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#idk why my brain wants to drag this out so long
selfproclaimedunicorn · 11 months
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It took me, like, one hour to translate two (2) lines of dialog in my fic into High Valyrian. I'm not okay, if anyone was wondering ✌️
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covetyou · 1 month
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stupid cupid
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected P in V, a few ass slaps, sex toys (butt plug and a dp dildo), anal play, anal sex (with a dildo), double penetration, creampie, vague fluff and emerging feelings (gross), the wings stay ON. word count: 5.2k summary: Joel makes a return to your home, this time with another gift to give. Will you be his Valentine?
A/N: he's here. he's back. baubles joel, big bawl joel, the holiday king himself. and yes, yet again something that probably shouldn't be a series is becoming a loose-fit series because I just can't quit.
I guess you can all be my Valentine's if you'd like and we can smooch and hold hands and stuff, idk (I love you 💛) gorgeous V day divider by @saradika-graphics
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You didn't expect to scream the moment you entered your bedroom after a long day at work.
Of course, you had wanted to scream all day. First, when you spent the morning fighting with a piece of software that just did not want to work. Then, when you watched your colleagues trickle out of the building well before 5pm, all on their way to romantic dates, while you were stuck in your seat making up for your - and their - lost time this morning. And when you finally stumbled from the building at 8pm, only to sit in traffic for another fucking hour? You may just have let a furious squeal escape your throat as you gripped the steering wheel.
As you finally pulled into your driveway, the only things on your mind were a hot shower and takeout food.
The first part had gone without a hitch. Mostly.
Stripping off your work clothes before you'd even got to the bathroom, you hadn't noticed a single thing different about your home. As you tossed your clothes into the hamper, nothing was amiss. Stepping under the hot stream of water, you felt totally at peace for the first time that day. There was a kind of serenity to be found in your own bathroom that didn't exist anywhere else. No, nothing was unusual at all.
And then you'd loosely wrapped a towel around you, not bothering to dry yourself, and crossed the short distance across the hall to your bedroom. You weren't to know you never closed the door this morning when you left - that was 14 hours ago, afterall. Sunset had long since been and gone, so how were you to see anything, or anyone, where it shouldn't be until you sleepily flicked the light on after closing the door behind you.
So, naturally, when your brain finally registered DANGER - INTRUDER you screamed, almost dropping your towel in the process.
And that's where you still are, locked to the spot, fight or flight truly fucking off from your mind entirely, as you stare straight ahead.
There's a man on your bed. A very familiar man. His hulking figure splayed across it like some kind of fucking renaissance painting, naked as the day he was born, except for the fairy wings strapped to his back with elastic and... is that a bow and arrow? And a pacifier?
"Santa Joel?"
Joel rolls his eyes, pulling the pacifier from his mouth with a pop.
"I ain't Santa. Does this look like Santa to you?" he says, with a sweeping broad gesture down his body. He decidedly does not look like Santa. You're not sure what he looks like, and you're not sure you care when you can't help but notice he's at half mast already. Dragging your eyes from his crotch, you look at his face, somehow sweet and angelic even with his dick out.
"Okay, well... what are you?"
Looking at you in disbelief, he slaps the pacifier down onto the bed before swinging his legs over the edge to sit upright. Only, now you're not so sure it's a pacifier. It looks like a - but why was he sucking on it?
"Ain't it Valentine's Day? I'm Cupid, stupid."
"Cupid Joel?"
"Cupid Joel. It really that difficult to work out?" With a lopsided grin he picks up the bow, miming shooting you, before resting his elbows on his knees. The soft trickle of water down your body feels more and more like you're melting by the second. A practical stranger like Joel shouldn't have been able to do this to you the first time, but the fact he was here again, charming and suave, despite the nudity and criminal activity, told you all you needed to know. You were painfully and woefully attracted to him and you would do just about anything to have a night with him again.
"Well, Cupid Joel, you broke into my house. Again."
He ignores you, lounging back on your bed and spreading his knees wide, picking up the - yep, that's definitely a butt plug - again and sucking it into his mouth. Removing it with a flourish, he looks you up and down, a question in his eyes before looking to his own cock, now much harder than it was a moment ago.
"Different guy, you said that was Santa Joel." You can see him holding back a laugh, and you'd be tempted to wipe the smirk from his face if you weren't rooted to the spot. "Anyway, that guy told me he didn't see any pictures when he was here, guessed you didn't have a Valentine. Figure everyone deserves some lovin' on the big day," he says with a shrug and a quirk of his mouth. "So, here I am. Your very own Cupid, if you'll have me, 'course. Don't gotta stay, I can leave if you want me to."
You didn't want him to leave. He'd broken into your house again, and you were exhausted, but seeing him lie there, naked in your bed with the evidence of his little dress up game strewn around him, stirred things in you. If he was willing to give you some lovin' then who were you to turn that down. You're only human, after all, and it is Valentine's Day.
So, you do the only logical thing in that moment and drop your towel without another thought.
"'Atta girl," Joel chuckles patting the bed beside him. "C'mere, got you a present."
Incredible, if slightly strange, sex with a stranger, and he bought you a present? Suddenly the day isn't feeling quite as shit as it was an hour ago, and damp and naked, you approach your bed. You're close enough to him now that you can smell him again, that soft oaky smell throwing you back to the twinkling lights of Christmas Eve. You didn't know any more about him now than you did that night, really. Though, truth be told, you hadn't tried too hard to find him. You had a good time, and the soft lit fantasy of Santa Joel was something you enjoyed exactly as it was. Unveil the man, and you threatened to ruin that fantasy. But a night with Cupid Joel? That could be a new fantasy altogether.
"S'not Christmas any more, don't remember ever having to sit on Cupid's knee to get a Valentine," you murmur, sitting back on your heels as Joel's large hand slides up your thigh. You watch as it moves from your knee to your hip and back again, fingers gently teasing your sensitive inner thigh on the way down. The only hands that had touched you since Christmas were your own, though you had spent night after night imagining his all over you. You were starting to think you'd fallen asleep at the wheel and this was all some wonderful stress dream.
But then he presses a soft kiss to your knee, the scratch of his facial hair rubbing just enough to let you know this is all very, very real and you'd very much like more of it.
"Ain't gonna make you sit on my knee for it. Might want you to sit on somethin' else though."
You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Real smooth, Cupid."
And then he's smiling up at you as he leans forward to kiss your thigh, then your belly, pushing you back with one large hand until you're laying beneath him, spread bare and open as he makes his way back down to your thighs.
It's so easy to get lost in it. The soft scratch of the scruff on his chin, rough fingertips moving gently across your thighs, soft lips pressing and sucking delicately on you, catching the last specks of water from your skin with each pass of his mouth. Your eyes drift closed just as his breath ghosts across your mound, another soft kiss soon following, and another, and another.
Until, blissfully, his soft mouth connects with your clit, tongue peaking out to swipe across the sensitive bud. It had been so long since anyone had gone down on you, long before you made the move to Texas last year, you'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Stuttering for a while, you're about to feebly mumble how good it feels, but all thoughts grind to a halt when he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning before softly releasing. You had never had a man moan eating your cunt before, and now here you were, fairly certain angels were real and you'd gone to heaven, taken there by Cupid Joel and his wings.
"You always this late home, or did you have a date that went to shit?" he mumbles around your clit. It's a small sneaky way that he asks, wanting clarification on something he was almost certain of but you had yet to confirm. There were no pictures in your house, but that didn't mean there wasn't anyone in the picture.
Shaking your head, you gasp out a response. "Work - work went to shit. Ohh."
"Bad day?"
"Yeah, it - fuck, Joel."
It's then that you take your first opportunity to look down and see him between your legs. His hair looks even fluffier, his hands pushing your thighs open while his fingers pull you apart at the seams. His eyes closed, lashes fanned against his cheek, tongue softly lapping against your center, gusts of his hot breath billowing against your mound. He's beautiful.
And he's still in the fucking fairy wings.
A laugh primes itself, ready to explode out of you, but another firm lick sends you reeling, head hitting the mattress with a thud. Whatever he's doing to you, whatever this fucking day has done to you, you're going to come, and fast.
"Cu-Cupid Joel. Don't fucking stop."
Joel stops mid-lick, earning a frustrated moan from you, eyes widening from where he looks up between your thighs. "Already?" he asks in disbelief, noticing how quickly your legs and cunt have started to twitch.
"Stupid fucking cupid, don't stop, please."
His mouth finds your clit again and he's devouring you, lapping quickly against your cunt as your squirm into him, hips rocking your cunt against his tongue. Another day you'll wonder if it was his tongue or your movement that got you there, but right now all you know is the thick syrupy feeling in your veins as an orgasm quickly rockets through you, a strangled moan leaving your throat as you fist your sheets in your hands. You've muffled him, your thighs clamping around his head as he pushes further forward, tongue buried in your folds until you can't take it any more and you're desperately pulling away from him.
When you release your grip on his head, he gasps, cursing into the plushness of your thighs. Sitting up, he looks down at you, the bedroom light illuminating him from behind, making the wings glow on his back like your very own heavenly creature.
"Wanna see your present now?"
The fog in your head has barely cleared, your ears still fuzzy as you take in his words. Somehow a tongue on your pussy wasn't your Valentine's gift from Cupid?
"Wha - that wasn't it?"
"Nope."
"Is that it," you say, letting a thread of hope feed into your voice while you nod to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs.
"Not exactly, but you can have that too if you want it, darlin'."
You don't know what you expect, but Joel reaches over and picks the butt plug from where he'd discarded it on your bed earlier, and holds it out to you.
"Don't know if you're into it but," he holds the plug out to you, base first. The pink glass looks so delicate in his fingers, and it takes a twist of his hand for you to see it, but the heart shaped base of the plug soon becomes clear to you, brain foggy as it is, and you laugh, the sound bubbling out of your lips as your head tips back, laughing so hard you can feel your tits shake.
"You had that in your mouth."
Joel shrugs. "Better now than after it's been in your ass."
"Why're you so sure it's goin' into my ass?"
Got him, flashes through your mind when you watch his face drop. You don't let him suffer for long.
"I'm fucking with you. You're tellin' me you broke into my house but didn't go through my shit? I got three in the drawer over there."
"Three?!" he says in faux shock, rolling you over onto your front and grabbing at your ass cheeks. He pulls them apart, the cool glass in his hand pushing into your cheek as he tugs you open.
You shriek, swatting behind you as you laugh again. "Joel- what the fuck are you doing!?"
"Checkin' where you keep these three assholes."
"I'm lookin' at one asshole right now."
Now it's his turn to laugh, a deep rich sound that has your toes curling and your pulse sky rocketing, pulling you out of it with a gasp when he slaps a hand down on your ass only to watch it ripple with the impact.
"So, do you want it in?"
"Mhm, I have lube in the bedside table."
A rummage later, you wait, kicking your feet in the air, resting your chin in the cup of your palm. When he turns again, he sees you waving your ass from side to side, ready for him. Slick is coating your pussy, your upper thighs glossy with it too.
"That a present all for me?"
Pulling your cheeks apart again, he kisses each one, lightly nipping on the soft flesh as he does. And then, without much warning, he burries his tongue between your spread legs, licking a thick stripe from your clit to your asshole, groaning with every lick over your tight ring. Fisting the sheets, you press your face into the mattress. If he's going to keep doing this before he even fucks you, you're going to come again and fall asleep before he can get inside you.
"I thought this was a present for me, you're acting mighty excited back there."
"It is. Never said I wouldn't get anythin' outta it though."
A cool trickle of lube drizzles into your crack, quickly spread by Joel's large finger. He teases for a moment, circling your tight hole a little before gently pushing in.
"Fuck."
Moaning in agreement, you almost speak to agree, but then his finger is gently fucking your asshole and all words fail you. Coming just a moment ago did nothing to stop the need you had for this man, the feeling in your core growing tenfold as each moment passed.
"Fuck, Joel, put it in my ass and fuck me already."
The strangled noise from behind you startles you, and you look back for a second to see Joel's eyes pinched together and his head thrown back as his hand grips tightly around the base of his cock, wings falling forward over his shoulders as he desperately tries to relax himself.
"You can't say shit like that to me, darlin'."
"Then stick it in me, stupid."
Fingers slick with lube, he strokes the plug, before sliding the cold tip across your hole.
"Wanted go slow. Wanna watch you take it."
With a soft push, he presses the tip forward, watching as your hole accepts the cold tip with ease. This was always something you loved, even playing with your plugs by yourself when the feeling took you. It had been too long since anyone else had played with your ass, and you can't say you were too mad about Joel being the first to touch you there in so long.
The stretch is soft, and soon the bulb of the head pushes past your tight ring, making Joel hiss behind you as he watches you take it. He fucks you with it once, then twice, before pushing firmly, letting your ass take the entire length of the plug. Twisting it, he sits the heart upright, before leaning forward to kiss it. It's not often you get a man's face buried in your ass so, figuring it's karmic justice for the species, you push back into him, holding back a laugh when a small oomph escapes his lips when your ass collides with his face.
"Gonna tell Santa Joel you did that. No nice list for you."
"Then if I'm already on the naughty list, fuck me already. You promised me lovin'."
Wiggling your ass, you arch your back to expose your pussy to him even more. He hasn't so much as put a finger in you yet, and part of you is glad for it. You want to feel his cock pull you apart as it fills you, pushing past the ridge of the plug lodged in your ass. You want to feel stretched and full and ruined.
Joel seems to be on the same page, shuffling forward, dick in hand, sliding the tip through your slick folds. Catching on your entrance, he runs the tip of his dick across the plug where it's nestled inside you before pushing down, slipping into your empty hole.
And fuck is it tight. If it feels this good for you, the half-filled and stretched wide feeling of his cock in one hole and the plug in the other, you wonder how it must feel on his dick. You're wet, dripping really, soaking his cock and letting him in with ease, but there's the solid lump of the plug dragging along the top side of his cock as he pushes in.
Deciding he's going too fucking slow, too tentative when all you want is to be filled, you push back. In one swift rock you take him to the root, gasping and hitting the bed with your fists as he bottoms out, his own fingers digging into you flesh harshly.
"Sh-fuck, fuck."
Stopping, you almost pull away, worried you might have hurt him, but his grip stops you. Before you can turn or question him, he's pulling back, slamming in hard again, groaning when you take him completely.
If Santa Joel destroyed you, Cupid Joel is going to wreck you entirely. And you welcome it.
He's fucking you steadily in no time, relishing in the sound of your moans getting higher and higher in pitch with each pound.
Your knees buckle first, planting you face first in your sheets. Joel tries to pull you up, but his own knees are slipping, dragged down by the grip of your cunt on his cock. Giving in, he crowds over you, pumping deep into you despite the tangle of limbs you've became in the last few seconds. Somewhere in the scuffle you've kicked the bow and arrow, listening as they clatter to the floor just as tangled as the two of you are.
He's warm, and sweaty, and heavy above you, holding just enough of his weight on his elbows to let you breathe. Making a few more shallow thrusts, he suddenly stills, nose breathing deep into your hair.
"Shit. Can't come yet. I got one more surprise for you," he pants into your ear, offering you a soft kiss to your shoulder before his weight shifts.
You want to grab him and hold him to you, beg him to come in you already, but he has other ideas and he's pulling out before you can grab him. "Ugh."
"Gimme a sec," he grunts from behind you. "Can't - hmfph - get it over - god damn it - my balls. There. Got it. Snug but, damn, look at that."
Looking behind you, you watch as he sways from side to side, looking down where his cock bobs between his legs. He's mesmerized, and soon so are you.
He's strapped another cock just below his own, the tapered black dildo just shorter than he is. It sits flush to his full balls, anchored to them by a thick ring, another wrapped around his length. Even with the sounds of his struggle, you're amazed he got it on so quickly.
"Don't have to take both but," and he shrugs - fucking shrugs all coy and uncertain as if he hasn't reached into the depths of your brain and pulled out your most desperate fantasy of taking two cocks at once.
"Didn't wanna spook you, but given you like gettin' your asshole played with," he says with a press to the plug still sat in your ass. "Worth finding out if you're into ass fuckin' too."
You were. Fuck yes, you were. You had your own collection of toys and plugs for a reason, but it had been a criminally long time since anyone had really fucked you there. Other than Joel, it had been a criminally long time since anyone had fucked you anywhere.
"If I say yes, what else are you gonna pull out from back there? You got a bag of tricks around here somewhere."
Joel gives you a toothy grin, stroking his hand over his slicked cock before sliding two fingers straight into you. "Tool bag is downstairs, but ain't got anythin' in there I'd like to put in here darlin', don't worry."
Fingers slipping slick and wet inside you, pressing firmly upward with help of the plug still lodged in your ass, you're rendered speechless again. Reaching out for him you hold his hand in place, fucking yourself on his fingers for a moment before reaching further toward him.
Joel gasps when your hand gently cups around his balls, the thick rings of the toy strapped around them making them seem even fuller with the press of the dildo into them. You roll reach one beneath your fingers, catching the dark look in his eyes.
"You like 'em, huh? Know you liked havin' 'em in here."
"Fuck. Thought about it so much since. Dreamed of you coming back to fuck me with them again."
"Tsk, ain't disappointing you, am I?"
"Joel, you have two cocks and you're threatening me with a good time. You couldn't disappoint me right now even if you tried. And you broke into my house. Again. Now, if you don't fuck my ass with either of the cocks you have there soon I'm going to do it myself," you say, fingers stilling on his balls, before you think again and add, "Please."
"Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart. C'mon now, lemme take this out. Can put it back in this needy hole after. That's it."
It's surreal, looking up at him as he gently tugs the plug out of your ass, offering you sweet murmurs of encouragement. You know nothing about him, save for his first name and penchant for dress up games. And yet, the desire you have for him is steadily creeping upward as time ticks on. Truthfully, you didn't even really remember what he looked like when you thought about him, fingers toying with your clit as you came to memories of Christmas eve. Low light and mind melting orgasms will do that to you. All you knew was his voice and the soft filthy way he fucked you. Now, getting a proper look at him without the shield of twinkling lights and that red jacket, you can truly appreciate him. He's fit, though you suspect he's never stepped foot in a gym a day in his life. He's soft too, in the way that strong sturdy things are soft. You want nothing more than to pull him into you, to press his softness against your own as he ruts into your holes, but that's decidedly not what this is. Whatever this is, between the mild crime and fucking, it isn't that sort of soft sweet thing.
You don't know how he's going to do it, which cock is going to take which hole, but you decide you don't care when he's leaning over you to press a soft kiss to your lips. When your legs wrap around him of their own accord it's all but decided, and he takes his cock in hand - his real one - and lines up with your dripping slit, pushing in slightly before fumbling below for the other. It takes a moment - the lubed up dildo slipping from his grasp as he huffs and tries, but fails, to slot it against you. Briefly tangling your fingers with his, you take over, positioning the toy at your ass, feeling it slip in a little already as he grinds his hips forward, desperate to be balls deep in you again. With both cocks poised and ready you moan, quivering and clamping your eyes shut at merely the thought of being fucked in both holes at once.
With one more press forward, Joel slides in, the glide of lube easing the dildo into your as as his cock reclaims it's place inside your pussy.
And fuck, you have never been so full, and Joel has never fucked something so damn tight. The space his cock would normally make is taken up by the dildo, fighting for position inside of you as he rocks gently, sliding in and out of you with gradually deeper movements. The deeper he presses, the more desperate your moans become, and you catch the hesitation in his face before he can move.
"Don't you fuckin' dare stop."
This time he doesn't, wordlessly pushing into you and filling both your holes to the brim as sweat trickles down his face. You want to lick it off him, to sink your nails into his back, wings be damned, to lick the salt from his skin and bite down into the the firm flesh at his neck. But the only thing you can do before he's fucking you in earnest is grab hold, careful to avoid snapping the elastic of his wings against his shoulders as he pounds forward. There's no candlelight and rose petals here, just the raw sound of skin slapping against skin, grunts heaving into the air as you pull yourselves into each other.
"Tell me how it feels," you rasp into his ear, watching the flap of wings over his shoulder. "Tell me how it feels fucking me with both of your cocks."
"Oh, shit, it's good. So good, baby. Someone's definitely goin' on the naughty list next Christmas. You likin' this? You likin' being fucking in the ass and pussy?"
A frantic nod is all you can manage as he starts hitting a spot in you you didn't know existed, building pressure in your cunt like never before.
"I know. You're just so full, ain't you. Take two dicks so well. Pulling me in so good."
Hoisting your legs over Joel hips, you grip around him, a loud moan bursting out of your chest as he fucks back down, deeper now at the new angle. This is it. This is how you die, you're sure of it.
"How close - How close are you. I think I'm gonna - fuck - die -AH!"
He stops grunting for a moment to force out a breathless "Am I hurtin'?"
It only takes one look at you for Joel to realize he's not hurting you at all. There you are, fucked all the way to oblivion and back, a chorus of angels screaming in your ears with each snap of his hips. You're going to come again, clit untouched and holes filled, a way you've never managed to before. You don't even know how it's happening, all you know is that suddenly your soul feels like it's being pulled straight from your bones, through the middle of you and out through your cunt and asshole at the hands of Cupid Joel himself. And then you're gushing, mind and pussy totally detached as you come, soaking his cock and your sheets.
"Yeah that's it," he grunts, his weight surrounding you once more as he pushes into your spasming holes over and over, chasing his own release. If it wasn't for the damn tight rings around his cock and balls he would've come already, but your moans in his ear and your fingers gripping his shoulders spur him forward.
"Joel."
"Gonna come. Gonna fuckin' - uh - come in your tight fuckin' pussy."
"Yes, yes, come in me, please, I can't, I'm gonna -"
Joel stiffens, hips stuttering as he gives you a few hard, shallow thrusts, before he explodes inside you, groaning so loud it makes your ears ring and cunt make one last attempt to clench around him. As much as you soaked him, he's just filled your cunt, cum pushing deep inside you with each spurt, locked in place by the fullness of the two cocks inside you. You collapse back, your ears still ringing and your limbs feeling soft and heavy.
This time you're certain black out for a moment.
But when you peel open your eyes, Cupid Joel is above you again, halo'd by the bright yellow light on your bedroom ceiling. His hair is damp, wet even, from sweat, a bead trickling down his neck and glittering in the light. And in his eyes there's concern, a worried pinch in his brow as he searches your face.
"You passed out -"
"- You're still here."
He rolls his eyes. "Way to make a guy feel special, sweetheart," he says with a cocky smile. "Just checkin' on you, but I can get goin' as long as you're okay."
You nood, the movement feeling as slurred as your speech. "You left. Last time. Saw you walkin'. Jus' wonderin'."
"Wait... you saw that? Shit, I thought you were asleep."
"No, wasn't 'sleep."
"You gonna sleep now?"
"No," you murmur with a nod, closing your eyes as you feel the last sweep of his hand down your neck, pulling a sheet over your limp form, just for you to mumble one last thing before the soft darkness takes you. "Balls... next time... please."
"You got it, darlin'."
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It's an arduous journey to the bathroom when you wake up in the dead of night, remnants of cum trickling down your legs and thighs sticking together. Quickly cleaning yourself up, you check the house for signs of him, already knowing that he's long gone. You wonder how he left this time, whether he kept the wings on, whether he still had a second cock strapped to his own as he escaped into the darkness. For all you know, your cupid could have flown away on glittered fairy wings.
And then you're crawling back into bed, takeout long forgotten, any hunger you had satisfied in a different way than you expected. Somehow there's comfort in the wat patch you curl yourself around. Cupid Joel is gone from your house, but there are still traces of him here. The cum on the sheets, the ache between your legs and, as you reach to turn the light off and let darkness take you, the butt plug on your bedside table. Between the Christmas decorations stashed in a box in your closet and this plug, you were slowly amassing pieces of a man you didn't really know - gifts from a stranger that made you feel more at home in this place you'd moved to than anything else had managed to in ten months.
Tracing the outline of the heart with your finger, you stretch and snuggle back down into bed, letting exhaustion take hold and when you dream, you dream of flying.
taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr
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generalsmemories · 7 months
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HELLOOO FRIEND :DD I just wanted to say that i really like your stories :33 So, can i request a Jing Yuan x reader where they meet in the past? Like Jing Yuan just accidenly bummed into Reader while walking/shopping?
Sorry if it doesn't make sense Also can i be a Hachimi Anon?
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A voice unheard
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ synopsis: If you're given the chance to meet someone you thought you wouldn't meet again, what would you tell them?
✧ contents: fluff, hurt/comfort, sort of an open ending, idk what to even call their relationship, almost lovers to strangers?? mentions of other characters, namely: trailblazer (gn) and herta | word count: 2.3k (i don't know how.)
✧ a/n: i do admit i pondered a bit on this. it may not be what you had hoped but i hope it was still to your liking! also you can of course be hachimi anon so welcome welcome! also this idea popped up after listening to jjk's season 2 opening "ao no sumika" just as a lil fun fact if ya want some more suffering
✧ note: this drabble is mostly written through Jing Yuan's pov, so the sentences written in italics are jing yuan's thoughts!
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"Do you have any regrets, general?" Jing Yuan blinked in surprise, the usual smile he sports on his lips slipping a tiny bit before directing his gaze down towards the trailblazer who curiously looked up at him, patiently waiting for an answer, "Why the sudden interest?" he asks instead.
He doesn't get an answer immediately, but he can tell that the trailblazer before him is witholding some information with how their eyes dart back and forth instead of facing him directly. When they peek once again over to Jing Yuan and sees that he's still staring down at them, they let out a sigh before looking ahead once again, "There's this one member of the Genius Society..." they start. which makes Jing Yuan more confused than before.
"... Do I assume that this member of the Genius Society wants to use me as some sort of guinea pig?" he asks outright, the trailblazer once again losing any ounce of confidence they had just gathered to say that one sentence, turning around while scrambling for words, "I did offer that I could do it again! I mean I already do her Simulated Universe testing, but when I offered she just stared at me with such a dead look! And then she told me I would have nothing to give her because I don't have enough memories-"
Oh, so that's what it's about.
The proposal seemed intriguing enough, "Why not? It would make for quite an enjoyable day, seeing that there's not a lot to do today. What do you need to know? I would have to make you aware I'm not able to leave the Luofu in it's entirety, so making the trip to this members abode would not be feasible at this time," Jing Yuan huffs out with a laugh, the trailblazer merely shaking their head, "No, she gave me one of her puppets to bring with me on the express if she ever wanted to do some testing."
"... Gave you one of her puppets?"
"It's a long story, general. But she is already waiting for you by the express, if you would have the time to make the trip to Cloudford for a few hours at most?"
Which is how Jing Yuan finds himself strapped to a bunch of wires and holding a peculiar looking helmet with even more wires attatched on the outside. Glancing towards the side, he can see a smaller person beside the trailblazer, her obvious ball-joints fully on display - he assumes that this person was the rather... "Eccentric" Genius Society member the trailblazer was referring to.
"... So you're the general of the Luofu, I had assumed you would be far older appearance wise," Jing Yuan merely gives her a cheeky grin and a tilt of his head, "Anyway, I wanted to see if I could perfectly replicate a certain memory that's buried deep down within your brain with just a few important keypoints from the recipient within the Simulated Universe. Of course we could've had a broader scope if the trailblazer had just dragged you to my space station, but alas," she says, gesturing for Jing Yuan to put on the helmet before nodding towards the bed, "We're only limited to one particular strong memory. So general, what's your biggest regret?"
"Ms. Herta, I would have a lot of memories being that I've lived for this long, no?"
"Which is why I'm telling you to think of one of your biggest ones, every human has tons of regrets - you just happen to have way more than the average which makes you a perfect candidate."
His attempt on making a lighthearted joke was quickly shot down. However now that he's being forced to think over all the people he's had to let go of during his life, he finds himself in quite a pickle.
But somehow, there's still one foggy memory that yet seems so clear to him.
"... There's one individual who I would want to talk to again. If I remember correctly, the day I met them again after centuries apart was nothing more than half a day at most. But I wasn't aware that meeting would also be the last day," he starts, about to continue before Herta raises her hand to stop him.
"That's plenty already. I'm now going to transfer your consciousness to small pocket reality where that exact memory happened. You just do whatever you want once you're in there - any data is data after all."
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The artifical sun seems somehow brighter than it usually is when Jing Yuan opens his eyes again. When he finally gathers himself and starts to look around he realizes that he finds himself at Starwatcher Avenue overlooking the street from a higher spot - the familiar yells of street vendors and laughter of passing families or merchants clear in his ears.
Everything seemed so real that it was quite honestly terrifying.
The people greeting him with a smile or a bow when he descended down towards the street, the Cloud Knight giving him a salute and even to the finches landing on his shoulder or head.
If he hadn't known any better, he would've genuinely thought that he was for once experiencing quite a pleasant dream where the Luofu wasn't dealing with the problem of a stellaron.
"Does the newly appointed general really have time to laze around the Avenue like this?" he immediately stiffens up upon hearing that voice. A voice he was sure he had already forgotten what truly sounded like , but yet when he heard it again he knew he would never be able to forget such a lovely voice.
If he didn't knew any better, he would've thought that fate was toying with him by giving him such a nice start only to crush him completely.
"... Jing Yuan?" you call out once again, a bit more nervously since the general before you didn't even turn around to address you.
Ah, if I remember correctly I did immediately turn around when they first called out.
So he takes a deep breath, holds it in for a few seconds before he lets it out and turns around. And the moment he does he's awestruck.
How in the world was Ms. Herta able to recreate your whole appearance to such a degree? Granted she probably took the little information he had provided and done something, but to be able to fabricate your apperance, behaviour and manner of speech in such a short time?
Jing Yuan doesn't know what he should be feeling.
"I thought a busy ranger like yourselves would be far too occupied to take the time to talk to a general, but here you are as well," he jokes back, hoping that you can't tell that his smile is a bit more wobbly than usual.
He forgot how captivating you looked back then.
"Please, I have time to sit down and chat with an old friend, don't I?" you joke, gesturing him closer to you as you sat down at one of the many cafés the Avenue has to offer, "And I bet you also have time seeing that you took upon the offer to sit down and have a few drinks," you added on with a gleeful smile.
He also forgot how easy it was for you to make him feel at ease - even after centuries apart.
[And exactly what part of this memory is your biggest regret, general? It seems like you're having the time of your life here.]
A sudden textbox appearing right before his eyes made Jing Yuan's eyes widen, the general blinking owlishly at it in amazement. Your own eyebrows raise at his rather surprised face, tilting your head with a frown, "You're acting unusually weird today, is everything alright?"
"Oh, yes. I might've had too much work lately for a proper nap," he lies effortlessely - a trait he found that he would habitually do centuries later.
[Oh, don't worry, you can just answer. I'll just make them forget that you answer me the moment you do.]
Jing Yuan sighs, "I mentioned that this would be the last time I would meet them, right? They're a part of the galaxy rangers. We've drifted apart when I got appointed general and they found a chance to join shortly after. If I remember, this would be the first time and last time in over a decade we meet again."
[... Ahh, I see now.]
He's sure that Herta understood what that meant, being that she was part of the same society as the alleged perpretator.
So Jing Yuan decides to omit the details on how much closer the two of you actually were. The night late banters while overlooking the same avenue you were currently seated in, the countless sparring matches that always "coincidentally" ended with either one of you on top of the other in a fit of laughter (Ignoring the fact that his arms are 90% of the time wrapped around you in a vice grip during these moments).
He excludes the joyous moments you had spent with him and his other close friends. How your fingers twirled around his longer strands and bringing them to your lips with a smile, or when you lightly squeezed back when he entertwined your hands together when the two of you decided to slip out of a rather large gathering after a succesful expedition.
He omits the fact that you're both currently wearing (and in his case still wearing till this day) the accessories the two of you had previously gifted each other. He can faintly see the necklace you have tucked beneath your shirt, and he's aware that your gaze is on the tassel he has attatched to one of his belts.
It was the last time he would see you after all. And yet, even with this knowledge he has now - he still finds himself doing the same mistake he did all those centuries ago.
He's still quiet. He's still dead silent even when he knows what kind of fate awaits you when you rise up from that chair before him and continue your initial plan for the day.
You let out a quiet laugh, perhaps mistaking his quietness as awkwardness as you start to stand up in your chair, "I can't take more of the generals' time with my selfish request, so I should probably go and gather what I was originally supposed to get," you inform whilst rising from your chair. Meanwhile Jing Yuan was rooted in his spot, looking down at his teacup without answering you. He's aware that your gaze is on him.
And yet he doesn't dare to look up to make eye contact, just like back then when this was all not a simulation. Instead choosing to swivel the contens inside the cup he was gripping.
He pauses in his movements, blinking as realization slowly dawns down on him.
That's right, this is a simulation. What has happened has already happened, I can't change that.
"Ms. Herta. If I were to do something else than what I had originally done, how much of the response back would be genuine?" he whispers lowly, he can tell that you're starting to move away.
"... Well, it was nice meeting you again, Jing Yuan."
[90%. This is all a code, yes. But I can assure you that whatever response they give you now would mimic exactly what they would've initially responded happened back then if were you to say what you're about to say instead.]
Jing Yuan didn't know he could add more to this regret than what had already transpired. But there it was, a new regret on this memory served to him on a silver platter.
"... Wait, [Name]," he calls out as he gets up from the chair, the screech it makes against the pavement being loud enough for you to turn around to face him with wide eyes.
And he's stunned. In the past, he had stayed rooted in his place and thus not even seen your back as you walked away from him. He knew your voice was a bit wobbly back then, but now he's properly staring at you and taking in more of your appearance. Your reddened eyes and slightly agape mouth, slightly swollen from how you most likely bit them to reduce any noise.
He finds himself suddenly unable to let his voice out.
"... If we were to not meet again at all after this," he finally utters after a while, trying his best to ignore the urge to get closer to you. Instead he sucks in a deep breath before giving you the same easy-going smile he's gotten used to wearing at all times. The starting sentence makes you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, turning your body fully to properly face him while awaiting his next words, "... What would you do?" he asks in the end, staring as your eyes go from a widened state to gazing at him softly.
"I would tell that I loved you," you answer immediately.
Now it's Jing Yuan's eyes to widen.
"And then I would cease to exist sometime in the future without being able to see you again, the end," you add whilst turning around again so your back was facing him.
"Was that a joke?"
"...Unfortunately not."
You still don't turn around, but you're rooted in your spot for a few minutes - as if giving him a chance to do something, anything.
And it's at this moment that Jing Yuan comes to the realization that he's no good with emotions. He knows he's opening his mouth, but he's also aware that they keep closing too. The words die at the tip of his tongue, and his eyes are still staring at your back as you start to move further away from him.
He comes back to his senses far too late, only able to walk a few steps while reaching out a hand, "We'll meet again, right...?" he cries out, although he's fully aware you can no longer hear him.
[Well I got what I wanted. Jing Yuan I'll bring you back now.]
Jing Yuan can feel his consciousness getting dragged away from the simulated scene before he can answer. But just before his vision completely blackens, he can see you turn around while raising your arms up, seemingly waving at him - he can make out your smile as you open your mouth.
"Goodbye."
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heizouz · 6 months
Note
whoever requested the sub lyney thing i am so in love w u ALSO UR WRITING IS AMAZING litch rally all i can think abt rn
lyney is def like. a cocky sub tho like he’s a little feisty idk !!???! like he starts off all confident and then he just. falls apart over time… idk he lives in my brain i swear
nsfw sub!lyney + gn!reader, reader is kind of mean (not really at all), brat lyney turned cockwhore, cock can be referred to as a strap :]
THANK YOUUUU TYSM UR TOO SWEET!!! i can't tell if i strayed a bit off the request here but i hope it's okay nonetheless🤞🏻it's my favourite thing to put boys in their places so this was so fun to write, tysm for the req anon!!! <3
lyney is definitely the type of sub to test his partner's patience and bring them to their breaking point instead of being obedient because, what's the fun in that?
he always acts so confident, both in and out of the bedroom—putting on a show for anyone who has the pleasure of being around him. you know he's not always like that; you'd seen the ways he'd beg for you to let him cum, seen how he'd fall apart from things such as soft grinding or needy kisses.
that's why you just let him carry out his act.
lyney was naturally clingy, but the way his touches seemed to linger for a second too long, or fall lower than they were supposed to, you could tell he was trying to rile you up. he'd been at it all day; fingers dancing over your chest moments after you'd woken up, teasing remarks to make you flush in front of your friends, hands gripping hard on your hips when you stood, and squeezing your thighs when you sat. you put up with all of it though, letting the cockiness go to his head so you could watch him crumble underneath you once you finally got him alone.
lyney had to force back a grin when you'd stormed into the house later that day, not a word from your lips as he smirked and happily followed you around as if taunting you till you made it to the bedroom. he'd giggled when you'd practically thrown him on the bed, tongue pressing against your cheek at the smug expression painted over the magician's face.
you weren't mad per say; lyney was just naturally feisty and way too cocky, so all of his taunts and tricks were nothing by now. but he got a thrill off of seeing your reactions and watching you snap.
so what can you say really? he was asking for it.
"good fucking boy." you growl, your hips pistoning slow and harsh into him. lyney's moaning, crying out against the sheets as you hold him down, knocking the breath from him with every thrust. "see? 's not that hard to be a doll and listen, is it?"
lyney's constant stream of moans echo around the room, unable to answer you whether you wanted him to or not. he's too fucked out, cries spilling from his pretty parted lips with every drag of your cock. he's too weak to grab the sheets, fingers clawing at the material. he's so perfect like this—nothing like the usual overconfident, charming character everyone sees him to be; all completely at your mercy and squirming underneath you.
your fingers tighten in his messy hair, his once pretty braid now loose and falling out, and you lift his head from the sheets. lyney whines, high and needy, volume so much louder now he was no longer pressed against the bed. your hips don't slow, rather they pick up a little in pace and lyney has to hold himself up with his arms to stop himself from collapsing on to the sheets.
"what's happened, doll? can't talk?" lyney can feel your smirk just from your tone alone. you fold your body over his back, thrusting deep into him and he whimpers, "have i fucked you dumb?"
letting you wrap your hand around his throat, you make him tilt his head back as much as he can to look at you. his eyes glaze over with nothing but needy tears, pants falling from his constantly parted lips with every drag of your cock and how you handle him so easily into such positions. lyney doesn't answer you, but if the moans dropping from his tongue with every hard thrust told you anything, it was that you had fucked him dumb.
lyney's brain is practically empty, pretty dumb whimpers leaving his throat and he can't form any words; especially when you pull out just so the tip of your cock stays inside before dragging him back onto you with such ease. especially when the fingers around his throat find his open mouth and stuff his needy throat full, shutting him up even though his moans bleed past your digits. and especially after he finishes, head blanking and eyes rolling back into his head as you continue to fuck him through his orgasm, letting him know that this is what he deserves.
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onlyhuis · 1 year
Note
just thinking about Vernon fingering y/n with his cold metal rings 😵
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member | vernon x fem reader word count | 900 warnings | fingering (with rings), temperature play, edging kinda, vernon is very much taking his time and enjoying this notes | vernonrot bad today wowie 😓 also idk why my brain decided this was gonna be blondenon skjdgfhs but i'm not complaining. tagging @aceofvernons hehe enjoy beloved :)
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“fuck, nonnie, that’s cold!” you gasp, squirming under your boyfriend’s touch. 
vernon just grins in response. his hands roam your body, your skin erupting with goosebumps everywhere that the ice-cold metal of his rings touches. he drags his fingers up to your breasts, drawing circles around your nipples with his rings as you whine out his name, your nipples hardening from the sudden chill.
it feels like your skin is on fire; the only relief is the cool touches of his fingertips ghosting over your body.
his hand skims over your stomach and instinctively you arch your back, pushing into him. he leans back on his heels, his hands sliding lower and lower as he leaves a trail of soft, light kisses down your chest. 
finally his hands come to a stop at your hips as he holds onto you tighter, moving you into the position he wants you. his rings dig into your skin, but the feeling of the cold metal pressing into you sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine.
you can’t help but whine in impatience when he lets go of you, returning to tracing his fingers over your thighs, so gentle you can almost barely feel it, if it weren’t for how cold his hands are.
“vernon, please,” you groan, pleading for more.
he doesn’t reply, but he obliges you, fingertips dragging closer and closer to the burning heat between your legs where you so desperately need him.
he plants one hand firmly on your thigh, holding you open as his other hand begins to trace large circles around your pussy, not touching you just yet: so close, but still so far.
you shudder, spreading your legs even wider, trying to encourage him to do what you want.
but he won’t give in just yet.
“what is it you want, baby?” he asks, voice gravelly as he stares down at you, his normally soft brown eyes now darkened with lust.
you throw your head back against the bed. “please, touch me.”
he grins, moving his hands to drag up and down your thighs, his fingernails just barely scratching against the surface of your skin; not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel.
you moan and his hands move to your inner thighs. you consider reaching down and using your own fingers, but the way he’s so carefully building you up is better than anything you could do to yourself, and you know whatever he decides to do to you afterwards is more than worth the wait.
another garbled cry of “please” and finally, finally vernon puts his hand right up against your cunt. a mixture of sighs of relief and groans of pleasure escape you as his fingers delicately part your folds, the sudden cool air on your hole making you shiver.
he pushes the tip of his index finger into you up to his first knuckle and immediately you clench around him, already so sensitive even without anything substantial yet. slowly he pulls his finger out before pushing it back in, going even deeper in you. soon his entire finger is inside you, your walls spasming around the digit as he leisurely begins to curl his finger.
just when you’re starting to adjust to the feeling of his long, thick fingers inside of you, without warning he slips in a second finger, this one covered in rings.
you bite back a moan as you feel the smooth metal press against your folds, your thighs automatically squeezing shut around his arm. but he easily pries them apart again, pushing his weight on one of your legs to hold you into the bed as his hand begins to speed up, working you open with his skilled fingers.
with each movement of his hand his fingers push deeper into you, until you feel him add a third finger, even more rings now rubbing against your folds. the coolness of the metal is an almost soothing feeling against the heat of your pulsing cunt, and the mixture of sensations has you moaning his name without thinking, already so lost in his touch that you can only manage to babble out a stream of moans and curses.
he tilts his hand upwards, his rings aligning perfectly with your clit so you feel each thrust both inside and out, rubbing at the perfect angle that has you trembling in his grasp.
you feel your orgasm starting to approach, building quickly with each drag of his rings against your nerves. but vernon must feel you getting close, must feel you clenching around him harder than before, because right before the tension in your core is about to snap, his fingers slow down their pace, your orgasm falling away in a matter of seconds. you cry out in frustration at the loss, whining and begging and pleading for him to give you relief, to let you finish what he started and make a mess all over his beautiful hands.
but to your dismay he pulls his fingers out of you completely, holding his hand up for you to see how they’re covered in your juices. his rings are smeared with the clear liquid, glistening in the light, and you moan at the sight, embarrassed but also more turned on than you’ve ever been.
vernon grins, leaning forward to run the tip of his finger along your lips, and your mouth falls open, knowing what he wants before he even says it. 
“now, be good and suck them clean, and then i’ll let you cum.”
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it lets me know this is something people want to see more of and it helps a ton with being motivated to write. thanks for reading!!
drabble taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @onlymingyus @just-here-to-read-01 @floweryjessy @darlingvernon @wonuziex @enhacolor
if you’d like to update your taglist preferences to add or remove yourself from my “short drabbles” taglist, you can fill out my form here: join my taglist here!
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streamingcolors-gvf · 10 months
Text
Skin Deep - Part 6
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Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!reader x Jake Kiszka
Word count: 15.4K
A/N: I’m so sorry for taking so long with this update. I hope this hits the spot after my long break! This is a Jake chapter so be ready!
As always, I appreciate all the love, support and feedback y’all give me ❤️
Major shout out to Hannah @capturethechaos for helping me pull the last bits of this chapter together for you guys. Without her, I’d be struggling.
Also props to my lovely Nessa @asparrowofthedawn for keeping me grounded when I doubt myself on here and giving me all the ideas.
Warnings: cursing, smoking/tobacco use, jealousy, sexually explicit content - 18+/MINORS DNI!! (Unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, masturbation, dirty talk, degradation, some dom stuff, idk.. y’all know me by now)
Part 5, Masterpost
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You slide between the covers of your bed, swearing to yourself that the feeling of the sheets gliding against your freshly-shaved legs is something you’ll never be able to replicate. It’s what you’ve been craving since you stepped into that bar earlier tonight when you were dragged out to see your friends for a few rounds of drinks. 
Seeing and catching up with them was something you desperately needed, but what they didn’t know was that you had been torturing yourself the entire time with Josh and Jake on your mind. It’s been like that for days. Just your brain replays every single moment you’ve had with them on a continuous loop while you overanalyze it all to death.
After the night Josh had given you his tattoo, the both of you have been wrapped up in the monotony of your busy, everyday lives. Sure, you’ve exchanged some flirty messages and even a few pictures over the last few days, but it failed in comparison to what you had with him. Jake, on the other hand, hadn’t spoken to you since that morning in their kitchen, which has left things pretty unknown between the two of you. 
You do know that with these types of arrangements, everything can end as soon as it started, and it would be easy for you to sabotage it all with your overthinking. It’s just proving more difficult than you initially expected.
You like to think of Josh as an open book. You can flip through all the pages, but half of it happens to be written in invisible ink. Jake in comparison is sealed shut, and just to throw in another curveball, it's as if he is reading random lines throughout the story to you without an ounce of context.  
While your cat sleeps between your legs as you scroll through your phone, the device begins to vibrate in your hand with the banner for an incoming phone call appearing on the top of your screen. You don’t recognize the number since it’s not one of your saved contacts. Normally you would decline the random call, but there is something about it that makes you reconsider swiping it away. 
You tap the screen to accept and bring your phone to your ear. “Hello?”
A few seconds pass before a raspy voice from the other side of the line responds, “Dove.”
There’s no question as to who it is, but you ask anyway, “Jake?”
A breathy drawn-out chuckle crackles in your ear, taunting you, “You’re good at this.”
The sound makes your chest feel heavy, while somehow causing that fluttery feeling to blossom in your stomach. Men have never intimidated you before, especially to this degree, but he makes you nervous, and you haven’t been able to pinpoint exactly why. You know he can’t see your smile starting to form, but you’re sure he can hear it through the line. You do your best to bite it back, and throw in a frustrated groan for good measure, “What do you want? Better yet, tell me how you got my number first.”
He scoffs loudly into the receiver, “Oh, I can fuck your brains out but I can’t call you? You have some interesting boundaries, baby.”
You can hear the alcohol in his system from the lazy cadence of his voice alone. “Are you drunk?”
“No.”
You scold him with a defeated sigh, “…Jake.”
A couple of seconds pass before he pushes a sleepy hum through the line, “Mmmm, yes?”
You pull your phone away to check the time before bringing it back to your ear with a heavy roll of your eyes. “Why are you calling me at one in the morning?”
“I wanted to hear your voice.” As jaded as you are, there’s a genuine softness to the admission that sends warmth to your heart even though you’re certain there’s a different intention behind the late call. 
You listen closely, but you don’t hear any background noise through the end of the line that would indicate he’s out tonight. “Where are you?”
“You like to ask a lot of questions. But if you must know, I’m at home in my bed with my dick in my hand.”
You huff at the thought, convincing yourself that he’s only saying it to get you flustered. What you try to do instead, is picture how his night must’ve played out for him to call you this late. “So you couldn’t get laid tonight and I’m your last option?”
He laughs, filling your ears with the nasal cackle. It’s a fleeting moment of what it truly sounds like before he takes a calming inhale through his teeth. “Feisty tonight. And no. I never said that. If I wanted a woman in my bed tonight, there would be. And the only reason there isn’t is because you’re not here.”    
You blush at the thought and the witty remark you had loaded vanishes off your tongue. He does that — making your brain go all fuzzy when usually you’d be so sure of yourself. 
The line is left open for longer than you intend as you chew on your bottom lip in a desperate search for something clever to say, making him ask, “What are you doing? Can I come over?”
Your mind is racing with possibilities, but you ultimately sigh in defeat, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jake.”
“Why?” He huffs in disbelief, giving away the fact that rejection is not something he’s used to. 
“Because it’s obvious you’ve been drinking and I’m in my pajamas and bed already snuggling with my cat. That’s why.”
He hums before clicking his tongue in thought, “I dunno…those sound like reasons why I should come over.”
Before he has the chance to convince you, which you know he can, you cut in abruptly, “I’m hanging up now. Goodnight, Romeo.”
“Wait!” The rise in volume makes you jump and pull the phone from your ear. “Hold on a second. I just wanna talk to you for a few minutes.”
You know it’s risky to entertain him, but your curiosity keeps you tethered to the conversation.“Go ahead, start talking.”
“Oh no, she’s starting to be a brat.” The sarcasm laden in his voice makes your brain tingle more than you’d like to admit.
You smile like an idiot as you adjust your position on the bed to get as comfortable, but your movement disturbs your cat's slumber enough for him to give you an annoyed chirp before hopping onto the floor. 
Just mentioning his brother’s name would be like dousing a fire with a gallon of gasoline, but you do it anyway. “Where’s Josh?”
He doesn’t even attempt to hide the irritation when he scoffs, “I don’t fucking know. But he’s not here on this phone call with us, is he?” 
“No, he’s not.”
Realizing that he might have overreacted, he relaxes, taking on a more comforting, silken tone, “Then let’s keep this between us, dove. No need to worry about him tonight.”
“Why do you call me that?”
“Dove?” He pauses as if he’s falling back into his thoughts. “I think it’s because you’re so soft and delicate. Especially when I can feel you tremble…how your heart races when you’re in my hands —like a beautiful little dove.”
You didn’t anticipate him having a real answer, because truthfully, you never put much thought as to why he called you the pet name before now. 
As if the silence between you becomes too unbearable for him, he blurts out, “I’ve been thinking about you.”
Based on what you know about him so far, admitting something like this seems very unlike him, so you follow up, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he breathes heavily into the phone, but you imagine that breath fanning across the vulnerable skin of your neck instead. “Is it bad that I can’t stop thinking about your pussy wrapped around my cock?”
You’re not sure what you should have expected, but the turn in conversation to dirty talk makes your face flush with heat and your chest constricts from the thought alone. “No… I don’t think so.”
“No?” The changing inflection of his voice reveals that he senses the shyness coming through in your meek response. “You like knowing that the thought of filling you up again has been on my mind all fucking week?”
You can picture it so vividly. His words spark the memory of his cock deep inside you, the way he fills you up, and how he eventually runs down your inner thighs. You involuntarily squeeze them together, but only to clench around absolutely nothing.
 He chuckles softly through the drunken confessions, the bitterness of liquor coating every word that passes from his lips. “You got me hooked. You know, I was at the bar tonight and all I wanted was to hear those sweet little cries of yours when you beg for me…when you say my name.” 
“Jake…” You whisper into the line. What he’s saying to you is taking you by surprise, but not in an uncomfortable way. In a way that freezes the mechanisms of your mind from working properly. In a way that makes you feel anxious because you might say the wrong thing and embarrass yourself — ultimately ruining this moment. 
In the typical phone sex fashion, he asks, “What are you wearing, dove?”
An airy laugh flutters from your throat as you pull at the loose clothing draped across your body, “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Jake, but I’m wearing a ratty t-shirt and pajama pants.” You stifle the groan of self-loathing while pinching the bridge of your nose knowing that you could’ve just lied and made up anything that your heart desires. 
“Sexy.” The way he drunkenly drags out the word helps you visualize a smile on his face. He then adds without skipping a beat, “Do you like lingerie?”
Feeling like this is your chance to have the upper hand, you tease back, “I do. So, Jacob, are you telling me you’re a lingerie guy?”
He snorts a laugh, adding levity to what has been a tense interaction otherwise.“What man isn’t?”
You pick at the threads of your duvet while you reflect on past partners through the years. “I dunno. I feel like some men would rather get it off as soon as possible.”
You hear a judgemental hum before he answers, “Well, it seems like you’ve been wasting your time with the wrong men.”
Your tone is teasing, yet flirty, “And you’re the right man?”
“I never said that.” He pushes out a deep sigh, “Honestly, I have a feeling that I might be the worst thing for you, baby.”
He’s probably right about that, but you’re stubborn enough to want to find that out for yourself. You could question what he means by it, but you choose to mentally flip through your wardrobe trying to remember what you might have until something pops into your brain. “I have this pretty black set that I bought a few months ago. I think you might like that one.”
You hear a soft, muffled groan come through the line, “Would you try it on for me?” 
Something has changed in his voice. It’s not the usual demand or teasing remark you usually get from him. He wouldn’t admit this, but you hear the desperation in the request. The barely-there whine blessing your ears — the way it seems like he’s groveling at your feet for it. 
“Give me one moment,” You huff out as you nearly fly out of your bed, tumbling onto the floor on your way to your closet. You tap the speaker icon and place the phone down on your dresser and walk over to your closet to search for the lingerie set somewhere in the heaps of clothes.  
A pleased chuckle comes from the speaker, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Flipping through the collection of hangers, you spot the recognizable material sticking out amongst the rest of your clothing and pull out the strappy, black corset bra with its matching lace panties. You’re partial to the modest, simple set. It’s not flashy or complicated compared to a lot of lingerie that you’ve seen in some specialty boutiques, but it’s without a doubt the nicest item you’ve bought for yourself in a long time — something that would probably look flattering on anyone. 
You hold it out in front of you, reliving the fond memory of buying it and how much you love the way you look in it until you hear Jake’s voice echoing throughout your small bedroom, “Are you still there?” 
“You’re so impatient.” You step out of your closet, scolding him half-heartedly now that you’re experiencing another wave of confidence. You rush to yank the t-shirt that has its fair share of holes over your head and onto your bedroom floor. Next to join the pile at your feet are the arguably not-as-sexy cotton briefs you’ve worn to bed.
“Where the fuck did you go? Narnia?”
“I think you underestimate the vastness of a woman’s clos—“ Your snarky response is suddenly cut off when your foot snags the leg hole of the panties, sending you toppling over head first. Thankfully, you catch yourself on the edge of the dresser before you fall over completely. You do your best to stifle back the groan of pain, hoping he didn’t hear your embarrassing moment of clumsiness.
Which proves to be a failure when he asks, “What was that? Are you okay?”
You straighten and finish pulling the panties up the rest of the way while you answer, “Yeah, yeah…just tripped a little. I’m fine.”
He responds with a little drunken giggle,  “Aww, weak in the knees for me already, baby?”
The bad joke paired with the pet name he’s let slip a few times instantly redirects your thoughts to his twin. “I wasn’t aware that I was talking to Josh on the phone.”
You wince and brace yourself for the repercussions of mentioning his brother. Silence hangs in the air while you clasp the bra, and adjust the straps and material on your body.
“What is that supposed to mean?” His voice is tight, like an overstretched rubber band ready to snap. 
“Relax, Jake.” Now that you have the set on, you sit on the lounge chair that's beside your bed and face the full-length mirror in your room. You do your best to diffuse his annoyance by adding a velvety richness to your voice. “Just that you two are more similar than I think you realize.”
“I’m nothing like him.”
You’re too busy watching your reflection to find the best position for the photo. You drape a leg over the arm of the chair, spreading yourself as you lean back into the cushion and begin feeling across the black lace. 
“You act like it’s a bad thing,” You giggle, tapping the camera button, to capture the image. 
You hear the text alert from his phone, and all you can do is wait for him to open the message. “Am I gonna see you or wha—oh fuck.”
If you could see him look at the photo, you would see him staring blankly at your mostly naked body in complete awe. You would see how his eyes take in all the details of your top, how he can see your nipples through the sheer black fabric. You would watch them follow the curves of your body down to your hand that’s placed between your open legs. 
All you can do is listen closely, just patiently wait for his reaction. You hear it in real-time, his realization that the picture you’ve sent is a Live Photo. “Oh, my god. You’re fucking perfect.”
You imagine him holding his thumb to the photo to watch that short video of you sliding your fingers underneath the fabric before you pull it to the side to show him what’s hidden behind it. 
He pushes out a sharp hiss, following the sound with a hushed grunt. “Tell me how it feels on your skin.”
You explore the sheer, thin fabric with your fingers, feeling your hardened nipples through the delicate material. “It’s soft and lacy. I think you would like it.”
“Are you playing with yourself yet, dove?” Once he hears your faint hum, he takes in a staggered breath, “Imagine my fingers taking care of that sweet little clit of yours. Is she hard yet?”
You do just that. You pretend it’s his fingers instead of yours rubbing across the lace covering your clit in teasing, languid patterns. You imagine how his touch is slightly rougher but still mindful of how sensitive you are.  “Yeah.”
His labored breathing adds to the strain in his voice, “Good girl. What do you want me to do?”
A thin sheen of sweat has started to collect across your brow, and you swallow back the dryness on your tongue. “Your fingers.”
“Where do you want them?” When you don’t answer him right away, he makes sure to reassure you, “Don’t be shy with me, baby.” 
“Inside me.”
“I want you to say it.” His silken voice coaxes you in with each word, every heavy, weighted breath.
Heat blooms in your chest as your heart races within it, but you force yourself to push past that last bit of self-preservation you’ve been holding onto. “I want your fingers inside my pussy.”
“Fuck,” he groans, and for a moment you think you can hear the distinct wet sounds of lube. “I love hearing you say such filthy words, dove.” He pauses for a few seconds to catch his breath before continuing, “I wish I was there right now making you cum on my fingers, stretching that pretty cunt out for my cock.” He grunts another curse, “I’m so hard thinking about it.”
It could be that you just want to hear him say it, or maybe you’re doing it to stroke your ego since he’s already admitted to it moments ago, but you can’t help but ask, “Did you think about me tonight?’
“Of course, dove. I’m not sure if I ever stop.” He sighs, sending static of his muffled breath into the phone before he starts to ramble, “The way you taste. I don’t think I’ll be able to get how you look sucking my cock out of my head. I’m serious when I say I was hard most of the night thinking about you wrapped under my arm, wearing your sluttiest dress. Fuck! I wanna fuck you so bad right now.”
You’ve been touching, feeling, and pleasuring yourself with his gravelly voice acting as your guide. Those words, the graphic details mixing in with his labored, broken breaths cause your imagination to run away from you. “What are you doing?”
He chuckles, “You like thinking about me jerking off to you, baby?”
You laugh with him, because there’s no chance in hell you can admit the amount of time that you’ve already spent thinking about it. “Maybe.”
He keeps his voice low with the taunt, “I know you’re a dirty, little voyeur.” 
You shoot up to a sitting position snapping out of your daze enough to blurt out into the receiver, “He fucking told you?!”
He adds to your anxiety with the deliberate pause he takes. “No, but now he doesn’t need to.”
You can’t believe he blindsided you, catching you in the confession. “You fucking bastard.”
He only laughs, filling your head with the intoxicating sound, “So you wanna see the way I play with myself?”
You stay quiet for a few beats too long, imagining the way he’s probably laid out across the silken sheets of his bed like he was the last time you slept with him. You know he has that cocky smirk on his face knowing that you’re going to say yes. 
“Come on, dove. I know you want to. Just gotta ask me nicely.”
 “Please, Jake,” your voice is a pitiful whisper, lacking all the confidence that would make you sound so sure of yourself. In reality, it’s embarrassing just how quickly you fold and give in to him. 
“That’s my girl.”
 Your phone begins to vibrate due to the incoming video chat call coming from him. The proposition of seeing him in real-time, while he can also see you, makes you nervous. “Oh, I don’t know about a FaceTime—“
“It’s just me, okay? I want to see you and you want to see me, right?” His voice is beyond enticing — so dangerously silken entering your brain. Just like his twin, he can convince you of anything, and it helps that you were already there, to begin with. 
You chew on your lip for a few seconds before hitting the accept button, switching the normal phone call into a video one. Your screen opens up to his rear-facing camera that’s pointed at his ceiling. 
More importantly, it’s pointed directly at the mirror on the bedroom ceiling. 
And just like how you pictured in your mind, he’s laying flat on his back across his massive bed. His black button-up he probably wore for the night out is completely open, exposing his tattooed chest and stomach. He kicked off his pants, leaving his boxer briefs on — only pulling them down his legs far enough to free his cock.
You can see the reflection of his face past his phone while he slowly plays with himself., noting that your prediction about that smile of his was right. His eyes bounce back and forth between his phone and looking directly into the mirror.  “I wish it was your hand stroking me instead. I fucking love the way you touch me. It’s so gentle, almost like you’re scared you’re gonna hurt me.” The way he’s touching himself seems so teasing, following no true pattern or rhythm, as if he was truly pretending it was your hand instead of his own. You watch him pet the underside of his cock with a feather-light touch of his fingertips and how it twitches from the contact. “God, your lips…how your tongue feels on my cock.”
Your brain is going a mile a minute with everything you want to say back to him, but the only coherent thing that forms on your tongue is, “How close are you?”
He groans through an even bigger smile, stretching his neck out while he smacks his dick against his belly, “Close. I’ve been edging myself for a fucking hour thinking about you.” You’ve been too shy to show your stunned expression, so the only view you’ve given him is of the blank white ceiling of your bedroom. “I wanna see that pretty pussy wrapped up like a present for me. Can you show me, dove?” 
“Oh, you want to see me?”
“Now look at you being the tease.”
You tilt the camera down, starting your little show by revealing your legs and slowly working your way down until he can see the black lace thong. You then bring your hand into the frame, teasing him with the sight of your fingers brushing across your covered pussy. “What would you do if you were here?”
You break your concentration to watch his hand stall on his cock, like his thoughts have become scrambled inside his head for the very first time,  “If I was there with you right now?” He allows his eyes to close while he tries to think of his answer. “Where do I even start?”
He decides to change up your view by dropping the camera down in the same way you have yours — blessing you with his point-of-view of his cock. Now that it’s closer, you can see that it’s shining in the low lighting of his bedroom, completely slick with lube. He glides a tight fist up the length, causing the muscles of his stomach to spasm through the upward stroke. “I want to kiss you, feel how soft your skin is… see how you look in that lingerie. I know the picture doesn’t do you justice.”
You’re committed, picking right where you left off by pleasuring yourself. As you roll your fingers over your clit and slip them inside yourself, you realize that you’re even closer now that he’s eliminated the need for your imagination. He’s showing you in real-time how he jerks himself off thinking about you. 
You hear the faint gasp before he continues, “I’d play with your perfect tits, feel your nipples harden against my tongue while I rub over your sensitive clit.” His voice is breathier than it’s ever been from him trying to hold back his moans, “Pull those panties to the side and use my fingers to make you feel so good.” His efforts to keep himself composed have proved fruitless with the amount of liquor in his system. He falls victim to it by what sounds like a whine into the receiver, “I really wish I was there to show you.” 
You’re right there with him, giving yourself away with every ragged breath. “I wish you were here too.”
He sighs, “I can hear you getting close, dove.” Based on how he’s starting to pick up the pace of his strokes, it doesn’t seem like he has long either. “Can you come for me?”
Hearing him ask for it is the final push you need, and all you can focus on is the hushed whimpers and moans he lets slip out as he brings himself to the very edge. You’re seconds behind him, watching as holds his cock perfectly still as the first spurt dribbles down the side and over his knuckles. He sucks in a sharp breath before pushing out a string of grunted curses as the rest of his orgasm hits him with an unexpected force. He shoots across his stomach, painting his abdomen with ropes of his cum. 
The graphic image overrides your brain, acting as the last mental shove into your climax. You burn it into memory as the rush of pleasure pools between your legs and drowns your senses. As you start to come to, you can’t be sure what you said, or what sounds you might have made, but you do know that you’re a breathless mess strewn across your bed. Your mouth is beyond desert dry and the only thing in your head is the pounding of your heartbeat. “Wow.”
He laughs, but it's obvious from how it sounds that the exhaustion is starting to set in. And since he’s in a worse state than you, he is stuck in the same position with the mess he made across his body. “Yeah…that was fun.”
You laugh, keeping the tone of your voice light even though you’re bummed about the thought of hanging up, “Go ahead and clean up.”
He stretches his legs but keeps his hand in the same place on his cock. His response is groggy, revealing that you wouldn't have that much more time with him anyway, “Yeah, I probably should. Goodnight, dove.”
“Goodnight, Jake.”
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Since your boss allowed you to leave work early today, you decided to walk down to the tattoo shop and visit Josh for a few minutes before heading home. And to your benefit, it’s a warm spring day, making the half-mile walk from the coffee shop a pleasant one. 
With his favorite coffee in one hand, you make the turn around the familiar corner and spot the bold, painted lettering on the shop’s large plate-glass windows. You’re experiencing high school giddiness from knowing you’ll see him within minutes, and it makes your stomach churn wildly with anticipation. 
When you walk in, the expected ding from the doorbell chimes through the shop, alerting the staff of your arrival. There are more people in the lobby than you expect, but Sam is the first one to acknowledge as he discusses jewelry options with a potential client over the glass display case. Glancing over to his right, you don’t recognize the other man behind the counter a few feet away from him, but his features are striking enough to pull your attention for only being a stranger. You can see around the person he’s talking to, spotting his shoulder-length, jet-black curly hair framing his angular face and the black t-shirt that reveals his toned, tattoo-covered arms. 
As you make your way to the staircase, Sam gives you an approving nod before returning to his current conversation. Unlike the other times you’ve been here, the music is booming through the speakers, mixing with the chatter of multiple people as you start to ascend the stairs. 
Once you clear the landing, your eyes bounce around all the activity happening on the second floor, but when you look over to his corner of the room, you see him seated at his station, working away on a tattoo. His client, a young woman around your age if you were to guess, is currently getting a rib piece done from what you can tell at this distance.  She’s stretching out across the same flat table you were on days ago, with her flowing bleached locks billowing beneath her, one arm tucked behind her head with most of her sculpted torso exposed from her tiny, cropped tank being pushed up to right below her breasts. 
She’s beautiful, blonde, perky, and enthusiastic. 
Josh looks good, but there wasn’t a shred of doubt in your mind that he would. He’s dressed in his usual casual outfit, wearing one of the standard shop-issued t-shirts and a pair of khakis cuffed at the ankles. His loose curls are swept across his head effortlessly, showing off the fresh touch up to the buzzed sides. It should be you complimenting him. It should be you making him blush and giggle.  
You’re far enough that you can't hear the intimate conversation between them, but you can see Josh throwing back his head from the booming laughter leaving him. He’s comfortable with her, inching just a little closer than the minute before. Her other hand is all over him, those manicured fingers touching across his bare arms as she giggles and bats her lash extensions — like a predator honing in on their next prey. 
He’s too preoccupied to see you in the center of the room, watching him venture into the trap willingly as he tells her his dumb little jokes and collection of his favorite anecdotes. You can only stand frozen in your spot, staring as she whines in a high-pitched voice that’s best described as ‘grating’ to your ears, “Oh my god, Josh. You’re so funny!”
Your stomach turns sour from the sight alone.
You consider turning around and fleeing down the staircase to save face, to hide the embarrassment festering within you because there’s no way you can stroll over there with his stupid coffee in your hand now.
You suddenly feel lost and out of place here. You’re not welcome. You might as well be just another customer strolling through the shop seeking out their next tattoo. Your flight response is what activates, propelling you back into the direction from whence you came, but before you make it to the stairs, Jake working alone at his desk, hyper-focused on drawing one of his designs stops you right in your tracks. It’s enough to make you fight back your initial urge to just leave and decide to take the chance on walking over to him. 
He’s changed things up from his normal long-sleeved button-down, displaying the collection of tattoos that cover his arms by dressing in a faded red t-shirt. With the neckline so loose that it’s stretched out beyond belief, the shirt somehow drapes and fits across him perfectly. 
You step beside him, but choose not to say anything at first for fear of interrupting him.  You silently watch as he swipes his hand across the paper with confidence, leaving bold strokes of black ink in its path.  
If he has any awareness of his surroundings, he would already be in tune with your presence, but you already know him better than that, so his acting like he doesn’t notice you, is blatantly intentional. He’s baited and set the line —effectively making you work for it to see how badly you want his attention — now all he has to do is wait patiently for you to take the first bite. 
His pretending you don’t exist allows you to take in how beautiful he looks today. It’s a graceful, delicate beauty that has otherwise gotten overlooked until now. His long, chestnut hair is tucked behind his left ear, exposing the additional silver hoop through his cartilage and the tiny upside-down black and gray dagger tattooed behind it. You’ve nearly chewed a hole through your bottom lip from anxiety, but you take another daring step closer to him.
 “Oh, hello, dove,” he coos loud enough for you to hear over the music before peeling away from his paper to look into your eyes. The way his satisfying drawl of voice delivers the greeting nearly makes your knees buckle, especially now that you know the real reason behind the pet name. 
“Hi,” you mutter softly while setting the coffee down on his desk. You can’t help but wonder why you’re suddenly shy, bashful even, when you interact with him. 
With an air of casual cockiness, he shifts back in his chair to cross a leg over the other and begins drumming his fingers along the top of his knee. It brings your line of vision to the bands of silver wrapped around them as they catch the light, making you note that this is the first time he’s ever worn rings. You know it’s not based on their aged patina finish and how natural they fit on his fingers like his body has remembered their weight over the years. 
You give in to the temptation and let your eyes drift down his body to his lap now that he’s facing you. He’s wearing a different style of pants than what you’ve seen so far on him, a black, tight-fitting pair of Dickies. He’s cuffed the bottoms today just like his brother, revealing the laces of his leather Doc Marten boots. The dark pants hug his thighs in the best way possible, leaving very little to the imagination.
 He notices the iced coffee you brought right away, but his focus on it doesn’t linger long and he brings his attention to you standing before him. He stares at your fidgeting hands and makes his way up to your eyes and holds on to them, searching for the thoughts until a crooked smile breaks on his face, “What brings you in today?”
You’re showing your cards to him as the indifferent expression on your face begins to falter. There’s an unmistakable amount of tension brewing between you from the last time you had spoken to him. “Just visiting.”
He nods slowly, leaning forward to snatch the coffee off the table, and settles back against the chair. The seconds go by at an excruciatingly slow pace as he spins it in his hand to read the name off the bottom line on the plastic cup. You swallow the lump in your throat as you wait for his inevitable reaction. First, he looks up at you before glancing over to his twin. “I see… and how’s that going so far?”
You dance your fingers along the edge of the desk, studying the clutter of the art supplies across its surface. “I dunno. You tell me. You’re the first one I’ve visited.”
He hums in thought as he takes the first sip from the coffee, effectively claiming it as his own before placing it by his side. He surprises you by reaching out and taking your wrist into his hand, guiding you that much closer to him with a gentle pull. He stares up at you while he begins to massage your palm and down each of your fingers.
For a second your eyes flutter closed and your breath catches in your throat, stopping the chance for a coherent thought to leave your lips. The pressure of his fingers on your skin is sensual, yet deliberate with every touch. He begins to work his way up your arm, but a high-pitched squeal cuts through the bustling noise of the shop, interrupting the moment of tension.
“Oh my god, Josh! You’re so talented! You’re so gonna be my tattoo artist now!”
It’s her. She’s fawning over him, feeding his ego more and more with every praise and empty piece of flattery she throws at him. It’s ridiculous that you’re letting it affect you like this, especially while you flirt away with his twin brother. You’re being a hypocrite, but damn it does it make you feel a certain way to see her touching all over him when you should be the one to do it. 
You can’t hold back the heavy roll of your eyes with the scowl pulling at your features, and how you instantly pull your hand from Jake’s grasp out of discomfort. He takes note of the sudden change in your body language and looks over to the source of the sound. Now that they have his attention, his face contorts into a judging stare — true, ill-concealed disgust. 
He shakes his head in disapproval, “Don’t worry about her, babe.”
“Worry about what?” You huff to hide the fact that you’re bothered and brimming with jealousy, but he sees right through the facade and decides to distract you by running his open hands up the front of your legs. 
He glides his tongue along the sharp edge of his top teeth, teasing you with the sight while he hooks his index fingers through your front belt loops and rubs the pads of his thumbs across the exposed skin, just above the waistband of your jeans. He tugs you forward by the denim loops, making you fall onto his lap. As you tumble onto him, giggles of your own break free, and if you were paying any attention, you would have seen Josh pick his head up and glance over in your direction.  
Holding you by the hips, Jake balances you on top of his legs with the help of your hands resting on his shoulders. You’re close. So close that you can feel the warmth of his skin and breath with every soft exhale. It doesn’t help that the phone call has been corrupting your mind the last few days, and now that you can actually touch him, those thoughts start to get away from you. You breathe him in and notice that he smells exquisite, and expensive from the high-end cologne placed directly on his pulse points.
He soaks in the sight of you through heavy lids while rocking you forward, just enough to give your imagination a taste. “Wanna get outta here?”
The question throws you off given that it’s the middle of the day and the shop is at its busiest. So the casual offer with the tone of his voice that’s playful enough, makes you question his real intentions behind it. “Don’t you have appointments?”
“I have a bit of a break today.” He shrugs, responding matter-of-factly with an absent-minded lick of his lips.
He can’t help but smile waiting for your answer while you think over your decision. If you weren’t so distracted, you might be able to, but their genetic similarities between them are screaming at you. Those dark, full prominent brows that express the slightest change in their moods, the corners of their lips that curl up with the faintest of smiles, the same defined nose, even down to the dimple marking their left cheeks. 
He’s made you go from feeling shy and nervous to wishing you had him in private all to yourself within seconds. You desperately want to kiss him, but you just know you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself if you crossed the threshold. Once you got that taste of him on your tongue, you’d shamelessly rock yourself on his lap without a care in the world that anyone could be watching. 
You clear your throat, pulling yourself from your daydream to entertain the idea of leaving with him, “Where would we go?”
Now that he’s hooked you, that fun smile on his face darkens — turning almost mischievous. “Ahh…see, that’s for you to find out, dove.” 
“Of course it is,” You grumble sarcastically while giving into his mysterious ways before you ease yourself off of his legs to stand on your feet.  Jake follows suit, wincing through a groan of pain as he pushes himself off the chair. He stops to work out the stiffness of his muscles with a long stretch of his arms over his head, giving you a quick view of his stomach from his lifted shirt. 
You stand patiently while he takes a few large sips of the coffee and gathers his phone and keys from the desk. He ushers you toward the stairs, guiding you with a hand placed on the small of your back. The small gesture speaks volumes given the circumstances that have developed over the last few minutes, and though you’ve been trying to ignore them, you chance a look over to Josh’s station.
 Josh is staring right at you, just watching you leave without even offering him a simple hello. It’s the first time you’ve seen that cold, unnerving look being shot across the room at his twin. He’s upset, and you would almost feel guilty if it wasn’t for that girl yanking his attention back to her. 
Jake doesn’t pay him any mind, which you can’t say surprises you. He’s been given the opportunity to stoke the embers of Josh’s jealousy, and that’s not something he’s willing to pass up.
You get to the bottom of the stairs and just when you think he’s gonna walk to the front door of the shop, he takes you by the hand and brings you behind the front counter. Sam’s still in his designated spot, unpacking boxes of jewelry to display in the expansive glass case. He looks up from his task once he notices you and gives another passing nod, but whips his head back for a double take when he sees that you’re with Jake instead of Josh. 
Before Sam can utter a single syllable, Jake calls over his shoulder, “I’ll be back in an hour.” Jake doesn’t give him a chance to respond, and he continues to pull you through the privacy curtain to the hallway.
It feels like you’re crossing into a forbidden area not meant for you, but you try to absorb all the details the best you can anyway. The first room on your left appears to be the room Sam uses for piercing based on the equipment and setup inside. Directly across the hall from it is a bathroom, followed by a small office and a storage closet. The same man from when you first walked into the shop scoots past the both of you, sends a wink, and slaps Jake’s shoulder. “Have fun, you two.”
You follow Jake through the hallway until you come to the back room area. He walks up to a row of old, spray-painted lockers that are mounted to the side of the wall next to the door. “Who was that?”
“Danny.” He answers with his back turned to you and pulls a leather jacket from one of the hooks holding a variety of clothes. He peers over his shoulder to gauge your demeanor. “Don’t tell me you got eyes on him, too.”
You cross your arms and laugh, “I wouldn’t want to humble that ego of yours.” He shakes his head and grabs not one, but two helmets, one glossy white and the other matte black, from a different set of mounted hooks. “What are those for?”
“I’ll show you.”
He takes the lead out the back door, past the dumpster, and out to a small parking lot behind the building — big enough to hold three spaces. You spot and instantly recognize the red, older Camry that was in their driveway when you were at their house last. And next to Josh’s beater, is a motorcycle. 
The last thing you would call yourself is an expert on the topic, but it looks like a classic, vintage style of bike. It’s not big and bulky like what you’ve seen with massive Harley motorcycles, but it’s also not a sleek, modern sport bike either. You would guess that it fits somewhere in the middle of that spectrum. 
You take a few steps closer to it, shaking your head with a grin spreading across your face.“Why am I not surprised?”
He sets the helmets down on the hood of Josh’s car, but it’s obvious he’s been waiting for your reaction from how his ears perk up. “You ride?”
“No, I mean, I’m not surprised that you have a bike,” you explain. While you’re learning new things about the man every day, this is something that just seems fitting. You continue to stare at it, admiring a beauty that you don’t fully understand yet. “It makes sense.”
With the bike between you, you watch as he pulls his hair back into a low bun and secures it with an elastic from his wrist.“It does? How so?”
You shrug, but his eyes are locked onto you, making you bite at your lip. “I don’t know…you seem like the adrenaline junkie type. Always pushing the limit. That kind of thing.”
He’s amused by your words and shows a soft smile on his lips before pulling the white helmet off the car and walking toward you. “Interesting.”
You know he’ll eventually win, but you can’t make the game too easy for him. With the steps he takes around the bike, you take one back and motion to his hand. “You even got the spare helmet and everything. How often do you offer these kinds of rides?”
He stops in his tracks and scoffs, “Hey, I’m not the one with some random woman fucking me with her eyes right now. No need to get territorial with me, love.” 
It was an expertly placed jab that throws you right back into reality. Josh had been pushed to the sidelines and now he exists in the forefront of your mind thanks to Jake’s little quippy remark. He’s right though. You’ve experienced enough jealousy for the day, and it doesn’t do you any good to carry it over to him. 
He tries handing you the helmet, but you cross your arms and turn your head away from him.  You’re testing him with your attitude, making him push out a frustrated sigh as he takes another step. He’s close enough now that the helmet is pressing up against your stomach. “I am not about to risk having your head crack open on the pavement like an egg because you wanna be a smartass. So either put it on and listen, or go back inside and mope. Your choice.”
“Someone’s bossy today.” You reach for the helmet, but he jerks it away before you can grab it.
“There are a few rules.” His voice is stern with a new serious tone. While looking directly into your eyes and holding out his index finger to emphasize the point, he instructs, “First, you always hold onto me. No exceptions. And I don’t mean those soft little hugs and holding on to only my shirt. I mean you fucking hold onto me when we’re moving.” He takes the helmet and places it at the crown of your head and with a bit of effort, he’s able to slide it on comfortably. It’s a snug fit around your face, and the outside sounds are instantly muffled. He flips the interior and exterior visor up by pressing a button on the side of the helmet. “Hey. Try to be aware of your surroundings, but make sure to keep your weight steady with me, especially when you turn your head to look around.”
He takes the leather jacket and gestures to your arms so he can put it on you. “The bike will almost turn on its own.” His jacket hugs your curves better than both of you anticipated, making him smile. He zips it up and then fastens the chin strap of your helmet as he continues, “So keeping that balance with me is important. It’s really all about the hips, so I need you to squeeze your legs tight and lean forward into my back.”
You nod slowly as you take in the bits of information, feeling a little clumsy and disoriented due to the additional weight on your head. After he tugs at the jacket in different spots on your body to inspect the fit, he taps the top of your helmet. “Comfortable?”
“I think so,” you laugh nervously as you adjust to his leather wrapped around your skin. It’s soft, made of rich, genuine leather that’s held the shape of his body and kept his scent within its worn material. Despite the warm, sunny day, you forgo questioning the need for it, because in all honesty, just having the feeling of something that belongs to him on your skin is enough of a reason. 
“Ready to take a ride with me, dove?” He asks and finds the answer from the smile in your eyes since the bottom half of your face is covered by the interior of the helmet. He holds that gaze and shoots you a wink while simultaneously blowing a teasing kiss. He seals the flirty moment with a snap of his gum between his teeth and flips your visor down with the flick of his fingers. 
Now satisfied that you’re set in the protective gear, he wiggles his helmet onto his head, face disappearing into the matte-black protective shell. You watch as he transforms into this separate world, taking on another level of confidence and you’re quick to note all the intricate details from this side of him. After he secures his chin strap, he retrieves two pairs of gloves from the hidden seat compartment and hands you the extras. 
He mounts the bike and motions to you to get on. The nerves are starting to set in, causing your legs to start taking on the qualities of Jello. You brace yourself on his shoulders and swing a leg over the back to slide into place. He patiently waits for you to get into position on the seat and find the spokes to put your feet on. You think you have it, but you’re startled when he reaches back and hooks his hands behind both of your knees, and pulls you closer. 
He goes through the process of putting on his gloves, doing those final adjustments to his helmet, and finally starts the motorcycle. Its engine roars to life and mellows out to a vibrational purr between your legs. 
“You good?” He shouts back at you, but most of the volume of his voice is muffled through the helmet. You answer by wrapping your arms around his waist and giving him a tight squeeze. He rubs your knee in response and gives it a comforting pat before driving out of the parking lot. 
You’re scared. You won’t deny it. Nothing is holding you on except for the strength of your arms and legs. As much as you’re trying to hide it from him, he knows that you’re working through the fear, and stays at a reasonable speed, taking the turns of his route carefully until you get accustomed to the feel of the bike. This level of exposure is nothing like what you’ve experienced before. These same streets you drive daily feel new, and with every shift of a new gear, a wave of adrenaline surges through your veins.
It’s like a rollercoaster, just more dangerous. 
You look around at the buildings to guess where he might be taking you until you hear that familiar Bluetooth pairing chime inside your helmet. At first, you think you might’ve imagined it, but the sound is immediately followed by Jake’s smooth voice cracking through the headpiece, “You better hold me a bit tighter, love.” You startle from the unexpected sound, making him chuckle, “I promise I won’t bite that hard.”
He stops at a red light, giving you the chance to relax enough and mutter a curse. “You’re a dick.”
That laugh of his — so delicately woven within the static of the microphone as it fills your head. “Oh come on! You’re having fun. Don’t lie to me.”
You hope he doesn’t have a camera inside the helmet to catch your dramatic eye roll. You’re sulking, maybe due to the fact you’re a little embarrassed he had one up on you this entire time. “You could’ve told me about the helmet.”
While balancing the combined weight of the bike and both of your bodies on his foot, he reaches back and rubs your outer thigh. “And risk not being able to hear all those little whimpers you’re making? Not a chance.”
That flusters you, making the grip loosen around his midsection. He takes your hands, gives a reassuring squeeze and he places them back in their spot before taking off when the light finally changes. 
The position you’re holding is a bit awkward at first due to the urge to slide in as close as possible, but after a few minutes of riding, it becomes natural. You eventually take in the scene, watching the cars pass by as he rides between the lanes of traffic. 
“So where are you taking me?”
He chuckles before sending the song of his sigh into your earpiece, “You like tacos?” 
The randomness of the question makes you giggle. “Yeah, I like tacos.”
“Good. I know the perfect spot.”
He pulls the bike into a mostly-empty parking lot of what looks like an abandoned strip mall. Looking around, you spot the taco truck set up at the far end and a few picnic tables scattered in a grassy area off to the side. 
He kills the engine, pulls off his gloves, and helps dismount the bike. “This is the hot spot?”
“I can feel your judgment already. Don’t knock a food truck until you try it, okay?”
After placing your order, you follow him out to the picnic tables while you wait for your food. He sets his helmet down and climbs onto the wooden table with his feet resting on the bench. You watch him dig out a fresh pack of cigarettes and tap the box against his palm. He peels the plastic wrapper off, flips the top open, and grasps the filter of one between his lips. 
“The gum wasn’t cutting it?” You tease as you approach him and set your helmet beside his. 
He freezes with the open Zippo in hand and the paper of the cigarette sticking to his bottom lip, and looks up at you just as he’s about to light it. A different emotion flashes before you, that guilty look of being caught red-handed. It transforms into a nearly undetectable smirk while he flicks the lighter, brings the flame to the end of the cigarette, and pulls in a satisfying drag that hollows out his cheeks, “Studying my bad habits?”
“That, or maybe you’re just more predictable than you think, Jacob.”
His eyes narrow with the use of his full name. “Predictable? That’s a new one.”
A random surge of confidence compels you to pluck the burning cigarette from between his fingers and bring it up to your lips. You’ve been to enough parties and social situations throughout the years to be familiar with it enough to not act clueless. Even so, the way he’s looking at you causes your hands to shake and for you to cast your eyes elsewhere.
“Yeah.” You pause to gesture with the cigarette in your hand with a sassy click of your tongue. “This whole dark and mysterious bad-boy thing is nothing but a front.”
He leans forward with his elbows propped on his knees to watch you pull in a drag of your own, and his expression seems amused to say the least. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself, doll.”
It’s full-bodied and harsh on your tongue from holding it in your mouth. To impress him and not make an ass out of yourself, you let your bottom lip fall open so you can push the smoke with your tongue to inhale through your nose. You fight the itching urge to cough as you blow what’s left out of your lungs into the air. While exuding the same energy of a best friend’s cooler, older brother, he sees right through the little trick you’ve learned years ago. 
Biting back that cocky grin that’s twisting his lips, he takes your wrist and guides your hand slowly up to his mouth. You feel his lips brush ever-so-carefully across your palm before he wraps them around the filter stuck between your fingers. 
He mimics the same smoke trick you had done but with the natural ease of being an actual smoker. You try to stay calm and collected while you swallow back the swell of nausea and light-headedness from the rush of nicotine into your system.
“You good?” He asks, blowing the smoky exhale out from the corner of his mouth.
You nod, grunting through the burning sensation eating away deep within your throat. Thankfully, your order being called out from the window of the truck saves you at the moment. You bolt to the window, leaving him at his spot on the table.  
Everything is piping hot and made fresh to order with the most authentic ingredients you’ve ever seen. Jake is quick to pour the plastic ramekin of hot sauce across his order of tacos and starts to devour one of them before you can even finish unwrapping your food from the foil. 
He’s truly lost in the experience with eyes rolling back while a stream of bright-orange juices from his taco drip down his chin before he has the chance to wipe it clean. “These always hit the spot.”
“How did you find this place?”
He wipes a napkin across his mouth before answering, “Years ago I did a tattoo for one of the owners during a convention and he bought us some of his food the next day for lunch. The guys and I have been stopping by here ever since.”
It’s hard not to be distracted by his bare arms, the way the sleeves of his tattoos move with every flex of his muscles. It would take you hours to examine each piece of inked artwork, but he’s already catching on to you staring at him. You break your eyes away to look off into the distance, making a mental note of the place for the future. “I’ll have to come by here again.”
He shoves the rest of his taco into his mouth, mumbling around it, “Are we gonna talk about it, or just have small talk about the food?”
You drop your eyes to your styrofoam tray of food in front of you. “Talk about what?”
He wipes his mouth and fingers clean with another paper napkin. “Ya’ know, about what happened back at the shop.”
It was naive to hope that Jake wouldn’t eventually bring it up and think it was something that could have been easily forgotten. “Nothing happened.”
He scoffs a harsh laugh, “Right. And that’s why you sulked and almost took off without saying anything?” You stay silent and take another bite while still avoiding eye contact. “Are you gonna talk to him?”
He’s putting you on the spot and you haven’t even had the chance to process your feelings about it, let alone give him any sort of thought-out answer. “About what exactly?”
“That what he did bothers you,” he says flatly before taking a bite of his second taco. 
You push the helping of rice around on the tray. “How can I? Go up to him and say ‘Hey, Josh, I don’t want you to sleep with anyone else even though I’m also fucking your brother’?  You do know that sounds absolutely insane, Jake?”
He agrees with an empathetic lift of his brows and shrugs his shoulders while he finishes the second taco. “Maybe.”
“And why do you care anyway?” You hiss at him with far more attitude than you realize, making him the target of your frustration. “Doesn’t that go against your own…motives?”
He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth from the heat of the hot sauce before letting out an amused chuckle, “You act like I have this grand evil plan, dove. I don’t really care what’s happening between you and Josh. Now granted, I can’t say I thoroughly enjoy sharing you with him, but I do think you might be a little hard on yourself with this one.” 
You finally look up, prompting him to meet your weak gaze. You study him, searching for what his true intentions in this conversation are. “I think it would just make things worse.”
Something washes over his stoic expression, making him shift his weight on the seat of the picnic table to straighten out his posture. He starts to fidget with the silver skull ring on his left ring finger, spinning it around as if he’s suddenly feeling apprehensive. “Would you be this upset if it was me instead of him?”
Was that jealousy? You watch him closely, noting the stiff, slightly-annoyed movements of hands picking up his last taco before he takes a bite. “What do you mean?”
He looks directly at you, causing the afternoon sunlight to catch his deep-brown eyes, turning them into a rich-golden toffee.“What if I was the one sleeping around with someone else?”
The question leaves your mouth before you have a chance to think it through, “Are you?!”
Just like that, you reveal a little more than you intend to. Your reaction was panicked and insecure when it should have been casual and collected. Now that he knows more about where you stand, that little smirk of his slowly forms on his lips. You can kiss the thought of getting an answer from him goodbye because unlike the phone call the other night, he’s sober at this moment. Your chance of pulling out any information that’s being locked away in that brain of his is nonexistent. 
As you both finish up eating your lunch, he can’t ward off the reality that it’s time for him to take you back to the shop. However, you’re relieved to find that the second time mounting the bike is a bit more graceful than the first, and most of the nervousness you felt, in the beginning, is quickly dissipating the more time you spend with him. He must sense your comfort level because he’s now splitting between lanes of traffic and becoming a little more daring with his speed than he did initially. 
From what you can remember, the ride back to the shop isn’t a long one, and regardless of whatever tension lives between the two of you, you feel safe with him. It doesn’t take long for you to sway effortlessly along with him and get a true sense of how the bike moves on the road. You fall back into your thoughts, wishing that you can feel the soft fabric of his t-shirt against your cheek instead of the helmet getting in your way or the thick material of the gloves covering your fingers. Despite your senses being restricted by the protective gear, it doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around his midsection. 
That secure hold on him becomes exploratory as you feel up and down his stomach, over his slender hips, and eventually lower onto his lap. When he stops at the next red light, you feel bold enough to feel across the tops of his thighs. You squeeze your legs around him even tighter than before, molding yourself against his body, and he can’t hide the change in his breathing as it’s picked up through the microphone of the intercom. You look over his shoulder to see him tapping his fingers impatiently on the clutch while your hands continue to roam over his legs. You become mesmerized by that alone, watching the tendons and muscles of his forearm move with each flex of his fingers on the clutch lever.
Through the gloves and the material of his pants, you feel something hard when you graze your hand back up his leg, which makes him groan and squirm against the seat. You bite into your smile and decide to do it again, but this time grabbing him with more purpose than before. 
There’s no mistaking his erection when a low growl crackles through your earpiece. He grabs your wrist, stopping the movements of your hand on his lap while giving you the stern warning, “You better behave yourself.”
You fight against the hold he has on you, hooking your fingers around his inner thigh. Making sure to keep your voice innocent, yet bratty, you ask, “And if I don’t?” 
He cocks his head to the side as if to look back at you, and you can feel his leg bouncing while you continue to rub him through his pants. You swear he’s leaning backward into your embrace, but before he can scold you or utter a single word, a car’s horn honks from behind you, startling you both. 
The bike acts like it’s suddenly gained consciousness and bucks forward a few inches before the engine cuts itself off. It takes you a second to understand what’s happened until you come to realize that he’s stalled it.
 “Fuck!” He curses harshly while rushing to restart the bike with the looming pressure building from the line of cars behind him. He manages to bring his motorcycle back to life easily, and the relief of finally passing through the clear intersection washes over him. “That was fucking embarrassing,” he mumbles under his breath. 
Your hands find their way back to his stomach, and you give him a reassuring squeeze even if your tone is slightly patronizing. “It’s okay. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
He accepts your gesture with a giggle as he pats your hand that’s resting just above his navel. “If you do, I might have to kill you.”
Unfortunately, for the remainder of the ride, Jake proves to not be much of a conversationalist and fills the time by playing music through the helmets instead of chatting with you. You try not to let it bother you, but then you’re thrown when he pulls the bike into an open parking space in front of the shop, instead of his designated spot in the back. 
You step into the shop for the second time today but with Jake by your side. You’re greeted by the same faces, but now with the addition of Josh and the woman he was tattooing when you left. She’s standing at the counter, leaning over so much that her ass sticks out, touching his arm while he works on closing out her payment. 
“We should really get a drink sometime,” she offers, shamelessly making her move without caring that it’s in front of an audience. 
Josh smiles, and you can see the blush pink ending the apples of his cheeks. “Yeah, maybe.”
You’re not exactly sure where this feeling is coming from. You wouldn’t consider yourself an overly jealous or confrontational type of person. But just to hear her voice, to see her reach out and touch him the way she is —  it’s making you act irrationally. What you should do is remain calm, say your goodbyes to the guys, and head home for the rest of the day. 
But you don’t.
That impulse that’s been simmering within yourself like an unattended pot finally boils over, causing you to take Jake’s hand in yours. There’s a powerful determination in your strides as you drag him over to the front counter. You’re the one taking the lead, using the same path he had used with you when you left the shop. It feels as though time is slowing down like you were trapped in that cliche scene of a movie. As you push past Josh and his client, you pretend he’s simply a stranger, that the chemistry and moments shared between you are figments of his imagination.
She simply scoffs and scoots out of your way while Josh freezes in place, stuck staring at you with this incredulous look of shock. His expression instantly sours with anger when Jake steps with you, but you don’t bother with an explanation as you make your way to the back hallway. You want your actions to make a point for you. 
Despite his brother’s sudden change in mood, Jake doesn’t resist in the slightest as you yank him down the hall. You step into the small office with him in tow, spin dramatically on your heels, and with your hands placed firmly on his chest, you shove him against the back of the door hard enough for it to slam shut with a thud. 
You’re inches away from his face, breathing heavily while your heart pounds wildly within your chest. You’ve pulled that trigger, now all that’s left is to follow through with your plan. You know it will end poorly, but his divine scent, the warmth of his body through his t-shirt, and the throaty sound of his laugh divert your attention from that fact while simultaneously causing the walls of your confidence to crumble. 
“Doesn’t bother you, huh?” He asks through an airy giggle while he wraps his fingers around your wrist and looks down at you through sleepy lids with that smug, feline smile appearing on his mouth. 
“Shut up.” You swallow thickly, fixating solely on his lips that he’s wetting with the tip of his tongue. You don’t give yourself the chance to overthink what’s happening before your mouth comes crashing down on him. The kiss you give him is not gentle, graceful, or even teasing. It’s walking along the lines of desperate, demanding at best as you shove your tongue into his mouth in the need to taste him. 
He welcomes you with a low groan, and his hand finds your cheek to pull you in closer. Whatever this is, it’s impulsive and rushed —  far from the scene he painted on that phone call. You’re both sweaty and uncomfortable from being crammed in this tiny office, but you don’t care, and neither does he, given how his tongue is sliding across yours. As he cradles your cheek, you struggle to keep your hands in one spot for longer than a second. They leave the nape of his neck to massage across his chest until they grasp onto the fabric on his t-shirt in clenched fists. 
While he takes his time savoring the kiss, you’re in a frantic need, borderline clawing at the button and zipper of his jeans. You impatiently huff, “Would you just fuck me already?”
Without warning, he grabs both of your wrists, flips both of you around, and knocks you up against the door. Before you can react and utter a single word, he snatches your throat in the blink of an eye, claiming the air from your lungs. The hold he has on you is controlled, but gentle. He keeps you still, taking precious seconds to examine all the intricate details while he breathes you in. You try to watch him through your lashes, but you’re too distracted by the silver bands of his rings pressing into the soft flesh of your neck with the calculated squeeze of his fingers. 
“If you want to use me to make him jealous, you better be ready for it, dove,” He croons just above a whisper, the breath of his voice fanning across your parted lips — the sound of it having the richness of freshly-pulled espresso, dark and intense.
If you’re the vixen, he’s the wolf — giving you that false sense of security while you’ve been prancing around thinking you’ve had control, that he’s softened up to you. But in reality, you’ve been distracted this entire time while he prowls that clearing, waiting for the perfect moment to change everything for you.  
That addicting, devilish smile flashes before you. “Are you?”
His eyes seem to darken, pupils blown with desire as they drift down to your lips. You nod, whispering a faint, “Yes.”
If you were paying attention, you would have heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall, but you didn’t. The feeling of the doorknob turning and the door being pushed open is what pulls you out of your trance. 
Jake throws an open hand to the door and shoves it closed with a harsher thud than you did moments ago. He flips the lock before the other person has the chance to push it open again. When they realize this with a second attempt, they proceed to bang their fist on the other side of the door. 
“Are you fucking serious?!” A muffled, angry voice calls out while giving one final push to the door.
It’s Josh.
Jake doesn’t seem bothered by the jarring interruption in the slightest, so little in fact that he starts to place kisses on your neck.
You push against his chest enough to break the contact of his lips to your skin. “He sounds mad, Jake”
He presents a cocky smile to you, but his eyes are focusing on your lips while his thumb sweeps across them. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
You can’t say you were expecting Josh’s confrontation, but it makes you question your motives, and with that, guilt and worry jump on the chance to weasel their way into your mind, causing a shift in your disposition. “Yeah…but—“
He takes your chin in his hand and carefully tilts your head up so you’re looking at him directly. He looks down at you, peering through heavy lids in admiration. Now that he has your full attention, he coos with a certain assurance, “Hey, don’t get in your head about it. He’ll be pissy for a bit, but he’ll get over it.”
You scoff dramatically, breaking free from his loose grasp. He dips his head back to its place in the crook of your neck, letting out a deep sigh, “He can’t hold a grudge to save his life.” While your fingers weave into his hair, he peppers your shoulder with kisses, mumbling through each one, “Especially with you.” 
You’ve been holding a breath in your chest despite the aching feeling it gives you, but you push it out the second he sinks his teeth into the flesh which sends a chill down the length of your spine. He squeezes a handful of your ass, giving himself the ability to grind himself against your hip. You groan at the feeling of his erection pressing into you, making him smile against your skin before he teases, “Besides, I believe that you’ll find ways to make it up to him.”
You lean against the door while you try to collect your thoughts. Even though you’re swimming in feelings and emotions, you’re still clear-headed enough to be irritable toward Josh. “Yeah, well, he should be finding ways to make it up to me.”
Your response makes him laugh and retreat from your neck, but only to hover his lips over yours, “There’s my girl.”
He seems pleased and releases his hand from around your throat and balances his weight on his other arm against the door. He’s hovering above you, boxing you in with his arms against the door. The touch of his lips is a blessing and a curse as he presses them into the delicate skin, that tender spot right below your ear. You’re at his mercy, and you both know it.  
He pops open the button of your jeans with ease and slips his hand under the denim and the fabric of your panties. You try to spread your legs for him in the standing position, but he’d already nestled in the heat between your thighs. To your surprise, he doesn’t make you beg this time, and slips his middle finger through your folds, coating himself in the building wetness of your arousal. 
“Fuck,” you moan louder than expected as you buck into the palm of his hand, grasping onto his wrist that’s half-buried in the front of your pants. You instinctively clench your legs around him, but his fingers glide over you despite the restrictions. 
“Little worked up?” He pants, the heat of his breath clinging to your neck. You react by digging your nails into the flesh of his arm, but he’s already busy circling your clit with the calloused pad of his finger. 
“Fuck you,” you say in a breathy sigh, but the insult is as empty as your mind is right now. The only thought existing in the brain fog is your need to satiate the craving for him, and you’ve decided you’re not leaving until you do. 
He repositions slightly, pinning you firmly against the door as he braces himself. He hums and gives a nip to your jaw “Oh don’t worry, dove. You’ll get to.”
He adds his index finger, flicking the bundle of nerves with the lightest of touches.
You whine out, and your legs start to shake in fatigue from holding yourself against the door. He rolls his hips against you in search of friction, giving away that he’s been wanting this just as badly. “You been thinking about me, dove? Playing with this pretty little cunt pretending it’s me doing it?”
You whimper an incoherent answer. He slips his middle finger through your slick until it's right at your entrance. Even he’s surprised with how easily his finger glides inside you. ‘Fuck, you’re so wet. Did the bike feel good, sweetheart?” He curls it inside while his thumb works your clit, working off the reactions of your body beneath him. “He can’t do that for you, can he?”
He could be speaking an entirely different language to you and it wouldn’t matter at this moment. Every word from his mouth sounds more distorted than the last as that heat builds between your trembling legs. With how close you are, you can only writhe and claw at his arm, responding to him with pathetic whimpers and moans. 
He adds a second finger, stretching you out that much more, and starts to pump them inside you with however much your jeans allow. “You know he’s out there right now. Wishing he could fuck you…feel you like this.”
You cry out his name and you put no effort in keeping your voice low and quiet. You’ve been holding onto him this entire time, and now you have most of his t\shirt balled in your fists to ground yourself to him. He’s intertwined with you, rocking his waist with yours as you climb to the tipping point of your release. He’s so close that the bridge of his nose is digging into the side of your cheek, but you can’t be bothered to care about the sting the pressure causes. You want it, you need him to lose himself with you. 
You’re rapidly approaching your peak, and there’s no question that he can feel you tighten and flutter around him. He pushes a growl from his throat against the shell of your ear, “There you go, give it all to me. I know you’re close, dove.” He drags his swollen lips down the column of your neck while his fingers sweep that special spot inside you. “She needs me so badly.” 
As if he’s yanked the threads of your composure with the simple demand, you unravel completely. He holds you tightly, riding the waves of your orgasm as you shake uncontrollably against his hand.
After giving you a minute to come down from your high, he pulls his hand from your jeans and rests it on your hip while he catches his breath. You release your hold on the back of his shirt and let your fingers wander down the length of his body until you find what you’re searching for. You’re pleased to know that he’s still just as hard as he was, throbbing away against your palm.
You take the initiative by grabbing his hips and sliding down with your back to the door until you’re balanced on your knees. Your confidence always falters when you see him, but you can’t resist the temptation to look up. 
The image of him above you takes your breath away. You watch his chest heave with every breath pushing past his parted lips while he braces his weight against the door on an extended arm. His long hair has come loose from his bun and is now falling around his face, some of it even clinging to the sweat that has collected on his cheeks and forehead. His eyes meet yours for a brief moment, but his surprise shows on his raised brows when he sees your hands meet at the button of his pants. 
You watch him process what’s about to happen and the absentminded lick across his lips before they spread wide into a full grin. He brings his other hand to rest on the crown of your head before his fingers slip through your hair. 
The way his dull nails scratch across your scalp is almost enough to distract you, but you’re determined. You make quick work of his button and zipper, opening the front of his pants enough so you can pull his cock free. The noise he makes the second you have him in your hand is a sound you wish you could replay forever. He’s heavy and thick in your grasp — his skin is hot to the touch, tacky against your fingers as you slowly stroke him. 
He suddenly tugs at your hair by the roots, yanking your attention back up to him. “Just know you’re not fooling me, sweetheart.” The stinging sensation with the authority in his voice makes you ache for him even more. He relaxes his grip on your hair for a more affectionate touch, one that one might use for a pet. “Acting all innocent…but here you are hungry for my cock like the pretty little whore you are.”
You squeeze your fingers around the base, making him hum from your choice of answer.  You wish you had all the time in the world to tease him, to edge him slowly until he is the one begging. You don’t. Since you’re on borrowed time as it is, you bring him to your lips and lick around the head of his cock before gliding him over your flattened tongue. He shudders at the warm, wet feeling, and his fingers curl involuntarily against your scalp. 
You quickly find your rhythm, bobbing on him while you use your hand for what your lips can’t reach. The saltiness of his sweat lingers on your tongue and the natural scent of his body floods your mind — adding to the impulsiveness of your decisions. His splayed fingers slide to the back of your head so he can push himself even deeper. You take him without complaint, letting his cock hit the back of your throat. 
You gag around him almost instantly, so forcefully that you have to pull away with just a string of spit connecting your lips to his cock. The tears welling in your eyes have clouded your vision, but you hear him hum in approval, “That’s it, baby girl.”
Acting on his praise, you wrap your lips around him once again. Your movements and techniques are sloppy and uncoordinated, but you find that only seems to turn him on even more. The messier you are with his cock in your mouth and the more depraved you look on your knees, the closer he gets. 
Through your wet lashes, you see that his eyes are clamped shut in what looks like a grimace of pain, but you know that it’s far from it. You also note how his mouth hangs open while tiny moans and whispered curses escape freely. He’s somewhere else in his mind, fighting the temptation to let go completely into the back of your throat. He’s been allowing you to take the lead as long as he can, but he’s losing the battle of self-control and gives in by pressing the heel of his palm to your forehead and guiding your head to the back of the door. 
He finally takes that control, and with each thrust into your mouth, he pushes the back of your head into the wood just a bit more. The act isn’t painful, but it’s far from comfortable. You’re greedy for the praise, for the lewd sounds he makes, for the reactions of his body from how good you feel. You want to keep going but the muscles of your legs are starting to strain with fatigue and your jaw is starting to ache past the point of being bearable.
You reach up to tap his hand and he instantly releases his grip on your hair and withdraws himself from your mouth. If you were him, you would see your makeup has smeared down your cheeks, your red, swollen lips and chin glistening with your drool, and that glazed, already fucked-out look in your eyes.
“Jake,” you try to speak, but his name barely comes out as a hoarse whisper.
He just stares at you with a blank expression on his face, and for a second you worry that he didn’t hear you until he eventually mumbles out, “Huh?”
“I need you.”
He nods and reaches down to hook his hands under your arms, helping you up off the floor. You don’t have to balance your weight for long because he spins you both again and guides you to the desk behind you. In one fluid motion, he tugs your jeans and underwear down your legs and lifts you onto the top of the desk.
He hooks his hands around the backs of your knees and pulls you forward to the very edge before wrapping your legs around his waist. Everything is happening faster than you can process, but what you can do is bring his lips to yours for a kiss.
With his cock in hand, he glides himself through your folds to coat himself in your arousal. He holds himself at your entrance, waiting for your permission and the anticipation nearly kills you, but all he wants is to hear how badly you need it. 
“Jake…please.” Your desperate plea tumbles into his mouth through your kiss. 
He smiles against your lips as he rolls his hips forward, nudging the head of his cock into your waiting cunt. He pulls himself out, only to push all the way to the hilt in a single thrust. However, he’s not done dragging this out, because now that he’s fully inside you, right where you want him to be, he slowly withdraws — so slowly that it’s borderline torture. 
While you groan in protest, he’s looking down, watching you tense and tighten around his cock in hopes of keeping him close. “Fuck, you take me so well,” He grunts before snapping his hips forward, and because you’ve adjusted to his size, he glides back into you with ease. 
As much as you love the idea of him watching himself fuck you, you need him close. You bring him flush against you with your legs locked around him in a vice-grip hold. He stalls his movements, but he makes up for it by sweeping the hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear so he can whisper, “You look prettier with me inside you.”
The thought of arguing with him on that fact crosses your mind, but this is where his sweet affection ends. He’s done with the sensual teasing and decides to set a very different pace for himself. You make the note to consider yourself lucky up until this point, because now you’re struggling to keep your sounds discreet. 
A forceful thrust of his cock against your cervix causes a yelp to break free and his hand flies to your mouth to muffle your cries. He chuckles with a shake of his head, but it's lazy and breathy while he continues to fuck you, “You gotta be quiet. There are still people here.” 
His hands have been everywhere on you — around the nape of your neck, on your hips, across your back, and almost every inch of your legs. He settles on your throat once more, but this time making the point to squeeze his fingers into the flesh. “Whose pussy is this? Hmm? Tell me.”
You’re becoming more light-headed by the second, but you’re eager to give him the answer he desires, “Yours.”
While he’s been just shy of being rough with you, his rhythm slows enough so he can ask, “Who? I don’t think I heard a name, dove.”
“Yours, Jake! Yours!”
Satisfied with your answer, he lets go of your neck to brush his knuckles along your jaw. “That’s right. Good girl.” Hearing him calling you ‘good girl’ will never cease to make you melt, so there’s nothing that can stop you from letting your head fall against his. “Don’t forget that she’s mine.”
The slip of his possessiveness only fuels your desire. It should have you running the other direction, but here you are wanting him to claim you — to take what he deems rightfully his.
His thrusts give him away before his words do. His panting breath fans across your cheek with every exhale, “I’m so close. How bad do you want it?”
You know exactly what he means, and you don’t hesitate to beg him for it, “Bad. Pl-please, Jake. Come inside me, please.”
The sweet, pitchy sound of your request causes him to falter. “Oh fuck, baby. You want me to fill you up?” The words are broken up between thrusts and the sharp inhale of breath through clenched teeth. “Mark her as mine?”
While he’s been holding out as long as he could, the final few pumps buried deep inside you force him to succumb to his release. He gives you what you’re so desperate for —  the addicting warmth of his cum filling you with every heavy pulse and twitch of his cock. 
He stays perfectly still wrapped in your embrace to soak up the moment and take in the feeling of your pussy spasming around his softening cock. You’re not sure how much time passes until he slides out of you and tucks himself back into his pants while admiring the mess he’s left between your legs.“What a beautiful sight.”
Just when you think it’s all over, his fingers dance along your inner thigh. “How’s it feel? Me dripping out of you like this?”
You’re not sure what to say. If you were coherent in any capacity, you still might not have anything to say. 
He gladly accepts your listless state and the silence as the best answer. He rolls his thumb over your swollen, over-stimulated clit that’s covered in his cum, making you squirm from the touch. He clicks his tongue, but doesn’t pull his hand away, “She can’t even hold it all in, poor thing.” 
You say his name again as a warning, but in reality, it’s a weak lie. If it was up to you, he would never stop touching you if you could help it. You just can’t say you expected him to shove his fingers inside you again. 
It’s only for a brief moment and then they are gone, leaving you empty. You stare at him in pure disbelief as he brings those same, wet fingers to his mouth and wipes them across his tongue. He leans forward to kiss you, making sure to share whatever he licked off. “Taste that? That’s us and don’t you ever fucking forget it.”
You’re left speechless, and when he realizes you won’t answer him, he asks a follow-up question with more deliberation, “Do you understand me?”
You nod despite your sweaty face sticking to the side of his. “Yes, Jake.”
He hums to himself, “I had a feeling you were going to be a good listener.”
TAGLIST:
@gretavanbitches @dannyandthekiszkas @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @asparrowofthedawn @ageofnations @welightthefire @garbagevanfleet @lvnterninthenight @pennylanefics @writingcold @alexxavicry @gvfficrecs @jakeyboiiiiiii @doodle417 @richjaaasss @pr41sethemoon @mamalikes-gvf @gretavanflowerpowerrr @joshskittytickler21 @jakekiszkasbabymama @fallonfatality @maddie-van-fleet @sarakay-gvf @josiee-gvf @milkgemini @sammiejane22 @gretavanbear @capturethechaos @welllauragvf @averagemisfit03 @myownparadise96 @givemeyourtots2 @gretavangroove @autopsy-im-ill @objectsinspvce @myownparadise96 @feilores @josh-iamyour-mama @givemeyourtots2 @joshkiszkasbigtoe @lightmylove-gvf @mydarlingdanny @shutupdevvie @twinszka @busybeingtrash @carlybubs @demonrat444 @high-fidelity1
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starryjkoo · 3 months
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This might be a controversial opinion but some of y’all need to learn to pick your battles and stop chasing the validation of PJMs and JJKs. Who cares if JJKs are hyping some fictional friendship and writing fanfictions because Jungkook stood next to some random dude twice? Who cares if solo fanbases crop out and don’t post the whole picture (that no one should be reposting btw)? Who cares if PJMs and JJKs don’t acknowledge their friendship? As long as they aren’t dragging Jimin or JK, or even overtly saying anything negative about their bond, literally why do some of you guys care what solos of all people think?
It’s odd to me that some jkkrs will go into solo spaces and then try to get them to acknowledge a member you know they hate and regularly drag. What are you expecting to happen? JJKs actually not mentioning or paying attention to JM is literally the best case scenario. I absolutely wish they would never look at him or talk about him or post anything about him ever again. I literally don’t care if they think JK loves random solider #2 or Mingyu or an inanimate object more than he loves JM and neither should you. They are NEVER going to acknowledge Jikook’s friendship, so stop expecting them to. That is literally one of the least offensive things I’ve seen them do this week alone and it doesn’t actually hurt Jimin or JK, it’s just annoying.
100% make fun of them in your own spaces for being so lame and immature about Jikook enlisting together, they ARE super weird for hyping up this random friendship they suddenly invented (and yes I know they were likely doing it on purpose), it IS really frustrating and sad how dismissive so many people are about Jikook -- but I still don’t understand what some jkkrs were expecting. I sincerely hope that whenever the Jikook travel show drops they keep cropping them out and pretending they’re besties with random bartenders and camera men because the alternative is them dragging JM and JK and their entire bond nonstop. Solos are NEVER going to acknowledge their friendship and I wonder why some jkkrs seem to want them to so bad? You are CHOOSING to go into their spaces and be annoyed that these people who call JM slurs and animal names on the regular don’t want to acknowledge his friendship with JK - and some of you are literally antagonizing these people you KNOW have no morals over something like this.
This whole issue snowballed because so many people are bored and miserable right now and tkkrs especially are looking for a fight ever since Jikook enlisted together (or honestly probably since Tokyo). I see how jkkrs can make an innocent post and get jumped and tkkrs can say the most heinous shit about JM and jkk imaginable and get away with it -- but if you’re active online you should know how it is and learn to pick your battles if you actually care about the people you stan. There was no reason for JM or JK to get dragged over something like this.
Anyways this isn’t the end of the world or anything, but I did watch this whole unnecessary drama unfold and opened my twitter account this morning to see report accounts STILL trying to clean it up, so I wanted to rant a bit. I’m sure the Jikook show will unleash the most heinous discourse imaginable so I’m saving my energy for that. Obviously people can do whatever they want, and I’m not saying jkkrs shouldn’t rant or be upset about it in their own spaces, I was just surprised by some of the reactions. Jikook enlisting together makes it obvious to anyone with a brain how close they are, that’s why the people who hate them are being especially weird and petty and obnoxious. JJKs were writing about how JK tattooed ARMY on his knuckles because he knows ARMYs hurt him or whatever just the other day so idk why some jkkrs were expecting them to suddenly celebrate his friendship with JM who they literally hate more than anyone else.
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obsessivevoidkitten · 2 years
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Do you think you could do a half-rabbit female reader x half-rabbit male yandere scenario?The reader unfortunately got lost in a forest and tries to get home, in the middle she crosses paths with a male, who could never find someone of his kind to breed with, and you were here to solve his problem. Thanks!!!
Male Yandere Rabbit Hybrid x GN Rabbit Hybrid Reader (CW: Kidnapping, rabbit monster man, implied non-con, implied breeding, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 500 I made this gender neutral instead of female reader, I hope that is okay. Sorry this took so long, idk why it was so hard for me to do and I hope you like it! -Reuben had completely and utterly lost hope that he would ever find a compatible mate to breed with, he thought that he was the last member of his entire species.
-The rabbit man was foraging for food in the forest when suddenly he caught a very attractive scent.
-He started following the smell almost on autopilot, his body knowing what it was way before his brain caught up, his heart beat increasing as he picked up his pace.
-He finally got close to the source of the scent, he peered at you from the shadows, you seemed a bit panicked, probably even lost. Perfect.
-All he had to do was swoop in and help and you'd fall for him!
-Suddenly all his old dead hopes spring to life, a lovely breedable mate he could dote on and protect after filling them up full of his babies!!!
-Reuben walked out of the woods and introduced himself, “Hey, I’m Reuben, you seem a bit lost. Can I help you?”
-You were speechless for a moment, here before you was another rabbit hybrid! Pale skin with lavender fur covering his legs and arms and unmistakable floppy rabbit ears!
-He was walking around you in circles, a dominant courtship behavior, but you did not know that, you weren’t raised with others of your kind. Instead of the submissive action he thought he would inspire in you, instead you had no reaction at all.
-Finally you found your voice, “Oh, um, I’m (Y/N), um, yeah, I’m new to this area and could use a little help getting home. I live along the river!”
-Reuben asks if you’d like to hang out sometime, he could help you get used to the forest, show you all the best landmarks, places to forage, places to avoid.
-You decline saying you don’t want to be a burden, you were ever oblivious to Reuben’s attempts at courting you.
-The male rabbit struggled to remain calm, this was the second time you rejected his advances so flippantly.
-All his renewed dreams were having a second painful death. How could you reject him like this? Wasn’t he a kind and healthy mate? And you would not even get to know him? No, he would show you! He was the best and only mate for you; he just had to make you see it.
-Reuben knew exactly what he had to do.
-He led you through the large forest, you suspected nothing, he held your hand gently as you wove through the trees.
-”Here we are (Y/N), home sweet home!” His grip on your wrist got tighter as he dragged you into his burrow.
-”Wh...what? This isn’t my home!” Fear and confusion evident in your voice.
-Your abductor pushed you onto the bed and pinned you down, shushing you by slamming his lips into yours, his hard cock rubbing against your thighs, evidence of his intent.
-He wasn’t lying to you earlier, he did help you get home. Because you would definitely never leave here.
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grippingbeskar · 1 year
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Hi can I get a soft fic or some soft headcanons for what it’s like to sleep next to Obi Wan? Maybe how warm he is, how active he sleeps, if he cuddles and so on? 🥺
this is one of the cutest asks i have ever gotten. i hope this is okay, i tried to include everything but i didn’t wanna do just lil points bc obi-wan is filling my brain rn. thx for the ask!!!! xx
also idk why i think this, i just BELIEVE that obi wan wears really comfy clothes to sleep bc he’s always wearing his robes so he just wants to b comfortable sknddnnx okay bye.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Seven knocks in a pattern only Obi-Wan would recognise ring out as you try to keep as quiet as possible waiting in the hallway. The guards should be on a skeleton crew right now, meaning you had about thirty seconds to get inside before being seen.
As soon as you finished the familiar pattern, though, he swings the door open and all your senses are filled with him. Two warm arms wrap around you, tight and secure, and even though the lights are off you can tell exactly what he’s wearing— soft sweaters were practically his wardrobe when he was off duty.
Wordlessly, he pulls you forward toward the bed. It must be past 1 in the morning, because you finish your shift on watch around 12:30. These long night shifts seem to drag on longer now that you have someone waiting for you at the end of it. His arms stay wrapped around you, warming you up from a night out in the cold as he guides you down, body pressing against you from behind as he wraps you in the covers.
“How was work?” He mumbles against the back of your neck, kissing you softly on your shoulder.
“Cold. Long. Glad it’s over.” You feel him smile, and his arms wrap further around you. He was always like this when you slept together— keeping you as close as possible like you’d slip away during the night.
“Glad you’re here.” You can feel his breathing start to slow, obvious that you woke him with your loud entrance.
His arms get more relaxed around you, and one runs soothing lines up and down your side slowly as he starts to drift to sleep. You hardly need the comforter he’d wrapped around you— with him pressed behind you so close he was giving you enough body heat that you hardly remembered how cold it was outside.
You let your eyes close, knowing you’d be in the exact same position when you woke up. Obi-Wan was nothing if not dependable, and even in sleep he manages to be exactly where you need him. If you were tossing and turning he would move with you, letting you make yourself comfortable on top of him, or intertwined with him. Whenever you ended up he was there, so close you could bury your face into his neck or the soft fabric of those jumpers he always wore to sleep.
“Goodnight, my love.” He whispered before his arm grew heavy on your hip, the weight a comforting anchor. Even when you followed him into sleep, you could of sworn you were still smiling.
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berryjoong · 1 year
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✩ devil by the window - hwang hyunjin - part two ✩
part one
pairing: demon!hyunjin x angel!afab reader
summary: the words hyunjin left you with keep ringing in your ears, there’s only one way to ensure your fate.
song: devil by the window ~ tomorrow x together
word count: 6.4k (oops)
tags: @midsoulz @sanxoxodra
warning: smut under the cut, minors do not interact!! oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), angel x demon dynamics, unprotected sex (pls don’t do this), creampie, egregious of use of the pet name angel, ummmm idk what else to put this is kinda terrible lmao
small a/n: lol part two is finally here!! sorry that took forever i really tried to keep the same dynamics but also slowly change them over time into smth more romantic. this is so long and still under editing but i wanted to finally get it posted! i hope you all enjoy and drop a request if you’d like!
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
“you were my mission all along, angel.”
“anytime you wanna give up and come home with me, you’re welcome.”
hyunjin’s words rang in your ears long after he said them. no matter what you did, you couldn’t escape the words running circles in your head. it felt like they followed you wherever you went, haunting the corners of your mind.
it had been a few days since he’d let his true agenda slip, along with an offer for you to “come home” with him. you’d never admit it, but you’d been thinking about it more than you’d ever expected.
you knew what it meant, leaving your own home up in heaven and fully rejecting everything you’d ever known. you couldn’t figure out why you were even thinking of leaving, it wasn’t that you were doing it for love, you didn’t even like hyunjin. and yet, there was something in the deep recesses of your brain that kept telling you to go for it, to just let go and give into what the pesky demon wanted.
all you could chalk it up to was just that you thought it a better fate to leave on your own than be sentenced down to hell if ever anyone discovered what you two did in the shadows.
but then there was the other side of your mind, the more rational side that knew you were crazy. if hyunjin was this insufferable now, what would he be like if you did give in and let him have his way? he’d hold it over your head forever. he’d be able to take the credit for dragging you down and the last thing you wanted to see was his smug smile staring back at you for the rest of eternity.
you knew the smart move was just to wait until your human passed, take their soul back to heaven and just forget everything you’d ever done with the thorn in your side demon.
it was exactly what you planned to do. it was what you had to do and you knew that, too. your human was getting old by this point, you only had to hold out a few years more, no problem.
no problem… right?
right.
hyunjin, on the other hand, was acting like he’d already dragged you down to hell and completed his mission. he sauntered around more than normal, smug little smile plastered on his face as he continued tormenting you as always.
“something on your mind, little angel?” he asked, an eyebrow quirked as he looked at you.
you snapped out of the daze you were in and glared over at him. “whatever i’m thinking is none of your business, demon. if i say another word, you’re liable to just drag me with you.”
hyunjin shrugged nonchalantly as he walked closer to you. “i can’t take you unless you choose to go.”
“and why would i choose to go with you, hmm? i’d never spend an eternity with you if i had a choice.” you held his gaze as he halted his steps in front of you.
“but that’s just it, isn’t it? one little word to your higher ups and your choice goes poof! you know that as well as i.” there was that stupid smile again, as if he knew he had you in his little trap before you’d even said anything.
you shook your head, slowly taking a step back from him. you wouldn’t give him what he wanted, you couldn’t. “i’ll never give into you,” you shot back at him, your eyes burning into his.
hyunjin stepped forward, easily closing the distance between you, small smile growing into something utterly devilish. “we’ll see about that, angel.”
and that was how it continued.
•••
you didn’t know why you’d done it. maybe his words really had scared you that much. either way, there was no going back now. it wasn’t like you had much of a choice anyway, you’d never been good at just denying him and leaving.
your human had finally died. and barely, just barely it seemed, you scraped the soul away from hyunjin and brought it safely up to heaven. in the back of your mind you knew he let you take it, he had his sights set on a mission far above a simple human soul.
and now, here you were, readying yourself to leave heaven, leave your home.
truthfully, you had no obvious reason for leaving, but something inside your brain nagged at you, reminding you of the mischievous gleam in hyunjin’s eyes the last time you saw him. he was up to no good, he never was, and you didn’t want to stay to find out what he’d do with the heavy blackmail he had against you. you hadn’t gone with him and you knew that was a blow to his more than massive ego.
he’d stop at nothing to make sure his mission was completed and so, before he could get you damned for all eternity, you would do it yourself. leaving heaven and turning to the other side was the most damning offense one could commit.
you didn’t feel like you had another choice, it was only a matter of time before your demon counterpart enacted revenge for his failed mission. you’d be damning yourself but anything was better than seeing the smug demon get his way and condemn you himself.
you stopped at the edge of the heavenly threshold, white light still surrounding you, and looked down, down, all the way to the very pits of hell below you. you turned to look back at the gates of your beautiful home once more and felt a single tear roll down your cheek.
taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, and jumped.
•••
“angel? angel, what the fuck are you doing?”
the hushed, hurried words were the first thing you heard as your consciousness started coming back to you. the second thing you noticed was the strong arms that kept you held securely.
that voice though, you’d know it anywhere. it was public nemesis number one and the sole cause of you being here, hyunjin. as soon as you recognized that voice, you tried squirming away, rolling out of the arms that had a hold on you.
“oh no, angel, i have you here, i’m not letting you go now,” the voice said, a sharp chuckle following. you opened your eyes, slowly blinking as the demon’s face focused above you. he seemed focused, perfect eyebrows knitted together as he held you in his arms. you vaguely registered the feeling of walking, a door being shoved open and being set down on a soft surface. a bed?
“wh-what are you doing?” your words were soft and unsure as you kept your eyes trained on the demon that had taken you in. he was walking around the room you were in casually, pulling a blanket out of the small dresser in the corner. hyunjin came back to where you were laid on the bed and spread the blanket across your form.
“i’m just making sure you didn’t get scooped up by any other… lowlifes that stay around here. they’re not all as nice as i am, you know.” he raised an eyebrow, directing a pointed stare your way. “the real question is, what are you doing down here? that was quite a trip and fall you had.”
at his remark you scoffed and looked away from him. “i didn’t fall, i jumped.”
that seemed to pique his interest more, both eyebrows now raised in surprise. “oh, really? and why would you want to do that, hmm?”
“because i didn’t- i don’t trust you,” you sneered back at him. “you didn’t complete your little mission, there’s no way you expect me to believe that you’d play fairly after that. i just figured damning myself was better than you doing it for me.”
hyunjin shrugged, as if contemplating your words. “true, i thought about it, but i figured you’d finish my work for me. and here you are, so it would seem i was right.”
“i did it on my own,” you shot back hotly, “i’m not here because you lured me down here with your smooth words and pretty face.”
“so you think i’m pretty now, do you?” the smug smirk that painted his face had you regretting your words instantly.
you gave him a once over and scoffed once more, rolling your eyes and looking away from him. “you’re a demon, it’s your literal purpose to be pretty and tempt people to follow you down to their infinite demise here.”
“oh, you mean just like you did? it’s okay, angel, it’s not always easy to admit defeat like this.” hyunjin’s sarcastically sympathetic tone mocked you as the smirk on his lips grew ever wider.
you started clambering up from the bed you were in, ready to ring the infuriating demon’s neck. “you little-”
“you’re stuck here now, unless i can find a way to get you sent back. you’d better pray to whomever you have up there that they’ll take you again. if not, i’ll make sure we have lots of fun down here together, angel.” he sent a cheeky wink your way before turning to leave the room, perfect hips swaying slightly as he walked.
“feel free to just make yourself at home, little angel, it’s going to be a long night,” he called over his shoulder as the door swung shut behind him.
taking a breath, you fell back on the bed behind you. you’d collect your thoughts and figure out what to do next. one thing was certain, you couldn’t and wouldn’t stay here any longer than completely necessary.
you were dumbfounded at the thought of the miserable demon actually trying to help you and knew not to trust any seeming kindness that came from him. he was incapable of true kindness and love, a care for others; everything he did came with an angle that was set only to benefit himself. you could only trust yourself in this situation, knowing full well that as soon as hyunjin tired of playing with you and your fate, he’d cast you aside like yesterday’s souls.
•••
you weren’t sure how long you’d been in hell.
it was called hell for a reason, a special place of torture for souls that didn’t get taken to heaven. it wasn’t as people on earth thought, there were no pits of fire and brimstone. instead, the souls were brought to places where their most atrocious sins were committed and made to live those sins unending, forcing them into insanity for all eternity. the demons each had their own roles in tormenting the humans’ souls, whether it be carrying out the torture or luring the souls down to their punishment.
in the time you’d been in hell, you learned more about the place than you’d ever wanted to. as an angel, you’d never made it a point to learn what’s exactly went on deep into enemy territory, but now you were stuck with no option but to learn.
it had been your choice to come here, yes, but you couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if you had stayed in heaven. maybe hyunjin never would’ve come for his revenge, maybe you would’ve been damned either way. but you’d made your decision, you’d never know the answers to the what if’s that plagued you at night.
speaking of the pesky demon, he’d been surprisingly… civil over the time you’d been trapped in that spare room. he’d bring you food, even though you didn’t really need it. you figured it was just so he could come and gloat, enjoying the sight of seeing you stuck with him until further notice. he’d said he was working on a way to get you sent back to heaven, although you doubted any truthfulness in his words as you changed more by the hour to look increasingly like the creatures that inhabited these depths of the universe.
hyunjin had also mentioned that it wasn’t safe for you to leave until either he got you back into heaven or until your body finished changing and adapting to the new climate.
“i don’t particularly care, but i figure if it’s truly my fault you came down here, i should give you a chance before throwing you to the wolves,” he’d said, a gleam making its way into his eyes. “plus, i enjoy being the only one who gets to ruin you like that.”
you hated how you were unable to help the flush that covered your face at his words. “like i’d ever let you defile me like that again after what you’ve done,” you spat back at him.
at your words he just snickered to himself and shook his head. “we’ll see about that, angel.”
despite his taunting words, he continued being civil with you, unnerving you with how well-behaved he acted in your presence. it felt like he was trying to lull you into a false sense of security before ripping the ground out from under you. he’d come into your room and explain more things about the goings on in this hellish realm and watch in interest as the once pure white wings you could summon turned to dusty grey before fading completely to black.
you had figured out after some time that you weren’t going to be able to go home, back to heaven, and you supposed hell was now “home.” there was no way they’d take you again with how you’d changed during your time in hell. you decided that as stupid of a move as it might have been to leave that ultimately it was for the best, a choice you wouldn’t try and fight with yourself over anymore. what’s done was done.
“i don’t know if you’ve even tried getting me out of here, but i’d like you to stop,” you told hyunjin the next time he came into the room he’d loaned you. “given” was too nice of a word for a being like him, a being like yourself, now, too. “it was my decision to come here and i don’t want to be sent back.”
the demon’s eyebrows raised as he stared at you in surprise. “oh really, why the sudden change of heart? i’ve finally won you over into deciding that hell is the place for you?”
you rolled your eyes, gaze incredulous as you shook your head at him. “in your delusional dreams, demon. what, do you really want me that badly?”
to that, he shrugged, his face impassive. “i’ve never made any secret of it, have i?”
you just blinked at him, unsure what to make of his words. you knew you shouldn’t dwell on it, it was only another trick designed to make you stumble and believe demons could feel or be anything other that the heartless, cruel tricksters they were at their cores.
“this is just another one of your lies, isn’t it? you got me down here, you got what you want, can’t you stop torturing me?” you looked at him now, shaking your head again in disbelief.
the demon in front of you scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “why would it be a lie?”
“because all you do is lie!” you spat at him. “all demons do is lie and ruin things and destroy what’s good, just look at what you did to me!”
at that, you could see hyunjin visibly recoil, something akin to hurt making its way onto his face. it was just a flash before it faded, the demon’s face setting itself back to the impassive shield it had been before. he rolled his eyes at you, as if he was dealing with nothing more than a petulant child.
“that’s what you really what you believe then? fine by me.” hyunjin turned on his heel and strode toward the door. but not without first calling back over his shoulder, “but don’t blame your predicament down here on me. you were the one that jumped, remember?”
the door slammed behind him, shutting you in once again. you had about had enough of the stupid demon’s games. taking you in, being nice to you, not trying to get in your pants the whole time, and now telling you he had wanted you the whole time. you knew he had some angle, but you just couldn’t figure out what it was.
you had to believe that you were ultimately just a plaything for the crafty being, the connotations of his words as anything else were too much for you to think about. demons didn’t have hearts, they couldn’t feel, despite their previous existence as angels. you knew that and you had to keep remembering it, as the way he’d been treating you since your fall was almost enough to make you think otherwise.
you couldn’t, you wouldn’t open yourself up to the possibility of hyunjin’s antics being anything else other than a game designed to completely break you and make you just like him.
and yet, just yet, you couldn’t deny the tiny nagging inside of you that nearly wished his words were true. he was beautiful, you wouldn’t argue that, and you had to hand it to him that he had done a good job of making it seem like he really didn’t mind you around. that was what demons were best at, being sweet and inviting and lying through their teeth to get their prey to fall right into their traps.
you couldn’t fathom what more he’d want from you, why he was still playing with you after all this time, but you were determined to find out why, once and for all, the next time you saw him.
•••
it appeared to you some time later that if you wanted answers, you would have to be the one to get them yourself. you had apparently upset hyunjin as he hadn’t come into your room for the past couple days and you were starting to get bored waiting for him. so, you plucked up the remnants of your courage and shoved yourself off the bed you’d been sitting on, making your way to the door keeping you in.
you pushed the door open, pleasantly surprised at the fact that it wasn’t locked this whole time. you found yourself in a hallway, looking to your right found a dead end, but to your left seemed to be another room. you wandered down toward the short hallway to the other room, finding yourself in a more spacious living room. it wasn’t big, but it was a modest size for a demon of hyunjin’s repute.
there weren’t any windows, but instead paintings of the world above scattered the walls of the room. off to one side of the room sat a chair with what looked like an easel, paints in a perfectly organized line, and a half finished painting of a flower vase sitting atop the easel. you had thought him one to appreciate art, much less create it; but once more, the idea of the demon you’d built up in your head was shaken. it made him seem less like the dark creature he was and almost more like the being of light he had been before.
you looked to the other side of the room and saw a small couch, with a figure crumpled up under a blanket. it was hyunjin, no doubt, but… why was he out here? this was his place, surely if he wanted to sleep he could-… and suddenly, it dawned on you. he did have a room to sleep in, but he had given that up when he took you in.
now, you were thoroughly confused. had he really been telling you the truth in saying he wanted you down here, with him?
“if you want to stare at me that much, you could’ve just asked, angel,” the figure under the blanket said, his voice gravelly from sleep. hyunjin peeked his face out from where it had been smushed against his arm and the blanket.
“i- i thought demons didn’t need to sleep,” you said back, purposefully ignoring his earlier comment.
hyunjin blinked a couple times before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “we don’t, but who am i to deny myself the comfort of a good nap sometimes?”
you couldn’t help the next words that you blurted out. “you gave up your room and bed for me. why?”
“i told you, you were my mission, angel.” his pretty face turned blank as he spoke and lifted himself up onto his elbows to look at you better. “not that you’d believe anything i say, you’ve made that very clear. but it’s the truth, you fascinate me and i wanted you here with me. i was given permission by my superiors to drag you down if you didn’t want to come after our mission was over. but ultimately, i wanted the choice to be yours, what use would it be to have you down here against your will and hating me for the rest of eternity?”
hyunjin slowly removed the blanket that covered him and stood up, beginning to pace the floor in front of the couch. his expression stayed perfectly blank, seeming intent on not giving away any of his true feelings behind the matter.
“true, you may still hate me for the rest of eternity,” he continued, clasping his hands behind his back, “but at least i know that for once my hands are clean in the matter of bringing you here. you came of your own volition and while i may have… helped persuade you, the decision was still yours in the end.”
you stood in your spot, quietly listening as he paced while unraveling his whole plan with you. “but… why not say anything? what do you actually want with me that you’d go through all that to maybe end up with me here?“
hyunjin stopped pacing for a moment and shot you a pointed stare, one eyebrow raised. “although i do have demons down here to consort with if i wish, i have always enjoyed a challenge. and you, angel, were the perfect challenge for me.”
the demon resumed his leisurely strides across the floor, shrugging his shoulders as he continued his explanation. “sometimes risks are worth taking, clearly you know that as well as i since you’re here. and i found you a worthy challenge and risk to take. the way i saw it, either i end up with someone to share with in my mischief or i don’t, and i have a few laughs and good fucks along the way. the choice is still yours, angel.”
the entire time you’d been listening to him, you were mulling over the choices presented to you. obviously, hell was your home now and you were never getting back into heaven; all the thoughts you’d been thinking of hyunjin and demons as a whole now applied to you.
on one hand, you could just leave him and hope to the powers that be that you wouldn’t run into him again in your long eternity down here. or, the decision that was starting to look better by the moment; you could stay, he’d made it apparent that he wanted you to, for whatever reason. being transformed into a demon now as you were meant you wouldn’t have to follow the angelic code you’d held to before, you were free to be and do what you want.
you could stay, you would stay here and you’d have fun with him right back. if he could torment you and make you doubt everything you’d known for years during your mission on earth, it was only fair that you do the same back to him, right?
“fine, you want me so bad? i’ll stay. but i’m on your level now, hyunjin, so don’t expect me to play nice.” you crossed your arms over your chest, staring him down from your spot halfway across the room.
the fiery gleam in his eyes that you’d grown to… appreciate was back the moment the words left your mouth. in less than half a second, he’d crossed the space between you, wrapping you up in his arms.
“how far you’ve fallen, my little angel,” his voice dropped an octave, his hold tightening around you, effectively trapping you against him. his face was right above yours, if either of you moved even an inch, your lips would be on his.
“i already told you, i didn’t fall, i jumped,” you whispered, ever defiant.
hyunjin’s gaze turned downright hungry as he gazed at you, lips curling over his teeth into a perfectly devilish smile. “that’s what i like to hear.”
he leaned down, closing the minute distance between you and pushed your lips together in a searing kiss.
you kissed him back fervently, your eyes falling shut as you pressed closer against his body. you brought your arms up to encircle the back of his neck, giving into the need for him you’ve been trying to bury since the very first time this tussle together happened. there was nothing stopping you from holding back now and as hyunjin had pointed out earlier, who were you to deny yourself what you wanted?
“fuck,” he breathed against your lips, “i missed this, angel.”
you chuckled, pulling back to attach your lips to his jaw, steadily working your way down his neck. “don’t tell me you didn’t have your pick of any other being you wanted.”
hyunjin let his head loll back, giving you more access to suck pretty little marks on his skin. “i never said i didn’t, but none of them were you.”
you huffed out a breath at his words, leaving a particularly harsh nip at his neck, reveling in the short hiss that left the demon’s mouth. “you’re stuck with me now, hope you made the right decision.”
“i know i did.” hyunjin threaded his fingers through the hair at the back of your head and brought your face up to his, slotting your lips together once again. he pulled away just enough for you to see the ever-present smirk on his face. “and now i’m gonna show you just how perfect of a decision it was.”
he easily scooped you up in his strong arms, you immediately wrapping arms and legs around him in response. you set back to work on creating a myriad of hickeys on his neck as he takes you back to his room, the colors blooming beautifully with each kiss and bite you leave on his perfect skin.
as soon as you’re back in hyunjin’s room, he tossed you down on the bed and stood over you for a moment, looking ready to ravish you completely. unsure how long it had been since both of you last fucked, you were ready to do whatever he wanted as long as it ended with him inside you, pounding you into the mattress.
your legs fell open, inviting him to do as he pleased. a smile made its way to the demon’s face as he took in your splayed out form before him.
“my perfect little angel,” he breathed out, leaning over you and caging you in with his arms, “i’m going to absolutely ruin you.”
you just wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him down to kiss you again. hyunjin kissed you back like it was the last time he’d be able to, pressing his lithe body against yours. you felt his teeth nipping at your bottom lip and you couldn’t help the soft squeak you let out into the kiss. he took the opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own.
you moaned into his mouth, pushing your body into his as your hands ran across his shoulders and down his arms. in return, the demon above you ground his hips on yours, pulling away from your lips moments later in favor of mouthing down your neck. he sucked and nibbled his way across your neck and to your collarbone, skin blooming with new marks of your own.
“no one else gets to mark up my pretty angel like this but me, right?” his words were hot on your skin and you could feel his smirk when you nodded quickly.
“only- only you,” your voice came out a stilted whimper as hyunjin nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck. “you’re stuck with me now, ‘m gonna stay around and annoy you all the time.”
hyunjin chuckled lowly, running his tongue over the latest mark he’d made. “that’s right, gonna make you just as wicked as i am, pretty one.”
you shivered slightly, feeling the demon’s fingers dance over your body, moving toward the hem of the shirt you wore. you arched your back as hyunjin made quick work of pulling your shirt over your head, discarding it and your undergarments beside you on the bed.
hyunjin looked down at you, his gaze nearly reverent as he took in the sight of your form in front of him. he slid his hands up your sides to knead at the flesh of your chest, eyes transfixed on how your tits moved, nipples pebbling up under his fingertips.
after a moment, he leaned down, capturing one nipping his mouth and swirling his tongue around the bud. your head rolled back at the feeling, letting out a loud moan at the sensation. your hands found their way to his hair and you tugged on the strands, making hyunjin groan into your skin.
“more, hyunjin, please,” you pleaded, lightly pulling on his hair again.
hyunjin looked at you, pulling his mouth off your tit with an obscene pop. “oh, you want more, do you? i’ll give you more, don’t worry, just wanna get a taste of you first, angel.”
he made short work of removing his own shirt before your skirt and underwear, adding them to the steadily growing pile of clothes next to you. the demon kissed down your body, leaving tiny bite marks as he went, moving closer to where you needed him most. he spread your legs open, holding them still as he mouthed along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.
you keened as he finally attached his lips to your core, tongue eagerly flicking over your clit. your hands immediately drifted back to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you tried to pull him closer to you.
“be patient, angel,” came the soft murmur against you, “i’ll give you what you want soon enough.”
you whined softly but it quickly turned into a high pitched moan as you suddenly felt two fingers push into you along with his tongue that stayed playing with your clit. he smirked at your reaction, sucking lightly at the bud to see what that would get him. another loud moan tore itself from your lips and you tried to close your legs on his head, one of hyunjin’s strong hands preventing you from doing so.
“remember, be patient for me, my angel. good things come to those who wait,” you felt his words more than heard them, his mouth barely leaving you as he spoke. you simply nodded, unable to help yourself from pulling lightly at his hair again.
hyunjin kept lapping at you, his fingers languidly making their way in and out of you, curling this way and that, already bringing you close to your release. he’d let out soft groans every time you tugged on his hair, the vibrations from his voice adding to the pleasure you felt. you neared closer to your climax, your walls starting to pulse as hyunjin worked you with his fingers and tongue.
just when you were about to reach your high, everything was suddenly gone, leaving you wanting. you couldn’t help the pitiful whine that left your lips as you glared at the smirking demon.
“you truly are evil, you know that?” your eyes narrowed at him, displeasure evident on your face.
hyunjin just chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly. “so you’ve said a time or two hundred. and yet, you’re still here, so you obviously enjoy how evil i am.”
you glared at him harder, trying to swat at where he stood between your legs with your foot, narrowly missing his hip when he jumped out of the way. he shook his head at you, tutting softly.
“my naughty angel,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “and here i thought you wanted to be good.”
you rolled your eyes petulantly before fixing him with a challenging stare. “what can i say? i guess you’ve just rubbed off on me.”
at that, the demon let a devilish little smile creep onto his face once more. “and how glad i am for that. now be good for me and maybe i’ll let you cum tonight.”
hyunjin shrugged his pants and underwear off, cock slapping up against his lower stomach, just as pretty and proud as the demon it belonged to. you’d be lying if you said it had no effect on you, your mouth watered and you vowed to yourself to absolutely devour it the next time the opportunity presented itself.
“like something you see?” you heard the smug tone dripping from the demon’s words. you could see the fire igniting in his eyes as he stepped between your legs again, unhurriedly tugging at his length. he lifted one knee on top of the bed, angling his hips toward yours and ensuring that with every tug the head of his cock would tap against your dripping entrance.
“please- please just fuck me already, hyunjin,” your plea came out as mostly a frustrated whimper.
that only stroked his ego more but even so, he crawled on top of you once again. “since you asked so nicely, who am i to deny my favorite angel?“
hyunjin rubbed his cock between your folds for another moment before lining up with you and pushing in slowly. your head rolled back when he finally bottomed out, mouth falling open as you moaned out loud.
“you feel so good, always so tight for me, angel,” he said, his voice mostly a moan at the feeling of your warmth around him. the demon above you held onto your hips, keeping you still as he started thrusting in and out of you at a leisurely pace.
your hands grasped at him, finding purchase on his shoulders as your nails dug into his skin. hyunjin tugged you closer, starting to pick up his pace and pulling your hips to meet his powerful thrusts. he let out a low groan at the slight sting of your fingernails scraping against his shoulders, leaving trails down his toned arms.
hyunjin let go of your hips a moment later to lean over you again, propping himself up on his forearms. burying his face in your neck, he left more tiny pecks and nips on the junction between your neck and shoulder, causing you to moan louder than you had before.
your senses were overwhelmed at the feeling of hyunjin everywhere, all over you, the steady drag of his cock against your walls. as he picked up the pace of his hips, you were slowly reduced to nothing but high pitched moans and whimpers, your body pliant under his hold.
“h-hyunjin, please…” you moaned out, holding onto his shoulders tighter and bucking your hips up slightly to meet his.
“please, what, angel?” he asked, his voice taunting. he continued fucking into you, each thrust deep and more intense than the last. he smiled a little at your fucked out form, how you struggled to form the words to answer him back as your high drew closer.
“want- i need to cum, pl-please!” you cried, your back arching up as hyunjin kept pushing you toward your orgasm.
“come on then, cum for me, my pretty angel,” hyunjin whispered into your ear, his hips rocking against yours. his hand snaked down to rub circles on your clit, giving you the last nudge over the edge over the edge of the cliff that had you plunging into your climax.
with a high whine, your release washed over you and you bucked your hips into hyunjin’s, walls spasming around his cock. your release spurred his, cock pulsing inside you as he filled you up to the brim.
he let out a loud groan, rocking his hips into yours as he rode out both your highs. he stilled after a second, slowly pulling out of you and wincing a little at the slight overstimulation.
hyunjin lightly ran a hand down one of your thighs before turning to around to the dresser across the room and taking out a small towel. the demon brushed his dark hair away from his face and made his way back to you, gently cleaning you up and taking care to wipe down your sensitive thighs.
leaning down, he kissed you once again, pushing your lips together in a short kiss. he pulled away a second later, slumping against you lightly as he tucks his head in your neck.
“i missed this. i- i missed you,” he said, his voice soft. hyunjin wrapped his arms around you, gently pulling you closer to him. you curled into his hold in return, no longer trying to ignore the warm feeling that bubbled up in your chest at his words.
“not that i ever planned on admitting it, but i might’ve missed you too, just a little,” you answered him, placing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“i’m glad you decided to stay, my little angel.” he tightened his arms around you, one hand lightly rubbing up and down your back.
“what can i say? your unending snark and wonderful attitude every morning won me over.” you let yourself giggle softly as the demon shook his head.
“and now you get to deal with me… forever,” hyunjin murmured in your ear, his tone menacing but lighthearted.
“i chose my fate, i’m okay staying here and taking over the realms with you; this is what i want,” you said back, a fond smile taking over your face and matching the one spreading across hyunjin’s lips. “you’re what i want.”
“and you’re just what i want, my angel.”
269 notes · View notes
sluttyhollow · 1 year
Note
Kindly requesting a pt. 2 to your not my n*gga fic☝️🤧😮‍💨
I was thinking like… what’s the dude version of Baby Tate’s Slut Him Out and then I remembered what it was
“Aye, and that shit’s so wet I took the rubber off can’t even use it”
Toji Fushiguro x Black!F Reader
Part 1
Warnings: smut, breeding/ovulation sex, baby mating press, rough sex, dom and sub dynamics (?) but not explicitly mentioned or described, baby trapping/pregnant reader (reader is ok with it but doesn’t explicitly say it), wormy being used as a bondage tool but you can’t see him (😭), spit as lube, no prep entry but reader is wet (no pain), pet names (baby; pretty) Toji being toxic, Toji abandons Megs with you for a few weeks (for a good reason), reader smacks Toji, fem bodied reader with no pronouns, reader gets picked up, Megumi being Megumi, fluffy ending!, let me know if I missed anything, reader implied black but no descriptors
I— idk it’s just a quickly written dirty nasty smut with no plot really 😭 pls I hope you enjoy
18+ no minors
To be fair, you should’ve known what the fuck he was on when he kept you holed up in his room that first night for hours. Not letting you stumble back into the four walls of your own apartment until the sun had already started peeking across the horizon line.
He’d kept his promise though, spent his “hard earned”, you still didn’t know what the fuck he did, money on taking you and keeping you satisfied. Then taking you back to his apartment and adding onto your satisfaction by stuffing you full of him. It was always him consuming you, because that’s how he was. Like a fire that instead of burning you the closer you got to it, slowly wrapped itself around you until it permeated every inch of you consuming you completely. But the tipping point was the knock on your door at 2 AM one Friday morning. Peeking through the peephole you saw his body taking up the space and opened your door to ask him what he wanted when you saw a small tuft of black hair move just outside of your peripheral vision drawing your attention to the small boy who stood in front of you.
“Who are you?” A small voice asked, bored little face looking between you and Toji, who now that you were staring at them both, was this kids father.
“Funny enough buddy, I was going to ask you the same thing” you smiled at him, before glaring at his dad and moving to let the two inside your apartment before the neighbors got nosey. Fixing the television so Megumi, who so generously introduced himself when his dad didn’t, would be distracted long enough for you to cuss his father out.
“What the fuck Toji, why are you here and why the fuck did you bring your son here at 2 AM” trying not to raise your voice in and effort to not disturb Megumi. Toji still hadn’t explained himself and was staring down at you with a small smirk on his face.
“Is that any way for you greet your man sweetheart, it’s only been a few days since you’ve seen me, did I not fuck your attitude away good enough” pissed wasn’t enough to describe the way you were feeling. Not only had he dragged his young son awake and into the streets in the wee hours of the morning, he was playing in your fucking face like you were a joke.
“Get the fuck out my house and out my fucking face on this bullshit Toji, I have work in the morning” pushing him back and beginning to walk out your kitchen you were quickly stopped by the block of a man stepping in your path.
“Quit playin with me y/n if you loose the attitude I’ll talk to you, before then “imma play in your face” cause you acting like Gumi when he doesn’t get a nap” in your defense, your hand moved faster then even your own brain could comprehend. Sending Toji’s head off to the side with its impact, the sound reverberating around the small space and into the living room causing a unhidden mix of a chuckle and scoff to fall from the young boy in the other room.
Scared. Yep, you were scared and that’s all there was to it. He didn’t speak, didn’t even look at your face. Just picked you up taking you back into your room, while telling Megumi to flip off the light cause they were spending the night over here. Then he closed your door dropping you into the middle of your bed and standing at the door of it finally looking at you, assessing his next move. The pajamas, if you could call them that, a loose crop top with some shorts, had risen during your fall to the bed exposing your unbound breast to him. Emphasized by the deep breaths and rapid beating of your heart. You were too nervous to reach up and readjust it, opting to sit beneath the depths of his gaze as your body warmed all over to his silent attentions. Having Toji’s eyes on you, like this, with that intensity with in them was overwhelming. He was making you feel like you were on top of the world while simultaneously feeling like the smallest being alive. He stood there a few minutes before making a move toward you.
Grabbing your shirt from the front and pulling at it, he ripped it off your body before doing the same to the shorts you had on leaving you bare. You felt your body warm as he roved the expanse of your body before his eyes met yours again. Licking across his lips he pulled back, thick arms crossing over each other as he started talking
“You think you gone disrespect me in front of my son because you didn’t get your way immediately y/n. You know better than that”
“Tsk I didn’t even mea-“
“Lose the attitude, final warning baby” his hands finally dropped, grabbing the base of his shirt pulling it over his head. Chiseled chest and toned stomach being exposed to you piece by piece as he went. Dropping the garment to the floor before repeating the same action with his pants.
“Go to hell bro, I’m fucking tired of you fr Toji. You think fucking can fix everything, get the fuck out” before you could open your mouth to spit more aggressive words at him, your cheeks were being squeezed between two of his thick fingers “only if I can take you there with me pretty” and with that you felt a fat glob of spit fall into your hole then he was bottoming out in the tight wetness your cunt was providing him pulling the throatiest moans from the both of you. Grabbing each of your thighs with one of his hands he folded them back until yours knees touched the bed on either side of your ears, presenting your pussy in the perfect position for him to stuff it full of his cum.
Toji had enough of your attitude, he spoils you, takes care of you more than he had done for anybody, including Gumi’s mom but your smart ass mouth was always moving. Retracting his hips from their space settled against the swell of your ass he thrust back into you at full force. While the act would typically create a painful but delicious ache in the pit of your belly from the repeated assault your poor pussy was taking but, ovulation had you angling your hips just that much more perfectly to accommodate his rough thrust. As kept his momentum up, you began to drift into the land of being completely drunk on his cock. Seeing that you were distracted Toji reached out to grab your arms and pull them towards your head board. A seemingly slimy sensation moving across your body and up your arms shocked your senses but believing it was just his wet tongue you brushed it off. However, the feeling made its way around both of your wrist before seemingly locking itself in place, that had your eyes popping open to meet Tojis smiling face. Your eyes trying to look toward whatever bound your wrist together and failing.
“Just needed a little help keeping you still for me baby don’t worry” And his hips kept going, just a little rougher finally pulling your first orgasm from you. It was quick, unannounced and had you squirting across the base of his stomach. Making a quick exit from your warmth he gripped himself and rubbed his tip across your clit to prolong the messy action. Immediately ramming himself back into you after, pace as unrelenting as before. A ring forming around his base as your cum collected there. If he kept this place up your body would be giving into another orgasm faster then it did before. Not being able to take the rapidly increasing pleasure consuming your body you tried scooting your body away from him a whine falling from your throat when he kept you in place.
“Nuh uh pretty, we’re making a baby tonight, you gone take this fat dick however I decide to give it you, stay fucking quiet before you wake Gumi up, that’s what you want hmm, want your new son walking in on you being used like the little breeding bitch that you are, want him to see how his little sibling was made, cause I’m not going to stop even if the fucking brat wakes up” you hated how you clenched around his length at his words. Shame filling your body because you first and foremost forgot about the adorable little boy who was hopefully passed out on your couch by now and two his words sent you into your second orgasm. Taking every ounce of remaining willpower inside of his body he pulled out again gifting your pussy with four hard smacks, the moan you’d been holding in came out loudly, before once again spearing you on his legnth.
He was close, for all his bravado Toji was still just a pussy drunk man who wanted nothing more than to fill his pussy with cum. He couldn’t wait for his seed to take, so he could come back from his missions to you waiting on him, stomach hanging perfectly round with his baby. Yeah you couldn’t deny him then, you’d be stuck with him forever. You’d keep gumi safe, you’d keep his new baby safe and in return he’d do the same to you.
Quickening his pace he finally allowed himself to spill himself inside of you. Heavy hand finally dropping your legs back to the bed as your arms were released from whatever had kept them bound. Rolling you both onto your sides so he could stay buried within you, he wrapped you close to his chest.
“Gotta call from Gumi earlier saying he ran out of food cause his mom hadn’t been home, I tried looking for her but just went to pick him up, I need you to watch him while I go look for her, might take a few weeks”
“Okay” You didn’t have the energy to say much else and you believed what Toji was saying. You’d deal with the rest in the morning. For now you just wanted to sleep.
*1 month later*
You and Megumi were thick as thieves and if you asked him, he liked you more than he’d ever liked either one of his family. That had the boy quickly dubbing you as one of his parents. Which in his words “daddy said you’d be my new parent anyways since you’re bringing me a little sibling” to which you rolled your eyes because of course Toji said that, speaking of… a knock on your door pulled you both from the activity you’d been working on. Opening the door, there revealed Toji, noticing a few new scars gracing his body as he made his way into the room you and Megumi were in. Ruffling the boys head, earning a glare from him, he pulled you in for a quick kiss before opening his mouth to say
“Missed me baby? I missed you” signature crooked smile pulling on his lips as his hand dropped down to your stomach pressing flat against it “and how’s my baby” rolling your eyes you moved away from trying to hold back your smile and keep the nonchalant face about you. “Nobody missed you but Gumi. But, WE are doing fine” face cracking as your smile flittered across your face.
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lipglossanon · 7 months
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*chants* brain rot, brain rot, brain rot
dark stepdaddy leon and reader going halloween costume shopping after the Mom thing (maybe not but for plot we’ll say sure) they pick out respective costumes but then Leon sees a slutty red riding hood costume (a two piece perhaps?) and readers eyes light up just so excited to see the way Leon reacts to her in it and she convinces him to dress up as wolf, (can the wolf costume be a shitty wolf ear headband and RE4 remake Leon’s outfit?) i feel like he’s not ~super~ into the costume thing but is ~super~ into making you wet, ya know? so it’s halloween and he’s planned a little date, *aggressively whispers* corn maze 🤭, you get dressed up in the costume and thigh high fishnets with boots to match and he meets you in the living room and (like all of us) reader absolutely looses it over the harness and the gloves and tactical pants just all of it especially with the wolf ears because- he’s too old for this shit- but wants to make you happy and that outweighs everything,,,, so he’s ABSOLUTELY not restraining himself, no mom, no one who knows you’re his daughter or stepdaughter just Horny™️ all the time. to be safe he takes you to a little farm outside the city or town you live in and he buys you treats all that cutesy shit but i know we all want porn so-
he’s been feeling you up, cokwarming you on the hayride (because it’s dark and if i write it that no one noticed, then no one noticed 🤫) so you’re all hazy from arousal and just holding your stepdads hand following him like a lost puppy 🤭 when he sees the “free maze now until - idk pick a day” so he takes you over to the pumpkin patch next to the maze and stands behind you arms around your waist, dick ~not~ pressed into your lower back 😉 asking you if you wanted to play a little game, so you nod and he says “i’ll go in the maze after you and if you get out before i catch you we do it in the car, if i catch you i’m gonna take what’s mine” while he’s basically growling in your ear so you set off purposefully getting lost in a back corner of the maze and just sit and wait for him which he thinks is absolutely fucking adorable that you just want your stepdaddy’s dick so bad you’re just gonna wait in a public place for him rail you. he kicks your legs apart and you whisper “daddy” making him kneel between your legs and hold your chin asking you “what baby?” and all you can muster is a weak little “make it hurt”, and give him puppy dog eyes while touching the knife (everyone thought it was fake which is why no one thought to say anything because halloween, also plot and porn- mostly porn) his eyes light up when he realizes what you mean but he still asks “do you want me to cut you?” while dragging the knife across your jaw absolutely gnawing at the bars of what little self restraint he has when you nod and ask, “cut your name into my legs daddy so everybody knows i’m yours 🥺” and he just looses it. slams you face first into the dirt, hand on your lower back dragging the non sharp edge of blade against your slit through your panties making you wriggle but he just spanks you and tells you to behave and you do because the pleasure outweighs the pain of carving “daddy’s slut” on the back of your thighs (like a word per thigh) and he takes a picture to show you and you get all whiny because you wanted his name so you pull down the hem of your panties (or two piece costume and no panties? just spreading your pussy with a knife like he’s buttering toast?) and ask him to put in there right below your abdomen,,,,,, i need to be stopped this is too long already 🫣
- 💀
(okay fine, you’re all cut up he didn’t fuck you because you got ballsy and when he was done cutting you you bolted through the corn maze and he was right behind you, you got in trouble and he took you back to the car and drove into a little cemetery not far from the farm and he basically shoves you into the back of the car where the seats are already down so it’s like a little bed and he’s in between your legs and is holding a lighter to one of the rings he’s wearing and laughs while you scream from him branding your inner thigh, making you practically cum on the spot but instead you just have an orgasm but he can’t leave it at that so once he’s branded you in a few spots he’s shoving your fingers into your cunt making you while and hump your hand begging for it be him instead which he declines saying you’ve been ~so~ bad running from daddy and he just needs to teach you a lesson so he continues to fuck you with your own hand until you almost cum, pulling them out and sucking on them while holding your stare when feel rather than notice him pull the knife out and cut the top of your costume groping you and holding the knife to your throat while he humps you with his pants still on, making you stain his pants from how wet you are (my brain decided no panties with a two piece costume apparently lol) he finally gets his fill of groping and sucking on you before he’s bottoming out in your pussy, squelching noises filling the car while he coos “such a naughty little girl for daddy tonight, huh?” while you nod too overstimulated to know if it hurts anymore just wanting to make him feel good 🥵 i am stopping myself before this becomes a literal fic in your inbox lmao sorry it’s so much i just wanted to share <33333)
Never apologize 💀 anon! You can send a whole ass fic in my inbox 🤣
AGSJFL but I have no words 😩 this was so hot!! And Leon being ‘so here’s my costume🙄 is so on the money lmao. Ugh yes 👏 his RE4 outfit would have me on my knees in a heartbeat. Even better is he has the jacket cause it’s cold in the fall and at some point he takes it off and puts it over your shoulders 🤭
Aww no but I love that he’d buy cutesy stuff! 😌 and he totally would, especially since you’re practically wrapped around his bicep to lean on him while cooing about the stuff you like 🤭
And ugh yes having Leon chase you down just to rail your brains out 😵‍💫 😵‍💫
And the rest has me like 🫣 🫣
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xxun-punxx · 11 months
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HOW THE MERCS WOULD BE AS DRAG QUEENS
okay so i never fucking post but ever since i saw @alpacacare's post where they drew all the tf2 mercs as drag queens my worm infested brain has been going bonkers-bananas over the idea and i wanted to put out my interpretation of the idea. goin down the list by order of class. this is gonna be really fucking long so buckle up.
~OFFENSIVE CLASSES~
scout - he joked about doing it once and it slippery-sloped into doing it for realsies when ms pauling found him wearing her work clothes. you're crazy as hell to think that he'd tuck those family jewels of his because, in his words, "What's wrong with a little girl junk?" he'd definitely have a hard time trying to find his footing in it all, especially with learning how to do make-up and making it look decent, but there is no doubt in my mind that he'd become a cutesy bubble gum barbie mean girl. he'd be delusional as hell being a thinner queen and all and talk a lot of shit about how the other mercs are half the woman that he is because he's got body and they dont. GOOD LORD WOULD HE BE A DANCER THOUGH, look at that twink go. scout would drink a bonk before a gig and light that dance floor on fire that it'd make pyro sweat. his go to number is It's Not Unusual by Tom Jones, but i also think he'd do something by chubby checker or the beach boys. but what about a drag name? my first thought was The Girl Scout, but i think scout would be able to put more baseball meaning into it. Baby Ruth is just too good to pass up, i also thought about something Tom Jones oriented like Ms. Sexbomb, but honestly either work so well? regardless, i think a lot of the numbers he'd do would be Tom Jones songs considering how much he just worships the guy. like i said earlier, he'd also do a bit of chubby checker, in fact I almost made The Twist by Chubby Checker his go to number just because how danceable it is, which works well for a dancing queen like him. a lot of the clothes he wears is very danceable too, he's not for restrictive and tight-fitting gowns since he moves so much. its a lot of mini skirts and short dresses and lingerie, but he doesn't care if it makes his wardrobe boring. if you think it's boring, why dont you go to pyro's show for some weird visual gobbledygook? unknowingly spy's drag kid and i think thats fucking hilarious because they are nothing alike.
soldier - HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT HE'S DOING HE'S JUST HERE TO HAVE FUN, in his own soldier way! honestly one of the first things i was confident about drag queen soldier is that his name already kinda works??? Jane Doe is such a good name for no reason idk maybe im just delusional. however i think if someone told him he needed a drag name he'd make a funny look, think for a minute, and decide on Doe Jane. but im also realizing as i'm writing this that Dane Joe would also be a good runner up because it sounds like Dame Joe. from there his style is a cacophony of questionable decisions but only because he has no idea how it works. his eyeshadow will be patchy, he'll put on too much blush, and he will abuse the singular red lipstick that he stole from one of the other mercs (or ms pauling) until he runs out and steals again. "What on god's green Earth is a deathdrop??" (he's imagining its when you drop from an airplane with no parachute, or maybe some fucked up version of a rocket-jump). when he hears that he's got competition, suddenly other queens go missing and his red-white-and-blue sequin dress is covered in more red than it was last time. but there's no doubt in my mind that he started when he found out about demoman doing it because, come ON, tavish and jane being drag family is the only correct reality we can have here. which subsequently makes the fact that he has no idea what he's doing all the more funnier because ALL im just imagining is demoman showing him how makeup works and soldier just can't get it to that level. also idk where the hell the clip comes from but theres a film that has military men in it and they do a drag show and its from an older film. i am also imaging that this is jane's entire vibe too. his go to number is the US National Anthem. serving his cuntry one poorly sung star-spangled banner at a time.
pyro - remember what i said earlier about visual gobbledygook? what i mean is that pyro walked so that bjork could wear a goose. but like... make it fantastical candyland princess gobbledygook, with more bubble gum than scout's capable of chewing. so what if they show their mug? doesn't mean they can't make the rest of them just so, SO interesting to look at. pyro vision is their main influence and it works out so beautifully, making their own wardrobe and accessories, somehow able to make a dress that can stay perpetually on fire without going out and it's like their greatest work of genius... even if it quite literally set their show on fire. fire dressed and fire-seared dresses aside, the rest of their arsenal is some of the most interesting pieces you'll ever see. great big billowing gowns that tell a story among the many patterns and colors that encompass each layer from head to toe. everything is so intricately thought out and it takes a great understanding of pyro's artistic vision to get it all. pyro is the queen of camp and everyone is fine with it, even if they dont get it sometimes. im running in circles but you GET what im tryna say here, right? as for the performance aspect, would it be a stretch to say that pyro would be a theater nerd? like west side story, mary poppins, sound of music, hello dolly-- it just seems so perfect for pyro and i dont quite know how to explain it, i just know, and they'd kill it every time. a little awkward to dance around when in these big gowns of theirs, but they'd perform it in the way that a theater kid would (all im just imagining now is that scene from the diary of a wimpy kid movie where rodrick is crying at the performance of Memory from Cats LMAO). their go to number is Light my Fire by The Doors. i know, right?! theater kid and their go to number ISN'T a musical number! but do keep in mind that one of the members of the Doors was a poet, so it does at least count for something. the only reason why i say this song is because i cant stop imagining pyro doing a bunch of fire tricks during the instrumental portion of the song in that perpetual fire dress i was talking about earlier. its the reason why you GO to a pyro show, for the fire tricks, and hope you dont die watching. also, i haven't mentioned up to this point what exactly their drag name would be, but that's only just because Pyro works so well already? like its right there on the tin. im thinking that the other mercs would've nickenamed them Flamer, though.
~DEFENSIVE CLASSES~
demoman - right out of the gate, demo's drag name fucking has to be Molly Tav. its a stupid as hell pun but it works too well for it to not be his drag name. fun fact about him, he doesn't clean his brushes! at all! okay, well, actually thats a lie. he doesn't clean his brushes UNTIL he's gonna be doing make up again, and when he does do make up, he tries to use as little brushes as possible to save himself the work for next time. is it psycho? maybe? but these are the mercs we're talking about here. besides, he's gotten his drag down to a point that it doesn't take him more than an hour, he really doesn't need to use much. tavish is one of three mercs that i imagine were the first to start doing drag in the group, the other two being medic and engie. like all three of them were in a bathroom somewhere in teufort and fucking around with drag at the same time and taking their baby steps together. in that time, demo found his footing pageantry and dance. like pyro, he makes all of his stuff, but where he differs from pyro is that he's also makes wigs and is like the sole provider of them to the mercs. he's damn good at it too, just look at the shit that medic wears. anyways, going back to his perfomance skills, i associate him heavily with someone like coco montrese and tamisha imon in that he can be fashionable as hell with impressive outfits and amazing tits (i mean what) but also just werk the house down boots?? like look at grandma go! im trying my hardest to keep this all within the late 60s because thats when TF2 takes place in but... fuck i need to make an exception for demo. his go to song is Disco Inferno by the Trammps. it just works TOO well for him. if tina turner had released her cover in this period it would be her version all the way. its just a fucking demoman drag number and im only gonna be making this exception for him. maybe. anyways, i DID mention earlier that soldier would've started after finding out that demo did drag. the story of how that happened is that he was getting ready to sneak off and do a gig and soldier busted into his room and found him mid paint and was so confused. "TAVISH! You're a woman?" "Wot? No, you--" "You don't have to lie to me, maggot, I'll always support you!" like so ready to just become a trans ally because he though demo was like in the trans closet LMAOO. and then demo has to sit jane down and explain, no, he isn't trans, he just crossdresses. then he probably went to the gig tavish was going to and afterwards asked him if he could do it with him too since it looked like fun.
heavy - heavy is one of the harder ones to decide about, but i think he'd incorporate a mix of elegant glamor and russian influences. he's a modest and straight-forward guy and so i don't think he'd perceive drag the way the rest of the mercs do. basically what im saying here is that he's more of a hobbyist than a "i do drag for attention" kind of deal. like an older queen who's kinda over it, even though he's like one of the last mercs to get into doing it, maybe even the VERY last one. like in my mind up to this point he's shown up to teufort drag shows in solidarity with the other mercs, enjoyed watching them, but never saw himself as the type to do it until he decided one day TO do it out of curiosity. he'd very specifically seek out medic with questions since he did it first, and so i guess that'd technically make heavy medic's drag kid???? regardless, i from there's he'd blossom into kind of a lady??? like a very modest and mysterious lady, the one you'd gawk at when walking down the street and wonder "wow, she is gorgeous, i wanna know who she is". living with sisters too, i think he'd know how to sew too, but not on the incredible levels that pyro and demo are able to. he just knows sewing enough to get the job done and create dresses that he's proud of. he's inspired by the beauty of the women in his life and they're always on his mind when he dresses up (i like to think he looks like either his mom or one of his sisters when in drag). because he's a hobbyist, he doesn't have a drag number, nor a drag name since i think Heavy works fine, but i like to think that if he did have a drag name it'd have to do with his mom in some way...
engineer - he's the lady bunny of the mercs and idk why. anyways, i like to imagine him as one of those old fashioned, well rounded queens. like i said with demoman, he's one of the first mercs to start doing drag and i like to think that demo learned all his skills from engie! sewing skills? engie. costume creation? engie. wig styling? engie. it all comes back to engie. and he still does it! in alpacacare's original post one of the first things i initially disagreed on was how his style was. i couldn't see him as having makeup similar to trixie's, but now? fuck he sure as hell would, but i'm more inclined to believe it'd dip more into Divine's style of makeup. from there, its just as i said earlier, its just lady bunny LMAO. big ass wigs, cute dresses, but also some southern flare because he's a country boy! and beCAUSE he's a country boy i can't not imagine him playing guitar and singing. engineer in drag is like if Divine, Lady Bunny, and Trixie Mattel had a baby and its kind of insane how he embodies them all (for me, at least). AND ALSO GINGER MINGE!!! shes just the mother of all big-haired white women. what the fuck. honestly slay for him. OH OH OH-- okay, another kinda punny name because i think he'd ESPECIALLY adore it... a play on his actual name... Dellilah Imadame. AKLJFHSDLIGJHSDLKJGH IM SORRY ITS SO FUCKING GOOD FOR HIM GOD ITS TOO GOOD LMAOO. when you go to a Dellilah Imadame show, you're gonna expect two things: comedy and good-ass country. as i said earlier, he's well rounded, and one of his greatest skills is his ability to do guitar and sing. he's got a lot of original songs he's worked on, but he's also got some country artists up his sleeve! johnny cash, marty robbins, dolly parton, willie nelson, the list really just doesn't stop. and i KNOOOWW i said earlier that i wouldn't make any more exceptions but....... FUUUUCK IM SORRY. his go to number is Jolene by Dolly Parton-- THERE OKAY THATS MY LAST EXCEPTION 1974 IS CLOSE ENOUGH GOD DAMMIT. but you have to admit. he'd KNOW the words, he'd KNOW how to do the guitar for it, ITS TOO FUCKING PERFECT!!! IT'S TOO PERFECT FOR ENGIE!!! besides that, comedy is also a big part of his shows. he's the teufort funny man and god dammit he will be funny. its a nice mix of puns and stories from his life and scary good impressions of his fellow mercs, all actings as great buffers in between his more musical performances. i would go to an engie drag show, idk about you. actually, speaking of shows, i think he'd be the main one responsible for setting up gigs and shows around teufort! he's a professional hostess and probably has sniper and medic help him out when stringing it all together. bigggg "kind southern mama" energy when he hosts. omg is he my favorite drag queen among the mercs????
~SUPPORT CLASSES~
medic - nevermind, he's my favorite merc in drag (though im a little biased as an intense medic enjoyer). the RuPaul of tf2 drag. the mama of them all. it was MEDIC who had the idea of doing drag with engie and demoman, in fact i wouldn't be surprised if he started doing drag WAAAAY before the events of tf2. like look at that man. look at that man. that is a queer man who rummaged through his mother's clothing as a child and put on her makeup. he likes to joke with engie and demo that him playing dress-up as a kid was "Ze first of many symptoms, eheh!" he probably did drag for a while when he was like 17, messed around with some men, and then never touched it again until the memory crossed his mind while at teufort. now that he's matured some, he's eager to get back into the game with a new frame of mind. OH MY GOD DOES HE WERK. if you want extra, if you want drama, if you want gorgeous, if you want over the top, medic is the queen to look to. he puts so much time and effort and blood and sweat and tears and stolen body parts into his drag is legitimately insane. he's so refined and his style of drag is so iconic and recognizable that it can't be anyone OTHER than him. stunning outfits at his disposal ranging from articulate gowns to fucking cougar realness, to great big beautiful wigs of many different kinds in a shades like black, brown, and white. he's a fucking WO-MAN, he puts d in drag, good fucking christ he eats it up every single time. there's no cutting corners, there's no being lazy, he treats drag with the same amount of seriousness that he does medicine. and when he performs? UUUWAAAAAGH WHEN 👏 HE 👏 PER 👏 FORMS 👏!! i cannot decide if he's a shea coulee kind of performer, a kennedy davenport kind of performer, or an alyssa edwards kind of performer (if you know you know). regardless he's a queen that puts a lot of pressure on a queen like scout, who fucking prides himself on being able to dance circles around the other girls. its that age old rivalry of new queens vs older queens, dance skill vs good ol' fashion campy lip syncing. i think just in general medic and scout would have a lot of catty beef??? obvious medic's a bit more professional and cool-headed, but even then, scout definitely annoys him. hell, maybe they even lip sync with each other sometimes as a double act, just because EEEVERYONE in teufort knows how much they bring it. no one can ever decides who does it better, with one side on medic for bringing more interesting variety in perfomance and keeping that integrity in veteran drag, while the other side just drooling over the sheer physical capabilities that scout brings to dance and his energy. rivalry aside, he also acts as co-host to the drag shows that engie hosts, creating a lot of funny banter and aiding engie in how the show runs on a technical level. he is a professional business woman and producer, if you need help with putting together a drag show, medic is like the second guy to go to if engie is somehow not able to. again, the fucking RuPaul of teufort drag. now, what about a name? i thought long and hard about a drag name that just suits medic so well, puns about morphine and amphetamines were like the first things i thought about. i also thought about how to play german into his drag queen persona, maybe even shoehorning his name in there somewhere. i even thought of just giving him a single name like Ella to match with how simple and slick a name like RuPaul is, even something like Eine Kleine since it works really well too. but fuck, i love a good pun, and i think medic would get a kick out of this one. please welcome to the stage, Anita Dokter. YEAH. its fucking genius i know. i tried to think of anything that could be smarter than this, but fuck, its like TOO good of a drag name to pass up. im a little jealous. his go to number is Old McDonald by Ella Fitzgerald. need i say more.
sniper - okay, here's the tea. the only thing i knew for sniper was that his drag name had to be Joey Hunter. other than that, thinking of shit for sniper was really hard. but! i looked to a lot of the older queens from rupaul's drag race for inspiration and specifically stuck to queens like Ms. Kasha Davis, Chad Michaels, and Katya (LOL) when it came to sniper's whole thing with drag. he's a workhorse, first of all, and acts as more of the technical brains with engie when it comes to putting shows together. he was also the last one besides heavy and soldier to get into doing drag, and started doing it as a way to take the edge off. he never really saw the point in all its more competitive attention-grabbing side, so he kind of just sticks to his own things. he's got absolutely 0 time for drama or arguing of any kind and primarily focuses on being a straight-laced profession because he just doesnt have the time nor energy to put up with petty drama. im imagining him, in the corner of the dressing room the mercs are taking up before a show, minding his own business as scout's tryna talk mad smack about medic for being "out of his prime" and should move over so that younger queens like him can have their turn in the spotlight. sniper doesn't touch the situation, but he definitely has some opinions on it that he voices with someone like spy later after the show. he doesn't touch it when it happens, but that doesn't mean he isn't impressed by such behavior. performance wise, i'm takin inspiration from Katya here and saying that he's rather flexible! a lot of his acts will be him doing impressive gymnastics with some instrumental music in the background. its a nice warm up performance at the beginning of a lot of the shows he and the other mercs do, getting the crowd prepared with hand stands, backbends, balancing acts, and sloooooow splits. you'd think that make him a forgettable part of the show, until he starts doing things a very tall stool, balancing things from balls to some of his rifles. maybe there was one time when he wanted to do something different, so he set up a bullseye at the end of the show stage and got into the crowd, balancing off of someone's shoulders and using his feet to fire a bullet from one of his sniper rifles. of course, it was a point-blank shot. it was supposed to be a one time thing, but the way people were talking about it once the show was over made it an occasional part of his act. that's what i mean when, gynmnastics are one thing, but sniper just brings it to a whole other level when he's in drag! his personal style is nothing to sneeze at either, i feel like it'd be very inspired by lara croft from the tomb raider series. lots of different adventuring outfits with emphasis on booty shorts and camo prints and patterns, perhaps putting a literal spin on the word "camp" LMAO. his go to number is Pistol Packin' Mama by Bing Crosby (ft. The Andrew Sisters). a lot of his lipsync numbers are duets that he does with spy, just because i feel like he'd enjoy it. you sniper x spy shippers can take this however you want it to LOLLL.
spy - category is vixen in the night. ooooh my god is he fucking HOT. old hollywood glamour type beat with form fitting slinky gowns and curly hair combined with the modest and demure fashion of 1940s france. he literally has the exact same slip dress that jessica rabbit has in both red and blue and my god and does he have the BAWDY to pull it off. like my man is SNATCHED. like CINCHED for the gods, all of his organs are gone and his ribs are non-existent. his waist is 🤏 this small you could snap him like a twig if you really wanted to. i find it kinda funny that scout unintentionally shares a similar body type that his dad has when in drag and unintentionally being his drag kid, i think its really really funny. i also imagine that he's a big regulator of scout's stupidity, stopping him when he's getting too snappy or too annoying and knocking him down a peg for the sake of everyone else's sanity in the work room. anywho, out of all the mercs, spy's wardrobe is the most expensive. i mean, no brainer, right? he gets his gear from a boutique in a part of france that isnt even on a map, where he got his drag measurements taken inch for inch, millimeter for millimeter, so that everything on him fits perfectly. nothing too tight, nothing too loose, its all just right for him. same goes for his makeup, expensive little palettes and sickening red lipsticks with skin that makes him look close to 10 years younger. its kind of scary how he just manages to look so different in drag compared to out of, but that may just be a perk of his class. from there, i can only imagine spy just being the thief of peoples' hearts during his performances, the way his body sways just right and so fluidly with the music, interacting with the crowd in such sensual ways yet teasing those who are SO into it. very "you wish you could have me". all of this is to say that he's a master seductress and also a very good singer! i think he'd do a lot of french covers of classic, slow jazz songs, and obviously his fair share of french hits. because of that, i can see no better name than Édith Longet. a combination of two of some of the greatest french singers, a name fitting for a french beauty like spy. his go to number is La Vie en rose by Édith Piaf.
so yeah! those are my thoughts on the matter. i am well and open to suggestions of other people who may come across this and be as mentally ill about it as i am. you should also just REALLY check out @alpacacare's original post about the matter because i based a lot of this off of that.
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hangmans-girl · 2 years
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We're Even Now, Are We? (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader)
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Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Kazansky!Reader
Summary: After years of being in competition with each other, both of you realize that there was more to your tension than what meets the eye.
Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of death, Swearing, poorly-used naval aviation words and phrases, changed some details about the story and i'm screaming praying and hoping that it doesn't ruin the story, this was dragged on for so long and idk if this makes sense anymore i'm just gonna publish it for the sake of my mental health.
Words: 5,539
Author's note: This is the first work that I have that I've decided to post. Please bear with the plot and grammatical mistakes. I whipped this up from my brain at the last minute before deciding to write it down. English isn't my first language and I had no one to proofread this for me so, yeah. Hope you enjoy it!
Callsign: Knockout
"What do we have here," Hangman greets Phoenix as she walks toward the pool alley, behind her were two unfamiliar men. "And here I thought we were special, Coyote, turns out the invite went to everyone."
Phoenix replied with a scoff as she turned her head to the side. "Fellas, this here's Bagman."
"Hangman."He quickly corrected as he leaned on the pool table.
"Fanboy and Payback, newest recruits, "Phoenix added. Both men nodded to Coyote and Hangman. Phoenix turns to look at the man who's eating peanuts on the bench beside the pool table.
The man introduced himself as Bob, who turned out to be Phoenix's new backseater. Phoenix then ran to greet Rooster, who came in too late when everyone was doing introductions. Unlike everyone, he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a white tanktop, and casual jeans.
After Hangman and Rooster's passive-aggressive conversation, Phoenix suddenly remembered something. "Is this all of us? Everyone here is the best there is, why isn't Kazansky here with us?"
Hangman grinned at the question. "Maybe she isn't as good as you think she is, Phoenix. The invitation can't go to just anyone, you know."
Phoenix scoffed at his remark. "Kazansky graduated at the top of the class with you and she's the only TOP GUN graduate of our generation with 3 confirmed air combat kills. If those aren't good, then I don't know what is."
"Missed me that much, Trace?" All heads turned towards the doorway. Phoenix came running towards you with a huge smile. You welcomed her with open arms as she hugged you tight.
"Damn it, Kazansky. I knew you'd make it." She broke the hug and wrapped her arms around your waist. You turned your eyes towards Rooster who stood to greet you as well.
"Bradshaw, glad to see you." You shook his hand as he shook yours, returning an acknowledging smile at you.
You then turned to Fanboy, Bob, and Payback to greet them. As you turned around, you've seen a fair share of new faces and a bunch of familiar ones, too. But your eyes never failed to notice the cocky blonde man leaning by the pool table, smirking in your direction.
"Kazansky, as I live and breathe." Hangman greeted. You smirked at his snarky tone. You walked closer to the table, grabbing a lone cue stick at the side as you sought a random ball at the pool table.
"Hangman. I honestly thought I'd seen the last of you, but here we are."
Hangman wore a smug grin on his face. "Seems like destiny couldn't just pull us apart, honey." You chuckled at his remark, pulling an eight-point score on the game as you bent up to wait for his turn to play.
"I know, but you'd like that, wouldn't you? I mean, you'll have to keep seeing me if you want to get ahead of me." You gave him a sweet smile, an annoying one at that on his part. He was still grinning at you, but he slightly squinted at the mischievous glint in your eyes.
"That's your excuse for telling me that you want me around you, Kazansky? That is very unlike you." Hangman's smirk got wider as he tilted his head to look into your eyes. Everyone around you was just staring at the both of you, enjoying the little show you and Hangman were putting on.
This was like a routine since you and Jake made it in highschool. You fought a lot about who was better than the other and always ended up tying at everything you both did.
"Oh, I'd only want top pilots around and you aren't on that list," You trailed, walking closer to him as you rubbed some chalk at the tip of your cue stick.
"But you're almost there, Bagman. 2 more confirmed kills and maybe you'll catch up." You added, placing your cue stick at the side as you tapped his chest with your palms, attempting to straighten the crumpled edges of his khaki service uniform.
He looked down at you, still with a grin, before you turned your back from him and made your way to the bar. You grabbed a lone bottle of cold beer as you made your way to a familiar man. "Long time no see, Uncle Mav," You greeted as you hopped on to sit on the chair beside him.
"Y/N? Look at you, you're all grown up now!" Maverick beamed at you as he took a minute to take your presence all in.
Maverick used to babysit you back when you were still a child. From what you have heard, he and your Dad shared a special bond because of a mission that they did 30 years ago. For that reason, Maverick also considered you as his own and taught you everything you had to know about everything -- including aviation.
"So, 3 confirmed kills within your stay at TOP GUN. Congratulations, kid. I'm proud of you." He tapped your shoulder as he smiled at you.
"Thanks," You replied. "What brings you here at North Island?"
"Well, you know," He shrugged. You already knew the answer to that.
"Yeah, you pissed off yet another Admiral. What's the punishment this time?"
"I don't know yet, I think I'll know by tomorrow. What about you? I thought you were stationed in Iran?"
"I got a call from TOP GUN. They want me to do a mission with the others," You pointed at the pool alley. Maverick nodded in response. You got off the chair and tapped his back.
"I heard you're paying for a round? Thanks, Uncle Mav. See you around." You headed to the exit as you hurriedly got on your motorbike, heading towards your parents' house.
******
"Took you long enough to visit me," Your Dad typed. You gave him an apologetic smile before giving him a hug. You quickly pulled a chair as you sat in front of him.
"I got a call from TOP GUN to do a mission, Dad."
He nodded before proceeding to type again. "If it weren't for the mission, would you have come?"
You reached for his hand and gave him a smile. "If you told me to go home, I would have flown right away to see you, Dad." Your brows furrowed. "Dad, don't tell me you were the one who called me."
He immediately shook his head as he turned to type. "The navy sees to it that they only call the best. It's a good thing that you are. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to see you."
Your eyes watered at the reply but you tried your best not to show it."Thanks, Dad. I'll come by to see you again soon. I only have a few more minutes 'till curfew."
He typed again. "You got an Admiral for a Dad and yet you're scared of breaking the curfew?"
You chuckled lightly at his response. "Oh, Dad." You then gave him a tight hug. He nodded in acknowledgment before you left.
******
After Rear Admiral Bates introduced Maverick, all of you had to do a dogfight exercise. When the first batch was done and was subjected to 200 push-ups, You, Hangman, Phoenix, and Bob were next to go up against Maverick. As his mentee when you were still 17 and learning, you were aware of how good Maverick was in his expertise. It made you nervous, but all you had to do was apply what he and your Dad had taught you. After all, you only learned from the best.
Still, even with the applied training that you had, Maverick got the best of all of you. "See you at the base and get ready for your pushups," Maverick says before he navigates away from all of you. Just as when you were about to fly back to the base, you detected a bogey on your radar.
"Phoenix, there's a bogey on my radar. Do you see him?"
"Positive, Knockout. Talk to me, Bob. How close?"
"10 miles and six o'clock low, Phoenix."
"Ignore it, let's return to base immediately--" Your words were cut off by a beep emitting from Phoenix and Bob's radio pulse control, signaling they were put under missile lock.
You saw two more bogeys on your radar. "Shit, bandits. Hangman, cover them!" No response. It took you a minute to realize that he had already left right when Maverick did. Damn him!
"Break right, Phoenix! Avoid them for as long as you can." You said before breaking left to distract the other bogeys. You then successfully chased off one bandit before calling for backup. Good thing Maverick came in time to scare off the rest of the bogeys as he escorted the rest of you back to the base.
As soon as all of you landed, you got off your plane and looked for Hangman. And there he was already on his black shirt, laughing with Coyote as if nothing happened.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" You carelessly threw your helmet to the ground as you walked toward him, fuming in pure anger. You stopped as he stood still, looking down at you with a smug grin as if he didn't just risk two lives to save himself during a close encounter with an enemy aircraft that thankfully didn't result in dogfighting.
"What do you want, sunshine?" He asked, shifting the toothpick on his lips as he placed his hands on both of his pockets. You scoffed and shook your head in disbelief. Did he honestly not care about what he did?!
"You left Phoenix and BoB hanging while they were being chased by an enemy aircraft! They could have been bombed up there!" You growled. Hangman was being insufferable right now. Everyone knew how hell-bent he was on being the best of the best to be picked by Maverick as the Team Leader, but he didn't have to go THAT far. Fuck him, he couldn't even help his wingmen when they were in danger!
"I didn't really hear anything, sweets. They could have hollered, but they didn't."He replied with a patronizing smile and a sarcastic voice as though he was talking to a child. .
That was it. You pushed his chest in anger, earning a grip on both of your arms from Phoenix and Bob. "It's fine, (Y/N). It's not like you'll change whatever is going on inside of his damn head."
You sighed in exasperation, shaking the grips off of your arms as you smirked. "You wanna know something, Hangman?" He tilted his head in wonder, taking a step toward you.
"What's that?"
You took a step even closer, feeling his peppermint breath on your lips. "As long as I am here, you will never be the team leader." You replied, mimicking his patronizing smile as you glared at him before you dragged Phoenix and Bob away from the scene.
Hangman clenched his jaw as he took a deep breath to calm himself down. He turned to kick the chair beside him as he watched it move to the other side of the briefing room. Coyote sighed as he shook his head, grabbing the nearest seat in his range.
"Honestly, that was a douchey move you did up there, Jake. She actually has a point more than you care to admit."
Hangman grinned in disbelief as he scoffed. He grabbed his leather jacket from the seat as he headed towards the door. "I don't fucking need that right now, Coyote."
****
Through the years, you learned how to push his buttons. You and Jake knew each other since middle school. He always rivaled you at anything academic. The cycle went on until both of you went to college, flight school, and admission to TOPGUN.
His hatred towards you flared, even more, when he found out that you were the only daughter of the Admiral and head of the US Pacific Fleet. He believed that your admission to TOPGUN was purely based on Admiral Kazansky's influence and position, not because you had earned that spot with nothing but your hard-earned credentials and competency. That's what he made people believe.
That's a factor, though. You were told how much you flew like your father; ice cold, no mistakes. It made people give you the benefit of the doubt.
But you honestly didn't give a shit about what he'd say. You made it a routine not to lose your patience over trivial matters--especially when it came to Hangman's bullshit. You knew how it sent him over the moon when you show a reaction to whatever he says, and your pride cannot afford to give him that kind of satisfaction.
However, your rivalry with Hangman stuck out like a sore thumb every flight practice. He'd chase you like a madman in the wind in an attempt to put you under missile lock to ruin your day until he doesn't since you always outdo him. The other aviators would just shrug when they hear Hangman swear over the radio.
You even earned your callsign, "Knockout" because of him.
"What did you just say?" You turned in his direction, still in disbelief about what you have just heard.
"I said, it's such a shame that your brain is not as big as your ass---" Unable to hold it in, you gave him a powerful right hook on his cheek to knock the stupid grin off of his face, causing him to land unconscious on the ground.
"Fucking asshole." You growled under your breath as you sent him a death glare while he lays flat on the ground. You didn't care about anything you valued at that moment. Assault as a ground for expulsion? humiliation to your father's honorable name? You couldn't care less. All you wanted was to give this bastard a good talking to through your fist.
In the corner stood the Navy Commander who watched the whole thing unfold. "Lieutenant Kazansky and...can someone please carry Lieutenant Seresin into my office, NOW!"
"In this institution, we do not condone violence. I believe your father must have taught you about that already, Lieutenant Kazansky." The Navy Commander said as he leaned on his chair, taking a good look at both of you.
"My father also taught me not to tolerate disrespect, sir. I only did what I thought was best for the situation...Sir." You replied, looking straight into the office's blinds, not meeting the Navy Commander's glare. He sighed as he assessed the situation.
Hangman on the other hand was busy sulking while he held an icepack on the bruise he got a while ago. "Fine. Here's what we'll do," The Navy Commander stood from his seat as he made his way in front of his desk so he could be much closer to the both of you.
He pointed at you. "Your official callsign from now on will be Knockout," He then turned to Hangman. "That will serve as punishment for you, Lieutenant Seresin. You call her callsign, and you'll be reminded of the humiliation caused by the punch she gave you. Do this again, the both of you, and I'll be forced to resort to disciplinary action. Am I understood?" He pointed at both of you.
"Yes, Sir!" You both said in sync.
"Dismissed."
That's when he started to refuse to call you by your callsign.
*****
"Another pint, go easy on the foam."
Penny looks at Hangman with a curious gaze as she nods, grabbing his empty glass to refill it. "That's three in a row. Bad day?"
"I just like drinking. Does that count?"
"You know what, I'm just not gonna ask." Penny shook her head as she placed the refilled pint in front of him before she proceeded to accommodate her customers.
Hangman grabbed his mug and chugged half of its content, sighing loudly before wiping the foam off his lips. He was pissed, alright. After musing for a few hours, he finally admitted to himself that you actually had a point; he never should have done that.
He hated that you were right. You were always there to rub it in his face whenever you had a chance. Hangman frowned at the thought, grabbing his mug to drink again.
"As long as I am here, you will never be the team leader."
He slammed the empty glass on the counter as he hung his head low in anger. What you said wasn't half as bad as what he would hear from the other aviators. In fact, even if he did hear something, it wouldn't really matter to him since he knew what he was capable of.
But what you said, struck him like lightning. It clung to his brain like a leech, your words on repeat in his head.
The door chime made a sound, snapping Hangman out of his thoughts. He turned his head at the doorway to see you, Phoenix, Bob, and Rooster. At his gaze, only you stood out.
You were in your typical black leather jacket, jeans, and white shoes. Your hair wasn't in a bun like you would always wear it and it hung beautifully on your shoulders and back.
Hangman, for some reason, watched your every move. The way you used your fingers to comb your hair back, the way you laughed at what Rooster said, and most importantly, why the hell were you smiling like that?
Seeming to have heard his own thoughts, Hangman groaned as he shook his head in an attempt to get himself together. At that moment, he figured it was all nonsense and it was just the repressed rage and alcohol talking.
"Put it on my tab, Pen," Hangman announced before hopping off his seat as he headed towards the pool alley.
"Hey, Man. I've been looking all over for you. Let's go play some pool." Coyote tapped his back and handed him his beer and his signature cue stick. Hangman slightly squints at the sight of you as he made his way towards the side of the pool table where you and Rooster were currently standing.
Good God, what now? You thought.
Rooster sighed in apparent displeasure at the sight of him. "Hangman."
Hangman tilted his head in acknowledgment as he smirked. "Rooster."
You rolled your eyes and sighed, turning your attention to Phoenix who was holding a couple of bottled beers. You decided to help her instead of staying in the same presence as Hangman because you might not be able to resist the urge to punch his stupid face.
Hangman gave you a quick glance before turning his eyes back onto Rooster's who was looking back at his eyes suspiciously as if he was checking if he was plotting something bad. "A round?"
Rooster shook his head. "I'll pass. I'm suddenly not in the mood to play anymore."
Hangman shrugged as he grinned. "Always keeping it safe is not a good thing, Bradshaw." Hearing him say this made you roll your eyes again.
"I'll keep that in mind, Seresin. Go play with your balls." Rooster replied as he leaned his cue stick by the table as he headed to the piano.
Phoenix stood up from her seat. "Looks like Rooster's playing." You turned your head towards the stage to see Rooster warming up by the piano. You smiled as you got up from your seat, grabbing Phoenix by the arm to head by the side of the piano.
Rooster was good at performing and it always helped with stress if you sang along while he played. After all, you needed to be entertained, to keep your mind off of things, and forget your unbridled rage toward Hangman.
Bob, Fanboy, and Payback followed the both of you to join the little musical Rooster has set up, too.
As Rooster started performing, people started to cheer and gather around the stage.
Hangman suddenly wanted out of the game, so he made an excuse. "You guys go ahead. I'll be at the counter. I need more drinks." He walked out of the pool alley without waiting for their replies, desperate to see more of the performance up close.
Hangman knew he wasn't supposed to care about this little 'ensemble', but he couldn't help himself. He mindlessly ordered a pint of beer as he never took his eyes off of the stage...and you.
You sang along Rooster as you vibed joyously with the song. The sight of your beautiful smile, which he's never seen before, and your incandescent presence took him a minute or two to realize that he wasn't breathing for a moment.
Hangman's brows furrowed in realization. He can't be. Fuck, this is not happening, he thought. He chugged the rest of the beer on his hand as he ordered one after another, attempting to drown the unsolicited thoughts that he has about you.
As the song came to an end, so did Hangman's little drinking spree. He drank those pints pretty fast, even Penny was surprised at the speed. Good thing he didn't get drunk and risk word-vomiting shit he wouldn't even dare say if he was sober.
Hangman decided to call it a night, leaving the bar without saying goodbye to any of you. All that he wanted at that moment was to go home and think for the rest of the night.
***
It had been almost 3 weeks since the training started. All of you were briefed on the terrain that you were expected to encounter before the mission starts. Although distracted, Hangman was a lot more focused than he had expected. The thought of you in such light was also buried at the back of his mind because of the mission.
After the whole brawl with Rooster and Hangman, you got a call from your mom telling you to come home immediately. You already knew what it was all about. You immediately gave Maverick a heads up before leaving the base. The last time you came to visit him, he was already in a bad state. What could have possibly gone wrong?
"Hang in there, Dad. I'm coming." You whispered as you drove fast to your house.
The moment you got there, your mom came running to you in tears. "He's gone, sweetheart. He's gone." She sobbed in your arms as you tried to process everything she had just said. You shook your head in denial, holding both of your mother's arms as you looked into her eyes.
"No, he isn't, Mom. I-I still have to--I promised him I'd see him soon, he wouldn't just leave like that."Tears welled up in your eyes as you fought your way to your Dad's room.
There he was, laying cold and peaceful on his bed. "Daddy? I've come to see you now." You kneeled at the side of the bed as you held his cold hands in your warm ones.
Seeing your Dad, the best and the ever-strong fighter pilot you have always admired in this state made you sob uncontrollably. He's gone, he's really gone now.
You felt a hand on your shoulder. "He told me to tell you that he was proud of you, although he thought you already knew, he still wanted to tell you that before he left." That didn't help your grief as your chest tightened even more and your sobs grew even louder.
That night, you cried yourself to sleep at your Dad's office as you hugged the brown bear you used to play with when you were young that he kept as a decoration on his table next to your picture. You fell asleep wishing that he'd still be there to hug you in times like this.
Everyone was notified of the news. Admiral Kazansky's death shook lots of hearts that he inspired and people who admired him. To say that Maverick was devastated was an understatement. One of the greatest friends that he had was gone and it felt like the loss he felt with Goose all over again. The rest of the aviators were saddened at the news, too.
As soon as the news came out, you were the first person who came into Jake's mind. He and the other aviators helped with the preparations for the burial of Admiral Kazansky as you chose to stay at your house and be within the presence left by your Dad for one last time.
You stood motionless as your tears streamed down your cheeks while the ceremony carried on. Jake, on the other hand, never removed his eyes from you. His eyes softened at the sight of your grieving state. You looked so broken and pained that he felt uneasy as he was used to your ice-cold, sarcastic demeanor.
After the burial, they were tasked to go back to base, but Jake decided to break the rules for once and stay behind. He went to look for you and he found you by your father's grave, kneeling in front of it as you touched the cold gravestone.
You felt a presence behind you as you looked back to see who it was. "What are you doing here? I don't want to deal with you right now, Hangman."
Jake sighed as he bowed his head in response. "I'm not here to make fun of you," He took a step closer, "Your father was a great man, though I didn't know him that much...I'll be here if you need me." He says as he sat on the grass beside you.
Your tears started falling again as you sobbed. You didn't care anymore if he found you weak for that. You wanted to grieve until the pain subsides. "He told me he was proud of me, Jake,"
"But he was so impatient as always that he couldn't even wait for me to come back for him to say it to me personally. I hate him.." You fell to the ground, your hand leaning on his gravestone as you wept uncontrollably.
Jake couldn't remember the last time he saw you in this kind of state. Or you just never have experienced this before. You were always so strong and resilient that Jake once told himself that making you cry would be an achievement. But seeing you like this, a mess from crying for hours, it made him feel like he had lost something, too.
He tapped your back gently to comfort you as you fell into his arms, bawling your eyes out as both of you remained like that for hours.
*****
Weeks have passed since the death of your Dad. The pain was still there, but it was bearable enough for you to get some sleep at night. Sadly, you weren't able to train with the others for the mission since you knew that you were going to be distracted, anyway.
Maverick also told you that it wouldn't be possible for you to be a part of the mission because he wanted to let you grieve and you agreed.
That wasn't a problem on your part since you wanted to take your mind off of things and you still had to think things through, especially the part where Hangman decided to grieve with you on that day.
That day, he wasn't Hangman. It was Jake. The one who made sure that no one made fun of you when your parents failed to attend an event at school, the one who made sure to get you home safe after you punched a bunch of bullies in the schoolyard, the one who comforted you at times when your Dad was away on special missions, and the one you had feelings for before competition got in between your bond.
Despite your rivalry, you and Jake knew each other best. He knew your allergies more than your parents did and you knew what he feared the most in his life that he kept from everyone. While you were each other's enemies, you were also each other's comfort.
You had to admit, you felt better when he comforted you. After that day, you started to see him in a different light, the one where you didn't have the urge to strangle him if you were given a chance to.
Today, Maverick chose the ones he deemed ready for the mission. Phoenix and Bob as Dagger 1, Fanboy and Payback as Dagger 2, and Rooster and Hangman were chosen as Maverick's wingmen. You felt proud of them but at the same time, you felt anxious for them.
Hangman was ecstatic at being chosen as one of Maverick's wingmen, but he also felt like thinking twice before doing the mission for some reason. Ever since that night, you were all he could ever think about. He stared at you from the corner of the briefing room as he was suiting up for the mission, wondering how you were holding up.
He held himself back since he thought that it may remind you of the event that you're trying hard to forget. As soon as he was finished suiting up, he immediately made his way to the tarmac where everybody was busy double-checking their planes.
"Jake," He heard someone call out his name despite the deafening sound of the engine around him. It was you. He stopped in his tracks as he looked back at you, waiting for you to speak.
"Make sure you come back home alive. You and I still have a game to finish," You added as you walked closer to him, tapping his shoulder lightly.
"You can do it." You gave him a warm, genuine smile before exiting the tarmac, leaving Jake with his crazy, beating heart.
As soon as all of them took off, you and the rest of the aviators stood by the radio to listen while they executed the mission. They had two minutes and thirty seconds to fly low through the canyons, beneath hostile surface-to-air missiles, and reach the target. You sat there in worry. Although it would only take a short time, a lot could happen in two minutes.
You felt a pang of relief when you confirmed that they were able to bomb the target. Miracle number one was finally done. All they had to do was get home in one piece---but all hell broke loose when the SAMs and fifth-generation jets launched to intercept the squadron, resulting in a dogfight.
Maverick's plane was shot down and it caused panic among everyone. When the rest of the enemy planes were shot down, the rest returned to base immediately, but Rooster stayed behind and looked for Maverick. Hangman was also nowhere to be found.
After hours of being off-the-radar, Maverick shows up with an F-14 TOMCAT with Rooster. You sighed in relief as you high-fived Coyote, who was also as nervous as you were. But then, listening to the mission unfold was like a rollercoaster ride of emotions. Maverick and Rooster ran out of ammunition while they were being chased by a fifth-generation jet. Just as when they thought about giving up, the enemy plane blew into pieces as a familiar, cocky voice rang from the radio.
"Good Afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your savior speaking. Please fasten your seat belts, return the tray tables to their locked and upright positions and prepare for landing."
"Hey, Hangman, you look good." Rooster says, relief evident in his voice.
"I am good, Rooster. I'm very good. I'll see you back on deck." Hangman replies, as all of you who were gathered around the radio, hugged each other in joy and relief.
The rest of the team who were on the mission arrived as you gave them a hug. Maverick, Rooster, and Hangman landed as well as everyone cheered for their arrival. You ran to Maverick and gave him a hug. "Dad's right, you're quite hard to get rid of, Uncle Mav." He laughed in response as he tapped your shoulder.
"Glad to see you, kid." He replied. You then turned to Rooster as you hugged him as well. You felt happy and relieved that all of them came back safe that you almost hugged everyone you saw-- but not everyone. You made your way towards Jake who was busy shaking people's hands and entertaining praises around him.
"So, I heard you got another confirmed kill." You stated. He nodded as he grinned proudly.
"That makes it two."
You nodded in acknowledgment as you never removed your eyes from his'. "One more and you're there, Bagman."
He took a step closer to you as he smiled. "So, 7 pm?" You chuckled as you raised a brow.
"I told you, I only date top pilots. Are you?"
"Damn straight, I am."
You smiled like an idiot and rolled your eyes at his confident response as you walked away from him. After a few more steps, you looked back at him who was still standing there, waiting for your answer. "6 pm, The Hard Deck. Don't be late, you're not the only one who's on the list, Seresin."
Jake's smile widened as he gave you a small salute. "Yes, ma'am."
That night, both of you came to terms with your feelings. After all, both of you were practically even now.
567 notes · View notes
eoieopda · 10 months
Note
Oh we're doing horny head canons now?
Please do a members fav position and/or fav kinks cause... Yk👀
my brother in christ, let’s fucking go.
idk how many times namjoon has to reference dick riding in a song for us to believe him. this dude lives and breathes for reverse cowgirl. if he’s not watching that ass move with two hands full, he’s wasting his time.
i’m 99% sure seokjin has a breeding kink. i don’t know why i know it, but i know it. this is the reality i’ve chosen. he’s also brat tamer — i can and will die on this hill.
in my heart, i know that yoongi wants to be pegged. not only that, but he wants to be choked. lil soft boi does, in fact, want to be roughed up. argue with the wall 😌 also — face sitting?? his tongue is absolutely never in his mouth. he was warning us, all along. ahem. anyways….
hoseok is an exhibitionist, i’m sure of it. whether that’s fucking where you can be caught or intentionally bringing in someone to watch, he’s down. he’s a showman; he’ll show you. definitely wants to fuck in front of/under a mirror so he can watch y’all himself.
in my head, jimin loves to edge and be edged. idk why my brain leaps here, but it does. he’s a menace. he’s gonna drag this shit out as long as possible, i fear. also, somebody is getting restrained. who? well, you’ll find out.
taehyung….. well, it’s neither a kink nor a position, but the very first thing that has popped into my brain is that this dude loves sloppy head. like, messy messy. wet, loud, obscene. giving or receiving, he doesn’t care. he’s filming it, too, or at least recording audio — and you know he’s listening to this depraved shit through his headphones while he grocery shops, etc.
every position is jungkook’s favorite position?? i feel like he has position adhd, and he’s gonna hit it every 👏🏻 which 👏🏻 way 👏🏻. the most eager-to-please sub/bottom of all time. he’ll be so good for you, but he wants you to tell him how. praise is mandatory, btw!!! he’s also filming, but it’s so he can improve his form in the future, sorry :/
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jjunis · 1 year
Text
a taste of something new — soobin x f!reader
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44. you're my friend — WC: 5.4k
A/N: it is time ! this is long as fuck bc it was gonna be two separate chapters but i merged them together so......... ye. technically a double update in one!! yay!! also shoutout to that anon from the other day, you're so valid my friend!! you were so right!! anyway um. there are some spoilers in the warnings so idk beware of that?? don't wanna spoil it but kinda have to for ethical reasons ! anyway hope you enjoy it. please don't murder me. (and i changed the picture of the playlist pls appreciate it /j)
WARNINGS: the usual cursing, mentions of alcohol consumption, being (and kissing) under the influence of alcohol, insecurities, jealousy, arguing, some making out, things get a little heated so beware bc this is the chapter where the 16+ rating and the "might contain suggestive bits" we have in the masterlist warnings come into play i guess? lol but also i'm not good at writing this stuff so it's cool. (if you feel uncomfortable reading the last part of the chapter feel free to skip it!! it's nothing explicit but it's also easily skippable so don't worry)
playlist here | ko-fi | taglist on the reblogs — click here to join!
← chapter forty-three | masterlist | chapter forty-five (part one) →
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A party packed with college students is definitely not Soobin's scene.
He knows it, his friends know it, you know it, anyone who looks at him for longer than five seconds knows it. It's common knowledge, it's like looking up at the sky on a sunny day and saying "hey, the sky looks blue". Of course it does. It's stupidly obvious.
Still, you somehow managed to team up with Yeonjun and drag Soobin to a party along with you. Allegedly, this was supposed to be a little get-together, just a simple fun night with friends at Yeonjun and Beomgyu's place, some games, some drinks, some food. A small party, in his best friend's words. At first, everyone was chilling, talking about the most random things, playing stupid games together, etc. But slowly, to Soobin's dismay, more and more people started to arrive.
It shouldn't be a big event, Yeonjun assured and reassured him of that multiple times, so why is it that there's what feels like a million people crowding every possible space of that apartment, drinks in hands, bodies all dancing along to some loud music with unintelligible lyrics muffled by the beats and the bass? 
This is hell.
No, this is worse than hell. Soobin is 100% convinced that not even the devil himself would like to be up there right now. 
He has watched too many people disgustingly making out, too many bodies clashing together, and he's honestly worried that someone might fuck someone else's brains out on one of his friends' beds at some point tonight. These are the times when he's thankful he no longer lives with them. Imagine the horror of having strangers contaminating his bed with their own bodily fluids! That's something he'd never want to go through, something nobody should ever go through.
His multiple attempts to find a way out of there all failed because of you. All it took was a simple whiny "come on, I promise we'll leave soon, but please let's have fun just for a little longer" and some tender kisses across his dumb fucking face, and he was incapable of saying no. 
See, Soobin's a whipped man and he admits it. 
Well, not to you or his friends or anyone who might point that out, but he still admits it to himself, and that's what matters, right? He keeps trying to believe that maybe if he changes one thing or another about himself, you'll be able to see him in a different light.
You even managed to convince him to dance to a few songs before the place became unbearably jammed, that's how head over heels he is for you. However, you don't seem to realize that not even Choi Yeonjun, the "legend" himself, is capable of getting Soobin to dance to loud music in a crowded space, fighting against the redness on his face and the self-consciousness that makes him feel like everyone's staring — especially now that his hair is blond and he constantly feels like he's standing out.
You're living proof that Lucifer was once an angel, because you, too, look like one. While you were dancing carelessly, just having fun with your friends and letting go of all your worries, carrying the most beautiful smile on your face, he watched you with wonder, silently asking himself how is it possible that someone could shine as much as you do. 
But when you tell him you're gonna get him another drink and you'll be right back, and then you leave him by himself in a corner and disappear for ten whole minutes, he fears he might find another side of you if he tries to find where you are right now.
He still does, though, because he doesn't wanna be alone in the crowd, and his friends are all busy with other people, and he's starting to feel a little anxious, despite the alcohol in his blood.
As soon as he walks into the kitchen, he regrets his decision. Actually, all of the decisions he has made this week. Perhaps this whole year.
There you are, painfully close to some guy with purple hair and a handsome face, smiling like you're standing in front of the most beautiful masterpiece you've ever seen. The guy says something, and you laugh and push his shoulder affectionately, and your voice sounds so sweet when you reply with an "oh, shut up!" that it actually makes Soobin feel sick. Is that why you've been gone for so long? Were you distracted trying to find someone who could keep you entertained? Is he that boring? Why did you insist on dragging him to this party, then? You could've just gone by yourself and you wouldn't be stuck with him right now.
But well, you've managed to get him to drink something earlier, therefore he's not entirely sober, and that's probably what gives him enough courage to put on a pretty smile and come up to you after you laugh again while touching the man's shoulder for a second (and unnecessary) time.
It's all just a play, right? He's just playing his part.
"Hey, baby." He slings an arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you closer and kissing your temple.
The other guy's smile becomes a little awkward as his eyes scan Soobin's large, tall figure. Your fake boyfriend might not be the type of guy who would beat someone up, but that random dude doesn't really give off the vibe of someone who would throw hands because of a girl who's already taken either, so he doesn't think he'll get into any trouble if he stands his ground.
"Baby?" Minho echoes, clearly lost, and redirects his gaze to you. "Didn't know you had a boyfriend, Y/N."
"Oh," you sound a little awkward at first, but you end up smiling. "Yeah, this is Choi Soobin, my boyfriend. He's best friends with Yeonjun and Beomgyu, the guys throwing this party!" Your arms go around his waist, keeping him close to make sure you actually look like a couple.
"Hey. I'm Lee Minho, nice to meet ya," the purple-haired guy says, offering his hand, and Soobin shakes it as firmly as possible, as if to demonstrate he's not as weak as he might look — spoiler: he actually is.
"Right back at you."
"So, um, I should get back to my friends now. See you guys around, though!" Minho waves briefly and leaves the kitchen at the first opportunity.
The second you get to be alone with Soobin, you roll your eyes at him and slap his arm.
"What the fuck was that about?"
"I should be the one asking you that question," he counters, letting go of you as you do the same. "Are you out of your mind? Flirting with someone else at my best friends' party? Can't you wait for just a little longer and do that next week?"
"What?" You raise your eyebrows in surprise. "I wasn't flirting!"
"Oh, yeah, you definitely weren't. Oh, Minho, you're so hot and funny and I wish I could leave this place with you, but unfortunately I still have to pretend I have a boyfriend!" He mocks your voice and shows a fake smile to go with it, gesturing his hand in a pseudo-cutesy way in an attempt to represent the way you seemed to be behaving before he showed up.
You stare at him through narrowed eyes, pressing your lips in a thin line for a moment. "Are you drunk or are you jealous right now, Choi Soobin?" 
It's his turn to scoff at your accusation, convinced that his demeanor wouldn't be enough to make you come to that conclusion.
"I'm not drunk, I didn't even drink that much. And we're not a real thing, I don't care who you kiss or wanna hook up with," he sounds a little more passive-aggressive than he'd like. However, he wouldn't want anyone to come into the kitchen and hear him saying that, so that's why he's doing his best to keep his voice at a whisper level. "But I've been forced into this fake relationship for long enough to have the right to prefer not to be tagged as the guy whose girl cheated on him. Again. So if you could j–"
While he's trapped in his little angry lecture, your eyes peek behind him for a brief moment, and in the next second you're cutting him off, pulling him by the shirt and kissing his lips hurriedly. His body responds immediately, instinctively pushing you against the refrigerator and gripping your waist as he leans down to kiss you back. He's sure you can feel his anger in the way his lips move against yours, and your mouth tastes just like the last drink you shared with him, and he hates how much he likes that.
The little moment doesn't last too more than mere seconds, though, because you're soon interrupted by the sound of Taehyun clearing his throat and Sunoo snickering.
Soobin pulls away, but not too much. He's panting slightly, his eyes are fixed on yours, and he can feel his face heating up. You lean in to steal another peck and then a smirk shows up on your lips, which only makes matters worse.
"Dude, if you need a bedroom you can use the guest one. It used to be yours, anyway," he hears Beomgyu say, which is great, because that means there are at least three people behind him right now. "Just don't contaminate my kitchen, please."
Your fake boyfriend forces out a chuckle, but lets go of your body and then shakes his head. 
See, the problem with all of this is not that he got caught kissing you, but rather the fact that you only kissed him because there were other people coming into the kitchen. He stupidly thought that maybe, just maybe, you actually wanted to kiss him, but in reality you were just trying to shut him up to make sure no one else would hear him going off about how you were clearly all over Minho just a few moments ago.
It's a blow to his face, a reminder that he's nothing but a stupid idiot, and that he should get over the desire of ever being anything to you.
And it's fine. It is. He'll be happy to be your friend! He knows you're a good friend to keep around, and he also knows you don't owe him anything, so he's not gonna be one of those guys who go around whining about being "friendzoned". He just needs to deal with the frustration of his unreciprocated feelings first.
"I was just kissing her goodbye." His eyes drop to your lips, unable to keep eye contact for too long. "I'm kinda tired, I'm going home."
"Didn't look like a goodbye kiss to me, but whatever you say." Beomgyu shrugs. "I need something from the fridge though, so can you maybe, I don't know, move the fuck away from there?"
After taking a deep breath, Soobin kisses your forehead and steps away from you.
"Have fun, baby," he tells you softly before turning around to leave. "You guys too. I'll see you tomorrow, probably."
Taehyun's suspicious gaze falls on him, but the youngest doesn't say anything. Instead, he just wishes Soobin a good night and keeps on watching.
"Wait." You reach for his arm to stop him from moving. "I'll go with you. Sunoo's probably gonna need the apartment for himself and I'll have nowhere to sleep. Can I just crash at yours tonight?"
Your roommate's face twists in utter confusion when he looks at you, but after you raise your eyebrows and gesture (not so) subtly at him, he just sighs and nods.
"Yeah, well, if everything works out I'm, uh, not leaving this place alone, so…" Sunoo trails off in an attempt to follow your blatant lie, though he's clearly holding back a smirk — while Beomgyu just watches the whole scene unfold, not understanding a single thing, and Taehyun's eyes remain focused on Soobin's figure.
The oldest has to force himself not to roll his eyes at this whole clownery, but a deep sigh still escapes from him.
"Sure. Come on, baby." He holds your hand and bows to the others.
"Tell Yeonjun the party's great! Good job, both of you. Sorry for leaving so early," you say to Beomgyu before saying your goodbyes to him and the others, and then you follow Soobin on his way out.
As soon as you're outside, he lets go of your hand and crosses his arms, not sparing a single look in your direction. You try to get his attention, but he refuses to respond, feeling too broody to engage in whatever conversation you intend to have.
It's only when both of you are in the backseat of a cab that he opens his mouth again.
"Why did you do that?"
"Did what?" You play dumb, observing him carefully. 
He can't read your thoughts, but he's still pissed about your demeanor.
"All of that. You lied. Everyone there knows you were lying and you had no reason to come along with me, but you put me on the spot. I had to say yes or else I'd look like a shitty boyfriend," he explains, doing his best to keep his voice low. 
"Should've said no, then," you shrug, "we could use that for our little show next week."
He scoffs out of frustration and runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. He really must look like a clown right now.
You lean closer to him, as if to analyze his face, showing a pout that makes his blood boil. Why do you have to look so adorable at all fucking times? He's trying to stay mad at you. You left him all alone in the middle of too many people just to flirt with someone else, then you kissed him just to shut him up, now you wanna pout and act like you don't know what's going on?
Maybe he deserves that. Maybe that's the universe teaching him not to be so stupid. He shouldn't be falling for someone like you, he knows it would never work out, he knows you'll never see him the same way he sees you, he knows all of this is pointless. You'll be breaking up in a week anyway, as you keep making a point of reminding him, so why is he even wasting his time trying to adjust himself to please you? He's clearly not your type. He should let it go. He should let you go.
"Why are you so mad tonight? Come on, you were having fun like twenty minutes ago," you remind him, poking his waist.
"I'm not mad," he counters, pushing your hand away, so you laugh quietly. 
"But you are! It's hot, though, so it's fine, keep it going." You cup his face and kiss his cheek, and that's enough to make him flustered, so he lets out a huff of air and looks out the window with his arms folded. "Oh, come on, are you seriously gonna keep up the attitude?"
"I'm just tired, Y/N. Can I just be quiet for a moment?"
"Okay, baby. Be quiet then." You raise your index finger to your mouth, clearly holding back a smile. "Shh, I won't say a word. Grumpy baby is grumpy," you whisper and lay your head on his shoulder.
He immediately moves it in a subtle attempt to push you away yet again, and thankfully you get the message, so you just groan and move away from him, also crossing your arms.
Needless to say, the silence that sits between the two of you for the rest of the ride is far from comfortable, but neither of you makes any effort to try and change that.
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"Here," he opens the door and gestures for you to get in, "happy?"
"Yeah, I'm glowing. Wouldn't wanna be anywhere other than here, in the sweet company of such a lovely being as yourself," you poke fun at his obvious lack of humor as you step into his apartment and start to take your shoes off. 
He rolls his eyes and does the same as you as soon as he closes the door, wishing for nothing but some peace. While bending to take off his shoes, he nearly loses his balance, but his hand quickly finds the wall to keep him steady.
"Why are you even here, Y/N?" He doesn't mean to sound so dry, it just happens naturally when he's feeling overwhelmed and doesn't know how to deal with it. It doesn't help that he's still a little lightheaded.
The whole thing was a disaster and he deeply regrets even saying yes to the idea of going to that party in the first place. He can still taste the bitterness in his mouth just from seeing you act all flirty with that guy, and all he wants is to forget the past couple of hours. Maybe the past four months. His life was much easier before you came crashing his walls down.
"Because you're mad at me for some reason, and I'm not gonna have you giving me the cold shoulder for days again. We already did that once and that was more than enough," you explain, making him laugh bitterly.
"For some reason? Are you for real?" He scoffs. He can't believe it. Are you really that dense? Do you actually not see what could've happened if someone had caught you in the act? All jealousy aside, it was a risky move on your part. And now he's stuck here with you, because if he sends you back home, Sunoo's gonna be suspicious of it. "Yeah, okay, whatever. I'll make the bed for you and we can just forget everything. Okay? Great." He turns on his heels and tries to walk away, but you grab his wrist and force him to stay right there, in the small space at the entrance.
"Soobin, come on. You're not like this. Talk to me."
He groans, staring at the hand that's holding him in place as if it could contaminate him with something dangerous. He doesn't wanna do this right now, because he knows he's not sober enough — he's in this annoying in-between stage where he's not drunk, so he's kind of conscious of his actions, but he's also not completely in his right mind —, which means he's bound to say something he will regret, and he doesn't wanna deal with the consequences of anything tomorrow. 
"Hey," you insist softly, taking a step closer to him, "please." His eyes focus on your face, a frown knitting his eyebrows together. You're so fucking frustrating. "You said you weren't mad in the cab, and now you agreed that you are, and I don't know what happened. What's going on?"
"You know damn well why I'm mad, I've already told you." He shakes his wrist out of your grasp. "You left me all alone to go flirt with some other guy at my best friends' place. What more do you wanna hear?"
"I wasn't flirting."
"You were."
"I seriously wasn't!" Why do you look like you're about to laugh? Is any of this funny to you? Is his existence a joke now?
"You clearly were all over that dude, but that's not the goddamn point," he cuts off the back-and-forth, because he knows the two of you could keep it going for hours. "It's not the fact that you were flirting–" 
"I wasn't."
"– it's the fact that you were doing it in a place where you're supposed to be my girlfriend." What else could he say without giving away the fact that he is, indeed, pissed off because you were flirting with someone who wasn't him? More than that, you've never even tried to flirt with him! Not for real, at least, just as a stupid joke. Is he that unlikeable? Is he that much of a clown in your eyes? "I know we only have a few days left, but you know about my past. I don't want everyone to go around saying I'm the guy every girl cheats on just because I'm so fucking boring–"
"You're not boring."
"– that no one would want to stay with me. And more than that, what do you think would happen if Beomgyu caught you doing that at his party? After he was the one who busted Jiwon, who also happened to be a close friend of his? He'd be mad at you, and he'd be destroyed by that, because he actually cares a lot about you, and he trusts you. Like honestly, if you wanna go and make me look like the most unlovable fucking loser out there, sure–"
"I don't."
"– go ahead and do it. Be my guest. But please don't mess with my friends. This fucking idiot is a lot more sensitive than he lets on, so–"
"Soobin," you grab his hands unexpectedly, making him shut up and look at you, "stop. You're honestly using more words than you would in a whole week right now. I mean, it looks kinda hot, I gotta admit, but I'm worried your head might explode," you try to joke, but his only reaction is to roll his eyes, so you sigh in defeat. "Okay, fine. Please don't say that. I don't wanna upset Beomgyu. And I wouldn't do anything to upset you, either."
Ha, now that's ironic, isn't it? Very rich, coming from you. Hilarious.
"You literally kissed me just to shut me up," he points out.
You furrow your eyebrows and blink a few times before responding.
"Are you upset that I kissed you? Is that the problem?" Your hands still hold his own in place, and he just stares at you in disbelief for a moment. Why would he be mad that you kissed him? That's not the problem there. The problem is what led you to do that. He just said it!
"Just forget it."
"You grabbed my waist and kissed me back, though," you keep going, stopping him once again from leaving when he tries to turn around for a second time. "Baby…" Your hands carefully bring him closer, and he hates how pretty you look under the single light that illuminates the entrance while you're being so mean to his heart.
"Don't call me that," he protests and you twist your lips.
"Hm… Okay, Mr. Grumpy." Your eyes focus on his, captivating him in a way that makes it impossible for him to get away from you. "What's the matter, then? Do you think I kissed you just because I wanted to cut you off and nothing else? Is that why you're mad?"
"Yes," the word comes out without his consent, making him curse himself mentally. What the fuck, brain? 
The tiny smile painted on your mouth as realization seems to dawn on you is the cruelest thing he has ever seen, and when your right hand cups his face and your thumb traces a line under his bottom lip, he feels like he might not have enough strength to fight against whatever you're trying to do right now.
"You have the prettiest lips I've ever seen," your tone is a lot softer now, as opposed to your intense gaze that diverts between his eyes and his mouth. "Did you know that? I've kissed so many lips, but somehow you still got the prettiest ones. Sometimes I wonder how they're even real."
Why is God testing him now?
"We should just get ready for bed, we can have this conversation tomorrow. It's late and you're drunk, and you need to sleep," he finds the last drop of common sense to say, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest, but you shake your head slightly.
"I'm not drunk."
"You're not sober either," he counters. 
You giggle and reach up to kiss his face, and he's convinced that if Satan really exists, the guy sent you to Earth specifically to tempt him. 
"Come on, baby. No, sorry, not baby. Mr. Grumpy." You pout. "Didn't you wanna keep kissing me at the party?"
"Y/N, for real, whatever you're trying to do right now, stop. You're gonna regret this in the morning."
"I won't. Do you realize how good you look tonight?" You leave another peck on his face, now on his other cheek. "I've… been wanting to kiss you all night. But– not like the little kisses you give me in front of our friends, no. From the moment we picked you up, I just wanted to push you against a wall and–"
"Stop." Fuck, you're really getting him worked up with just a few words. "You know this is wrong."
"Why would it be wrong?" You sound so genuinely confused it actually pains him.
"You're my friend."
"You're my boyfriend." One more gentle kiss is planted on his face, so close to his lips this time that he can feel his stomach twisting, so he closes his eyes and tries to fight it.
"I'm your fake boyfriend, and only for another week. After that–"
"After that, we break up and I won't see you for a while," you supply. "But that's why we should enjoy it while it lasts. We deserve it, don't you think?" You gently rub the tip of your nose on his cheek and run your fingers down his chest, and at this point he's not sure how his heart hasn't blown up yet. "Can you… just look at me? Just for a moment?"
Taking a deep breath, he allows his gaze to meet yours when you pull back. It's hard to keep his eyes trained on you, but he makes an effort to do so.
"I need you to be honest, can you do that for me?" You ask quietly while staring at him with your big doe eyes, making him forget he's supposed to be mad at you — or at least stop you from doing what you're doing — so he just nods. "Don't think about me, or the party, or the consequences right now… I wanna know what you want. If you want me to stop, just say so and I'll leave you alone, I promise. But if you don't," your noses touch and, once again, his eyes close instinctively at the proximity and the subtle change in your tone, "then I'd like it if you kissed me the way you did that day in your ki–"
Before you finish your sentence in a whisper, the fire burning his intoxicated soul has already taken over his body, so he grabs your waist and presses his lips against yours. He pushes you against the wall behind you, and when you groan softly at the impact, he knows there's no coming back from this one.
Unlike the times he's kissed you in front of other people, and unlike the delicate tone you were using on him, there's no room for sweetness or softness right now. Your lips are just as hungry as his, as if both of you have craved each other for way too long to act like anything but desperate teenagers. Reasonably enough, it only takes a few minutes for his tongue to come into play at the first opportunity he gets, deepening the kiss into something even more heated. Your hands are all over each other's bodies, grabbing, touching, pulling, feeling whatever both of you can reach, hastily taking whatever you can take from that moment.
He knows he shouldn't do this, but any sign of regret that could show up in his brain is clouded by the taste of alcohol in your mouth, the scent of your perfume, and the touch of your fingers when they find their place among the roots of his hair just to pull at them.
When he presses his right hand against the cold wall beside your head to keep some balance, he feels you holding the left one and guiding it over your body, encouraging him to explore your curves more bravely. He could probably die right now, judging by how fast his heart is beating, but he still focuses on simply feeling you.
Your teeth tug at his lower lip, and then your lips escape from his mouth just to find their way down to his jawline, leaving him to try and catch a breath as his chest rises and falls rapidly.
His eyes don't open, though, and when your kisses trail down to his neck, a soft gasp leaves his lips.
"Y/N…" His voice isn't much louder than a whisper.
"Hm?" You're still kissing and nibbling at his skin, your other hand now sneaking under his shirt to touch his stomach and send shivers running down his body.
"We shouldn't do this," he tries to fish for some last drop of sanity in his mind, but God, is it hard when you giggle against his skin and your nails run down his stomach so gently it leaves him wishing for more. "We sh– fuck, we should stop."
"You told me you'd be honest," you mumble, letting go of the hand you were guiding, but he doesn't stop ghosting it over your body and that's more than enough to make you smirk. Your lips find his mouth once again just to give him a quick peck, and the sight of you as breathless as he is could probably drive him insane. "Do you want to stop?"
His chest rises and falls in his attempt to bring his breathing down to a regular pace, he tries to fix his eyes on yours, but your red lips look far more tempting now. He wonders if you've left any lipstick stains on his skin, and if the teasing on his neck would become a hickey later. He hopes the answer is yes. He wants to feel like he's yours, even if it doesn't last long.
"Soobin," his name has never sounded so beautiful to his own ears, "stop fighting. We can stop whenever you want, but just… Just do what you wanna do right now. Please," you murmur. "I haven't touched anyone in months and I'm… dying to find out what your hands feel like when they're on me, what you look like when I turn you into a mess." You steal another quick kiss and take his hands on yours, once again guiding him through your body. "We can forget about this in the morning," you whisper against his lips. "But right now I wanna feel you. I need to feel you."
And, well, now the big problem is that there are way too many problems there.
He wants you, he feels it, and he knows it's kind of late to try and deny it when your bodies are so close that you can probably feel it too. On the other hand, he knows this is just you being sex-deprived for months when you used to get whoever you wanted, whenever you wanted. Is he willing to let you use him like that? Should he use you like that? Neither of you is sober. Besides, he's not that experienced. What if it's disappointing for you? And what if–
"Baby, stop overthinking," you whine, leaning to brush your lips over his neck again. You nibble at his skin and soothe it with your tongue, and while you encourage him to feel your body under his touch, he completely gives up on the idea of acting like a decent man. "Let me touch you… Please."
"God," that's the only thing he manages to say as the shivers move up his spine. You're gonna kill me, he thinks.
"I promise I'll be good to you. I'll teach you how to feel good." Your hands go back to his body, feeling him up and down, teasing him.
Fuck it. It's already gonna be awkward on the next day anyway, so he might as well go all in before it all burns to ashes. He flips the switch and lets his inner desires take over his actions. He might not be the most experienced person you've been with, but he's still a quick learner, and he's sure you're a good teacher, so what could go wrong?
"Fine," he mutters, letting go of you just to get rid of your shirt, and when you giggle one more time, he mirrors what you were just doing a moment ago by kissing your neck — and maybe accidentally leaving a small lovebite on your soft skin — and your collarbones, giving you the start on what's probably gonna be a long night.
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