him. Nesta’s eyes connected with Cassian's hardened hazel eyes, which were watching the back of Tomas’ head.
“I’m pretty sure the lady said no.” The words were almost impossible to distinguish from the music, the growl nearly as deep as the bass
“Fuck off, Nazari.” He shrugged, pulling Nesta’s body into his. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
She pushed him off. “No, thank you,” she said, trying to distance herself from him, stumbling into a table.
Cassian caught her, steadying her. He got in Tomas’ face. “Don’t fucking touch her. You lost your chance.””
A light sparked in Tomas’s eyes: recognition. “Ah, she's warming your bed now, is she?”
Cassian's jaw locked but Nesta’s eyes had narrowed. “Fuck off, Tom.”
But Tomas was looking at Cassian. “Out of all the people in the world, she found the trashiest bastard in town.”
“Leave,” Cassian ordered. His voice was low, quiet, but his shoulders were tensed.
The little smile remained on Tomas’s lips as he looked to Nesta. “When you get bored of him, my number is still the same.”
He walked away, but even as Tomas reached the door, Cassian didn’t move.
Nesta turned. “You know Tomas.”
Cassian didn’t say anything, didn’t look away from his retreating form. He only nodded.
Nesta felt her walls rebuilding. She felt the cold chill shoot up her spine. “How.”
Cassian’s eye trailed him as he left, then he glanced down at her, the disdain clear. “He’s the reason my roping career ended.” The music continued playing around them and he said, “I hate him. I don’t want you around him.”
Nesta blinked once. She could barely think. Could barely put two words together, much less tell him that she had no interest in speaking to or seeing Tomas Mandray ever again.
Instead, the single word that left her mouth was, “What?”
“I don’t want you around him,” Cassian repeated.
Nesta nearly wanted to laugh, but there was no hint of laughter in her voice as she asked, “And who the fuck do you think you are to tell me what to do?”
Cassian stilled, but his lips were tight.
“Fuck you,” she spat, the anger inside of her growing until her hands began shaking at her sides. “I’m not your girlfriend. You can’t tell me what to do.”
She pushed through the crowd, reaching their table and retrieving her bag and phone, unwisely tossing back the rest of her drink. She turned and found him nearly to the table as well, but was darting down the back hall, towards that glowing red sign that would mean her escape from bodies that made her feel too hot, too close, too tight.
She burst out the door and turned, leaning her back against the brick wall across from the door, eyes closed as she swallowed as much air as she could. The alley was empty mercifully as she caught her breath, as she reminded herself that no one was forcing her to stay inside.
“What the fuck are we then.”
She hadn’t even heard him come out, wondered if he’d come out when she did. If he did, he’d let her have a moment until she didn’t look like she was going to fall apart.
“Leave me alone, Cassian,” she said, face in her hands.
“No, I want you to give me an answer,” he hissed.
She didn’t bother looking at him. “Take me home,” she whispered, exhausted.
“Well which is it?” He asked, his voice rising. “Leave you alone or take you home?”
Tears sprung in the corners of her eyes, and she hated herself for it. She didn’t take her hands away from her face.
“We’re not going anywhere until you tell me-.”
“Just stop!” She yelled, her hands falling away as she turned to face him.
He froze, jaw locking.
The door opened and Elain and Azriel came out into the alley. She frantically caught Nesta’s hand and asked, “Are you okay?”
She held Cassian’s stare and blinked, looking at her sister and nodding. The silent tears that began to stream down her face rooted Cassian to where he was standing.
“Come on,” Elain said, voice soft. “Let’s go.” She began to pull Nesta away and Cassian reached out, brushing his fingers against hers.
She looked at him, and that softness he’d woken up to this morning, the light he’d gotten used to…
It was gone. And in its place was the raging storm she’d been when he’d met her.
He didn’t understand.
Wanted to, but didn’t. 
Nesta walked away with Elain and Azriel, the latter looking over his shoulder apologetically.
He stayed put for a moment, mind whirling, as he watched her walk out of the alley and disappear around the corner before tumbling back to his own truck.
He felt confused.
Pissed. Frustrated. Upset. Hurt. But mostly confused.
“Cass!”
He turned and caught Rhysand’s eyes from the door. He and Feyre hurried to his truck. She demanded, “What the fuck happened?” Cassian didn't even have time to reply before she forged on. “I looked over and found the three of you in each other’s faces. And then that fucker left and she stormed away from you?”
“He was being an ass. Then I told her I didn’t want her around Tomas and she lost her shit,” Cassian mumbled. “I don’t know. I’m going home.”
Feyre reached out and grabbed his arm as he was about to pull himself into his truck. He stopped, and when he met her eyes, he was surprised to find her eyes soft.
“Don’t be too hard on her,” she whispered, even though from the look on Rhysand’s face, he knew enough about why. “She and Tomas… He… Just don’t be too hard on her.”
He didn’t bother to mention that he wasn’t sure if she’d even speak to him.
When he got home, he found her on his porch. She still wore that damn skin tight lace, showing every delicious curve he wanted to run his tongue along.
Every curve he had run his tongue along.
He got out of the truck and made his way up the stairs, his boots thudding with each step.
She sat on the top step, a lit cigarette between her fingers.
He leaned on the railing, crossing his arms, and said, “Didn’t know you smoked.”
She put it to her lips and took a drag, the end glowing in the darkness. She blew out a stream of smoke and shrugged. “I don’t. Just a nervous habit.”
He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. He hesitated, but closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I think we need to talk.”
She nodded, taking another pull and stood, dropping the cigarette into a beer can that had been left on the small patio table he had. It went out with a sizzle.
“If I’ve…” he began, then stopped. He blew out a long breath before starting over. “If I’ve jumped to conclusions about what we are, I’m sorry.”
Nesta didn’t say anything, didn’t move for a moment. She stared at a spot on the deck for a moment before saying, “Nothing about tonight was about you.”
Cassian wanted to press her, but didn’t. He didn’t need to, though, because she continued.
“I didn’t realize you knew Tomas, it threw me off,” she said. “We used to date. For a long time. He was an ass. Made me feel….small. And then he cheated on me. That was almost ten years ago, and I haven’t been in a real, healthy relationship with anyone since. I don’t even know if I’ve ever had a healthy time relationship.”
Cassian didn’t say anything, contemplating just how much he should say. But this woman… this gods damned breath of fresh air that had blown into town, into his life and actually made him enjoy what he did again…
The woman that he’d fallen in love with… she deserved to know everything.
“I know.” She looked up from the deck and waited for him to continue. He sighed and closed his eyes, taking a moment before he went on. “You may not have remembered me from school, but Cauldron, I remembered you. I had the biggest crush on you, but when I found out you were dating Tomas Mandray, the only other header in our state that gave me a run for my money? The one thorn in my fucking side who only won because daddy bought him the fastest horse he could find?” He shook his head. “I knew that we never had a chance, regardless of the fact that you didn’t even know I existed. I could have introduced myself, I could have put myself on your radar, but what good would that have done? You were still with him.” Nesta stared at him unable to say anything. “And then I saw you in Guthrie.” He looked at her, looked into her eyes, letting her see the sincerity in them. “And I saw him make you cry. I knew it was none of my business, so I didn’t say anything. Rhys told me if I did anything to fuck up our chances at a title, he’d personally cut my balls off. We roped the first night, took the average. Roped the second, came up short by point zero four seconds. Still won the average so far, but Tomas was right behind me. Then on the third, I caught him running his mouth and bragging about how he was able to keep that side piece from you for months.”
Nesta felt like she was going to be sick. She’d never been sure, but she’d always assumed he’d been cheating on her for longer than she knew.
“So I beat the shit out of him, had my membership in the USTRC revoked and was told that I’d never rope professionally again. And I haven’t. I was turned away from every rodeo I tried to enter. So I gave up.”
Nesta stared at him, completely speechless. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind but they all sounded ridiculous. All she managed was a breathless, “You…” but nothing followed.
He looked up at her then, at her wide, misty eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, then she said, “You really did beat the shit out of him.”
Nesta remembered hearing about it the next day, feeling grateful at whoever gave Tomas what he deserved.
But never in a million years would she have thought it had been Cassian.
“You didn’t deserve to be disrespected like that, whether you knew or not.” His voice was quiet, still, cold.
She breathed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He let his hands drop to his side and a frustrated chuckle left him. “What was I supposed to say? Oh, by the way, I assaulted your ex and had my dream ripped from me when it was within spitting distance?”
She didn’t say anything, knowing he was right. How would he have even brought it up, especially seeing her reaction to Tomas in the hardware store.
Her lips tightened but she said nothing. She should apologize, should try to tell him something comforting or reassuring, although that had never been a strength of hers.
Instead, she met him at the top of the stairs and laid her fingers against his cheek, forcing him to meet her gaze. And when he did, with eyes still half lit with anger, but dwelling with softness for her, she kissed him, softly, slowly.
He melted into the touch of her lips against his, his arms wrapping around her slender waist. 
She pulled back, and he was shaking his head. “I’m sorry I got pissed tonight,” he breathed, brows furrowed. “I acted like an ass.”
“You did,” she agreed, and the chuckle that left him slid across her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You were just trying to protect me, and I know that. You’ve apparently been doing that way longer than I’ve known.” She smiled softly and his lips turned up slightly in response, that anger diminishing with every second. “But… I can fight my own battles, Cassian. I’m a big girl and I promise I can handle myself on my own. Okay?”
He closed his eyes, sighed and nodded. “Okay. But only if you agree to let me step in if need be. I promise,” he began, his eyes sincere. “I won’t ever overstep my boundaries if I can help it, but if I feel like something is wrong, I’ll have to handle it.”
“You’ll have to?” She whispered, amusement lacing her tone.
He nodded, slowly, eyes bright as he cupped her face. “I care about you, Nesta.”
Words escaped her as she stared up at him, as his thumbs brushed across her cheeks. 
She knew he wasn’t lying, knew he wasn’t saying it just to say it. She could see the truth of his words in his eyes, could feel it in his touch.
The thought terrified her.
But it ignited her, too, set her soul on fire, woke her up.
“Kiss me,” she breathed, pleaded, needed to taste him to know this moment, these confessions, were real.
So he did. His hand curled into her hair, the other going to her lower back, holding her against him, and his lips devoured hers in a searing kiss. It took her breath away and made her feel alive. There was so much he couldn’t say that he poured into that kiss and Nesta could feel it, could feel herself falling.
This man, this impossibly frustrating, amazing, complicated man, he had thrown her world off its axis. Had made her second guess a lot of things about her life she’d never allowed herself to.
And he cared for her, for some ridiculous reason that she was trying so hard to understand but didn’t. They were polar opposites, two people worlds apart. She didn’t care, though, didn’t care that they didn’t make sense. 
Cassian lifted her up and her legs wrapped around his waist in silent acceptance. He carried her inside of the little cabin, where Beau looked up from his spot on the couch before snuggling back into the cushions. 
Neither of them said a word, their lips refusing to be parted, as they entered his bedroom.
Her back gently hit the mattress as he laid her down, his body covering hers. Her hands were in his hair, framing his face, pulling at his shirt, grabbing his ass through his jeans. He was all she could feel, all she could, taste, smell, see, hear. He completely overwhelmed her senses, but gods, she loved the disorienting haze his kisses dragged her into.
She bit his bottom lip, just like she had on the football field, and he growled quietly. Pulling back, his hazel eyes found hers and they were intense and she found herself wanting to push him, to see how far she could go before he lost control.
So she leaned up, brushing her lips along his jawline. His stubble was rough, scratching against her skin in an intoxicating way, and she trailed her kisses down his throat until she found that spot where his neck met his shoulder.
The hand bracing his weight that was next to her head balled into a fist, the sheets and blankets bunching up in it. The hand on her hip tightened.
Her gentle fingers slid beneath the hem of his shirt, feeling the warm skin beneath. Those teasing kisses along the base of his throat continued, sucking softly, brushing her tongue against his skin.
His eyes closed, his lips parted.
Nesta wanted to capture that moment, paint him in that light for all eternity, hardly holding on, dwelling in her touch as she worshipped him, patiently.
Her hands slid up his back, just beneath his shoulder blades as her lips trailed down between the collar of his shirt.
A shuddering breath left him and he leaned back, pulling the shirt over his head and went to lie back atop of Nesta. Instead, she pressed a palm to his chest and took a moment to look at him.
He was a fucking Adonis in human form. Her hand trailed down between his pecs, across his abdomen, over the dusting of hair beneath his belly button, and finger followed the deep groove of muscle at his hip down into the jeans that were becoming impossibly tighter with every touch.
She looked up at him through her lashes, and dragged that finger along the waistband of his jeans, finding the button and playing with it before she popped it loose.
He watched, lips pressed together. Nesta swore he held his breath as she pulled down his zipper and pushed his jeans down past his hips. Cassian’s body finally shook with a deep breath as he pushed himself off the bed and onto the floor. Nesta rolled onto her side and silently watched as he kicked off his boots and pushed his jeans onto the wooden floorboards, but when he took a step back toward the bed she shook her head, eyes bright as they admired him.
She scooted herself to the side of the mattress before pulling herself up into sitting position, her long legs draped over the sides. She reached down to unzip one of her boots and toss it to the side, then the other, and she stood in front of him before trailing her fingers down his body, once more. 
He was beautiful.
“You’re going to be the death of me.” His voice was rough. His fingers found her chin and when he grazed his thumb across her lips, she pressed the softest of kisses to it. When she heard his breath hitch, she pulled it into her mouth and sucked lightly, letting her tongue swirl around it. She looked up at Cassian, into his eyes, and she swore she was going to combust from the look he was giving her.
He removed his thumb, and though there was a ferocity in his eyes, he gently took her face in both of his hands and kissed her softly.
He pulled back and whispered, “Nesta, I-. Fuck…” His words trailed off as he kissed her again, nipping at her bottom lip. He pulled away abruptly, leaving Nesta breathless. He spoke in a rush, almost as if he knew that if he didn’t speak now, he wouldn’t speak at all. “Fuck, Nesta, I think I love you. And I know that’s insane, but you’re all that I think about. You’re the only thing I want, and I just-.” He dragged a hand down his face. “I had to tell you. I’m falling for you, harder and harder every day.”
Feeling breathless, her forehead fell against his chest. She closed her eyes, terrified of the next words to come out of her mouth. “I feel the same.” And she looked up at him, then, through her long lashes. “I love you, too.”
Four words, barely audible, even in the silence of the cabin. But the look in his eyes at those words was something so vulnerable and raw, with a hint of something almost like surprise, that Nesta could hardly breathe. 
She wanted to tell him not to hurt her, not to break her heart, not to make her regret those words. But as he took that little step closer to her, closing what was left of the distance between them, she knew he wouldn’t.
He didn’t need to tell her, because he would show her.
A hand reached around and found the small zipper at the back of her neck, and he slowly pulled it down. His finger skimmed along her skin as he dragged it along her spine and a chill ran through Nesta. He undid the button of her jeans and Nesta held her breath, unsure of why she felt so nervous. Cassian began to work her jeans down, but when they wouldn’t budge past her hips, he cleared his throat. “I imagined this being much more smooth, but, uhm, I can’t get your pants off.”
Nesta laughed, quietly, as she shimmied herself out of her tight jeans. He watched as she pulled herself out of her lace bodysuit, until she was bare before him. 
“Told you, no panties,” she whispered, and his answering grin had her toes curling.
“And I told you I wanted to take that off with my teeth…”
She smoothly replied, “Next time.” Cassian smirked.
With no warning, he picked her up and tossed her onto his bed, following suit and crawling up her body, pausing to taunt, tease and taste. He stopped at her breasts, unable to resist any longer as he took a peaked nipple between his lips, his fingers finding the other and rolling into slowly.
Nesta began to writhe, gripping his hair and tugging on the loose strands. The whimpers and moans falling from her lips were too much and he fisted his cock, stroking in time with the roll of his fingers. 
Her legs were wrapping up around his waist, and she pulled his body into hers. She had to be closer to him, the distance seemed too great, too far, after the words they’d spoken.
“Cassian.” She whispered his name, breathed it into the night. He looked up at her, his lips falling away from her nipple, and saw the desperate beckoning look in her eyes. He climbed up her body, covering hers with his. He moved the stray hairs from her face before taking her wrists gently into his hands and moving her arms above her head, his fingers slowly intertwining into hers.
He pressed his forehead against hers, his hardened cock pressed up between her folds. 
Her eyes remained locked with his as her fingers tightened in his own. “Make love to me, Cass,” she breathed.
His lips parted and a slow, shaky breath left his mouth, warming her own.
He slowly, torturously slowly, pushed into her, pausing when he was fully seated inside. The overwhelming fullness had Nesta breathing heavily, her chest heaving, and Cassian leaned down, pressing soft kisses to her lips. “Are you okay?” The question was no louder than a whisper, but Nesta nodded, eyes still closed.
She’d been with a few men since Tomas all those years ago. None more than a few times, as Nesta’s schedule was too busy for more than anything but a passing fling, but she’d never been dissatisfied with the sex she’d had, never been disappointed by the size of her partner.
She was ruined now, she realized as Cassian slowly pulled out and snapped his hips back into hers, for any other cock, because none could compare to the one currently inside of her. Or the man to whom it belonged.
He continued the slow, agonizing pace until Nesta began to squirm. He leaned down and kissed her, palming her breast, and asked, “What is it, sweetheart?” He never halted his thrusts, kept driving Nesta wild with each flex of his hips.
She was whimpering and groaning and writhing, and breathed, “Touch me, please.”
He picked up his pace, just barely, as his hand fell from her breast and slowly dragged down her side. Cassian pushed himself up on his knees, then, and pulled her ass onto his lap as that steady pace inside of her continued. His thumb found her clit and he circled it, slowly, as he thrust his cock in and out, his other hand gripping her ass as a guide.
Nesta threw her head back, her body flooding with that familiar warmth, and she didn’t try to quiet the moan that he pulled from her. One hand was fisted in the sheets by her head and the other replaced his, tweaking her nipple.
“God damn, baby,” he breathed, gazing down at her. Fuck, she was so beautiful, so perfect. Her full hips that he couldn’t get enough of grabbing onto. Those parted lips that drove him wild. But gods, those breasts.
Nesta reached out and ran a hand down his chest. He caught her fingers and sucked one into his mouth as she has before, biting down lightly. Her other hand had stilled on her stomach and she watched him with lust addled eyes. He gripped the other in his hand and pinned them above her head again, lifting his hips and roughly thrusting into her again and again.
She cried out, unable to form a sentence or even his name.
“You feel so good,” he breathed, fighting his growing orgasm. He wanted to bend her over his dresser, wanted to watch himself fuck her in the mirror, but she was so tight and he was so close.
A string of curses flooded his mind as his head fell back, his eyes closed, but only for a second. Nesta’s cries grew louder and he watched as her body tensed, her pussy clenching around him, squeezing his cock. He leaned back to get the perfect view as he grabbed her ass and pulled her into him as his pace quickened.
“I’m...close,” he grunted, voice straining. She was still riding out her orgasm, unable to speak, but acknowledging him with a nod. He kept pounding into her, watching the way her breasts bounced with her every thrust until his head fell back again and he grunted out, “I’m about to come.”
He expected her to scoot back so he could come on her stomach or her tits. He wouldn’t have even been surprised if she took him into her mouth to finish him off.
He didn’t expect her to tighten her legs around him and hold him in place. He didn’t expect the frantic nod she gave him when their eyes connected, question written clear across his face. He didn’t expect the quietly whimpered, “Please,” as he thrust into her one final time before his release barreled through him, vision going white as he came harder than he ever had before.
Cassian groaned as he came, filling her up, quick, hard thrusts continuing long after her pussy had milked him for his last drop.
He fell down against her, his cock still inside of her as his sweaty, hard body covered hers. She wrapped his arms around his neck as they tried to catch their breaths. Neither of them said a word in the silence as they clung to one another..
Cassian was about to get up when Nesta breathed, “No, just…stay here, please.”
He nodded, pressing his lips to her neck. He rolled them, so she was lying on top of him, rather than the other way around, and he dragged a lazy finger up and down her back.
“Shit,” he said, letting loose a deep breath. “That was the-.”
“Best orgasm you’ve ever had?” She finished.
He nodded, head sinking deeper into his pillow as he wrapped his arms around her tighter. “You took the words out of my mouth.”
One of his hands dipped lower, cupping her ass. They laid there in a careful silence, enjoying feeling each other’s body against the other, when Cass finally said, “Don’t you need to go…clean up?” He let his hand slip lower until he could feel their mixed essences dripping out of her.
He was still inside of her and she could have sworn that she felt him harden, just the slightest.
She shook her head, nestling into his chest. “In a minute. I can’t get pregnant.”
The hand on her back stilled. “Can’t? Or won’t?”
Nesta’s body tensed as his hand froze. She slowly leaned up to meet his gaze. “Can’t.”
She waited for Cassian to say something, anything, but he didn’t. Yet the hand on her back began to move up and down her skin once more.
She laid back on his chest and closed her eyes. “I was told years ago I won’t be able to have children.”
Her voice was quiet, and for once, she found herself afraid to say it. She hadn’t ever really wanted kids, hadn’t really ever thought about settling down and starting a family.
But when she said the words to Cassian, a little bit of a heavy feeling settled into the pit of her stomach.
Having a family hadn’t been in the cards for her before. If she was too busy to have a boyfriend, how was she supposed to figure out how to juggle a child and her restaurants? So when she found out at twenty-two that she would never be a mother, she didn’t even dwell on it, hadn’t given herself time to be sad about it, or think about what that really meant.
But for Cassian, the words were a blow. He’d grown up alone, in every sense of the word. Before his mother died, she was always working nights. She would be asleep when he left for school, and would have to be at work by five. He saw very little of her. Barely knew the woman who he’d laid in the ground before his thirteenth birthday.
He’d always dreamed of having a huge family, at least three kids, maybe even four. He’d even let himself imagine what their kids might look like, with his tanned complexion, and her striking eyes. But in a moment, that dream was gone.
“Please say something,” she whispered.
Cassian nodded, although she wasn’t looking at him. “Sorry. Just surprised.” He kept his voice quiet. “It’s okay.”
What else was he supposed to say? He loved her, still, and voicing his disappointment would just upset her, and what would erase all the progress that had just been made.
He turned her head to face him. She kept her eyes closed. “Look at me,” he whispered. She opened her eyes, and a tear slid down her cheek and landed on his chest. “I love you. Okay? It’s okay.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Why are you crying?”
She shrugged lightly and said, “I didn’t even think I wanted children. When I found out, I was in culinary school and I didn’t have time for kids, nor did I have a good relationship with my family, so I thought it was a blessing in disguise and…” She sniffled and closed her eyes again, as another tear fell. “Now, things are different and I feel...broken.”
Cassian let out a breath as he pulled her in closer, holding her tightly against him. “It’s okay,” he repeated.
She wiped at her eyes against his chest before burying her face into his skin. 
They laid like that for hours, clinging to one another, Cassian telling her that he loved her over and over again, as if he couldn’t say it enough, as if he was afraid that she didn’t believe her.
It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him.
It’s that she didn’t think she deserved it.
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ahsbitch · 4 years
Text
Something Strange In The Air (Part 2)
Word Count: 2544
Summary: In the aftermath of your...incident with Michael, you’re still tumbling to figure out what you’re doing. 
Warnings: It’s probably bad idk, oral (male receiving), face fucking, degradation, Mean!Michael & Being Mean To Michael, blue balls, waxing poetic, lots of cursing (as always), idk i can’t think of any others 
A/N: Sorry this is really short and sorry it took so long I’m in college so I’ve been busy and I was writing a oneshot for a different fandom which took some time, the next chapter will have more plot to it and stuff I promise, my apologies for shitty writing and being a super slow writer, I’m doing my best I promise. As always, comments (even just in the tags) are always ultra appreciated!!!!!
Mini Tags: @wroteclassicaly @1-666-coven @michaellangdonstanaccount uhhh there are others but i can’t remember if i forgot to tag you i’m sorry pls remind me 
ALSO I PUT IN THE KEEP READING THING BUT IT REFUSES TO WORK SO SORRY ABOUT THAT
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was poetry flashing through your mind.
Some say the world will end in fire
Bits and pieces. 
Death, be not proud
You couldn’t get him off your mind. 
Doing a man’s work, though a child at heart 
Couldn’t get your dream off your mind. 
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams 
The way he had looked at you, in it, how he had held your hand.
He kindly stopped for me-
Michael often called you little witch,
Leave my loneliness unbroken 
But he had never called you his little witch, as he had in the dream. 
There will be time to murder and create
He was beautiful, almost angelic in appearance, you had to admit.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
And he pulled you in, in spite of how hard you tried to ignore it
I can no longer remain away from you
It was almost disgusting, how much you thought about him. 
Curse, bless, me now with your tears, I pray
There was something about him that frightened you.
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
A lot about him that frightened you, actually. 
A waking on a morn
“Y/N,” Cordelia spoke, and you could tell from her tone that this wasn’t the first time she’d said your name, “Are you with me?” 
Shit, you’d gotten distracted. 
You’d been called to a meeting in Cordelia’s office, made it to one of the chairs, and immediately spaced out. 
You hadn’t really seen Michael in almost a week, nothing more than passing glimpses in the halls and quick pulses of his energy in the air. You’d been avoiding him. Or maybe he’d been avoiding you. Honestly, you couldn’t remember. You hadn’t spent a single night in your bedroom, instead floating around to parties and going to the swamps to practice your magic rather than spend time in the study room. 
Fuck, things were getting complicated.
“I’m with you,” You smiled cautiously at her, “I’m sorry.” 
She smiled back, something you couldn’t quite determine just behind her eyes. Concern, of course, her whole aura was clearly very concerned, but something else, and then she was speaking, her voice as calm as ever, “Don’t be sorry. Are you feeling okay?” 
Of course not.
“Of course I am!” 
“Try again,” Her hands were folded neatly on her desk, and you dropped your gaze to look at them, Cordelia’s words making you feel a strange sense of shame, “I’m a little worried about you, Y/N.” 
Your ears were burning, your heart jumping wildly in your chest, “I’m sorry.” 
She sighed, shaking her head, “Don’t be sorry. Just... what’s going on with you? What’s going on between you and Michael Langdon?”
Shit.
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t been sleeping in your room, or studying in the house,” Cordelia looked at you strangely, and you held your breath, “Have you still been fighting?”
She didn’t know.
Thank fuck. 
“Yes,” You responded, perhaps a little too quickly, “Yes, we have. We just can’t seem to agree on anything.”
Not entirely untrue.
She nodded sympathetically, and you were relieved to feel that she believed that was it, “I’m sorry. I feared something like this might happen. But Y/N, you need to return to your room.You can’t be out every night, and you can’t do all of your studying in the swamps. You’re still a student here. You have to be present, at least sometimes.”
“Okay,” Nodding, you worked on getting your breathing fully back to normal, “I’ll be back in my room tonight.” 
“Good,” Cordelia reached out and squeezed your hand gently, “I’m proud of you, Y/N. You are a powerful witch, and a good woman. I believe in you.” 
Not able to make yourself respond, you simply flashed her a smile and bolted for the door, blinking back tears.
Fuck, she’d bee so disappointed if she knew the truth. 
You were barely out of the office when the door to a closet opened and someone tugged you inside, slamming it shut. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What the fuck, Michael?” You snapped, blinking into the darkness. 
Michael’s hand clamped over your mouth as he let out a growl, “Be quiet, little witch.” 
You worked your mouth until you managed to clamp your teeth onto the skin of his palm, biting as hard as you could. 
“Fuck,” He hissed, jerking away from you, “That hurt!”
“Good,” Glaring, you reached for the cord on the light and tugged on it, the weak bulb flickering overhead, “What the fuck?”
Glowering at you in the dim light, Michael crossed his arms, “What did Cordelia want?”
“None of your business.”
“I’m pretty sure it is,” Shaking his head, he scoffed at you, “It was about me, wasn’t it? Does she know?” 
It was childish to play dumb, and you knew that, but you were doing it anyway, “Does she know what? Why would we want to talk about you?” 
It took only a single step for Michael to back you against the wall, pinning you there with his hips, "Don’t even bother with that shit. Answer the fucking question.” 
You shoved at his chest, although even you had to admit that it was a halfhearted push. His proximity, especially after so long away from him, was overwhelming, and you felt your mind slipping to a place you didn’t want it to be, “Get the fuck away from me, asshole.” 
Another shove, and he wrapped his hands around your wrists, holding them over your head, “You weren’t asking me to do that last time we saw each other, were you, little witch? Now. Does Cordelia know?” 
“No,” Growling, you tried in vain to pull your hands back, “We talked about you, but she doesn’t know about that. Now let me go.” 
Tilting his head to the side, Michael laughed at you, “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not the one in charge here.”
“Fuck you,” You spat, beginning to shake with something between fury and a feeling that you didn’t quite want to acknowledge.
“This is a pretty color,” Michael shifted both of your wrists to one hand and brought the other down to trail across your lips, tapping at the soft flesh, smudging a bit of the golden sheen, “Did you put this on for me?” 
Ever since that day in the study room, not that day but the one before, you had taken to wearing more and more lipstick, coating your lips in a new color everyday. 
Today was gold, one that shimmered when the light hit it, and if you were honest, yes, you did put it on for Michael. Every time you reapplied a coat of lipstick, today and every other, he flashed through your mind, the sneer on his features, the echo of his words in your ear when his fingers were down your throat. 
“You look good like this...Gagging...You wear revealing clothes and you act like you’re doing it for yourself...But really you’re just a dumb, depraved, desperate little whore who wants nothing more than to be dicked down by your rival.” 
Fuck, just thinking about it sent a wave of wetness gushing through you, and you tensed your legs in an effort to ignore it, and the smirk on Michael’s face told you that he had noticed. 
Yes, you were wearing it for him. 
“No,” You had to crane your head to glare at him with how close he was, “I don’t know if this is the first time you’re hearing this, but not everything is about you, Boy Wonder.” 
He hummed, drawing his fingers along your cheekbone, and you cursed yourself for the way you leaned into the contact ever so subtly. After a moment he pressed his lips against yours, and although you fought to keep yourself in control, to keep from kissing him back, cursing yourself once again when you couldn’t hold yourself back, your noses smashing against one another, your mouth slipping open with a groan, quickly intruded upon by Michael’s tongue, which battled fiercely with yours. 
And then suddenly he pulled away from you and stepped back, and you fell to your knees as he chuckled, his hands unbuckling his belt, “All the same, little bitch, I think that color would look wonderful smeared all over my cock, don’t you?” 
“I fucking hate you,” You glared up at him through your eyelashes as one of his hands gripped your hair, the other pulling his dick out of the confines of his slacks. 
“That just makes this all the more pathetic, doesn’t it?” He slapped your cheek with his dick gently, and it wasn’t lost on you how perfect it was, the size and the ridging and and the pulsing veins and the furious pink of the tip all making your mouth water, “Get up and walk away if you want, little witch bitch. But I don’t think you will. I think you want this. I think that being a little whore is the calling you’re pulled to most.” 
Get up and walk away.
You could do that. 
He pulled his hand from your hair, letting your head drop back, and you knew that if you moved to stand he would release you, would let you go. His precum had leaked onto your face as he continued to hit your cheeks, waiting to see what you would do. 
Just get up and walk away. 
But you couldn’t, couldn’t bring yourself to walk away without having the chance to taste him, not when the very thought was sending arousal roaring through you, and while you wished you could directly blame this on Michael, could say that his magic was holding you in place, that simply wasn’t it. 
You opened your mouth as wide as you could and in an instant his cock was down your throat, Michael setting off to fuck your face at an intense pace. 
Gagging, you brought your hands up to his thighs, and when your nails scratched against his legs through the fabric or his dress pants Michael let out a high, desperate groan. 
Although you couldn’t quite smile at that, with how full your mouth was, there was a little voice gloating in the back of your head, and you squeezed his thigh tightly, drinking down his moans as you moved until his own back had hit the wall, his hands desperately moving from your hair to your shoulders to simply slamming down on either side of his body. 
“Your mouth is good for something, I guess,” Michael grunted, as though he wasn’t as desperate for you as you had been for him a week ago, “You’re much prettier when you’re not talking, did you know that?” 
You managed to flick back your middle finger enough to flip him off, although you didn’t pull back to make a verbal response. There was something urgent about this, and the idea of dropping him from your mouth seemed too great a sacrifice to make, when the harmony of Michael’s shockingly soft, animalistic moans mixed with the lewd, wet noises of his dick hitting the back of your throat was so disgustingly lovely. 
Michael’s hands twitched, as though he was going to grab at your hair again, and at that moment he seemed to finally notice your own magic in the air, holding his wrists in place.
“You little bitch,” He snarled, straining against the magic, but all he could do was buck his hips into your mouth even harder, letting out a hiss as your teeth grazed him, as your tongue swirled around his head, “Let me go.” 
But where’s the fun in that? 
You didn’t let him go, and you didn’t stop. If anything, you grew more intense, your hands managing all over him, sneaking past the fabric of his clothes to leave angry scratches on his skin, so smooth underneath your touch. Eventually one of them trailed to his balls, tugging and toying with them roughly as he began to strain even harder, began to make a choked noise at the back of his throat that made your thighs clench, and you knew he was going to cum soon. 
You pulled your mouth off of him. 
He looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, panting, desperate, watching as you trailed your tongue over every inch of his dick, pulling his balls into your mouth and sucking them slowly, and finally you pressed a kiss to the skin just above his cock and leaned back with a grin.
“What the fuck,” Michael growled, although his face showed a kind of manic desperation that he clearly wasn’t used to, “Get back to it!”
“No, I don’t think I will,” Your smile got even wider, although your mouth was sore and your voice scratchy, you decided it was worth it, “You call me a little bitch all the time, but who’s the bitch now, Boy Wonder?” 
“Y/N, I’m serious. I will ruin you,” Snarling in spite of the pained expression starting to grow on his face, he thrusted against you, and you let out a giggle at that. 
“It’s so cute that you say that while you’re humping my leg like an unfixed puppy,” Shaking your head, you took a step back, out of the range of his hips, and looked down to admire his flushed, throbbing dick, “You were right, y’know. The gold does look good on there .Especially the contrast it has with the blue of your balls.”
He looked down to see that your words were true, the skin becoming overtaken with a pale, bruise like color, and when Michael looked back up at you there was something murderous in his eyes, “Quit fucking around. Let me go, and finish.” 
“Why should I?”
Arms straining against their magical containment, face twisting with the growing pain in his balls, Michael’s voice had grown croaky, “Do it. I will never touch you again, if you walk away from this, do you get that you desperate little whore? You want me. You need me. Do what I fucking tell you.” 
“I think there’s been a serious misunderstanding here, Langdon. I don’t need anything from you. You keep saying you’re the one in charge, but look at you. You’re nothing but a little blonde bimbo. So fuck you,” You scoffed, trailing a single hand across his chest and giving his nipple a harsh pinch, letting out a laugh at his angered whine, “And by the way, Cordelia says I have to move back into our room. I’ll be back tonight. I’ll see you whenever you get around to being the powerful warlock everyone thinks you are and break through my magic.”
With that, you pressed a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of his lip and turned away, not bothering to fix your own appearance before you went out, turning the light off before you closed Michael in the closet. 
You were proud of yourself, you had to admit. 
Scared, perhaps, of what he might do, and curious as to whether or not he’d keep the promise that he’d never touch you again-not that you wanted him to, of course, you were just curious-but you were proud all the same. 
Fucking Michael Langdon. 
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