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storiesofsvu · 2 years

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Her Everything Ch 9

Warnings: Language, talk of racially sensitive stuff (s17 episode related), character death (it’s just Dodd’s, don’t worry). A lot of talk of the job.

A/N: This covers all of season 17 in one chapter, I didn’t want to do a huge time jump at this point, and honestly, this year hit the squad/da HARD, so it made sense to include these kind of things in the story. Next chapter is somewhat similar but with a million times more fluff. Also I had to watch Dodd’s die like, 3 times to get this chapter out. You’re welcome

Buy me a Ko-Fi.

The next month and a half was definitely one of mourning, a disheartened fog hung thick in the apartment. Aside from grieving his Abuelita, Rafael knew you were going through the annually internal struggle of coping with your own Mother’s death. The two of you did your absolute best to stay strong for each other, making sure there was time carved out of your busy schedules to curl up on the couch together, reassuring each other that things would work out. You were lucky to have each other, and even more lucky that the events over the past little bit brought you tighter together rather than drive a wedge in between you. Especially considering what the upcoming year was about to throw at both the NYPD and the D.A’s office.

First it was discovered that the chief medical examiner was in fact, a serial killer, outed by the notorious Greg Yates, Rollins found out she was pregnant, you were thrown a new Sergeant who happened to be the Chief’s son and then Rafael brought home a case he was sure would spark a huge fight. Uni’s from another precinct had shot and killed an unarmed black teenager, quite literally emptying their clips into the poor kid. You’d been on the scene with the rest of the SVU crew to witness the aftermath. Olivia was quick to stand up for the uni’s, arguing with Barba, saying the cops were doing their job, and he expected the same thing from you considering you were part of the blue.

“Suppose this is the part where you yell at me for going after an indictment.” He muttered as he came in the door that evening, tugging out files to continue working.

“Are you kidding me?” You glanced up from your laptop and he could see the rage and melancholy burning in your eyes, “You weren’t at that scene Raf, there was absolutely no reason for one of those pricks to unload his entire round into that kid, much less all three of them. One or two shots and he would’ve been subdued, it’s like these idiots forget they have tasers.”

“And if they’re claiming they were fearing for their lives?”

“Three people with guns vs someone they thought was armed?” You rolled your eyes, shutting the laptop, “I’d tell ‘em they should wear their vests more often. And I’ll testify to that.” You moved around the island to where he’d set up shop, kissing the side of his head.

“I’d rather keep you out of this one.”

“Too prejudicial?”

“Yes.” You leaned in again, kissing his cheek softly,

“I’m gonna shower..” You’d made it a few steps away when he turned to you again, calling out towards the hallway.

“Carino?” Stopping, you turned to face him, leaning on the door frame. “Have..you ever killed someone?”

“Once.” You sighed heavily, “He’d kidnapped and raped an eleven year old girl. We managed to track him down to a hideaway house, my partner went in without backup, by the time I got inside the perp had a gun to my partner’s head, loaded and cocked, ready to shoot.”

“Sounds like you’re not the biggest firearm fan.” You let out a huff of a laugh,

“Listen Raf, some of these guys, they head straight to the academy after high school, rising through the ranks if they feel like it. For them, all they care about is the power, feeling cool cause they’re a cop. I didn’t do it for the gun and the badge, I do it for the victims. I went to school, I got a degree, I took extra courses in psychology, crisis counselling, I’m heavily trained in first aid so if someone is shot on a scene I can do my best for them to make it to a hospital, even if it is a perp. I’m here to solve their crimes and get them back into the world on the right foot. I could give a fuck if I had a gun on my hip or not. It may be protocol for me to draw my weapon in situations, but I do my damn best not to fire it. Indict these trigger happy bastards, it’s what they deserve.” Rafael couldn’t help the small smirk at your words,

“You did once say you were the cop that kept other cop’s toes in line.”

“I do my best to make sure innocent people don’t get killed. Just wish we would’ve gotten there faster, might’ve been able to stop them.” You turned at that, traipsing down the hallway as Rafael called after you.

“It’s not your fault!”

“I know.” You shouted back wearily from the bedroom.

You noticed Rafael a little more on edge as the trial for the three uni’s started, to be fair, everyone was a little on edge. The entire department was shaken up by the matter, and there were definitely more than one or two blow outs over the entire situation, not to mention the media. You did your best to keep your head down and keep doing what you were doing, there were plenty more cases to be working on. And it seemed like SVU wasn’t going to be let off easy. Benson got herself into a hostage mess in a townhouse, Yates and Rudnick managed to somehow escape Greenhaven which meant more visits from the Chicago P.D team, and then there was a giant mess of a sex ring involving the Catholic Church, corrupt cops, A.D.A’s and Judges.

To say you were beyond exhausted was the ultimate truth. By the time May rolled around, you were more than thankful to be able to have a few days off. Rafael had suggested a nice dinner to celebrate your three year anniversary, you only groaned in response, not even wanting to think about putting on a dress and going out right now. You apologized when you saw the rejected look in his eyes, promising him you could do something in the following weeks, but for right now, you just wanted to curl up with take out and wine. You picked a date and Rafael softly kissed you, telling you that he’d plan it out, you had nothing to worry about.

Then came the Munson case, things were all hands on deck, and it was busy as ever at the precinct, as if you hadn’t taken down enough influential perps this year, you were now dealing with a corrupt C.O from Rikers. You’d spent the evening going over things with Dodds, files scattered across your desks, working much later than anticipated. It was only when Liv insisted the two of you be done for the night that you finally left the precinct. You were surprised to find Rafael at home already, thinking he’d still be at the office, this was a tough case, with a lot of pressure coming from higher ups and other departments.

“Rafael…?”

“Hmm?” He didn’t bother looking up from the file he was reading.

“Wanna enlighten me as to why there’s a protective detail downstairs?” His head shot up at that, sputtering in response, his heart racing in his chest.

“I..uh. What?”

“You think I can’t recognize an unmarked car or two plain clothes? Did something happen with the case?”

“It..may not be related to the Munson case.”

“Oh?” He sighed heavily. Rafael hated the fact that he’d been keeping this secret, he just hadn’t thought it was that important until today, and he hadn’t wanted you to worry over nothing.

“I’ve been getting threats since the Terrance Reynolds case. Nothing serious!” He shot out, seeing the sense of shock and worry on your face, “Just, hang up calls from burners, texts, things like that.”

“Okay…so I’ll repeat; why is there a protective detail downstairs?”

“Carino, you might want to stay somewhere else for a few days.”

“Rafael what are you not telling me?” You cocked a brow, crossing your arms over your chest challenging him to continue withholding whatever it was.

“Today some punk threatened to throw me down the court house stairs and crack my skull.”

“Raf!” You started to move towards him, dropping your detective stance in worry, he cut you off with an extended hand.

“And I may have given him our home address.” He definitely should’ve seen the swift smack to the back of the head coming,

“Are you kidding me Rafael!? Maldito idiota!” You let out a heavy groan, “You’ve been getting threats for the better part of a year and instead of reporting them, instead of telling your girlfriend, who may I remind you is a fucking cop, you give your actual address out to someone who threatened to kill you? How stupid are you?!”

“I didn’t want to worry you.” You rolled your eyes, “I wanted to keep you safe, keep you out of it as long as needed until it blew over.”

“Well I’m in it now!”

“I’m sorry.” Your body language softened at the true remorse in his expression, moving in between his legs against the bar stool as you loosely linked your hands behind his neck.

“Apology accepted.” You met his lips for a soft kiss, humming in satisfaction at the way his hand cupped your cheek gently, the other arm resting on your hip. “You’re still an idiot.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Oh I know you will.” You flashed him a mischievous grin, “Put all this away and come to bed, that way you can reallymake it up to me.”

“I will gladly take that offer.” You laughed at the smirk he shot you before tightly pulling you to him in a much more heated kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you always.” You murmured against his lips, tugging him to stand, following you back to the bedroom.

Rafael was down at the precinct a couple of days later, they’d managed to track down and bring in the perp who’d threatened him and he needed to make an I.D with Carisi and Rollins.

“Where is everybody?” Rafael asked, gesturing to the relatively empty bull pen, ‘Congratulations Dodds’ banner still up along with a half eaten cake.

“Doin’ a closin’ job at Munson’s.” Sonny replied, dropping down into his desk.

“All of them?”

“Fin’s with the vic. It’s new policy with close jobs, one body per group of civilians, Liv, Dodds and Y/N, one gets the kids, one handles the wife, one handles Munson.” Rafael grimaced at the thought of you out there with someone like Munson, especially on a close job, he reminded himself that you always reassured him you could take care of yourself, but something just wasn’t sitting right.

Back in his office he had the news on in the background, an attempt to try and keep up with the case from the media’s perspective. His head shot up from his opening argument when a breaking news case broke through the screen, Munson’s mugshot splayed across the screen, the anchor mentioning that in a turn of events the man had taken his wife and two NYPD members hostage and shots had been fired by the man, conditions of the others currently unknown.

He felt his heart drop into the absolute pit of his stomach, his pulse instantly began to race as the panic coursed through his veins. His brain flashed back to the conversation about guns you’d had earlier that year, how you used all plausible options before firing your weapon and in that moment, God did he ever wish you were one of the trigger happy ones instead. Barely thinking he grabbed his phone, tossing his jacket back on as he raced out of the D.A’s office, Lincoln Hospital was the closest one to the Bronx, the closest to the Munson’s house, it had to be where you were. His phone called you on repeat the entire twenty minute drive over, each time it hit your voicemail he felt his entire soul breaking. How on earth had he been so stupid to not tell you just how much he loved you each day he spent with you, that he loved you more than he could ever imagine, more than anything in the entire world.

His gut of where you would be was right on the nose as he sped into the waiting room, brass was everywhere, he spotted Olivia with Tucker, heading straight to them.

“Where is she?” He didn’t realize how out of breath he was, nor how shaky is words came out. Olivia barely glanced up at him, still in a daze of guilt, not properly thinking.

“‘Round the corner, second door on the left.”

That was at least something good, it meant you weren’t in surgery, it meant if you’d been hit you might be out for a while, but at least you were closer to being alive than he’d worried. Rafael didn’t even notice racing past Sonny as he exited the door Liv had specified, he practically collided right into you as you moved to the doorway.

“Raf-?” The only way you could describe the sound he let out was a choked back strangle of a cry. Your front was nearly completely covered in blood, a smear of it still on your neck you hadn’t realized was there. He roughly pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around you in the tightest hug possible, one of his hands cupping the back of your head, fingers tangling into the messy bun. You felt his body nearly shake against you as he melted into you, holding you there until he’d managed to control his breathing again, feeling that you were in his arms, that you were safe, not open on an operating table somewhere.

“Why the fuck haven’t you been answering your phone? I thought you were hit. Are you okay?!” He pulled back and you could see the tears brimming in his eyes. Your hand reached up to stroke his cheek gently,

“Oh Rafa..I’m fine.” Your lips met his cheek, holding there for a moment, letting him realize you were real, and that you were really okay, “I was just giving blood, Mike’s…lost a lot..things aren’t looking good.”

“I’ve been calling you non stop for half an hour!” Your face scrunched,

“My phone never went off..” You stepped over to a nearby chair, rummaging through the bag a nurse had given you to throw your blood soaked blazer in. You’d whipped it off as fast as you could to try and stop the bleeding in Mike’s abdomen at the Munson’s. Digging through it your hands hit both pockets, then shook the blazer out over the bag. Nothing. Your hands patted down the minimal pockets of your dress pants, double checking you hadn’t shoved it into your bra, you turned back to Rafael with a look of apology on your face, “I…I don’t have it. It must’ve fallen out at the house. Mi Amour, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” Your hand grasped his, pulling it to your lips quickly before wrapping your arms around him once again, “I’m here, okay. I’m fine, I’m safe. I’m with you, and I love you always.”

“Marry me.” You almost didn’t hear the words muffled against your skin, pulling your head back to read his face.

“What?”

“I thought I’d lost you today, and the only thing I could think of the entire time was that I never told you just how much I loved you. Carino you’re the only person I want to be with for the rest of my life. I love you more than anything, and I’ve known that for a while now. Abuelita knew you were the one the moment she met you, it may have taken me a bit to catch up, but I know she wasn’t wrong. Marry me.” You were doing the best to control any amount of confusion or awe from expressing itself on your face, you couldn’t control the smallest of smiles, the tears brimming in your eyes at his admission. You knew you loved Rafael more than anything on the planet, and that you always would, you just had no idea he’d been on the same page.

“Is..is this because of..” You gestured slightly, insinuating to the whole hostage, getting shot situation.

“No.” He grasped your free hand in his, “Well, kind of, but the ring’s at the apartment. I had this whole plan for next week for our date, but I don’t want to wait any longer. I needed you to know now.” He felt his heart rate pick up again, but this time because he suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable. He’d laid his feelings out on the table and it was your choice that would either crush them completely or elate him more than he could ever imagine.

“Oh Rafael…of course I’ll marry you!” A small giggle escaped your lips as he pulled you in for a kiss, this one more passionate than the others, “Te amo siempre.” You murmured against his lips, happy to have this little private moment to yourselves.

Truthfully, your little bubble of happiness remained just that. A few hours later, when Dodds was finally in the ICU, he ended up having a massive stroke and was declared legally brain dead. Rafael held you tighter when the news came in, knowing that your brain was racing through every moment in that house, the million things you could’ve done differently to end up with a different outcome, not to mention the shot could still have hit you in the heat of the moment. The squad reluctantly left the hospital in a sense of complete exhaustion, both mentally and physically, everyone coping with it in different ways, it always stung harder losing one of your own.

You and Rafael decided to keep the news of the engagement under wraps, out of respect for Mike and the Dodds’ family, it wasn’t exactly the time to be celebrating. While he did give you the ring the next morning, you only wore it around the house, making sure to stash it back in the little blue box before heading into work.

It was actually on accident nearly a month later, you’d been out running a couple errands, diamond on your hand when Liv called you in for a case. You had to drop everything and head into the precinct without the time to go home first and hadn’t even realized. You were in interrogation talking things through with the perp while she watched through the glass, smirking at how much you talked with your hands, the diamond ever so obvious. She turned to Rafael when he showed up, smile on her face,

“Congratulations.”

“What? The bastard that stupid?” She laughed, nodding towards the window,

“That’s one hell of a ring.” Rafael felt his cheeks flush, a grin breaking out on his cheeks as he realized what she was talking about.

“Yeah, well, she deserves it. She deserves everything.”

“She really loves you, you know.” Liv smirked over at him, “I can always tell when she’s distracted texting you when she’s supposed to be working, the silly grin’s a dead giveaway.” Rafael couldn’t help the laugh at that,

“Sorry. I promise I’m not trying to distract your detectives.”

“‘S’long as you’re only distracting her, I’m fine. You make her happy, incredibly happy. And I’m happy for the two of you, really.”

“Thanks Liv.” He gave her a soft smile before turning his attention back to the interrogation room, his eyes lingering on you before fully tuning into the conversation.

You made him so happy his heart nearly hurt, he couldn’t remember feeling like this in years, you’d swooped into his life and nearly stolen it all away. He knew how incredibly lucky he was to have you, how lucky he was that you said yes, that you excitedly put that ring on your finger, and now, would be able to proudly wear it.

The rest of the squad was pretty quick to find out at that point, everyone congratulating the two of you and teasing you about how you were stuck with Barba for the rest of your life now. You laughed it off, saying you wouldn’t have it any other way. Amanda of course was quick to suggest a night out to celebrate it, and honestly, thanks to the months prior, the squad neeeded something to celebrate, to be happy for, so you agreed. A night out with the team and Rafael at Beekman, you were quick to insist on no decorations or any kind of bullshit like a ‘bride to be’ sash, this wasn’t the bachelorette party or anything. Though you didn’t miss the gleam in Rollins’ eye when you mentioned that, you knew you were in for it.

Lucia was over the moon, ecstatic that Rafael had finally made the move and couldn’t wait for the wedding, which you quickly reminded her would probably take a while. You were leaning towards a longer engagement, both of your schedules so constantly busy and up in the air you figured you’d use the small amount of time off both of you had to decide on smaller things before booking a venue or setting a date, where was the rush anyways? You both loved each other more than you could imagine, a silly ceremony and piece of paper wasn’t going to change that

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #law and order #her everything #law and order svu #svu #law and order special victims unit

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kratosfan6632466 · 8 months

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Sweet tooth and zima

“Fuck buddy”

Zima was once in the same asylum with needles Kane aka sweet tooth he helped her escape she tried warning people of the black plague

*Zima was walking across the street she sensed somebody familiar watching her *

Zima : alright whoever it is come out!

*Zima said before lunging at him*

Sweet tooth : GAH! Dammit what the fuck zi????!!!

Zima : wha- it’s you! You have been stalking me for days!

Sweet tooth : I’m sorry! I wasn’t sure if it was you or if I was seeing things again!

Zima : sweet tooth right?

Sweet tooth : yes but call me Kane for short anyway it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other and I was hoping….you’d come to my show

Zima : oh yeah! Of course i will!

Sweet tooth took her inside his home and gave her the show *

Zima watched through the entire thing

Zima : wow….

Sweet tooth : really? Was it that good?

Zima : to me and Harold yes

Sweet tooth : awww you guys!

Zima smiles*

Sweet tooth took her to his bedroom *

Zima : uh….Kane what are you doing…?

Sweet tooth : I want to show you how much I appreciate you so…I have a surprise for you ~

Zima : well I do love surprises

Sweet tooth : alright I’m gonna lift up the mask tell NOBODY what happened here today

Zima : of course not!

Sweet tooth : good…do you consent to physical contact?

Zima : mhm

*Kane smiles and strips her down *

Sweet tooth : wow….

Zima heard the thong song in the background *

Sweet tooth : you definitely have a dump truck ~

Zima blushes*

Sweet tooth touches her ass*

Zima made a slight moan *

Sweet tooth smirks*

Sweet tooth : oh yeah I’m definitely fucking you

Zima : w-what??? Oh…*blushed red realizing that he was sexually attracted to her*

Sweet tooth : that’s ok right friends helping friends?

Zima : sure

He crouched down between her legs

Sweet tooth : I’m going to give you something I like to call “the sweet tooth special “~

Sweet tooth : but don’t tell anyone what I look like without the mask ok?

Zima : ok

*Sweet tooth lifts his mask up *

*He begins eating her out *

Zima gasps then moans*

Zima in her head asks : “am I in love with a serial killer??????”

Sweet tooth kepts going curious about what she was thinking about but continued *

Zima kept moaning *

Sweet tooth kept going until she came *

Sweet tooth put his mask back on*

Sweet tooth : what’s on your mind ?

Zima ; uh…..I-it’s nothing important

Sweet tooth : well alright just know that we’re buddies and we can talk about pretty much anything

Zima : well….what do you think about couples in general?

*Sweet tooth thinks a moment before answering*

Sweet tooth : well….it would be nice to be loved more than a friend….but …I mean my parents betrayed me …they sent me to that asylum instead of helping me…so in return I murdered them so as long as they don’t turn their backs on me I can see it possible

Zima : hm….

Sweet tooth : anyways ….come here

Zima blushes as he gets his cock out *

Zima blushes as he gets her into position *

He slid inside her and thrusts slowly *

Zima : mh….

Sweet tooth : this feel ok? Am I hurting you?

Zima : n-no keep going

Sweet tooth : good last thing I want is to hurt my best friend

He continued thrusting into her zima moans softly *

Sweet tooth : you feel so good….

Zima pants as he picks up speed *

*Sweet tooth looks in her eyes seeing her pure lust *

Sweet tooth : heh….almost done sweet girl

*He goes faster as they both climaxed*

Sweet tooth : oh that felt great….

Zima : yeah it did

Sweet tooth : rest well zima

#Oop! did zima just confess something?!! 🫢#zima lurzo #my ocs #sweet tooth twisted metal

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nctsworld · 3 years

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two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone off to one side.

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.”

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly.

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

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slickfordain · 2 years

Text

Let’s get to work babes. Requested by my BFF

You were guarding the beach, eyes observing every place. You were a militant just like Aguni and Niragi.

"Hey… Who’s that?" Arisu asked Kuina who hummed, her gaze meeting your figure as she widened her eyes slightly.

It was you…

"That’s (Your name)… Apparently nobody knows who they truly are."

"Really..?" Arisu looked at Kuina who only nodded, taking out her fake cigarette. "They’re also really scary. Aguni even fears (Your name) because they’re an actual serial killer. Nobody knows why and what their past is." Arisu shivered at the explanation, Usagi narrowing her eyebrows. "So they’re way worse than the others?" "You could say that…"

"That’s scary… Imagine someone so strong being scared of someone stronger…" Arisu muttered; then realized the militants came their way. Oh how Arisu wanted to obliterate himself because he thought he fucked up big time.

"Bring the girl over." Aguni demanded the militants, Arisu’s eyes widening once he saw them all trying to grab Usagi. "W-wait! No!" "Oi- don’t cause trouble!" Kuina yelled as she stopped Arisu… Then failed because Arisu held Niragi’s arm away from Usagi.

Niragi gave a nasty glare towards Arisu, before realizing you were aiming the gun at Arisu. His entire body froze. "Hey hey~ better let go of Niragi… Wouldn’t want yourself dead now would you?" Arisu froze… His own hand removing itself from Niragi, making him chuckle. "Aww~ little (Your name) truly cares for me!" Niragi was about to have an arm around you, but you didn’t take the chance and aimed the gun right underneath Niragi’s chin. He froze which caused Aguni to stay quiet meanwhile…

"Listen here you little shit… I didn’t do it to save you, I did it because that boy is a fucking important person to the beach." You glared, almost pressing the button of the gun. "If you ever dared thinking of trying to befriend me, don’t forget I will never forgive you after what you did with girls in the bedroom. Disgusting shit."

Niragi fell in silence, and nervously grinned. "Now now.. You don’t have t-" BANG!!

Just like that… Niragi fell to the floor, bleeding from the chin underneath… Many members in the beach screamed with fear as they backed up. "(Your name)… Why did you do that?" Aguni held your shoulder, giving you a glare as he had prepared a sudden punishment for you. You weren’t allowed to kill a militant member.

But oh how wrong they were…

You definitely had the pass to kill one. "Would you like to be next, Aguni? Guns won’t kill you, but I’ll eat your lungs and organs myself." You threatened with a sinister smile. Arisu and Usagi were freaking out— You JUST killed Niragi right in front of them, and blood was spilled on their faces. Jaws were dropped except for Kuina… She rolled her eyes because she saw it coming… However; she was comfortable this time.

Niragi was a piece of shit that didn’t deserve to live. Yes, bad backstory— but he raped multiple girls just because he was BULLIED. Can you believe it?

"Now…" You looked at Usagi, who flinched at your sweet smile and gaze.

"Follow me m’lady~!" You suddenly grabbed Usagi’s hand, Usagi looking at Arisu who couldn’t do anything but clench his fists… He understood what Kuina meant right now… You were definitely terrifying.

You were strolling down the hallways, twirling your gun around until your eyes met with Chishiya who now failed to attempt stealing… He sweat dropped slightly.

"(Your name)…"

"Chishiya…"

You chuckled under your breath, skipping over to the boy who only backed up slightly. "Now now… Why aren’t you outside, hmm?" You grinned while cocking your head to the side… Chishiya couldn’t help but feel slightly threatened by you. He knew what your job was and it’s… Disgusting.

It’s rumored that you eat people. Real human beings. For breakfast.

If you had known what Chishiya was up to, he’d be doomed… But truth was… You were in love with him, opposite of what Chishiya thought.

"Just checking the hotel, like a normal medical student." Chishiya gave a faint smirk as in showing he didn’t fear you. And that he didn’t even give a shit… It just made you love him.

"Ara? Really?~" You grinned, and started to lend a hand out. "How about we have tea together then… How does that sound?" You chuckled, but heard Chishiya denying your request. "I have other plans. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be lea-" BANG!!

…

Chishiya dropped dead; you scoffing and rolling your eyes. "Oh Chishiya… I already knew what you’re up to. I saw it all on cameras…" You giggled, starting to drag by Chishiya’s arm to your bedroom. "But don’t worry!~ I’ll have lots of fun with you at our tea party…" You widely smirked… Dragging the one you loved the most.

There was no longer Chishiya, Niragi, or the Hatter… This season would definitely be more different than usual. Don’t you think so?

#reader x alice in borderland #alice in borderland #alice in boderland x reader #imawa no kuni no alice #yandere x reader #yandere alice in borderland #reader x yandere #various x reader #various #yandere reader #toxic reader #serial killer reader

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ashasmonsters · 3 years

Text

The Thru-Hiker

Female reader x Male mothperson (Desmond)

Citrus rating: Lemon

Content: Full-on smut, references to unhappy breakups

Words: 5.1k

Note: Here's the story that earns me the "18+" in my description. This is my first time making anything this smutty public, so any feedback or criticism would be appreciated. Enjoy!

You raised the viewfinder to your eye. The rolling hills fit within the frame-lines neatly, the trail before you leading straight down the middle and towards the horizon. With a satisfying click the shutter fired. You lowered the camera and cranked the film advance lever, confident that shot would turn out well. You let the camera dangle from your shoulder once again as you looked around: this spot was close enough to the main trail that you wouldn't need any "breadcrumbs" to lead you back to it in the morning. The sun would finish setting in an hour or so, and bird chirps had given way to trilling crickets and cicadas. It was warm enough that you didn't need to build a fire. Your stove would do just fine.

"That's a nice camera."

You turned towards the voice. Standing behind you, closer to the main trail and obscured slightly by foliage, loomed a lanky mothman. He wore clothes appropriate for hiking the Appalachian trail, though you hadn't seen him around. This meant he was quick or hiking the opposite direction as you.

"Thanks." You answered. He pushed a few low-hanging twigs out of the way and took a step towards you.

"Is that a..." he paused, his brow furrowing above his red compound eyes as he searched for a word, "Yashica, right?"

"Mamiya, actually." You answered, hefting the brick-shaped camera from your hip where it dangled. "It's been a pain to hike with, but I love it all the same."

"I'm sure you've got some excellent shots in that thing. I'm Desmond." He closed the remaining distance and tenderly extended a chitinous claw. You shook it in turn and returned his greeting.

"I don't believe I've seen you on the trail, Desmond," you said, "are you using those wings or hiking southbound?"

"Oh, I'm hiking southbound. Flying would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?"

"I guess that is a silly question." You lowered your eyes and made eye contact with his hiking boots. "I'm heading northbound."

"Hm. You must have started the trail pretty recently."

"That's right. I started maybe three weeks ago. You must be pretty close to finishing if you're going southbound."

"Been on the trail for five months." He answered.

"Wow." You breathed. Maybe mothmen wore it better, but he certainly looked neat for having lived in the wilderness for almost half a year. You caught yourself staring. "Um, got any tips for a relatively fresh hiker like me?"

"Take your time and enjoy yourself." He said, looking down at you. "The trail is going to take the better part of a year from you no matter what, so there's no point in rushing it."

"Thanks for the advice." A pause. You saw your reflection in his ruby eyes. "Anyway... I don't want to keep you from the trail, being nocturnal and all." You failed to suppress a tinge of longing in your voice. The sun started to kiss the horizon, making the canopy above you look like it was on fire.

"Well, actually..." Desmond rested a claw on the back of his neck fluff, "I was going to ask if you would share this spot with me. It's going to be a full moon and I planned to take a rest to enjoy it."

"Oh," you said, glad the sunset was masking your blush, "that should be fine, then."

"I don't want to impose, I could always find my own—"

"No, really, it's fine." You said, gesturing around the sizeable clearing. "We're sharing a view, not a cot. I don't mind."

"Ah, right." He played with his neck fluff again. "Well then, let's not waste the daylight." You nodded and slid your pack off.

Your sleeping arrangements for the trail had been spartan, but still comfortable. You carried a thin foam pad which rolled up nicely and fit under your sleeping bag, a tarp with hooks for hanging from above, a camp stove, and a sack to keep your food strung up a branch and away from animals.

All of this was set up fairly quickly since Desmond was helping you. He was quite tall, which made stringing up the extra food much easier than when you had done it alone. In no time, your foam pad was safely encircled by your hanging tarp and your stove was boiling a pot of water. Tonight's dinner was an Appalachian Trail classic: dehydrated cheesy rice. You took the initiative to invoke full-on luxury by adding a handful of equally dehydrated broccoli florets. You had a guest to entertain, after all.

"Thanks for making me breakfast. Dinner, in your case." Desmond said. The dim blue light from the camp stove caught only the very edges of his chitinous frame. His red eyes shone bright like a cat's through the steam from the culinary masterpiece cooking between you two.

"Consider it my treat." You smiled back. There was a pause, so you pulled a topic from the air. "Are you a photographer too? Not many people can tell apart the brands of these old things." You patted your Mamiya camera as if it were a tiny metal lapdog.

"Ah, no," He said, almost defensively, "if you have compound eyes like me, you can't really look through viewfinders. It just doesn't work."

"Right, sorry." You rubbed the back of your neck. "Where does your camera knowledge come from, then?"

"Well... you know the old mothpeople stereotype about how we like light?"

"Um." You spoke carefully. "I have heard of it."

"I kinda live up to that stereotype. Like, very much. It's why I wanted to stop here to watch the full moon."

"Okay, but how does that tie into cameras?"

"It's kind of embarrassing." He fidgeted with his long white neck fuzz. "It's the flash. When it goes off, it's like... like..."

"Like a drug?" You finished for him.

"No! Not like that. It's not addictive... I don't think. It's more like... what's that thing humans do with their nails and their skin?"

"Like scratching an itch?"

"Yes! Exactly." He said excitedly. "I don't itch, but if I did, I imagined it would feel like when a camera flash goes off."

You chuckled even though you knew he was a little embarrassed. This whole situation was just too absurd, too odd.

"So you're like a connoisseur of camera flashes." A pause. He lowered his gaze.

"Mamiyas have the best one." You chuckled again.

"Well, then." You pulled your camera from your bag and held it before you. "May I take your portrait?"

"If it's no trouble," his antennae perked up, "yes please."

Wrestling the camera into shooting position, you flipped the viewfinder open and aimed it squarely at him. The scene fit perfectly within the frame-lines; the glowing blue stove flames in the foreground and Desmond's red eyes neatly in the middle.

"Looks good to me." You said, pressing the flash release. The flash, a piece of metal the size of your thumb, sprung out of the camera and whined as the battery charged it.

"Oh, wow." He noted. You pressed the shutter—

"Goddamn!" Desmond cried, shuddering. Briefly, a low chirr seemed to emanate from him. "Pardon my French. That was good."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Most people hate when I ask to take their portrait." You cranked the film advance lever and smiled. You returned your camera to its place in your bag, then... remembered there was a meal on the stove. "Crap, I hope the bottom isn't burning." You said, quickly grabbing the stirring spoon and scraping the bottom of the pot. You continued until you were sure the food was in good shape.

"You know, when I thought about making this trek, I was worried about getting lonely. Like I wouldn't be able to put up with just myself for so long... but I've already met so many people and they've all been kind." You continued stirring the meal.

"Then what made you consider it in the first place?" Desmond asked, cocking an antenna.

"Oh... you know... adventure." You lied. The resulting pause made you painfully aware of how bad of a liar you are. The cheesy rice bubbled and spat steam at you as if heckling your poor performance.

"I'd believe that if you had a fedora and a whip. And knew where the holy grail was." He chuckled, his mandibles clicking.

"What?"

"Ah, just a stupid joke. There's these old movies..." He cut himself off and extended an empty claw, taking the spoon from you and making it his turn to stir. "I don't want to tell you your business, but everybody I've met in the past five months comes to the trail to run from something."

"Well... you're right that it's definitely my business." You tried not to scowl. The turn in conversation had resurrected an unpleasant feeling in your heart; something in the same neighborhood as shame or sadness.

"Not if what you're running from is the law and you're a serial killer or something. Then that's definitely my business." He clicked once more. His attempt to lighten the conversation didn't help that feeling much. The cheesy rice heckled him this time.

"I'm not a serial killer, I promise." You started, drawing in a sharp breath. Perhaps you just needed to vent. Maybe that would ease this malaise. "Why don't you start? Tell me what you're running from first, then I'll tell you about me." You took the stirring spoon back from him. He ran a claw down his face.

"I'm running from a breakup. We dated for three years." He sighed.

"I'm... sorry." You said, unsure of what else to say.

"Don't apologize; not unless you're the girl she ran off with." His mandibles clicked weakly. "I'm kidding. She didn't run off or anything. She didn't even cheat. She just realized that men weren't for her."

You raised an eyebrow. "Three whole years?"

"It didn't take her that long to realize it, just that long to work up the courage to tell me. Maybe I wasn't her true love, but she cared about me a lot. She was so scared of hurting me that she bottled it up for most of that time."

"You didn't want to remain friends?"

"I did— and I still do. I... I just said three things: 'I need some time to process this,' 'I'm in a lot of pain but it's not your fault,' and 'I'm going hiking for six months, call me back when I'm done.' That's all I could think of in the moment, and now I'm here."

"That's rough."

"You're telling me." His shoulders dropped. "I'm used to breakups with jerks. That I can make peace with, because then it's like a problem that solves itself. Jerk breaks up with you, therefore no more jerk to deal with. But... when it's someone that you love, that you want the best for, and that means they have to move on... that's something I'm still trying to work out." He sighed hard and lowered his crimson eyes. "I think the rice is done."

You were so caught up in his pained explanation that you lost track of time. You quickly turned off the camp stove and set the pot on the ground.

"Thanks for reminding me." You grabbed your enamel bowl as he readied his and started dishing out the rice and broccoli. You both sat there in silence, enjoying the feeling of hot food in hand. "Anyway, I guess it's my turn to share."

"Please. I wouldn't want to dump my problems on you without hearing out yours."

"I had a breakup too, though honestly I think mine wasn't as rough as yours." You said.

"We all go through different things. It's not a contest." Desmond said, idly poking his steaming meal. "Tell me about it, if you want."

So you did. Over the course of the meal, you told Desmond all about your past relationship: the fights you had with your ex, the nights spent in separate sleeping arrangements, the endless worry over how much of it was your fault. He nodded sympathetically with each painful memory you unraveled to him. Remembering it all made you feel worse, but having him listen made it feel much better. When you had no more to say, he stared at you. You saw yourself reflected in his eyes. Your spoon was trembling.

"It's okay to cry. I won't mind." Was all Desmond said before you had to set down your food and hold your face in your hands. It's like you had been saving up a surplus of tears throughout all these events and just barely they were escaping you. You could hear Desmond awkwardly scoot over in the dirt to your side before he offered a rigid shoulder to you.

"Chitin isn't exactly memory foam, but..." You rested your head on him without a second thought. One of his claws found its way to your shoulder and you felt better for it. This was the first time you had mentioned your breakup out loud and unquestionably the first time anyone had offered you a shoulder to cry on, literally or figuratively. You quickly came to find even Desmond's exoskeleton quite comfortable.

"Thanks for listening." You said as your sobs started to slow. He plainly chirred in response, making his grip on your shoulder a little tighter. His embrace was the first one you had felt since the breakup. You felt warm and safe in a way you had previously only had with your ex long ago. His neck fluff tickled you as he leaned his head onto yours.

"It's okay." You could feel his mandibles nudge your cheek as he spoke. "I know how hard it is." Your composure returned, and you stilled yourself against him. You finally removed your hands from your face, your eyes bloodshot.

"I'm glad I'm not wearing makeup." You chuckled weakly. "Otherwise my cheeks would look like a barcode right now."

"That's the spirit. Enjoy the little things." He rubbed your shoulder. "That's what the trail is all about."

You found yourself naturally holding Desmond closer, burying yourself in his neck fluff and wrapping an arm around his side as he held you. He smelled like pine and smoke. You grabbed your bowl of food once more and resumed eating, not leaving Desmond's side.

"I'm sorry for smearing my tears all over you." You said, coming back to reality. The taste of rehydrated cheesy rice wasn't great, but it was warm and familiar. Combined with Desmond's arm wrapped around you, the pain and baggage from the breakup left you like grime after a shower.

"It's alright." He said. "If moths could cry, I'd be crying all over you too. We're in the same shitty breakup boat."

He and you sat there together, finishing the meal. The camp stove had been turned off for a while now, and the only warmth you felt was your own, reflected off his chitin. The pause was permeated by lesser insects chirping and wind gently rustling the branches above. As you finished your food, you became painfully aware that Desmond couldn't hold you forever. He'd have to get in his sleeping bag eventually, and in the morning, continue his hike to nowhere other than your distant memories. Or, maybe...

"Want to share my sleeping bag with me?" The words left your mouth before you could even react. A second later, you realized what you had said and your heart raced. Your face found itself hidden in your hands again.

Why the fuck would you say that? Are you crazy? How would you feel if he randomly propositioned you for sex, huh? To which your responded to yourself with, Screw it, I'd be down for that.

Oh well. The fact he'd leave forever in the morning was both a blessing and a curse... but for now, mostly a blessing. It didn't matter if you were "rebounding" or doing something impulsive. Whatever happened tonight would stay in tonight. You and him would go your separate ways and there wouldn't be any regrets to be had. You practically held your breath as he processed what you said; the pause felt infinitely long.

"I'd love to." He broke the silence, his mandibles clicking more than usual. "Unless you're having second thoughts."

You looked up at him and shook your head. Wordlessly, he took your hand stood up with you. You led him to your dangling tarp wherein your sleeping bag and foam pad rested. Luxurious it was not, but as you slapped aside the flap and pulled Desmond in behind you, little else other than him was on your mind. You sat down on your "bed" and turned round, looking at him. His saucer-sized red eyes glowed as they met your gaze. He stepped closer.

"You're sure?" He said, kneeling before you. "I don't want to—"

You leaned forward and grabbed his head, clumsily planting a kiss where his mouth would be if he was human. It seemed to do the trick; he gasped and relaxed, his mandibles caressing your cheeks. You pulled back to breathe.

"I'm not asking you to marry me." You planted another kiss on him, tugging on his neck fluff. "I'm asking you to keep me company tonight."

"If you insist." He clicked. Something in his tone changed. For the first time his voice had timbre and need. He had left his tone suited for polite conversation and jokes outside your tarp. Here on your twin-sized foam pad, all pretenses were gone. You both knew you were going to give yourselves to each other; yet he surprised you by tugging the neck of your shirt down and scattering little kisses from your chin to your collarbone with his proboscis. It was rough and leathery and frankly didn't feel like anything you had touched before. You shuddered when he took it with him, descending past your breasts and peeling your shirt off your belly.

"Desmond..." You sighed, the only thing keeping this encounter casual being the button on your jeans.

"Everything alright so far?" He looked up at you with his large eyes, his mandibles brushing against your thigh as he spoke.

"Excellent." You breathed, resting a hand on the back of his neck fluff. "Please..." You used the same hand to ever-so-gently nudge him closer to your midst, which was already roiling with burning need. With a single claw, he carefully undid the button and zipper. You shimmied out of your jeans until his neck fluff tickled the inside of your exposed thighs; your underwear soon followed. He clicked some more as you fully exposed your entrance to him, his eyes studying you and his claws gently finding their way to each of your legs.

"Forgive me, it's been a while." He said as he lowered his face into you. You reclined further, only gazing upwards to the tarp and a tiny patch of starry sky.

"Don't talk, just— Ah!" He pulled a gasp from you as he began his ministrations. With your head resting on the foam pad, you just closed your eyes and let the sensations fill you. Something of his, you weren't quite sure what, playfully danced around the edges of your entrance until it found its mark. It gently flicked across that tender nub and your hips bucked in response. You held his neck plumage tighter, desperately tugging him closer to you.

"Keep going, that's— oh, that's perfect..." He didn't resist your pull. If anything, as his fuzz tickled you and his mandibles started to prod at your folds he increased his fervor. Relentlessly he played across all parts of you at once. Hard chitinous mandibles spread you open while his proboscis felt like it was everywhere. It rubbed your bead with every advance it made into you, filling you with a tingling warmth that spread throughout your whole body. He didn't let up at all, your breath hitching and leaving you as moans. You rocked your hips and whined. Harder and harder, rhythmically to a rapidly increasing tempo. You gripped him tighter, burying his face into you. Ecstasy built within your core with each surge of his "tongue" until you could hold on no longer.

"Oh, oh!" You cried, your body seizing and legs locking around his shoulders. Pleasure crackled around your whole body and there, in the dark with Desmond wordlessly working you, you weren't sure how much time you spent at the peak. Slowly, the sparks behind your eyes stopped flying. Your breath resumed its normal rhythm. Lifting your head off your sleeping bag, you made eye contact with his glowing red orbs, the only source of light under your tarp.

"How did I do?" He chittered, his grin smug enough for you to sense even in the darkness.

"You were fantastic." You indulged him, running your hand through his fuzz as he crawled over top of you. He pressed his forehead to yours.

"I didn't tire you out, did I?" He asked before descending upon you and kissing you lightly. With the gap between you two closed, you felt something tumescent and twitching under his shorts brush against you.

"I suppose I can stay up some more." You giggled as his fuzz tickled your collarbone. "I'll just sleep in."

"Glad to hear it." Desmond rasped. His voice grew ragged as he nipped at your neck, cradling your chin in one claw and using the other to undo his shorts. In the darkness, you could only feel something slick, smooth, and long come to rest on your belly. You squeezed your thighs around it. Desmond immediately chirred louder than before, sounding like a baritone version of the insects outside. His deep timbre resonated inside you.

"Excited?" You teased, his length completely at your mercy as you held it between your legs.

"I've forgotten how warm humans feel." He rumbled.

"Can I jog your memory?"

"Please."

You released him from your thighs and reached down with a hand. You felt the entirety of his length in your grasp; it was delightfully slick and uniform with pleasant little ridges to encounter as your hand traveled towards his base. You grasped it gently, eliciting more bassy chitters from him as you angled it towards your entrance. You fumbled a bit in the darkness, but after a few tries his tip rested at your threshold. His eyes met yours.

"Ready?" He clicked.

"Go ahead." You gripped his shoulders and pulled him close, nestling your face in his fluff as he started entering you. His hips slowly began to close the distance, each ridge on his length pushing a squeak out of you. His pace was deliciously slow. You had just enough time to adjust but not to catch your breath. All you could do was hold him tight in the darkness, nothing but the sensation and his chirring to occupy your mind. It felt like an eternity of slowly being filled by him. Eventually, cool chitin met your wet bundle of nerves, sending electric pleasure up your spine and forcing a gasp out of you.

"That's all of it." He grunted, his body completely flush with yours. "Do you feel alright?"

"Give me a moment." you said, exhaling sharply. The sensation of fullness with him hilted completely within you took your breath away. Little moans escaped you as his shaft quivered inside your depths. Embracing him, you found a steady breathing rhythm once more. "Okay, you can move."

With only chitters in response, he buried his head in the nape of your neck, his mandibles poking and prodding as he peppered you with kisses. His hardness withdrew just as slowly as when he entered you, then returned with a steady tempo. Each time his hips rocked you moaned into his fuzz. You imagined if you and Desmond had met at a different time or a different place, you'd be voicing your pleasures into a pillow. Since he had started his rhythmic thrusts, Desmond held a low, purring chirr that surged each time his pelvis met yours.

He chittered something specific, completely forgoing English as he picked up speed. He released your shoulders from his grasp. Changing position, he now kneeled upright with his knees on either side of your rear and his claws firmly gripping your thighs. The new leverage and angle made you squeal. He pumped in earnest now, both the speed and impact making you moan with nothing to stifle your voice.

"Desmond!" You cried, one hand splayed above your head and the other reaching down to hold your sensitive bead, "Keep going!" His pace remained constant. The low chirr grew into a growl. He pounded over and over, his hips slamming into your ass. As if it took considerable effort, he wrestled his chitters back into grunting speech you could understand.

"Close," he said sharply, "getting close!" You decided against speaking, instead locking your ankles behind him and rubbing your nub feverishly to meet him at the brink. His pace quickened even more. His claws squeezed your thighs as he desperately held onto you— into you, his thrusts remaining deeper inside you as they mounted in strength. His chirring returned, ascending in volume and pitch into a strangled, desperate call. His gaze snapped skyward and his back arched and he desperately pulled at your entire body in an effort to seat himself as deep within you as he could. You cried out in time with him. Your voice reached its limits. You rubbed yourself with abandon as you felt his cock fire within you with great trembling pulses. The pleasure within you mounted, growing until it erupted with a crackling warmth that left you quivering and crying out. He held himself as deep as he could go, grinding his hips into yours. Hissing, he lowered himself upon you once more and kissed you hard. You wailed into his mandibles as you rode out your peak. His hard chitin ground into your nub and held you at your limit before his rolling hips finally relented. Still, but remaining deep within you, he broke away from the kiss. You caught your breath as your eyes locked.

"Goodness..." You panted. Your face burned. Streaks of cool wetness rolled from your eyes down your cheeks. Desmond's chirring slowed into nothingness. The only sounds left were your breathing and nature outside.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his usual tone returning slowly.

"I'm great, Desmond," You smiled, "but you managed to tire me out this time." He clicked, then slowly withdrew his softening length from your sensitive core. You felt something ooze out of you, but were too exhausted to do anything about it.

"Sleep, please." He said, stroking your hair with a claw. "I'll be right here. Don't worry about anything else."

When morning arrived, the hole in the roof of your tarp acted as a skylight. You had awoken fortuitously just before the golden beam would have shone burning rays straight into your eyes. You definitely slept in, but found yourself fully clothed. You expected to feel something regretfully sticky and wet in your underwear, but you were completely clean. For a moment, you considered that last night might have been a dream. That line of thought was cut short by the sound of boiling water and the smell of coffee creeping into your tarp.

You emerged to find Desmond sitting in front of a small fire, emptying granules of instant coffee into a pot.

"Coffee?" He offered. "It'll be done in a bit."

"Thank you, Desmond." You sat in the same spot as you did last night over dinner. The silence that followed was comfortable and warm, unlike last night's awkward pauses. You watched him shake the pot with a claw as the sun warmed you. "I guess I should also thank you for, um, cleaning me up. I kinda passed out on you there. Sorry."

"No, no. It's fine. I'm nocturnal, remember?" He looked up at you and grinned. "It felt good to take care of a sleeping human again. It reminded me of old times." His grin softened into a gentle smile. The instant coffee had fully dissolved and he pulled the pot from the fire. He filled, then offered you an enamel mug which you accepted. The aroma was cheap and comforting.

"I'm going to miss you." You held the mug tightly. You didn't meet his eyes as you spoke, instead staring into the coffee as if it would tell you what to do.

"Me too." Desmond responded.

"Could we... could you..." You searched for the best way to ask. "Would you want to be with me?" Desmond released a slow chitter. He shook his head, and his soft smile shifted further into a shallow frown.

"I'm sorry." He said softly. "I wouldn't feel comfortable whisking you away three weeks after your breakup. Hell, I'm five months out from my own and I'm still not sure about where I am emotionally." You nodded in response. The coffee in your hands cooled in the resulting silence.

"I guess this is where we part ways, then." You sighed.

"Maybe..." He finally met your gaze. "You're hiking northbound. That means you'll finish in what, five more months?"

"Four if I hurry."

"The trail ends in Maine. There's this tiny, tiny town up there." He mused. "When you finish the trail, look for me around town. I'll be there. If you still want to be with me... then we could pursue a relationship like normal people. Coffee dates and stuff. If not... well, I'll buy you lunch."

"Is that another one of your movie references?" You chuckled. His plan sounded like something straight out of a cheesy rom-com.

"I'm serious." He explained. "My mom lives up there, and I've got nowhere else to be in four to five months."

"How am I supposed to find you?"

"I'm pretty sure the town population is in the double digits, and I'm definitely sure that me and my mom are the only mothpeople there." You considered his offer. It was all you had to look forward to, really.

"Let's shake on it." You extended a hand to him over the dying embers. He reached out to meet you, but then suddenly paused. "What's wrong?" You asked, a pang of fear striking you.

"I have one condition: when you inevitably run into my mom, our story has to be something other than, 'we met up on the trail and had sex after an embarrassingly short conversation and a camera flash,' okay?" You burst into laughter, as did he. He took your hand in his claw and shook enthusiastically.

"We have a deal." You answered. "Don't worry, I'll come up with something good."

"You better. You've got four-to-five months to craft it." He clicked. You smiled.

When you both finished your coffee, you gave him a hug and enjoyed the feeling of his neck fuzz on your cheek one last time. The fire had gone out, you packed up your tarp and sleeping bag, and you took a few steps north on the trail. You stopped soon after and turned, watching him go. He disappeared into the foliage. Sighing, you resumed your hike. To pass the time you talked to yourself.

"Ah, so nice to meet you, Mrs. Moth-mom. Yes, of course, we met at a pottery class."

No! Stupid.

"We were flying kites in the park, and ours got tangled up together—"

Now you sound like you're referencing sappy rom-coms.

You sighed. At least you'd have a while to come up with something convincing.

#monster x reader #lemon #male mothperson x female reader #mothman x reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster love #female reader

686 notes · View notes

avenging-fandoms · 3 years

Note

cevans + #37 (smut) and #2 (fluff) <33

2: Oh my god, did you just say that out loud? 37: She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but i bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips.

warning: use of sex toys, sub!evans

*words: 1804

tags:@operation-spot @thatoneperson5000

⇩

chris sat at the bar with his forth beer in hand, your hand on his thigh as you looked over to where he stared. he took a sip of his beer, smacking his teeth and shaking his head. “i don’t know, yn, should i try it?”

“try what, chris?” you smile and look at him, chris nodding in the direction of a girl who kept glancing at him. “try hitting on her?”

“yeah, why not? she seems nice” you shrug and finish your drink, chris biting his lip and finishing his beer, standing up and stumbling a bit. you chuckle and he looked back at you, and you looked away as you ordered a new drink. chris headed over to the girl and you slyly watched, rolling your eyes and drawing your eyes to your cup as you watched chris hand over his phone.

chris came back over and sat back down next to you, showing his screen. “wow, nice one” you said monotone, taking a sip of your drink. chris looked at you with a confused smile, putting his phone in his pocket. “seriously, congrats”

“what?” chris asked and you looked at him, shaking your head. “she’s nice, i like her. if you talked to her you’d think the same. but.. i think she’s got a secret side to her” he said softly and leaned in, his tipsy eyes catching yours. “at first, she was nice. very sweet girl. then she started to make these comments. she may seem like lollipops and rainbows.. but i bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips” he bit his lip and you smile, laughing in his face.

“oh my god, did you just say that out loud?” you laughed and he backed away. “chris, that girl is vanilla. she’s got no latex skill unless it’s a balloon”

“oh yeah, how would you know?” he pushed your shoulder and you side eyed him, tilting your head to the side and downing your drink. you grabbed chris’s shirt, pulling his face close to yours.

“we’re going to my place. i’ll let you crash on my couch” you smile, chris nodding slowly and following you like a lost puppy out the bar doors and to your car. he plopped himself in your passenger seat, looking over at you as you started the car, and he wondered what you had planned up your sleeve as you drove without once looking over at him.

you unlocked your front door and you and chris stepped inside, your cool ac house feeling so nice from the warm summer night. you looked back as chris and held out your hand, chris looking at your hand and then at you with a curious smirk playing on his lips. he slapped his hand into your palm, and you took him upstairs to your bedroom.

chris sat on the edge of your bed, watching as you opened your closet doors. you took a breath and spun on your heels, chuckling as you let out a breath. “i’ve only showed about 3 people what i’m about to show you. and if you don’t want to see it anymore, i understand”

“what, you’re not a serial killer, are you?” chris joked and you pulled out your cardboard box, setting it next to chris. his eyes followed the box, his fingers pulling it up and widening his eyes as he saw the contents. chris took out the tassel whip, running it over his fingers. “yn.. this is..” his sentenced trailed off and your stomach churned as you waited for his response. “this is so hot”

you smirk, picking up your head. “yeah? do you.. wanna try them out? you can say no”

“fuck yes” you smiled and stood in between his legs, kissing him slowly. the whip fell on the bed next to chris as his large hands cupped your ass. he pulled you forward and you pulled away, shaking your head. “you are mine, chris” you whisper, pulling his shirt up and picking up the whip. you run the leather tassel over his chest and on his back, smacking it onto his stomach softly. “get naked, chris. i want you laying on the bed” he nodded and stood up, pulling off his jeans and boxers. you smacked the whip against his thighs, smirking as you heard a whimper.

chris listened and laid against the pillows, and you moved the box to your desk. you grabbed the vibrator taking off your shoes. “safe word system is red, yellow and green. understand?” he nods and you hit his stomach with the tassels, chris jumping slightly. “words, pet”

“y-yes yn” you smile and turned on the vibrator, pressing it under his cock. chris gasped and trembled, closing his eyes and letting out a soft moan as the new pleasure. “yn, y-your mouth”

“my mouth, what about it? you want it on your cock, chris?” he nodded desperately, making you laugh in his face. “you have to work for that, pet. how are you feeling?”

“green” he moaned out, his cock twitching and his pre cum dripped down his shaft. you moved the vibrator down slowly, chris humming as the new wave of pleasure rushed through him, leaving a funny feeling at the pit of his stomach. “holy fuck” you wrapped your hand around chris’s cock and you pumped him slowly, the vibrator moving up and down at an awfully slow pace. “please.. please fuck me”

“you sound pathetic, chris. do you think that girl from the bar could make you tremble like this? having you begging like i do?” your mouth kissed along the bottom of his stomach, chris moving his hips up.

“no, o-only you, holy fuck” he trembled and you pulled the vibrator away, chris letting out a whine. he grabbed your hand and you looked at him, pulling it away and grabbing the handcuffs. you secure them behind his back and rolled him back over, sitting on his thighs after taking off your clothes.

your hands wrapped around his cock again, the pad of your index finger slowly rubbing around the tip. you smile and look at chris, his face flushed and lip trembling as he needed you. you grabbed the vibrator again, pressing it to your clit and shivering.

“please, yn. can i at least taste you?” he asked quietly and you let out a small chuckle, leaving the vibrator against his cock as you straddled his face. “thank you” he moaned before flicking his tongue against your clit. you let out a sigh, running your fingers through his already messy hair as you moved your hips. chris moaned against you, making you shiver.

chris's hands gripped the seats underneath him as he drank in every ounce of you. his tongue left no place untouched, and he whimpered as you gripped his hair. you pulled away and sat back on his thighs, his beard glistening with your juices.

"how bad do you want me, chris? how bad do you want your cock buried in me?" you smirk and he bit his lip softly, watching as you rubbed up and down his chest and stomach slowly.

"so bad, yn, please, i want you so bad. i want to fuck you so fucking bad, yn, please"

"spit" you held your hand to his mouth and he did, watching you closely as you stroked his cock. you held it as you sank down slowly, pulling your hips up and teasing his tip. chris uttered 'please' over and over and moaned as you sat down all the way. "fucking shit, chris" you whispered and pressed your hand against his chest, the other holding a vibrator against your clit, chris feeling it as well.

you moved your hips slowly, you and chris moaning as the pleasure washes over the both of you. you leaned forward and kissed chris slowly, chris thrusting his hips into you. you gasp softly as his thrusts hit your g-spot, holding his chin and biting his lip.

"you like my cock, yn?" he grunted and you nod, chris's tongue tickling the roof of your mouth as you opened it to moan. your hand moved to his throat, digging your nails slightly into his skin.

"you're the one handcuffed here, i don't know why you're talking to me like that" he tugged on the handcuffs and you smirked, pulling him out of you. you helped chris sit up and he knelt on the bed, and you bent over in front of him. you guided his cock into you again and you turned off the vibrator, throwing it on the rug. "be a good boy and fuck me hard, chris"

"could you take off the handcuffs? i promise i'll make you cum so hard you see stars" chris panted and you smiled, unlocking the cuffs and chris threw them to the side, gripping your hips and pounding his hips into yours.

the bed rocked against the wall you were sure the headboard was putting holes in the wall. your nails scraped up chris's thigh, chris flipping you over onto your back and throwing your legs over his shoulders.

"yes chris, fuck, right there, holy shit. such a good listener" he smiled and kissed you sloppily, the both of you moaning into each other's mouths. his fingers rubbed your clit fast, your eyes rolling as wave of pleasure rushed through your stomach. "make me cum, chris, make me cum all over your cock" you mumbled into his mouth, chris nodding and picking up the pace of his hips, repeatedly hitting you g-spot. "fuck" your back arched and you pressed your chest against his, trembling as you came around him, chris not stopping as he brought himself to an orgasm.

chris pulled out and you stroked his cock, chris whimpering and letting out a moan as his cum painted your stomach and breasts. you both sigh contently, chris kissed you and grabbed some tissues from the box on your nightstand, wiping you clean and throwing it away.

you and chris laid down against the pillows, chris grunting. he pulled the tassel whip out from under his butt, making the both of you laugh. chris threw it into the box and looked at you, brushing his thumb against your jaw. "so.. are we still friends?" you ask quietly and he laughs, nodding.

"more like friends with benefits, yn. where did you learn all of this shit?" he asked and you shrugged, scooting closer next to him. "well.. i would definitely like to learn more"

"maybe you can call that girl from the bar" you tease and he held your throat, making you look at him.

"i don't think she can make me feel as good like you just did, yln" you smirk and kiss him hungrily, chris pulling you on top of him again as your tongues pressed together, giggling into each other's mouths.

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mickey-henry · 3 years

Note

another headcanon: what you think going on a first dats would be like? where he'd take you, if he'd be nervous, etc? 🤗

I want to go on this date so bad🥺

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐣𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

this man would be so adorable on a first date

it took him forever to muster up the courage to ask you out

he's frequented your place of work to catch a glimpse of you

you immediately say yes when he asks you

if he's honest with himself, he's surprised you agreed

he asks if he can pick you up the following evening. you say yes, give him your address, and pray he isn't a serial killer once he leaves (okay, well, technically, he's a reformed serial killer)

he's at your door with beautiful, fresh flowers—a bouquet featuring all your favorite colors and flowers. you can tell these came from a mom and pop shop and not the grocery store (you love a man who supports small businesses)

after you put the flowers in water, you ask, "so, what are we doing tonight? I hope I've dressed appropriately for our date."

he almost slaps himself for forgetting to compliment you. he was so focused on saying "these are for you" and not shoving the flowers in your face that he didn't even look to see what you're wearing

you're in a cute sundress that hugs your body in all the right places, a denim jacket drapes on your arm, and white slip-on shoes don your feet

"you look amazing, dove."

you smile and blush at both the compliment and the pet name

"there's a carnival in town. I think it would be fun, only if you want to though, if not, we could always do something else?" he rambles, running his hand through his shoulder-length hair.

"bucky, the carnival sounds like a blast! I'd love to go there with you," you assure him with a smile.

he opens and closes the passenger door for you—as a true gentleman does

once you arrive at the carnival, you're immediately drawn to an adorable winter soldier teddy bear hanging beside a balloon dart game

"you know, that poor guy gets a lot of hate. he gets brainwashed for decades, and people dare to say he didn't deserve his pardon? what a bunch of a-holes."

bucky is stunned silent.

bucky's always wearing gloves and long sleeves in your presence—he hasn't mentioned his past alter ego. he had no clue how he would bring any of this up to you. yet, here you are, discussing it on your own.

he mutters under his breath, almost inaudibly, "you really mean that?"

"of course I do! he didn't ask to be brainwashed. he's a victim, not the villain people make him out to be. I'd give the guy a hug if I could. but back to that bear, I think I need it in my life?"

"I can win it for you, dove."

"bucky, these games are rigged. you'll waste so much money. you don't have to, truly."

"I'll win it, trust me."

turns out bucky could've been in the NBA if he tried; he makes every basket and excitedly presents you with your winter soldier teddy bear

"I LOVE IT! thank you, bucky. I'll treasure it forever!"

his heart swells out of his chest at your proclamation. a smile trickles across his cheeks as you hug the bear and kiss its forehead

"I'm going to name it bucky bear!"

he almost kisses you right then and there. but, he has a more romantic first kiss idea in mind.

you're now at the top of the ferris wheel, watching fireworks off in the distance

"this is such a pretty view!"

"the view is quite pretty," he agrees, looking at you instead of the fireworks, of course.

you turn towards him; your faces are mere inches away from each other

you think he's just about to kiss you when he sighs, "there's something I need to tell you."

cocking your head and raising your eyebrow, you invite him to continue

"you know the winter soldier?"

"yeah?"

"that's me. well, it was me. sorry to bring this up where you can't run away without falling to your demise. I felt like I had to say it now, or I never would—"

"bucky, I knew that already."

"what? you knew?"

"yes, I knew the whole time! bucky, it's like 70 degrees out here, and you're wearing a leather jacket and gloves. it's kinda obvious. also, your face has been plastered all over the news? no one would forget a handsome face like yours."

“you think i’m handsome?”

“really? that’s all you got from that? well obviously I do, have you ever looked in a mirror? have you seen your face lately? you’re gorgeous!”

he grins so wide at your compliments and fit of giggles that follow your comment

after your chuckles diminish, you grab his left hand with a somber look on your face

“there’s something about you, I don’t know what it is, but I feel safe with you? and besides, how could I be afraid of being with a man who wins me a stuffed animal?”

“this guy sounds like a catch.”

“he definitely is. I’m hoping he’ll kiss me soon, I’ve been eagerly waiting all night.”

“oh, really? then he’s going to have to do something about that, won’t he? he can’t leave a pretty girl like you hanging.”

you can’t wait any longer. you place your hand gently on the back of his neck and press your lips into his. he freezes at first, but quickly returns the delicate kiss. literal and figurative fireworks explode around you as you melt into each other.

you hadn’t quite known what to expect on your first date with james bucky barnes, but when the night ends, and you’re left with a swooning heart from the small, lithe smile he offers as he takes you home—the promise of something more begins to blossom.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes headcanons #marvel headcanons #golden-bucky #cassie🌟#mickey henry's headcanons

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sanzoumon · 3 years

Text

70 RICKORTY PROMPTS pt 3!

Here we go again! Same things apply, warnings at the start of the prompts. Everything is bottom!Morty unless otherwise stated. Also some prompts are gen.

70, guys. 70! And here I thought I was out of ideas. Anyway you can tell the moments when I was super horny while coming up with ideas. Some of these prompts get detailed and long but as always feel free to play around with the ideas.

Also with some of these I had no idea where I was going with them so pfft.

MPreg. Post-Promortyus. Those parasites reflected their own feelings. Morty asks Rick about it, what they did and said. Long story short, after some pressing, Rick admits everything that parasite said was true, he loves Morty and wants to have a baby with him. Morty finds the idea appealing, to be honest. He thinks about being pregnant with Rick’s baby and loves it.

Angst. As they get older Rick starts becoming forgetful and develops dementia. Morty is with him through it all and Rick can feel his own brilliant mind fading away, it scares him. They still have sex but as time goes on Rick gets less and less lucid. Eventually Rick dies in his sleep one night.

Non-con. Thriller. On the Citadel. There’s a serial rapist and killer loose on the Citadel. He targets Morty’s. The Morty’s disappear for 3 days and turn up dead on the forth. The police know the culprit is a Rick, given the DNA left behind, but DNA doesn’t vary much between dimensions so it doesn’t help much. They call in a specialist, a Rick who understands people and specializes in Profiling. The culprit redressed the bodies, showing them reverence, he loves these Morty’s. Things become complicated when Profiler Rick’s Morty gets abducted. ((Criminal Minds inspired))

Hebephilia. This Rick is a straight up Hebephile and has tried to reject that part of him his whole life. Morty happens to be right in his strike zone. He even left his own Beth when she was 13, fearing he might go after her. He thought these urges would mellow out in his old age but being around Morty is a challenge. And now Morty is confessing he’s in love with Rick and that he’s attracted to older people. After resisting his whole life Rick finally gives in and feels like a piece of shit for it.

Prison. Dub-con. Rick and Morty get arrested and everyone wants Morty’s ass to make him his bitch. Rick isn’t about to let that happen, fighting off anyone who tries to lay a hand on Morty. But every time Rick leaves him alone someone tries something. So Rick does the only thing he can, after beating Morty’s assailant to a pulp, he takes Morty in front of other prisoners to show who he belongs to. Morty is freaked out but damn Rick is giving him pleasure he never knew existed. Everyone backs off Morty but he wants Rick to fuck him again and again.

Omegaverse. Everyone knew that Alpha’s were supposed to care for their Omega in exchange for the Omega’s submission. Rick doesn’t do the whole caring thing but due to the proximity they have Morty recognizes Rick as his Alpha and he wants to be cared for. Eventually Morty breaks down. This triggers Rick’s Alpha nature and he gives Morty all the affection he’s been craving. Rick fucks him slowly, gently, in a comforting way, to help calm him. Tells him how good he is, etc. Finally he knots Morty and Morty feels like he’s whole again.

Angst. Rick and Morty are goofing around, just having a good time. They end up with their faces close together and Rick kisses Morty. Morty doesn’t react well. Will he come around?

Morty is desperate to be with Rick. He just wants Rick to stay with him and he’ll let Rick do anything to him. Abuse him. Fuck him. Anything.

Anything based on the song “Pretty When You Cry” by VAST.

Morty has a kink for seeing Rick cry.

Morty likes the feel of Rick’s wrinkly and saggy skin. Sometimes he just messes with it because it feels nice.

Age Problems. For all his sexual prowess, Rick is still an old man and sometimes it’s hard for him to get it up. And it’s really humiliating and frustrating because he is horny and his dick just isn’t reacting. Morty doesn’t mind that much, it happens. Besides, Rick is still damn good with his hands.

Electro Play. Rick hooks up Morty to all sorts of sex toys. They all send electric shocks to his dick and asshole. Rick also uses a wand to shock Morty on his thighs. He also won’t let Morty cum. Eventually he fucks Morty while still shocking his dick.

Rick sends Morty to school with a vibrator in his ass. Throughout the day he turns the device on to make Morty squirm. By the time lunch period comes, Morty can’t stand it anymore. He finds Rick waiting in a bathroom stall, dick hard and waiting for Morty, looking smug. Morty practically jumps on Rick’s lap and Rick takes the vibrator out. Morty rides him and moans so loud it’s a wonder the whole school doesn’t hear.

Public Sex. They have a very specific kink for fucking in portable toilets, like you see in construction sites or during fairs. It’s so unsanitary and smells disgusting and anyone could hear them but that’s what makes it hot.

Feminization Kink. Morty has a kink for beating treated like a woman. Not crossdressing tho. He likes it when Rick calls him a bitch, his wife, princess, his ‘pretty little girl’, calling his asshole a pussy or other such things, calling his dick a clit, talking about knocking him up. Things like that. Morty likes holding his legs open, begging Rick to fuck his pussy.

Morty is a straight up slutty little cock whore for Rick’s cock. Loves riding it. Loves being plowed by it. If Morty has it his way he’d just live life with Rick’s cock in his ass.

Exhibitionism. Degradation. Rick takes Morty to a special club where public sex happens on a stage. Surrounded by a bunch of Rick’s they all hoot and holler, calling him a slut, a whore, offering his Rick money so they can fuck him, etc. Morty never cums so hard in his life.

On the Citadel. A Rick books a private lapdance with a Morty at the Creepy Morty. Like most strip clubs there’s a “look, don’t touch” rule. But for a bit of extra cash many of them will let you do more than just look. And Rick is so desperate for the sexy little Morty gyrating on his lap.

Mind Break. Rick fucks Morty hard and rough for so long that Morty can’t live without being fucked by Rick anymore. He just wants Rick to take care of him, feed him, bathe him, then fuck him like a cheap whore. Being a living sex doll for Rick is the best thing that ever happened to him.

Miami Rick x Miami Morty. Sometimes Rick’s enemies put their hands on Morty. Morty almost pities them. Almost. Rick practically runs the underworld in Miami and everyone knows Morty belongs to him. Sometimes Rick needs to remind everyone that he’s an amoral old bastard who fucks his grandson so good that the kid begs for it.

Miami Rick x Miami Morty. Branding. Morty isn’t blind, he knows his grandfather is a criminal and knows people will target him to get to Rick. Morty also notices that Rick brands the shit that belongs to him and that no one touches it. Morty asks Rick to brand him so he’ll be safe, that people will know they’ll have to cross Rick Sanchez if they touch him. After getting the brand his ass hurts so much but he’s so turned on by the knowledge that Rick owns him now. He begs Rick to fuck him. And who is Rick to deny his cute grandson?

Set during Close Rickounters. They’re filthy, tired, and stranded. Rick is aggravated with Zeep, who keeps riling Rick up. Being in close proximity to each other for months makes it awkward sometimes. Like when Morty gets turned on seeing Rick in just his tank top, violently attempting to craft something like a mad man. He looks absolutely feral and Morty can’t help but moan at the thought of Rick fucking him like that. Rick notices, of course, and he’s in such a frenzied state that he doesn’t think twice about using Morty as an outlet for his frustration. He fucks him raw, with little prep, scratches, bites, pulls his hair, spanks him, slaps his face, taunts him, even spits on him, utterly degrading Morty and treating him like a sex toy. And Rick looks, smells, and feels so gross and dirty that it drives Morty insane. He can’t believe it’s happening, that Rick didn’t even care to ask Morty if he wanted this or not (Morty does want it tho). To just be taken and used as a stress outlet? It’s the best.

ABO Kink. They’re not from an ABO dimension but they both sure as hell find it hot. Basically they’re normal but know of ABO dimensions so Rick roleplays as an Alpha and Morty an Omega.

Rick x Morticia. Breast Play. Morti has surprisingly large breasts under her baggy t-shirt. Something happens to their clothes on an adventure and Rick gets an eye full of what Morti’s been hiding. She’s ashamed and embarrassed by them. Rick doesn’t see why, she’s beautiful. Morti stares at him and he realizes he said that out loud. Morti moves her arms from her chest and, very shyly, shows Rick everything. Rick realizes this is an invitation to touch and he takes it. He has her moaning like a whore in seconds. The next morning Morti comes down stairs wearing a v-neck top, showing off a little cleavage. The family is surprised because Morti was always so ashamed before. Morti just says she got a little confidence recently and gives Rick a knowing look. Rick decides he’s definitely going to fuck her boobs later today.

Rick x Morticia. Pregnancy Kink. Rick wants to get his 14 year old granddaughter pregnant. Wants to see her waddle around, have her breasts swell up, and wants to see her walk around knowing that’s his child in her belly. He wants to keep her knocked up all the time, keep her locked up at home, barefoot and pregnant, taking care of all their kids. Putting in another baby as soon as the current one pops out. He wants to make her his little breeding slave. He wouldn’t, of course, one kid is already too much for them but it’s still hot to think about.

Cheating. Cuckolding. Morty goes out of his way to fuck other guys just to make Rick jealous. Rick comes home to find some guy plowing him and Rick goes ballistic. He never hurts the other guys, just violently tosses them out. Then he holds Morty down and fucks him to remind him that he belongs to Rick. And that’s what Morty is really after. He wants Rick to be possessive, to fear losing him. NOTE: This isn’t a cuckolding kink, Rick isn’t into being cucked.

Rick x Morty + Summer. Morty wants Summer to watch Rick fuck him and to make humiliating / degrading comments about him during it. She’s getting paid for it but she’d be lying if she said her panties didn’t get soaked during it. Seeing her baby brother get plowed by a huge cock belonging to their grandfather was pretty hot, especially when Morty started moaning like a slut. She starts grinding into the chair she’s sitting on and cums from it. Morty doesn’t notice but Rick does, even tho he didn’t say anything.

Gun Play. It’s an Earth gun, pretty archaic by Rick’s standards. But Morty wants him to fuck him at gun point with a loaded standard 9mm. Even gives the gun a blowjob. Morty’s such a little freak.

Casual Possessiveness. When they go out, adventure or not, Rick puts his hand on the back of Morty’s neck. A hand on his waist. Hand on his shoulder, pressed against Rick’s side. Morty loves the feeling of protection and Rick loves protecting his little Morty.

Slow dancing. Rick and Morty are at a party, dancing and having a good time, then the music slows down and people couple up. Morty laughs it off and turns to leave, but Rick offers his hand to him instead - an offer to keep dancing. Rick ends up being a pretty good dancer and Morty finds himself mesmerized by Rick in this moment.

Hurt/Comfort. Spooning. Rick has a nightmare and wanders into Morty’s room. He lays down next to him, with his back facing Morty. Morty notices and hears faint crying coming from Rick. Morty pulls Rick into a hug, snuggling against his back. They stay like that for a little while until Rick calms down. Rick gets up to leave but Morty asks him to stay. This time Rick lays down facing Morty and they just sorta hold each other.

In Mortyberg. Most of the Morty’s there are Rickless but a few still have them. As C-137 Rick and Morty watch the few Rick’s left find their Morty’s, clinging desperatly to them, happy to be reunited - they see one pair kiss passionately. The couple gets odd stares. The Rick picks up his Morty and the kiss even deeper. C-137 Rick and Morty feel awkward about watching it and notice a few other Rick’s and Morty’s are giving them sneers. But Morty thinks they seem happy together, he’s a little jealous. He grabs Rick’s hand and just holds it, smiling up at him.

In this dimension, Rick has been around Morty’s whole life. They’re very close to each other. As a small child Morty always wanted his grandpa to pick him up and hold him. Morty’s 14 now and that really hasn’t changed.

Rick goes full on Grandpapa Wolf when Morty is in danger. He cries out “NO! MY BABY!” when Morty gets hurt.

On the Citadel. A story about Citadel cops who respond to Domestic Violence calls. Most times it’s Rick’s abusing Morty’s, sometimes Rick’s abusing Rick’s, Morty’s abusing Morty’s, and on rare occasions it’s Morty’s abusing Rick’s.

Mental Age Regression. Past Child Abuse. Rick suffers a blow to the head and passes out. When he wakes up he doesn’t remember anything from after he was 10 years old. It’s weird for all of them and Morty falls into the roll of primary caretaker. Rick gets into a bit of trouble when he accidentally breaks something of Morty’s. Morty yells at him and only stops when Rick is cowering on the floor, begging Morty not to hit him, then Rick starts mumbling “I’m sorry daddy please don’t hit me I didn’t mean it”. Morty gets down next to him and holds him, apologizing.

Past Non-con. Past Child Abuse. Still having Rick’s memories on hand, Morty decides to watch more. He sees all the pain Rick has gone through, his father raping and abusing him, his mother knowing and ignoring it, bullying in school, countless instances of Rick being sexually assaulted throughout his whole life. Even some up until right before he came to live with the Smith family. He sees a memory he can’t recall where Rick took Morty’s place when some aliens intended to rape him (Rick must have erased it from Morty’s memories). Morty comes too and sees Rick ripped the device away. Morty was crying and the tears wouldn’t stop. It’s Rick who comforts him, holding him, telling him it was all in the past and that it’s okay now.

Non-Con. Time Travel. Morty travels back in time to when Rick was his age. They bond pretty quickly, spending all day together. At the end of the day Morty realizes he has nowhere to go so Rick invites him to stay the night. In middle of the night, Morty finds Rick isn’t in bed and goes looking for him. What he finds is noises coming from behind a cracked door. He peeks inside and sees Rick and Rick’s father, Rick is crying and his father is plowing into him. Morty makes a noise and next thing he knows he’s dragged into the room too. Rick begs his dad to leave Morty alone. Instead, Rick’s dad tells Morty to sit there and see what Rick is really like, then decide if he wants a friend like him afterward. He shoves Rick on top of Morty and starts fucking him again, Rick is crying, apologizing. Rick starts to unravel, begging for more. Rick’s father leaves the room once he’s done. Morty cleans Rick up and takes him back to bed. Rick begs Morty not to leave so Morty stays in bed with him, just holding him, and Rick kisses him on the mouth before going to sleep. In the morning he gets woken up by his Rick. Morty wants to wake up young Rick but Rick stops him, shaking his head ‘no’. So they leave. Before Morty can ask Rick tells him that when he woke up that morning he cried like a bitch when he saw Morty was gone. He tells Morty everything about his father, that it never stopped until his father died. That even today that man still haunts his nightmares. This time Morty kisses Rick, letting Rick hold onto him like a lifeline. Rick apologizes that Morty has to see all that but it was always going to happen.

Spanking. On the Citadel. It’s not uncommon to see Rick’s punishing their Morty’s by spanking them in public. Guard Rick’s punishing Guard Morty’s. Teacher Rick’s punishing Student Morty’s. Rick’s just going about the Citadel, their Morty’s being little brats, stopping to bend them over and whip their behinds. Some Rick’s pay good money to spank Morty’s. Some Morty’s pay good money to get spanked by Rick’s.

Rick falls in love with Morty the very first moment he sees him, when Morty was a newborn. Throughout the years and their adventures, those feelings changed into something more romantic and sexual. It makes Rick feel sick. He doesn’t want to hurt his precious grandson but he keeps pushing the envelope with the boy to get more of his love and affection. He even asked Morty to kiss him! On the lips! He hates himself more when Morty kisses him on the lips.

Pet Names. Getting Caught. Rick has a lot of pet names for Morty: babe, baby, honey, sweetie, sweetheart, affection insults (bitch, lil shit, etc.). But Morty’s favorite is when Rick calls him “my love”. It rarely happens because it’s not one of those pet names you could mistake for familial at all. Sadly Rick uses it during dinner with the family one night without thinking about it. Everyone did a double take and then the interrogations started.

In a dimension where Rick isn’t a scientist, he’s a criminal. Thief, murderer, arsonist, a lot of bad shit. 4 years ago kidnapping got added to his list of crimes. He tracked down only daughter and abducted his 10 year old grandson, Morty, wounding his pre-teen granddaughter (who was babysitting) at the time. They haven’t been seen or heard from since... until today. A high speed chase, a shootout, Rick being shot, bleeding out, Morty crying, rushing to him, holding him, trying to stop the bleeding, kissing Rick, telling him he’ll love him forever, Rick dying. It was all televised on the news. Beth gets her son back but does she really? Just what exactly did Rick do to the boy in 4 years?

Vore. Microphilia. Morty gets shrunk down, clothes not included. Rick messes with him by putting him in his mouth. Then he tastes something weird in there and feels something strange. Morty is grinding against Rick’s tongue and came from it. Rick’s into it.

Paternal Instincts. Caretaking. Morty wets himself during an adventure. Once they get safely home he collapses and starts bawling like a baby, his pants still wet. At first Rick tells him to stop being a pussy but that makes Morty cry harder. It triggers something in Rick and suddenly his long buried paternal instincts gutpunch him. He scoops Morty up, holds him against his chest and says “now, now, grandpa’s here, baby” and tells Morty he’ll take care of him. He takes Morty to the bathroom, undresses him, and wipes him down with a warm washcloth. He then helps Morty into his pajamas and picks him up again, asking if he felt any better and if he wants to take a nap with grandpa. Morty feels like he can’t speak so he just nods yes to both.

Taking it Slow. Making Love. Rick is really DTF-y (Down To Fuck) pretty much all the time. When he and Morty start their relationship tho, Rick tells him he’s not ready to have sex yet. Morty thinks it’s just Rick having hang ups over the whole grandson thing but no, Rick doesn’t care about that. His age then? Morty starts thinking Rick just isn’t attracted to him so Rick finally tells him he’s plenty attracted. He just wants to take it slow, not because of Morty but for himself. Morty finds out that Rick was the same with Diane, even when she was DTF. Morty thinks it’s kinda sweet so he stops pestering Rick. They date, cuddle, make out, sometimes do hand stuff. After about 6 months of dating, Rick takes him to a fancy dinner then a hotel, telling Morty he’s ready. Then he makes sweet tender love to Morty and Morty finally gets what people mean when they say “good things come to those who wait”.

Necrophilia. Character Death. Angst. Morty dies because of Rick. Rick doesn’t take it well at all. He digs up Morty’s body in the dead of night, tries to go full Viktor Frankenstein and bring him back. But nothing works. He knows it’s just an empty shell, but he can’t stop himself from caressing his body, kissing his lips, undressing him, and thrusting into him. It’s cold, there’s not an ounce of warmth left in Morty’s tiny little body. He keeps the body longer than he should after that. It’s not long before he’s found out.

Past Non-Con. Public Restroom Sex. Healing Sex. After the Mr Jellybean incident, Morty is terrified of public restrooms. Rick makes it better by giving Morty a good time in a restroom, reassuring Morty that he can put a stop to this any time. Not that Morty wants to stop. Rick comforts and praises him the whole time.

Guard Rick x Morty. The Morty of a Guard Rick loves the way Rick looks in his uniform.

Pony Rick x Pony Morty. The good thing about Equestria was that they didn’t think twice about PDA. A stallion nuzzling his grandcolt wasn’t that odd. Behind closed doors he was nailing his grandcolt’s plot pretty much every night. Rick thinks he should be careful, at this rate Morty’s cutie mark will end up being a picture of Rick’s cock.

Primitivism. In a dimension where modern tech doesn’t exist, there’s various tribes that exist. Morty’s mother Beth leads their tribe after her father stepped down. When Morty’s 14th birthday arrives, the battle for his hand in marriage begins. Being the second child (with Summer being Beth’s heir) that means Morty will leave and marry into the tribe of the victor. It’s an open contest, anyone can enter. No one ever expected Rick to enter and dominate the competition. Beth has no choice but to declare him the winner. As per tradition they must now consummate their union. Morty is afraid, but Rick makes it good for him. Afterward Morty asks why Rick did it. Rick tells him it’s because Morty always belong to him, he just made it official.

Non-con. On the Citadel. There’s a serial rapist going around targeting Rickless Morty’s. Detective Rick is determined to catch the Rick responsible, his Morty was a victim of the rapist and killed himself over it. Problem is the culprit looks like a plain normal Rick. One Morty was different from the rest, most skittered away to avoid Rick’s and the Cop Morty’s has to tend to them. This Morty however clung to Rick like a lifeline. Rick’s gut told him this Morty knew more than he was letting on.

After the events of S5, Rick decides it’s time to make a change. He’s tired, old, he wants to settle down. To do that he needs to sober up. No more alcohol, no more drugs. It isn’t easy going cold turkey, it’s painful, he’s going through all sorts of widthdrawl. But sweet little Morty is there to help him through all of it, cleaning up his vomit, keeping his temperature down, keeping Rick away from anything that would help him get any sort of fix, soothing him, even feeding Rick when he’s too exhausted to feed himself. It hurts, but Morty is worth it.

In this dimension Rick isn’t the smartest man alive. He’s just a loving father and grandfather who moved in with his daughter to be closer to his grandchildren. Morty loves his grandpa so much and they spend so much time together. Ever since Morty was a child he liked to sit on grandpas lap and cuddle up to him. This hasn’t changed now that he’s a teenager. Behind closed doors the two are much closer than anyone would ever suspect.

Set during that whole ride scene during The Vindicators. Rick’s drunken video confession ends up being a love confession and marriage proposal to Morty. Morty evaluates his feelings for Rick on the ride back. When Rick asks him what happened, Morty just smiles and says “yes”. He knows Rick doesn’t remember but he’s the smartest man in the universe, he’ll figure it out... eventually. BONUS: Million Ants comments that he senses a great deal of love and affection all of a sudden.

Summer POV. She sees the way they act, how they look at each other. How devoted they are to one another. They’re hopelessly in love and neither wants to admit it for the obvious reasons. In this infinitely cruel multiverse she doesn’t understand their hangups and why they’d deny themselves this shred of happiness. She wants them both to be happy, she really does. The day it finally happens she’s happy enough to cry.

Beth finds out about Rick and Morty. Instead of lashing out over the wrongness of it she turns on Morty, accusing him of stealing her dad away, calling him a slut, asking what was so special about him. Rick is stunned. Summer and Jerry run to them, Summer instantly getting between Morty and their mother, holding him close while he sobs into her chest. Jerry tried to pacify Beth, leading her away. Of all things Rick never expected Beth to accuse her own child of being to blame here. He was the adult, she should be angry with him. He leaves Morty with Summer, he needs to have a serious discussion with Beth about everything. NOTE: Beth is infatuated with Rick and is jealous of Morty. Rick has no such feelings for Beth and is in love with Morty.

In this dimension, Morty’s parents and sister died when he was six. Jerry’s parents had already passed so Morty has no one left to be his guardian except Rick. So Rick moves into the Smith household so he won’t have the uproot Morty’s life. Their relationship dynamic turns out quite different from other Rick’s and Morty’s because of it. For example, Rick is haggling over a deal in space, he’s being mean and aggressive about it. Then Morty wanders in just when Rick is about to get violent. Rick here’s Morty say “grandpa?” in a sweet little voice, not understanding what’s going on. Rick’s attitude does a 180, going into doting grandpa mode, saying “hi, sweetie, grandpa and his friend are almost done talking so go wait in the car, sweetheart”. As soon as Morty’s gone he reverts back to being violent. Basically, Rick only shows his doting grandpa side in front of Morty, he doesn’t want Morty to see his hyper aggressive side.

Evil Rick x Evil Morty. Possessive Protectivness. Morty hates Rick, but there was one good thing about him. Come hell or highwater, Rick wouldn’t let others hurt Morty. It becomes easy for Morty to manipulate Rick into getting rid of problems this way. All Morty has to do is tell him someone tried to hurt him and Rick will kill them no questions asked.

Past Non-Con & Child Abuse. During the S5 finale, Morty asks Evil Morty just what the hell his Rick did to him to make him hate Rick’s so much. Evil Morty lashes out, tells Morty he won’t just tell him - no, if he loves Rick so much then he needs to experience the pain himself. EM jabs Morty with another memory device and Morty doesn’t just see the memories, he experiences them, feels them. All the rape, abuse, death, torture, the fear. He vomits when he comes back to reality. His Rick looks concerned, but Morty is shaking like a leaf staring at him. Morty can’t see his Rick without seeing Evil Rick. Evil Morty asks him if he understands now why he hates all Rick’s. What happens next?

Big Bad Wolf Rick x Little Red Riding Hood Morty. Dub-con. Morty’s mother tells him to go deliver some food to his Grandpa Rick’s workshop, but not to stray from the path because ‘Wolves’ (which is code for ‘those creepy pedos who hang out in the woods and need to bang kids to return to human’) will get him. Along the way a Wolf tries to lure him off the trail. Morty doesn’t fall for it. Eventually he reaches his Grandpa’s workshop. Something is off about his Grandpa’s voice. And ears. And teeth. And eyes. Also all that body hair. Yeah, Morty can see where this is going. The Wolf reveals that he’s actually Morty’s Grandpa Rick, throws him on the bed, telling Morty he’s going to ‘eat’ him. Okay Morty didn’t expect him to actually be his Grandpa so he’s nervous now. But wait, if Rick fucks him then he’ll go back to normal, right? He can do that for his beloved Grandpa, he has to.

Pet Names. Morty calls Rick by pet names too. What really gets Rick going is when Morty calls him “stud”.

Bottom!Rick. When Rick gets really emotional while drunk, he wants to bottom. He wants to be loved, filled, comforted, praised. He cries throughout the whole thing, but Morty knows it’s just because he’s feeling vulnerable. Morty likes to take care of Rick when he’s like this.

Bottom!Rick. It’s their first time and Morty is a nervous wreck. Rick takes the lead in a different way, riding Morty cowgirl style. To be honest, Morty is pretty small and Rick is pretty loose down there so it’s physically not as great as Rick would like but it feels nice and Morty sure as hell enjoyed it. Didn’t exactly last very long.

Orgasm Control Training. Morty can’t control his damn dick so Rick decides to train him to hold back his orgasms. Cock cages, chastity belts, cock rings, nothing seems effective so he trains Morty’s body to need prostate orgasms instead. Which is to say now Morty can’t cum without having his prostate stimulated and he can’t do that without Rick’s fingers or his dick. He knows. He’s tried toys and they can’t get the job done.

Prostate Orgasm. Rick’s robot arm has a vibrate function. He loves unraveling Morty by hitting his prostate with his fingers and turning on the vibration. He can tease Morty for hours this way, denying him release when he’s so close. He never lets Morty touch his dick anymore. If Morty wants to get off he needs to beg Rick to abuse his prostate.

Size Difference Kink. Stomach Buldge. Rick is like 6’4-6” tall while Morty is only like 5’2”. Their dicks have the same proportionate size difference. Rick’s is huge while Morty’s is smaller than average. When Rick fucks him you can actually see the buldge of Rick’s cock in Morty’s guts. Rick loves how tiny and hot Morty is, loves his tiny little dick, his tight ass, his little mouth. He hopes Morty doesn’t grow much more because he doesn’t wanna lose his cute little Morty.

Hand Holding. Rick’s taken up the habit of holding Morty’s hand like he’s a child everywhere they go.

Rick contemplated moving into a younger body to spend more years with Morty. When he brings this up Morty isn’t keen on the idea. Turns out Morty isn’t really attracted to Rick’s younger selves, he fell in love with Rick as an old man and that’s just how he likes him. Sure if it’ll help Rick stick around longer he gets it but does he have to go too much younger? Like Morty could be okay with a 50 or 60 year old Rick. Rick decides to stick with his current body for a while longer.

Yandere Rick. Non-con. Captivity. Traditional Wife Kink. Rick won’t allow anyone to even lay eyes on his precious Morty. He takes him off world, on an isolated planet, keeps him locked up in a cozy little home just for the two of them. Rick gave up on most of his adventures, only leaving for short periods of time. Morty is expected to keep the house clean, make dinner, do all the chores, and most importantly take care of his husbands sexual needs. Morty is terrified but, so long as he doesn’t fuck up any of his wifely duties, Rick is gentle with him. If he burns dinner, forgets his chores, anything — Rick punishes him, he sees it as Morty not wanting to be with him. It doesn’t make any sense to Morty and he knows this is going to be his life until Rick dies. What Morty truly hates is that he looks forward to Rick fucking him each night. In those moments he’s able to lay back and let Rick do all the work, Rick wants him to feel good during it after all. It’s also the only time Morty gets leeway on his chores because Rick gets cuddly after sex. When Morty gets sick he tells him he won’t have to do any work today too. Morty doesn’t want this at all but he finds these peaceful moments.

#rick and morty #rickorty #c 137cest #rickmorty #prompts

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ssa-daddyhotchner · 3 years

Note

Can you write something where when the reader sees Aaron for the first time in the fbi vest she can’t take her eyes off of him. When he confronts her about it, she denies it so he decides to send her filthy texts the whole flight home. When they land he tells the reader to get in his car. When they get to his place to go at it, she asks if he’ll wear the vest. He does. DomHotch!!! 😚 xoxo

You'll have to wait

(Request by anonymous)

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warning - (NSFW 18+)

Word Count - 2.3k

Material list

______________________

“Alright Reid and JJ stay here, look over anything else we might have missed. Coronate the media and send back up.” My eyes snapped over to Aaron.

“Sir what about me.”

“You’re coming with, your vest is in the car. Everybody lets go.”

I was confused at the request but I followed the order.

I never went into the field, I had experience from my previous job before the BAU. But Aaron never let me go with him to make an arrest which I never minded. I’d much rather work from the precinct or do an interrogation

I had my gun with me at all times but have I ever used it in an actual situation... With the BAU never once but with my other job yes. When Aaron and I got together he never changed a thing about how he acted towards me. It was always business but he did still worry about me.

Going after regular criminals is definitely less nerve racking than serial killers.

“Hotch sir”, I stopped him before he left the room. “Are you about me going with you? I can stay here, It’s not a problem.”

“Y/n you’ll be fine. Strauss called earlier about how you never do anything, how I ‘benched you’. She wanted to see what you could do.”

“But--” I tried to speak but JJ and Reid left the room and we needed to move over. “Look y/n we need to go.. come on.” He lightly tugged on my arm to follow him. I followed him as the rest of the team left the building.

We climbed into the SUVs. The whole way there Hotch gave the orders that the ubsub was in the house, he didn’t plan on coming out alive. Morgan, Hotch, and I got into one car while Emily and Rossi went into the other.

Aaron and Morgan could feel the nervousness radiating off of my body. Morgan turned around in the passenger seat, “Baby you gotta calm down.”

I scoffed a dry laugh, “Easy for you to say, you guys do this all the time.”

Aaron kept his hands on the wheel and focused on the road. “You’ve done this before nothings different.”

“Yeah it is, I worked with those people in the field before and I trusted them. That's not me saying I don't trust you guys because I do... It’s just different.”

“Just follow us you’ll be okay.” Aaron spoke and turned the corner on the street and my view revealed lines of cop cars and flashing lights. Hotch pulled over and we all got out of the car, I walked behind him and go to the back.

He opens the trunk and pulls out three vests. I froze a little, being intimidated. I watched as Morgan and Aaron put on their vests. My eyes drifted over to Aaron, it fit his body perfectly. The navy blues kevlar fibers and white letters splayed across his chest.

“Sweetheart, my eyes are up here.” He said teasingly after Derek had walked away. “Sorry”, he just smirked and helped me tighten my vest before we made our way over to the officers.

“Are you ready?” Aaron and I walked over the house.

“Totally.” I wasn’t ready, being too distracted.

--------------------------------------

On the jet Aaron sat in the back with his face buried in the files that scattered the table. I was with Emily and Derek on the opposite end. They were talking about Reid and teasing him while he was sitting in the seat next to us.

While they were cracking jokes I couldn’t stop thinking about how Aaron looked in that fucking vest. He was already built but with the extra padding he just sparked that part of me.

My eyes drifted over to him working, he pen glided across the paper and his hands--

Zoning out I didn’t realize that he had noticed. Then my phone vibrated on the table.

Aaron - Are you okay there

Me - Yeah I'm fine... why

Aaron - You’re staring

Me - No I wasn’t just thinking about you

Aaron - Me? You know what I think

Aaron - I think you couldn’t stop thinking about how I looked earlier. Your mouth was practically water at the sight of me. I bet you just wanted to get on your knees right there in front of everyone

I glanced up in surprise at Aaron and his files were closed and he was looking at me with a smug grin.

Aaron - You’re imagining it now aren’t you

I was honestly, the things I’d do for that man. I clenched my thighs together and hoped no one noticed.

I didn’t want to react but he was already getting a rise out of me.

Aaron - You want to be on your back and have me over you with my cock buried so far, just wait baby

My eyes widened a bit and I put my phone back down. There was no hiding how flush my face was. “Who keeps blowing up your phone.”

“Don’t worry about it”, i said too quickly and Emily reached over the table to grab my phone. I lunged over and snatched it back before she had the opportunity to search through it.

“Okay...” JJ said after being included in the conversation. Aaron saw how I had excused myself from the table and went to the bathroom.

When the plane landed we all exited and headed back to the office for the remainder of our things.

After everyone left I joined them, going into my car from the garage, I heard a car behind me. Aaron pulled up and rolled down the window, “My place, now.”

He didn’t say much after that, I climbed into the car and he reached a hand over to my thigh. His finger rubbed my thigh before the tipped of his fingers brushing, dangerously close to my core.

I just glanced over at him, he was still in his suit. His shirt was so tight over his chest you could see the definition.

We crossed the threshold of his house and not a second went by before my back was slammed against the wall.

“Aaron”, he shook his head slightly. “I didn’t say you could speak.”

“Please, I just-- I wanna ask you something.”

“You get one question before I have my way with you”, his hand traveled down my neck and to hip, keeping me on the wall. “Wear it.” He raised his eyebrows.

“The vest.”

“I knew you couldn’t stop those thoughts from going into your pretty little head, you want me to wear a government issued bulletproof vest so you can have your fantasy.” I whimpered, I really wanted it.

“I want you stripped and on the bed when I come back.” He released me and stepped away going out to the car. I went up stairs and in the bedroom shedding my clothes on the way. I kneeled on the bed and just waited and waited.

When he didn’t return the arousal between my leg was already dripping down onto the bed, slipping a hand down I made slow circles on my clit.

I was too focused on the sensation that I didn’t hear his heavy footsteps approaching the room. He watched with a smirk on his lips as I arched my back on the duvet. I got closer and closer to finishing and he could tell.

My eyes snapped open and he was hovering over me, “I tell you when to cum... understand.” his voice was dark and coated with lust. I didn’t expect him, I thought I’d be able to hear.

I nervously nodded my head. “Tsk, are you going to be a good girl for me.”

“Yes sir.”

“I don’t think you are, needy little sluts always say whatever they need to get their way. That sounds like you doesn’t it?” He put a finger under my chin and lifted my gaze to match his.

“No sir I promise.”

“We’ll see won’t we, step off and get on your knees.” He pushed himself off the bed and I got the full view of him. It was like I saw him for the first time again, he looked so fucking good.

I didn’t take a second thought before getting low in front of him, patiently waiting for him. Aaron was going to either take his time or be indescribably rough to get the message through.

His hands went to his belt and took it off moving around me and buckling my hands together behind my back.

Stepping in front of me he unzipped his pants and pulled them down enough to pull himself out. “Open”, he ordered before my jaw slacked as he slid his cock into my mouth.

He looked down at me and my eyes met his. A groan escaped his lips before he took the motion. Sliding a hand behind my head and into my hair, he gripped a portion.

Tilting my head up a bit more so he could thrust in and out easier. “This is what you wanted right-- fuck little girl you’re doing that so well.” He gritted out using my mouth as a tool for his own pleasure.

He was right, this is what I wanted, just the feeling of him inside my mouth was enough to make me cum. I wished he’d let me touch him, to just get a better grip and grab his thighs to stable myself.

“I might actually let you finish tonight if you keep this up.” With the limited motion I had I flattened my tongue along his shaft and took him in as deep as I could before it was too much.

I gagged around him, no matter how far we were into the scene he still cared about how I was feeling. Aaron pulled out and loosened my hair in his fingers, “You gotta breathe.”

There was a string of saliva moving down my face as I swallowed and collected myself. "Are you okay?", I nodded softly.

"Do you want to keep going?" He gave me an out, he didn't want me to feel obligated to keep going just because of him. Aaron wanted me to feel comfortable.

"Yes", he resumed what he wanted. Opening my mouth back up.

His cock moved slower to give me extra time to get okay again. When I moaned around him he got the message.

Pushing his hips into my face again and I got that feeling of my jaw being stretched.

He groaned and his dick twitched and I knew he was close, I wanted him to finish but he pulled back.

When he got a hold of my waist he tossed me on the bed. Flipping me over roughly my face pressed into the pillows below me. Aaron manhandled me like I was a ragdoll. “Well would you look at that, you really do get off when you act like the whore you are” There a small wet spot on the floor.

My face was flushed and I caught my breath. Feeling the bed dip he adjusted my hips into the air. “Fuck”, I muttered my breath.

“What was that.” I didn’t answer and he didn’t like that.

His hand traveled over my curve of my spine and Aaron placed a slap onto my ass. Recovering he slammed himself into me and I jerked forwards. Letting out an embarrassingly loud moan I bit my lip and tried to hold them in.

“Now don’t do that now, I wanna. hear. you.” He every word he pumped in. I whimpered, getting the relief that had been building a few hours earlier. He grazed my g-spot deliciously and snaked a hand to my clit.

“Oh god... fuck.” Leaning onto me his other hand wrapped around my neck and lifted me flush against his chest. I felt the kevlar on my back and it scratched my sensitive skin.

His fingers tightened around my throat and squeezed. My vision went hazed and I rested my head back onto his shoulder. My back arched and I got every sensation I could.

We locked eyes and he captured my lips in his, he slid his tongue over mine and claimed dominance.

“Does the little bitch deserve to cum tonight.” He quickened his thrusts and I jolted. “Daddy please.” I clenched around him and I watched as he tossed his head back. I was already so close, and he knew it.

“Sir can I cum.”

“Not yet.” I could barely hold it, his pace on my clit was too much to handle. I choked out, “Aaron please.”

“Go ahead baby.” Releasing the tension that was building was like breaking a dam. I came around him and I felt him pulse. My orgasm brought him over the edge and he spilled inside of me.

I fell limp and he let me go, my pulse calmed as I came back to reality. He undid my restraints and I automatically pulled him on me, my lips met his.

“Come here”, he whispered against my lips and he helped me stand as my knees buckled. I couldn’t walk or stand on my own, “Fuck Aaron.” I chuckled and he brought me to the bathroom, cleaning up.

I watched as he shed his clothes, to lazy to actually put them in the hamper they laid on the floor. “It was hot in that.” He said when he felt the cool air on his skin.

I smirked and kissed him again, “and it was so fucking worth it.”

“Glad you enjoyed it."

Getting up I made my way back into the bedroom and settled under the thin sheet. I laid my head down, Aaron had gone into the kitchen to get me some water.

When he came back he smiled at the sight, I was already sleeping so he placed the glass next to me on the table.

He got into bed, curling up with me. My sleeping body flipped over and automatically clung on to him. Putting my head on his chest, his arm moved around me and his hand rested on my hip.

Aaron kissed my temple and he fell asleep soundly.

#aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #fanfic #aaron #ssa hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #oneshot #aaron smut #hotch smut #aaron hotchner smut

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Note

hey bestiee! i love your work. what about prompt smut 6-8

of course!! thank you so much :) i wasn’t sure if you meant 6 though 8 or just 6 and 8 so i just did 6, 7, and 8.

i know this is beyond super late, i’ve just been really stressed out and a bit down lately. i’ll try my best to get more work out. please just be patient with me :)

smut #6: “i just need to feel close to you right now” (possibly angst?)

smut #7: “the walls aren’t that thick”

smut #8: mirror sex

CW: unprotected sex, penetrative sex, kinda shower sex, readers dad died, emotional sex. *please let me know if i missed anything*

you had been having a rough time since before you went on the case. even spencer has picked up on it. you were quieter than usual on the jet ride to kansas, where the case was taking place.

you were always there for spencer when he was in a rut - even at 3am when you’ve finally gotten a wink of rest. you’ve constantly put him above your own needs, and now it’s time for him to compensate. he vowed to himself that he’d do anything to make you feel better.

luckily for him, the two of you have constantly roomed together on overnight cases. you trudged into the room, sighing as you sat down on the bed. spencer gazed at your beauty in spite of the exhaustion, nothing could lessen said beauty.

“i think i’m gonna take a shower,” you announced in a monotones fashion, picking through your go bag to retrieve what you needed.

“alright,” spencer nodded as he took his own position on the bed.

it had only been 5 minutes since you went into the bathroom and the only noise spencer heard was the quiet sobbing and sniffling from the other side of the door.

“y/n?” spencer knocked on the door, his ear pressed against it to hear you.

“yea?” you sniffled, probably wiping your nose because it tends to get runny when you cry.

“are you alright?” spencer asked timidly.

“what? yea,” you scoffed with a fake laugh. “i’m perfect.”

“the walls aren’t that thick, y/n,” he chuckled. “please just open up.”

“come in,” you announced.

when spencer opened the door, he saw you clad in a hotel towel, sitting on the floor with your arms wrapped around your knees.

“y/n/n,” he walked beside you and sat in front of where you were, his hands covering your own. “what happened?”

“my dad died yesterday before we got called out on the case,” you sniffled. “i know we weren’t on the best terms but… it still hurts.”

“you didn’t have to come. you know that hotch and everyone here would understand that,” spencer added.

“but i needed normalcy - or i thought i did. this is normal for me. cases. work. you,” you smiled up at him. “i can barely even work up the courage to take a fucking shower. how am i supposed to help catch a serial killer?”

“i can help,” he announced. “with the case.”

“i know. you practically solve them all yourself,” you nudged his hand. “would you mind helping me with… a shower?” there was a moment of silence. “y’know what? that was stupid. i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have ask-“

“of course, i can,” spencer stopped your rambling. “anything you need. i’m here.”

“you’re so amazing, spencer,” you pulled his hands to your lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the knuckle.

he grasped your arms as you stood and undressed to get into the shower, trying to avoid looking at your body. he couldn’t deny his feelings for you, so seeing you in such a way would definitely not be ideal for his own sake. he removed his own clothing after finding a nice temperature for the water, joining you inside within a couple of seconds.

when his eyes met your own, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his torso. your head rested against his chest, he could feel your breath on his skin. the contact was enough to… awaken, something within him.

“ignore it,” he whispered, stroking your hair, trying to avoid eye contact as he felt your eyes on his face.

“what if i don’t want to?” you offered, moving your hand from his back to his neck, cradling his face. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but… i just need to feel close to you right now. before you disappear,” you pressed your lips right below his ear, gently kissing the sensitive spot and feeling the goosebumps arise.

“you-you’re really vulnerable right now, y/n. i just-i don’t want to take advantage of you,” he let his hands wander to your waist, trying to hold you steady.

“is that the only thing stopping you?” he nodded. “i need you. i want you, spencer.”

“it’s only because you’re feeling exposed right now,” he sighed, trying to avoid looking into the tears in your eyes.

“no, it’s not,” you shook your head. “i’ve always wanted you - since that first night you came to my place and i watched star trek for the first time but we accidentally fell asleep cuddling.”

“that was two years ago,” he reminded you, you nodded in return. “you’ve felt-you’ve wanted me?”

“of course i have,” you scoffed. “if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine. i mean it only makes sense to lay all of my cards out right now.”

“i do - feel the same, i mean,” he smiled. “when i first met you, you had shaken my hand before i could muster up the courage to tell you about my aversion to touch. and then hotch mentioned how i don’t do handshakes and you started apologizing like crazy,” he chuckled upon the memory.

“i thought i made you uncomfortable, and i had only just met you!” you laughed in return, hiding your head in his shoulder.

“you have such a beautiful laugh, y/n,” his thumb stroked gentle circles in your skin, admiring the smile that adorned your face slowly fading. slowly, he let his free hand trace your jawline, drawing your face closer to his as he leaned in towards you.

and then he let your lips touch tenderly, savoring the taste of mint left on your breath. your hands held onto his forearms before trailing them up to his hair, grasping it and tugging ever so slightly to elicit a groan from the genius.

“i need you,” you moaned into his mouth, letting your fingers get closer to his roots to pull it.

“anything,” he agreed, his hand on your waist tracing to your ass, firmly squeezing it as your hips rolled into his own.

you reached between the two of you and lined his, surprisingly hard, cock up with your entrance. he slowly, but surely, pressed into you. he was noticeably longer than you had anticipated, the shock leaving your mouth agape as a whimper passed through your lips.

“oh, god,” you traded his hair for his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself as he pulled out, looking for your approval before allowing himself to enter you once more. “so good,” you let your head drop to his chest.

“jump,” he wrapped your legs around his waist before getting out of the shower, setting you back on the counter so he could get a better angle. “good girl,” he pressed a kiss to the skin below your ear, relishing in the way you wrapped your arms securely around his neck.

looking past you and into the mirror, he saw your arms wrapped around his neck, your head hiding on his shoulder. he realized then and there the severity of this moment. the sensitivity of the woman in his arms. he swore he would protect you from harms way from then on out - however hard it may be.

“spencer,” you pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “i’m so close, baby.”

he brought his hand between your bodies and began working your clit in gentle, rapid circles to lead you closer to the edge.

“me too,” he huffed as his hips sped up. “where do you want it?”

“inside,” you replied without hesitation. “please, need it.”

“god, you’re perfect,” as his thrusts began to stagger, he felt your pussy fluttering around him, signaling your release as your arms tightened around him. a shriek left your lips that you tried to silence by softly biting on his shoulder. “i love you,” he groaned as he filled you up.

as he finally came down from his high, he realized what he had revealed in a momentary lapse. you stared at him with tears in your eyes, but spencer couldn’t tell what you were thinking. in a swift motion, you pulled him closer to you and pressed your lips to his.

“i love you too.”

#mggwl 1k celebration #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader

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un2-verse · 3 years

Text

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (1)

》 News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right? 《

pairings: john kramer!taehyung x female reader

warnings: dark themes, angst, yandere, murder, torture, self harm, suicide, stalking etc.... (will add more when i know lol) although it is rather innocent in the first couple chapters(?) so idk it could be slow burn but i guess we’ll find out as i write it >< ,, it’s my version of saw if saw was a fucked up love story lol. Please don’t read if any of the topics mentioned trigger you!! 18+

this fic is exactly that, fiction!!!! the au does not represent the characters mentioned irl......

synopsis: you end up lost on the other side of town, where you cross paths with a handsome stranger, kim taehyung, only.... are you a stranger to him?

[a/n: daffodils represent; love me, sympathy, desire and affection returned...]

word count: 3k

series masterlist

part two

——————————————————————————

Hiding behind a mask was something you were accustomed to. Your friend group and family were clueless to the torment you endured from simply existing. You were confident your masking had convinced the world you were happy with yourself. Unbeknown to you, one other person saw straight through your façade.

You wanted to end your life.

He needed you to cherish your life.

Nothing looked familiar. The café you frequented was nowhere to be found. Your usual hangout was most definitely not on the side of town you found yourself in. You felt anxiety slowly curl its way around your body, you were frigid. You tried and tried but couldn’t find it in yourself to run.

You lived in the more friendly part of town (so to speak) – where houses were colourful, gardens pristine, warm-hearted neighbours who would treat you like family and white picket fences are what surrounded you. That was your norm, sure, you weren’t exactly loaded but you weren’t exactly poor either. It was a healthy balance in the middle. That’s not to say you hadn’t lived or seen this side of town before.

Your Mother and Father had grown up on this side of the fence. Two young people brought up in the rougher, more unfortunate areas. Your Mother was tough; she looked like a naïve, weak girl, albeit that was not the case. She was strong willed, used to life on the streets and doing anything she could to get money to make sure there was at least some food on the table. While your Mum was the leader, your Dad was more of a sheep. He was easily influenced and was dragged into the wrong crowd (had his fair share with drugs and street racing). That was their life for a few years till they crossed paths and your Mum helped your Dad get back on the right track.

They didn’t tell you much about their childhood and adolescence but they told you enough to make you appreciate what you have and to always work hard for it. To stick with the right people, be wise and conscious of your decisions. Be kind to those around you.

Your family owned a garage; your Dad was the head mechanic. This was the sole reason you were here. You knew it wouldn’t be simple when you agreed to go to this side of town to get a few bits for your Father’s shop. However, you didn’t expect it to be this difficult. How could you be so stupid? Why didn’t you just ask Hoseok and Yoongi to come with you like your father told you to? Or at least tell them where you were… yet you decided today of all days to be stubborn and venture on yourself, knowing full well how unsafe the area was. There were rundown businesses on either side of the road, beggars at every doorstep; drug dealings happening in broad daylight, no one even trying to hide it.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you took it out and sighed a breath of relief once you’d read the texts.

14:37— From Papa: U ok munchkin ??? Did u get the stuff ?

14:39— From Papa: its ok if u didnt. Yoongs rang said hes got majority this morning lol so be safe n get home soon . Love u

14:40— To Papa: ohhh ok pops, i couldn’t find the shop anyway lol i’ll head back soon, love u too x

*LOW BATTERY*

“Fuck, trust me to forget to charge the bastard.” You rolled your eyes as you stuffed the phone back in your pocket.

Muffled shouting was heard around you. People ran across the street, bumping into you as they ran past. You gathered yourself and moved further down the path. “Great!” you exasperated, “honestly I’m so fucking stupid! Yoongi’s gonna kill me for this, I knew, I knew I should’ve told him I was coming over here but no,” your head was hung low as you dragged your feet across the pavement, “maybe I could tell Hobi, he wouldn’t be as angry right? I’m sure he’ll come,“ A sudden scream ripped you out of your chuntering. You whipped your head to the right, you could make out some figures bustling about in front of you, a group of men were quite clearly fighting… your anxiety struck you and you held your breath as you saw a man pull a knife from the waistband of his sweatpants. All thoughts and common sense seemed to leave all at once. Statue like, feet stuck to the ground. You watched on as the group rushed towards the brown haired man, you scanned his figure: tall, broad, confident… he exuded an intimidating aura even when you were this far away from him.

How could someone be so sure of themselves? It was one against five, surely the loner had no chance?

The glistening of the knife brought you back to your senses. Fucking hell. How do you always end up in these situations when you’re alone? Why me? Why? Good Lord, I need to run. Just as you were about to leave, the group who were arguing charged past you; one gripped his side as another supported his weight. Holy fuck, did he stab him? you stood frozen, yet again, your mind raced a mile a minute. Panic bubbled in your chest.

“You okay there Doll?” His voice was deep, velvet-like. It flowed so smoothly you doubted it was real, it was so soothing like it had wrapped itself around you, embracing your body. You heard his footsteps before he planted himself beside you. His shoulder reached the top of your head, his hand brushed yours. Swallowing your nerves you dared a glance up. He was fucking breath-taking, like a fallen angel. The stranger shot you a small smile that you would’ve easily missed had you not been staring at his features… a blush crept up your neck as you nodded. His smile slowly twisted into a smirk.

Cute, Taehyung thought to himself. Couldn’t help but adore the way you slightly trembled under his gaze, the way your hands gripped and twisted your sweater paws. Almost like a puppy. He cleared his throat and reached his hand to yours, “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Taehyung.” you took his hand into yours, apprehensively you greeted him, “I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, Y/N. I haven’t seen you round here before, you new or something?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side, his eyes seemed to stare right through you.

“Uhm, I don’t live here. I live over the other part of Town… I was just grabbing some stuff for my Dad but, my phones about to die. I have no idea where I am or how to get home, I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t see anything!” a deep chuckle cut you off, Taehyung smiled and beckoned you to follow him.

“Come on Y/N, you’re not suited for this side of Town, I’ll walk you back. A pretty little thing like you, you’re easy prey to these guys.” your feet fell into a cautious pace behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, “hurry up Buttercup, I don’t bite.” Taehyung flashed a boxy grin in your direction, which caused you to speed up ever so slightly.

You were unsure how you felt about letting a complete stranger walk you home, Yoongi would definitely kill you for this. Especially with the recent news of some serial killer named ‘Jigsaw’, Yoongi and Hoseok had been very stern and their usual, overprotective selves when the news had broken out. “It’s on every headline Y/Nie! No more leaving the house on yourself, you need to go anywhere you ring either of us. Got it? Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know either. There’s some dodgy fucks about recently.” Although, you loved them dearly, sometimes their protectiveness was a...little overbearing. You already felt suffocated from your parents (you didn’t need it from your best friends as well). They were happy and believed you to be too; but that was exhausting, faking happiness. You had a constant façade, acted like a happy normal teenager with a happy family; when that was far from the truth.

Drowning. That’s how you’d explain the way you felt. Breathing was difficult and brought you more pain than it was worth. Growing up was tedious, you had grown differently to your peers which only brought ridicule and embarrassment for you. You had struggled with your speech (sometimes you still do), you often stuttered, mispronounced words, the list was endless. That was one of the first reasons you were a castaway. As you grew, the ridicule worsened. Verbal abuse turned physical from your classmates. They made you feel like you were a waste of space. The names they called you, you soon started to believe them. Ugly. Weird. Freak. Stupid. They took root in your brain, slowly they grew and grew till your head was overgrown with twisted, rotten weeds.

Eventually, you sought comfort in blood. You didn’t care that it hurt you; you were almost happy to feel pain. Like you deserved to.

By age 14, you had started to skip school. Only ever there for exams and a couple of art classes you had with Jeongguk. He was what you would’ve called a best friend, he supported you and was by your side till you left school. He went away to college and like always with school friends, you drifted apart. Nevertheless, he still texts you now and then to check in.

Although you were (once) close with Jeongguk. He never knew of your inner demons, the same with Yoongi and Hoseok. You didn’t want to feel like a burden and worry your friends when they had shit to worry about themselves.

Why devastate flowers that flourish beautifully with weeds that manage to twist their way around every crack?

You had walked for a few minutes now, having chatted absentmindedly about anything and everything. The roads still didn’t look familiar to you and you just wished they did, you didn’t want to be away from your home any longer, your feet were starting to ache, your phone was on 10% battery and it was fucking cold. You just wanted to be back in bed tucked up watching Lady and the Tramp or 101 Dalmatians for the millionth time. You felt safe and content when you indulged in your comfort films. Far away from the real world and wrapped up in the false reality. They easily distracted you and that's when you truly felt at peace. Your mind was always too busy thinking about how cute it was when Tramp calls Lady, Pidge or how in love Pongo and Perdy were.

Majority of the time you fantasised about having a love similar, but then again, why would you wanna make yourself vulnerable like that? Is the risk of being hurt (more than you are now) any good? Of course it’s not. Fuck that, life isn’t nothing like those shitty romance films or novels… It’s real and painful.

As you and Taehyung rounded the corner, a little cafe caught your eye, a dainty blue and pink building. Fairy Lights strung up around the windows, you could see a handful of people inside, busy sipping their drinks and chatting away to one another. ‘Aroma Mocha’ hung above the doors. It looked so cute and simple. Your previous thoughts left your mind as quick as they had come. You wanted to go inside, it had an enticing atmosphere.

Taehyung hadn’t realised you’d stopped walking until he couldn’t hear the soft thud of your footsteps behind him, he turned as he called out to you, your eyes still fixed on the cafe. He chuckled to himself, “Fucking adorable, like a kid at christmas,” he walked back over to you. “Hey Doll, you wanna go in?” He felt his heart quicken when you looked at him with those pretty eyes, “We’ve plenty of time to get you back before it’s dark angel.” You answered him with a nod as you turned your head from Taehyung to look back at the alluring little cafe.

Not a second had passed before Taehyung grabbed your hand and pulled you across the road to the entrance; you ignored the warmth of his hand as it intertwined with yours; you ignored the way your tummy erupted with butterflies. Taehyung had stopped to hold the door for you, you murmured a small, “thank you,” looking up at him, the heat that crept up your cheeks making your face resemble that of a doll’s he thought to himself. Once he ushered you fully inside, he placed his hand to rest on the curve of your waist as he guided you to the back corner of the room, where a quaint table for two was unoccupied, a little pot of Daffodils sat atop. How fitting...

Taehyung was quick to pull the chair out for you to take a seat, you pulled it in as you sat down and sent a shy smile his way, “I’m sorry, I know we just met Taehyung but this place is so fucking precious! I hope I’m not bothering you, if I am we can just carry on walking or, I could ring a Taxi? Is this weird? Oh god, I can’t believe--”, Taehyung threw his head back as he laughed, a sound that seemed to wrap its way around your soul, twisting around your heart in the nicest of ways, it was almost like a killer to the weeds taking over your body. A temporary release. You felt like you could really breathe in those short seconds of his laughter.

“Angel, if you were bothering me, I’d have kept on walking. That, or I would’ve called you a Taxi myself, it’s no problem honestly.” You ducked your head as he sent a wink your way, fuck sake Y/N get it together! Why are you acting like a fucking schoolgirl?

“Well I uh, appreciate it so, yeah thank you?” You don’t know what to do, you’re here with the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid your eyes on… yet you have no clue if what you saw was real, did Taehyung stab someone? Could someone have had the knife who wasn’t Taehyung? Was he even the person you saw in that altercation? Did you imagine everything that had gone off?

Before you had chance to overthink it, a light bubbly voice greeted your ears, “Hi! Welcome to Aroma Mocha, I’m Jimin and I’ll be your server today. Is there anything I can get you?” Jimin held his gaze on you as he flashed you a friendly smile, Taehyung turned around at the sound of his best friend, “Oh, Tae! I wasn’t expecting to see you today, what are you doing here? And who’s this pretty little lady?”

“This is Y/Nie, she was in the neighbourhood so we thought we’d nip in for something to drink before I take her back to hers.” you sent a warm smile to Jimin which he gladly returned, “I’ll have my usual and can you get Y/Nie a Strawberry Iced Tea? Thanks man.”

Once Jimin had disappeared to make your drinks, you shot your eyes to Taehyung, “Uhm, how’d you know I like Strawberry Iced Tea?” Taehyung didn’t even look in your direction as he scrolled through his phone, eyes glued to the screen. A minute passed by and he’d still not acknowledged your question so you let it slide, it wasn’t that big of a deal right? Your mind drifted. Your fingers rested atop of your lap, hidden from the sight of onlookers, picking around your nails as anxiety flooded your body. You felt like you were about to suffocate. You shouldn’t be talking to anyone, you shouldn’t let anyone close. You were only going to fuck everything up in a heartbeat. It’s only natural. Self deprecating thoughts devoured and made their way through your veins, poisoning yourself further; your whole body felt as though it was alight.

Jimin brought you your drinks, placed them carefully in front of the pair of you as you both said your thanks.

The click of Taehyung’s phone being locked and the clearing of his throat brought you back to your senses. “The drink I ordered for you is popular here so, I assumed you’d like to try it. You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” your eyes shot up to meet his, your head tilted a little to the left as your tongue wet your lip, so puppy like...

You stared incredulously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Taehyung.” You leant forward slightly as you wrapped your lips around the straw and took a sip.

Taehyung saw the way you sucked your drink up through your straw, his eyes darkened. Thankful to have worn sweatpants that day, he shifted himself discreetly, “I’m not stupid Angel, I know what you’re doing under the table. I’m here, so talk to me. I’ll listen to whatever you gotta say.”

You stuttered as you wracked your brain for something to say, “I-I only met you like forty minutes ago, I don’t even tell my friends what’s wrong. Not that there is, everything’s fine.”

You met me just short of an hour ago, he thought to himself, “You don’t have to lie to me Y/Nie…” he grabbed your hands that were laid near the cup of your Iced Tea. His thumb rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. You looked small and fragile, like the Daffodils on the table; one little pluck and you’d be ruined. He wouldn’t admit it to you just yet but, Taehyung fucking loved how delicate you seemed as you sat across from him.

How easy it would be to take your life away. How easy it’d be to pull those weeds up that are poisoning you, torturing you every single day. He shook his head, as he cleared those thoughts. No, only Y/N can make that decision. I’m just going to help her choose.

Live or Die.

You visibly winced, “You don’t know me. Think whatever the fuck you want about me, it doesn’t matter.” your eyes flashed hurt as you went back to picking your skin. You knew it, this whole encounter was too good to be true. A complete stranger (well acquaintance technically) had just presumed shit about you, the fact he was right is what hurt more. You didn’t want anyone to know how you were feeling. Or how you were dealing with it.

You couldn’t exactly tell him to piss off, you still needed his help home and so you tried to distract yourself from the unsettling gaze that watched your every move. You let out a breath as Taehyung went back to his phone. Your eyes drifted as you picked up the local Newspaper, your eyes skimmed over the headline, ‘Jigsaw Traps Continue’. Taehyung noticed you staring at the front page, and chuckled, “you scared of Jigsaw Angel?”

You shook your head, why would you be scared of some nutjob who’s targeted criminals and drug dealers? You’re a nobody. “Of some psychopathic puppet?” if anyone did anything to you that would threaten your life, it would be you. Taehyung just laughed in return as you skipped the article and skim-read the other pointless stories.

You were fucking clueless as to who he was while he knew every little thing about you. He had watched you for months… His precious little Y/Nie… Oh how silly you were, taking your life for granted.

You hated yourself that much, you were willingly marking yourself up. Tainting your skin… oh your skin, how fucking beautiful and soft it looked, even with all the scars it still looked perfect… Taehyung wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and lock you inside with him. Forever. He didn’t want anyone touching what was his.

He knew you wore a mask when in public, too afraid to show your real self. Little did you know, he wore a mask himself...only he wore it to better other people.

He had a plan.

And you’d soon find out.

Let the games begin.

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chrizbang · 3 years

Photo

Pairing: Han Jisung x female reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: mature content, oral sex (m), lowkey sub!Jisung

Word count: 1.488

"Guys, are you sure about it?" Jisung asked. You were inside of the car, going on an adventure. "Can you guys stop acting like scaredy-cats? It's going to be fun. Besides, I won the bet so you guys have to do anything I want," you complained, turning around to look at Jisung. You were sitting in the front of the car with Chan, while he was driving. In the back were Jisung, Minho, and Cindy, his new girlfriend. You know it wouldn't last like the rest of his relationships, but at least they were having fun. You were heading to a place you always wanted to go to, a mall that has been abandoned for 20 years. It was far away from your house, in a less populated place in the city. You loved seeing pictures of abandoned places and always wanted to go to one, now you had a chance. "Of course you won, you cheated," Jisung protested. "How would I cheat on Mario Kart?" "According to the GPS, we are almost there," Chan said. "Awesome," Minho stretched his arms. "I can't handle Y/N and Jisung bickering anymore." You huffed, but you knew he was right. You and Jisung didn't stop arguing since you got in the car, but it wasn't anything serious. "We are here, let's go inside already. It's 4PM, we need to leave before it gets dark," Chan said, stopping the car in front of the gates of the mall. It was big but it wasn't the biggest one you've seen. "It's beautiful," you looked at it with admiration, feeling excited to go inside. You stepped out of the car, you couldn't wait anymore. "You're a freak," Jisung criticized, making a grumpy face. You didn't answer him, looking for a way to get in. "We'll have to jump over the wall," Cindy said, holding Minho's hand. You could see nobody was really enjoying this idea, but you weren't brave enough to go alone. "Come on Y/N, I'll help you out," Jisung suggested. You laughed. "Jisung, I don't think you're going to be able to handle me." He looked at you offended, you clearly hurt his ego, even though it wasn't your intention. He didn't have time to complain, Chan was already holding his legs and lifting him up on the wall. "Ugh, crap," Jisung whined, scratching his arm on the hard surface. "Sorry," Chan apologized. One by one, you jumped the wall. Chan was the last one, you were impressed by his abilities to jump walls like that. You needed to remind yourself to ask him how he learned that later. There was a vast yard around the mall. There were a lot of bushes, plants growing everywhere. "How are we going to get in?" Minho asked you. "I don't know, didn't thought about this detail." "Are you stupid?," Jisung stopped, looking at you. "Shut the fuck up, Jisung." "Guys," said Cindy. "There's a gap on the wall here. It's small but we can go through it." The gap was next to the entrance, probably because somebody went inside before you. The place was abandoned for so long, you expected this to happen. You went first, getting on your knees so you could go through it, lifting up your ass, knowing that Jisung was right behind you. You knew that both Minho and Chan were very handsome and you would be lying if you said you were not attracted to them. But you've been their friend for so long that you saw them more as your silly friends than as Hot Men™. Jisung on the other hand fascinated you. You met him after he moved to your city, to work with Chan and Minho, his longtime friends. Since you were older than Jisung, he always looked awkward around you. He tried to look mature, to make himself tough next to you. To be honest, you loved to tease him. You loved to see his chubby cheeks go red because you said or done something that made him blush. Jisung was adorable. You thought he had a crush on you, but you weren't sure. When you were finally inside, you were blown away by the place. It had a lot of dirt, of course, but it had its own beauty. To think that this place has a history, that it had people living their lives inside of it, was amazing. At least for you. "This place sucks," Jisung complained. You rolled your eyes. "Can you at least pretend that you are enjoying it?" "I like it," Cindy said. "Thank you, Cindy." "Where do we go first?" Chan asked, looking around. "I don't think we should split up," Minho advised, looking concerned. "Let's go upstairs," you disclosed. You went up the stairs, admiring the place around you. "Wow, there was an arcade here," Chan said, while he ran to take a look at the place. Cindy and Minho followed him, but you were too busy looking the other way. You saw the entrance to a restaurant, it had a vintage decoration and you definitely wanted to go there. "Y/N," you heard Jisung whispering, calling your name, but you ignored him. "Fuck," Jisung said, following you. You stepped into the restaurant, admiring the place. The decoration had a 60's vibe. There was a huge balcony with some seats in front of it. Next to the balcony, there were five tables, that kind of table that had couches around it so people could sit together. The color faded but you could see it was pink. At the end of the corridor that was made by the balcony and the tables, there was a bathroom. It was small but so cute, you loved it. "Y/N, I don't think you should be alone in this place. What if there's someone here, maybe a serial killer?" Jisung said when he saw you. "Look around. This is why I wanted to come. This place is beautiful." "Yeah, I must admit that's pretty cool, but I really think we should look for the others." Suddenly, you had an idea. It was bold, way too bold, even for you.

"Jisung, why did you come after me?" "Huh?" he asked you, not understanding your question. "I said..." you paused, getting closer to him. "Why did you come after me and didn't went with the others?" "I didn't want to leave you alone." "Why?" you tilted your head, seeing Jisung's cheeks reddening. "B-because it's dangerous." he stuttered. You pressed him against the balcony, locking him between two seats and your body. "Y/N, what are you doing?" his eyes widened. "You are so cute, did you know that?" "Y-yeah, of course, I know," you couldn't help but laugh at his attempt to look presumptuous. You grinned, running your hands through his hair. Jisung leaned into your touch. You got on your knees in front of him, holding on to his belt while you tried to unbuckle it. "Y-Y/N?" he asked. You pulled his pants down to the floor without fully taking them off and started to do the same with his boxers, freeing his dick. It was a thick, average-sized dick, with a pink tip begging you to put your tongue on it. "Somebody it's excited," you teased him. You could hear him whimpering and you smirked. You held his shaft, running your hand up and down. Jisung let out a little moan, giving you the confidence to keep going. After teasing him a little, you ran your tongue from his balls to his head, sucking on it and swallowing his precum. You kept sucking on his head while you rubbed your hand up and down on his dick. Jisung placed his hand on the back of your neck, holding tight on your hair. You bobbed your head up and down, hearing how Jisung couldn't control his moans no more. For a moment you were scared that someone would enter the restaurant and see you sucking Jisung's cock, but it lowkey turned you on even more. "Y/N, I-I'm gonna cum," he said breathlessly. You sucked harder on his dick and started to touch his balls. Jisung gave you one last moan before you felt his hot cum, some of it slipping out of the corner of your mouth. You swallowed all you could and then used your finger to collect the rest that escaped your mouth. You felt your knees aching because of the floor, but when you lifted your head and saw the look on Jisung's face, and you thought it was worth it. His cheeks were red, he had sweat on his forehead, he looked at you with desire on his eyes. You got up, running your hand on your knees to take the dust off. "Let's keep this between you and me, okay?" you told him. "Okay." You left the restaurant with a smile, knowing that now you had a little secret with Jisung.

Author’s note: thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it and feedback is always welcome.

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wwilloww · 4 years

Text

sugar | ksj

A/N: This story was commissioned by @jamaisjoons through @ficswithluv‘s Changes With Luv project. Thank you so much for your donation. I had so much fun writing this Jin and exploring these characters so—I hope you enjoy it! A million thousand hundred THANK YOUS to @unlikelylittlemiss and @ot7always for beta’ing this!

After many hours of technical difficulties, I’ve formatted what I hope will be the final version of this story. So far I think it’s the favorite one that I’ve written, so if you like this piece, please let me know! It means the world to me when I hear from you all.

|| masterlist || moodboard || ao3 ||

Seokjin traces the rim of the crystal glass, absentmindedly watching the crowd around him swell and sway like a tide. His eyes sweep over the sea of faces, but he doesn't find what he's looking for.

He swirls the golden liquid around the glass and takes a slow sip, wetting his lips with his tongue as he relishes in the comfortable burn of peaty scotch sliding down his throat.

Finally, his gaze captures what he's been searching for.

You. Dressed in a slim asymmetrical white number, sheer fabric draping delicately over one arm. You're unmistakable.

Above you, thousands of shards of crystal hang as if suspended in midair, the art piece paling in comparison to the presence you command. The venue is dimly lit, but the blend of candlelight and starshine is enough to illuminate your face and paint your features in a dance of shimmering light.

He watches the million-dollar sculpture light your slight smile and curious eyes with a silver radiance. The pinkish light of a neon sign had bounced off of your features in an almost identical fashion the night you met.

ONE YEAR AGO

It was chance. Two strangers, anonymous in your settings, both searching for an escape. After finishing your first ever commission, you were desperate to get out of your cramped, barely-affordable studio, while Jin wanted to slip away from the pressures and strict culture of his high-end gallery. Neither knew who the other was, but you gravitated to each other nonetheless.

He sees you first as you shoulder through the front door of the dive bar, your rain-drenched jacket slung over your back, your eyes bright and intelligent. But you were the one to approach the tall, broad shouldered man first, riding off the high of a completed project. You buy him a drink—and then a second. You don’t talk about work tonight. Don’t talk about your lives. You’re both so absorbed in the other that you’re oblivious to the scent of tobacco smoke drifting over you, or the sounds of a rowdy pool game behind you. After four hours cozied up at that bar as the rain pours down outside, you invite him back to your tiny, paint and plant addled apartment.

Once you arrive back home, your roommate nowhere to be seen, you quickly offer him a drink. You hurried to the kitchen to dig through the fridge to find something— really, anything—to serve the handsome man standing in your living room and curse yourself for not getting groceries this week.

“Who is this?” Jin asks.

“Huh?”

“The painting. Who is it?”

You turn to find him staring starry-eyed at your most recent project, hanging above your couch.

“Oh, that. Moi.”

“Who?”

“Me, dummy.”

“You? You paint?” He’s looking at you, eyes wide and curious.

“Yeah, if you can call it that.”

“You can definitely call it that,” he says sternly. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He reaches out as if to touch it, but freezes, fingers held an inch away from the canvas.

“You can touch it, if you want,” you offer.

He shoots you a flabbergasted look, as if to say really?, and you nod at him as you pull out plastic cups from your sparse cupboard. You pour two glasses of wine and hold one out to him as he comes back to you.

“I was always told not to touch the works of art,” he says, taking the glasses out of your hand and setting them down on the counter. “But this just makes the experience all the more memorable.”

You hiccup at his attempt at dirty talk, not used to men who know what they want, who are willing to spread their desire so plainly before you.

He kicks apart your legs, pressing a thigh against your heated core. He lowers his lips just enough that they almost brush up against yours.

“May I?” he breathes against you. You nod and suddenly he’s captured you in a kiss, the plush of his lips moving heatedly against you. You wrap your arms around his neck and he sighs at your touch. When you break apart, his eyes dark with lust and your breath quickening in your chest, you don’t hesitate to take his hand and lead him to the bedroom.

Before you can step inside, he swings you around and picks you up. Your legs wrap around his waist and you can feel his length pressed hard against you. He backs you against the doorframe, your spine hitting the wood—but you don’t even notice it. All you can feel is the way his cock is jutting against your clit.

“Look at you, grinding yourself against me.”

You groan as he thrusts his clothed cock against you.

“Bed. Now,” you demand.

He walks towards the bed, still holding you, still kissing you, until his knees hit the mattress. And then his grip is loosening and you’re thrown onto the soft surface of the bed, a gasp rushing through your lungs. You watch as he pulls his shirt off, revealing a toned chest. You didn’t think the man in front of you could get any hotter, but as he crawls up the bed to hover over you, you’re proven wrong.

“Please, god, fuck me,” you groan as he kisses you.

It’s all he needs to hear.

The next morning you wake to an unfamiliar arm wrapped around your waist and morning breath tickling your ear. You smile as the details of last night come flooding back.

“Morning,” you grumble, feeling the man shift behind you.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he replies, a heavenly rasp edging his voice.

His hand comes to trace your waist and you let out a quiet moan, your senses softened by sleep. A smile flickers across your lips as his hand dips lower, casting warmth over your hips, your pelvic bone, and finally, your lower lips as his hands explore your body.

“You’re so wet I could just slip right into you, no problem,” he says as he runs his finger along your slick folds. You twist yourself around so you’re on your back now with Jin pressed against your side. Without breaking eye contact, you reach down with one hand to wrap around his length. With your other hand, you grab his hips, pulling him towards you—he takes the cue and straddles you, his hands coming down on either side of your head. You pull him closer so that the head of his cock is pressed against your entrance. “Now?” he asks.

“Now,” you reply.

Despite your wetness and the stretch from last night, he’s still a tight fit as he slides into you. A delightful ache threads through your belly and you arch your back to better accommodate him.

“God, how are you this perfect?” he groans once he’s buried entirely within your walls. He settles his weight against you, giving you a moment to adjust to his girth. “What would it take to get you like this again?”

“Get me into the Whitney,” you joke.

“Done.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. “You’re hysterical.”

“I’m not joking.”

You search his expression for any sign of a joke, but you find none. “Wh-what?” you fumble.

“I’m serious.”

His gaze is calm and collected as if he had just agreed to buy you breakfast—not kickstart your art career.

“Do you not know who I am?”

“Why the fuck would I know who you are?”

His eyes widen for a moment before he breaks out in laughter.

“Oh, well then, don’t worry about it.”

As his chest shakes as he chuckles against you, you’re reminded of your current position. You look down to where your bodies are joined, his cock hard and not even fully sheathed within you.

“You’re not, like, some kind of serial killer right?”

“Uh, no.”

“Okay, well then I literally couldn’t care less who you are.” He smirks at you and you pout. “Can you please just fuck me now?”

He chuckles. “It seems you have to keep asking me for that.” He thrusts into you with enough force that your body slides several inches up the mattress and the two of you groan as you adjust to his girth. He relishes in the tight throbbing of your cunt. and he relishes in the tight throbbing of your cunt.

He fucks you slow and hard, each thrust slamming into your body, making your toes curl and your back arch. You both come quickly, relishing in the feeling of one another and the pleasure rippling across each other’s face.

“I’ll be honest,” you say, as you pull your shirt over your head. “I kinda liked it when you pushed me around last night. We should do that again.”

“After breakfast though?”

“After breakfast.”

A month later, you had been scrolling through your email when you saw a message from an unknown sender.

Subject : Acceptance to Whitney Museum of American Art.

————————————————————-

Thank you so much for your submission to our open call for pieces exploring “identity and landscape.” We are thrilled to inform you that your art has been accepted by our committee and will be displayed in our upcoming exhibit. Your piece explores these themes in a manner that took the committee’s breath away…

Your phone slips out of your grasp and drops to the floor, cracking the screen in the process.

You’d been submitting your art to them for years, and yet why was it that only after that strange comment Jin had made that you got in? Could it be more than just a coincidence?

The rest of the day is filled with half blossoming excitement and half mortification. Had Jin done this for you? You had been frequenting the museum since before you could hold a paintbrush, and trying to get into their gallery since you began painting professionally—but then all of a sudden as soon as you meet this mysterious stranger, your dream was placed right into your hands.

Three days later, you’re standing in front of the biggest art event you’ve ever been invited to, staring at a very large, very expensive banner that features none other than Jin.

CURATOR OF THE YEAR, the text reads.

Oh. Oh.

It all makes sense. Do you not know who I am? he had asked. You should have known. His name was plastered on every major art exhibit in this city. You had heard about him a thousand times before, but never even thought to connect the dots between the Kim Seokjin who visited your apartment several times a week and reorganized your fridge and the Kim Seokjin. He was a curator, but more than that he was a mentor of sorts. His approach to work was one of a kind: he led the artists he took under his wing with a gentle, guiding touch. Instead of shackling them into contracts or monetary and social debt like others in his position did, he gave them the tools they needed and allowed them the space and support they required to flourish on their own. This kind of business structure not only led to artists all over the world adoring him, but came back to repay him a thousand times over.

You never got into the Whitney on your own merit, you think. It was all Jin’s doing.

After you collect your jaw off the floor and enter the building, you almost immediately spot Jin.

Taking a deep breath to calm the swirling emotions in your belly and mustering all the courage you had, you tuck your painting underneath your arm and stomped up to him.

He’s standing, admiring a large mural. His face is painted in contemplation. For whatever reason, it reminds you of the feeling of standing in a spring clearing, in the middle of nowhere, letting a gentle breeze wash over you. You shove that feeling away as you stride up to him, stopping a foot or two behind him.

“Jin?”

“Hm—?” Jin spins on his heel. “Oh, what a pleasant surprise.” His eyes light up. “I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days, I was worried something was wrong.”

“I got into the Whitney.”

“Wait, what? That’s amazing!”

“And I figured out who you are.”

His eyes widen.

“Before anything else, I wanted to thank you for your help. I…” You shake your head, trying to wrap your mind around what’s just happened. “I’m not really sure how to thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do anything.”

“I’ve been submitting to the Whitney for years and I’ve never even gotten a rejection email from them. And then I met you, and—and then it’s done. I’m in.” You look to him for an explanation.

“Okay, I admit,” Jin says, running a hand through his hair. “I put in a good word for you. But I did nothing more than mention to the board that I had seen your art and that I was very impressed by it.”

“That’s too much,” you frown.

“It’s not. It literally took thirty seconds of my time. And I did it because I genuinely believe in the vision of your projects.”

“If they believed in the vision of my projects, they would have accepted them without your name attached to it,” you snap.

“I—I’m sorry,” he says, looking down. “I didn’t realize it would upset you. I thought it would make you happy.”

You sigh, putting your hand on his arm. You only speak when he looks at you. “I’m upset, but I’m also really excited. I just—I want to do this on my own. I don’t want it to because of someone’s name. I want it to be because of my work. And I know that’s romantic and maybe not super realistic, but I need you to understand that that’s what I want.” You take a deep breath before continuing and he slips his hand into yours. “And more than that, I want to make it clear that I’m not just seeing you because of your status.”

“I understand,” he says softly, squeezing your hand. “So you’re seeing me now?”

You flush at your slip of tongue.

“I-I mean—”

“I’d like to see you,” he says. “If you’ll have me.”

Seokjin quickly became a constant fixture in your life. While he stopped involving himself in your work (and immediately after your conversation in the gallery, had quickly excused himself to make several calls to call off different projects and potential buyers) he did insist on buying your art supplies, moving you into a larger studio, and helping you work through the complicated process of finding grants to apply for. And of course, Jin was always ready to take care of your other, ahem, needs as well.

Your relationship quickly developed. You talked about the ins and outs of sex and your roles in the bedroom, but somehow never seemed to move the conversation about what you were to each other outside of your sheets—or the closet in the gallery, or the bathroom of your now-favorite bar.

PRESENT DAY

Jin sets his half-full glass down to make his way over to you. As he stands from the bar, an arm slides into his elbow, forcing him to turn away from you.

Your heart thrums in your chest as you stood at the top of the marble stairs, looking down into the outdoor amphitheater where tonight’s gala was being hosted.

You had arrived solo on your own instances. Even after a year together, you were still hesitant to show up as Seokjin’s date, knowing you were more likely to garner the title “girlfriend” than “artist.” Still, the thought of seeing Seokjin sent goosebumps chasing down your skin and you smiled softly to yourself as you searched the crowd for the tall man. You had come straight from your studio and there was still paint and paper mache stuck beneath your fingernails, a fact that didn’t quite fit into the posh environment you were in, but one that made you feel grounded nonetheless.

"Hello, darling," a deep voice sings into your ear. "You're looking particularly ravishing tonight."

You turn, expecting to see Seokjin. Instead, a strapping young man, unfamiliar but recognizable to you, stands in his place.

"Jeon Jungkook," you address the famous photographer as he takes your hand and presses a kiss to it. You suppress the urge to grimace as his lips meet your skin. The young man is undoubtedly handsome—there's no denying it—and you shyly look down as his eyes rove over you like you are a piece of art to be appraised.

"I've seen you at these events for quite a while now."

"Have you now?"

"Always on Mr. Kim's arm, too. Don't you think he's a little... maturefor you?"

It’s not like we’re together, you want to respond, but you hold your tongue. There was only a seven year age gap between you and Soekjin. And yet, because he carried himself with such discipline and stature, this was a constant question you had to navigate whether it came up in terms of your relationship with, working or otherwise.

“Speaking of Mr. Kim, have you seen him anywhere?” you ask, smiling tightly.

Jungkook takes your arm and turns you, pointing through the crowd.

There he is. Jin is dressed impeccably in a light-colored suit, the cut accenting his tall frame, broad shoulders, and narrow waist. You smile upon seeing him and wave, but he doesn’t see you.

There’s a flash of blonde hair and suddenly you realize what’s occupying Jin’s attentions.

You frown as you watch the woman's arm snake around Jin's. Tonight was supposed to have been a chance for the two of you to spend some quality time together, surrounded by beautiful art and artists, to see each other without interruption — but then again maybe a gala wasn't the best choice for quality time.

"There's something about you," Jungkook muses, oblivious to your distraction. "A light in your eye. Passion. You know, I would love to photograph you some time."

You glance over Jungkook's shoulder to see the woman with her hand gripping Jin's bicep, obviously trying to capture and hold his attention. And yet Jin's gaze is fixed on you. You meet his eyes, only to let a ghost of a smirk dash across your lips, before returning your focus to Jungkook. Even though you know Jin’s attention is only focused on you, you figure you might have some fun with the current situation.

"Oh really?" you say, blinking up at him flirtatiously. "And how would you have me?"

Jeon Jungkook was known for his abstract and mythological concepts. His photos were stunning, portraying story and eroticism at their most intellectual and beautiful.

"Aphrodite. No doubt."

Original, you think, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Hm," you hum, as if mulling it over. "Tell me more." Your switch from professional to outrightly coquettish startles him and he stumbles over his words for a moment before regaining his composure and leaning in.

"Pink lighting. Texture? Hm, dove wings. I've been playing with fabric lately—" Jungkook falls into the description of his concept, flowing so quickly through the smallest of details, almost as if he's thought this through before, specifically for you. Instead of listening, you watch Jin out of your peripheral vision. "I can almost imagine the magazine spread now."

Your attention snaps back to the young man in front of you and as an idea flashes across your mind, you do your best not to giggle and to remain serious. "You know, I would love to be spread out for you." You smile innocently and Jungkook gulps.

"I, ah—” Jungkook is stopped mid sentence as a hand is clapped on his shoulder.

"Jeon," Seokjin nods at the younger man, a stiff smile painting his face. "I see you've met my—" Your eyebrows shoot up at the slip, but Jin quickly catches himself. "YN. One of the best painters I know."

Jungkook scoffs. “Uh, yeah, obviously.” When he looks up to find you and Jin staring confusedly at him, he clears his throat. “I mean—what I meant to say is her talent is underrated. Which you probably already know.” He smiles sheepishly.

“Alright, then,” Jin says.

“Aw, thanks, Jungkookie,” you say, swatting his shoulder and you watch as the young man flushes while Jin’s brow raises in question at the use of the pet name.

“Drinks?” Jin says, breaking the quickly rising tension between the three of you. Taking your elbow he leads you towards the bar and Jungkook quickly trots behind. He orders another scotch and you shake your head, “Nothing for me.” As Jungkook leans over the bar, Jin steps behind you, his hand coming to rest gently on your waist.

“Behave,” he whispers.

“Hm?” you hum innocently, brushing your hair over your shoulders.

“At this rate, you’re asking to be punished,” Jin growls.

You smile sweetly up at him, pinching his cheek playfully before realizing where you are and who might see. You quickly snatch your hand back, hoping no one saw.

Jungkook turns back with a martini in hand. Interesting choice, you think.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” Jungkook asks you.

“She already said she didn’t want anything.” Jin answers for you.

“I can speak for myself, thank you very much,” you cut in, crossing your arms. “But no, maybe later.”

A long moment of silence hangs between the three of you.

“Well, don’t mind me then. I have a couple of people I need to speak with.” Jin nods at the two of you and turns on his heel. You watch his tall frame, tracking where he’s going. The game is on.

It seems as the night drags on, Jin is purposefully ignoring you, knowing it’ll rile you up just enough. He continues to engage with artists and experts from all over the globe and Jungkook hangs at your side. Beyond the awkward flirtation he keeps throwing your way—which you don’t blame him for, considering you keep egging him on—he’s quite an intelligent young man with a vision.

After half an hour of Jin’s lack of presence, you’re bored and tired. The two of you wander around the gala, looking at the art pieces. When you see Jin hovering near one in the corner, you gently guide Jungkook over. As you approach, you realize why Jin has been spending so much time over here.

The eight by ten piece that you had sold to an anonymous buyer last week is hanging on the wall. The bright oranges and deep blues seem to shimmer and swim within the space compared to the crystal, silver, and gold pieces that pepper the event tonight.

“This is yours, right?” Jungkook asks. “I’d recognize the style anywhere.”

“Uh, yeah, I just didn’t expect it to be here. I sold it to an anonymous buyer last week. I have no idea how it got here.”

Jungkook looks confusedly at you. “Hm. Weird.”

You stare blankly at your own art for a while, puzzling over how it could have gotten to this level of a gala. The buyer from last week had said nothing about the gala. But here it is in front of you, big and commanding—and marked with a $500,000 price tag? The proceeds of tonight’s event were going directly to charity and still your mouth hangs open as you ogle the string of zeros in front of you.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?” Jungkook asks, breaking through your reverie. “I don’t mind getting it for you.”

“That’s so kind of you,” you smile, knowing that tonight’s event hosts an open bar. At that moment you notice Jin’s gaze finally, finallyresting on you. “Actually, your drink is looking pretty good to me right now.” You take a step closer to Jungkook, meeting his gaze and resting one of your hands gently on his elbow. He shudders under your touch. As much as he puts on a confident front, you know your forwardness unravels him just enough. Without breaking eye contact, you reach into his martini glass and pull out a green olive. Opening your mouth slowly, you purse your lips around the round fruit before sucking it into your mouth. You open your mouth just enough for Jungkook to see how it rests on your tongue.

Jungkook’s jaw is hanging open.

“Oh my god.”

Suddenly, a hand is clasped onto Jungkook’s shoulder. He spins around to see a towering Jin. Jin’s features are relaxed and calm, but you catch the hard edge in his tone, even as it slips past Jungkook’s awareness.

“Jeon, I was just talking to an up-and-coming dancer earlier tonight. He’s looking to partner with a photographer for a project. I mentioned your work to him and he would love to talk to you.” Jin turns Jungkook to point to a handsome man standing across the room, a sun-filled smile dancing across his lips.

“Wait—really?” Jungkook looks flabbergasted.

“Of course, I admire your work,” Jin says.

“Wow, thank you. I really appreciate it.” He reaches out to shake Jin’s hand. “Thank you so much, sir.” A smirk threatens to break Jin’s calm demeanor.

“Anytime.”

Jungkook turns to walk towards the dancer but spins back towards you. “Don’t, uh, don’t go anywhere, yeah?”

“Sure.”

Once Jungkook is out of range of hearing, Jin steps closer to you. "Upstairs. Now."

Because tonight's gala was in part hosted by Seokjin and his company, it took place in the courtyard of one of Seokjin's highrises.

With the ghost of a smirk playing on your features, you turn on your heel, head held high, and make your way to the elevators.

It’s just like him to make you wait.

Twenty minutes after you arrived in the penthouse apartment, Jin was nowhere to be seen. So you kick your heels off and make your way to the fridge, finding an open bottle of your favorite wine that he kept in stock just for you. You pour yourself a glass and make your way to the gigantic kitchen island, leaning over it and scrolling through your phone. You know Jin would expect you to be waiting ready and in position for him, but tonight you feel like pushing the limits.

A gentle ding echoes through the living room. You click your phone off and look up just in time to see the silver door of the elevator slide shut behind him.

Seokjin runs a hand through his hair, loosening the strands from his perfect slicked-back look. You nearly salivate at the sight of him unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt, even as your heart beats like it is ready to jump straight out of your chest.

You gulp as his eyes land on you. Finally.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” you say.

“Have I?”

“Are you punishing me?”

“You won’t need to ask me if I’m punishing you when I’m punishing you. You’ll know.” Despite the coldness of his words, there’s a playful glint in his eyes. You know his anger is for show and not genuine. The direction you're headed is a space the two of you have carefully mapped out, experimented with, and discussed over the course of your relationship. When he slips into this role, it's for both of your pleasure, and never as an outlet for his anger. "So no, I'm not. At least, not yet."

"Jin—" you say.

"Sir," Jin corrects.

"—Sir," you repeat, standing up from the island and walking slowly towards him. You bat your eyes and saunter over to him, pressing yourself against his chest as you take one of his hands and guide it under your dress. His eyes widen when he realizes you're not wearing any underwear.

"God, you're wet."

"I wanna cum," you state matter of factly. You thought your directness might startle him, but instead, his composure remains unaffected.

"You misbehaved all night long," Jin murmurs in your ear. "But maybe if you're a good girl for me and take your punishment, we can talk about you cumming."

And just like that, his hand is gone.

"Are you gonna be good?"

You don’t respond. Instead, you smile sweetly at him. You meet his gaze but don’t move. He cocks an eyebrow and pulls you tight against him with one hand as he pinches your chin with the other.

"You thought you could use this pretty little costume of innocence,” he says as he plays with the sleeve of your dress, a sneer painting his face. “Dressed all in white, and so elegant too. You thought you could hide the whore you are beneath a dress like this?"

His grip on your hips tightens as he pushes you forward, turning you forcibly. It shocks the breath out of your lungs. He pulls you back, your ass flush against his hard but clothed cock. His hands grab your shoulders, steadying you.

"I'd like to fuck you in one of these cute little outfits sometime. But not tonight. Tonight I want you entirely bare." The next thing you know, the sound of ripping fabric fills the space and your dress falls down in shreds at your feet.

"My-my dress," you gasp.

"A shame.” He feigns a pout. “You looked so good in it. But you look even better like this."

It briefly flashes through your mind that you're not sure how you're going to be able to leave, as you hadn't brought a change of clothes—and then that concern is quickly replaced by the confusion as he bends down to examine you.

"When was the last time you touched yourself?" Jin asks as he runs a finger over your slit. You shudder at the sensation.

"You were the last one to touch me."

“So you’re telling me you’re ready to flirt with any man who approaches you, make him think you’re gonna let him fuck you, but then it’s all for show?” He slips a single finger into your cunt. “What a tease.”

“For you,” you gasp as he hooks his finger and hits a particularly sensitive spot. “I would never.”

“Never what?”

“Never fuck another man.”

“Your actions tonight tell me something else.”

Your brow furrows as Jin adds a second finger.

“I-I just wanted you to pay attention.”

"That’s all you wanted, hm, little one? My attention?"

"Yes, sir," you mumble back.

"Good. You have it." He pulls his fingers from your dripping entrance and stands.

Your brows furrowed in frustration. "I want more," you say.

"And I want you to behave yourself when we're out in public together. It seems like neither of us is getting what we want, hm?" When you pout, he chuckles. "But I bet you can make it up to me. Take your punishment like a good girl. And we'll see if we can't both have what we want." You nod, eagerly. "Go bend over the couch and wait for me."

You quickly lay yourself over the arm of the black leather couch that stretches across the sprawling living room. Jin disappears into one of the back rooms for a moment, but you soon hear his footsteps echoing on the marble, approaching you from behind. He rests a hand on your bare ass, roving over it in slow circles before coming to kneel down beside you.

"Safeword?"

"Peaches."

His eyes search yours—checking, making sure you're really okay with this before he continues, that same awareness never leaving his eyes. "Good. You'll use it if you need to."

You nod.

“You know why I have to do this right?” Jin asks, his voice calm and clear as he stands and steps out of your line of vision. You can hear the clink of a belt buckle as he doubles it up in his hand.

“I disobeyed you.”

“And?”

“I didn’t listen when you asked me to stop.”

“And what exactly did I want you to stop doing?”

“Flirting with him.”

“Who? Say his name.”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

He chuckles. “I want that to be the last time his name leaves your lips tonight. Understood?” You nod, wholeheartedly. “The poor boy. You left him so hard and eager for your pretty little cunt. I bet he thought he was going to get to fuck you after all that teasing. Tell me, is that what you wanted him to think?”

“Yes,” you admit.

“And yet, after all that work and you were so quick to drop him just for me. I’m going to spank you and you’re going to take it like a good girl. Seven hits. Count for me.”

That’s when the first hit lands. The air in your lungs whooshes out of you in shock. After the initial pain, a soft warmth spreads through your cheeks.

“I said, count.”

“One,” you say, your voice strong.

The belt comes down on you a second time, cracking against your other cheek. “Two.” Your nails dig into the leather of the couch and his hand spreads across your ass, soothing over the spots where he’s hit you. The feeling of his fingertips against your skin brings coolness to the surface of your burning skin and the contrast sends arousal spiraling through your core.

“Good girl.”

Smack.

“Three.”

On four, you realize you’ve been holding your breath. The number comes out as a gasp, a puff of air and you realize you’ve been holding something else in. Shame. Guilt. Upset.

On five, you let out a particularly loud yelp, your cry of pain mixing with emotion and cutting through your pronunciation. Jin's hand immediately brushes across your sore ass to smooth over the most recent hit.

"Color?" he says softly.

"Green—green, please, keep going," you pant, tears threatening your eyes.

“Only two left.”

On six, you feel something split within you. You know it isn’t just about tonight, about your disobedience or your flirtations with a strange man. It’s about holding back. It’s about letting your brattiness build a wall between the warm thing that’s been building in your chest and Jin, the man who keeps showing up for you.

“Seven! M’ sorry!” you call out as seven comes down on your ass. The wall splits open within you, sending a flood of emotion and endorphins through your body. All you want is to fall into this sensation. The one where he’s here for you, and you can let him be here for you.

Jin smoothes his hands over your ass one final time. You wince slightly, knowing it’s going to be painful to sit for the next couple of days. And yet all you can feel is a golden glow, pulsing through your veins, tinting your perception. Your body feels lighter, the space around you more spacious, and the look in Jin’s eyes is glowing.

Jin pulls you up to your feet, searching your eyes to make sure you’re alright. He finds a strange, new warmth in them, one that spills out completely for him. And something close to daze.

“No hands.” Still, you can’t help but reach out to him, lacing your fingers into the front of his shirt. “I said, no hands.” You refuse to remove them. He’s suddenly stepping back from you. "You can't seem to listen, can you, little one? Hands behind your back." You stare blankly at him. "I won't ask you twice."

You bring your hands behind you, clasping one hand around a wrist. He circles around you until he's out of your range of sight. You hear the tearing of fabric and then the cool brush of what you assume must be your dress wrapping around your wrists as Jin expertly ties them together. When the knot is tight and secure, he walks slowly back around you so you're face to face.

"Kneel."

Your knees hit the cold marble floor.

"Suck my cock."

"But—" You attempt to protest, your hands still tied behind your back. Your voice trails off as his eyes harden.

His belt is already open and you take the cold metal in your mouth, leaning your head back as you pull it out of the loops. It's an awkward angle, but you do your best and soon it falls to the floor with a clink. You glance up at him, searching for validation. His gaze is still hard, but there's a glimmer of a smile—pride? delight?—hanging at the corner of his lips.

"Keep going."

Leaning forward, you nudge your nose along the hard length sporting in his pants. His arousal is more than apparent through the fabric of his pants: thick, and long, and impossibly hard. Without breaking eye contact, you stick your tongue out of your mouth and slowly trace it up the length of his covered cock.

His hand tightens in your hair and you yelp as pain shoots into your scalp.

"I asked you to do something. Are you getting distracted?" What was once painful has quickly turned into a delicious pleasure as your face flushes, the hand in your hair teasing tingles down your spine. "Answer me." He grips your hair tighter, forcing your head back even further.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

He releases his grasp just enough that you're able to lean back to the tenting bulge in his pants, but still does not release you fully.

Carefully, you suck the button of his slacks into your mouth, expertly sucking and tonguing the cold metal until you feel it slip through the hole, before moving down to pull the zipper between your teeth and tug it all the way down. You gasp as you realize he's not wearing underwear and your cunt contracts around nothing. You're face to face with his bare cock.

"Sir, may I?"

He nods and you immediately lean forward to lick a broad, wet stripe up from the base of his cock to the tip. Without the use of your hands, you find yourself relying on the movements of your upper body and your mouth to pleasure him.

Slowly, you lick around the angry red head of his cock, teasing a light gasp from him. You continue to do this until you know he’s just on the edge of frustration and before he can say anything, you purse your lips around him.

As you take him into your mouth, you’re particularly aware of the remainder that you’re unable to fit. Usually, you would wrap one or both of your hands around him, stroking him where you couldn’t reach. But now that’s inaccessible to you.

Relaxing your throat, you attempt to take him deeper but choke at the sensation of his thick head hitting the back of your throat.

"You're so good at this, almost as if you were made to have your mouth stuffed with cock."

His praise urges you to take him deeper and press past the urge to gag. Taking a deep breath, you edge forward, allowing him to slip into the tight confines of your throat. He hiss at this and his hands tighten in your hair, this being the first time you’ve deepthroated him. Tears well in your eyes, blurring your vision as you continue to ease him deeper within you.

He begins thrusting into your throat. If you could reach up to wrap your hand around your throat, you would feel the protrusion of his cock pressing forward through the skin of your throat, visible and bulging.

You choke around him and he audibly groans at the sensation.

Jin looks down to find tears streaming out of your face, chin wet with drool. The sight of you, so lost in your actions, strikes something in his chest. As you meet his gaze, your lips so pink and pouted around him, the glaze in your eyes filled with adoration, his hips buck and he thrusts into your throat.

“I’m gonna cum,” he growls. “And I want you to swallow every last drop of it.”

He grabs your head as he fucks up into you one last time, pushing your nose against his pubic bone. You can feel his cum, hot and bitter, sliding down your throat. He doesn’t release you until he’s done. Finally, he pulls you off of him, your lips releasing from his spent cock with a pop.

Air comes rushing back into your lungs, replacing the black spots that had started to pepper your vision with starshine as you look up at Jin clearly. His forehead is shining with sweat and his cheeks are flushed in pleasure. He’s never prettier than he is now, spent with passion.

Jin quickly regains his wits as he pulls you up and takes his thumb to wipe the combination of drool and cum from your chin.

Something gleams in his eye.

“Up against the window,” he orders.

“Wha—”

Before you can finish your sentence, Jin is walking you backward until your back hits the cold glass. You gasp at the sensation of your heated ass cheeks mixed with the cold spark of the smooth surface.

With your back against the glass, hips pushed towards him again, he kisses languidly up your stomach. There is a gentleness in the way his lips whispered against your skin that shoots something through your chest and leaves you wanting more of whatever it is.

You gather yourself enough to look down and see his plump lips pursed around a nipple. As your eyes meet, he bites down around the swollen bud, and you whimper. He continues to bite and suck your breasts, drawing increasingly lewd sounds from you.

But then his lips leave the tender flesh of your breasts and kiss their way upwards to your neck. For a moment you think his gentle side might return, only to squirm beneath him as his teeth graze the delicate skin. Before you know it, his lips are pressed against you and he's sucking the skin in between his teeth.

"You'll leave a mark!" You exclaim, bound hands struggling to escape from where they’re still tied behind your back But he's quicker and stronger than you and he holds you down, stilling your movements, before continuing to suck and bite at your neck.

"Good." He moves his mouth to the hollow of your throat, sucking a bruise to the surface of your skin. "I want everyone to know exactly who you belong to. I want you to wear me, so no one even has a doubt in their mind whose slut you are."

As you look down, you realize he’s hard again. It’s not uncommon for him to be up and ready to go for a second or third round. His cock is red and rock-hard, and as he realizes what you’re looking at he smirks.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes, sir.” You swallow. “Want it—want you.”

“Do you think you’ve earned it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You took your punishment well,” he muses languidly. “And you sucked Sir off so well, too.”

He drags a finger through your slit, forcing you to buck up into his touch.

“Please—” you gasp.

“Since you asked so nicely—” abruptly, he spins you around so you’re facing towards the window. “I’ll fuck you. But I want everyone to see exactly the kind of slut you are for this cock.”

“But—”

“Color?”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. From this far up, you can see the gala, still in full swing. Even from this height, you can see their individual faces and you know if any of the people in sparkling gowns and tailored suits were to look up and squint, they would see your fucked-out form pressed against the window of the penthouse, your hands bound behind your back thrusting your chest forward obscenely. The thought sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.

“Green.”

“Good.”

At that, you feel the head of his cock brush against your dripping entrance. Jin looks down to see his huge cock resting against your red cheeks. You look tiny compared to him, and the sight makes him even harder. As he grips the base of his dick, he pushes gently against your entrance, the bulbous head slipping inside. His cock twitches as he hears you moan.

Jin is undoubtedly the biggest cock you’ve ever fucked. Even after months of him filling you, he was still a tight fit. While you often used lube to ease the slide in, tonight you were dripping wet, your arousal coating your swollen lips and beginning to run down your inner thighs. Slowly, he pushes into you. The sensation of being filled, of being stretched by him has you moaning, the sound filling the spacious apartment.

“You’re such a good slut for me, you take this cock so well,” Jin says as he presses the last inch of his length into you.

Kim Seokjin is a man of control. Despite the painful ache in his cock and the burning desire to pound into you, he isn't done drawing out your pleasure. Torturously slow, he slides his cock in and out of your tight cunt, his thick head dragging against your walls. You whine wantonly, pushing back against him.

He stops.

"Please. Sir," you nearly sob. "Need you."

"And I need you to use your words. This is mine." He reaches down to spread his palm over your sore ass, spreading you even further open for him. The sight of you impaled on his thick cock is one he’ll never get used to. "And I'll do what I want with it."

He can feel you shudder at his words, knowing that his possessiveness affected you just as much as it did him.

"You like that?" he growls. "Knowing you're mine? You're stuffed full of cock and still you want more. What a greedy slut."

"Please, Sir. Need you to fuck me," you beg. Still, Jin makes no indication of moving. "Please. Need you to show them who I belong to."

That does it.

“You. Belong. To. Me.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust, his cock spearing through the tightness of your walls.

“Fuck,” you hiss as he lifts your leg. The head of his cock begins to hit the knot of pleasure that’s tightly wound within your cunt. “Sir, you feel so good.” It’s all you can think about.

“He’s down there, isn’t he?” For a moment you’re not even sure who he’s talking about, so lost in pleasure and the sensations he’s teasing out of your body. “He could look up at any moment and see you like this, tits out, pressed up against the glass, letting me ruin you like this.” You moan at his words. “I bet you would like that, slut.” He punctuates the final word with a particularly hard thrust.

Your pussy clenches around him and he moans as he feels your tight walls grip him tighter.

“I think there’s a part of you that loves the idea of the world watching you get fucked.”

"Gonna—gonna cum," you gasp, your words stuttered out of your mouth by Jin's rough thrusts. "Sir, please, can I come?"

"No."

"Sir, please."

"Did you not hear me?" he growls. "Listen, or I'll stuff that pretty little mouth with something less pleasant than my cock."

You throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut and clenching your abdominal muscles in an attempt to hold back the waves of euphoria that threaten to wash over you any moment now.

“Please, sir, need to come. I’ll do anything.” The tears that have been threatening to run down your face finally spill over as you’re split in pleasure and discomfort. “Please, anything.”

Jin releases your leg with a grunt and pushes your legs together, making it a tighter fit for both of you. With one hand he pushes down on your lower back, arching it for you. His other hand comes to wrap around your bound wrists, using the grip to power his thrusts into you. Somehow the new angle makes him seem even bigger than he already is and you mewl.

“Tell me who you belong to.”

“You, Jin,” you force out, trying to find your words through the pleasure that he’s pounding into you. “Only you.” Too late, you realize that you had used the wrong name for him and you gasp, ready for whatever correction he deems fit for you.

But it seems that’s exactly what he wanted you to say.

“Good girl. Cum. Now.”

As soon as the sound has left his lips your orgasm barrels through you.

“Jin!” you cry. You throw your head back, white overtaking your vision. Your cunt pulses around his hard length, spasming for what feels like minutes. Your breath freezes in your throat as sparks of pleasure flood your body.

Watching you come unraveled around his name is what does it for him. He groans as his orgasm washes over him, sending waves of pleasure throughout his whole body. He shudders against you, releasing ropes of cum into your still-pulsating cunt. You can feel his cock twitch against your oversensitive walls as he empties himself into you. His breath is heavy against your neck as his arms tighten around you. As much as you love the Jin in control, these moments when he releases all pretenses are precious to you.

Even as he stays sheathed within you, you can feel his cum begin to drip out of your cunt, running down your thighs. When he finally pulls out, the mix of your combined orgasms gushes out of you and you frown at the proceeding sensation of emptiness.

As you slump against the window, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure and exhaustion, you feel Jin’s large hands ghost down your arms, releasing the fabring binding your wrists together. When he’s done, his hands come to rest on your hips, turning you as he kneels down in front of you. You gasp as you feel him swipe two of his fingers through the swollen folds of your cunt, as he collects his own cum. The sensation splits you in overwhelm.

"Open," Jin commands, standing up. You open your mouth and he slides the two cum covered fingers past your lips. "Suck." Dutifully, you press your lips around him, swallowing around him until he pulls out, not a drop of cum left on his fingers. His eyes burn in desire, and if it weren't for the exhaustion apparent in your posture, you know he would be ready to go for a second round. "Good girl."

You smile softly up at him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He holds you close and the two of you simply breathe together. You feel comforted against his large frame, his breath flowing easily and freely through him, your own body finding solace in the soft rhythm. He holds you like that for what feels like forever before he tips your weight into his body and leads you to the sleek leather couch. There, he sits down, pulling you into his lap. You curl up against his wide chest, nestling your nose into the crook of his neck.

"How are you?" he asks as he brushes the hair out of your eyes.

"Feel so good," you murmur, eyes fluttering shut in the afterglow that radiates throughout your whole body. Every muscle in your body feels warm and stretched.

"Do you want me to bring you to bed?" After all this time, Jin knows how sleepy you get after a scene like this.

"Mm, surprisingly not sleepy. Just... happy."

He holds you for a while, and you bask in the feeling of his arms wrapped securely around you and the light brush of his steady breath against your hair.

“Earlier,” you begin slowly. “You slipped. You started to call me ‘my’—and then you stopped. What were you going to say?”

Jin is quiet and for a moment you wonder if you misspoke.

“Honestly?” he finally says, his voice brushing over you like a soft breeze.

“Honestly,” you repeat, twisting into him to look him in the eyes. There’s something desperately gentle in his gaze. You could fall into it.

“Honestly, I don’t really know where my mind was going in that moment.” He pauses, chewing over his words. “But, I would like to call you mine—in some way.”

“Yours?”

He nods, shyly. “Mine.”

“Sure, I’ll be yours,” you grin, snuggling into his chest.

“Yeah?”

“But only if you’ll be mine, too.”

“I think we can arrange that.”

Seokjin pulls you tighter and just holds you like that for several minutes before he stands up and disappears into the bedroom for a moment. When he returns, he's holding a slim black box, which he hands to you.

"Put this on," he says.

You open the box to reveal a small black number.

"We're going back?" you ask.

"Only to get our winnings," he grins back to you, pushing his hair back again. "And to show everyone just exactly how much I won tonight."

“What do you mean, winnings?”

“I made a purchase tonight.” He presses a kiss to your lips. “The most colorful piece in the whole building.”

“—You?”

Jin smirks and comes behind you to zip up the beautiful piece of clothing. He traces over the bruises blossoming on your shoulders and neck with a gentle touch before pressing his lips to each and every one of them.

"Only if you're comfortable," he adds softly as you melt against his touch. There's no doubt you're tired. But still, the idea of finally walking into an event with Jin—no pretenses, no questions, no secrets—just together, has a thrill sparking in your core.

“I’m always comfortable with you,” you grin, taking his hand and leading him to the elevators.

|| masterlist || moodboard || ao3 ||

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