#just the facial features make it so unsettling

[pollyanna-nana]

Imagine you’re Delgal. Imagine you were raised from birth alongside the court jester. You do everything together. You look up to him, being so much older. He seems wise and responsible, and always encouraging you and caring for you, more than your own busy parents are able to. In every sense of the word, he is your brother, despite how different you look and the distance of your station. The people around you tell you that he is an elf, the tone of their voice implying that’s something scary or even dangerous. But you disagree. That’s Thistle, your big brother.

But… as you age, things become confusing. You get taller, smarter, stronger, and Thistle is there for you through it all. Only… he never seems to change. In your entire journey to adulthood, he hardly seems to have aged a few years, if that. It’s amusing when you first grow taller than him, then grow facial hair, while Thistle’s short stature and youthful face remains the same. Still, you love him, love his music and his wit and even the bold-faced honesty that gets him in trouble if you’re not around to diffuse the situation. You wonder why such a person has been relegated to the inglorious job of jester, and your father tells you very simply that the magic elves wield is too powerful and dangerous to belong to any other position. But you think that’s nonsense, you’ve trusted Thistle from the day you were born and would do so until the day you die.

It isn’t until what should’ve been the happiest day of your life that you truly start to understand just how different Thistle is from you. Kneeling over your father’s cooling corpse, you take in the elf’s panicked face. He’s so young, so unchanged, and in that moment he seems nearly immortal to you. You’ve heard the stories of elf magic, how their spells could be used to heal wounds and raise the dead, but Thistle can’t do any of that. He hasn’t been allowed to. There’s nothing that either of you can do but watch your father slowly die in front of you.

You never want this to happen again, not when there’s something that can stop it. You make Thistle the court sorcerer, even as your advisors warn against it. But you’re the king, goddamn it, and you trust him. But more than that, you want what he can give to you. A power greater than any tallman could achieve. You become busier and busier, only checking up occasionally on his studies. He’s become incredibly proficient in a short amount of time, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Enemies knock on your door, famine chokes the population, and worst of all your beloved son has fallen ill. It’s just like the day of your wedding, but this time, you have something that can defy that fate. Thistle.

But still, it’s not enough. It seems that even elf magic has its limits, and you can’t help but become angry with him. He reacts like a scorned child— is a scorned child, as you’ve come to realize— and you apologize. But he tells you he has something secret to show you, something he’s been searching for, researching for these past few years. The idea unsettles you, but you’ve become desperate, and you can see that he has, too. So you follow him into the dungeon, watch him smash the statue of your kingdom’s guardian and pull the book from the rubble that would decide your and your people’s fate.

Your son is healed, your enemies repelled, and your people fed and taken care of. You’re happy, and so Thistle is, too. You recognize, vaguely, that despite this achievement the familial bonds between the two of you have never been thinner. But you don’t dwell on it. He did what you needed him to do, and now you no longer had to fear the indignity of death or strife.

But of course, things do not remain sweet forever. Thistle has only grown more attached to you, more loyal, and his behavior has become erratic and strange. He keeps you all cooped up in the dungeon, insisting that the outside world is too dangerous. There’s a hardness to his still-youthful features that you never saw throughout all those years growing up alongside him. Slowly but surely the person in your memory is replaced by something frightening, almost repulsive, after he strips your own son’s soul from his body. He seems so unaffected by it all, so… inhuman.

Eventually he decides to give you what you said you wanted all those years ago: to no longer fear death. To become immortal. But it is not what you had hoped for— every day seems to drag into infinity, with joy and mirth seeping rapidly from the unsettled townsfolk as decades, then centuries pass. Thistle has become entirely unapproachable, spending all his time fortifying the dungeon and watching obsessively for any signs of traitors that might challenge the throne. You feel hopeless in it all. No matter how you beg, he never seems to hear you. His power is overwhelming and you fear how he might react to more direct commands. The guilt is intense… you know you pushed him into this, pushed him to find a way to achieve everlasting peace at any cost. But this cost is too much. How could he not see that?

1000 years. 1000 years of this torture, and the population of your kingdom has dwindled to almost nothing. In your dreams you see the vision of a golden lion in chains, its wings pinned as it pleads with you to save it. To save your kingdom, to put the remaining souls to rest. You know what needs to be done, it’s told you the best way. You tell the mad mage that you wish to have dinner together with the whole ‘family’— just like the olden days— and the way his face lights up is almost enough to make you reconsider. Almost.

It was a lie, of course. While he’s distracted you take your son’s empty body, making your way to the surface as fast as your legs can carry you. You know what’s about to happen. You’ll become nothing but dust, but you’ll be free. And with any luck, soon everyone else will be, too. Breaching the surface you get the first rays of sun on your face in a millennium, take your last breaths of fresh air as you tell the story that will free your kingdom.

As you crumble away to nothing, a last thought enters your mind. Perhaps they were all right. Perhaps it was a mistake to trust an elf.

#polly speaks #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #thistle dungeon meshi #Delgal #dungeon meta #thistle posting #anyway. how we doin #I think Delgal’s so interesting as a character bc I kind of hate him but also have no idea how to feel abt him #so. potential character thought study

[minarisplaything]

Daughter's of Ms. Kim (ft. Aespa Winter)

pairing: Winter x Male Reader rating: Explicit word count: 2.8k summary: After a pool boy's rendevous with Karina, he's confronted by her sister, Winter who is eager to prove herself. tags: pool sex A/N: this is part of a series, if you'd like to read chapter one on AO3 you can find it here. there isn't really any smut in it so i didn't post it here but it sets up the series. or just feel free to read on and wing it. either way enjoy!

“Ah…! Ah…!” 

High pitched moans were making their way into the hallway as a result of your actions. More specifically, of you railing into one of Ms. Kim’s daughters. The same daughter you had lusted over prior to this moment. The same daughter who apparently, had lusted over you as well. At least judging by how wet she had been when she first spread her legs for you. 

At first you had been worried about one of her sisters, or even Ms. Kim herself, walking in on the pair of you but the more vocal Jimin got, the more you found that you didn’t care. If she was giving it her all, then you would too. Besides, while losing your job for leering had been an embarrassing and humiliating thought; losing your job for this was worth it. 

“Jimin…fuck…”

You groaned, feeling her pussy tighten around your rod. You had thought the initial stretch had been heavenly but then you found a lack of description for the feeling of her clenching around you as you pumped inside her with a steady ready. What went beyond heavenly? And then there was that look she gave you when she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes pleading with you for more. 

It was a plea you were more than willing to fulfill. 

You didn’t know if this was a one off exchange or not. If you’d ever get to experience the feeling of Jimin’s pussy trying to milk you for every drop again. With that in mind you had to make sure to give her your all this time. If nothing else, it’d leave a lasting impression on her memory.

“Jimin…”

You slowly came back to the present day, the replay of that day still going vividly in your mind. You were grateful for the pool that Ms. Kim had allowed you to use today after you had finished. It meant you could have a raging hard-on under the water without worrying about anyone seeing it. Not that there had been anyone in the yard when you had jumped in to begin with. Your solitude was the reason you had allowed yourself to close your eyes and recall those memories.

“...”

With a sigh you let your shoulders sag. You still didn’t know if you’d ever get that chance again. The next day, Jimin had acted as she always did and you hadn’t had the nerve to bring the topic up on your own. You simply followed her lead and pretended like nothing had happened. Now you felt like you were at a crossroads. Maybe if you just got a chance to talk to her privately…

The sound of water moving caused your eyes to peak up. When you saw someone floating in the water five feet from you, you immediately stood straighter. Then, remembering your erection, immediately sunk back into the water.

“Minjeong…How long have you been there?”

Another one of Ms. Kim’s daughters, she was known for being aloof and quiet. Often times it seemed like she was in her on world whenever you saw her around the house. On more than a few occasions you had caught her simply…staring at you like she was now. It was a little unsettling but, well, she was gorgeous. Her pointed cat-like facial features gave her a striking visual appearance that in a lot of ways only added to the mystery of her. The only time you had talked with her was when you started the conversation. And even then she only gave you short responses.

“...Minjeong?”

Maybe she didn’t know you were given permission to be in the pool and was giving you a silent judgement. Or maybe she had caught wind of what you were hiding beneath the water. In all your speculation, you hadn’t considered what she actually said next.

“Did you fuck Jimin?”

If you had water in your mouth you would have spit it out then and there. Instead you choked on your saliva for a moment, hand going to your throat as you tried to regain your composure. Where the hell did that come from?! More importantly if she was asking you that meant Jimin hadn’t told her one way or another. Not yet at least.

“W-what? Why do you ask that?”

She was silent in response, her chin tilting downward for a moment as her eyes avoided yours. Was she being shy? After such a bold declaration?! Honestly, you hadn’t spent enough time around Minjeong to know her personality. It never crossed your mind that she was shy or had a crush on you. You had always just thought she was, well, strange. Your attention had been so focused on Jimin this summer that you likely would have never noticed even if she was overt about it. Now here she was bluntly asking you if you slept with her sister. Truth, be told, you didn’t know what to make of it but the thought of lying made you feel guilty.

Of course, it didn’t help that you were still sporting an erection from your prior thoughts. 

“I, uh,” you paused trying to word it. “Yes. We slept together. It was just a one-time thing though.” 

You tried and failed to hide the disappointment in your tone at that admission. No point in dwelling on idle fantasies. 

Minjeong gave you a side glance at your confession, a hint of crimson coloring her pale cheeks. It wasn’t clear whether it was arousal or embarassment but suddenly you found yourself paying more attention to her, wondering what exactly was going on in her head. Admittedly, she was a little cuter when she seemed to be coy rather than staring at you from across any given room without saying a word.

“What was it like?”

”E-excuse me?”

Rather than repeat herself or explain what she meant, Minjeong glided through the water towards you. As she drew closer you suddenly remembered that you were still sporting a rather sizeable erection and drifted backwards, only for your back to bump into the edge of the pool. Despite the look of dread that was surely on your face, she continued her advance unbothered right until she was face to face with you. Her head craning up to look at you. You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to do next.

“Minjeong…?” 

Wordlessly she looked down, barely making out what was standing at attention beneath the ripples of the pool. You had never known Minjeong to be described as bold in your time working for Ms. Kim but that was the only way to label her actions when she reached beneath the water and took ahold of your cock. Your body jolted suddenly, even with the contact being through your swimming trunks. For her part, Minjeong seemed to be lost in her own world. She was staring down, mouth slightly agape as if utterly fascinated by what was currently in her hand. Despite it being a confusing and bizarre experience, that didn’t stop your cock from throbbing any less in her grasp.

“It’s bigger than I thought it’d be…” she muttered, more to herself than you.

“Thanks…? I think?” 

Was that a compliment? Wait – she’s thought about how big your cock was before?! This was quickly spiraling into something you had no idea how to react to. You had never looked at Minjeong in this kind of light before but it was increasingly hard not to when her hand was wrapped around your cock. It was also increasingly hard to think with a clear head. Especially, when she started to move her hand experimentally along your shaft.

“M-minjeong, someone could walk out,” you started weakly.

You gave a glance over to the patio. Currently, the only other person outside was Yizhuo, who was currently sunbathing topless – another thing that caused your cock to twitch in Minjeong’s grasp. From what you could see it looked like she had headphones on and was completely oblivious as to what her sister was currently doing to you. If Minjeong had heard any word of your concern she didn’t show it. In fact, when you turned back to look at her she was even closer to you, her nose practically brushing against yours.

“If Jimin could handle it then I can handle it,” Minjeong stated. 

“I…” 

As much as your mind screamed at you that this was a bad idea, that if you got caught you’d lose your job, you found your resolve already weakened. Not only because of what her hand was currently doing to your cock, but because of what had already happened between yourself and Jimin. If you were going to get fired you might as well go two-for-two on reasons to get terminated, right?

Rather than answer her verbally, you leaned forward and closed the distance between your lips and hers. As your lips moved against hers you wondered if Winter was simply stunned that you had actually kissed her. Briefly you wondered if she had ever kissed anyone best. Wait, am I taking her first kiss? The thought should have made you feel guilty, or at the very least reconsider your chosen course of action. Instead it only caused your cock to throb in her grasp.

Finally, Minjeong began to respond to the kiss. It was slow at first, tentative even. Like she was exploring and analyzing it in her mind before she finally delved in. Her lips parted, her tongue pushing into your mouth experimentally. It was a completely different experience than what you had with Jimin, which you supposed was a good thing. Her lips were suprirsingly sweet and you wondered if she had placed lip balm on them before coming to you. 

Your tongue danced with hers and you deepened the kiss, the water making ripples around you. You didn’t know if Yizhuo was still unaware of what was unfolding but at that point you didn’t care. You had started this ( well, she had technically ) now you were going to see it through.

Her lithe body pressed flush against hers, one arm wrapping around her neck while the other continued to stroke your cock under the water. When she finally pulled back, she looked up at you with large eyes.

“I want it…”

“What do you want, Minjeong,” you prodded.

She briefly looked away, her cheeks tinging with a hue of red. Her stoic confidence seemed to have faltered. When she spoke it was in a low voice that you could barely hear. “...fuck….me…”

“What was that?” you couldn’t help yourself from teasing her a bit. “I couldn’t hear you.”

Finally, she looked back at you. Her eyes staring intensely at yours, “I want you to fuck me.”

Well, that didn’t leave any doubt did it?

“You want me to fuck you like I did Jimin?” you questioned, your voice lowering as you began to lift her up. You had never actually fooled around in a pool before and were relieved at how easy it was to pull her closer so her legs could wrap around you. You pulled her bikini bottoms to the side, positioning your cockhead at her entrance.

“Yes,” Minjeong said, sounding determined now. “That’s what I want.”

Fuck, there was just something alluring about the way she said that. You may have never pictured her this way before but hearing the usually reserved daughter of Ms. Kim speak such vulgar desires was the last straw you needed. You pushed forward and pulled her towards you, beginning to sheath your cock inside of her pussy. 

Fuck she was tight. 

Despite her arousal you struggled at first to fit your length inside her in it’s entirety. Minjeong said nothing but her body tightened around you as she bit her bottom lip. 

“If you want to take it all you have to relax,” you whispered into her ear, “It’ll feel so much better, I promise.”

“So full…” she mumbled.

“There’s still more to go but you have to relax,” then another idea popped into your head, “Jimin was able to take it all.“

Your words worked as expected. Minjeong took a shaky breath before you felt her body begin to relax in your arms. Her walls still gripped your cock tightly but you didn’t feel like her body was fighting against you anymore. Instead she was slowly accepting more and more of your length as you pushed deeper inside of her warm tunnel. The resistance you felt at first was now giving way to a pleasure that was sending your mind reeling.

“You feel so fucking tight, Minjeong…” you moaned softly.

She mewled softly in your ear in response. When you finally bottomed out inside of her, your bodies pressed flush against one another, you stayed like that for a moment. You still didn’t know if this was her first time or not but you felt the need to give her a moment to adjust to your size regardless. Even if Minjeong herself would never ask for it.

“Can you kiss me again?”

Her request caught you off guard. You looked at her for a long moment, realizing there was more to the quiet sister than met the eye. Rather than give her a yes or a no you leaned forward, capturing Minjeong’s lips in a tentative embrace. This time she didn’t take as long to respond to your kiss but still kept things slow and explorative. As your lips locked, she began to move on your cock.

Fucking in the pool was a first. Or any body of water for that matter. It was different then you expected, but the weightlessness of it meant that as she grew more accustom to your size, she could begin to move easier, her slow, rhythmic pace picking up slightly. At times you were worried about making too much noise, that Yizhuo might hear the splashing of your bodies as you speared her pussy over and over again, but she never seemed phased at all. Not that you were paying her much mind, your attention was focused solely on the woman currently riding you. 

“Does it feel as good as you imagined?” you questioned.

“Mhm,” Minjeong nodded her head. 

“You like stealing your sister’s fuck toy, huh?” your words grew more vulgar.

She nodded her head again, biting her bottom lip as she gripped your shoulders tightly. It was almost adorable the way she was so focused on the way your length was stretching her pussy that she couldn’t even manage a proper response. That wasn’t good enough. You had given in which meant you wanted to go all the way. You needed to see the usually quiet and reserved Minjeong come undone. Gripping her waist, you smoothly swapped places, pushing her back against the wall. You gripped the edge of the pool, using it as leverage to meet her movements with hard thrusts.

“I can’t hear you,” you teased.

Immediately you were greeted with moans of pleasure as her head fell to your shoulder. That was much better. Your hips snapped roughly, shoving your cock inside of her as her sex quivered around you; squeezing around your length each time you filled her hole. The usually quiet Minjeong had become a mess of sounds as you fucked her against the edge of the pool

“Aaah~ ah~ mmh~” her fingers dug into your back, any sense of forming a sentence completely gone from her.

You didn’t care if Yizhuo noticed the excessive splashing created from your union at this point. Hell, Ms. Kim herself could walk out and you wouldn’t care. If Jimin walked out on the other hand…Your cock swelled inside of Minjeong at the thought. The image of Jimin watching you ravish her shamelessly as she cried out your name. Another image flashed through your mind, one of Jimin massaging your balls while Minjeong serviced your cock with her lips. 

As fantasies in your mind mixed with the pleasures of reality, you felt the body clinging to you begin to shudder. Minjeong let out a cry of pleasure as her orgasm tore through her body. Her walls tightened around you, seemingly intent on dragging you over the edge with her; impluring you to spill your seed inside of her.

“Fuck!” she swore.

It might’ve been the first time you had actually heard her swear, let alone that loudly. That fact triggered something inside of you. It had you gripping the ceramic edges of the pool for dear life with one hand while the other wrapped around her slender waist, burying your length to the hilt as your pleasure finally erupted with a roar. It was incredible, scintillating even. Honestly, your mind simply went blank for a long moment with no thoughts or concerns. Judging by the way Minjeong was currently slumped against yours, she was in a similar state of exhausted euphoria.

The only sound that reached your ears was the slow settling of water and the heavy pants of your mingled breaths until finally she spoke up.

“How did that compare to my sister?”

You could only let out a sound of disbelief as you floated in the water. There was something wrong with Minjeong and her competitive streak – or was it jealousy? Whatever the case a part of you was starting to like it. There was certainly no way you’d look at her the same after today.

#kpop smut #male reader #aespa smut #aespa imagines #winter smut #minjeong smut #minjeong x reader

[system-to-the-madness]

Scars Like Cobwebs on Your Face - Fushiguro Megumi x Reader

Pairing: Fushiguro Megumi x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 2 246 Warnings: SPOILER FOR UP TO CHAPTER 213, facial scars, mentions of past wounds and blood Summary: The first time, Megumi spots the scars on your face

Masterlist

It was the first warm day of spring, when Megumi noticed the fine scars on your face. The two of you were sitting outside at one of the tables underneath the blooming Sakura blossoms. The sun had gained its strength back in the last couple of days, and finally it was warm enough to sit outside. Megumi was glad he had recovered from the whole ordeal of last autumn and winter enough to spend the first real day of spring outside with you. Even though right now you were working on a project Gojō had given to the two of you.

Megumi wondered if his white-haired and cockier than ever teacher couldn’t have spared them this stupid project in the last week of their first year, especially since it had been less than a month since Megumi had woken up after the final battle in Shinjuku. But Gojō was annoying and had given them the task anyway.

The classroom felt strangely empty without Kugisaki there, but Yūji made up for it with being more energetic than ever. Much to Megumi’s surprise Yūji had even been the first one to finish his part for the group work, and since he had been sent on a small mission, this left Megumi and you to add the finishing touches. Not that Megumi was complaining about the time he got to spend with you. No, much on the contrary. He was very pleased to get some alone time with you, even though he would have preferred spending it by talking about almost anything other than homework.

A soft spring breeze was tucking at the cardigan you had wrapped around your shoulders, and absentmindedly you pulled it back into place, ignoring the strand of hair that had blown into your face and now clung to your cheek. Megumi wished he could reach over and brush it behind your ear, but his heart stuttered at the mere thought of it. Unthinkable to actually do it. But his eyes stayed glued to your face, watching as you leant closer over the paper, writing tiny signs neatly into the lines. 

The sunlight caught delicately on your lashes, making them glow, and the shadow of a few blossoms painted faint shadows on your skin. It was then that Megumi noticed the fine line that stretched from the side of your nose down to the corner of your mouth.

He blinked, surprised that he had never seen the scar before, and leant in a little closer; just a little so you wouldn’t notice while being focused on your course work. The scar was several shades lighter than your skin tone, and left and right of it, Megumi could even see the small puncture wounds where it had been stitched. His heart hurt at the thought that at one point you had been injured badly enough to having had to get stitches, especially in the face. He wondered when it had happened. During the culling game? He was fairly certain that you hadn’t had this scar last summer. He had spent enough time staring at you to know.

His eyes skipped further over your features, as if searching for any other imperfections he had not previously spotted, and stopped on another, short but equally fine line under your right eye. It was slightly discolored, barely noticeable even in the bright light of the afternoon sun, but now that Megumi really looked at you, he could just about make it out. Even though the wound had long healed, the proximity to your eyes unsettled him. How close you had been to losing your eye to whatever had caused that wound! Megumi’s eyes flickered over to your left side, almost as if to assure himself that your other eye was fine, had never been as close to losing sight as the right one.

Instead of comfort, he found another thin line under your eye, this one even closer to your lashes. And there, very faint but definitely there, were small scars on your eyelid. On your eyelid! Which god had looked out for you when you had been hurt that day, whenever that had been?

Megumi worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he kept studying the fine scars on your skin, when suddenly a thought popped into his head, that made him almost physically sick. Had he been the one who had caused these scars? Had that happened during the short battle you and Yūji had fought against Sukuna? Had Megumi’s own hands caused these scars that now spread over your face like thin cobwebs?

“You can ask, you know? I won’t be mad.”

The sound of your voice tore Megumi out of his thoughts. You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes, not turning your head to look at him. It was then, that Megumi realized just how close he had moved, his nose almost bumping your cheek. His breath caught in his throat, but instead of pulling away, he only tilted his head. The motion caused the distance between your faces to increase by a fraction, but you, instead of pulling away fully, turned your head just enough to be able to look at him better, immediately narrowing the gap again.

Megumi swallowed.

“Ask what,” he wondered, feigning innocence.

You rolled your eyes, before focusing back on him, your gaze tracking his as his eyes flickered back to the scars.

“Don’t play dumb Fushiguro. We both know you’re not.”

“I’m not sure I want to know the truth,” he answered, more honestly this time, the way your tongue darted out, wetting your lips not escaping his attention. He wondered what they tasted like.

“Just ask.”

“How did you get these-”

He didn’t finish the sentence, and instead reached up with his hand, brushing the fingertip of his index finger over the scar by your nose and then over the one underneath your left eye. Had your breath just hitched? He quickly pretended to cover the slight contact up by tucking the strand of hair out of your face where it had still clung to your cheek.

“Sukuna,” you answered, and Megumi felt his heart plummet. “He kicked me off that roof and straight through the window of an office building. I was able to catch the worst impact, but not the glass splinters.”

Megumi felt his throat close up. It had been him, who had injured him, his own hands had hurt you, caused you pain. How were you even able to stand looking at his face? He tried hard to get his breathing back in check, his hands tensing into fists involuntarily, nails digging into his palms painfully.

“Stop it,” you whispered, and Megumi wondered if you had leant even closer. Your warm breath fanned cover his skin comfortingly, your familiar scent filled his nose and calmed him down. “Stop. I know what’s going on in this head and I don’t like it.” Your warm hand came up to the side of his face, your thumb brushing over his cheeks softly, before it fell back into your lap. “I don’t like it. Not one bit. Megumi, it wasn’t you, who hurt me. And I don’t blame you.”

“But if I- if I had tried to-“

“Shut up.”

For the fraction of a second Megumi was tempted to answer with a stubborn ‘make me’ just to find out if you’d kiss him to shut him up, like in this one movie you had watched together the other weekend, you and him sitting somewhat closer than he usually would have deemed acceptable between friends. But to him you were not just a friend. And he was not ready for the feeling of disappointment that would settle in his chest if you didn’t kiss him to shut him up. But he didn’t have much more time to think about it, because after a short pause you continued talking.

“I don’t blame you. Nobody does. I’m just glad you’re back with me.”

His eyes widened slightly at your words. Not back with ‘us’, but back with ‘me’. His cheeks burnt up with a blush as you watched his reaction before you nudged your nose against his very softly as if you were scared to overstep a boundary. But you didn’t even have to move in to nudge him like this, that was how close the two of you had gravitated towards each other already.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Your voice was only a whisper, your lips already so close to his that he could literally feel them move around the words they formed.

“Do you want me to,” he asked back equally quiet, his heart beating hard in his chest.

“I’ve wanted you to kiss me since last summer, but thanks for noticing,” you teased, making him almost laugh.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “for making you wait.”

And with that he lent in the last fraction of an inch, eyes fluttering closed, pressing his lips to yours firmly.

He could feel the shiver than ran through you, how you shifted closer to him, one hand coming to rest on his knee beside you, the other reaching up to his neck. Cool fingertips ghosted over the baby hair on his nape twirled them for a moment before wrapping more tightly into his longer strands. A strange sensation of victory settled in Megumi’s heart as he, spurred on by your touch, found the courage to reach out too, settling his hands on your waist. He struggled to understand how he got lucky enough to find himself in this position, how he deserved to sit under cherry blossoms and kiss you. It hardly seemed possible that you returned his feelings, but your lips against his, your hand in his hair, the little shivers that ran through your body every time he shifted his palms against the rigid fabric of your uniform assured him of your feelings.

There were no words needed, and when your tongue nudged against his lips almost hesitantly, there were no words left in his head anyway. All his focus was on you, the rest of the world had stopped existing, as far as he cared. Whenever he peeked out from underneath his lashes, he could see your skin, your own lashes fluttering against your cheeks, resting on these fine scars he had only noticed today for the first time.

His nose was filled with the scent of your hair, his heart beating so loud in his ears that he struggled out make out the uneven, almost shaky breaths you took as you pressed closer to him. Your lips tasted sweet, like the iced tea the two of you had shared at the vending machine before coming here, and Megumi wondered if his lips tasted the same. Underneath his palms, he could feel the shifting of your muscles, your warmth seeping through the fabric. And suddenly it was all too much. Not that he could ever get enough of you, but his senses seemed to go into overdrive, and Megumi pulled away, leaning back while gasping for breath, his eyes widened.

“Megumi,” alarmed you pulled your hands away from where they had rested on his body, and immediately he missed your touch. “What’s wrong?”

A smile tucked at his lips then, one of these rare smiles, that you once had told him you liked seeing on him so much.

“Just- overwhelmed,” he admitted, and he watched you bite your lip, almost as if you were ashamed. Gods, now he knew what your lips felt like on his, what they tasted like. He wanted to taste them again.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, sitting back properly again from where you had shifted to be closer to him.

“I’m not,” Megumi shook his head. “So you don’t be it either. I just… I’ve gotta get used to it. If you want.”

You looked up at him again, your eyes shimmering with something Megumi had seen in your expression only a few times before. He hadn’t been able to put a word to it then, but he was now: love.

“Absolutely,” you nodded, a smile growing brighter on your lips.

Megumi was pretty sure his heart was about to give out with how frantically it was beating. He had liked you almost for a whole year, practically since the day you had showed up for the first class of the school year. You had had him wrapped around your little finger from the first day on, with how clever you were, how you handled his sarcasm and shot right back, with how you took no shit, dealt with Gojō and everything else really. And now that you knew of his feelings for you, you had not turned him down. How had he gotten so lucky?

“Can I kiss you again,” Megumi asked, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

When you nodded, he brought his hand up to your chin, cupping it softly, and leant in again, placing a soft, lingering kiss to your mouth. Nothing as deep as the first one, but just enough to catch another taste of the sweetness of your lips.

“I could get used to that,” you whispered, as Megumi pulled away from the short kiss to be able to look at you, his thumb ghosting absentmindedly over the scar between your nose and your lips.

He nodded in agreement and smiled again.

“That can be arranged,” he chuckled and leant in again.

@delzinrowe @hugesimp1234

#fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x y/n #fushiguro megumi x yn #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro x y/n #megumi fushiguro x yn #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #megumi x yn #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x you #fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro x yn #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x yn #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x yn #jjk x y/n #mad jjk

[myster-roca]

Desires and Deception: Full Undercover

"Your assignment: Assume the identity of a high-profile businessman and fitness guru with deep connections to the underworld elite.

Your objective: Infiltrate a high-stakes bodybuilding event where one of the underworld's most influential figures, deeply involved in a clandestine affair, is about to take center stage. A complete physical transformation is your only cover."

On the surface, his existence seems so different from mine. He's deeply entrenched in the world of luxury, surrounded by the glitter and glamour of the upper class.

I lead a life of shadows and secrecy, a chameleon in the backdrop of society. While he basks in the spotlight, I thrive in the darkness.

Yet, as I become more familiar with his life, I realize that beneath the facades, we're not so dissimilar. We both wear masks, albeit of different kinds.

He portrays an image of power and wealth, and I craft identities to delve into the hidden realms of espionage. We're both performers, navigating the stage of our own making, just on opposite sides of the curtain.

Within the covert operations division, our team constituted a rare breed, masters of disguise, each possessing an exceptional talent for the craft of metamorphosis.

We shared an unspoken bond born from the countless secrets we held and the trust we placed in one another.

The intricately crafted muscle suit lay before me like a silent partner in this clandestine masquerade. I'd done this countless times before, but the excitement and tension of the moment never ceased to grip me.

This moment brings a complex blend of emotions to my entire body.

There's the weight of responsibility, knowing that I must seamlessly become another person, thinking, speaking, and moving as they do.

But there's also the thrill of the challenge, the adrenaline rush that comes with immersing myself in a persona utterly distinct from my own.

As I slipped into the suit, the material stretched and molded to my physique. My hands found their way to the attached silicone gloves. The snug fit accentuated every contour, making me look more sculpted than ever.

My team of ingenious innovators had left no stone unturned to make the muscle suit as lifelike as humanly possible. Their unwavering dedication shone through in the meticulous attention to detail.

My pulse quickened with anticipation as the muscles subtly inflated, intensifying the illusion of strength and confidence.

With every stroke, the skilled hands erased my facial hair, and I could almost sense a new identity taking shape.

The skintone had been impeccably matched, with the paintwork skillfully blending the boundary between reality and artifice.

I marveled at their exceptional precision as they carefully placed the snow-white silicone prosthetic skin onto my scalp, deftly concealing the intricate details at the rear.

Each brushstroke they applied infused the blank canvas with a spectrum of shades and tones, gradually merging it with the flesh-colored muscle suit.

The cap clung to my scalp, obscuring any hint of my natural hair. Their unparalleled expertise accomplished an astounding feat, vanquishing visible seams and ensuring a flawless integration with the rest of the suit.

As I rose to my feet, I could feel the muscles discreetly swelling, enhancing my size and making me appear more imposing. Enthralled by this transformation, I locked my gaze onto the mirror, realizing that, except for my own face, the reflection before me resembled that of a complete stranger.

The next phase was even more unsettling. I couldn't help but feel vulnerable, yet excited, as I closed my eyes and immersed myself in embodying the fitness guru's charisma and unwavering drive for power.

Seated before the vanity, I felt the cool touch of silicone on my skin. With each prosthetic piece, I watched myself morph into the figure whose aura and allure I admired and now emulated.

My own features were vanishing, slowly replaced by the chiseled jawline, pronounced cheekbones, and the perfectly shaped nose.

Each adjustment, every little tweak, brought me closer to becoming the fitness influencer I needed to become.

The transformation has reached its halfway point, yet I can't shake the persistent unease that lingers within me. Something feels awry, lacking in authenticity.

This void echoes the emptiness I've felt in past impersonations. The team is well aware of this predicament, which motivated them to develop a new technology aimed at resolving the issue. Although they conducted numerous beta tests, this marks the first field trial.

I stood from my chair and began to don the silicone muscle pants, preparing myself for the next step.

The pants appeared remarkably sophisticated, quite different from the silicone muscle pants I had initially envisioned. Nevertheless, the team assured me that this unique design was intentional, tailored to fulfill its specific purpose.

As I settled into a sleek, state-of-the-art machine, they assured me that it would serve as the catalyst for the forthcoming comprehensive transformation. The team then delved into an explanation of the pants' fabric and the silicone prosthetic pieces they had attached, emphasizing their integration with nanites.

They elaborated on how these minuscule marvels were precisely programmed to discern the unique contours and characteristics of my body, thereby enabling the seamless fusion of the material with my own skin. This intricate process would ensure an astonishingly lifelike and untraceable metamorphosis.

The machine enclosed around my waist with a gentle yet firm embrace. I could feel its mechanisms hum to life as it began its work. A warm, viscous liquid began to flow from the machine's hidden nozzles, gently cascading down my legs and torso.

The sensation was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was as if I were being submerged in a pool of liquid silk. I watched, my heart racing, as the substance encased my legs and torso. It was as if the nanites and the liquid skin were in perfect harmony, dancing a choreography that was breathtaking to experience.

The machine released me, and I fell forward, landing on my hands and knees. The ground was cold and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the heat that surged within me. As I struggled to regain my footing, I realized that I was sweating, my skin tingling with life.

My skin glistened with sweat as the nanites engulfed my whole body. My senses were on fire as the second skin adapted to the shape of my own body, molding itself to me with an almost sentient understanding. I could feel the air against my skin as I breathed deeply, savoring the newfound sensations.

I stood on my feet, and a tidal wave of power surged through my veins—a breathtaking rush of unearthed strength that sent shivers of exhilaration cascading down my spine. I was utterly captivated by the profound transformation I had undergone.

It was as though this second skin had reshaped the core of my existence. It was no longer just a disguise; it had become a part of my own being.

Overwhelmed by curiosity and newfound confidence, I couldn't resist the urge to explore my transformed physique.

As I flexed my thighs, I could feel their utmost solidity, the sensation of unyielding strength resonating through my body. My legs, once unassuming and lean, now bore the weight of sculpted power.

Running my hands across my chest, I felt the hard contours beneath my fingers, swelling with a sense of pride. My pectoral muscles were now pronounced and firm. I couldn't resist running my fingers over the chiseled ridges of my new washboard abs.

With each movement, I admired the pronounced biceps and triceps, each muscle responding to my command. Flexing my forearms, the veins stood out like a roadmap of my uncovered power.

I had truly become the living embodiment of the role I was about to play.

With the transformation complete, I am reborn in the shadows, ready to dance into the abyss of intrigue and danger, playing my part in a game where trust is a currency of uncertainty, and the truth remains veiled forever.

To Be Continued . . .

#male body transformation #male bodysuit #body change #male transformation #male skin #male disguise #male body suit #male form #hot male

[polaroidcats]

Ugly crying & the marauders generation - a pseudo-scientific approach (my marauders crying PhD abstract)

Abstract

In recent days, there have been a variety of claims as to who the prettiest and ugliest crier in the marauders generation could be. This paper aims to address the recent surge in opinions on the matter, and categorize different approaches as well as add a new approach to the scientific examination of ugliness/prettiness when it comes to crying. I hope to provide readers with an overview of the current state of research and encourage all marauders scholars to add their own and I intend to make a contribution to the discourse by committing to the bit and writing a pseudo-academic paper about it instead of actually working on my thesis.

Introduction

In the following paper, the discourse about 5 marauders era characters will be examined in regards to their various levels of perceived ugliness whilst crying. Scholars who may ask why Peter [Pettigrew] is not included in this analysis are advised to refer to acclaimed marauders ugly crying scholar @lynxindisguise's (2023) original poll on the popular blogging website "tumblr.com" which did not include Peter, but rather two non-marauders characters named Lily and Regulus. This paper will follow that approach, since Peter is the nastiest skank bitch I have ever met, I do not trust him and he is a fugly slut. The characters included in this approach are as follows: James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Regulus Black.

Following the scientific criteria for ugly crying, as stated by lynxindisguise et. al (2023), the question of the ugliest crier can be answered by observing the crying person and assessing their ugly-levels on the following parameters: (1) unbecoming facial expressions, (2) facial swelling/blotching, (3) unsettling noises, (4) snot factor, (5) tear volume, (6) general loss of dignity, (7) glistening eyes/lashes, (8) Victorian heroine factor, (9) elegant tear-wiping, (10) post-cry glow (ibid).

Criteria (1)-(6) can be categorized as the ugly crying parameters whereas (7)-(10) are pretty crying parameters, creating a false binary between ugly and pretty crying, which may be problematised and addressed in another the paper. In contrast to lynxindisguise’s original 10 criteria to measure the aesthetics of crying, this paper proposes to add (11) explosiveness of cry as another ugly crying parameter, in order to get a more clear assessment of where on the ugly-pretty crying scale a character falls.

The ugly crying parameters

(1) Unbecoming facial expressions

James Potter is mentioned in this category by several marauders scholars: @jaylienpotter talks about his red face and ugly sobbing, @artbyace mentions his “scrunched up cry face” and @sectoren claimes “james (…) is that one handsome guy that when the waterworks get going becomes like. Cartoonishly ugly”, raising the question of upkeeping toxic masculinity in order to avoid having to witness more of James Potter’s crying “mug”.

Though James Potter features heavily in this category, another character who is also mentioned just as often is Remus Lupin: @kaaaaaaarf, @appreciatedmoron and @http-starboy all emphasise that Remus Lupin is the one with a red and blotchy face.

(2) facial swelling/blotching

While there is a definitive overlap between the categories of facial swelling/blotching, unbecoming facial expressions and snot factor, Sirius’ and Regulus’ victorian heroine complexions, which give them an advantage in the homonymous category, may be to their disadvantage in the “blotching” category. This will require further research by other scholars.

(3) unsettling noises

James Potter is mentioned in this category by Jaylienpotter (2023), claiming he not only hiccups when crying but also that “his cries are one of the most heartbreaking things you’ll ever hear” and similarly, artbyace states that “James loves and feels so loudly”, whereas “Sirius is silent”, both sentiments are reminiscent of znelda’s (2023) statements that James “was allowed to feel his emotions freely in a loving household” and “Sirius (…) [is] used to hide [his] feelings and [has] become stoic”.

With several other scholars, among them also @jamesunderwater (2023) raising the point that James may be the ugliest crier due to him being “the only one well adjusted enough to have access to his feelings” this raises the question of possibly introducing another category, maybe of emotional awareness/stability to be able to measure this parameter more efficiently, though emotional vulnerability may also just be a part of the unsettling noises parameter, suggesting that there is a correlation between noisiness and the existing environment being welcoming to and accepting of various expressions of emotions.

(4) snot factor

The most popular winner in the snot factor category seems to be Remus Lupin, with several scholars agreeing that his sobs are the dampest and snottiest out of all the candidates. kaaaaaaarf (2023) writes “he turnes all red and blochty and snot drips out of his nose (…) he cant (sic) not cry with his mouth open as well so there is a lot of spit”, and appreciatedmoron (2023) agrees with kaaaaaaarf on this.

It only seems right to me to include spit in the snot category as well, seeing as they’re both crying-related bodily fluids that add to the ugly-cry factor. http-starboy (2023) also mentions snot in regards to Remus Lupin, which compared to both their comments in (1) opens up the question of how unbecoming facial expressions, more particularly redness of the face and snot factor may be related, as several authors seem to write about both specifically in relation to each other. Whether this is just pure coincidence or not would need further research, for which we currently do not have enough funding. This is only one of the many research gaps in the relatively new field of marauder’s ugly crying studies, which cannot fully be addressed in this paper.

James Potter is also mentioned in the snot category, namely by the marauders scholar artbyace (2023).

(5) tear volume

Artbyace (2023) claims James Potter is “full on bawling” which can only be assumed to refer to tear volume, but the most convincing argument for tear volume comes from the acclaimed marauders scholar @fruityindividual (2023), stating that “tsunami warning tones go off in sirius’ brain anytime remus is close 2 (sic) tears” which already indicates high levels of tear volumes. The author then goes on to specify the volume by claiming that “indeed the ocean wishes rj lupin would jump in and help contribute 2 (sic) rising sea levels”, further emphasizing the volume of Remus's tears.

(6) general loss of dignity

@pastaplatypus (2023) writes about James Potter not being able to do a Melodramatic Bollywood Cry, which is perceived as inherently racist by the crier.

I would like to argue that Sirius Black also deserves to be mentioned in this category. While as of today, with less than 1 hour left to vote, 15.5% of voters agree that Sirius is the ugliest crier, the more outspoken voices all argue for different ugly criers. Due to their upbringing, I am tempted to name both Black brothers in the “loss of dignity” category and look forward to reading future contributions to this discussion.

The pretty crying parameters

(7) glistening eyes/lashes

Undoubtedly Sirius Black deserves to be mentioned in this category. I believe his dark lashes and glimmering eyes are part of what makes him the prettiest crier. Whereas Remus’s eyes also sometimes glisten or appear red, and it is usually attributed to be caused by drug consumption, which more often than not is a wrong assumption, but he happily goes along with the pretense of being a weed-smoking bad boy in order to hide his ugly crying damp tendencies.

(8) Victorian heroine factor

It almost seems superfluous to even mention Sirius (and, to a lesser degree, Regulus) Black in this category. This category was made for Sirius, as is apparent when reading lynxindisguises (2023) description of the victorian heroine factor, in response to a question by the scholar @plecotusauritus:

“the Victorian Heroine Factor is a deeply scientific assessment of the Vibes. Is this person giving tragically beautiful, windswept Victorian Heroine, sobbing gently into their hands while sprawled across a boulder or a well or a fountain of some sort? When they look up at you, do their tear-plumped lips part elegantly as a single tear slides down their cheek?”

(9) elegant tear-wiping

There hasn't been a lot of research in this area, but I would like to propose handkerchiefs with embroidered initials and family crests as another potential factor in favor of the Black brothers scoring high marks in this category as well as the Victorian heroine factor.

(10) post-cry glow

Artbyace (2023) claims “lily is always beautiful (…) even when crying”, which is echoed by znelda’s (2023) earlier claim that “Lily (…) [is] a woman and no woman is ugly when crying.”

Sirius is the other popular choice by marauders scholars for this category, with @in-flvx (2023) stating that he “handsomely handsomes while dying after 12 years of torture hell and another year in shackles”, which would mean that “a few tears would[n’t] stop him from being the hottest person in the room at all times” (ibid).

Additional parameters

I am suggesting to introduce an additional metric in order to further specify and better assess the ugly-crying levels:

(11) explosiveness of cry

@felixantares (2023) introduces the idea that Remus “is the type that very few people have been seen cry because he ignores every difficult emotion hes (sic) ever had (…) and it all explodes at once and its horrible to watch when he breaks down”, a sentiment shared by several of the other authors mentioned above in various other categories.

Further opinions & conclusions

The most popular consensus seems to be that Sirius cannot be the ugliest crier, sometimes also in direct comparison to his brother: @spindrifters (2023) answers the question of the ugliest crier with “obviously it’s regulus”, elaborating that “at least [it’s] definitely not sirius bc (sic) reg is canonically less handsome in all ways” which brings up the question if regular beauty plays into ugly crying. This is contrasted by lynxindisguises argument, that Sirius may be an ugly crier because he’s so gorgeous, and his ugly crying subverts the expectations of beauty:

“the most beautiful man alive looks hideous while crying, and his deeply awkward and perpetually damp bf (sic) is literally in his element while crying – dampness becomes him, you might say.”

This statement raises yet another question – does regular crying make the crier more or less ugly? Can an ugly crier become a pretty crier by practice or are we all born either ugly or pretty criers, condemned to this fate for life?

While this paper has given an overview of the current state of research to ugly crying/pretty crying, it has also raised many more questions. Other topics which may be addressed in future papers also include the philosophical question whether ugly crying is in the eye of the beholder and if it is possible to ugly cry without being perceived, and if it is possible to ugly cry if the person perceiving you doesn’t find it ugly. Since the research field of ugly crying is a relatively new one, we can only hope to read many more opinions on these and other topics in the future, and I look forward to reading different scholar’s approaches to these highly relevant topics.

#marauders #idek what to tag this as lol #i don't write fic i only write pseudo scientific papers on fandom analysis (apparently) lol i had so much fun writing this #even if just 1 person reads it i'll be happy i know it's ridiculous #scientific analysis of ugly crying #akso i tried to tag everyone i mentioned to make it feel more like i'm actually quoting them (which i am) but if anyone doesn't want to be #tagged in this lmk and i'll remove it haha #anyways okay i'll post it now #this is what happens when i go on tumblr during work hours and then keep thinking about how much more fun editing papers would be if they #were about the marauders instead of the things i have to read/edit at work #hp #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #lily evans #regulus black #(this thing has almost 2k words and i wrote it in 2-3hours) #idek what that says about me #that this is how i chose to spend my tuesday evening #but i love it

[sugawhaaa]

Jiung x reader

Warming you up~

⛺️Pairing::sub!Jiung x dom!fem!reader

🌸genre::handjob,praise, (kinda) public sex, camping

♥️warnings::smut

A/N:: omg I've been starting so many fanfics and never finishing them but I FINALLY finished this one 😭 hope it was worth it

"It's getting really late," Jiung spoke aloud into the cold midnight summer air. You two were out camping and decided to have a little campfire before sleeping for the night. You cuddled up in a blanket and made some s'mores with nice calm music. Now the fire was nearly out so you were cold.

"Yeah, we should go inside." You said lazily getting up, the cold air touching your revealed skin making you shiver. Jiung wrapped the blanket around you with a smile. You returned his grin and admired his beautiful features as he did to you. He then coughed.

"Ahem! Can you carry the uh," He said as he frantically looked around. "Marshmallows and sticks!" He handed you the bag of Marshmallows and the small and skinny bag of roosting sticks. You nodded with a hum as you took the bags out of his hands. When you looked up at him he was zoned out looking at you again with pink cheeks. You gave him a questioning look and he jumped "Ah sorry! Just tired haha~" he said before spinning around to clean up the rest of your mess. You smiled warmly at him before going inside to feel the warm light on your skin. You put your things away before checking on Jiung.

"Need any help?" You called out to the silhouette in the dark.

"N-nope!" He said with a light jump.

"Are you sure?" You said stepping outside the back door.

"Yup!" He grabbed something off the ground and went over to you, his arms full and his body shivering.

"Oh get inside! You're freezing!" You said waving him inside. You hugged him to warm him up before helping him put everything away. The two of you then shut off all the lights and crawled into bed. You said goodnight to each other and started trying to sleep, but you were too restless. You rolled over and wrapped your arms around your boyfriend.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" He said as he peaked an eye open.

"Warming you up~" you cooed and he chuckled lightly before closing his eyes again. You pulled him close, feeling his body against yours. Your hands, roaming around his chest.

-spice-

You then moved your hands lower to feel his abs, you felt him jerk a little but he didn't seem to mind your hands. Then you decided to cross the line and go to the waistband of his pants. Still no reaction? He's usually so jumpy and he was abnormally jumpy earlier. You played with the waistband for a while when you felt his clothing being tugged. You decided to explore to find where the pulling was coming from and you expected to find his hand but instead you found a boner.

Jiung jumped away from your arms in an instant and covered his lower body in his blanket. His face was red and unsettled. It was like he didn't know how to reply. You crawled closer to him as he attempted to explain why he moved so suddenly, but alas to no avail. "I-I don't…" he stuttered out as you began to sit in his lap, setting your thighs at both sides of his body as your hands went to his shoulders. You felt his cock through all these layers of clothing still trying to get to your skin.

Meanwhile his eyes were averting from yours as his hands grabbed the sheets. "Y/N?" He said in a shaky breath.

"Yes?" You said seductively as you leaned closer to his quivering lips.

"Can you make me cum?" He said innocently looking up at you and you giggled making Jiung look unamused.

"As long as you'll be a good boy," you grinned. He nodded immediately and started pleading for your touch. You stripped him of his pants and got off his lap, and sat in front of him with an innocent grin. You sat there, waiting for his demand. Typically he'd tell you exactly what he wanted you to do but now he was silent. "Does my baby not know what he wants?" You teased as his cheeks heated up. Considering his facial expressions his answer was no so you decided to please him on your own accord. As soon as your touch came closer to him he got more flustered. You wrapped your hand around his length and he tucked his quivering lip in his teeth. You started slowly moving your hand up and down him as he started whimpering softly.

Little gasps and quiet moans harmonized in your ears every time you moved your hands in the slightest. He's so sensitive you thought to yourself as he started losing himself in your touch. The sounds of your hand sticking to him using his arousal made you crave more and you weren't the only one. Jiung started pleading for more and more as his body started tensing and jerking.

You moved your hand faster and faster as Jiung's moans got higher and more frequent. Mid moaning he started blabbering out words of desperation.

"Mmng- please, it feels so good, so f-fucking good~"

"You're always so cute when you're about to cum~" you cooed as he finally released all over your hand and blanket. Jiung eyes were shut tight before he peered them open to the sight in front of him. You examining your cum, coated hand and embarrassment struck Jiung. He buried his face in his pillow and you turned to. “What’s wrong baby?” You said as you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You asked me to make you cum so I did. Why’re you so nervous?” you said calmly as Jiung lifted his head out of the pillow.

“I don’t know why I’m nervous,” He stuttered as he looked into your eyes with adoration.

“You shouldn’t be, I just want to make you feel as good as possible and there is nothing wrong with that,” You explained and he seemed to be understanding. He nodded his head before shyly sitting up again. “Here, why don’t we make this a little more comfortable for you,” You said as you moved some pillows behind him. You then asked him to list off everything he was uncomfortable with and things he enjoyed during sensual hours. You took mental notes of everything as you set up the most comfortable makeshift seat for him.

“There, This better?” You smiled as he sat down on the soft squishy surface you designed for him. All he could do was nod as he fixed his position. You then found yourself in a familiar position, hands tied around his cock, him starting to tip over the edge, pleading for more. Loud raspy moans escaped him quickly as you felt his orgasm building. He shut his eyes tight again and hung his mouth open with his head back. He then came all over you for the second time but with much more pleasure to him. He took deep breaths as you licked up your hands. He then chuckled slightly awkwardly making you look up at him with a questioning look. Jiung pulled you into a hug and took you down to lay with him in the mess of pillows and blankets.

“How the Hell did you make me feel this good?” He said with a bewildered look making you laugh.

“I took lessons from you,” You said as you traced your fingers along his jawline. You then pulled him into a passionate kiss that lasted for what felt like hours before you found yourself exhausted.

#p1h jiung #jiung #choi jiung #p1h theo #p1h keeho #p1h soul #p1h intak #p1harmony reactions #p1harmony theo #p1harmony soul #p1harmony keeho #p1harmony smut #p1harmony x you #p1harmony x reader #p1harmony fluff #piwon #p1harmony

[matchagator]

Clash | jjk (Mature) Ch. 2

I am so thankful for all the love that has been shown so far toward "Clash". I was so excited to write the second chapter for you all and I hope you enjoy it just as much. Stay tuned for more banter, more arguments, and some smut! Let me know what you think so far.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader

{Rating:} 18+

{Genre:} Slice of Life | Neighbors

{Summary:} You're a new resident in your very first apartment excited to enjoy the simple life of adulthood. Unfortunately for you, you continue to run into unruly neighbors no matter how much you try to keep to yourself.

{Warnings:} Mature Language, Enemies to Lovers, Hostility, Mild Angst, Sexual Tension, Banter (This list will be updated as each part gets released)

{Tag List:} @erica2283 @i-never-post-but-i-am-here @koobunsblog @jkoma @jjkw-7 @gretesstuff @chimsworldsstuff @rms-expensive-girl @generouschildcolor @moonfaery @coralmusicblaze @roguesthetic @pjmises

The shock of your most recent revelation still has your jaw hung open in disbelief as Jungkook stares at you with irritation stretching over his facial features. His large doe eyes reveal the truth behind his emotions, clearly unsettled by the fact that you happen to be his new neighbor. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He knew from your interactions on the elevator that you lived on the same floor as he did, but he never assumed you live directly beside him. 

He groans, running a hand through the mess of hair atop his head. The curls of his overgrown mullet are saturated with sweat, clearly, an indication of whatever activity he was doing that elicited the moans and groans you heard from the opposite end of your bedroom wall. “Of course, I’d get stuck with you.” 

Jungkook knew he had a new neighbor after seeing the numerous boxes in the corridor the day you moved in. There wasn’t much interaction with each other before this point given you remained quiet about the ruckus he caused day in and day out. He was curious to know who inhabited the space directly beside him, however, he now knew the one person that annoyed him in the entire complex was the one connected to his bedroom wall. 

His comment sends you into a frenzy as you slam your palms against the frame of his door, making your dominance known as you roll your eyes in exasperation. “You? Stuck with me?” You laugh sarcastically, taking offense to his insult as you recall the numerous times you weren’t able to fall asleep because of the fucked up hours he seems to be awake. “Please, I’m the one who has to listen to your shit playlist every hour of the fucking night.” 

Jungkook presses his teeth together as his jaw tightens, leaning his arms back against the door frame to challenge your dominant stance. Before he can get a word out, you take a step forward, barricading yourself in front of his doorway without an ounce of shame. “Not to mention, I have to listen to you banging.” You gesture toward him in annoyance, motioning up and down to the disheveled appearance of your next-door neighbor.

Jungkook’s expression morphs into one of confusion, not recalling having anyone over since you moved in. “What the hell are you talking about?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, rolling his eyes at your insanity. 

You purse your lips together, popping out your hip at his audacity. Clearly, he was well aware of the loud groans echoing from his apartment. “The walls are thin, you know.” You add with a glare as you press forward. 

Jungkook takes a moment to think back on his evening, remembering that before his crazy new neighbor came pounding on his front door, he was trying to get in a late-night workout. He was doing drills on his speed bag, boxing away until he managed to get his heart rate up before adding some burpees to the routine. He knew the activities were strenuous, however, he never imagined making so much noise. His mind connects your accusations as his eyes widen at the thought, a smile of pure amusement cracks over his features as he lets out a breathy chuckle. “What exactly do you think I was doing?” 

You go to answer his question before you catch yourself, refusing to answer as your cheeks flush a bright shade of crimson. You replay the immoral thoughts that flashed through your mind when hearing Jungkook groan through your wall. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t imagine what was occurring in the opposite apartment, but now that you knew your neighbor was Jungkook, the thoughts seem more scandalous. Even Roxanne heard the sinful sounds through your telephone. Surely Jungkook knew that?

Before you can say anything, he lets out a playful laugh, crossing his arms in front of his bare torso. His tattooed arm is draped above the other, allowing you to study each design of the sleeve carefully as he continues his infectious laughter. “I was working out, princess. No need to blush.”

You blink as you process his words, feeling relief to know there was no banging on the other side of your wall. Your eyes travel back to the waistband of the basketball shorts hanging from his hips, feeling slightly dizzy at the thought of his abdominal muscles flexing as he works out. You can still see clear evidence of his labor on his torso, his skin glistening with sweat beneath the lighting of the hallway.  

“Oh my God.” You slap your palm against your forehead, the embarrassment of your false accusation causing you to shrink from your once self-assured stance. You realize that you’ve been drinking in the sight of his wonderfully toned body, hovering your eyes over his waist as you quickly glance back up to find his stare. “I’m sorry, I thought…” 

“You thought I was having sex?” He interrupts, his tone unable to conceal the enjoyment in his voice as he leans into the door frame. He offers you a cocky grin as another chuckle escapes his lips, realizing that you’ve been checking him out since he opened the door. “Bet it sparked your imagination.” 

You’re hit with a cold wave to calm the smothering heat that’s festering between your legs, infuriated with yourself for even being affected by this man’s physique. “You’re such a pig.” You snap back, attempting to focus on all of the reasons you despise your neighbor to help distract from his body. 

“If that’s what you wanna think, princess.” You wish you could slap the smug look from his face, groaning and rolling your eyes as you turn to walk away. 

Jungkook takes the opportunity to glance over your figure, admiring the band tee that drapes loosely over your frame. His eyes drop to your ass as you turn to storm off, biting the piercing on his bottom lip as he gently nibbles against it. If only you didn’t drive him mad. “Enjoy your tampons and chocolate!” He calls out after you, a little too loud for your liking as you quickly turn your body back to face him with every intention to shut him up. 

“Just keep it down.” You hiss, wanting to simply go back inside and curl into your bed to hide from the world. It was bad enough that you are on your period, but now you have to deal with Jungkook and the embarrassment of it all. You flick your gaze over his body once more before narrowing your eyes, pretending the sight of him disgusts you. “…and put on a shirt.” You scrunch your nose in distaste as you watch his tongue poke the inside of his cheek, the irritation between the pair of you evident as you stomp back into your apartment. 

You refuse to look back until you slam your door shut, leaning your back against your door as your body trembles with agitation. “Little shit.” You grumble, hating the fact that he manages to bother you so much each time you come across him. You let your anger escape with an exhale as you shuffle your feet across the floor to your bedroom. 

As you lay in bed to cuddle back with your heating pack, you hear the music stop from the other side of the wall. You sit up, completely in shock that he actually listened to you and turned down his music. You grin triumphantly as you lay against your pillow, your eyes glancing back over to your television to catch up on the latest episode displayed before you. Maybe going over there was the best thing for you to do. 

Just as you start getting back into your sitcom, loud thumping resumes through your bedroom wall, even louder than it originally was before. You groan, rolling over to yank your pillow over your head to smother the sound from invading your eardrums. As if Jungkook was purposefully trying to spite you, the persistent noise fluctuates as the loud vibrations become distant hums. You relax your body, giving up on the evening as you close your eyes and focus on anything else. 

— 

The chime of the elevator was swiftly followed by the large doors sliding open to reveal the familiar pattern of the carpeted corridor leading to your apartment. Luckily, you live beside one of the four corners, meaning the elevators were conveniently located just beyond the threshold of your front door. 

You balance a few bags in your hands as you step out into the brightly lit hallway, walking with haste to your apartment door as you juggle some fresh sushi and a couple of your favorite bottles of wine in a temperature-controlled reusable bag. For the first time since you’ve moved in, you are excited about an evening in, especially since your two best friends are coming to spare you from Jungkook’s insistent annoyance. 

As you approach the entryway of your unit, you glance into the corner space of the hallway, your eyes are met with a large wall. Your eyes flicker down to the minimalist doormat of Jungkook’s apartment, his gym bag haphazardly tossed into the corner beside his door. You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes once again at the notion that he assumed the corridor was his personal form of storage. 

“Pig”, you grunt under your breath as you pause in front of your door, satisfied with the sight of the wreath hung on your door to add an extra pop of decor to your space. You lean forward to place the bag of wine onto your doormat, allowing you the opportunity to retrieve your keys from your back pocket. You hear the gentle rustle of metal as you locate the correct one, aiming for the lock mechanism as you quickly unlock the door. 

Just as your wrist rotates, you reach for the handle with the opposite hand to help pry open the large structure. You pause as your palm is met with a slimy texture, causing your features to scrunch in disgust as you quickly pull your hand away from the handle. “What the fuck?” You display your hand open in front of you, noticing the faint glimmer of oil across your skin. You hesitate, lifting your hand to your nose to sniff the odd substance, relieved to find it was the familiar scent of avocado oil. 

“What are you? A fucking child?” You practically growl through your teeth, your jaw locking with tension as you wipe the sensation from your skin as you brush your hand against your hip. It’s no question how the oil got onto your door handle, your eyes accusingly shifting toward Jungkook’s apartment. You’ll be damned if you let his childlike pranks ruin the start of your day. 

You force yourself to take a deep breath, bending forward to pick up your groceries with every intention of escaping inside so you could avoid the possibility of running into him. As your bag lifts from the floor, you suddenly notice your welcome mat has been tampered with, the wording now upside down. You let a groan fester deep in your soul, tossing your head back in exasperation. Frankly, it was such a small annoyance, yet knowing it came from Jungkook seems to irk you more than it ever would otherwise. 

You dig your toe into the corner of the mat, kicking the material until it’s facing the correct direction before walking in and shutting your door behind you. You sigh as you shuffle toward the kitchen, placing your bag on the counter. You sigh as you recall the oil from your door handle, moving toward the sink to wash away the remnants from your skin. You take a pump of soap, working the lather of the substance between your palms as your elbow pushes open the tap.  

The reality of the situation is that Jungkook went out of his way to sabotage your door and fiddle with your doormat with the intention of pissing you off. Unfortunately, it was working, your body simmering with agitation at the thought of such petty actions. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since you both discovered that you are neighbors, and he’s already doing shit like this? This was going to be a long-year lease if this keeps up. 

You groan once again before rinsing the soap from your hands, shutting off the tap to grab the tea towel that was hanging from the handle of your stove. You dry your hands before moving back to your groceries, unzipping the top, and starting to pull out the contents.  You pluck the bottles of wine from the bag first, setting them against the island, knowing you couldn’t wait to indulge in them later that evening. 

Switching your attention to the various assortments of sushi tucked at the bottom of the bag, you gently pull them from their security, setting them on the counter as you lean your hands into the corner of the kitchen island. You glance down at the rolls, noticing a few pieces of nigiri with fresh slabs of cut salmon decorating the top. You tuck your bottom lip into your teeth, gnawing the flesh softly as you ponder intrusive thoughts of revenge as you vividly picture Jungkook’s gym bag in the corridor outside. 

The corner of your mouth pulls into a sinister grin at the reality of his belongings helplessly sitting outside, tempting you to tamper back. “I can’t.” You whisper to yourself, knowing that if you fell to his level, you’d surely declare war. Hasn’t it already begun anyway? You continue chewing on your bottom lip before succumbing to your petty urges, quickly lifting the top off of the delicacy to peel a piece of sliced salmon from one of the mounds of rice. 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” You say to yourself as you dangle the raw fish in front of you, expecting it would only take an hour or so before it warmed up and started to stink. You quickly shuffle your feet toward your front door, peeking out of the peephole to see if anyone is out in the corridor. If you are going to do this, you are going to have to be quick. 

You pause as you reach for the handle, questioning if you should really be placing a piece of raw fish in his gym bag just to get back at him. Weren’t you taking it a step too far? Your mind quickly scans through all of the interactions you’ve shared with Jungkook since your arrival and you finally settle on the memory of being hit with a ball at the pool. Could you be a better person and ignore his childish pestering? Absolutely. Did you want to? Hell no. If he was taking shots, you were equally as prepared to serve him a taste of his own medicine. 

You quickly pull open the handle of your front door, leaning your head out into the hallway as your peer from side to side to see if the coast is clear. You grin childishly as you realize there isn’t a single soul in the corridor and Jungkook’s door is shut. Fearful of getting caught, you quietly tiptoe toward his gym bag, noticing a high-brand logo printed on the side of the duffle. You pause once again, suddenly feeling bad that you would soon be ruining something of such value. You chew on the inside of your cheek, pondering your decision until you settle on the fact that he could always wash it and air it out. 

Once there, you crouch down, pinching the zipper between your thumb and pointer finger as you gently slide it open, revealing a pair of boxing gloves and a towel nestled inside. You peer up, glancing around once more as you hang the piece of salmon over the opening, letting it plop into the corner beside one of the gloves. You cringe at the thought of what it might smell like later, gently pushing the glove on top of it to conceal it from view once you first open the bag. You close it with haste as you push off your hands to help you stand back up, turning to sneak back into your apartment and shut the door close behind you. 

The solitude of your apartment allows you to press your back against the front door, giggling immaturely as you relish in your actions. This is something you would typically never do, however, the excitement of getting Jungkook back seems worth it all. You brush off your hands, moving to turn your attention back onto covering up the rest of the nigiri and placing it into the fridge to store it until later, desperately awaiting the commencement of your girl's night.

—

The soft sounds of mumbling women echo throughout Jungkook’s apartment as the voices within your living room travel through the walls. Your girl's night was commencing while Jungkook and Taehyung freshen up after a day of various activities around town, completely oblivious to the events occurring in your apartment.

Taehyung walks through the kitchen of Jungkook’s unit, typing away on his phone as he places an order for pizza to be delivered as a quick alternative to cooking dinner. While he does so, Jungkook walks out of his bedroom, his hair still dripping wet from his shower as he runs a towel through the damp strands of his hair.

“I’m ordering pizza,” Taehyung speaks softly as he hears the click of Jungkook’s door, informing his best friend of his last-minute decision. The apartment owner simply nods in agreement as Jungkook moves to sit against the couch, letting his body fall limp into the plush cushions. 

“Sounds good to me,” Jungkook claims as he continues working the fabric of the towel through his hair to soak up as much water as possible. He’s wearing a pair of blue jeans and a loose black t-shirt that conceals his toned frame as he shifts his eyes toward Taehyung. His best friend has his elbows pressing into the kitchen counter as he continues to type in the instructions for the pizza delivery. 

It was now well past eight as the two men suddenly realized that they hadn't made any plans to satisfy their growing hunger. Taehyung was the more responsible of the two, taking on the task of ordering food for him and the man he considered a younger brother. Jungkook gently lifts his legs as he shifts to a lying position on the couch, letting his tired limbs take a moment to melt into the cushions. The soreness serves as a painful reminder of their many reps this morning at the gym, leaving him groaning as he rolls his body over so he can face Taehyung.

The recollection of their workout has him scanning the living room for the location of his gym bag. He momentarily pauses to think about its whereabouts, remembering tossing it down outside his apartment when they decided to hit up the pool. 

“Hey, would you check if my bag is still outside?” Jungkook motions toward the front door with a nod of his head, watching as Taehyung finally submits their order before shifting his gaze to the front door.

 He offers Jungkook a look of annoyance as he moves toward the front door. “Seriously? You haven’t brought it in yet?” Taehyung swiftly opens the front door to see the familiar object sitting in the corner of the corridor, nestled just beside the door. “You’re such a slob.” He complains playfully, retrieving the item as Jungkook retaliates from his position on the couch. 

“I am not. I just forgot.” He defends, glancing around at his relatively neat apartment. He wasn’t necessarily a messy person, he just had groups of random objects piled off to the side until he had time to put them up. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes as he leans down to grab the gym bag, instantly being met with the overwhelming smell of something putrid. He dramatically coughs back his disgust as he hesitantly lifts the sack by one of the straps, carrying it at arm's length as he brings it back inside. Jungkook is none the wiser as he hears the front door close shut, revealing a horrified Taehyung. “JK, your shit smells rank.” He groans, tossing the bag down at the foot of the couch. 

“Oh, shut up.” Jungkook sits up as he watches Taehyung struggle to breathe properly, pinching his eyebrows together as he follows Taehyung’s dramatic gaze toward the bag. “It’s not that bad.” He couldn’t imagine what he might have left in there to cause such a reaction from his friend. He typically showers and changes after every workout, rarely ever using the bag to store soiled clothing. Did he leave a pair of socks that caused an odor to build? “It’s just boxing gloves.”

The moment the words left his lips, he was met with the same vile smell that Taehyung described, oddly resembling the faint scent of rotting flesh. “What the fuck is that?” That was definitely not just his boxing gloves. He moves quickly to unzip the top compartment of the bag, peeling it open as the odor only increases, causing him to instantly pull the collar of his shirt over his mouth and nose as he desperately tries not to gag at the repulsive stench.

Taehyung simply shrugs his shoulders, retreating back into the kitchen to avoid inhaling any more of the horrid fragrance. “Damn, JK. What do you have in there?” Taehyung has known Jungkook for years and he never experienced such a smell coming from the younger male, let alone his belongings. “Whatever it is, it smells like shit.”

Jungkook shot him a deadly glare as Taehyung innocently held his hands up in his defense, knowing he had nothing to do with whatever situation was unfolding in his bag. Jungkook cautiously moves aside one of his gloves to reveal a pinky, orange substance tucked at the bottom corner. “What the fuck?” He moves to pinch his fingers around the now slimy piece of salmon, lifting it up out of the bag to display it to Taehyung. “Is this fish?” 

Taehyung can’t keep his face from morphing in disgust, dramatically dry heaving as he turns away from the sight. Jungkook simply glares at him through the mess of slightly damp curls hanging in his eyes, shaking his head as he studies the mysterious piece of salmon. He’s had sushi and nigiri plenty of times to recognize the type of protein, standing up to bring it toward the trash can. “It’s salmon.” 

Taehyung’s eyes scrunch in confusion, watching as Jungkook discards it quickly into the bin. “Why do you have salmon in your gym bag?” He can’t help but chuckle at his question, watching in amusement as Jungkook becomes increasingly annoyed that his belongings are now covered with the scent of rotting fish. 

“Like I would know.” He snaps back at him, moving to the sink to clean off the liquid from his hands. Taehyung steps aside, finding the situation quite comical. As if on queue, there is a boisterous laugh that echoes through the walls of his apartment, reflecting the amusement of the girls next door as the gentle thumping of music begins to reverberate against the walls. Jungkook pushes open the tap of his sink, pumping some soap onto the palms of his hands. 

Over the commotion next door, he can make out the faint hint of your voice, suddenly recalling the small prank he sabotaged your door with this morning. How else would fish suddenly appear in his gym bag? You had to be the culprit and Jungkook just caught onto your declaration of war. “That bitch.” He groans, scrubbing his hands together as Taehyung leans the back of his hip into the counter. 

“What bitch?”

Jungkook scoffs with a small chuckle of disbelief. “Remember that girl from the pool?” 

Taehyung scans his memory, vaguely recalling a conversation with Jungkook about a girl that he apparently had no interest in despite her good looks. “You mean the hot one that you threw a ball at?” 

Jungkook grins mischievously at the memory, smiling in satisfaction before remembering the events that just occurred. “Yeah…turns out she’s my neighbor.” Jungkook is definitely physically attracted to you, however, the numerous interactions you two shared seem to create a clear understanding that you both can’t stand each other beyond looks. Now it was a battle of the sexes as you both engaged in a petty prank war just to further piss each other off. “I bet she put this fish there.”

Taehyung’s jaw hangs open in surprise, his cheeks swelling against his eyes as he bends over in laughter. “Ah man…that sucks.” While Taehyung didn’t understand why Jungkook didn’t pursue you, he had also heard stories of all of your interactions, giving him a decent chunk of background knowledge to understand your current dynamic with his best friend. 

Jungkook sighs as he moves to dry his hands, hearing another chuckle roar from next door. It was evident that you had friends over for the evening and you clearly aren’t concerned about the level of noise you were making. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity for Jungkook to strike again. His features illuminate as an idea courses through his mind, chuckling at the possible reaction that might flood over your face. 

“Help me get even.” With that, Jungkook tugs the collar of his shirt as he quickly lifts the fabric up and over his head to expose his bare torso. The only thing remaining is his jeans that deliciously hang from his hips as he flashes Taehyung a wild expression. “Take off your shirt.” Jungkook quickly demands, leaving Taehyung baffled at his sudden change in attitude. 

“Hell no.” Taehyung instinctually answers, wondering what the hell Jungkook was up to this time. His denial has the youngest simply shrugging his shoulders as he moves toward his front door. 

“Suit yourself.” 

Jungkook pulls open his door handle as Taehyung swiftly joins him in pulling off his shirt, tossing it onto the counter beside him as he shakes his head in disapproval. Of course, he'd get wrapped up in whatever nonsense Jungkook was about to unfold, however, his curiosity simply couldn’t allow him to sit out of the action. Jungkook grins mischievously as he motions for Taehyung to follow behind him, enlightening his friend as he exposes his intentions. “You’re crazy.” Taehyung puts it simply despite the laugh that erupts from him as he hesitantly joins him. “But I’m in.”

—

Roxanne and Lisa sit across from you on the large sectional decorating your living room, a large smile stretching across your lips at the reality of finally having your own place to host your friends in peace. Your favorite playlist echoes from the Bluetooth sound bar beneath your television, the music loud enough to drown out any possible noises coming from Jungkook’s apartment, but not too loud that you can’t make conversation with your guests. 

You gently swirl the liquid in your wine glass, a fragrant peach aroma wafting from the cup as you bring it to your lips to taste the sweet alcohol on your tongue. Thankfully, the neighbor on the opposite side of your apartment from Jungkook works night shifts, which allows you to enjoy the evening without fear of bothering her with your music and loud chatter. Jungkook on the other hand, you couldn’t care less if you inconvenienced him. 

Roxanne’s features brighten with jubilation as another round of giggles erupts your lips, catching up on all of the latest gossip from your lives. Your eyes widen as Lisa retells the events of a recent date she embarked on, offering her a comforting smile as she vents about some tool. “Fuck him.” You offer unapologetically. 

Roxanne quickly lifts her glass to propose a toast to your statement. “I second that.” She offers before downing the rest of her wine, quickly leaning forward to retrieve the wine bottle from the coffee table to pour herself another glass. You smile as Lisa’s mood becomes instantly more relaxed, thankful to have the support of her friends as she leans back into the couch cushions to get more comfortable. Once Roxanne’s glass is nearly full, she places the bottle back on the table before shooting you a questioning glance. “Alright, Y/n. Spill the apartment drama.” She lifts her eyebrows suggestively, smirking as she brings the rim of her glass to her lips. 

You pause as Lisa straightens herself on the couch. “Oh yeah. Tell us about living by yourself.” She offers with a gentle smile. “Is it all you hoped it’d be?” Lisa has always been the most easygoing of the three of you, being the only friend left in your trio to find her own place. 

Your first instinct is to lie and tell them how amazing everything is. Your apartment was beautiful and located in an amazing part of town. The complex offers amazing amenities with a vast majority of your neighbors being relatively friendly. That’s why you end up saying, “It’s amazing! I should’ve moved out sooner.” You joke, despite the haunting memory of your unruly neighbor, hoping the reality of Jeon Jungkook would stay hidden for the night. 

“How are your neighbors?” Roxanne smirks with her lips still against her glass, recalling your conversation yesterday. You shrug at her statement, lifting your cup to take another sip. “Did you find out if they were banging?”

The flesh of your cheeks instantly becomes warm at the memory of Jungkook’s groans through your wall, remembering his chiseled torso when you bravely walked over to give him a piece of your mind. You feel the burn of the wine in your throat as you choke back your surprise, stunned that she asks so bluntly. Before you can say anything, Lisa’s jaw drops open in excitement as if there is drama to spill. “What?!” 

You fail to notice how rosy your cheeks become, unsure if it’s from the alcohol or the mere memory of Jungkook looking incredibly hot and sweaty. “Oh my God.” You groan, placing your glass down on the coffee table as you stand up to try and derail the conversation. “Who wants food?” You ask nervously, watching as Lisa quickly shifts to raise a hand, successfully distracting her from the question. Roxanne on the other hand narrows her eyes in your direction, shaking her head in amusement before sparing you from more inquiries about your neighbor. 

“What are we eating?” Lisa questions enthusiastically, the simple thought of food causing her eyes to widen like a child in a candy shop. 

You move quickly towards the kitchen, your eyes set on the refrigerator as you call out from across the space. “Sushi and nigiri!” You claim happily, excited to indulge in a meal you’ve been craving since your period began. You open the icebox, pulling out the trays you picked up earlier, noticing the bare rice ball that once held the piece of salmon you placed into Jungkook’s gym bag. You smile mischievously at the memory, wishing you could witness his face once making the unfortunate discovery. 

As you set the assortment trays on the counter, moving to retrieve a few chopsticks from your utensil drawer, you hear your doorbell sound over the low reverberations of the music. You pinch your eyebrows together in curiosity, wondering who could possibly be at your door. Aside from Lisa and Roxanne, you never have visitors. Before you can move out of the kitchen, Roxanne shimmies past you toward the front door. “I’ll get it for you.” She hums happily, assuming it was a delivery. 

Before you can respond, your mind wonders if Jungkook is the one knocking on your door. Did he find the fish in his gym bag? Was he annoyed by your music, giving him a taste of his own medicine? Before you can move around the corner, your worst fear is confirmed as Roxanne pulls open the large structure. 

You hear Jungkook’s voice from across the threshold of your apartment, quickly shuffling your feet against the tile to join Roxanne before he can cause any damage. You instantly become horrified as Lisa joins Roxanne, your eyes quickly shift to find Jungkook with the same friend that was with him the other day at the pool, half naked in your doorway. 

“Y/n!?” You hear Roxanne holler, her smile invading her cheeks as her jaw hangs open. “You ordered strippers for tonight?” She seems far too excited as your cheeks flush an insatiable shade of crimson, your mouth going dry as you try to find the words to speak. 

“Hell yeah!” Lisa shouts from behind you, drinking at the sight of the two handsome men in your doorway. You feel suffocated with embarrassment as your mind tries to connect the fact that Jungkook and Taehyugn were posing as strippers while your two best friends openly ogle your neighbor’s deliciously yet, obnoxiously exposed body. “Damn, Y/n. I’d expect this from Roxanne, not you.” Lisa continues as she pats your shoulder excitedly. “Not that I’m complaining.” 

Your eyes shift toward Jungkook, finding his bright doe eyes underneath his still-damp hair from his shower, a vexatious grin plastered on his face. “Hey, Princess.” His voice dips seductively, causing your brain to short-circuit as you desperately try to grasp ahold of the situation. Before Roxanne can move to invite them in, you quickly push past her, blocking the entryway of your apartment. 

“These aren’t strippers.” Your voice has a little more bite than you originally intend, glaring intensely at Jungkook for pulling such an embarrassing stunt the first time you have your friends over. “This is my stupid neighbor and his friend.” You groan as you motion toward Jungkook before shifting your hand toward Taehyung. 

“This is your neighbor?” Roxanne purrs as she leans into the doorway, her eyes drinking in the vision of both of the handsome men before you. She knows exactly who he is as she puts together the reality that this was the neighbor from next door that she heard grunting while on the phone with you. 

You can’t help but let out another groan, turning to face your friends with embarrassment still etched over your features. “Unfortunately.” You feel Jungkook come up behind you, placing his hand around your waist to continue his mission of pissing you off in front of your friends. Your body flinches at his touch, something Roxanne quickly catches on to as she studies your body language. 

“Oh please, she secretly loves me.” He grins confidently as he leans to the side to whisper in your ear. “Don’t you, princess?” His voice is mocking as a low purr resonates in his chest at the satisfaction of your flustered appearance. 

“You wish.” You snap back softly, forcing a smile on your face in an attempt not to tear into him in front of your friends.

 Roxanne grins playfully as she tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, smiling at Jungkook and Taehyung before glancing back at Lisa who was equally enjoying their company. “In that case, why don’t you guys join us for a few drinks? We were just about to have some sushi.” You practically feel your jaw unhinge as you glance back toward Roxanne. You can’t believe what you just heard. She did not just invite them to crash your girl's night. 

“Yeah, you should!” Lisa smiles brightly, moving to stand beside Roxanne. “There is plenty to go around.” You glance over to Lisa, seeing her flash you a suggestive look, knowing that the evening would be far more entertaining with a pair of good-looking men. If these were your neighbors, why wouldn’t you invite them in with the hopes of getting close to one of them? Unfortunately for you, you know exactly how Jungkook is and the thought of spending the evening with him churns the inside of your stomach. 

Jungkook glances back at Taehyung who seems thrilled with the notion of spending time with three attractive women, eager to get the night started. Jungkook smiles charmingly as he tightens the grip on your side, chuckling deeply at the tension in your limbs. “We’d love to.” 

Roxanne and Lisa rejoice as they move back into the apartment to head toward the living room as you quickly wiggle your way out of Jungkook’s hold to block the doorway of your apartment. You stretch your arms out to each side as the two men walk toward you, your eyes narrowing in their direction. “You are not coming into my apartment.” You hiss as Jungkook simply smiles condescendingly. 

“But your friends were so looking forward to getting to know us.” He teases, knowing that if you forbid them from coming in, you would need to spend the rest of the evening talking about your relationship with them and why you wouldn’t invite them in. 

You press your lips into a thin line, fighting the irritation bubbling within you as you glance back toward Taehyung who seems like an innocent soul just dragged along by Jungkook. You let a sigh escape your lips as you drop your arms, watching as Jungkook’s confidence skyrockets. Just as he moves to push past you, you hold up your arms once more, glaring darkly at your infuriating neighbor. “Not until you both put on a shirt.” 

“What? Don’t want your friends lusting over me all night?” He states blatantly, completely unfazed as the pink in your cheeks darkens from the thought of having to witness him this way yourself. While he might drive you up the wall, you couldn’t deny that he was undeniably handsome. 

“Just go put on a fucking shirt.” You hiss between your teeth as Taehyung gently pulls Jungkook back from challenging your stance. 

“You got it.” Taehyung comments quickly, before guiding Jungkook back to his apartment door and turning to glance back at you. “I’ll bring some beer.” He offers, knowing it is best to accommodate their drinking since she is being kind enough to let them join in. 

—

Your eyes flicker across your living room as you lean back in your armchair, desperately trying not to let a frown tug against the corners of your lips. You bring your wine glass to your lips, peering over the edge as you gulp back a taste of the sweet liquid, enjoying the subtle burning as it travels down your throat. You wish you were drinking something stronger to take off the edge of Jungkook and Taehyung being in your apartment, slowly working on your own bottle of wine as heat builds in your chest from the slight intoxication. 

Jungkook and Taehyung obeyed your single request, returning with shirts on and a case of beer to consume while getting to know you and your friends. Their pizza was thankfully delivered during that time, however, they left it next door in hopes of consuming some sushi and nigiri, free of charge. 

Roxanne and Lisa are the ones doing most of the talking, Roxanne becomes an insatiable flirt the more she consumes cups of wine while Lisa focuses her attention on the ever-handsome Taehyung. You stay quiet, only adding to the conversation whenever a question or remark is directed at you, silently observing the way your friends seem to melt into the men’s hands. You laugh under your breath, rolling your eyes as you take another swig of your wine. 

You can’t help but let your thoughts wander, thinking back on all of the interactions you’ve shared with Jungkook so far, recalling the sight of him dripping wet in the pool and the sight of his bare torso glistening with sweat the night before. For someone you claim to hate, you find yourself thirsting over him through the heat of your growing intoxication. 

“What do you like to do in your free time?” You hear Roxanne’s voice which pulls you from your mind as your eyes settle on the sight of one of your best friends sitting dangerously close to Jungkook all of a sudden. 

Jungkook simply smiles, his legs spread sinfully as he leans back into the couch, his hand still gripped around his beer bottle as it nestles itself between his thighs. “I like boxing.” He claims, his large doe eyes exposing his enjoyment of the activity. 

Lisa’s eyes widen at his statement, shifting her gaze onto him. “Really, boxing?” Jungkook hums in agreement, his eyes scanning the crowd until they stop on your gaze, your cheeks suddenly becoming flush from getting caught staring at him. 

“Y/n likes going to the gym as well.” Roxanne’s statement is delivered as if it were meant to be a flex on your behalf, narrowing your eyes as you watch her make a suggestive look for you to engage in the conversation. 

Jungkook lets out a chuckle of amusement, lifting the rim of his beer bottle to his lips as he pulls back a sizable amount of the alcohol. “Does she?” His tone is almost mocking as he thinks back on your first interaction in the mail room. He vaguely remembers calling you lazy for not wanting to make multiple trips up with your groceries, flashing you a questioning glare as you sarcastically offer him a smile. 

“Oh yeah,” Lisa adds as if she was helping sell the idea. “She used to go all the time before her ex…”

“Who wants more sushi?” You interrupt promptly at the mention of your ex. It’s bad enough that Jungkook is in your apartment, you don’t need him to know your entire backstory as well. You flash Lisa a threatening glare before standing up to make your way into the kitchen. The layout of your apartment includes a dividing half wall between the living space and the kitchen, providing you with shelter from their stares as you quickly move to lean into the counter. 

You pause for a moment, hopelessly trying to make out the conversation commencing on the opposite side of the wall. Luckily, the conversation seems to shift onto Taehyung and his line of work versus the story of your ex and more personal information you didn’t care to expose to a man you barely know. 

A sigh escapes your lips as you press up on your toes to reach one of the overhead cabinets, seeking out an empty glass to pour yourself a cup of water to cool you off from the building swirl in your mind. This evening was already throwing you for a loop, you don’t need to get black out drunk on top of it all. 

You quickly close the door of the cabinet, turning around to take slow strides toward the fridge, relishing in the intimacy of the kitchen versus the crowd that occupies your living room. You press your cup into the dispenser on the refrigerator door, watching as it slowly fills with liquid while you become parched for a taste of the freshness. Once it fills to your liking, you pull it away and bring it to your lips, taking a large gulp to soothe your throat. 

“Is it me, or do you always seem to have a stick up your ass?” You hear a deep voice from behind you, turning around to spot Jungkook walking into the kitchen with an empty beer bottle in hand. Of course, he follows you into the kitchen when all you want is a moment of quiet to collect your whirling thoughts. 

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, clearly upset by his looming presence. “Only when you’re around.” You state plainly as you move back to press back against your counter, watching him carefully as he enters the kitchen to discard his empty bottle before fetching a new one. 

His large eyes stalk you from across the kitchen as he presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “I’m flattered.” His voice drops an octave as he hovers over the trays of sushi displayed on your counter, selecting a random one before tossing it fully into his mouth. You can’t help but watch the flex of his throat as he swallows back the morsel, feeling your body crawl with heat as his jaw morphs with each movement. Why the hell were you so drawn to his physique? It must be the alcohol. Has to be. 

You slowly tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, gnawing on the flesh gently as you shift your eyes to look anywhere other than Jungkook. While you start focusing on the patterns on your backsplash, Jungkook glances over the selection of food before settling on a piece of nigiri with a missing cut of salmon atop. He glances over the rest, noticing a few more pieces beside it with delicate cuts of fish laid on top, almost identical to the one he found in his bag earlier that evening. 

He lets out a scoff as he passes his tongue across the bottom of his teeth, biting back the urge to snap at you for causing his gym bag to sell horrid from the rotting fish. “Funny. ” He gently motions to the small rice ball, shifting his gaze toward you. “These look just like the piece of salmon I found in my gym bag earlier.” He accuses you indirectly as your irises find his large eyes narrowing in your direction. 

“Oh?” You hum simply, feigning innocent until proven guilty. Jungkook tilts his head in exasperation, refusing to play dumb just for your entertainment. You bite back a laugh as the corners of your cheeks pull into a small smile. “Must have fallen out of my bag while I was unlocking my door.” You shrug your shoulders as you take another sip of your water. 

Jungkook clenches his teeth as he fights off his growing irritation. “So it just happened to fall into my gym bag that was nowhere near your door?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, the tattooed pattern on his forearm wonderfully displayed for your enjoyment. 

You simply shrug once more, recalling the words he once spoke to you when purposefully hitting you with a volleyball, ultimately causing you to spill your drink. You smirk mischievously as you glue your gaze onto his, making sure he can plainly see the sarcasm you’re directing at him. “Happy accident.”

Jungkook practically growls at your response, recognizing your efforts as he turns to grab his beer bottle, popping off the cap. He takes a large swig, hoping to take off some of the edge as he hears laughter and giggles resonating from your living room. If you were going to be coy with him, he would gladly play the same game and get under your skin, and he knew exactly how to do it. “Your friend Roxanne is hot.” He blurts out shamelessly, causing you to choke on your water as you take another sip. He didn’t have to be so forward. 

You let out a few coughs to soothe the building tightness in your throat from inhaling your water the wrong way, staying silent since you truly don’t know how to even respond to that. He watches you carefully, grinning maliciously as the sparkle behind your irises fills with jealousy; jealousy you didn’t even know you have. “I bet she’s a freak in bed.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You snap, completely disgusted to hear him speak about your best friend in such a manner. He truly is the pig you make him out to be, yet why are his words upsetting you so much? 

He shrugs as he lifts his beer bottle back up to his lips, taking another sip as you slowly watch the flex of his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with each gulp. He pops off the bottle with a content sigh as his eyes fill with darkness. “You thought I was banging someone yesterday, might as well make it a reality for you.” 

Jungkook’s words crash into you with blunt force, surely knocking you off your feet as you try to grasp his implications. Your cheeks flush red as you recall the sinful groans and moans from next door, the sounds echoing in your mind as your body heats up at the thought of his chiseled body on top of someone, fucking them into oblivion. You remember that he just implied doing such activities with your best friend, causing the building jealousy and rage to snap. You barely have the time to think about anything before your hand jolts forward, tossing the remnants of your cup onto Jungkook as a gasp escapes your lips. 

What the fuck is wrong with you? You blink off your blind wrath to find Jungkook’s messy curls drenched with the water from your cup, his shirt clinging to his body as he uses his free hand to smooth the damp hair back out of his face. “Seriously, Y/n?” He growls, before glancing down to find his shirt half soaked from your craziness.  

You’re completely horrified that you would do such a thing, however, your stubbornness towards him causes you to simply shrug. “You seemed like you needed to cool off.” You add quickly, owning up to your actions even though a part of you felt like they were completely uncalled for. You couldn’t possibly apologize for letting your jealousy get the best of you. You’d rather look like a bitch than give him the satisfaction of letting him know he got the best of you. 

Jungkook presses his lips together in a tight line as he takes slow, careful steps toward you as you press back onto the edge of the counter. He’s causing your proximity to diminish and it’s slowly starting to suffocate you as he stops just inches away from your frame. Without a single word, he just offers you a smile which causes you to stare up at him in confusion, half expecting him to yell at you. Instead, you see him lift his hand from the corner of your eye before a cold trickling sensation drips down your hair and onto your shoulder. 

Your mouth drops open as you glance up hesitantly, watching as beer drips from his bottle onto your head, soaking your hair with the awful stench of the gluttonous liquid. “What the hell, JK?!” You hiss between your teeth, placing your cup down on the counter before shoving your hands against his chest to send him back a few steps. “That’s fucking beer, mine was just water.” You complain, glancing down at the drenched strains of your hair. 

Jungkook lets a dark chuckle vibrate in his diaphragm as he shrugs his shoulders unapologetically. “Happy accident.” He offers, his large doe eyes shining with mischief as he chugs back the last of the alcohol in his bottle. “Now we’re even.” He places the bottle down on the opposite side of the counter before reaching for another, holding it up as a gesture of his victory. He offers you a cocky grin before turning around to leave the kitchen, ready to rejoin the group in the other room. 

“Even, my ass.” You grumble under your breath, turning to face the array of food you have spread across your countertop. You find a container of soy sauce directly beside your hand, making a split-second decision to grab ahold of it before calling out to Jungkook. “Hey, JK?” You watch as he turns around to face you before flinging the liquid inside of the container, satisfied once Jungkook’s shirt becomes stained with the sauce. You can’t help but let a giggle escape your lips as Jungkook’s eyes light up with anger. 

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be.” He growls before setting his beer down and grabbing the rice ball from the nigiri missing the piece of salmon that unfortunately ended up in his gym bag. He takes quick strides towards you before smashing the rice against the top of your head, smearing the sticky grains until they become laced through your strands. 

You gasp at the audacity, reaching back to grab the first thing within your proximity. The tray of cupcakes you purchased earlier is right beside you as you grab one of the pastries before smearing the frosting straight across Jungkook’s face as his handsome features become camouflaged in a veil of buttercream. 

 Before you can do anything else, Jungkook reaches up to grab your wrists, grabbing one in each hand as he pins your arms back against the counter. You pause in your aggression as you become caged between the counter and his towering frame, your arms helpless against his strength as he holds you in place. 

Jungkook pants softly as his body trembles in anger, traces of the frosting residing on his cheeks and lips as his eyes bore into your soul. A chill courses through your limbs at the sight, suddenly intimidated by his intensity as you feel yourself shrink beneath his stare. 

“Had enough?” He breathes, his breath ghosting against your cheek as you challenge his glare. 

You try to pry yourself from his hold as he presses his hips forward to keep you glued to the counter, your body becoming hot from just how close he is to you. “Fuck you.” You hiss, leaning forward to assert your dominance, surprised to see Jungkook refuses to flinch or pull away. You’re now inches from each other in an intense stare-down while the effects of the alcohol has you blushing from the close contact. 

“I’d love to see you try.” His voice reflects the animosity he shares toward you, however, there is a hint of lust laced through his tone. You gulp back your surprise, not expecting him to respond in such a way. You try to move away, however, you’re suddenly drawn closer to his lips, the alcohol in your system impairing your judgment as your eyes flick down to the piercing tucked at the corner of his bottom lip. You feel breathless as the sexual tension between you engulfs your desires, your body relaxing in his hold as you stop fighting against him.

Jungkook continues to close the distance between you as you feel his waist continue digging against your hips, both of you lost in each other in a moment that resembled being caught under a spell. “Y/n! What’s taking so long?” You hear Roxanne’s voice call out from the living room as it pulls you both back to reality. Jungkook releases his hold of your wrists as he steps away from you, quickly retrieving a napkin to wipe off the evidence of your childish tussle. 

“Taehyung, we’re leaving,” Jungkook calls out, thankful to have most of the frosting cleaned from his complexion. He doesn’t spare you another glance as he grabs the rest of the beers, making his way out into the hallway with a slam of your front door. You scoff from his sudden mood swing as you hesitantly walk back out into the living room, forgetting about your disheveled appearance. 

Roxanne and Lisa’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as they take in your beer-soaked appearance, rice and all smeared within your hair. “Y/n…what…”

Before Lisa can ask what occurred during your absence, you hold up a hand in defeat as you move toward your bedroom. “Don’t ask. I’ll be right back.” You speak quickly, watching as Taehyung stands with haste to follow after Jungkook. 

Taehyung pauses as he walks by you, an apologetic look reflecting in his eyes as he offers you a sheepish smile. “Thanks again for having us over.” He offers in an attempt to be somewhat chivalrous, assuming Jungkook was the reason behind her appearance. You simply smile at him as he makes his way toward the door before you disappear into your bedroom to clean off the smell of beer. 

—

After a few days of dodging Jungkook and hiding out in your apartment, you finally feel a bolt of energy to get back on your feet and enjoy your time off of work. The last few days had you working long hours, eagerly taking overtime just to avoid coming home and having to put up with Jungkook’s insufferable presence. Thankfully, another day off meant you had the opportunity to enjoy yourself and do some self-care. 

You quickly maneuver through the corridor outside of your apartment, making a dash for the elevator in hopes of preventing another run-in with your neighbor. Unfortunately, Jungkook seemed to work odd hours which keeps you from identifying a specific schedule of when to expect him. Instead, you’re left on your toes to constantly fear another interaction with the man that drove you to the brink of insanity. You catch a glimpse of yourself in one of the mirrors dressing the elevator lobby, admiring the way your old workout clothes seem to hug your frame. While you aren’t as in shape as you used to be before you moved out on your own, at least your old outfits still fit.

As you press the elevator call button, you slide your hand down into the side pocket of your leggings, pulling out a headphone case before popping it open to stick the buds into your ears. You snap the case shut just as the doors slide open, shoving the item back into your pocket as you step inside, fiddling with your phone to stream your favorite playlist from Spotify. As the low percussion of the music echoes in your eardrums, you can’t help but think back on the reasons why you haven’t been to the gym lately. 

The memory of your ex has a chill crawling up your spine as you recall the embarrassing breakup you endured at your old local gym. You used to work out there almost every day until one day he drove all the way to meet you just to end things publicly in front of all your old gym mates. You scoff at the recollection, remembering how the truth of the matter was that he was being unfaithful and chose someone else over you. You roll your eyes, deciding it was time to get back on your feet and enjoy one of your favorite stress relievers. 

As the elevator reveals the main lobby of your complex, you confidently stride down the lavish corridors through the vast amenities. You recall seeing the entrance of the gym the day you went down to the pool, following in your footsteps as you notice a glass door with gym equipment on the opposite side. You smile, tugging open the door and realizing that there was not a soul in sight, meaning you’d get to enjoy the facility in peace and quiet. 

Your apartment keys and access fobs are dangling around your wrist as you gently slide them from their place, finding a small perch beside a window to place the items alongside your water bottle. You couldn’t ask for a better setup to enjoy your first workout as a fully functional and self-sufficient adult. You grin as your playlist morphs into a more energetic beat, causing your lips to tug into a smile as you locate a large padded area for stretching off to the side. “Perfect.” You hum as you slowly make your way over, swinging your arms out to the side to begin stretching. 

Once you’ve arrived at the mat, you gently spread your feet apart before lowering yourself into a lunge position. You can feel the dull ache behind your legs as various muscles bend and stretch beneath your movements. You carefully turn your hips out so that you're in a side lunge before bending forward to touch the ground, elongating your legs as you stretch the back of your hamstrings. Just as you complete the stretch, you hear a door open, alongside a loud whistle behind you over the soft music playing in your ears.

“Damn, princess.”  You freeze, dropping your waist down so that you’re squatting like a frog as you hear Jungkook’s voice from behind you. You close your eyes for a moment, wishing that you were just hearing things and that Jungkook was just a figment of your imagination. You pull out one of your earbuds, glancing back in his direction over your shoulder. “What a view.” He comments brazenly in reference to your ass being perked up in the air. 

You huff in disbelief, rotating your body till you find yourself sitting on the floor to conceal any view he may have of your plump backside. “Did I ever mention that you’re a pig?” You groan, which only seems to tug a smile onto his lips as he shrugs his shoulders. 

“Once or twice.” He grins as he turns your eyes to find him towering over you. You notice a loose muscle shirt that drapes over his frame deliciously, exposing the entirety of his tattooed sleeve. His body is glistening with sweat, a clear indication that he’s already been here working out before you arrived. Your eyes scan the gym, noticing a vastly different gym bag from the one you were accustomed to being tucked away in the corner of the facility. 

“I didn’t know anyone was here.” You admit shyly, knowing you would have never begun to stretch if you would have known he’d be walking out from the locker rooms and sauna otherwise. “I didn’t smell your gym bag.” You can’t help but chuckle as you recall placing a piece of fish into it. While it might have been an incredibly childish gesture on your part, it also brought you a stupid amount of joy. 

Jungkook chuckles darkly as he moves around you, turning his attention to a power tower tucked back in the corner where his bag was. “Had to get a new one.” His tone is not as amused by that statement, offering you a glare as he presses his back against the power tower, leaning his elbows onto the padded sections before pushing up off the ground and utilizing his arm strength to hold himself up. 

You grin mischievously, glad to know that your little present for him left quite a negative impression. “Oops,” You shrug unapologetically as you tentatively stretch your legs back out into a side split as you slowly walk your torso down to press into the mat between your legs. You peer up through your lashes to find Jungkook watching your movements carefully, his gaze flicking away from yours as he starts lifting his legs up straight in front of him to work the muscles in his abdomen. 

With each rise of his legs, he lets out a soft strained groan as he skillfully repeats the motion, tucking the entirety of his bottom lip into his mouth as his jaw flexes under his motions. You feel your face flush with heat as the same explicit sounds echo through the gym, causing your body to swelter with heat. 

The flex of his muscles is visible through the fabric of his shirt as his arms strain to keep him up in place, his body continuing to crunch his abdominal muscles in half each time his legs are brought up to his waist. You glance away, trying not to be distracted by his sinfully attractive physique as you begin rolling your ankles in circles to prepare for your run on the treadmill. 

You push yourself up, making your way slowly toward the treadmill as you keep your eyes averted from Jungkook, knowing any more glances would have you drooling over his fit frame. While the man himself was annoying as can be, his flesh was definitely a feast for the eyes. 

The earbud you pulled from your ear earlier is nestled in your palm as you focus your energy on ignoring the lustful sights and sounds happening on the opposite side of the room, chewing your bottom lip gently as you drown out his grunts with the sound of your music once more. You make quick work of stepping onto the treadmill, elevating the pace until your feet are promenading at a brisk walk.

Thankfully, your music manages to help you completely forget about Jungkook working out beside you, getting lost in your concentration as you slowly continue raising the speed of the tread beneath your feet. Time seems to pass by quickly, your eyes shifting toward the display to find that you’ve already been running for roughly five minutes, a smile gracing your lips as pride seeps through your chest. You’re maintaining a decent pace, the music in your eardrums only amping your energy to keep going. 

Unfortunately, your distractions prevent you from noticing that Jungkook finished his reps as he slowly stalks towards you, admiring the way you effortlessly maintain your speed. He grins as he makes his way toward you, leaning his forearms against the front of the treadmill as his eyes bore into yours. 

You huff through your panted breaths, continuing your run without pause. “Can I help you?” You speak with irritation dripping from your lips, plucking out one of your headphones to see what he could possibly be annoying you about now. 

He leans into the machine, a look of false innocence glossing over those large doe eyes as he offers you a deceitful smile. “Just admiring.” He speaks softly, your heart skipping at the thought of Jungkook actually saying something nice for once. You simply stare at him, unsure of how to respond as his eyes glance up and down your frame, suddenly feeling suffocated under his stare. It’s exactly the type of distraction that derails your focus as he slickly moves his hand around the treadmill console, pressing his finger down on the acceleration arrow as he watches you suddenly pick up the pace to run even faster to keep up with the changes. He releases the bottom before quickly turning around to seek out an overhead bar to do some pull-ups.

“JK!” You holler, keeping up to the best of your ability before the speed becomes too much for your endurance level. You press your palms against the side rails as you push up to allow your feet the opportunity to find the sides of the machine, resting as the carpet continues zooming past your feet. Your gaze shifts down to make sure you don’t faceplant as a malicious chuckle escapes Jungkook’s lips, relishing in the small victory against you. 

You could practically see the steam seeping from your ears as you watch him pull himself up until his chin passes the bar overhead, repeating the motion as if he didn’t just sabotage your workout. You narrow your eyes at him, feeling every ounce of pettiness surface from deep within your core. Why did he have to be so fucking annoying? 

You click the stop button on the treadmill, watching the machine slow down as you pull your phone from your pocket, pausing your music. If he wanted to play dirty, you would happily reciprocate the favor. You step down from the platform, taking quick steps towards Jungkook, watching his facial features strain with each pull-up, your mind hopelessly imagining him in a more intimate setting. Get a grip, you want revenge, not a sex partner. 

“I could have gotten hurt.” You protest as Jungkook finds your gaze in the mirror, continuing his exercise despite his back being turned to you.

“But you didn’t.” He states simply through his heavy breathing, letting himself fall back down to his feet. He takes a moment to catch his breath before turning around to face you, hovering just a few inches from your face. “Don’t be dramatic, princess.” He teases, raising his eyebrows playfully as you continue to glare at him with annoyance. 

He doesn’t allow you a moment to refute, turning back around and jumping up to grab ahold of the bar, continuing his pull-ups as if you weren’t just behind him. Your face morphs with vexation as Jungkook ignores you, your irritation bubbling over as you reach forward and instinctually grab the edge of his basketball shorts. Without thinking, or hesitating for that matter, you tug down on the fabric, exposing a pair of fitting Calvin Klein boxer briefs beneath the material. 

“What the fuck?” You hear him protest as he releases the bar, stumbling back to his feet as he quickly reaches down to pull up his shorts. He quickly turns to face you. “Are you crazy?” He argues back, hurrying to cover his indecency as another resident walks past the corridor, witnessing the sight of Jungkook frantically adjusting his shorts.

You were expecting to create an embarrassing scene to get him back for his petty pranks, however, you find the view is far less embarrassing than you imagine. Your eyes drop down his chiseled waist as you notice a sizable bulge tucked behind the fabric. You feel more embarrassed than anything else as your cheeks become crimson at the sight, completely flustered by the sight of his almost naked body. “Shit.” You whisper to yourself as you follow his gaze to spot the oncoming patron, giggling softly as Jungkook’s eyes flash with anger. 

“You’re going to get me kicked out. I hope it was worth the peep show, you perv.” He snaps sharply, pressing his teeth together as his jaw clenches.

You shrug your shoulders, “Eh, there wasn’t much to see.” 

It’s as if your words infuriate him further as he lets out a breathy chuckle, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “Nothing, my ass.” He practically growls before taking a few steps closer to you, strangling you beneath his stare. He narrows his eyes, fully knowing that you blatantly check him out whenever he’s moderately exposed. The sight of you in your leggings and tank top is a difficult sight to ignore, knowing it aided in his member being slightly harder than usual. He was certain you experienced quite the show. His lips soften from the tight line that invades his handsome features as he gestures to the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got a little drool right there.”

You laugh at his notion even though subconsciously you without a doubt devoured the sight of his bare thighs and deliciously carved hips. “Don’t flatter yourself.” You scoff as you cross your arms against your chest. Somehow your efforts to embarrass him ended with the attention back on you. 

“Someone’s in denial.” The cocky grin that stretches over his lips causes your blood to boil as he flicks his tongue over his piercing. You narrow your eyes, glaring at him as he simply clicks his piercing between his teeth, his smug demeanor sending you over the edge. He turns around to make his way toward the bench press, sitting down to continue his workout. 

You stomp your foot in frustration as you turn around to collect your belongings from the window ledge. This was absurd. You couldn’t even get back at him without him turning things back on you. You let out a groan at the realization that there is now no way you can finish your workout without having to continue putting up with Jungkook. “Whatever.”

You don’t offer him the satisfaction of another glare, quickly making your way out of the gym and escaping to the elevators. The walk down the corridor as you visualize Jungkook more than you care to admit as you bring your water bottle up to your lips to suck out the cool liquid. It’s not long until you find the elevator lobby, pressing the call light quickly, desperate to return to your apartment. 

Once you find yourself alone, secured in the confinement of the elevator, you lean back against the wall as you fan yourself with your hand to try and distract yourself from the events that just unfolded. Jungkook was proving to be a problem in more ways than one. 

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #bts smut

[autisticmao]

GENRE: i don't know... neutral ig? | first pov!

FEATURED: joel - expected.

WARNINGS: ooc

PROMPT: there's this man in etho's dreams, but he can't figure out why he is there

WORD COUNT: 890

Whenever I slept, I always had the same dream. It was of a male. The same male.

A male with brunette hair, a kelly green streak striking through his strands, umber eyes that glowed unwildly.

He always did the same thing.

He guided me to a table - a table that sat in a void, a void of nothingness. It was just us and that table. He would let me sit down on one chair first. The pillows of the chairs were soft, comforting to the point that you could easily sink into its fabric and wish to never leave it.

Then, the male with the kelly green streak would sit down at the other end, fiddling with the cream coloured cloth that sat atop of the hand-made tables rough surface, situating the folds and the corners to a smooth point for only just a minute, until he quietly hums to himself in approvement then he leans one arm onto the table. Elbow against cloth, his chin rest lightly, cupped in the palm of one of his hands.

His umber eyes strikes with piercing emotions I could never quite decipher, there was an edge to them I didn't quite understand, an unrecognisable feeling that didn't really sit well in my heart.

His lips would move. Words flow majestically like someone reading the most perfect poetry imaginable. But I could never hear what he was saying, except his words made my heart beat... in fear? Excitement? Sadness, or anger? I wasn't sure.

I was never sure, and I doubt these repeated dreams would ever let me be so. But by reading the movements of his lips, I can only see the pronunciation of my name. "Etho," he always called out.

It made me curious to what stories this stranger I thought I didn't know was saying, always causing me to lean forward in my seat, yet as I do, in synchronisation like the tidal waves of the sea, he moves back against his seat further more.

Arms then crossing over one another, a grin - one that would be unsettling to most, but in a strange way, I would find it comforting in a sickening sense that no person should - rests comfortable along his facial features.

This male would laugh minutes afterwards. Head rising up, leaning against the chair rest. His figure jolts to the chorus of his laughter. I would always wonder what exactly his laugh sounded like. Was it nice? Or perhaps was it manic? There are so many pitches that this male could possibly pull through by just his looks and actions.

By the time his laughter calms like the ocean during summer hours, he would have a hand beside him, his focus reels next to him, and his lips would move like as though he was talking to someone. Whenever I looked over, no one was there.

It was just us, the table set, and this lonesome void. Nothing and nobody else existed. No memories and no places to be.

It was us, and just us...

At that same time, food would appear on the table. The man with the kelly green streak would push a plate towards me, an assortment of food lies piled up so neatly. Meat and vegetables coloured together like the most beautiful art piece you can ever land your eyes upon. I was almost always too scared to pick up a fork and eat it, ruining the precious patterns.

The smell always reeled me in either way. Each smell was fresh and better than the previous bites I dig into, same with the tasts, and as I eat, I look up to see the same man joining me. The way he eats his food always makes me want to laugh. This male who gave off the vibes of a king, or perhaps a deity, was suddenly washed upon like a young child, tending to separate individual food with one another, giving looks of disgust to one half of his plate whilst the other half he couldn't help but dig in and eat very messily with.

That grin of his softened as soon as the fork met his tongue. His eyes would scrunch closed. The look reminded me of a puppy when they get head pats in the morning.

Perhaps I found it cute. Something that seems uncharacteristically for this male I dreamed of quite often.

And when food time was over, so was the dream. I could feel my body move without control, I try every time to pull at the strings of my body to sit back down. I wanted to learn more about this man I dream of every time I close my eyes to sleep.

My head would knock towards his. The male would wave at me, and I sent the same gesture back. He would say a short sentence to me. A sentence of three words or perhaps it four or five, but I never know what they quite were nor what was it I ever replied with back to the man, because by then, time is up, and I would awaken once again to begin my day and long for the dream that never seems to change.

I see this man in my dreams, but I can never find out the explanation as to why he is always there.

#oneshot #character joel and character etho #joel smallishbeans #ethoslab #ethoslab fanfiction #smallishbeans fanfiction #smalletho fanfic #smalletho #smallishbeans #double life #hermitcraft #hermitcraft 10

[theysaidhush]

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Chapter 2: Never meet your idol.

Tic. Tock.

It was the only sound in the otherwise empty room Athéna was sitting in. She was vaguely - to not say hyper - aware of the place she was in. It was Bang Christopher Chan's studio. As in, the leader of Stray Kids, the hot topic between the trainees who aspired to be just like him. Successful.

And she was no exception to the rule. He was a role model and she quite enjoyed some of their musics. She wouldn't call herself a Stay, though, regarding the fact that she was lacking in the 'know-your-idols' department. She knew their names, their position, and that they were hot as hell. Like everyone she stumbled across them in JYP's corridor, greeted them politely. But she was another face, she didn't expect them to recognize her.

Muffled voice interrupted her train of thought and she looked up from the expensive equipment on the desk before the couch, her mouth still slightly agape at the mere idea of the cost of those things.

Saying that she was nervous would be an understatement - she was almost vibrating due to her nervousness and the anxious back and forth motion that her legs were making in front of her, as if it had its own mind. But the sight of Stray Kids' manager - that she met a few times before to discuss her stay in the group - was enough to ease her worry. A bit.

Another silhouette followed him into the room. Smaller, but broader. There he was. The famous, friendly and attractive Aussie public known as Chan. She was delighted. She was frightened. She was looking expectant.

"Miss."

Only for one of her role model to ignore her ans sit on the chair. The producer's chair. The master's chair. It was fitting him well enough.

"Hi! Nice to meet you, my name is Athéna and I'm looking forward to working with you!"

Her outburst and bubbly giggles at the sight of their little jump almost made Chan regret his decision. Almost.

"Nice to meet you to."

Again, Chan did not utter a word. The young woman was looking thoroughly at his facial features and expression. He was tired, that much she could tell, but it was actually the only thing she could tell. He was good at looking at the ceiling with a blank face. He must have been practicing to be that good. It was admirable, since Athéna herself could not do such thing. She was 'an open book' - her friend's words, not hers.

"Do you have the contract? Did you read it, as instructed?"

She hummed in a sing-song toned and carefully, with both hands, handed the stack of papers to the man cladded in a suit. It was such a formal outfit for something so... basic. Since he was busy reading through the documents, she took the opportunity to take a better look at the man who would be his manager in a matter of days.

His apparence was not fancy looking at all, despite the fact that he was wearing a suit. Her eyes trailed over his whole body - in a respectful way, thank you very much, and her eyes scrutinized his shirt during a whole minute. Something was bothering her. Why did she not considered him as being dress 'fancily' despite the fact that he was wearing the whole attire of the business man.

And it clicked! Her mouth open, forming a small round shape as she laid back on the couch, her round eyes trailing toward the ceiling. His shirt was not ironed - in fact it was a bit wrinkled here and there, but she was no one to judge.

Tic. Tock.

"How well can you talk in Korean?"

"Like a high schooler. With lot of slangs and all, that's the first thing you memorize when you learn a language." she chipped, her eyes darting toward the flickering light of Chan's phone. Was he playing a game?

Well he wasn't anymore. His and the manager's eyes were fixated on her, a bit unsettled at the way she was behaving. She was being questioned about her future, wasn't it important enough for her to just answer politely and appropriately? Not that she was impolite anyway, her talk was just a bit...unusual.

"They said that I'll have to take classes. I mean, I definitely see where they're coming from, not gonna lie. But they could have been nicer about it!"

She was on the verge of whining but hold her composure. They were questioning her about her future, so she had to behave. And she was trying really hard! To the point that she was quite proud of herself.

"The higher ups?" The manager asked, flipping through the last page of the contract. At that, Chan's head perked up from his game - yes he do was playing Flappy Bird, she would recognize that bird anywhere. She hates that game. It requires a patience that she can't have.

"Yes. They're not very talkative. They say lot of things. Little that I understand and even little more that I want to understand." she answered vaguely, her voice dropping an octave and her usual cheerful voice disappearing for a minute.

"Your Korean is not that bad. But you couldn't hold a conversation."

"Am I not?"

It flew past her lips before she could even stop it. It wasn't mean, sarcastic, ironic or such thing - which surprised Chan, who had tighten his grip around his phone before looking up at her dumbfounded face. She seemed genuine. Like she really wanted to hear the answer to her question. Or she was dumb. Or playing dumb. And she was good at it.

Mean thoughts, mean thoughts!

Chan wouldn't allow himself to be mean to someone just because he was upset. It was a big no no. Yet, he stil find himself attached to his phone the very first minute he entered the room. The minute his eyes landed on her face he had wanted to scream, yell his lungs out and break a thing or two; and he wasn't a violent man - now imagine if he was.

As if putting a female in their group wasn't enough, she had to be a foreigner. God bless the foreigner, he wasn't racist either. She could have been asian, it was almost the bare minimum to debut in a K-pop group - or at least hope to. But she had big, round, wavering eyes flitting from thing to another in a matter of seconds. They put a damn female in his, in their group, and she was a foreigner.

It was the reason he was trying so hard to beat his own record at flappy bird - but it seems like this bird is too stupid to go beyond eleven pillars, and he's even more upset now. He did not wanted to lash out on her, but he couldn't bring himself to talk to her either.

"I mean -" the manager fidgeted on his seat, trying to pick up the next words carefully, she was a smartass, and he did not want to be upset over such a topic "You couldn't hold a conversation about music, could you ? Like, explaining in details why you chose to do a thing over another thing - artistic choice."

"Oh." Athéna nodded before agreeing, "No I couldn't."

"That's why you'll take Korean classes."

"Okay!"

Scratch that, she wasn't a smartass. She was just a bit lost - and maybe high on life.

"Anything else you want to discuss?"

"Hum."

Tic. Tock.

As she was, once again, looking at the ceiling, raking her brain for any questions of any remarks she wanted to make, the manager - she should really ask for his name, nudge Chan with his elbow and gave him the document with a sharp glare meaning 'read it'.

The latter hold back a huff but eventually opened the first page, wanting to get it done fast.

Yellow! Green! Orange!

Chan's eyes got attacked by the amount of post-it stuck here and there, at every corner and on every page. He screw up his eyes, trying to get a better look at the messy writing hidden among drawings of puppies and kittens. But he eventually managed not to get lost in the pet's haven and his brows furrowed at the words written on the paper. He expected it to be small notes about things she wanted to point out or questions that was running in circles in her mind but it was none of that. He was overwhelmed by the huge amount of vocabulary words translated in... well another language. Now, on top of being upset, he was feeling concerned for the girl absentmindedly playing with the hem of her sweater.

"Did you translate all of that by yourself?"

"Yes. It took me some time actually. I'm way better at talking Korean than reading it and there was lot of words that I did know, just not said that politely, if it makes sense?"

Chan did not answer and his gaze flickered for a second towards her rocking legs before going back to the contract.

"Are you sure that you understood all of it?"

"Well, I hope WordReference did."

How could she be so - so uncaring about the whole situation! The Australian was beyond upset but he did not knew exactly why. Was it because she was not giving a fuck about the predicament she was putting them in? Was he mad at those damn shareholder for not giving her the appropriate tools to understand such thing as an employment contract? Or was it because a small part of him - the green part he hated so much, was a bit envious at her? She was so easy-going.

"Do you think they'll make me cut my hair if I say that it doesn't grow well after being cut?"

"I - I don't know?"

Tic. Tock.

"Do you think they'll force me to eat chicken breast for a whole week if I ate a burger the day before?"

"Maybe?"

Chan wanted to save his discountenanced manager, he really did. But the two words in front of him were taunting him. Inked in the paper, with Athéna's signature just under it. Sealed in fate. Now, he was sure that they were trying to fuck them up.

Duration of the contract: One year.

"That's so dumb."

And the French woman's gaze turned toward her future leader's face, contorted with a smile. But not a happy one. And as he rose his eyes to meet hers - for the first time since he crossed the door, she felt like a ice bucket as been thrown at her, and that said bucket hit her right in the head. There was a saying...

His rage was swimming in his eyes like snakes in a pond; and the clock stopped ticking.

Oh, she remembers it now: never meet your idol.

⭑⭑⭑⭒⭒

=⭒ Chapter 3

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids x oc #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #poly!stray kids #poly!skz

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi Dear !

I love your work, like, it's so good !

Could you do one with a curvy reader x Thomas Shelby ? (And with short hair, like a Peaky cut, but longer at the top)

Like she is naturally nice and kind to everyone. But she would do anything to protect the family while always being nice (I mean, she don't use bad terms (sorry if it don't mean anything, English isn't my first language 😅)). Thomas love her for being so amazing

Thank you !

Love you ❤️

Hey Anon, Thank you for waiting so long! Hope you enjoy this one. It's a bit on the darker side which I hope is alright.

Warnings: Reader is assaulted (not descriptive just unwanted touching) Violent murder of problematic peaky characters because I'm bitter.

You kept the sides of your curly hair as short as possible leaving a very unfeminine angle to your facial features or at least that's what people told you. It was unsettling and created too much of a contrast with your very feminine curves. You rolled your eyes and looked at yourself in the mirror and thought about the last time your hair was shoulder-length...

You would have been about 13. Just barely a woman and no matter how hard you tried to stay away from them you would always find yourself back with the Shelby boys. That cold day down by the cut, one of the girls from school wanted to prank you and cut off a massive piece of your hair. Tommy being 4 years older and infinitely cooler, decided there was only one way to fix it. People never gave you a hard time over it knowing whose hand was responsible for the cut. 

Your initial reaction was burning hate,  but seeing that he liked it was enough to make you forget it. Soon enough the hair came with a very safe place amongst the boys and endless troublemaking. 

Fast forward what felt like a million years you sat on the edge of the bathtub in your fancy bathroom and lit a cigarette. 

Looking out the window the sun was almost down and it was just about time to get ready. You looked over the soft red fabric of the dress hanging on the back of the door. You tried to think of a way to escape the evening, but you wouldn’t leave Thomas or the family in such a state. 

After a few more drags of your cigarette, you finally put it out and got to work. It didn't take you too long to get ready looking in the mirror you were very happy with the way the shimmery fabric clung to your curves. Adding a large diamond necklace Tommy had gifted you it was time to get downstairs. 

You looked over everything satisfied with the arrangements. You gave a sigh as you looked over the room, for once the type of people it was built for would be in your home. You clenched your fists struggling with the task before you. Normally your role in the blinders was to do what you did best of all. Talk to people. You had a way of making people tell you all their secrets and fears. You’d been able to reason and care for people ultimately saving them from destruction. It annoyed Thomas more than anything and yet it was a skill that benefitted his efforts most of all.

A strong arm wrapped around your waist pulling you from your thoughts. 

“It’s just a room, love.” He whispered in your ear and you relaxed against his frame. 

“I don’t want to do this Tom.” 

“I’ll let you renovate it then, eh? Soon as this is over you can fix it -” 

“You know that’s not -” You whispered shaking your head. 

“I know.” He whispered in your ear placing a kiss on your temple. This was not the time to talk about the things weighing on your heart. He held you there for a moment letting you breathe. 

Then the chaos started. John and Arthur showed up looking grim and mildly annoyed. They were to be on the property but not at the actual dinner. 

“You look nice,” John said giving you a weak smile. Arthur’s eyes told you all you needed to know. They were as miserable and angry about this as you were. 

“We’ll make sure nothing bad breaks out,” Arthur said in a low voice and you gave him a nod of thanks. They went to wherever they were to be stationed for the evening. 

You took a deep breath, every body was human at the end of the day. You could save these people. Bring them to the light. Like everyone they just need a little kindness. 

They were a half hour late and you bit back your bitterness at the way his hands lingered on your skin. 

“What a lovely wife you have here Thomas.” His dark eyes studied you and there was nothing soft about his words. “Heard lots about you over the years.” Oswald then introduced his new wife. Diana looked too much like all of Grace’s worst qualities. Acid burned in your veins and you pushed it down to introduce yourself. 

They went right into business wasting no time on pleasantries. Something you were initially grateful for, hoping that it would speed up the meeting. 

Your initial plan of all anyone needs is some kindness and good words were thrown out the window when things moved to the sitting room. Oswald insisted on sitting next to you on the sofa, and you watched as Diana’s eyes devoured your husband. 

You would do anything for your family. You repeated the thought over and over hoping it would push the obvious sight from your mind. 

Listening politely and trying to find a way to get a word into the conversation your hand found a very lucky prize tucked into the couch cushions. 

Your fingers brushed the cold metal and you remembered Polly opening letters the morning before. It being there gave you the slightest bit of comfort. 

Then the obvious but also unthinkable happened. His hands were running up your leg towards your hip. In all your life, in all these situations this was one thing that was never a possibility. A man touching you in your husband's presence. 

The realization of the power these two had over him felt like a punch. Goosebumps covered your skin and you watched as Diana made her move on Tommy. 

“Your eyes look so surprised, surly you've done this before?” his mustache tickled your ear and something broke inside you. 

Thomas had led you through some dark things, but nothing so dark that your light couldn't shine through and remedy the situation. People in need always won the battles you and he staged. 

Did Thomas know this was the plan? You were hesitant enough about dinner, so why bother telling you this was where things were headed? 

Maybe he wanted to sleep with her?

All the horrid words that were spoken over dinner hit you in full force as his mustache tickled your neck. Wet lips slobbering on you. Without care if the world ended your fingers clutched the letter opener, and the next thing you knew it was firmly embedded in his neck. 

He made a terrible sound and you were covered in blood. A gun shot rang out and you abruptly stood up. 

“OH GOSH oh my - gosh - Mother of gosh - sweet freaking gosh. I - I Oh my gosh.” Arms were wrapped around you and you realized it was Arthur. He picked you up like you weighed nothing and carried you out of the room. 

“She almost cussed that time,” John said as if impressed. 

“FUCK SAKE - EVERYTHING IS F- FUCKED.” The sound of a lamp smashing was quickly silenced by the heavy wood of the kitchen door. 

“Stay here, love.” Arthur gave you a pat on the back and placed a bottle of whiskey in front of you. He made a phone call in the hallway before returning to your shouting husband. 

An unknown amount of time passed before you felt Polly’s weathered hands grabbing your shoulders. 

“Let's get you cleaned off.” All you could do was nod. 

Polly took you up to the room she claimed as hers when she stayed over and got you into the bath. She scrubbed all the blood off of you as you shook. Eventually, she rinsed you one last time before filling the tub up with clean water. 

“What happened?” She asked as she pushed the curls from your forehead. 

“Polly I-I-I can do it. You know. I’ve always been able to fix things and wow people. Try to bring them to the light, and change their minds about their horrible choices. In my head, we are always the good guys.” You took a few deep breaths. “But they were just. Really awful. I’d do anything for the family Pol I would and I have. I just - gosh -  his hands were all over me and she just kissed him.” You were still in disbelief that your husband would put you in such a situation. 

“That wasn't supposed to be the plan.” She whispered running her thumb across your cheek. Her eyes held a pain in them that you immediately wanted to take away.  

“then my fingers sunk into the space between the armrest and the cushion, and your letter opener had fallen through. I grabbed it and just snapped-” 

“You did what Tommy couldn’t. Don’t feel anything about it. He’d been after them for months, all of this was to set up some big event to take him out. Either way, he was going to die at the hands of a Shelby.” She shrugged. “Might as well have been my letter opener.” 

Tears started to prickle in the corners of your eyes. This wasn't who you were. You didn't kill people or deviate from plans - 

“Sometimes death is a kindness.” She kissed your forehead and you let the words sink in. Somehow you doubted that Brittian would miss him or Diana. 

Getting dressed you had a moment of realization. There was one other man that you knew relatively well… the man that dragged Thoams into this mess in the first place. 

You dialed the phone number and did what you did best. Chatted. 

When you came downstairs you saw everyone in the kitchen looking positively worn from the night's events. Thomas looked at you and immediately motioned for you to come sit on his lap. You stood at the head of the table. 

“Alright, once I was thinking clearly again.” You cleared your throat. “ I had the realization that a friend owed me a favor for something ages ago. Everything here is sorted.” 

“What kind of favor?”  - “Who?”  Tommy and Arthur asked at the same time. 

“Well doesn't matter what happened, but a while back I helped clear something up for Mr.Churchhill so I thought I’d ring him and see what he thought about all this-” 

“At this hour-” “You don’t call in favours-” John and Arthur started talking over each other while Tommy gave you a hard stare. 

“What kind of favor is that big?” Tommy asked in a low voice. 

“Like I said I can’t really say. All you need to know is everything is fine. People will be by in the morning for the bodies.” 

The thought of not having to dig holes in the middle of winter seemed to win John and Arthur over. Tommy looked put out over the situation and for once you enjoyed holding all the cards close to your chest. For once everyone else can drown in the mystery and do what they're told. 

You came over and sat on his lap. His fingers curl tightly into your skin. He had a lot of explaining to do before you would forgive him, but his grip on you let you know he wasn't happy with the situation. 

After drinks and everyone seemed sure you were alright the boys headed home and Polly went upstairs to bed. You expected his mood to turn sour and for him to cuss you out. Instead, he just rested his head on your chest. Without thought, your hand went to brush along the side of his head. 

His grip didn’t loosen and he gave out a shaky breath. Suddenly you realized that this had most certainly not been the plan, you got hurt, had to do awful things, and then go off and fix the situation. His plan failed and put you in danger. He was ashamed. 

Not something you’d ever noticed before. Part of you wanted to hear him say it, and apologize. Then you realized his embrace was enough. Knowing he was afraid and seeking comfort in you was enough. 

“I-” 

“Don’t I don't mind. It’s handled that’s the main thing.” You said firmly wanting more than anything to put this mess behind you. You expected that to be the end but he only nodded and went back to holding you. No other sound other than the fire crackling. 

You thought back over all the things the two of you had been through over the years. You knew that this would simply fade into the tapestry along with all the other hard stuff.

#Tommy shleby #Thomas shelby #Tommy shleby x reader #Thomas shelby x reader #Shelby family #Shelby family fic #Peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #Tommy shelby imagine #Tommy shelby request #Tommy shelby fic #thomas shelby imagine #Thomas shelby request #thomas shelby fanfic

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 363. brb x oc

a/n: so sorry for not posting yesterday i was very tired uwu (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

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-

Of everything Beatrice expected when she entered the café, the last thing was what Evelyn just said. In fact, she was still staring at her friend with her mouth agape, in pure raw shock, “What??”

Evelyn didn’t look less worried, “I know.”

“What??”

“I know,I know.” she whispers, “I know, I wanted to talk to you before…before Rooster knew.”

Beatrice frowned, “I’m…confused, why did—okay,hold on, back up.” she rubs her eyes, “This…guy, he said he’s Rooster’s uncle?”

Evelyn nodded solemnly, her expression grave. "Yes, that's what he claimed," she confirmed, her voice hushed. " He said his name was John, and he claimed to be Rooster's uncle."

Beatrice's mind reeled at Evelyn's words, her thoughts swirling with confusion and disbelief. "But that doesn't make any sense," she exclaimed, her voice tinged with frustration. "Rooster's family is small, and he's never mentioned an uncle named John before."

"I know," Evelyn replied, her brow furrowing with concern. "That's why I wanted to talk to you before saying anything to Rooster. I didn't want to cause unnecessary drama if it turned out to be a misunderstanding."

"Did he say why he was looking for Rooster?"

Evelyn's expression darkened at the memory. "He claimed to have some urgent family matter to discuss with him," she explained, her voice tinged with skepticism. "But something about his demeanor seemed off. He was...pushy, almost aggressive."

“...Rooster’s dad was an only child.” Bea mutters, “And…Carole’s siblings were named…uhhh…Rachel and Ted? Maybe? Who the hell is this John? And he contacted your dad? How the hell did he manage to contact a vice-admiral???”

"I don't know," Evelyn admitted, her voice tinged with worry. "But my dad seemed concerned when he received the call. He said he would look into it and get back to me."

Beatrice nodded, her mind racing with questions and concerns. "I…don't like this," she murmured, her voice filled with apprehension. "It feels...so off."

"I agree," she said softly, her gaze filled with sympathy. "But we'll figure it out together, okay? We won't let anything happen to Rooster."

“Nothing will happen to Rooster.” Beatrice narrowed her eyes, “...what did he look like? Did he even look like…Rooster?”

Evelyn paused, her brow furrowing in concentration as she recalled the encounter. "He...kind of resembled Rooster, I guess," she replied slowly, "But there was something...off about him. He had the same build and facial features, but his eyes...they were different. "

Beatrice's heart sank at Evelyn's description, "That's unsettling," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't like the sound of this at all."

"I know," Evelyn agreed, her expression grim. "That's why I wanted to tell you right away. I didn't want to keep it from you, especially since Rooster’s promotion is coming up and all…”

"Thank you for telling me," she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude. "I appreciate it more than you know."

Evelyn reached out, squeezing Beatrice's hand "Of course, Bea," she replied, her voice gentle. "So…what do you want to do?”

Beatrice sighed, her mind racing with worry. She knew she couldn't ignore the situation, but she also didn't want to jump to conclusions without knowing all the facts. "We need to find out who this John really is," Beatrice said firmly, "And we need to do it discreetly. I don't want to alarm Rooster unnecessarily until we have all the information."

Evelyn nodded in agreement, her eyes shining with determination. "I'll talk to my dad and see if he can look into it further," she offered, her voice filled with resolve. "He has connections that could help us get to the bottom of this."

"Thank you, Ev," Beatrice replied gratefully, squeezing Evelyn's hand in appreciation. "Let me know as soon as you find out anything."

"Will do," Evelyn promised, giving Beatrice a reassuring smile. "And in the meantime, we'll keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

"I'm going to check on Rooster," Beatrice said, "I need to make sure he's okay. He’s at home with the kids and Mav but–"

Evelyn nodded in understanding, her expression filled with empathy. "I'll let you know if I hear anything from my dad," she promised, her voice gentle. "And Bea? Don't worry too much. We'll get to the bottom of this."

"Thanks, Ev," Beatrice replied softly, offering her friend a grateful smile. "I appreciate you being here for me."

With a final hug, Beatrice and Evelyn parted ways, and Beatrice didn’t know what to do…she had to figure this out in…three days. Which wasn't a lot of time at all but that was the time until Rooster’s promotion ceremony.

She walks to her jeep and groans, hitting her forehead gently against the door in frustration, “We get no breaks, no breaks at all.” it was like the universe wanted to see how far they’d go for each other.

She’d go beyond for Rooster and their family but they really needed a break.

As Beatrice drove home she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach, gnawing at her with each passing moment. Despite her efforts to remain calm, the situation with this mysterious John weighed heavily on her mind.

When she finally arrived home, Beatrice found Rooster in the living room, surrounded by their children and Mav. He was engaged in an animated conversation with Mav and Beatrice's heart swelled with warmth at the sight of her husband and their family together. 

"Hey, gorgeous," Rooster greeted her with a bright smile as she entered the room, his eyes lighting up with affection. "How was the meeting with Ev, everything okay?"

Beatrice forced a smile, doing her best to push aside her worries for the time being. "It was…fine," she replied vaguely, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "How about you? How was …uh…here?"

Rooster's smile faltered slightly at the change in Beatrice's demeanor, his brow furrowing with concern. "It was good," he replied cautiously, his gaze searching hers for any sign of what was bothering her. "Did something happen?"

Beatrice hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much she should reveal to Rooster. She didn't want to worry him unnecessarily, but she also knew that keeping secrets from him wasn't the right approach either.

"Actually, there's something I need to talk to you about," she began slowly, her voice trembling slightly. "But maybe we should wait until the kids are in bed for naptime…?"

Rooster's expression softened and he nodded in agreement. "Sure, whatever you need, gorgeous," he said gently, reaching out to squeeze her hand in reassurance. "We can talk after we put the kids to bed."

“Mav–Mav should stay…too.” she whispers, “It’s important that he stays.”

Beatrice's request caught Rooster by surprise, but he nodded in agreement nonetheless, "Of course," he replied, his voice steady despite the uncertainty gnawing at him. "Mav can stay. Whatever you need, Bea."

Mav, who had been listening quietly, nodded. "I'll be here," he affirmed, his tone serious. "Whatever it is, I can help kiddo"

With the decision made, Beatrice focused on putting the kids down for their nap, her mind already racing with thoughts of how to approach the situation with Rooster and Mav. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air.

Hey honey,so you got an uncle you don’t know about??

How does…this work???

Once the children were settled, Beatrice, Rooster, and Mav gathered in the living room,and Beatrice took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. "Okay," she began slowly, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside her. "I need to tell you both about something that happened today."

Rooster and Mav exchanged a glance, their expressions mirroring Beatrice's seriousness. "What is it, Bea?" Rooster asked gently, “You…look so worried,gorgeous.”

Beatrice swallowed hard, her throat feeling dry as she struggled to find the right words to convey the gravity of the situation. "W-Well, Ev told me that um…Ev told me that there's a man named John who's been asking about you" Beatrice finally managed to say, her voice trembling with apprehension. "He's been asking questions about you, Roos.”

Rooster's brows furrowed in concern as he absorbed Beatrice's words."Who?

“You don’t know any Johns?”

Rooster blinked, then scratched the back of his head, “I mean…” he frowns, “No? I had friends named Johns, but I don’t have any relatives named Johns.” he turns to Mav, “Is he a relative of dad? You’d know.”

Mav furrowed his brow, his expression thoughtful as he racked his brain for any information about a potential relative named John. After a moment of deep contemplation, he shook his head slowly. "No, Roos. I don't recall anyone by that name in his family," he replied, his tone serious. "But I can look into it if you want."

Rooster nodded, a troubled furrow marring his brow. "Yeah, please do," he said firmly, his voice tinged with concern. "I want to know who this guy is and why he's asking about me."

“He managed to talk to Evelyn’s dad.”

“He talked to Cyclone?” Mav asked, “How?”

She shrugs, “I dunno, I don’t know…how it’s possible??”

"If he's managed to speak to Cyclone, then he must have some connections."

Rooster's jaw clenched with frustration, "I don't like this," he admitted, his voice tight with tension. "I don't want some random guy asking questions about me and my family."

Mav rose from his seat, his expression grim. "I'll start looking into this John guy right away," he said firmly, his voice decisive. "If he's connected to Cyclone, we need to tread carefully." he pauses, “...what does this John looks like?”

The brunette blinked, “According to Ev he did look like Roos a bit…but not 100%...is it possible that Goose had anyone he hadn’t told you?” she asks the captain, “Or…well…I don’t know?”

Mav's expression grew even more serious at Beatrice's question. He furrowed his brows in deep thought, opened his mouth, then closed, then opened it again. "It's possible," he mused, "But Goose would never hide anything from me. Maybe he’s related to Carole?”

Rooster,maybe a mix of his own protectiveness and uncertainty, immediately brought Beatrice to sit on his lap so he could hug her, “...my mom only has two siblings.” he says, “I haven’t talked to them in years and my uncle’s name isn’t John.”

Beatrice sank into Rooster's embrace, feeling a rush of comfort wash over her as she nestled against him. She traced soothing circles on his back,"I don't like this, Roos," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if this John guy is dangerous?"

Rooster's arms tightened around Beatrice, "Hey, hey, don't worry, gorgeous," he said softly, his voice laced with determination. "We'll figure this out together. And if this guy poses a threat, I'll make sure he doesn't come anywhere near you or the kids."

“...I’ll call Cyclone.” Mav said, “Figure more stuff but, don’t worry, the two of you, you’ll have to worry about the promotion ceremony not this.”

The tension in the room eased slightly at Mav's words, and Beatrice offered him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Mav," she said softly, her voice filled with appreciation. "We really appreciate your help."

Mav nodded, a determined glint in his eyes. "Of course, Bea," he replied, his tone serious. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you and the kids safe. Now…is there anything else that Evelyn said besides that?”

Beatrice took a deep breath, her mind racing as she tried to recall everything Evelyn had told her about the encounter with John. "Um, well," she began slowly, "Ev said that John seemed...persistent. He kept asking questions about Rooster, even when she tried to brush him off."

Rooster's jaw tightened at, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "That's not good.”

Mav nodded in agreement, his expression grave. "Agreed," he said firmly, hands on his hips "I'll make some calls and see what I can find out about him. In the meantime, you two relax. I’m sure this can be easily resolved.”

"Okay," she replied softly, “Thank you Mav.”

With a nod of acknowledgment, Mav turned to leave the room, his footsteps echoing softly against the hardwood floor as he made his way to have some privacy on the phone call.

Once Mav was out of sight, Beatrice let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon her shoulders. She turned to Rooster, her eyes searching his face for any sign of reassurance.

Rooster met her gaze with a soft expression, his arms still wrapped protectively around her. "You okay?”

“Hrrmmmm…” she groans, “When are we going to have a break from this,Roos?”

Rooster brushed a gentle hand over Beatrice's hair, a tender smile gracing his lips. "I wish I could give you a break from all of this, gorgeous," he murmured, "But you know as well as I do that life doesn't always give us breaks when we need them most."

Beatrice nodded, leaning into Rooster's touch for comfort. "I know," she sighed, "It just feels like one thing after another lately, you know?"

Rooster's heart ached at the weariness in Beatrice's voice. He tightened his embrace around her, offering her the warmth and support she needed in that moment. "I know, baby," he whispered, his voice gentle. "I know.”

#im happy yall are still here #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

[millionyearhearts]

sebastian michaelis but him having no idea how to be human translates into his looks so while he can pretty much pull it off, there is still something unexplainably "off" about him, giving him almost an uncanny valley type look? like, he's undeniably beautiful and everyone wants to bang him but if u look a little too close or catch him when he's distracted (when hes not putting too much effort into maintaining his persona) or even just at first glance he has. some weirdly distorted features u can't rly put ur finger on

because how can he be so intimidating to so many characters? mf is a twink with a fat ass and a fringe i bet he'd make ppl giggle irl UNLESS he genuinely has a spooky smile or eyes that have no real light in them or facial expressions that contort in just the right way to be off-putting. like, brow sets just a little too heavy, gaze is blank and seems to trail into the distance, thin lips stretch into too wide of a smile, corners of his eyes don't crinkle, arms and legs that are just a little too long for comfort, completely smooth and unmarred lineaments that give him almost a waxy/mannequin-like skin texture...

weird shit!! not even terrifying, but deeply unnerving or unsettling to the point where a lot of people do not. want. to stand too close to this black-clad butler because. "why. do his eyes do that?? why does his jaw?? curve like th- that doesn't look- normal??"

the only one who doesn't notice it anymore is o!ciel (even tho he definitely did in the beginning) so sometimes the servants will confer with one another and try to explain how mr. sebastian looks *different* but they don't have the vocabulary or comprehension to really put it to words. all they can really say is that, despite how much they love the guy, they feel discomforted when he looks at them too long

ofc, after a while, everyone in the house gets used to it. every single creepy victorian porcelain doll child earl needs an uncanny valley inhuman wax statue creature thing by his side, right?

AND DONT GET ME WRONG SEBASTIAN AINT UGLY!! HES SEXY!!! we been knew!!! but. cmon man u mean to tell me that he. he looks. normal. no way he looks normal HE LOOKS WEIRD!!! spooky creepy "hey uh idk how i feel about going to the phantomhive manor again bc that butler squicks me out"!!!

gimme skinwalker sebastian 💥💳💥💳

#sebastian michaelis #kuroshitsuji #black butler

[akirasarchives]

[00] | 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: In a Spades game, you find yourself weirdly drawn to a concerningly relaxed man.

🂥 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟬𝟬: Five of Spades

TOEI SENDAGAYA APARTMENT

A large, grey apartment complex casts a shadow over its surroundings. Yellow lights flicker ominously, dimly lighting the twisting hallways that lay vacant. A small group of individuals stand idle on the steps just inches from the doorway leading into the eerie and most likely death-inducing building. They speak silently between each other, passing weary looks and judging stares, though they seem to outright ignore your obvious presence as they glance back down at their mobiles. You suppose you can’t blame them, as your figure is all but swallowed by the mere size of the complex.

A woman sporting athletic attire briskly jogs past you, taking no time to accept a phone and find a place to wait until the game commences. Perhaps her visa was due today.

“Second thoughts?” A voice echoes. Slowly, you twist your neck to peer over your right shoulder. A man leans against the wall beside the steps leading into the complex. His posture suggests that he’s relaxed - oddly, but the hood of his white jacket casts a shadow upon his facial features. You stare at the faceless man for a few seconds, allowing the silence of the night to replace your reply.

Before you stands 9 participants, each seemingly mirroring each other's worrisome expressions. Whether it be from the unknown of the game or due to your presence, you’re unsure, though you decide to not dwell on it and calmly grab a phone from the table.

Muffled sounds of music fills your ears, causing you to cock your head to the side. The man from outside stands with his eyes closed as he seemingly listens to music from earphones which are hidden by the hood of his jacket. You can’t help but stare at his blatantly relaxed form.

“Registration has closed” The robotic voice calls, signaling that all participants required are present. Your lips purse anxiously as you stare at the brightly lit screen, waiting for the next set of text to appear.

“There are a total of 13 participants. The game will now commence”

“Excuse me” A meek voice calls, to which your eyes flicker in the direction of. A man wearing a hat hesitantly asks the duo, which you previously hadn’t noticed, enter where the people of Japan have gone. You can’t help but bite your lip as an unsettling feeling washes over your body. Though hypocritical, you can’t help but feel he will drag down those who he associates himself with. Having almost died from your own inexperience and just barely getting out the kind woman who helped you with your first challenge, you can’t help but think that the man may not be so lucky.

You shuffle on your feet as you look away, coincidentally glancing at the mysterious man who catches your gaze momentarily. It’s almost as if there's a glint in his eyes and you can’t gauge what of. Mischief? Curiosity? Malice? Judgement? Anxiously, your eyes settle to stare at the worn material of your sneakers.

“Difficulty, Five of Spades.”

The sporty woman begins to stretch. You observe curiously, all the while the tense atmosphere from earlier begins to thicken.

“Game, ‘A game of Tag.’ Rule. Run away from the Tagger.”

Players begin to mumble between themselves. A sigh parts from your lips as you think about the size of the building. Although big, it becomes clear that it seems too narrow to properly escape from said tagger.

“Clear Condition. Discover the safezone hidden in one of the building rooms within the time limit. You clear the game when the objective is fulfilled. Time limit, 20 minutes.”

Easy enough.

“Once 20 minutes has passed, the time bomb hidden in the building will explode.”

Oh.

Making a beeline for the elevator surprised you as others from the small group did not follow. You wonder if they simply think that the lift is out of order, though you suppose that the act of preserving some energy may give you an advantage when it comes to running from the tagger.

Seven floors, you note as you scan from the list of floor options. The top floor feels most practical as you can easily watch for the tagger - though a part of you hopes that the tagger doesn’t have the same thought as you.

“Top floor, please” A voice calls. Your finger slips from the button as you peer over your shoulder at the person asking. It’s the guy with shaggy blonde hair from outside again, yet he now watches you with a quirked brow. You turn silently, clicking the ‘7’ button before turning to lean against the metal railing inside the lift. He scans you once more in a blatant act of outright staring yet somehow it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable but more so inquisitive.

“Following me?” You ask amusedly, trying to find some light in the weird coincidence. He only snorts lightly, dropping his head as if your question had caused him to think carefully about his response.

“Would seem so” He replies casually as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his suspiciously clean jacket. You hum, finally being able to study the features of the stranger. Tanned clear skin, stubble attempting to grow in, deadpan eyes, overgrown bleached hair and a shorter stature than most other men. He glances at the floor numbers changing on the small screen, shifting as the floor grows closer.

“Hey” You call, wanting to receive an answer before he can scatter off once the doors open. He hums, throwing you a quizzical look. You shift, standing with more confidence.

“What’s your name?”

Arisu. You believe that is his name anyway. He and his friend seem to have split apart, but he forms an unlikely alliance with the athletic woman from earlier. She impressively scales the building, jumping between floors and attempting to open doors. Something tells you he’ll be of great help in this game, especially with the help of the short haired woman.

You’ve already attempted the top floor and to your dismay the doors won’t budge. Usually, you would’ve ran to check the others but the tagger stays focused on the lower floors where most players run between. The fifth, third, sixth and seventh floor have all been checked and you watch as said woman checks the first and second floor. It’s risky, seeing as the tagger has disappeared into the stairwell following Arisu’s friend and the two other serious looking men.

It’s similar to observing an ant farm, watching how players scatter frantically. You try to ignore the blood stained walls and carcasses of those massacred but you know it is a scene you’ll think about later when leaving the arena.

“There are currently 10 minutes left.” A reminder that your life is on the line pushes you to leave your current position. Many players are dead, which means less people are here to do your bidding and attempt to open the doors on the lower floors. The killer has been in the stairwell closest to you for a few minutes now, so you chose to use the stairs furthest from yourself.

“Making yourself useful now?” He asks. You can’t help but laugh lightly, turning to examine the man who stands at the intersection of both hallways.

“Could say the same about yourself” You muse, turning back to the stairwell.

He snorts “Do you know where the saferoom is?” He quizzes.

You pause, looking back at him “No.”

He nods “There is a difference between us afterall”

You plant your feet determinately, staring at the long-haired man sternly.

“Show me”

The blonde slinks past your figure, silently jogging down the stairwell without a glance back in your direction. You chew your lip anxiously as you follow with a raised heartbeat. No clear view of the tagged creates an unsteadiness in your being, so you silently create a spacing buffer between you and the man.

After he turns the corner with no sign of being shot, you follow after. Arisu, the man from earlier steadily makes his way towards the door that the blonde was heading too as well. You almost pat yourself on the back due to your earlier prediction.

“I had a feeling you’d find it” You nod, looking at Arisu. He passes a look between both you and what seems like your game partner, but his hand stops at the handle. You frown, glancing at the floors to see where the tagger is.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” You ask, showing him your phone screen. The timer displays three minutes and Arisu seems to sweat nervously as he watches the seconds pass.

“Why did the tagger follow us?” He asks, looking at the man in the white jacket. He shrugs passively “Maybe they know something we don’t?”

Arisu nods, slowly turning the handle.

“Thank God” You praise, watching as the door slowly creaks open. The room is dark, dimly lit and another black door is attached to a wall to your left. Arisu and Blondie enter first, pacing cautiously. You enter too, looking to your right.

A small, darkened hallway is to your right. Perhaps a coat room, but something feels off.

“Guys” You call anxiously, attempting to ignore the rising feeling of uncertainty. You try to tell yourself that it is the natural fear of the unknown and just a normal human instinct, yet a small glimpse of a white shaped diamond emerging from the blackness causes you to stiffen.

“Tagger!” You almost screech, ducking as the two before you split mere seconds before gunfire rings out. You all but slam yourself into the door in a failed attempt to pivot your feet, stumbling messily as you attempt to balance yourself.

Blondie somehow tasered the tagger in your split second of clumsiness to which you catch both him and Arisu breathing heavily as they glance down at the taser he had hidden away in his pocket.

Bring a weapon, you note. The rules never said you couldn’t.

“It never hurts to be prepared” The blonde starts, yet is cut off by the second tagger firing his gun. In just a split second he has pushed you outside into the hallway and slammed the door closed. You fall back unceremoniously with your spine slamming into the brick wall as you fall onto your ass.

“Arisu is in there!” You panic. Frantically, you check the entirety of your surroundings without care for your neck.

“I just saved you” He states, regaining control of his breathing. You swallow the lump that had risen in your throat in the short amount of time, before shakily moving to a crouching position. If you weren’t so shocked, you would’ve snapped back that he only pushed you out because you were in his way.

However, you exhale shakily as you look at the hallway connecting to the closest stairwell “The other tagger. He’ll come”.

“Thirty seconds.”

More gunshouts ring out before you can expand on your worries. The man blinks, rising to his feet as he opens the door once more. Your heartbeat quickens once more, shuffling to move yourself out of the view of the open door. He glances around the corner, ducking as a round of shots are fired into the wall behind his head. Arisu screams for help and you hope that he is not hurt. A part of this feels like it is against the rules to have two taggers but the game never specifically stated that there was just one tagger.

In the split second of silence, you swear you can hear a woman in the room. Blondie throws his taser into the room after, standing back to pivot behind the doorway.

“Ten seconds”

The robotic voice begins to count down, yet the sound is drowned out by your own heavy breathing and loud heartbeat. Your chest heaves erratically, causing you to grip at the ground in an ironic attempt to ground yourself.

“One”

You brace, eyes scrunching as you begin to curl in on yourself.

“Game Cleared. Congratulations.”

Huh?

Your eyes snap open, finding the man already looking back at you. For a second you see relief flash upon his face but he is quick to glance back at the room as a small explosion rings out.

“We’re alive?” The question is rhetorical yet you find yourself staring at the man with his back turned to you. You can’t help but let out a silent laugh.

Something in you tells you to follow the blonde man. He definitely belongs to a group though you can’t help but suspect that he is well off in terms of supplies. Clean clothes, working earphones and a clear objective after finishing the game.

Sheer curiosity, or stupidity? Internally, you slow yourself for being too curious.

One of the men from earlier follows behind, it’s the man with the shaved head, yet they don’t speak or acknowledge each other. Maybe they fought?

Blondie pauses, allowing the buff man to continue past him. Even with the distance between your figures you can’t help but feel you two are barely inches apart.

“Following me?” He asks, referencing your first verbal interaction with him. You freeze, hands stilling by your sides.

“... No” You mumble with your breath caught in your throat, staring silently at the back of his head.

His shoulder shake slightly, indicating that he must’ve found your answer somewhat amusing. He turns, cocking his head to the side.

“Chishiya” He replies, turning on his heel once more.

The word stuns you, allowing him time to wander off to the vehicles hidden by the moonlight.

masterlist | next

#chishiya fic #chishiya shuntaro fic #chishiya fanfic #chishiya imagine #chishiya shuntaro x you #chishiya shuntaro x reader #chishiya x reader #aib fic #aib fanfic #aib x reader

[captaincryolicious]

The aftermath of a battle

➳ Childe x gn! Fatui reader

➳ Oneshot ; 4.5k

➳ Sort of fluff? ; Mentions of blood, violence and injuries

Who knew that this bloodthirsty harbinger could be such a sweetheart after a tough battle? [11.07.2022]

Zep's Note ; This has gotten SO LONG help me. Anyway this took me quite some effort to write so please don't let this flop hehe.

content under the cut | masterlist

The rusty and foul odor of death and bloodshed that hung over the dark and lifeless battlefield was a peculiar reason for a facial expression that radiated satisfaction and pride to rest on one's features. 

It was a sight that would have been unsettling for most people, even for the most experienced warriors who carried physical as well as mental scars of the countless battles they fought in. Yet, this pair of striking blue eyes skimmed the war zone in an almost lazy manner, carrying a dangerous glint and pupils dilated to the size of the pale moon in the night sky. The left corner of his mouth was curled upward ever so slightly, the devilish grin on his chapped lips growing every time he laid eyes on a new dead body. A gentle breeze toyed with some fluffy tufts of orange hair, the wind making sure the bloodstained mask that was casually pushed to the side of his head wasn't to be obscured from view – if only someone would have been around to witness the male's presence. But there wasn't a living being to be found; it was just the harbinger surrounded by countless corpses, and not even the sight of the mangled bodies of his fallen Fatui comrades was enough to make his smug grin falter. 

To him, the smell of death and blood that wasn't his own, was the smell of yet another victory. It had been violent, faint echoes of the bloodcurdling screams of many warriors seemingly still lingering in the murky air. There hadn't been mercy, the deadly dancefloor that was the battlefield wrapped in a darkness that foretold the demise of many. There hadn't been a way out for the enemy nor the Fatui, and both sides fought with much vigor, giving more and more upon losing comrade after comrade. It had been a madhouse from the beginning to the end, with a fight that took more lives than most, but it was the victory that mattered and not the way it was reached. 

A crisp midnight breeze blew over the plains, howling hollowly as it gripped and shuddered the tall grass and harvested the souls of the deceased. The male stood unaffected by the chill, hardened by the Snezhnayan cold that devoured the frostbitten wildlands back in his homeland, and still on a high after fighting in a delirious brawl. A scarf as red as the crimson that was spilled got caught in the wind, fluttering behind the tall figure heroically. His smile still hadn't faltered, and it only grew wider when a twig snapped in his close vicinity. 

     "Are you done admiring your slaughter?" your voice rang through the silence when you  appeared on the scene, struggling to keep your balance after nearly tripping over the spear of a fallen soldier while approaching the male. 

     "Certainly, if you offer me something else to admire," came the reply, the vicious grin merging into a boyish smile when the harbinger laid eyes on you. 

     "I brought myself, hope that's enough."

You paired your reply with a laid back jazz-hands gesture, mentally shaking your head at the sight of Childe covered in blood beaming at you with a broad smile. It was a huge contrast with the malicious Fatui he was barely ten minutes ago, and so out of place against the backdrop of massacre. 

     "Of course, Y/N" Childe replied, plopping a gloved hand on top of your head and ruffling your hair lightly. "You're plenty admirable if you'd ask me." 

Then his hand traveled from the top of your head down to the side of your face, using the pad of his thumb to wipe a streak of blood off your cheek. "Are you hurt? I must say that today's brawl was quite the intense one." 

     "Nothing major, just some cuts and bruises," you reassured the male, quickly deciding that Childe was fine too, judging by the way he was acting. A shiver ran down your spine when you glanced around, and you added, "but I'm cold and most likely really sore when I wake up after getting some sleep for what is left of the night. Oh, and I kinda want to get out of here as soon as possible. Unlike you, I'm not one who deems the aftermath of slaughter as a form of art." 

In reality, fragments of the moonlit battle were repeating in your mind over and over and you knew you couldn't put it behind you as long as you stayed on the crimson-stained greenfields. It wasn't your first time to witness the demise of many, enemies and allies alike, but you had yet to develop a cold indifference towards it that was much-needed when you carried the insignia of the Fatui. 

As much of a cold-blooded warrior Childe might have been, he was also a guy with a caring and protective side that was bigger than he let on, and he had a knack for sensing discomfort in the ones close to him. Hence he didn't fail to notice the slight distress that seeped through your tough demeanor. 

     "Usually after a mission the Fatui regroup and head towards a camp together to rest and heal before returning home," the eleventh harbinger mused, casting one last glance towards what he called a success before turning to look at you again. "There aren't any Fatui left to regroup now, though, so I think it's best if we seek an inn nearby instead of setting up a camp." 

You grimaced at how he mentioned his fallen comrades so casually, but then nodded gratefully at the idea of going to an inn for the rest of the night. Inns in Teyvat were cozy and homely, welcoming and comfortable, and that was exactly what you longed for right now. But then your eyes landed on the dark red stains on Childe's disheveled clothes, illuminated just enough by the faint glow of the full moon in the sky to be revealed, and you knew you weren't in a much better shape. As rapidly as they came, the images of a warm inn diminished, and you heaved out a small sigh.

     "Childe, we're covered in blood," you murmured, taking the fabric of your nearly-ripped coat between your thumb and index finger only to find blood stains indeed. "No innkeeper in their right mind would let us stay." 

     "Don't worry about that," the taller told you, his gloved hand still resting against your cold cheek. "Some inns located in the more remote areas receive financial support from the Northland Bank, and in return they welcome the Fatui without asking questions or making an issue of it."

     "Even when it's so clear that we commited murder?" 

You remained skeptical, but Childe waved it off with a dismissive gesture of his free hand. "It's not an irregular occurrence that I arrive somewhere with fresh blood sticking to my clothes and dripping from my hair." 

You still said nothing, and the male released a small breath before gently poking your cheek. "If they really end up refusing us, which they won't, just smile at them innocently. You look harmless and adorable, they can't possibly deny you a cozy and safe room." 

Of course you knew he was trying to lighten the mood and make you feel better, but the fact that he called you harmless and adorable, jokingly or not, earned him a sharp glare. 

     "I'm not harmless," you countered. 

He finally drew back his hand from your cheek, releasing a melodious chuckle as he stepped back and opted for taking your hand in his instead.

     "If looks could kill, I wouldn't stand a single chance," the Fatui elite joked, giving your hand a little squeeze before pulling you to walk with him, away from the misery that you two left behind. 

✧

It was as if the nearest inn was miles away. You felt sore and exhausted, and you envied how Childe still managed to look fairly unaffected while you undoubtedly fought in the same battle against the same opponents. Your injuries were starting to hurt more and multicolored bruises were springing into bloom all over your skin. You wondered if the man next to you also felt the strain of continuous movement on his cuts, but even if he did he was doing a formidable job at hiding it.

The path that led you two away from the far-stretched plains now brought you into the hills, the sandy tracks sloping gingerly and taking you up higher and higher. Pine trees and slender firs stood tall in the hillside forest, like fickle silhouettes against the vast midnight sky embellished with Teyvat's bright stars. It was such a deserted area that you had little hopes of an inn actually being located here, but with travelers and adventurers everywhere, people set up their business in the most peculiar places. Childe seemed to know where he was going, and with your hand still in his, he led you further uphill confidently – albeit a bit tired too. 

Past missions always ended with Fatui carriages bringing you back to the inhabited areas, or if you were alone you often got lucky and ran into a cargo escort that was willing to give you a ride after Childe offered them some of his seemingly unlimited funds of Mora. But tonight there was no carriage and no cargo escort, only the youngest Fatui harbinger gently tugging you along while casting worried glances in your direction occasionally.  

     "I'm fine," you reassured him for the umpteenth time. 

That wasn't a lie; everything hurt, you were losing blood and your muscles were screaming, you were hungry and tired and still quite shaken by the battle you had fought, but that was by far not enough to take you down. Weakness was a curse among the Fatui, and showing any signs of it was a taboo. 

     "So am I, but that doesn't lessen my desire to find a bed and sleep," Childe pointed out, his eyes skimming your dark surroundings before flitting to you for a second. "Being tired doesn't mean you're weak and not okay."  

You weren't sure if the male meant what he said; he was notorious for his desire to get stronger and exhaustion blemished your strength and greatly limited your capabilities and vigor. Didn't that just plainly mean that being tired made you weak? If Childe ever were to face a formidable warrior who just so happened to be gripped by exhaustion, he would definitely complain about the lack of strength in his opponent. 

Fighting someone who wasn't at their full potential put a tarnish on his pride, and beating them brought him not the slightest satisfaction. 

He was just trying to be nice, you concluded, but you still appreciated the gesture. Though he was a solid and reliable mentor to his Fatui subordinates, you were one of the few who enjoyed the privilege of seeing Childe's true face that was hidden underneath his Fatui mask for most people.

He saw no need in bringing the comfort of reassurance to the Skirmishers and Agents, he wouldn't adjust his plans and behavior to benefit them, he would spare them not a single smile or kind gesture, and never would he ever feel the slightest hint of worry or sympathy towards them. 

Even for his fellow harbingers, this softer and warmer side of him was locked behind his blue eyes as cold as the ocean. 

You knew you were special. 

     "See those lanterns over there?" he suddenly asked, and you followed the line of his pointed finger to spot a few orbs of light between the trees a bit further up the slope. 

     "Is that an inn?" you guessed, relief washing over you when Childe confirmed your suspicions with a faint smile.

     "Likely the most Fatui-friendly inn out there," he said, and then you finally noticed the limp in his step now that he started walking faster, probably spurred on by the fact that a comfortable bed was within close proximity. 

     "Because of their extremely remote location, the rare guests they welcome are all travelers and adventurers who don't have a lot of Mora to spend." 

The two of you had reached a stairway carved out of cracked stone, that would bring you to the main entrance of the inn. It was still dark around you, with only an occasional lantern providing you some illumination. Yet, even in the faint lighting, the pained grimace on Childe's face was hard to miss, and you mentally scolded the man for letting his stupid pride get in the way of admitting that he was hurt. 

     "Let me guess, they solely rely on the continuous support from the Northland Bank and welcome the Fatui with open arms because they know they need them?" you mused, deliberately not commenting on his obvious pain for now. 

     "Exactly," the ginger-haired confirmed, still holding onto your hand as you ascended the stairs. "They act quite obsequiously which works in our favor no matter how you look at it." 

The Fatui truly were powerful and influential, people left and right kneeling down before them with merely a snap of their fingers. They were like parasites, clawing their way into the business of the weaker and making them dependent on the Snezhnayan bank's funds. More and more business keepers practically fell on their knees at the Fatui's feet, and they gladly used their growing army of sycophants to extend their reach all over Teyvat. 

Maybe you weren't the biggest fan of this method in the beginning, but you were quick to find out that it was quite easy to get what you wanted or needed by simply showing your Fatui insignia. 

Even when you were covered in the traces of a massacre.

You were exhausted, and you were this close to giving up and letting yourself collapse onto the hardwood floor when the crisp midnight air was replaced by the comfortable temperature inside the inn's main hall. You were at your limits, after not only partaking in your toughest battle so far but also having to walk to the nearest inn without so much as a break. Your last bits of energy were invoked to stay on your feet, as the last thing you wanted was to embarrass the harbinger next to you, and you forced a faint smile when the innkeeper approached you two. 

     "Good evening, and welcome to –"

What was supposed to be a warm and polite welcoming got halted by a sudden silence, when the middle-aged man in front of them took notice of the miserable shape both you and Childe were in. You almost felt ashamed when you cast a quick glance at your comrade, the various shades of light grey that made up his coat and pants doing absolutely nothing to hide the stains of deep crimson. 

     "Hi," the male next to you greeted, flashing the innkeeper his most harmless, toothy grin – one that had fooled many in the past. "Does there happen to be a room available?" 

     "Ah, certainly there is, sir," came the hasty reply, and the older man quickly had to fix his composure after being so obviously taken aback. He was not to blame, though. How often did a man covered in blood request a room with an almost child-like smile and his voice laced with buoyancy?

     "Absolutely splendid," Childe grinned, and you truly wondered what archons had blessed him with this amount of energy even after a night this tiring. 

     "Is medical assistance sought?" the innkeeper then asked, his eyes flitting to smears of blood, bleeding cuts, and blooming bruises that adorned the Fatui in front of him. 

     "There is no need, thank you," the harbinger replied, still stretching his polite and friendly act. "However, may I request for medical supplies to be delivered to our room?"

     "I will see them delivered immediately." 

The man bowed deeply, and you cringed when a soft crack broke the silence. Fortunately, a young-looking clerk shuffled towards you, asking the two of you to follow her in a meek and quiet voice before scurrying off without awaiting your reply. Understandable, you thought. You would probably do the same if you were to escort two bloody people to their room. 

Even with your only company being a timid young girl, the particularly stubborn ginger-haired male still tried his best to hide the limp in his step as you were led through the dimly-lit hallway. You were definitely going to comment on that after you had a good night of sleep. Childe's pride and unfaltering urge to always show the best and strongest version of himself was weirdly entertaining to you, in a way that made you shake her head and roll your eyes with a light amused grin tugging on your lips. 

     "Here is your room," the girl spoke upon suddenly coming to a halt. She didn't face you, didn't even spare you two a single glance, acting as if simply looking at a harbinger and his comrade was just as lethal as encountering them on a battlefield. All she did was push the heavy iron key in your hand and mutter a quick enjoy your stay.  

Then she was gone. 

     "Everybody is so afraid of us, even children" Childe commented, his eyes trained on the end of the hallway where the young girl had just disappeared. 

Gee, I wonder why, you almost replied sarcastically. But a sheen of sadness you thought to find in the male's eyes made you decide to stay quiet. You knew very well how much he missed his younger siblings, and you figured that maybe this small occurrence managed to hit closer to home than most of the times he witnessed someone cowering in fear afore him. 

     "In the very least, that means we look like true Fatui," you said, attempting a mild joke while you inserted the key into the lock and opened the door to your room. 

The hinges creaked in protest, and you could only hope the sound wouldn't disrupt the sleep of any of the other guests – if the inn even had some to begin with. Silently, you pushed the wooden door close after you had both entered the room and locked it safely. Then you turned around to face your companion, planting your hands on your hips as sternly as you could muster with little to no energy left.

     "Alright, now cut the tough act, Childe," you tiredly demanded, trying not to go under and drown in the wave of fatigue that crashed down on you now that you were truly alone in a place of safety and comfort. 

Almost, you told herself. You could almost rest. 

     "Yes, boss," the harbinger responded with a sheepish grin, groaning quietly when he took a seat in one of the three crimson leather armchairs in the room. 

     "Good boy." 

You didn't care whether Childe heard your remark or not. Your eyes had caught sight of a small first-aid kit sitting on top of the golden-lined sandbearer nightstand, and you instantly went to take it. The will to sleep was massive, but the will to clean and cover up both your injuries topped it with ease. While moving towards the bed to retrieve the supplies, you allowed yourself a moment to wonder just how much support the inn received from the bank. The interior seemed a bit too luxurious for a place that had to use their last mora to keep itself from collapsing financially. Not that you really cared, but even in your tired daze you did not fail to notice. 

     "Now fess up. Where does it hurt?" 

You placed the small box on the chair's armrest and knelt down in front of the male, already drawn to his right leg before he even answered your question. Maybe he could fool an innkeeper and a young girl, but you hadn't failed to notice the little pause paired with a grimace every time he took a step. 

     "You know, just the usual scratches and bruises. Nothing too serious." Childe brushed it off casually with a breathy chuckle, something he always tended to do when he was hurt after combat. As if admitting that one was injured was the same as admitting one was weak.

     "Childe," you sharply said. 

     "Okay, okay," the harbinger gave in, a mischievous smile crossing his features. "Well, Y/N, as you can see there's quite a painful cut in my lip. How about you start there?"

Would this harbinger ever stop? 

Swallowing a snarky remark, you drenched a sterile gauze with disinfectant and gently dabbed it against a cut as far away from his lips as possible. The harbinger flinched, letting out a surprised hiss upon the sudden intense sting. You muttered a small apology under your breath, but you didn't relent. All you wanted was to crawl under the oh-so-inviting sheets of the bed that stood in the center of the room, but you both suffered injuries that needed treatment – all minor, but in high quantity. It would take time, especially since Childe didn't seem too adamant on cooperating. 

You got to work on the many cuts and wounds that littered the Fatui elite's body. Much to your surprise, he endured it quietly, biting his lips to stop a pained grunt from spilling every time the sting of disinfectant was too much. The innkeeper had also provided you with several cold compresses, and you placed them on the armrest so the harbinger could apply them as soon as you were finished. It was quite a tiring task, and you felt your body growing heavier as your own injuries started to hurt more as well. Yet you persevered, even when you realized you also had your own wounds to tend to. 

By the time you deemed Childe well enough, you felt borderline exhausted, and you wiped your forehead with your sleeve. You wanted nothing but to close your eyes and take a good nap, but you weren't done yet. 

     "You're good to go," you told the male, offering him a tired grimace. "I would go to sleep if I were you, and hope for the pain in your leg to lessen a bit overnight."

You turned away from him, rummaging through the first-aid kit to take out the supplies you needed for your own injuries, but Childe's gloved hand prevented you from moving. 

     "Allow me, Y/N," he objected, his gaze on you solemn. "Did you really think I would go to sleep after all you did for me? I'm going to return the favor." 

He got up, gesturing towards the leather armchair.

     "Sit down and relax. Let me take care of you." 

You simply nodded and sat down, way too exhausted to turn down his offer. And come on, how in Her Majesty the Tsaritsa's name could you ever deny a gesture so sweet? 

Your eyes fluttered close as you relaxed in the extremely comfortable seat. You let your head roll back against the backrest, heaving out a deep breath as your entire body slouched. It was pure bliss, until the purgent sting of disinfectant made all your muscles tense up as you hissed in pain. 

     "Sorry," Childe murmured, his hot breath fanning your skin as he leaned over you in utter concentration. 

It was clear that you were the one who usually fixed up injuries; the harbinger was hesitant and a bit clumsy. He was overbearingly careful with you, but even in your tired daze it managed to warm your heart a little. His tongue poked between his teeth cutely, and you almost let out a laugh as you compared this to the bloodthirsty Tartaglia you witnessed a few hours prior. Was this really the same person? You had no idea how he managed to pull it off. 

His fingertips ran over your bruised skin ever so gently, and he warned you each and every time he dabbed a sterile gauze against a cut to warn you for the sting that would instantly follow. He was really trying his best to make it as bearable as possible for you, and he was doing a great job. Your entire body felt like it was burning under the intense sting of disinfectant, but his gentleness made up for it. 

When he was finished, you were covered in bandages as much as he was; you really made quite the pair, huh?

     "Thanks," you quietly said, flashing your comrade a faint smile. You were grateful for his care, but you were simply too tired to properly show him.

 The harbinger answered your smile, leaning forward and placing his arms under your knees and behind your back as he slowly picked you up bridal-style. You  let out a squeal in surprise upon the sudden gesture, and Childe chuckled softly. 

     "Let's get you to bed, shall we? You fought well today, Y/N," he cooed, and you felt the limp in his step as he carried you towards the king size bed. 

     "Don't burden your leg like this, Childe," you lightly scolded him, but it merely earned you a mischievous grin from the ginger-haired male.

     "I'm fine," he urged, gently letting you down onto the soft mattress. It dipped under your weight, creating a comfortable little dent for you to sleep in. 

He walked around the bed, getting under the covers on the other side. Instantly, he was next to you, engulfing you in a hug that was surprisingly sweet. Again, you found yourself wondering how he could perfectly pull off what seemed like two completely different personas. In the deadliest brawls he was Tartaglia, merciless and dangerous. Ruthless fighting and bloodshed seemed like a game to him, a way to pass time. But after battle you often met Childe – or maybe even Ajax, though you were reluctant with that assumption. Regardless, he showed you a side so much softer and sweeter, a side that you hoped was only for you to witness. Filled with giddy smiles and warm hugs and sweet gestures, you often spent the time after conflicts with the eleventh harbinger. 

You shifted in his arms, turning to face the male next to you. His blue eyes were dimmed with utter exhaustion, but he still mustered a cheeky smile when he caught your gaze.

     "Y/N," he started slowly, and you didn't miss the mischief that laced his voice. "You know, the cut on my lip particularly hurts a lot." 

You stared at him incredulously, before you closed your eyes and heaved out a sigh. 

     "Shut up," you sputtered, nuzzling closer to his warm body to get as comfortable as you could. All the tension glided off your being, and the memories of the massacre you witnessed merely hours ago slowly vanished as slumber slowly overtook you.

Childe's soft giggle was the last thing you heard before you drifted off to dreamland. 

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[writing-by-mimi]

Here is some gn!mc x diavolo that I dug out of the reject pile from the gnmc-un-sheeps-hc. Couldn't bring myself to just delete it, so I'll post it and delete it from my folder. Lol.

Adult content, read at your own risk. Not beta read.

• He had seen your file, knew what you truly looked like... between your picture in your file and what he had come to know of you personally...he had been stroking his cock to thoughts of you for weeks.

• It happened fairly spontaneously too. He had been watching porn when your text message came across the top of his phone. The banner held your human photo...he never bothered to change it once you had appeared and been a sheep. The video continued and he had cum...but he had been staring at your smiling face.

• It's been downhill since then.

• Demon on demon porn just doesn't do anything for him now, and he feels ashamed. He went to the demon/human tab for porn, and it helped scratch the itch.

• Only it slowly spun more and more out of control...

• Now, only one human porn star who shared similar facial features and body type with you could arouse him so completely. He knew it was wrong, jerking off to you while someone who vaguely looked like you was getting fucked on screen.

• He also realizes by not stopping sooner, he has essentially stared Pavlov'ing himself into cumming with you being his "bell".

• It didn't help you would come over for tea. He loved speaking with you, he found your tiny sheep form utterly adorable. He would enjoy his time with you, even pick you up sometimes to hold you up high so you could see or reach things, but the guilt would slowly build, creeping into his mind. Fifteen minutes after you would leave, he'd think of how you were so kind and gentle with him. Not out for selfish gains. Your pretty face at the forefront of his mind... no less than ten minutes after those thoughts would he be jerking off to thoughts of you. Sometimes with porn in the background, sometimes with just his thoughts. Both of which gave him intense orgasms. It just confirms his earlier fear, that you were now his pavlonian bell...

• Maybe it was the guilt mixed with just how wrong it was that made it that much better. The thought of fucking you in human form, his exchange student in his office at R.A.D. while Lucifer or Barbatos could enter at any moment and see you impaled on his cock.

• If you even sounded half as good as your look a like porn star...he would be feral. From his talks with you, you had told him your voice did not sound the same in this form.

• He could change your form, he wanted too. It would harm you though. You would need to adjust naturally to the magic that flowed through his realm. If you were rushed in anyway, it could cause major issues that even he himself may not be able to fix. So he was stuck bidding his time until your body course corrected.

• Its been months now. Even just the photo on his phone riles him. A feral need to put you into a mating press and fuck the shit out you until he finally feels what it really is to cum inside of you, not his hand or cheap plastic toys.

• He masturbates, the feral feeling subsiding slowly. It was shameful how absolutely aroused you could make him...and it was just a photo.

• During an event he holds at the castle, he invites you. You arrive early and himself and Barbatos spend a good forty-five minutes just chatting. You genuinely like his best friend, his father figure, and Barbatos seemed to adore you. You had really grown on him during your time here. It leads to Diavolo thinking about having some sort of life with you.

• After the event and all of the guest have left, does it hit him like a ton of bricks... His feelings go much deeper than a need for your body... The thought unsettles him

• Fighting against desire was hard, but it could be ignored, managed... but love would root deeply and consume every available space in his heart. It would tear apart his dreams...

• You had just finished helping Barbatos clean parts of the kitchen, smiling up to the demon as the two of you approached. He hadn't meant to yell. To tell you to get out of his sight and that you were no longer welcome in the castle. His voice booming and carrying, holding so much of an emotion he couldn't understand, coupled with how his heart was telling him to feel.

• "D-Diav-"

• "GET OUT!"  He had even growled at you and taken his demonic form.

• Barbatos picked you up slowly, a glare on his face as he held your shaking form and turned to take you from his presence.

• He hadn't slept that night. The morning had been slow, dragging on and on. All he desired now was some sleep so he could think properly about everything.

• Making his way to the council room he stops just outside of the door when he hears voices. He simply didn't wish to interrupt and planned to just read over his paperwork. "Lu...if he kicks me off the council... can you at least tell him I want to stay and learn?" Your voice held so much worry. He hadn't meant to ease drop, but hearing your voice had perked his ears. He steps away from the door and goes around a corner, unsure of what to do. He is exhausted and the guilt of how he had treated you the night before is washing over him in waves. He waits to enter with only a minute or two to spare and starts the meeting. You sit still and quiet the whole time, not even laughing at Mammon and Belphegors squabble. As soon as the meeting ends, you grabbed your things and scurried away, like you were afraid your very presence upset him. He needs sleep. To rest...time to sort his thoughts and find a resolution. The human exchange student being afraid of him would help no one. Lucifer side eyes him, but says nothing.

• Getting home, he had passed out and slept the moment he sat on his couch. His phone alarm rousing him from sleep. Fuck. He hadn't any time to think...

• The next day, he was informed you would be absent by Lucifer, but that you would make it to tomorrow's meeting fully caught up and have all of your school work proper. It had been on the tip of his tounge, to ask if the reason you didn't show up to school was because of him. Lucifer continued about his business, leaving him to wonder alone.

• His brain simmered with different ideas when he finally made it through the day and got home, thoughts shifting rapidly to so many senerios...did he release you from the program? Should he just go about life as if nothing happened? At least then, you made yourself scarce, and he could work on some sort of plan of detachment.

• All of those felt wrong though.

• His chest was in turmoil. He should end your time here. Pick another human student to continue the exchange. He held firm and wrote the paperwork up himself, putting it into his briefcase.

• He did his best not to think of life without you the next day. You had only truly been here for the blink of an eye for time such as theirs. This was a crush, and it was beatable. Something that would get in the way of uniting the realms.

• At least, that's what he kept telling himself. Lost in thought, a figure collided with him, dropping his brief case he reached for the figure to steady them, but they had already dropped to their knees picking up his papers, as his brief case contents were all over the floor. A sweet voice telling him that they were so sorry and that they weren't used to things quite yet. The voice stops abruptly, holding on to one of his papers. The persons body sags for a moment before getting up and running the opposite way.

• Diavolo is left confused. It wouldn't be the first time someone bumped into him and literally ran away as soon as they saw who he was... but then it occurs to him, they had a paper of his.

• Nothing of great value paper work wise was in there.  The only option to be going through his papers and seeing what was ran off with. The only thing missing was the paperwork he had made up.

• He hadn't seen the person's face, but they did wear a R.A.D. uniform. He knew the hair color and skin color...so it could be narrowed down. He could even cast a spell to lead him to his paperwork.

• Then the thought hits him...if anyone did see and read the paperwork, it would be an odd thing to run off with. Even if it was a friend of yours, stealing from their prince would garner severe punishments... the only one who would take that paper and run was you.

• But you were a sheep. Small, fluffy and absolutely adorable... he pushes the thought from his mind. He doesn't need to focus on you more than he has. It's problematic.

• However, less than an hour later, his phone is exploding. Everyone from Lucifer to Thirteen asking if the rumor posted on the school's news feed was true. Loading the page himself he read the headline. 'Exchange program in shambles?' The picture a crumpled piece of paper, his paper work. His signature clear as day.

• Mephistopheles had somehow obtained the paper and published it in 4k for the whole realm to see. Comments already in the hundreds, many calling you such terrible and degrading things, cutting you down and wishing for your quick eviction from his realm. For every one positive comment about you or saying the situation or story were fake, there were atleast two negatives... much in line with the survey from the academy.

• Lucifer knew exactly how to phrase his question. He wouldn't be able to be vague or answer in a circle. (Circles weren't lying... just never really saying anything of substance...) He could ignore the text, but that in itself was a telling answer.

• His phone went off again, Lucifers text tone. Wiping his hand down his face, he let out a sigh as he opened it. 'You have less than five minutes to come to the House of Lamentation before Mc departs.'

• Locking his screen, he sat on a nearby chair. It was happening. You were leaving. It was for the better this way, he could become unattached and continue the program. Find another human to fill your spot.

• That's what he keeps repeating as he waits for the time to pass. If he can do this, he can realize his dream.

• Barbatos's shoes enter his line of sight some time later. "Mc has departed. Just as you wished. I suppose you were kind, making them leave after they finally took a more human shape that just a sheep. They will finally be able to return to society in their realm with little difficulty. Although, it seems a waste. Just now being attuned more to our realms magic only to be tossed aside." Barbatos can see it. The confusion in his masters eyes. Who would have thought fate cruel enough to rip you apart just as you had a form more substantial than a lamb... Barbatos knew of your crush, so when he had carried you out the night of the event, he had a guess as to what the young master was trying to work through. He had finally realized his feelings, and the young master was choosing to push away. "Perhaps the next student will be...more attuned to your taste."

• Barbatos left him sitting there for the rest of the night. He hadn't texted anyone back, giving them their silent answer.

• It had been days since you left. He missed how you would visit.

• After weeks, it began to settle, his chest no longer in so much agony.

• Months pass...and it's dreary. You usually would have returned by now, but you won't. This is life without you. Boring. Bland. Lonely.

• He fights with himself, to check your Devilgram... it hasn't been updated since the night of the event. Guilt washes over him. The last post a picture you had taken. Dusk in the Devildom, the royal garden and part of his kingdom. Lights in the distance sparkling. It was beautiful. The comment you left reading, 'No place else I'd rather be.'

• He had thrown his phone across the room.

• "The night Mc left...we're they truly human?" It's a question he has been avoiding for months. He pushed it from his mind, but from time to time it seemed to completely ensnare his thoughts.

• Barbatos answers and his chest feels heavy. You think he sent you away because you did something wrong...and becoming human had somehow just added to his ire. The fact you have fluffy ears and a tail that is a small puff ball pierced his heart. You were attractive, and adorable rolled into one package...a package that now feared him, or worse yet, hated him. But it did not matter if you hated him. It was better you did. Easier.

• Or so he had thought. Knowing you held human shape... he had seen a picture of you with Asmodeus on Devilgram yesterday. The thought of him fucking you so hard your ears bounced and pulling on your tail while he fucked you from behind had plauged him until he jerked off to you again. It had been so long...the orgasm he had been denying himself for so long almost rendered him dumb...

• This was fine though, he could masturbate to you and go about his life, pick another human and move on with life.

• The brothers refused to house the new human. So he put them in Purgatory Hall.

• He hated it. He hated them.

• It had only lasted for six weeks before he wiped the humans memory and sent them back. He couldn't stand it. It should be you here.

• But admitting that meant admitting he needed you...that you might just be more important than his dream.

• He surfs Devilgram again. Asmodeus has posted another picture of you, an early Halloween 'costume'. Scantily dressed as a lamb. Your mesmerizing. He saves the picture in his phone.

• His birthday comes and goes. The brothers had informed him they had other plans. It left him alone at his own party, surrounded by people who were only there to rub elbows and get ahead. His last birthday had been fun. Memorable.

• This was life without you, he reminded himself.

• He pushes the thoughts of you away, only taking his cock in his hand when it becomes unbearable. Your smiling photo in that slutty costume Asmodeus picked for you being the only thing on his mind as his other hand held his phone. It renders him almost dumb again, he even dropped his phone in his cum...

• It's been a year to the day now when you left. It's been miserable. The only good thing has been the sparce orgasms he was to weak to will away. He holds regret close in his heart. He should have stopped you from leaving.

• He makes his way to the kitchens, Barbatos is sure to be there so he can speak with him, but then he hears a voice he doesn't recognize and can hear Barbatos answer back. Peaking inside Barbatos has his phone elevated on a few cooking books as he continues to bake, the voice laughing at what ever he had said before silence claims the room. Barbatos keeps kneading the dough in silence and Diavolo believes he may have gone deaf for a short moment before he hears the voice on the phone. "Has Diavolo told you what I did to make him so angry yet?" The voice is quiet, yet rich in tone. It's you on the phone. "I've told you before, Mc. You did nothing wrong." He watches as the butler stops kneading the dough and frowns at his phone.  He can hear you sigh, exasperated. "Yes, 'nothing' is why he wrote up paper work serving me, throwing me out of the Devildom..." "As I've said before, Mc, the paperwork was never properly served to you, you have all rights to return when you wish." "You don't just write something like that up and have no plans to deliver them..." your soft voice continues, a small hiccup in your voice. "I just wish I knew why I wasn't good enough for the program. What I did to make him so mad at me, Barb. You say I didn't do anything, but why else would he send me away?" Barbatos is unsure of how to answer, Diavo can see it on his face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't pester you about it. Even if you knew, you probably couldn't tell me anyway. I'm sorry."

• Diavolo leaves Barbatos to the rest of his call.

• The private conversation he intruded on replays in his mind. You do think him angry...and you believe that he thinks you unworthy of being involved in his dream...

• He finds himself outside of your door. A small apartment complex. Rundown. Shabby, falling apart at the seams... the inside isn't any better, your door was wide open as to find some relief from the summer heat. Stepping in revealed Mammon sitting on a broken down couch playing on his phone. "What the fuck are you doin' here?"

• Mammon let's it slip that your at work and won't be back until 4:30. The second born also scowls and tells him to get lost. "Has Mc been living like this?" "Well, considering you an Lucifer plucked em from the human realm, their credit went to shit. Years without making payments will do that ta ya. They usually just stayed in the manor or with friends for the few months they were up here. An apparently if your credit is shot, you can't get any kind of nice job or live in a nice place unless you have mountains of cash laying around, but if ya had that, ya'd have good credit." The smile on mammons lips is bitter. "It's what Mc can afford with the job that would hire em. They ain't got no car, no cash, and a shitty landlord that likes to touch all over em when one of us ain't here. Real slick job ya did..." He goes back to looking at his phone, pretending Diavolo isn't even there. The apartment is small and looks just as bad structurally inside as it did on the outside. The walls are bare and a small air mattress lays in the corner of the efficiency apartment. Your room at the House of Lamentation had been bigger...the only thing other than some dishes were two laundry baskets of clothes. One neatly folded by the bed, the other in the small, cramped bathroom. He barely even fit in it... This is what he was he sent  you back to... a life of terrible credit because he hadn't thought ahead. A run down apartment and long hours doing menial labor...you deserved so much more than this. You could do much more than this...

• He walks the few feet to stand in front of Mammon. "Why doesn't Mc have anything personal here?" Mammon laughs like a mad man. "Yer status is showing." He stands and closes the door. "Ya can't have nice shit when it keeps getting ripped off. Even if Mc knew one of us was staying here 24/7, Mc don't see the point. It'll just get taken away from em in their mind. They won't even let us help with the debt. Mcs got more than me!" Another bitter laugh leaves him as he hangs his head. "Mc is determined to make it on their own, with no help from the 'Devildom or it occupants.'" He leans back in the couch. "Mc even thinks they are managing to lie to us and tells us everything is dandy!! That they are living a good life!!" His voice booms. "I don't blame em, but their terrified they'll do something wrong and we'll throw em away too." He grumbles. "Your an absolute asshole, ya know? I don't give two fucks if ya smite me or whatever the fuck ya wanna do. Just make sure you leave before Mc gets back and stay outta sight when they get home. If they knew we were here as much as we were, they'd get upset. An if ya see the sleaze ball that calls himself a landlord, make sure you cast something that holds him up just enough so the drunk fuck doesnt get ta mc."

• He could feel his stomach drop. "Other than trying to touch them, what else has he done?"

• "Why the fuck do you care? You sent em away. It ain't none of yer business and Mc doesn't want anyone harmed. Even that piece of shit." Mammon is silent for a moment. "That man deserves the dungeons... atleast 100 years of Barbatos serving him punishment..." the words are quite. Diavolo fears the worst. It was his fault. All of this. He could have atleast made sure to pay for your human world things while you were held in his kingdom...you never said anything to him. Why didn't you tell him? Paying for it would have been nothing...

• He sits on the other end of the couch. "Would Mc agree to meet me?" "Why, so ya can serve em the proper papers an make sure they never come back? Besides, if ya do that, Mc will spend money they ain't got on nice clothes way outside their budget to try and make sure no one knows what's up. It'll cost em an arm an a leg, and it could get stolen anyway. It's what happened to the last fancy outfit they had."

• "I was a fool to send them away..." His words are soft as he gets up, your cupboards have nothing but a few cans of vegetables and three packages of cup Ramen. Your fridge is bare and freezer only has ice cubes... "Mc just orders lunch at work. It's only half price while their on the clock. An if ya leave anything for em to eat, it just makes em cry."

• Why would you cry at being given better food?

• "Fuckin shit, your an absolute idiot. Spoiled so much you can't even understand shame. What a piece a work you are."

• Shame. He had put you into a situation where even being able to eat food from people that cared from you brought you such a dirty feeling as shame...

• "Ah! Fuck, out the window, dipshit!" Mammon panicked, pushing the prince through and throwing himself out. The second born put his hand over Diavolos mouth and placed a finger over his mouth signaling to be quiet. Being lead around the complex, mammon casted a quick invisibility spell.

• You passed them without a second glance. Mammon most likely used a ward to tell of your return. Your exhausted, uniform stained. Too tight, most likely so you can obtain more tips. Going through the front door, Mammon moves forward and Diavolo follows. The door on the opposite side of your apartment flies open. A heavy set man in clothes that look as if they've never been washed leans against the door frame. "Ay, Mc."

• This must be the landlord. The sleaze that Mammon referred to. His lecherous grin as he approaches you and blocks your way ignites a fire in the Princes chest.

• "Hi." Your answer is simple as you try to pass around him, only for his arm to shoot out and block your path. His meaty hands try to touch the side of your face as you pull back.

• "Aww. Yer still shy of old Melvin? Ya ain't got no reason to be scared hunny. I can treat ya real good. Even discount your rent, hottie."

• "No thanks." Your voice holds no ire, but a practiced patience. Just from this interaction alone, even a fool can tell it isn't your first time dealing with the man.

• Melvins hand quickly grabs your arm and pulls you to him. Your face twisted in disgust. "I'll raise the rent on ya, ya fucking whore." He whispers it, or at least tries to, but it is more of a yell directly into your ear as his other hand grips your hip. Diavolo knows you'll be bruised from this man, yet you don't show weakness.

• "You won't do that, then I'd have to move away from my handsome landlord." You put on a pretty smile, as the Prince watches you try not to vomit just from the smell of the man holding you close.

• When the drunks lips connect with your neck you shrug him off and try to leave his grip, your lucky, he's much too drunk to balance. You run into your apartment and slam the door.

• "Easy day today." Mammon mumbled fist clenched. Not doin' anything ta save ya was the only option he had, otherwise ya woulda commanded that they never come around...he had to be there ta make sure it never went to far. Not again.

• An easy day? When a drunk man who held your living space in his hands forced himself onto you, and would have gone further if pysically able was a good day?

• "I usually sit outside the window till Mc goes to sleep. Leviathan makes sure they are okay at night." And he leads the prince back around.

• You cry. Scrubbing at yourself until your rage takes over and you throw the rag across the room, cruling up in a ball on your bed. "Has that man done worse to Mc?"

• "Ain't none of yer business what he has or hasn't done to Mc. Ya made sure of that when ya wanted em gone."

• "Mammon, tell me what he's done to them." His voice is deep, anger apparent as Mammon repeats that ya don't want the sleaze hurt. It draws attention to ya and yer absence only to pop back up again is suspicious. Enough people have seen him do it to ya, you would be a prime suspect and have hell rained down on ya. 'It ain't like they got anywhere else ta go now..'

• He's put you in such a position... he watches as you take clothes to the bathroom, about five minutes later your back and dressed in pj's. It's only just now 4:30. "I thought you said Mc would be getting off now, not already home?"

• "Probably a slow day, which means they ain't got shit for tips if it was dead. I don't even know if Mc ate today..." Mammon scowls as he counts his human world money. "Just shaddup and stay still, I ain't great at this anyway..."

• Diavolo  watches as mammon tries to float the money into your dirty clothes pocket, until Diavolo almost quadruples what is there with magic and snugly deposits it into a pocket in the back. Sticking out a bit haphazardly, to appear as if it started to fall out when you took your things off. "Fuckin' show off."

• Diavolo and Mammon sit outside below the window, still cloaked from prying eyes. It's quiet in your apartment for hours and he isn't sure what to do. He knows what he wants to do. To sweep you away from all of this and re-enroll you. To make sure you never go hungry and don't ever have to feel so much shame again in your life. Then it hits him. Why did he come, if not to take you back with him? Temptation and demons went hand in hand, but taking you back could ruin everything. It could be years before you forgave him, but what is a couple of years when you have ever lasting life?

• The prince stands and Mammon goes to pull him back down to the ground, however Diavolo is unwilling any longer to just let you wallow. You deserve more than this miserable existence he's forced upon you, he will no longer sit back and let you suffer.

• Teleporting to your bed side is simple. Uncloaking himself was simple. Seeing your tear stained face and realizing you were silently crying alone was anything but simple.

• Maybe Mammon is right...maybe he should leave... but being this close to you, freshly showered, cute little tail exposed by low riding pj's and your ears air drying and becoming a fluffy mess make him stay. Looking over your other features, he can't help the feeling in his chest. The same feeling that came so strong and sudden the night of the event. The same feelings that started all of this. He would be a fool to say that they left...they did not. Love for you had rooted, and no matter how much he may have tried to kill what was growing.. it was already so deep inside of him.

• Taking out his phone, he texted Mammon. 'Meet me later with your brothers at my home.' Gently cupping your face, he had teleported both you and himself directly to a guest bedroom in the castle. You may be angry when you wake. Infuriated. It's okay. You can take your hurt out on him. He is more than strong enough to take it. What he cannot take is one more moment of thinking of you laying alone in tears. Of what your landlord may do next time, or may have already done... Of all of your talent being wasted. Even if you never wish to see him in your life, he will make sure you live a good life. One where you are happy and have money and food and anything you may ever need. You will never feel shame again. He won't allow it, even if it means he is not with you.

• He sits on the bed next to you, looking over your face, even if you wake and leave him with all of this emotion in his heart, he knows now that you are bigger than his dream, and that ever thinking otherwise was foolish.

• About three hours later, your eyes crack open, sleepy and confused. They are the most enchanting eyes he's ever seen in person, your picture does you no justice.. He just hopes you will have mercy and allow him to look into them for the rest of your existence.

So ya, there's that bonus angst that I wrote at like 1 Am and choose to go a softer side for the Mc un sheep's hcs. Lol. I got lots of shit that never sees the light of day like this. XD

#diavolo #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #obey me #obey me!

[yes-divine-ruler]

Warren Lipka (Evan Peters in AA) x Fem!Reader Smut - “Coffee and Sex” (18+)

Requested! Enjoy <3

Summary: strangers meet in Amsterdam outside Coffeshop Smokey, and are both just as high and horny for eachother.

CW: strangers-with-benefits, weed smoking, unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, cream pie

Words: 2025

I sat outside Coffeeshop Smokey, a spliff to my lips. I exhaled, blowing out O's until I couldn't. I was bored, and very high. All I've done tonight is smoke and play pool with a couple of friends, that then decided they were too tired and had to go back to our hotel. Now I sat, waiting for someone to walk passed that might strike my interest.

Almost as soon as that thought crossed my mind, a young guy in a suit and long curly dark hair stood outside the cafe, staring in from across the street. He looked like a first time tourist, bewildered by the fact that it was okay to smoke weed on the streets of Amsterdam, like he hadn't done his reading.

He caught me staring, his dark eyes locking with mine, almost unnoticed if not for the dimly lit street light. He made a beeline for me, as I put out my joint and sat up straight in my cafe chair.

"What is this place? Doesn't smell like coffee to me?" He asked, scratching the top of his head in a joking way and flashing me an adorable smile.

I raised an eyebrow at him, amused by his ignorance. He sat down in the chair in front of me, his eyes set on the ashtray with the burnt out joint.

"Can I go- buy one?" He asked me, putting a cigarette between his lips from his jacket pocket and lighting it with my lighter.

"Go ahead," I said to him, waving a hand towards the entrance of the coffee shop.

"You sound foreign too," he picked out, laughing in relief, like he wasn't the only one outside of his home country.

"Yeah, I'm on vacation," I said, leaning back in my chair, taking in his appearance again. He was hot, I thought, lean and toned, with the perfect facial features and dimples. I would sit on his face.

"I'll be back," he said, dropping his cigarette in the ashtray and disappearing inside.

Moments passed before he was outside again, a pack of 3 rolled joints in a plastic bag. He sat down again, ripping one eagerly from the packaging and placing it to his lips. He reached over and grabbed my lighter again, this time holding it up as if asking if it was okay to use it. I nodded, my bottom lip between my teeth as I watched as he lit it, taking a big draw.

He coughed as he exhaled, slumping down in his chair and hitting his chest with his fist.

"Good- shit," he got out, making me laugh. He was funny, and confident. I liked that.

"So how long are you here?" I asked him, bringing my drink up to my lips and taking a sip from the straw.

"Uh- only a couple days, business trip," he said, referring to his suit. I didn't know if I could believe his business was very official, he seemed unsettled, anxious, and the suit didn't seem expensive.

"Right," I said, as he looked at me as he inhaled again from his joint.

"You're really fucking hot," he blurted, sucking in his cheeks as he bit them from inside, showing his deep dimples. I knew he felt like it was risky complimenting me so forwardly. I laughed, crossing my arms over my chest.

"What's your name?" I asked, tilting my head to the side as I waited for a response.

"Uh Warren, Warren Lipka," he said, taking another hit of his joint. When he exhaled he asked, "what's yours?"

"Y/N," I replied, watching him finally put down the joint.

"Where are you staying?" He asked me, unbuttoning his suit jacket.

"Uh with some friends, a few blocks away," I replied, shrugging.

"Right.. do you wanna come back to my room? It's just down the street," he asked, and I looked at him with narrow eyes.

"Why don't we just hang out here?" I asked, a smile on my face.

"Well I can't get to know you better here, can I?" He teased. We were both high, I almost didn't even hear what he said, until I processed it. I felt my cheeks heat up.

"Alright," I said, getting up. Warren looked at me with wide eyes, not believing that what he said actually worked. It didn't, but he was hot and I was bored, I just wouldn't let him know that I was in control of the situation.

He followed me, saying that his room was to the left of the coffee shop.

"So, have you been to Amsterdam before?" He asked, catching up to me with a small jog. I didn't look at him as we continued walking.

"Yeah, every year," I said, finally looking at him.

"Oh, lucky, love it here," he said, looking out onto the busy street, "it's so different to back home,"

"And where's that?" I asked, as his hand landed on the small of my back as we wove through foot traffic.

"Kentucky," Warren replied, as he stopped outside a tall motel, small steps leading up to the entrance.

"What about you?" He seemed interested in getting to know me, or maybe he just needed to seem like he was to get me inside his room.

"(Your Country)," you replied, following him into the small lobby, watching as he nodded as a greeting to the receptionist.

"I can tell from your accent," he said, climbing up the stairs near the entrance.

"What, no elevator?" I teased, as we made it to the first floor.

"Not exactly in the budget," he said, reaching for a key inside his pocket and unlocking the room door.

"I thought you were on business?" I asked him, as I watched him take off his suit jacket and toss it on the couch. He went over to his king size bed, sitting on the edge and kicking off his dress shoes, laying down in just his button up, slacks and socks.

"I am," he said, craning his neck upwards to look at me, "come here," he suggested, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

I obliged, taking off my own boots near the couch, and pulling my thick sweater above my head, leaving me in a thermal tank top and baggy jeans. Warren looked at me as I shimmed off my jeans in front of him, keeping my panties and tank top on. I wasn't wearing a bra.

"Someone's keen," he teased, big smile on his face as I went over and laid down next to him on the bed, laughing as he crawled on-top of me, our faces inches apart.

"I'm so fucking high," Warren mumbled, as my hands ventured to the back of his head, my fingers tangling in his soft curls. He moaned softly, I guess he liked having his hair pulled.

"So am I," I mumble, as we both let out a laugh.

"Kiss me," I whispered, watching Warren close his eyes and come in towards me, finally connecting his soft lips with mine. Oh my god did it feel good.

His hands rested on the bed next to my face as we kissed, his lips soft. He tilted his head to the side getting better access, his tongue darting out and licking mine. I let him in my mouth, our tongues coming together during every kiss.

I moaned into his mouth, my head dazed and my stomach in a knot, full of hunger for this man. He broke the kiss, sitting up on his knees and unbuttoning his shirt before pulling it off. I took the opportunity to lift up my tank top, throwing it to the side and gasping as it landed on the lamp by the bed. Warren stopped, then we both burst out laughing.

"Shh shh," he said, covering my mouth with his hand as we continued laughing. I opened my mouth, taking his middle finger in my mouth and sucking on it. He bit his lip and looked at me, before his eyes averted to my breasts.

"Now when did those come out?" He said, dipping his head down and taking my nipple in his mouth. I gasped, my hands tugging his hair again as he sucked softly.

I reached down and undid his slacks, pulling them down the best I could until he was just in his underwear like I was. He groaned, as I took a hold of his hard and prominent erection in his underwear.

His thumbs dipped into the waistband of my panties, pulling them down off my legs and throwing them onto the floor. His eyes travelled down my body, taking in every inch of my exposed skin. I laid there watching him, before he cupped under my thighs and brought them up over his shoulders.

"You're so.. perfect," he said, letting out a deep breath he'd been holding in. I raised my arms above my head, resting them on the pillow and his hand travelled down between my legs. He flicked his thumb over my clit, provoking a soft moan to leave my lips.

His fingers slid over my folds, collecting the wetness that pooled there, before he inserted a finger. I let out another moan, as his fingers worked inside me at a steady pace, his thumb coming in contact with my clit and rubbing circles on it simultaneously.

Having sex high was my favourite thing in the whole world, my heightened senses made it feel like I was on cloud 9, my pleasure indescribable.

"Baby you're so wet, it's dripping," he said through clenched teeth, pulling down his own underwear and taking his hard cock in his hand. He stroked it, as I watched, totally taken off guard by his length.

"Fuck me Warren," I mumbled, as he lined myself up at my entrance, slowly pushing inside, his eye contact never wavering. His eyes closed as he entered me, pushing himself all the way in. I grabbed onto his biceps, my fingernails digging into his skin.

“Oh baby, you feel so good,” he moaned, slowly thrusting into me, my legs still over his shoulders. It was pure ecstasy, feeling him inside me deeper than I could’ve imagined.

“Warren- oh my god,” I moaned as his thumb started to rub small circles on my clit again.

His thrusts got faster, curse words and sounds of pure pleasure escaping his lips, one hand wrapped around my leg, the other still circling my clit. I was going to cum, and I think he could tell because he thrust into me deep, hitting a spot inside me.

“Warren I-” I could barely get a sentence out, it felt like I was seeing stars from how good it all felt. His forehead collected swear, the tattoos and veins on his arms jumping out to me.

I came, clenching around his cock, my pussy wetter than ever. His thrusts didn’t falter in speed and I rode out my high, grabbing onto both of my breasts with my nipples between my fingers.

“I’m gonna cum, holy shit,” he cursed, cumming inside me, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier.

He pulled out, sitting on his heels, as he watched his own cum trickle out of my pussy, collecting in a pool on the bed sheets. He groaned, letting out a laugh of disbelief.

“Fuck your pussy is amazing,” he beamed, coming down beside me and scooping me into his arms, our naked bodies warm and sticky with sweat.

I moved to look at him, moving his damp hair out of his eyes. He stared at me from hooded eyes, both of us breathing heavy, before planting a soft kiss on my shoulders.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” He asked in a quiet voice, a cheeky smile spreading across his face.

“Another joint then round 2?” I suggested, as he got up and almost ran to his slack pocket, pulling out 2 joints.

“Read my mind, Y/N baby,” he said, as I wrapped his sheet around me and followed him onto the balcony of his motel room.

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