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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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so, SO, Hear me out. This has been stuck in my head for DAYS. Can i request a Sapnap x reader smut, BUT Incubus!Sapnap. My brain is mush. Perhaps reader doesn't believe in demons etc, so they're trying to prove to themselves that these things indeed don't exist by trying to summon a demon, what type of demon? they don't know. Unfortunately(fortunately) for them, the ritual works and Sapnap is summoned. Afab reader with any pronouns, and Dom or switch Sapnap.

i literally love this idea sm. thank you for trusting me with it. [thank you to a friend of mine who helped me w some of the plot elements.] I hope you enjoy and happy reading! xx

𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓. ⛧ 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐬!𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐧𝐚𝐩 (18+)

pairing: incubus!sapnap x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (minors dni), mentions of an Ouija board, blood, oral (fm. receiving), smut, domination, choking

Your fishnets clung to your legs, yet provided little protection against the nipping breeze dragging icy fingers across your skin. You rubbed the arms of your jacket, attempting to generate more warmth as your breath fogged around you. Your friends giggled and kicked at each other, hanging around their shoulders and acting drunker than they actually were. It felt like icicles picked your heart each time you faintly felt like you were enjoying yourself, all because of Him.

His words echoed in your head each time a man approached you, finding yourself nearly too suspicious to believe they wouldn’t end up like He did: cold, distant, and arrogant.

The club had been too loud, in your opinion, but you’d be damned to let one of your friends know. They were focused on finding you a squeeze to preoccupy you while you got over Him. You didn’t need a distraction, you just needed to get rid of the thought of him.

One of your friends grabbed your arm, dragging you down a portion of concrete steps and into a lower-level shop. You briefly caught sight of the neon sign above the door, LOCAL PSYCHIC blinking in bright pink piping to welcome in tourists. You scoffed to yourself as you shrugged through the beaded curtain over the door.

The shop smelled of incense and a potpourri of unfamiliar herbs. A slender woman with long black hair looked up from a magazine, gold eyeliner sparkling in the dim lighting of the store. She watched the group of you carefully as your friends went straight for the Ouija boards in the corner. As you looked over her various shelves of exotic species of crystals, you could feel her eyes burning into your shoulder.

You sighed quietly, grabbing a green hued crystal and approaching her in lieu of your group. “So, this will get rid of my bad juju if I stick it in my bra, right?” You quipped jokingly, making her smuggly grin.

She straightened up, revealing a metal band t-shirt that you couldn’t pronounce the name of, let alone knew. “Gorgeous, you’ll need a fist full of moldavite to cleanse what you’ve got going on,” she jested, voice raspy and surveying. “Give me your hand,” she stated, more than asked. You reluctantly reached for her, her boney ringers cupped your hand, rings catching the candle light beside the cash register.

“Does it say I’ll disappear mysteriously after a boating accident?” You leered, making her bite her lip.

You could practically feel her breath on your skin. She studied your palm closely, wetting her lips. “I think I have something better than moldavite, though,” she quirked before digging her nail into the center, making you hiss. She drew a bit of blood from the wound, placing a business card against the spot. The center of the card oozed the crimson color seeping from the cut. “Call this number when you get home and all your bad juju will clear, my love. Him included,” she whispered. “You don’t believe in demons do you?”

“Of course not,” you answered, your eyes locked on hers as she smiled darkly at you, almost forebodingly. You flipped the card in your hand, a number plastered on one side and “REVERSE YOUR REGRETS,” printed boldly on the other. Your eyebrow perked at her. “What, is this a demon calling card?” You quizzed almost sarcastically.

Her dark, full lips twisted up. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

Your mouth ran dry as she smirked, fingers brushing against your own as your hand slipped from hers. You found it hard to speak on the bus ride home, or even form sentences while you were crammed between two of your friends as they all sparked chatter about their upcoming finals. One of the main reasons they bought the Ouija board was to ask a ghost to write their history and philosophy theses.

Your apartment was dark and alluringly quiet compared to the night of bright lights and ridiculous EDM you had endured for most of the night. You let your jacket slip to the floor as you switched on a lamp, washing your hands as your mind relayed what the woman from the shop had said. As you dried your hands, your eyes traveled towards the living room, the dark fabric of one of His hoodies peeking out from between the couch and the wall. You bit your tongue, anger flashing into your veins. “Even Him…” you thought, remembering what she had told you.

You grabbed your phone, slinking over to where your jacket was and fishing the card from your pocket. The red smudge of blood almost perfectly split the phone number in half. “You don’t believe in demons do you?”

“No, what kind of respectable adult believes in demons,” you grumbled to yourself, dialing the number. You turned the card over again, eyeing the words as you waited for the call to connect. Instead of ringing normally, three long dial tones sounded over your receiver, sending a shiver down your spine. Dogs of your apartment complex began to bark, sending feral noises of discomfort into the air.

An automated voice began to speak, startling you slightly. “Thank you for your call. Your sacrifice is pure and has been accepted. Congratulations.”

Sacrifice? The line went dead, your power fizzling out as well. You froze, your feet feeling as if your shoes were filled with cement. In an instant, your array of candles sparked to life, brightening the room. Your heart thundered in your chest, unsure of what was happening. Sacrifice?

You held your breath, waiting for what was to come. It seemed as if your apartment had been removed from the city outside, instead an eerie silence settled in the room, making it almost suffocating to be alone.

“Hello, dove,” a dark voice called from behind you, making you jump a foot in the air, chest wheezing from the jump scare. A man smirked at you, resting his chin in his hand as he looked at you. He dominated one of your chairs, his other hand drumming his fingers against the leather. His suit was well tailored, but he wore it rather lazily with his crisp white shirt unbuttoned. He wore dark nail polish, making his fingers appear longer.

His eyes trailed your body, pressing his lips together as you realized how tightly you were clutching your phone and the card. “How did you get in here?” You asked, your voice barely audible.

He stood, straightening the sleeves of his suit jacket. He walked over to you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Your breath was measured, your body drawn to him as if you were an animal in heat. “You summoned me, puppy,” he answered, voice dipping an octave before dragging the card from your fingers. Your skin burned and sparked at his touch. His smell was intoxicatingly enticing, making your mouth water.

He held the card between two fingers, his eyes locking to yours indefinitely. “You even bound yourself to me,” he noted, letting his finger pad draw across the blood stain on the card. “Little minx,” he mumbled.

You swallowed. “What are you?” You managed, words uneven and almost jumbled.

He turned slightly on his heel, circling around you slowly, fingers dragging against the fabric of your shirt before snaking around the back of your throat. His thumb teased against your skin almost as if he was restraining himself from ripping you in half. “They call me Sapnap. Some might categorize me as a demon, but that seems rather exaggerated, don’t you think?” He responded. “I’m here to help you reverse your regrets.”

You inhaled sharply. “What does that mean?”

He chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Baby, I’m here to make you feel good again,” he divulged, the heat of his breath skimming against your neck, urging you to submit to him. "I'm here to make you forget all about Him."

In an instant you found yourself pinned beneath him, the sheets on your bed cast aside along with most of your clothes. He watched you sternly as he slipped his jacket off his shoulders, unbuttoning his collared shirt, pupils blown with lust at your hungry appearance.

Sapnap ground his hips against yours, tugging on your thighs to bring you closer to him. Your back arched slightly, fingers digging into the sheets as his lips traveled from your neck to your chest, one of his large hands palming your breast. You stifled a moan, hips bucking against him. He pressed his tongue against your navel, licking a strip against your skin before he was in your ear again. His fingers curled around your waistband. "Uh uh, dove. I wanna hear you."

He leaned back on his knees, teeth nipping at the inside of your thighs as he trailed towards your core. His eyes danced up to yours, briefly gauging your reaction before slipping his finger between the skin of your hips and your lacy undergarments, tugging them down your legs. He pressed open mouth kisses to your thighs once more, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh with a restraint you had half a mind to egg on.

He hooked his arms around your thighs, burying his face where you needed him the most. Your body reacted to the pleasure of his tongue almost instantly, fighting to clamp your legs around his head as your toes curled. Sapnap was taking his time with you, eating you out as if you were his last meal, humming slightly to send vibrations against your nerve endings.

You threaded your fingers through his dark hair, rolling your hips against his mouth and muttering his name. He moved, teeth sinking into your thigh as he pressed his finger into you, making you moan incoherently. You tugged at his hair, earning a groan in pleasure as you noticed him grinding against the mattress. His lips were back on your heat as his finger curled inside of you.

He added another finger, finding your sweet spot almost as if your body had been made for him specifically. With each swirl of his tongue and his moans at the sight of you enjoying the chase of your orgasm, the more the tension began to build within you. He quickened his pace as he watched you pant, coaxing you closer to the edge.

Sapnap moved his head from side to side, flattening his tongue for more friction, pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Cum for me, baby," he commanded, breath hot against your core. You relinquished control of your body, letting your climax rip through your body, leaving you breathless and stunned.

He wore the devil's smile as kissed the inside of your knee, praising you heavily for heeding to his demands. "Good girl," he cooed, voice dark and drawn with lust as he moved to press his lips against your shoulder. "Such a good girl."

His lips traveled beneath your ear, nipping at the skin before pressing his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands holding your chin.

He discarded his pants, spitting in his hand and stroking himself a few times as his eyes burned into yours. He dragged you towards him, gripping onto your hips before driving himself into you. You groaned at the pressure, grinding against his hips and earning a smirk from him. "So needy. Have I not been good to you thus far?" His words dripped with a god complex you had yet to taste.

You whimpered slightly before he rolled his hips against yours. He retracted himself before slowly thrusting into you, watching with pride as you writhed for more of him. "I could kill you, you know?" He stated, thrusting into you harshly, pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of your head.

You chuckled breathlessly, your fingers wrapping around one of his wrists. "You won't," you moaned as he set a pace, digging his hips into yours.

Sapnap's other arm moved, wrapping his hand around your neck and squeezing slightly, as if showing you he could do worse. "Says who?" He provoked, pressing his lips against yours, teeth dragging against your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep in your throat.

His thrusts were becoming sloppier, deeper as he buried himself into you. "Me," you answered. He grinned deviously, pinning your knee to your chest and pounding into you, basking in your moans like they were personalized ego boasts. "I can take it," you groaned quietly, enticing him. He tightened his hold on your neck, causing your vision to blur in pleasure as heat rushed through your body, his roughness a perfect catalyst to your cardinal hunger.

"That's right, sweetheart," he grunted, eyes seeming to burn brighter with your submission. "Take it," he mirrored, his pace relentless against you as if testing your limits. He pressed his thumb in your mouth, moaning as your teeth rested against it, tongue darting out against it. You focused on his eyes, trying not to roll your own as your body ached to climax.

You could see the veins in his neck becoming more prominent and he removed his thumb only to grip your jaw in his hand, shoving his tongue into your mouth to lap at your whimpers. His hands moved to pin your forearms to the mattress beside you, his lips melding against yours as the two of you pushed each other to orgasms. You could feel his pleasure coming undone within you, finally acting as the jumping-off point for your second climax.

You panted, hurriedly attempting to catch your breath as he pulled out of you, sighing in pleasure.

He moved to begin dressing, holding your card between his teeth as he buckled his belt around his waist. Your mind blurred in bliss, still riding your high. It didn't really bother you if he left or stayed.

He finished buttoning his shirt as you sat up on your elbows, watching him straighten his appearance. "I'll call on you soon," he stated, tucking the card with your blood on it into his breast pocket.

You quipped an eyebrow at him. "This is a normal thing now?" You questioned, the situation seeming different.

He patted his pocket to gesture to the card. "You're mine, dove. I get you whenever I want," he smirked. He rested his knee on the edge of your bed, leaning down to press his lips against yours possessively.

#sapnap smut #sapnap fanfic #sapnap x reader #sapnap imagine #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n #incubus #demon au #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine #mcyt smut #mcyt x reader #🍭 anon

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smoooothoperator · 3 years

Text

Monaco (Charles Leclerc)

Summary: Y/N is Tom Holland's manager and this year she attends with him to the Monaco GP. What if she meets one of the Ferrari drivers?

Word count: 1896

A/N: Sooo this is my first work. Hope you like it❤

Since I was little, Tom and I were friends. I grew with him and got to see every step made into Hollywood. I met all of his friends and become a little group were Zendaya and I were the only girls. Harrison and I worked with him, he's his assistant and I'm his manager, so we travel together a lot. This year, after all the press interviews of his last movie he wanted to take us to a vacation to Monaco, the same week the Formula One is taking place there. The city is full of cars and people, and it's easy to be caught by some Tom's fans an the streets.

"Man, look at those pretty cars" Harrison was living his life, watching all the Ferrari and Mercedes parked in front the building "Haz you are drooling" I laughed looking at my friend "I mean, they are cars..." "Are you for real? Y/N look at those beatiful machines" Tom sighed walking near a Ferrari "Oh, so fucking gorgeous"

I laughed looking at my best friends being in love with two cars and when two men dressed with red shirts came near them they stood up real quickly.

"Are you Tom Holland?" one of the asked with an strange english accent. "Oh God, and are you Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz? The Ferrari drivers?" Tom has his fangirl mode activated. "Yeah" they laughed and Harrison started to talk with them.

I'm standing away of them, letting the four men talk, while I'm talking on my phone with one of Tom's sponsors, and I started to feel a pair of eyes locked on my back. When I turned around I saw one of the drives, don't know his name, looking at me with a smile on his face.

"And you are?" he asked turning all the attention to me "I saw Harrison with Tome in media, but... you?" "Oh, I'm his manager" I answered walking near them, placing myself between Tom and Harrison and touching Tom's shoulder "Y/N L/N, nice to meet you" "The pleasure is mine"

Oh damn, flirting are we?

The drivers said goodbye to us the doors of the red Ferrari that was near us and the one who filtered with me started the engine of the car making Tom and Harrison shout of happiness.

"Will you see the race?" the driver asked me with a smile on his lips. "I think so" I smiled at him feeling how my checks started to burn. "I'm Charles, by the way, Charles Leclerc"

Tom and Harrison laughed loud signaling my blushed face and I kicked both of their arms. We started to walk to our after graving something to eat on the steet and when we arrived to our suite OK the hotel I booked I started to call one of Tom's sponsors who is here in Monaco.

"Come one, Y/N. Stop working, we are here for relax and forget about work." Tom complained taking my phone from my hands. "But..." "No buts, enjoy." Harrison interrupted me covering my mouth with his hands "Plus, can we talk about how Charles Leclerc started to flirt with you? He had heart eyes" "Oooh, that's true!" Tom started to jump in his seat, clapping and laughing "He even asked you if you were going to see the race" "He wasn't flirting, he was just... being polite" I sighed rolling my eyes. "And why did he started following you on Instagram?" Tom took my phone on his hands when it turned on with a notification "Oh! And he sent a message to you!"

I stood up front the couch and walked to my bed with my phone between my hands, opening Instagram and reading his message.

charles_leclerc: Hey it's me, Charles Leclerc. I wanted to know if you can come to the Ferrari paddock with Tom and Harrison?

I smiled reading his message while bitting my lip.

me: Hi Charles, sorry we already have an invitation from RedBull... but of course we're going to walk near! I think Harrison wanted to have a look to the cars

charles_leclerc Oh, well... So, do you like Monaco?

I laughed softly. He changed the topic so quickly that o even se that coming.

me: I haven't seen too much, only the harbor and some nice shops... but it's pretty

charles_leclerc: Do you want me to show you the city?

I gasped in surprise, sitting on my bed and looking at the screen of my phone.

"Guys?" I shouted, hearing their footsteps coming near me. "What?" they shouted looking at me worried. "I think Charles Leclerc asked me to go with him on a date" "I KNEW IT!" Tom exclaimed "Okay so, what did you said?" "Nothing! I mean, what if he's joking? I'm sure he is..."

Tom rolled his eyes and started to tap on my phone, writing a message for Charles. He smiled and then put the phone on the bed.

"You have to get ready, he will come in an hour" "He what?" "Go on. And put something red" Harrison smiled and they left me alone on my room.

Sighing I opened the suitcase and searched for something to wear but nothing red. I dressed with a midi black dress and some sandals and painted my lips with a red lipstick.

"He's here" Tom said looking outside the windows, waving to someone on the street "And he has the Ferrari we saw this morning. Damn Y/N, enjoy the drive and then describe to us how the car was" "You are a freak" I laughed opening the door.

Leaving the hotel Charles opened the door for me with a big smile and started to drive on the streets. He showed me all the important places and personal places like his mother's house or the school were he studied when he was a kid. Some fans who recognised him started to cheer for him and he waved to them with a smile on his lips.

"Is like that everyday? Like you walk on the street and everyone knows who you are. Aren't you stressed about that?" I asked him looking at all his fans. "Not really. Well, it's true that when I race here I feel a lot of pressure because you know... it's home and they are my people. But you know... is really good to feel the support of them" he explained smiling to me. "I guess so..." "And how it is being Tom's manager?" "Is like if I'm taking care of a child! I'm always looking that he doesn't spoil a movie, or swear on public TV... but I love him, he's my best friend since I was little" I smiled, moving my hands while I speak. "I have to confess that the first time I saw you Carlos and I thought that you were his girlfriend " he sighed. "God, no! Never in a million years" I laughed.

He smiled to me and parked the car. I looked outside and when I saw that we are on the top of Monaco I sighed with happiness.

"Wow, what a wonderful view" I smiled looking at the sea "Thank you for the ride, Charles" "I hope you enjoyed it" he smiled grabbing my hand and walking to a bench.

None of us talk, instead we enjoy the silence looking at the sea. I didn't notice that his hand is still holding mine but I don't care, it feels right.

"You know... when I saw you this morning the first thing I noticed was you, not your friends" he said, squeezing my hand "Like, yeah they are Tom Holland and Harrison Osterflied, but... you are beautiful" "Charles..." "I don't want you think that I say this to every girl a see" he interrupted me "I mean it. You are gorgeous, Y/N"

I smiled and placed my head on his shoulder, leaning on him I little.

"Come to my garage tomorrow at the race" he whispered. "But I already talked with RedBull" "Only you" he insisted, interviewing our hands and caressing my skin "Please" "Okay..."

He laughed softly and stood from the bench. He drived me back to my hotel and I promised to meet him tomorrow at his garage, waving goodbye to him. Opening the door of the suite I'm welcomed my Tom and Harrison asking me about the date.

"It was... fine" I answered with a smile "The car, I mean. The date was actually really good." "Do you like him?" Tom asked with a smile. "Well... I only know him since this morning, but he's kinda cute"

The next morning we walked to the track, Tom waving to all the people who recognised him and laughed when McLaren started to put the SpiderMan theme song on their garage. When I reached the merchandising shop I stopped to by a Ferrari shirt and put it on me quickly, making Tom and Harrison laugh.

"What? I'm going to their garage, at least I should wear something for them" I sighed at them. "You like Charles " Harrison singed hugging my shoulders ", and that's really cute." "Yeah, whatever"

I stopped in front of Ferrari garage and Charles waved at me with a smile on his lips, dressed already on his driver suit. I followed him and sat where he indicated me before he reached to the car.

The race started, and he was first because he finished first yesterday on qualification. But after some minutes something happened to his car.

"No. No. No." He said via radio.

He can't race anymore, his car stopped working only at the warm up lap. The garage started to move stressed and requested for a safety car to bring Charles back. My phone started vibratting and the screen lighted up with a Tom's message.

Tommy: That was Charles, right?

Me: Yeah...

I heard the door of a car closing and the next thing that happened was a surprise to me. Charles started to walk towards me and he hugged me in front of everyone.

"Hey, are you alright?" I asked caressing his back. "I'm not" he whispered on my neck.

He started to shake and I searched for help with my eyes. A woman watched us and she waved to me catching my attention, making me go away from him and catching his hand walking in front of him. The woman lead us to an empty room and she smiled at me before closing the door.

"Hey" I put my hands on his cheeks lifting his head up. "No, please. Just... hug me."

I sighed and hugged him. He started to cry on me, wrapping me with his arms and making me caress his hair.

"It's okey to cry, Charles. I'm here, not going anywhere " I whispered softly.

He sat on the couch and I sat on his lap, humming on his hair trying to calm his nerves. When he stopped crying I took his face between my hands and dried his cheeks with my fingers.

"Everything is fine" I smiled to him.

He looked at me and started to lean on me, looking between my eyes and my lips. Our foreheads are touching and in one second his lips are on mine.

"I only know you for a day... but I already like you, Y/N" he sighed on my lips making me smile. "I like you too, Charles"

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles lecrelc #formula 1 #f1

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alygatorwrites · 3 years

Note

can I request a lil something? during the end of the manga or after the timeskip if you haven't read it yet, reiner still has feelings for historia and reader has one-sided feelings for him.

pieck gives reiner a small hint, saying he's wasting time while there's someone close to him that cares for him and points to you. he doesn't understand at first and maybe is conflicted about his feelings for you because of historia. reader is cool about it as she doesn't expect him to reciprocate her feelings.

a rollercoaster of emotions later, maybe there is a happy ending tho? i am curious to see what you can come up with 😭😭 i have dreaming of this scenario before bed and i can't help but get jealous of his crush on historia abjdsndks maybe you can help reiner reciprocate reader-chan's feelings or not

thank u so much aly 💖🥺

reciprocation

pairing: reiner braun x reader

a/n: OMG yesss! honestly, i was kinda annoyed at how reiner still had a crush on historia. i know that isayama wanted to show how everything went back to normal, but i was hoping that reiner would have a bigger role in the allied nations instead of being "dumbed down" to having an obsession with her. MAYBE THATS JUST THE JEALOUSY SPEAKING LMAO 😭 i was hoping this would be longer, although school has been killing me so im really sorry!! i hope its okay 💗💕 thank you honey!

↳ to be added to my taglist, please fill out this ♡form♡

as reiner is handed historia’s letter, you fold your hands on the table and watch him without a word. when he reads the lines and smells the parchment - jean saying something snarky afterward - you say nothing.

you want reiner to be happy: you want to see him at ease like this more, face soft as the leaf of the page flits from his pinched fingers.

and so you let the man speak about historia like she’s a damn goddess, gushing over her handwriting, and keep your goddamn mouth shut. ignore your jealousy. your feelings.

the truth is, you’re in love with reiner.

you can’t even remember how it happened, but you can remember the first time you looked into those hazel eyes, and how you knew that they were going to stick with you for eternity.

you’ve come to accept his crush on the queen, though. reciprocation was never an option in your mind.

when jean begins to chew reiner out for lusting after a married woman, and reiner says something about jean being a horse, pieck’s gaze lands on you. “you’re rather quiet,” she says softly, resting her head on her palm.

you shrug, turning away from her. “i’m just tired.”

pieck catches your chin between her lithe fingers, and turns you to face her with a tiny smile. the young woman is very perceptive, and you’ve known her long enough.

that’s when you notice the twinkle in her eye. she’s planning something.

pieck releases your jaw then, sitting up in her chair. “you’re wasting your time, reiner,” she says suddenly. “there’s already someone you know who cares for you.”

you pretend to not hear pieck - and definitely pretend you don’t see her faintly point at you through your peripheral. the movement of her fingers is barely there, but you catch it.

damn you, pieck.

the way you’re now pinned underneath armin, jean, connie, and reiner’s stares makes your stomach tie itself into knots with bubbling reluctance. shit, this is awkward. you want to run away.

still, you peer over to study reiner’s reaction. he looks confused at first, the contours of his face unreadable. you swear you see connie facepalm at the man’s cluelessness.

then reiner’s expression slowly changes: his eyes widen in awe, lips parting slightly, and brows knitting together. he seems genuinely surprised - and conflicted.

conflicted? why?

there’s no time to explain yourself though, because the door creaks open and annie steps in. her words fall on your deaf ears, and when everyone stands up to leave, you’re the first one out of the room. work beckons you as always.

two days pass.

you’ve been busy filling out tons of paperwork pertaining to the allied nations, so when you’re finally given a day off, you take it with open arms.

freedom at last.

you lean against a bench outside of headquarters, enjoying the salty breeze that flutters along your skin. it’s dusk, the sky covered in a gradient of neon colors as the sun dips below the horizon.

you haven’t seen reiner since that day in the conference room. you wonder how he’s doing, what he’s thinking, how he’s holding up -

“hey.”

speak of the devil. you glance over your shoulder toward the voice, low and familiar.

reiner approaches you, clad in his uniform: the suit hugs his large frame perfectly, showing every flex of his muscles, and his blonde hair is neatly parted. the black tie looped around his neck just pulls it all together. it has you weak at the knees every. single. time.

“hey,” you answer, giving reiner a smile as he stops beside you.

and that’s when your heart lurches at the sight of him.

the sunset highlights reiner’s profile in gold, a heavenly shine that settles upon his blonde lashes and the flawless slope of his nose. the flecks in his irises sparkle – a beautiful mixture of soft browns and muted greens. the only thing you can do right now is admire the man.

his words are what breaks you out of your daydream.

“work has been crazy lately, huh?” reiner says, focused on the candy-floss clouds and their fluffy shapes.

“well - yeah, pretty much. i don’t want to look at a pen or a piece of paper ever again.”

“that bad?”

“you have no idea. i almost regret marley and paradis reconciling.”

reiner chuckles gently at the joke, but it’s strained. his forehead remains creased, and he’s not really smiling. the emotion there is more … doubtful. it’s like he’s having some sort of inner conflict.

hopefully reiner’s not acting cautious because of the other day. you know he doesn’t return your feelings, and that’s totally okay. you’re happy enough being with him like this. “i’m not mad or anything, y’know.”

reiner stiffens at that. there’s a white flash of teeth when he chews on his lower lip. “i know.”

“good,” you hum, breathing out a sigh of relief. your core twists with envy when you force a grin. bite it back. tease him like always. “so about historia … ”

reiner’s eyes go wide almost comically, and you hear the breath in his lungs leave his firm chest in one exhale. there’s a light blush staining his cheeks now. it’s funny; he’s so goddamn big, yet he’s such a teddy bear.

“y-yeah,” reiner mutters. you observe the way his brows pinch together as he awkwardly shifts in place. it takes a while before the man composes himself again, which is strange.

is he scared or something? what the hell?

“pieck,” reiner hesitates for a moment. the golden strands of his hair ruffle in the wind and he appears ... well, lost. “was she being serious?”

the question is a shocker - jeez, he could have at least let you prepare yourself. a firm ‘no’ almost slips out, but you’ve never been much of a liar. not to reiner, anyway. crossing your arms against your chest, you inhale sharply and nod. avoid staring at him face-to-face. “yep.”

“ … why me?”

reiner says the words with a mixture of spite and anguish, a casual and rumbling voice. you immediately turn your head, frowning. “what?”

“i’ve done so many horrible things.” reiner exhales heavily and stares down at his hands; perhaps he’s imagining all the blood they’ve been stained with. “i betrayed everyone. i killed innocent people - all because i was selfish.”

it’s no surprise that reiner is broken after everything he’s been through, but it pains you to know that he continues to suffer in silence. whatever war is raging inside his ribcage tears him apart piece by piece, and you wish you could carry the burden.

there’s probably nothing you can say to convince reiner that he was just a kid, a victim of circumstance. there’s nothing that can persuade him to see himself the way you do.

so you decide to tell reiner why you love him.

you explain the amount of admiration you hold for him. tell him that you love the way he just wants to be someone his comrades can lean on, like a big brother. tell him that you think he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen and how you think he deserves the world.

the way you spill your guts out snaps every nerve in your body. you don’t say everything you want to – but you tell him enough. a dark flush spreading across your face, you find the courage to look at him.

the world seems to stop on its axis when you find reiner staring right on back. the intensity of his eyes is stunning; they’re lit up with astonishment and affection.

god, the affection. you see it clear as day. maybe one of the greatest regrets in his life is how he forced himself to see you only as a friend.

that’s when he reaches out to you.

reiner retracts his hand twice, unsure, before slowly brushing his fingertips against yours. the touch is so feather-light that you almost can’t feel it. it’s a test - he’s waiting to see if you pull away. you can’t even move if you wanted to, because his fond gaze keeps you rooted to the spot before him.

when you don’t recoil, reiner finally moves to gently hold your hand; his palm is so much bigger than yours, and your fingers slot together perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle’s final piece.

heart thrumming like a hummingbird has been stuffed into your chest, you’re almost at a loss for words and come to a realization.

this utterly amazing man likes you. always has.

but reiner shoved away the feelings for one simple reason; you deserved ‘better.’ focusing on the old crush he had on historia was a distraction - an attempt to convince himself to stop thinking about you.

because looking at you everyday and not being able to act upon his feelings was too painful.

“is this okay?” reiner asks lowly. there’s a slight pinkness to his cheeks, the color of a selfless love.

by some miracle, you manage to nod dumbly. “yeah, of course. it’s fine.” it’s amazing is what you actually want to say.

reiner squeezes your hand at the reassurance, a sigh escaping from his throat. “i really—”

you wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. reiner just searches your profile for signs of discomfort, and then untwines your hands to bravely swipe a thumb along the length of your cheekbone.

there’s no time to speak because he’s already leaning down.

the sensation of reiner’s lips pressing against yours lights your skin ablaze; you can feel the curling flames of passion sear your soul, made even more intense by the warmth of the sunlight on your back.

it’s natural, it’s tender, it’s warm.

reiner’s breath rattles into your mouth when you rest both palms against his solid chest and deepen the kiss. the musky smell of his aftershave and cologne envelops you completely, and fuck, it’s so good. your arms wrap around him, fingers passing over the sharp slopes of his shoulder blades.

as much as you wish the kiss could go on endlessly, there are people gathering outside. avoiding any unwanted attention from nosy strangers is very much appreciated.

you pull away to nuzzle your nose into reiner, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, protective arms moving to loop around your waist. it’s such an intimate caress that it sparks your brain into overdrive.

as the rushing sound of the breeze comes back to your ears through the quiet, you tuck the kiss away to be remembered forever. that’s all there is to it. being close to reiner like this - swaying together like wildflowers in the wind - is more important than anything else.

“i like you,” reiner murmurs.

the suddenness of it makes you laugh, and you can feel the upward quirk of reiner’s lips - a whisper of a peaceful smile and a sweet, sweet promise.

#timeskip reiner still sexy asf #I just wanna hug and kiss him ugh #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk x reader #reiner braun #reiner x you #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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yunhoiseyecandy · 3 years

Text

ᴀʀᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ (ᴍ)

✕ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ — ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴏᴏɪꜱᴛ!ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x ꜰ.ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✕ɢᴇɴʀᴇ — ꜱᴍᴜᴛ

✕ᴡ.ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ — 𝟹.𝟶ᴋ

✕ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ — ɴᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ - ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ʙʟᴏᴡᴊᴏʙ, ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀ ꜱᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ, ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ, ʜᴀɪʀ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ / ᴛᴜɢɢɪɴɢ, ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟɪɴɢ

✕ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ — ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴏᴏ ᴀʀᴛɪꜱᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ʙᴀᴅ ɪᴅᴇᴀ

─────

the familiar smell of cigarettes hit your nose as soon as you stepped into the small shop, the bell at the top of the door ringing throughout the room as the door closed behind you.

"might as well interview for a job here at this point, y/n."

a smile crept it's way up your mouth at the voice, eyes making contact with another pair in front of you. "yeah well, it sucks that I already have a job. but thanks for the offer, san."

the pen in his hand tapped in tune with the music playing from the speaker on his desk while he filled out some paperwork, his eyebrows knitting together when he saw you were about thirty minutes early.

"what's up? I'm pretty sure your appointment was at 5:00 pm, not 4:30," san said, standing up out of his chair so he could lean on the countertop in front of you. "lucas doesn't come in until then."

your head tilted in confusion as your eyes flickered to your watch. dammit, he's right.

you were more than positive you had the right time, and now you're nothing but annoyed at the small slip-up. "fuck, I could've sworn it was already past five when I left."

your arms crossed over your chest as a high pitched laugh left san, his hand coming down to slap the counter when he saw the glare you sent his way.

"well, you might want to get that watch checked out, babe." you wanted nothing more than to slap that smirk off his lips, jump over the counter and strangle the boy to death, but you knew he'd only watch as you struggled to do so.

just then, one of the rooms in the back swung open as someone walked out, another guy who you assumed to be a new artist here leaning against the door as he wiped some sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt.

woah, you thought, he's kinda cute. you couldn't help but bite your lip while watching as a small smile played on his lips, eyes fixed on his arms when they flexed while opening a door for the other guy to leave.

you watched as he strolled over to where you and san were, the leather pants he had on fitting his thighs too well, and the black shirt he had on leaving barely anything to the imagination.

his hair was messy, and you could tell he pushed it back a lot. just as that thought came to mind his hand came up to push the hair out of his eyes, and it's then that you saw the dark eyeshadow that he had on.

black eyeliner and eyeshadow, leather pants— he was the whole package, and you couldn't tell if it was him that was making it hot in here, or the lack of air conditioning-

all this time you didn't realize san was holding back more laughter as he watched you drool over the new employee, ushering him over secretly just to mess with you.

the smirk that painted san's face never left as the tall man walked over, eyes low and dark and it gave you the impression that he must've been tired. "oh hey, yunho, how'd your last session go?"

yunho, that was his name

yunho sighed as he craned his neck to the side while his hand rubbed the tense muscles harshly, "it went good, but god is my back being a pain today."

your eyes continued to drink in yunho's appearance, finding it hard to look away for more than a minute.

you couldn't help but notice the size difference between the two of you, and it was hard not to think about what other things could be even bigger.

"oh sorry, I should introduce you two," san said, walking to where you two of you were standing and his hands gesturing to both of you as he spoke. "y/n, yunho — yunho, y/n."

you weren't exactly sure how to respond to san's actions, but you just decided to go along with him and send an awkward nod yunho's way.

he smiled, well more specifically half smiled back to you, and you couldn't help but admire the tongue piercing that his tongue had. you'd always admired people with such a pain tolerance, never truly being able to handle things like that.

"nice to meet you, y/n." he said, being very discreet at checking you out while your eyes trained to the ground. he thought it was adorable when your ears reddened slightly, making it hard for him not to blush himself.

and as much as you wanted nothing more than to talk to the hot guy in front of you, you really needed to get this tattoo done before you had to leave for work later that night.

your hands shoved themselves into the pockets of your shorts, "oh, I forgot to tell you y/n," san started, "lucas just texted me saying he won't be able to make it today, and recommend you pick someone else to do the tattoo for you."

you couldn't help but roll your eyes in annoyance at his words, already mad at yourself for being early but now being more than pissed off.

and maybe it was because he'd later on tell you that the guy you'd been drooling over would substitute for your usual artist, leaving you a embarrassed mess the whole session.

but who knows

he was precise with everything, and you never would’ve thought watching someone handle something with such precisions could be so attractive. you could tell he took pride in what he did, and you knew you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing while being alone in this room with him.

though, you will admit that no matter how focused you were on the man in front of you, the pain of the needle poking your skin was far too much to distract you from where you currently were.

this wasn’t your first time getting a tattoo, so you weren’t quite sure why your nerves were shot, but you had a couple reasons that might explain why you were extra squeamish today.

yunho noticed the way you would tense up whenever he placed his empty hand on your knee to sturdy himself, and he couldn’t help but chuckle whenever your thighs closed together at his soft touches.

in fact, this whole time he’d been working on you he had to force his eyes back onto what he was working and tell himself repeatedly to keep everything professional, and not cross any lines.

he hated how he was acting, like some teenage boy who’d just discovered porn for the first time. his cheeks reddened as he saw you bite your bottom lip, thinking about how sweet you must be, and he wanted nothing more than to throw the tattoo machine across the room and spread your legs wide open while he takes you raw.

he knew it wasn’t just him thinking like this, and he smirked whenever you licked your lips when he moved a certain way, the veins on his arms becoming more prominent with every passing second.

“and.. done.” he said, placing the gun on the small table next to him before he grabbed one last wipe and slowly dragged it along your tattoo to get any access ink. he stood up hastily, taking his gloves off and rolling his wrist in circular motions.

in this moment, you didn’t care about the fresh moon that painted your skin, and more about how big he looked compared to where you sat, his chest barely fitting in his shirt. “it looks amazing, really.”

he turned around to face you, smiling and drying his hands with a paper towels. he stepped closer to you, steps short but long as he leaned down, “gotta throw this away, baby.” he said and tossed the paper into the bin right next to your legs.

you held your breath when he pulled back, your eyes locking with his while his breath fanned your face. his cologne was intoxicating, it was like you were floating, almost a euphoric feeling. “did you need anything else?”

maybe it was because of all the sexual tension that you pulled the collar of his shirt towards you and pressed your lips against his, but you couldn’t think about anything else but his taste.

he tasted like strawberries, and you think you remember him putting some strawberry chapstick on before he started your session. his lips were soft, felt like cushions against your own, and you let your tongue slide over his bottom lip before slowly pushing into his mouth.

yunho pulled away to catch his breath, "fuck, are you sure you want to do this? san's right outside and can hear us-"

he was adorable, you had to admit, the way his ears were burning and how he touched you hesitantly. but you wanted him to know that you were in this fully, so you wrapped your legs around him while slowly grounding into him so he could catch on.

you could feel his cock through his ripped jeans, and you loved the way it felt against your clit through the fabric of your underwear. "you're so big,"

it was like a wave came over him, sending a boost of confidence his way when you moaned into his mouth. "yeah?"

you hummed into him, fingers tugging the hair on the back of his neck. yunho's hands ran up and down your thighs before pulling away.

"I wanna feel those pretty lips around me, baby." he said, backing up against the counter in front of you. your eyes ran down from where his hands were undoing the buttons on his shirt, wide while slowly roaming the bulge over his pants.

once his shirt was open, his hands moved down to slowly grope himself while looking keeping eye contact with you. "what're you waiting for?"

never have you felt such heat rush through your body, the white underwear you had on had to be more than soaked through by now.

without any hesitation, you rushed to get on the ground infront of him, sliding your hands up his body and unbuttoning his pants while kissing his clothed thighs.

his fingers grabbed ahold of some of your hair, gliding through it and gripping it harshly. the view beneath him was too hot, and it was starting to get hard to grasp a full breath of air.

once you finally managed to pull his pants down, you placed your hands on either side of his underwear and pulled it down.

you don't think you've ever taken someone so big, let alone give head to something the size of your face. you gulped, licking your lips and giving a small lick to the head of his cock.

"f-fuck" he stuttered out, chest heaving as he watched you taste him. it was such a small touch, but just enough to have him begging for more.

slowly, one hand came to hold his length closer to your lips, and you licked a long stripe up the underside of him to test where he was most sensative.

and as you expected, once you reached he slit his hips buckled up into your mouth, forcing his head to slip past your lips. "just like that, so good."

it wasn't long before both his hands tangled in your hair while one of your own was on his thigh, pacing yourself with every harsh thrust he gave your mouth.

you could feel the way his cock twitched if you sucked harder, and you wanted nothing more than to have him cum in your mouth. but before he could, he pulled out completely and stuck his thumb in your mouth.

"no, baby, I wanna cum in your pussy before anything else."

you moaned around his finger, surprised when he pulled it out of your mouth and pulled you up by your chin, turning you around and bending you over the work table.

"I'm not gonna lie, y/n." he pulled your shorts down your legs, moving your panties to the side, "I knew I wanted to fuck you as soon as I saw these pretty shorts."

he stuck two fingers in his mouth, coating them with his spit and spreading your legs before sliding them over your pussy. "and when I saw the bow on your underwear? I fucking lost it."

you but your arm to keep any noises inside, not wanting anyone to walk in right now. "ah, please-"

he smirked, slowly pushing the digits in to make sure it wouldn't hurt. "god, you're so warm and wet."

you felt his fingers curl up inside you, and your back arched with anticipation. he was moving too slow for your liking, and you were starting to get impatient.

"yunho, please. I need you." you're not one to beg, but right now you're willing to do anything to feel him inside you.

"all you had to do was ask, love"

yunho pushed himself deep in you, and it took all the willpower in your body not to scream. "oh fuck,"

he groaned as you clenched around him, moving his hips when he felt your body ease into his touch.

your hands gripped the edge of the table under you, nails scraping the paint on the underside of it while it pounded into you from behind.

with every thrust he gave you, his hips slammed the backside of your thighs, making the room fill with sounds of slapping that only added to the lewdness of the situation.

you could feel all of him; the veins that ran on the underside of him, the tip of his cock whenever he'd graze that sweet spot inside of you, and the way his nails dug into your hips when your cunt squeezed him especially right.

"so good," yunho groaned, his head falling back when he caught a reflection of your face in the mirror infront of him.

your eyebrows were knit together, mouth wide open while silent please and begs left your mouth. and every now and then he caught a glimpse of your cleavage whenever your shirt bunched up at the top

you couldn't take it anymore, it was all too much. "g-gonna- gonna cum-!"

he couldn't help but chuckle at the whine you let out, "yeah? go ahead, cum all over my cock like the slut you are."

your eyes closed tight, back arching into the table and your whole lower half went numb as you came around him.

not being able to handle how hard you were clenching around him he gave your sensative body two more thrusts before pulling out and cumming all over your back.

you lay there in a daze, not paying attention to the shuffling behind you.

"maybe you did need something else, huh?"

[ ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ]

─────

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

─────

@hanatiny , @multidreams-and-desires , @latte-fairytaekwoon , @vocalyunho , and @galaxteez

─────

ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ © ʏᴜɴʜᴏɪꜱᴇʏᴇᴄᴀɴᴅʏ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

─────

#ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #ateez yunho #yunho ateez #ateez #kpop boy group #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpopidol #yunho smut #jeong yunho #yunho scenarios #jung yunho

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cocobeanncteez · 3 years

Text

ATEEZ San- Confessions (oneshot)

Genre: Angst, fluff, suggestive, high school au, enemies to lovers au.

Pairing: San x Reader (fem)

Warnings: profanities, alcohol.

On a scale of one to ten, you'd rate your life at your prestigious boarding school a nine.

You loved KQ Academy: a boarding school for the rich, spoiled brats of the country. The teachers were highly experienced and the other staff were really nice. The cafeteria food was great and the vending machines always had your favorite drinks. The bathrooms were clean and the classrooms, laboratories, and other activity rooms were large and spacious. There were three different sports fields, a large swimming pool, and a large athletics field. The dormitories were also really comfortable and overall impressive. Basically, your school was lit.

So why did you rate your great life here a nine? Two words: Choi San.

San was the only person here who got on your nerves. Not only was he a rich, spoiled brat, but he was also the most popular guy at school and the captain of the volleyball team. His pretty face screamed of nothing but trouble... for you.

You don't understand why San doesn't like you; ever since he joined your school in ninth grade, you both never got along despite being in the same friend group. Your friends tried their best to make you both decently talk to each other, but they gave up eventually when it clearly wasn't working; you both always argued about the smallest, stupidest things.

"Should I get another piercing?" Hongjoong asked, opening his strawberry yogurt.

"Where?" Yunho questioned. "Please, not on your ear! Let the poor thing breathe!" You chuckled, glancing at the many piercings on your twin brother's ears.

"I swear Hongjoong hyung is a masochist," Yeosang stated, making Mingi and Wooyoung burst out laughing.

"And he likes exhibitionism," Seonghwa said. Hongjoong rolled his eyes, quietly eating his yogurt; he was used to everyone teasing him.

"Hey guys!" you heard Choi San greet before he took his usual seat beside Wooyoung. You glanced at him, immediately noticing his disheveled hair and swollen lips.

"Oh god, San, who was it now?" Eunhee, Hongjoong's girlfriend, questioned.

"Na Yuri," San said with a smirk. "She took me behind the auditorium. There were no cameras there." You heard Jiwoo mumble a 'not surprise' from beside you, making you chuckle.

"And you managed to get off in less than five minutes?" Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow.

San fake gasped in shock. "What! Wooyoung, you know I don't fuck these girls. I've only made out with them."

"What, really?" Jongho asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I haven't slept with anyone other than my ex, Jina," San said, taking a bite of Yeosang's ice cream sandwich, earning a glare from the boy. You were quite surprised at this new information; the entire school thought San fucked a new chick every week. You wondered why he never said anything about it despite all the false claims.

"Y/N," you heard someone call you, catching all your friends' attention. You saw Kim Yonghee approach you with the sweetest smile on his face. He handed you your notebook that you had given him two days ago. "Thank you so much. Your notes really helped."

"You aced your test?"

He smirked. "Of course." He opened his mouth to say something, but one of his friends called him for football practice. "Well, I'll see you in math," he said with a wink before walking away.

"Oh, someone's blushing!" Eunhee teased.

Yunho chuckled. "Wow, Y/N, I wonder what's got you all pink."

"Yonghee is so fucking cute! I kinda want to date him," you squealed, earning a scoff from an unamused San. Yeosang raised an eyebrow at San who only shrugged. "Do you have an issue, San?" you asked, annoyed by his reaction.

"No, why would I?"

"Well, your reaction doesn't seem like it."

"Why would I care about you and that piece of shit?" he spat, looking away.

"You don't even know him!" your voice was raising.

"Here we go again," Yeosang muttered under his breath.

San glared at you. "As if you know about the way he screws around with—"

"So what? I'd rather be with someone like him than with someone like you," you stated in a cold tone. San's face fell, but he immediately put his pokerface on.

Seonghwa sighed. "Can you two stop fighting for once?"

"It's his fault," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"No, it's yours," San retorted. "You could've ignored me."

You were about to say something, but the bell rang. You glared at San before dragging Wooyoung and Mingi with you to your next class.

A month later, you ended up in an FWB relationship with Kim Yonghee. So far, things were going really well.

You were at Seonghwa and Hongjoong's dorm with everyone. You noticed how San has been really quiet and sulky these past few days. Despite always arguing with him, you felt worried for him. You wanted to ask him if he was all right, but you knew he'd just roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment.

You nudged Yunho who was sitting beside you. "Is San all right?" you whispered in his ear.

Yunho shook his head. "No, he's not okay. I don't know what happened, and he said he doesn't want to talk about it." You nodded, but you felt like Yunho was lying to you.

"Y/N, how are things going on between you and Yonghee?" Mingi asked.

"Good," you answered with a smile. "He's an absolute gentleman."

"Yeah, I could tell from last night," Eunhee teased, making you choke on nothing in particular, wondering how she found out about you sneaking Yonghee into your suite style dorm. "You're not as sneaky as you think you are, Y/N."

San slammed his can of sprite on the table, startling a few of you. "Sorry, I'm a little tired," he mumbled. "Yunho, I'm going to our room. I'll see you all tomorrow." You noticed Wooyoung and Seonghwa share a glance before Seonghwa nodded.

"I'm heading back as well. Good night guys," Seonghwa said, quickly getting up and following San. There was clearly something up with San and you really wanted to find out.

While you were having lunch with your friends, Yonghee came to your table. He kissed you gently, earning an 'aww' from Eunhee and Jiwoo.

"Hey, hey, hey, no kissing in front of her older brother," Hongjoong said sternly. You rolled your eyes; he was only older by eight minutes.

"Sorry, man," Yonghee chuckled. "Here," he handed you a few sheets. "Seunghun told me to give this to you. It's his part of the assignment you both are working on. He said you can arrange it however you'd like."

"Ah, tell him I said thanks," you said.

"Will do, doll." he kissed your head before leaving.

San witnessed the entire scene and he lost his appetite. He pushed his food around with his spoon, feeling heartbroken.

"Step up your game, bro," Mingi said to San in a low tone so that the others couldn't hear.

"What do you mean?" San questioned.

Mingi rolled his eyes. "We all know you like Y/N. Don't give her up easily."

"Well, she likes Yonghee."

"They're only friends with benefits," Hongjoong said, joining the conversation. "They're just fooling around. I know it might seem like she has feelings for him, but trust me, she doesn't."

San bit his lip anxiously. "But she hates me."

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. "I know my sister well enough to say that she doesn't hate you, Sannie. In fact, she was really hurt 'cause she thinks you hate her. You both should really stop fighting and assuming shit."

"She doesn't hate me?" San asked in surprise.

"No, she doesn't, you idiot," Mingi muttered with a sigh. "Now step up your game, San, before someone else sweeps her off her feet."

You were watching the volleyball team practice for an upcoming inter-school match. San and Yeosang were on the team, so your entire group was here as well, watching them practice 'cause there was nothing else to do.

You had to admit, San was a great captain. He was so sweet to them and hyped them up every time they did well. It was even more fascinating to watch him play. When the team decided to take a break, he approached you, taking his water bottle from where you were sitting.

You couldn't help but check him out in the team uniform. The blue tank top and shorts exposed the muscles on his arms and thighs. He titled his head back, pouring the water into his mouth. You watched his Adam's apple bob with every gulp, and the way a few drops of water rolled down his lips and chin. His jawline looked sharper, and you saw a bead of sweat travelling down the side of his face. San looked undeniably attractive, especially with his new eyebrow piercing and dyed black hair; he already looked so good with his previous brown hair, and now he looked irresistible.

"Y/N, I asked you something," San said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry, what were you saying?" you hoped he didn't notice you checking him out. San and you have surprisingly not had any fights recently, and he wasn't making any comments to piss you off either. You wondered why he suddenly changed his behavior towards you after years of getting on your nerves.

He smirked, pointing to his little red bag. "Could you open my bag and give me the green towel?" You did as he said, unkowingly blushing. San noticed everything, but he didn't say anything about it yet. He wiped the sweat off his face with the towel, suddenly leaning in close to your face. Your eyes darted between his eyes and his lips, and your heartbeat sped up. San reached behind you to take his bag, shoving the towel and his water bottle inside. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, mentally reminding yourself to get your shit together. You glanced at your friends, relieved that they were too busy talking to notice the little scene between you and San; you knew they would tease the shit out of you if they saw what happened.

"Y/N," Yeosang called out. "You're coming for the party tomorrow night, no?"

"Of course," you said, a little confused as to why he suddenly asked. "Jiwoo would kill me if I missed it."

Jiwoo turned her head at the mention of her name. "Damn right, I would," she said with a nod.

Yeosang smirked. "You're coming in my car."

"I have to sit on San's lap?!" you half-yelled at Yeosang.

"Yeah, Yunho is sitting in the front with the Pegasus glass figurine he got for Jiwoo. The painting I got is in the backseat, and our bags are in the trunk. So you don't have a choice."

You bit your lip. "Fine."

You waited outside the car until San and Yunho came from their dorm. You wondered why San wasn't surprised when you told him you had to sit on his lap, but you brushed it off, assuming Yeosang would've told him earlier.

San was dressed in all black: ripped jeans, a leather jacket and a black t-shirt underneath it. You sat on his lap, closing the car door. He looked irresistible and his Chanel perfume made him smell so good, you didn't know how you'd survive the half an hour long car ride to Jiwoo's mansion without him noticing you inhaling his scent like air.

San gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him so that you could sit comfortably. Yeosang started driving and you hoped time would go really fast.

Unfortunately, time seemed to be going really slow for you.

San pushed your hair to one side, making you lean back a little so that your back was pressed against his chest. "Sit comfortably, I don't bite," he whispered in your ear.

Yunho was talking about something, but you paid no attention. The only thing you could focus on was San's beautiful voice and laughs while you blankly stared out the window.

San noticed you weren't paying attention. He leaned forward a little, his lips coming in contact with the bare skin of your shoulder, making goosebumps arise on your skin. "Are you cold?" San teased when he saw the goosebumps on your bare thighs; you cursed yourself for wearing a short off-shoulder dress.

"Yeah, I am," you lied. San rubbed his palms together before placing them on your thighs. You gasped softly at his warm touch. He gently rubbed your thighs, trying to warm you up like as if he didn't know why you got goosebumps in the first place.

"We're here, guys," Yeosang announced, pulling up into Jiwoo's mansion that was lit up with a lot of LED lights.

You quickly got out of the car once Yeosang parked, running to hug Jiwoo.

"Happy eighteenth, Jiwoo!"

She chuckled. "Thank you, Y/N!"

"I can't wait to see you drunk!" you said with a giggle, excited that your friend could finally drink. She playfully rolled her eyes, dragging you inside to where half your school was while she told you which room you would be staying in. You were sure there were nearly two hundred people here, but you weren't surprised; Jiwoo's birthday parties were always like this.

"By the way, you're sharing a room with San tonight," Jiwoo said.

Your eyes widened. "What?! Why? Wasn't I supposed to be sleeping in your room?"

"Yeah," she said. "But, um... Yunho might be there and I don't think you'd want to witness us—"

"Okay, okay!" you half-yelled. "Why can't I sleep in Eunhee's room?"

"Ask Hongjoong if he's willing to switch with you," she chuckled and you groaned, knowing very well your twin brother would rather sleep next to his girlfriend than next to his friend.

But maybe he would agree? After all, he's quite protective of you and he wouldn't let you sleep next to a guy.

"Absolutely not," Hongjoong replied when you asked him to switch places with you.

"Joong! How can you let your baby sister sleep with a guy?" you whined.

He shrugged. "I trust San more than any other guy here. Besides, I need some privacy with my girl, you know? The dorms aren't a very great place to—"

You slammed your palm over his mouth, shutting him up. "I get it! I'll just deal with it."

You walked over to the bar, getting a whiskey and coke. You didn't have an issue with sleeping next to San; you just didn't know how you'd control yourself around him, especially after what happened hardly an hour ago.

After Jiwoo cut her huge birthday cake and popped a bottle of Champagne, some people from your grade sat down in one of the rooms to play truth or dare. Wooyoung and Mingi literally begged you to play and of course, you couldn't refuse.

"All right, I'm gonna spin it," Jongho said, spinning an empty beer bottle. It landed on Yeosang. "Truth or dare, hyung?" Jongho asked.

"Truth," he answered.

"I got one!" Seonghwa said, turning to smirk at Yeosang. "Do you like a certain Japanese girl who's in your economics class?" You chuckled, glancing at the Japanese girl who was sitting right across Yeosang.

Yeosang smirked. "Of course I like my girlfriend." Your jaw dropped and so did many other's. You glanced at Mayumi who was clearly blushing; she reminded you so much of Yeosang.

"Kang Yeosang! You sly shit!" Wooyoung yelled, playfully tackling his friend to the ground.

"I knew something was happening between them!" Hongjoong stated with a laugh, making Mayumi turn pinker than she already was.

After a few more rounds, some people left, making the circle of people smaller. Eunhee spun the bottle and it landed on herself.

"Truth or dare?" Mingi asked.

"Truth."

"Is Hongjoong hyung a dom or a sub?" Mingi asked with a smirk.

"Both, but mostly a dom," she answered, unbothered.

"I'm not even surprised," Wooyoung said before spinning the bottle. It landed on you.

"Truth or dare, Y/N?" Wooyoung asked, a smile dancing on his lips.

"I'll go with dare."

Wooyoung grinned mischievously. "I dare you to . . . give San a hickey." You choked on nothing in particular.

"In front of you all?"

"Obviously not!" Hongjoong said in disgust. "I'd rather not witness that."

Your friends cheered for you when you got up and dragged San along with you to the room you both had to share tonight. Your heart raced with every step you took, and when he closed the door, the only sound you could hear was your pounding heartbeat.

San removed his shoes before sitting on the middle of the bed. You took off your heels, getting on the bed as well.

"Where do you want it?" you asked, avoiding eye-contact.

"Below my collarbone or here," he pointed to an area of the left side of his neck. You decided to give it on his neck because you've never given a collarbone hickey, so you didn't want to screw it up and embarrass yourself in front of the man who was currently driving you crazy.

San sat against the headboard of the bed, letting you straddle his lap. You placed a hand at his nape and the other at his shoulder, leaning in to place your lips on his neck. You gently brushed your lips against his skin before kissing around the area for a while. Your hand at his nape moved into his hair, tugging on it. San groaned softly, hands gripping your waist while he tilted his head to give you more access. You started to suck on his skin, making sure you bit him gently and gave him a few little licks. San's hands pushed you down on his growing bulge, making you moan against his skin. You pulled away from his neck, eyes instantly locking with his. You glanced between his eyes and his lips, unknowingly biting your own. San freed your bottom lip with his thumb, running it over your lip.

"I'd like to bite that lip," San said in a low tone. You couldn't control yourself anymore. You crashed your lips onto his and he responded just as eagerly as you. San took your bottom lip in between his teeth, gently pulling and biting on it, making you moan. He smirked, pulling away. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this."

"Don't you hate me?" you asked, shocked by his little confession.

San flipped you onto your back, hovering over you. He pressed his bulge against you. "What do you think?" he whispered, making you blush. "Y/N, you drive me absolutely crazy. I've liked you ever since ninth grade." Your eyes widened; he has liked you ever since he joined your school?!

"But— Then why were you always fighting with me?" you couldn't help but ask, even though right now wasn't a very... appropriate time.

"Remember how I was back then? I was so nerdy and you liked guys who were the complete opposite of that," he said, cupping your cheek. "No matter how hard I tried to get you to like someone like me, it just never worked. You always liked seniors and dated playboys. And then when I started screwing around, you still didn't like me. I guess... I guess that's why I fought with you a lot and it got worse over the years."

"San, you were perfect," you murmured. "I always thought you were way too good for me, that's why I never really bothered." you ran your hand through his hair. "I'm sorry for making you change yourself..."

San shook his head, lying beside you on the bed. "It's not your fault. I was fifteen and stupid, Y/N. Besides, I'm used to being like this now." You bit your lip, not knowing what to say. "Y/N, I hated seeing you with Yonghee. I know you guys aren't dating, but the thought of you with him or with anyone else... I really hate it," he looked like he wanted to say something, but he was hesitating a lot. You cupped his cheek, giving him an encouraging smile.

San took a deep breath. "Um, Y/N, do you... feel the same way about me?" You immediately kissed him as an answer, making him blush and sigh in relief.

"Well, my dare is complete," you murmured, fingers running over the hickey you had given him. You leaned in, placing a soft kiss on it. "How about we continue from where we left off?" you whispered in his ear.

San smirked, pulling you close to his body by your waist. "Mhmm, I'd like that."

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maplecornia · 3 years

Text

chapter 35

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.04K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

"For your information, I am very against this."

"I thought you were looking forward to starting your training."

You glare at Namjoon when he makes the snide comment, and he has to struggle to keep his smile hidden at the reaction. Pouting in your chair, the stylist has to press her hand on your back to remind you to sit straight. At your reluctance, Namjoon's smile only grows and you struggle to ignore the rise of adoration in your chest.

Rolling your eyes you turn to your reflection in the mirror.

You're nearly unrecognizable.

With heavy lashes brushing against your cheek each time you blink, contour thinning your face, dark eyeliner helping your eyes pop out against the blush on your cheeks, you find it had to remember the way you looked before. Were your eyes always this bright? Did you always have this curl to your lashes? Were your cheeks this rosy, did you have that red hue to your lips? Did they always look so full and appealing?

Swallowing hard, you wonder if you're ready for this.

When Jin told you you'd be modeling today you thought he was joking. But BangPD wouldn't joke about something like this and when you got the call from him it only secured your fears. Biting your bottom lip, you fidget once more in your chair, the stylist sighing behind you.

Sheepishly, you go still, choosing instead to wrap your hands tightly around the arms of the chair. The stylist resumes their work silently, no doubt unaware of the insecurities rising in your chest. Namjoon is different, however, and noticing the way you've suddenly gone silent he glances towards you in worry.

"Is she ready?" Jin's voice breaks through the busybody chaos of the dressing room as he enters, the stylist performing the finishing touches to your hair.

Still holding forms of animosity towards him, you roll your eyes adeptly ignoring him. If he notices he doesn't show it, just angles past your retreating stylist and places his hands on the back of your chair trying to catch your eye. You raise your brow his way, refusing to return his smile. Noting the growing tension, Namjoon clears his throat, heading over to you as well and helping you out of the chair.

"I should hope so, doesn't she look ready?" He murmurs a bit nervously, and nudges you, clearly screaming at you to make nice with Jin and let bygones be bygones. You roll your eyes at the not-so-subtle signs and force a somewhat convincing smile towards the veteran. Jin nods in satisfaction before leading the three of you to the door, bowing respectfully to the rest of the staff.

Jin shivers in anticipation as he heads down the corridor. "Kind of nervewracking huh?"

Glaring him out of the corner of your eye, you scoff.

"Wasn't this your idea?"

Unfazed, Jin leans down peering into your eyes.

"Was it?"

Biting the inside of your cheek, you flick his forehead with your thumb and forefinger and he reels back, groaning in pain. You can't help but smile in satisfaction, but when you turn to Namjoon, his disapproving stare is enough to make the smile fade away.

"He started it." You mutter under your breath as you enter the shooting area.

Multiple set pieces and lights, bustling people hurrying from one set to another, sounds of photos being taken, bright flashes, and shouts from one side of the room to another. Models in flashy apparel, makeup artists, and stylists are ready to touch up anyone who needs it.

As you come face to face with the sight, you have to refrain from cursing underneath your breath.

"Ah Yen, good you're ready." At the voice, you blink out of your reverie only to find Sejin standing before the three of you. "Thank you for doing this again."

The head of BTS' management team, you've only met the man once before. He looks the same as he did then. Tall and intimidating, burly but with kind eyes. Graying black hair and signature glasses rest on his nose, a soft smile always playing on his lips. He puts you at ease, gives you a sense of familiarity and comfort.

"Of course, sir." You bow your head respectfully towards him, ignoring the incredulous look Jin makes beside you.

"Favoritism." He murmurs under his breath, and you wonder silently if Sejin will notice you elbowing him hard in his gut.

"They won't show your face that much, so all you have to do is stand there and look pretty for the camera. Simple enough, right?" Sejin explains, either pretending to be or completely oblivious to the exchange you and Jin just had. You nod as he turns away, picking up a call from his phone.

"Yeah..." You shakily look down at your hands, praying for them to stop shaking. "Simple."

Namjoon glances your way and reaches for your hand, prepared to offer you some words of encouragement, but another voice breaks through the chaos and he flinches away as soon as your head snaps up once more.

"Let's get going everyone!"

A man stands amidst the bustling crowd, with a clipboard in his hands and an earpiece secured in his ear. A couple of people are constantly trailing after him, asking questions and then darting away to carry out another set of tasks. He wears extravagant yet down-to-earth clothing, something that lets you know he's important but still a part of the background.

"Who's..." you start to say, but Namjoon, following your gaze, already answering your question as he folds his arms.

"That's the director for the shoot." He sighs, almost in exhaustion. Jin nods at his explanation getting the same worn-out look on his face at the sight of the man.

"He's just a little...eccentric." He adds to Namjoon's assumption, and you can't help but snort. Luckily, Jin doesn't seem to notice.

"That's rich coming from you." You mutter under your breath, holding your hand over your mouth to conceal your small giggles of laughter. Namjoon nudges you again to remind you to be respectful, but even he can't keep the smile off his face at the comparison.

"You must be Yen!"

At the shout from across the studio, you flinch as you turn to see the director just a few feet away from you. He takes your hand in his and shakes it excitably, and you have to resist the urge to remind him of personal space.

"My name is Deokhwa, thank you for filling in today."

You smile weakly at his enthusiasm, trying to read his excitement and understand why it's necessary.

"It's no problem."

Almost as soon as he was by your side, he turns on his heel and heads the other way once more calling out instructions to the staff members scuttling around.

"Can we get Taehyung and Jungkook into hair and makeup, please?! This should have been done ages ago!" With wide eyes, you watch him leave, your hand still outstretched where he had shaken it moments ago.

"Is he always like this?"

"Sometimes it's worse," Jin whispers in your ear, and you can't help it, you laugh, any hostility held against him now gone. There wasn't any reason for you to be mad at him, but it's just startling.

Aren't you supposed to be prepared for things like this? But standing here, you couldn't feel more out of place.

"Suga and Jimin, get into costume! Someone touch up Yoongi's hair please, he fell asleep...again."

Swallowing hard, you consider turning on your heel and running out of there. You wonder what they'd do if you just gave everything up now. You'd be okay, right? You've dealt with letting down people before. This wouldn't be anything different.

Then you remember.

The only person you'd be hurting would be yourself.

Clenching your jaw tight, you root your feet to the ground, refusing to let yourself get intimidated. Yes, you're not fully prepared, but you can do this. You have to do this.

"Hoseok!" Deokhwa calls for Jhope who's dawdling around near Suga. He turns at the sound of his name, Yoongi opening an eye, half-delirious and half annoyed. "Are you ready?"

"Yes sir!" He nods, a little too excited. Suga winces from his place beside Jhope, and pulls a pillow off the couch he was sleeping on.

"Then you and Yen can go first, alright?" Deokhwa decides, crossing something off of his clipboard. Jhope nods, saluting the director with a wide smile.

"Roger that!" He shouts once more, unbeknownst of Yoongi winding up behind him, and smacking the pillow straight into his back. Jhope shrieks, startled before turning to Suga and delving into a slight argument.

Namjoon, shaking his head at the encounter, almost forgets that you're right beside him. It's only when you take a deep breath to steady your nerves does he remember, turning to you. Biting his bottom lip, he considers reaching out to console you but pulls away hesitantly. Instead, he clears his throat, gathering your attention.

"Don't worry so much." He murmurs, glancing your way and sending you a slightly awkward but reassuring smile. "You can do this."

You return the smile, finding his concern to be comforting before turning to Deokhwa and heading over there to meet Jhope.

Maybe he's right, maybe you can do this.

Or maybe you're in over your head.

Standing in the middle of the set, you find yourself freezing, unable to move at the sight of so many eyes on you, so many cameras pointed your way. Ready to capture your every move, your every expression, your every misstep. You can't move, afraid that you'll screw everything up. Everything is so perfect, everything is set where it's supposed to be, what if you'll break it when you touch it? Anxiety growing larger and larger within your gut you try your hardest not to break down.

Why did they think you were ready for this? You don't even know what to do, much less how to do it even if you could figure out how to move again. Deokhwa tries his hardest to give you directions, but it's lost within the noise in your head. Static grows, mixing in with the bright lights and eyes staring at you, waiting to devour you and pick you apart as though you were a doll meant for their enjoyment.

When his hand wraps around your arm, sending warmth throughout your shaking body, you find yourself completely helpless. He pulls you to his side, his hands strong and sure behind you, making sure that you won't fall on his watch. You look to him, wondering if he can see how vulnerable you are at the moment, wondering if he knows that you aren't as strong as you pretend to be.

Jhope only smiles, brushing your hair off of your forehead and giving you a soft kiss in their place. You blink, shocked at the sudden show of affection, and equally as shocked when the camera flashes, taking a shot of the encounter.

Flinching, you turn to the camera, and the director, who's grinning from ear to ear. "That was great! Keep it up you two! And Yen, it's okay to be nervous at first, don't worry you'll get the hang of it."

Sheepishly, you nod, any fear or anxiety you had before quickly fading away in an instant. As the shooting commences, you turn to Jhope who has since let go of you and let out a soft sigh of relief.

"Thank you."

Hoseok glances at you from the corner of his eye, chuckling to himself as he takes your hands and leads you over to another section of the set. Dubiously still posing for the cameramen of the shoot. You notice, and can't help but smile. He really is kind.

"For what?"

At his question, you give him a look, but the innocent smile on his face only grows wider. It's a smile that tells you he knows exactly what he did, but he won't admit to it. You roll your eyes at the notion, finding it so like him, and yet so infuriating.

Instead, he picks up a bouquet and hands it to you. "There's nothing to thank me for, it's only right to help out someone new on set."

You take the flowers delicately into your hands, finding them to be an exquisite array of daffodils and sunflowers, a few peonies dotted here and there. You raise the flowers to your face, inhaling the sweet scent. As you do, Jhope smiles affectionately, multiple flashes from the camera capturing every second. However, the two of you are too distracted to care.

"Do you know what these flowers mean?" He asks you, and you look up at him, shaking your head silently. He chuckles at the curious spark in your eye and takes one of the daffodil petals into his hands, stepping closer to you.

"Daffodil's represent rebirth and new beginnings." He explains. "The first bloom after winter fades."

New beginnings. You wonder if there's any left for you to find.

"The sunflower is simple. A sign of happiness and good fortune. Peonies are difficult, however."

"How so?" You ask him, and he smiles, lifting a one from the bouquet.

"They mean something different all over the world. In Greece, they are known to represent bashfulness. In Japan, they're associated with bravery and honor." Looking up at you through his long eyelashes, he brushes his finger across your cheek as he tucks the flower behind your ear. "Generally though, they can be known to represent prosperity and love."

At the mention of the word, both of you look at the other. There's something in his eyes, something that reminds you of the way Jungkook has looked at you before. The same electrifying look that Taehyung has sent your way. The same connection you shared with the masked man.

He only pulls away from your touch long enough to set the flowers aside, then his hands reach for yours and they soon intertwine together.

Maybe it's the strange feeling of the set or the weird way the flowers have resonated with you, but you can feel your heartbeat increasing with every step he takes towards you. He presses his forehead against yours, and you find yourself avoiding his eyes, your cheeks flushing a bright red. Swallowing hard, you look up to find his eyes hooded, all traces of his once comforting smile now gone and replaced with something more sentimental.

"What?" you whisper.

"What do you mean?" This time, he doesn't smile innocently, instead, his warm hands tighten around yours, creating a cocoon around the two of you. You take a shaky breath, trying to refuse the loud pounding of your heart in your ears.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

He offers you no answer, only takes a step closer, your bodies now able to feel the other's warmth. A comforting feeling, one that lets you know that you still breathe and feel the same if not a bit different from the other. He presses his thumb against your cheek, rubbing it softly over your skin in a delicate motion. With wide eyes, you look up at him, wondering what is there that has entranced him so.

"Did you know you have a freckle here?"

Before you can move or even respond, Deokhwa's voice cuts through the cocoon, and the both of you are brought back to the harsh reality you had once escaped from in the arms of the other.

"Alright! That's a wrap, good job you two. Hoseok you can now get changed for your solo shots, and Namjoon get ready you'll be next."

When Jhope pulls away, you find yourself frozen, and confused.

Was that...was that all an act?

Watching him bow slightly to the director and cameramen, but still stay a considerable distance away from you, you can't help but feel a bit slighted. It all felt so real. Could he really have been faking it--?

And so what if he had?

Blushing profusely, you place your hands on your cheeks cursing and begging the rosy hue to erase itself from your skin.

Honestly, Yen, what were you expecting? He doesn't even know you that well, certainly not as well as Namjoon or Tae...

And why are you bringing those two into this?!

Inwardly, you groan. Having all of these idols around you 24/7 isn't doing any favors for your heart. Biting your bottom lip, you feel the darkness growing inside of you once more as you remember your promise.

Not now Yen.

Not yet.

Chuckling nervously, you turn to Jhope.

"You're good at this."

Hoseok looks towards you, once more feigning innocence. You almost want to strangle that puppy dog look from his eyes. It's as though he refuses to show you a real side to him. It's maddening, you can't seem to figure him out.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and you force a smile, beneath your grimace. Taking a deep breath, you pull the peony from your ear, smiling softly.

"You know...faking." You say the word before you realize how insulting it could be interpreted. At Hoseok's slight eyebrow raise, you grimace noting that he took it exactly that way. You stammer, scrambling for the right way to make up for your wrong usage of words. "I mean, you're a good actor! I almost believed that was real."

Jhope looks as though he wants to say something in response, but before he can, Deokhwa call from beyond the set, near a couple of stylists touching up Namjoon's makeup before he heads up.

"Come on you two! Come take a look at the monitor."

You nod, silently thanking God for giving you a weird and eccentric director. You don't notice the odd way Hoseok is looking at you, nor do you realize that he's taken a step closer to you. Placing his hand on your shoulder, you jump a bit, turning to him, but his lips are already by your ear, his breath hot and dancing on your skin.

You try your hardest not to shiver as he whispers his next words, the sound reverberating in your eardrums.

"I wasn't faking anything."

𝔞/𝔫: i feel like we have hardly any Jhope moments so here you go! i hope this is a nice one, even if it's kind of short ;-;

chapter 36 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

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curiousconch · 3 years

Text

Chase You / Chase Me (Pt. 3)

Part 3: Remember when everything was different

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Aislinn, Gigi and Alex find friendship in the midst of the competition. One discussion led to another, pushing Alex to take a trip down memory lane, revealing the moment in her past where she and Gabe's paths crossed for the first time.

Book/Pairing: Choices - Laws of Attraction / Gabe Ricci x MC (Alex Keating)

Words: 1.7k+

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / alcohol consumption, language. Scenes/themes may trigger trauma for some, reader discretion advised.

Disclaimer: Most of the characters as well as some dialogue belong to Pixelberry. I am merely borrowing them.

Sunday, downtown New York

"Wait, can you back up for a moment," Aislinn said across Alex, who was scooping the remains of her melted banana split. Gigi was sipping her ice-cold mimosa, their brunch table full of plates with scrapes of leftovers. The sun was out and so were they, dining al fresco under the shade of a huge white parasol and the gentle breeze cooling them every now and then. It was a perfect day so far.

The trio has agreed to meet up that Sunday to discuss what went down with the Rothswell case as well as to prep for the conference Sadie had invited them to. They were on some kind of a peace pact, all of them sharing the view that pitting women against women in the corporate world is just shitty business.

Alex has enjoyed their company. They exchanged imaginary one-liners that would have made Martin frown his heart out or Beau McGraw chortle his head off. And speaking of McGraw, they all concluded that the best strategic course of action was to let Beau enjoy his moment in the sun. One day, Alex would make sure to remind him that he tried to rain on her parade.

It was a refreshing and enlightening discussion, though she will forever be traumatized with how many swears Gigi can cram in a single sentence. But the sight of a flustered Aislinn while Alex and Gigi engaged in a battle of pick-up lines with their waiter was a strong second contender.

As their drinks flowed, the conversation naturally led to rhetorical questions, now settling at why they became a lawyer. Aislinn shared first, surprisingly, stating that her knack for analysis was just a natural fit to the demands of a career in law. Gigi's answer was simple - she can leverage her eidetic memory to earn herself some serious dough, allowing her to live it up and take impromptu vacations to Bali.

Alex tried to dodge the question. She had never needed to discuss her reason of leaving pre-med behind to attend law school. It wasn't a pleasant memory, and she doubted it will ever be.

The two ladies were quick to see her attempts of evasion. But together, they finally wore her down, Alex left laughing with their shenanigans as they cornered her to tell her story. So she told them that she knew Gabe Ricci. And that it was because of him why she was a lawyer. Alex decided that revealing the truth was worth it, seeing how their jaws just dropped to the floor.

"Girl, you have to explain yourself right now," Gigi demanded, to which Aislinn seconded.

Alex snorted as she went back to skimming what was left of her dessert. "It's a boring sob story, and I don't want to turn this lovely morning into a snooze fest."

"We're not going anywhere, right Gi?" Aislinn turned to Gigi beside her, who nodded whilst sipping another glass of cocktail.

"Fine, but only if you swear this won't leave this table," she said. The two held up their hands invoking a half-smiling Alex, sensing nothing but sincerity. So she drank down her glass of bloody mary and took a deep breath, composing her tale.

"Buckle up, ladies, you're in for a ride."

10 years ago, in a town near Boston

Alessandra Keating had never felt more alone than she did that day.

They said she needed to just move forward. But how can she, when every day since the crash, she felt nothing but emptiness? How can she feel alright, when the only life that she knew was suddenly taken away from her?

It wasn't long before she found out that the car accident was caused by someone being reckless, by someone who thought they were above the law. Then, she imploded. No way could she let her parent's deaths be forgotten. No fucking way.

For the past three years, she invested all of herself into this endeavor. Researching, studying, choosing the right counsel, even raising funds. It was what kept her breathing, what gave her purpose. Ultimately, it was what kept her sane.

From filing the lawsuit to attending mediations, to numerous settlement meetings and colliding with every legal roadblock possible - Alex made sure to see them through. Only for everything to be decided that day - the bench trial.

One sweltering summer morning in her hometown's courthouse, Alex sat on the side of the plaintiff, with her long brunette hair tangled in waves. She let her senses wander, taking in the dark wooden panels and pews, her sense of smell invaded by the scent of old mahogany. She sealed her lips into silence, hiding her nerves by straightening the bargain khaki suit that she borrowed.

She barely held it in as her eyes travelled to the table beside them, catching a glimpse of the man that caused her immeasurable pain. With jet black hair and looking as young as her, he sat with an almost mocking expression. He was wearing a crisper set of suit, creating an illusion of trustworthiness that Alex can easily see through.

Maximilian K. Cornell. The green-eyed teenager who swerved his sports car onto the same slippery road Alex and her parents were passing through. The very same boy who got out unharmed, but left Alex's family to die in the snow. Her opponent was a slithery snake who managed to screw the justice system so many times over, just because his parents had the grease to do so.

But after the crash, the town decided they can no longer turn the other cheek. Alex's decision to sue was propelled by the support of the countless friends and families whom her parents have helped in their hour of need. But that still proved not enough.

Her mind whirled back to the proceedings, and to how every strategy, every plan of attack was being thrown out. With every whip from the defense, she started to grow impatient. As another traffic expert from her camp was dismissed, Alex just snapped inside. She leaned to Mr. Leroy, a withering man on the brink of retirement who was her lawyer, asking for them to convene outside.

"I'm sorry Mr. Leroy, but your strategies were just scrutinized and torn into pieces," Alex said in a low voice the moment they stepped out into the hallway.

"Alex, I am doing my best here. We clearly don't have the upper hand, lacking the incriminating evidence that we need," the man replied, exasperated.

"Have we dug up his previous records? I mean, why on earth would he have a sealed history? Doesn't that mean something?" she continued.

She continued to dictate her litany of better-positioned moves, but even Alex knew she wasn't getting through. So she excused herself from the conversation, hoping a cup of iced coffee will somehow mitigate her frustrations.

As soon as she came back, she found Mr. Leroy convening with a much younger man in a dark navy suit. His aura screamed "big city hotshot", albeit the exhausted look in his brown eyes. Not wanting to interrupt, she held off from approaching. However, her curiosity didn't stop her from eavesdropping.

What she heard the charismatic man say was a legal precedent that would have opened the sealed records in question. And with all the mind-boggling legal jargon, that's just about what she understood.

"Gabriel Ricci? I'm looking for an attorney named Gabriel Ricci?" a female voice from a nearby window called out, which made the young man raise his head. She saw him end the conversation abruptly, where a flustered Mr. Leroy hastily thanked him. Alex took that as her queue to approach her lawyer.

"Alex, we might be able to turn things around," she heard Leroy say.

And by some miracle, things did turn around. With her lawyer using the precedent offered by the young attorney earlier, their side gained the needed momentum to tip the scales in their favor. By the end of the trial, the verdict was out - Cornell will never be able to drive another vehicle, along with paying her a hefty amount of damages and fees.

They won.

Alex had to pinch herself before the victory sunk in. When it did, she felt an immense burden lifted from her shoulders.

After a long, long time, Alex can finally breathe.

Broken free from her nightmares, she asked herself what's next? The answer came to her almost immediately. Right there and then, she decided what she wanted to be. Like that man from the courthouse, she will become a lawyer.

Fueled by this new sense of mission, she saw a future for herself. No longer held by the past, she finally was able to move forward.

Indeed, Alex became what she set out to do - a lawyer who took on hopeless, even impossible cases and won them. A lawyer her parents would be proud of.

A damn good lawyer, just like Gabriel Ricci.

Present Day, at a New York Penthouse

Gabe sat in his home office clad in nothing but his white bath robe, holding a worn manila folder.

Five years ago, Gabe saw this case as his opportunity to make Robbie proud. The defendant had all the parallels with his brother - a teenager, incarcerated young, where the punishment had presumed to be too harsh. He now knew it was rightfully just.

But at that time, he was blinded by passion and ambition. He wanted to prove to himself and to Sadie what he can do. Taking on this case that was practically unwinnable would give him more power, more control over the pro bono cases he wanted to take. Actually winning this though, that proved to be his fatal mistake.

Your cockiness got the better of you again, Ricci.

His mind went to Alex. That was the direction his every waking moment drifted to nowadays. Whether he liked it or not, he'd answer some other day.

He had to let her know. If he didn't, Alex would eventually find out herself. Once she discovers that he was the one who had set this man free, she would hate him.

Gabe can't bring himself to think of that happening, of losing that chance with her, or of losing Alex's trust.

Hell, I'm going to lose her entirely if she finds out.

These realizations devastated him.

But how can they both escape the looming shadows of the past unscathed? Even he couldn't figure that out.

Sighing, he rubbed his hand on his face, reeling at his lack of options. He then stood up, slamming the open folder on his desk as he turned to face the window, simmering in his own regrets. Papers slipped out to the carpeted floor, including a full-page mugshot of the defendant.

It was Maximilian Cornell.

Author's Notes: With Sadie being shady AF, I feel like we all need some dose of female friendship right? Also, this is my HC why Gabe constantly pulls away from MC, not only because of their working relationship. Did the reveal live up to the cliffhanger? Let me know in the comments! 👇👇👇

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@choicesficwriterscreations

Thank you for your continued reading!

Want to be added or removed to the tag list? No problem - just let me know 😊. Reblogs are also much appreciated! 💕

#laws of attraction #choices laws of attraction #choices loa #laws of attraction fanfiction #choices laws of attraction fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #gabe ricci x mc #gabe ricci #aislinn tanaka #gigi sinclair

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zuffer-weird-girl · 3 years

Text

@glassartpeasants I blame you for this.

Heartless, demon, cruel, cold, murder...

Those were honestly the kindest words you ever heard of him... yet your heart spoke the exact opposite.

The man could even commit arson right on your front and you couldn't just be... mad at him. Your thoughts about Chisaki never changed despite the attrocities he said and did on all those past few months.

Yet something truly did angered you. How he couldn't give a fuck about you.

After the boss entered on a coma for unknown reasons, Chisaki wasn't the same. Heck, now he demanded to be called by the name of his quirk, Overhaul. Is that or being a pool of blood and mutilated limbs on the ground.

Yet... you felt hope. You really felt hope that this man could change. Be the young man that you met and fell for. Just... notice something.

Notice your pain like he used to... or even show a tad bit of... care. That's all you wanted. Kai would always know when you were sad, on his own way try to comfort you. But now? He didn't even cared...

One tear of yours brushed past the cracks of your cheeks as you winced at only touching it... sighing a bit, you grabbed your mask and put it on. Ready to start the day.

Walking past the halls you saw the man himself standing on his foot. Your face brighten up a bit as you walked towards him.

"Ka-" you stopped immediately when he gaved you a harsh glare "Sorry... Overhaul. Good morning Overhaul." You mumbled.

He only scoffed, walking away from you and simply lifting his hand.

"I dont have time for this. Get to your work and don't bother me."

Each sentence like this one was like a stab on your chest... why would he answer a good morning of yours like that?

"A-Actually.." you tried to muster as he stopped with an annoyed sigh "Can we.. please talk?"

He narrowed his golden eyes at you, looking as if he had been staring at something hideous and that just fucking spitted on his face.

"Make it quick." He grunted, one of his hands resting on his hips as the other remained on one of his pockets.

"I-Is kinda silly ..." you poked your fingers together "I-I mean, we've know each other for more than years already and-"

"Spit it out." He hissed and your smiled dropped.

"... is just that... I felt like I needed to say it." You lifted up your head and stared at him without fear "I.. like you.. more than anything."

"... fine." He simply said like he was expecting something else as your body started to tremble.

".. fine? Is that.." you gulped the thick air on your throat "Is that all you have to say at someone who is confessing feelings for you?"

"Tch." He rolled his eyes before giving his back to you, only giving a side glance "That wasn't a surprise for me. You're like one of those loyal dogs. No matter how much they are kicked they come back crawling towards their owners."

You widened your eyes as you felt the crack on your cheek deepen.

"What?" You let out a gasp of disbelief as he blinked.

"For your information." He narrowed his golden orb at you harder "I dont like to repeat myself. You're just a toy and a obedient scum that is meant to follow my orders. Is only a matter of a lackey, in that case you, and the master." He started to walk as you stood dumbfounded.

Your hands formed into fists as your jaw clenched, finally a feeling you never thought you could feel towards this man appeared. Anger.

Without thinking you grabbed a vase and threw hard enough to almost hit his head, missing by a few inches as he widened his eyes at it.

He looked at the broken vase on the floor in shock before looking towards you, breathing in and out as you felt your skin cracking even more.

"If all I am to you is a loyal pet..." you breathed out, taking your mask off and eventually showing the cracks on your skin to him and the curious precepts coming to see the scene. "THEN YOU CAN TAKE THIS!" you threw the mask towards him that kicked on the floor and almost landed on his feet.

"You have some nerve now.." he growled, taking off his glove as a threat.

"DONT COME TO THIS SHIT TOWARDS ME NOW CHISAKI!" you shouted with a finger pointing at him as he felt his shoulders tense.

Never on your life with him you ever called him by his once surname.

"I was really the only one on this fucking house to truly respect you! Not by fear as almost everyone on here, but because I really am so stupid to fall in love with a bastard, selfish and arrogant man like yourself!" You walked towards him to be standing chest to chest with him as finger was aimed at his face.

"Quiet down." He growled before finally noticing the many cracks and pieces of your skin falling on the ground as you shouted "(Y/n) what-"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" You shouted so loudly that even Rappa winced at the anger of your voice... every precept seing the scene as you breathed in and out "If you want to kill me do it now... would be a favor for yourself wouldn't it?" You glared at him as he blinked, still in shock at your actions.

"Not a word?" You commented as you winced at the cracks going to your neck already "For these past few years I wanted to see you happy, succeed... I fucking loved you..." you whispered in pain, dropping your head a bit, taking out a gift Chisaki had given to you a few years ago, a black and white bracelet you never once took off every since now.

".. I was stupid." You lift up your head with a frown and let the bracelet fall into the floor as you gave your back to him and almost ran out of the house.

He was in state of shock before he narrowed his eyes at the subbordinates and commanded them to get back to work... just when all of them left he crouched down to pick both your mask and the bracelet.

"... she will be back. It was just a tantrum." He sighed, taking the two of your once possesions to hsi office "But.. what on hell was that thing on her face?"

Five months... five months flew by since you exited the Shie Hassaikai for good. Going into the doctors to just search for a damn cure... but it was impossible.

"I'm sorry my dear, there is nothing we can do if..." your doctor of years tries to speak through the pain as you stood in the chair, your arms with cracks as part of your cheek was gone.

"I understand." You said, hollow as you always had been after leaving that house. "Thank you for your time... I will see you on the other side then." You managed a smile to the old man as he could only drop his head in shame when you left his office.

People you brushed through the streets looked at you with pity... and you hated.

You evicted the Shie Hassaikai like the plague himself. And one time you could feel Chrono following you.. it was the last straw when he followed you at the appartment you were living on the subborns.

"Go away Kurono." You muttered, feeling him watching you get your keys and open the door, and before you could close the door you groaned at sieng the black boot on the door, preventing you to close it.

"Can we at least talk? I'm not him." He said while taking off his mask, a wince escaping his lips as soon as he saw you on the state you were "What the-"

"Shattered heart disease... dont have a cure." You mumbled, eyes stuck on the floor as a piece of your ear cracked and fell.

"Holy fuck..." the man sighed shakily "Listen, maybe if you come back to the Hassaikai Overhaul can-"

"No." You grabbed the handle and forced the door "It was because of him I am on this state. And I know you came here by his others, and let me say one thing" let me die in peace." You slammed the door shut as Chrono groaned.

"Both of you are just so thick skull it gets on my nerves!" He kicked the door as you rolled your eyes, locking and going to the bed.

The man glared at the door before sighing, looking at his cellphone ringing and leaving the place.

"Forget it man. (Y/n) doesn't wanna see you or the Shie Hassaikai even if we offered her tons of gold."

"... fine. You did what I order so there is nothing that we cant do."

"Be honest Kai.. you do have feelings for her, for a long time." He ignored the disgusted "tch" on the other end of the call "And honestly? If I were on your shoes I would be almost killing myself to fix things." He spoke with a frown.

".. what are you talking about Chrono?"

"Well.." he looked over his shoulder at your apartment door "Ever heard of the Shattered heart disease..?"

"... you're joking with me, right?"

You clenched the side of your waist with a grunt as your other shattered arm support yourself on one of the walls of the apartment.

"No... please..." you whimpered as you gasped at part of your leg shattering as you felt on the ground, more cracks forming in your whole body as you stared in horror at your hand.

"Dammit..." you hissed before hearing a knock on your door.

"Open (Y/n)." You furrowed your eyebrows and gritted your teeth... the guy wouldn't leave you alone even on the freacking hour of your death..?

"Leave..." you sobbed, tears started to shed and unit with the many cracks on the floor where you were standing as you heard Chisaki overhauling the door.

It hurted tu see him... you still had feelings for the man whose caused you this... you didn't know whether or not if you wanted him to see you or not.

"I swear even when-" he stopped midsentence as soon as he saw the scene in front of him.

You could only lift your gaze up with a pained yet broken hollow look as he almost stuttered your name.

"Get out.." your lips cracked, and at this rate you knew you couldn't even move anymore or else it's you meeting death right away.

For the first time on his life his body seemed to move on his own as he kneeled with one knee on the ground beside you as he stared with wide eyes and shaky hands at the pieces of you on the ground.

"For crying out loud.." he muttered in horror as he brushed a hand on his hair before discarding hsi remaining glove in hopes he could put you back.

For the first time he saw you trying to slap his hand away, and your hand broke out of your wrist, shattering in pieces on the ground.

"(Y/n)!" He shouted in a mix of anger and desperation as he saw your face, one that would torment him at nights for the rest of his life surely.

"Don't.. touc..." you breathed out your last word as he widened his amber eyes in horror at seing you cracking even more "me..."

After this last word you saw black and the last thing you heard was Chisaki shouting.

Your body broke. Shattered in pieces right in front of him.

You breathed in harshly. Your lungs burned at the sensation of feeling air again inside them as you coughed...

Blinking, your vision focused a bit to see you were on your bedroom, everything seemed on order and even a tad bit cleaner than it was usually.

Groaning, you standing on your elbows and saw the bandages on your arms as you untangled them to see your skin back to normal... not even a single crack.

"What..?" You breathed out, standing in sitting with a groan as you looked at your surroundings.

You had the strenght again to move your legs and gasped at seing that the leg you saw shattering was still intact, not even a single scar or little crack on it. Standing up you like a newborn, you took a hesitant step only to smile in astonishment that you havent heard the sound of skin or bones cracking.

Walking towards the bathroom, you giggled in surprise and utter relief at sieng your face back to normal before you flinched at hearing something breaking.

"FUCK!" a thundering voice echoed in your apartment that made you flinch. Aa voice you knew it way too well to just forget it. You poked a bit if your head out of the bathroom and tip toes carefully towards the living room to see Chisaki, jacket discarded as well as his mask, back arched on the kitchen counter as he talked with someone on the phone with a gloved hand clenching one side if his head.

"I put all the pieces together already and it has been almost a month." He growled as you stepped inside the living room...

Different from your bedroom, this one was a disaster, papers tossed aside at everywhere, your own phone shattered in pieces near a wall and the couch was with a pillow and a blanket...

Was he..?

"Yes her skin healed but she doesn't appear to be breathing..." you looked at the man, his forearms were filled with hives and you could see by the reflection from the kitchen counter the huge eyebags that were underneath his eyes...

He looked so broken and... terrible.

".. just wait and see huh?" His voice spoke in venom as the hand gripping on his head lunched the counter "WHERE DID YOU ENROLL YOUR PIECE OF GARBAGE ?! NEXT TIME I WILL FUCKING CALL A LAB RAT IF I WANT A DECENT HELP!" and with that he overhauled the cellphone before literally breaking part of your kicthen counter.

"Dammit..." he whispered, a hand on the counter as he fixed back while the other was covering his face...

"Uh..." you mumbled ".. Chisaki?" He flinched at the name and slowly took his hand out of his face.

Ever so slowly his face turned to see you, his eyes tired and red from sleep deprivation but still just as wide as if he had seen a ghost.

".. (Y/n).." he whispered your name before straighting up his back, god, not even his shirt was folded, part of his button up shirt was unbuttoned leaving part of his chest at shown to you.

You could die happily now.

You both stared at each other for a bit, still in shock as you decided to see for real if your arms were still there and without any mark.

"Uh.. can you.. tell me what happened and what are you-" before you could finish you gasped at him suddenly moving to be mere inches away from you.

"Please tell me this is not another fucking hallucination... " he breathed out as you stood there awkwardly.

"Well, I would like to not be.. I literraly died the last time I remember and-" you stopped breathing and talking just when in one blink of an eye Chisaki kneeled on the ground and cradled your hands in his own as he breathed out shakily "C-Chisaki-"

"My god..." he exhaled as he supported his forehead on your two interviewed hands "Thank God... I thought.. I thought I lost you for real..."

You blinked, frowning while looking away from him.

"Wasn't I just a loyal pet as yourself named it?" You mumbled as he let out one of the most painfull chuckles you ever heard of.

"If you were... was I really going to pass each day picking your pieces together... live on this house because I trusted none to take care of you... ever time I woke up and in very five minutes I checked for your breathing and only lord could describe the amount of relief I had when I saw the cracks on your skin dissapearing... I didn't notice earlier how much I needed you in my life... until I fucked up..." he dropped his head again while getting up.

"... so you.. never leaved after that?"

"Didn't take one single step out of this place... I was never one to pray but god..." he brushed his gloved hand on his messy and greasy hair "I lost count on how many times I begged for whoever is up there to bring you back..."

"... why? I thought.."

"The thing is..." he breathed shakily before locking gazes with you "You only give value to the things you loved after you lose them... I learned that from the hard way..."

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #chisaki kai #bnha characters #overhaul #bnha fanfiction #bnha fanfics #zuffer writings #bnha villains x reader

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delos-mio · 3 years

Text

Out of the Woods - College!AU - PART 1

A/N: Welp, here it is! Part 1 of my silly little AU for my favorite silly little king. I really hope I can do him justice and I greatly appreciate any comments and questions you may have! No major triggers- only implied drug use, drinking, allusion to sexy stuff. So, without further ado..

If you had to gaze into a crystal ball at the beginning of the year, this would not have been the future you expected to see. You didn’t plan on being unhoused, stuck in an idle relationship, and debating dropping out of school all together. But here you were, trying your very best to pick up the pieces, salvage what little motivation to carry on that you had left. It could have been worse. It could have been much worse, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself to keep from crumbling entirely. You were never one to back down though, and these few hurdles sure as hell weren’t going to be the thing to break you. At least one of your problems was solved.

You had just emptied the last of the boxes left from moving and were hanging up the rest of your clothes when there was a soft knock on your door. Genya popped her head in, smiling brightly.

“Hey. I was just making sure you were getting settled ok,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m just about done unpacking I think.” You sat down next to her on the edge of your bed. “Thanks again for letting me live here. You have no idea how much you saved his ass,” you laughed.

“Don’t mention it! I’m happy to have someone else here, honestly.” She seemed to mean it, so you decided not to keep groveling. “Anyways, I just had a friend text me about a party tonight if you wanted to go?”

Your party days were almost entirely behind you. Freshman and Sophomore year were a haze of booze and recreational drugs, leading to you almost flunking out of school on more than one occasion. You’d since cleaned up your act, for the most part, and found you way back on the Dean’s list. But...it was a Friday afterall. And you’d just spent all day moving and contemplating your entire life- did that not earn a beer or two?

“Yeah, ok. Ok. That sounds good,” you said with a nod.

“Awesome! I think we’re meeting there around 10ish, so I’ll come grab you to get ready in a little bit.”

“Get ready? Are we 18 and going to our first frat party?” you joked, making Genya laugh.

“I was thinking about it more so as a roomie bonding activity, but if you wanna be a brat…” she drawled, trying to keep the smile off her face.

“Come back in an hour,” you finally sighed. Genya looked simply delighted as she exited, very clearly planning out looks for you both in her head.

As you went to finish up organizing your closet, you felt the familiar buzz of your phone in your pocket.

Matt: u coming over tonight?

You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back in your skull. That probably shouldn’t happen when you get a text from your boyfriend.

Y: can’t, sorry. Going out with Genya M: ok- have fun. Make good choices. Y: wtf does that mean M: just to make good choices? Jesus does everything have to be a fight? Y: i’m not trying to fight omg Y: i’ll just talk to you later M: k

K. He had some fucking nerve.

---

Across campus, Nikolai wasn’t having much better of an evening.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes." Aleks's tone was final; Nikolai knew there was no point in trying to bargain with him at this point.

"Jesus, fine." Nikolai’s fate had been decided and it was now mandatory that he go to the Delta Chi party that night. And here he had been looking forward to a quiet evening alone with his guitar and journal...

"It'll be fun, you sad sack. And I really want you to meet Alina," Aleks chastised.

"I didn’t know you missed my irreplaceable company quite this much."

Aleks gently threw a pencil across the table at his head. "Maybe you'll even catch a new fish of your own, huh?" he said with an obnoxious smirk. Nikolai just chuckled, nodding noncommittally before heading off to his bedroom.

It's not that he didn’t want to go. Well, he didn’t, really. But normally, he would. It’d been about a month since he called it off with the girl he met in Statistics. And it's not like he even missed her all that much- he knew she wouldn’t be around long from the start. But he was still stuck in the “mope in his room, write songs about heartbreak” phase of his healing. Because of such, he hadn't felt like partying much lately, but he’d blown off Aleks the last 3 weekends...he wasn't going to let Nikolai say no again.

Nikolai figured the least he could do is try and look presentable. It was unlike him to spend as much time in sweats as he had; his sense of style had always been impeccable. He was a man who knew he was handsome and knew the best way to broadcast just that. He pulled out tight black jeans and paired them with a powder blue button down with the sleeves rolled up, maybe a couple of the top buttons left undone. He pushed his golden hair back out of his hazel eyes and scrutinized himself in the mirror. To his horror, he looked like he hadn't had a good night of sleep in a week, which was true. Overall, it could have been better, but it could be worse. With a sigh, he grabbed his phone and keys before going out to find Aleks.

They got to the Delta Chi house, and there were already a few guys passed out on the lawn. Nikolai wasn’t surprised, but it was only 10:30. They must have been freshmen. Aleks lead the way to the porch where a petite dark haired girl turned around and beamed at them.

"You're late!" she says with a clearly fake pout. Aleks leaned in to kiss it away and Nikolai looked everywhere but at them.

"Sorry, sorry, I know. Miss Princess here had to be dragged out of his cave," he laughed at his expense. "Alina, this is Nikolai. Nikolai, Alina."

"Nice to finally meet you," Alina smiled. She's cute, he can give Aleks that.

"I’ll have you know I was not in a cave. I was waxing poetic about love lost, heartbreak and what have you,” Nikolai smirked as Alina laughed.

"Genya and her new roommate are already inside," Alina said, grabbing Aleks's hand.

Thank god. Not that he didn't want to spend time with them or get to know Alina, but he didn't really want to watch them suck face and play third wheel all night. Genya had been a friend of theirs since Freshman year- she smoked them down at a random dorm party and she'd been part of the gang ever since. Nikolai pushed through the crowd and made it along with Aleks and Alina to the kitchen. There were fewer people back here and Nikolai felt like he could breathe again.

"Nik," Genya chirped and threw her hands up excitement. "He lives!"

"You saw me Wednesday," Nikolai laughed. “But, I understand. Aleks was desperate for his company too. It must have been unbearable without me.”

"I really didn't think Aleks would get you to come," she said with an easy grin. Genya handed him a cup of what he assumed was beer. "Doesn't matter. You're here now."

They all circled up and chatted for a minute. For once in his life, Nikolai felt like he was noticeably quiet, but he found he didn’t have much to add. They didn’t want to hear about how he managed to cook a meal TWICE last week. Or how he’d written probably a dozen songs, all of them dogshit. Genya was grinning at a story their friend William was telling when she looked over his shoulder and motioned for someone to join them.

"Guys! Guys! This is my new roommate," Genya said. Ah yes, the new roommate. How could Nikolai forget?

New Roommate had wedged themselves into the circle two people away from Nikolai. He looked up from his cup and immediately locked eyes with you. Honestly, the name should have tipped him off. He never, ever thought he’d see you again. There's no way you possibly remember him, right? God, you were still so beautiful.

"Nikolai?" you asked with a tight voice, eyes jumping all around his face. And it's right about then that Nikolai wished he got a little more beauty sleep. Here you were, practically glowing, while he looked like the walking dead.

"Hey," he breathed out. It sounded a lot more desperate than he meant it to, but you always have had that effect on him.

"You guys know each other?" Aleks interjected.

"It's uh, it's been a few years, but yeah," you said with a blush, looking down into your cup. Aleks and Genya both looked at Nikolai with a raised eyebrow. He could feel the sweat pricking along his brow. Fuck, now all eyes were on him...

"Maybe there's a spot open for beer pong. Let's go check it out." Thank you. Subtle, Genya. "You guys can catch up," Genya said walking past you and patting Nikolai on the shoulder. The rest of his friends followed suit and Nikolai was left alone with you, staring not so subtly.

You hadn’t grown an inch. You’d lost the bright red glasses too. But, god, you were still the most gorgeous creature Nikolai had ever laid his eyes on. Really, he couldn't have lost his virginity to a hotter person.

It's your typical boy-meets-girl story. Nikolai first saw you at the rink where he played hockey in high school. Your parents owned the building and seeing as such, you were employed as the kid behind the concession stand. Nikolai remembered the first time he saw you, he thought you looked like a dork. A very hot dork, but a dork all the same. Nikolai began to notice you watching him in particular during practice, which just further flustered his raging teen hormones.

One night, after everyone else had left practice, Nikolai stayed behind and introduced himself to you. He’d never seen such a beautiful mouth and he had to resist the urge to kiss you right then and there. It became habit that he stay after practice and lean against the counter to shamelessly flirt with you. You often had the rink to yourselves by that time, so Nikolai felt like he could really be himself during those hours. He was still figuring out his place in the world and had stuck-up parents who would never approve of him taking you home. But in the lowlights of the concourse, he was allowed to have a crush on you.

Flirting led to making out behind the counter. Making out behind the counter led to hand stuff in your beat up purple van once you locked up for the night. Hand stuff led to him fucking you in the locker room shower. It was both of your first time and it could have been much less hurried. But you were young and inexperienced and horny as fuck and still exploring sexuality. You kept that arrangement up for the next few months until the season ended and Nikolai left that fall for school. He felt like a dick for not saying goodbye to you. It's not in his nature to ghost. It just isn't. He thinks maybe he was still scared of what it all "meant" and how much he really liked you. Maybe this was the universe telling him to make things right with you and make things right for himself.

"Hey, stranger," you said with a lopsided grin. Fuck. Nikolai was so done for if you kept looking at him like that.

"Hey yourself." And Nikolai couldn't help himself when he reached out to you to pull you in a tight embrace. Lucky him, you didn’t push him away and call him a fucking asshole; he thought he would have deserved that. You buried your face into his neck and the hot little puffs of air were doing way more to him than they should. You parted just enough to get a good look at each other.

"You look good," you said with a dark edge to your voice, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. He knew very well what he looked like that night, but you seemed to mean the compliment.

"You look better," he replied earnestly, because it was true. It shouldn't have been this easy to fall right back into things. But it was always different with you. Sometimes, he still thought you were the only one that really understood him without him having to say a word.

"Nikolai Lantsov, you always were a little flirt," you laughed. Your eyes crinkled at the corner and Nikolai thought to himself how beautiful you are when you’re playful. You’re always beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and have you alone. This time, he wouldn’t fuck it up. He wouldn’t let you go. You must have noticed his brain going into overdrive because you say "What's going on up there? What ya thinking?" You pushed a rogue lock of golden hair away from his face.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I'm thinking about how much I wish we weren't at a frat party right now. I'm thinking about how I want to be selfish and have you all to myself," Nikolai said low so only you could hear. You laughed a little to yourself and looked at him with sparkling eyes.

"I'm not stopping you," you drawled. Fuck. Fuck, ok. This was really happening.

"Let me tell the guys we're leaving and then do you maybe want to get some food?" Nikolai asked hopefully. You just nodded coyly with a small smirk.

"I'll meet you out front." You squeezed his hand once and started pushing your way through the sea of bodies.

Nikolai ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath before nearly running down to the basement, eager to say goodbye and make his way back to you. Genya, Aleks, Alina, and William were playing each other, a beer pong table stretching between their pairs.

"Where's your old friend?" Genya asked with a shit eating grin.

"We're um. We're actually gonna head out. So, I guess I'll—" but he was immediately cut off by Aleks.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Nik, are you leaving with a girl?" he teased.

"Yes. I am." Nikolai looked at him defiantly.

"How do you guys know each other anyways?" Bill asked before launching a shot.

"Just from growing up. High school or whatever," Nikolai mumbled.

"Cmon..." Genya begged.

"Wouldn’t you love to know," he said, voice laced with snark. "I just came down here to say we're fucking leaving!"

"Well then you better not keep your girl waiting," Genya said with a silent kiss in his direction. Nikolai just flipped her off and took his leave.

When he got outside, you were waiting with your hands in your pockets at the bottom of the porch steps. He smiled wide at you and offered a hand, which you seemed happy to take.

"So, are they gonna give me a bunch of shit next time I see them?" you asked as you walked hand in hand to the little strip of 24 hour restaurants on the outskirts of campus.

"Probably. Nothing you can't handle," Nikolai winked. You laughed then a little giggle. It's such a familiar sound and just like that, Nikolai was transported back to the ice rink and you giggling between kisses behind the snack bar.

You made it to one of his favorite delis in town and he offers to buy you a sandwich, which of course you tried to refuse his offer. Nikolai simply won't hear it. He had 5 years of douche baggery to make up for and insisted. You finally conceded and thanked him with the sweetest smile Nikolai had ever seen. You found a table in the corner, away from the door and prying eyes.

"So, how'd you meet Genya?" Nikolai asked.

"We have a writing class together. And we got to talking and became friends. I needed to find a new place cause my old roommate had to drop out and move home. I couldn't afford the place on my own. And I mean, you know how Genya is," you laughed, "I told her all about it one day in class and she offered me a room at her place without batting an eye."

"That does sound like Genya," Nikolai nodded.

"I've only been there like, two hours. But it's been good so far. Genya's been super cool," you said with a smile.

"I can't believe that we've been at the same school this whole time and it's taken this long to find each other," Nikolai said, mostly to himself, but you heard him and reached across the table to grab one of his hands.

"But we did find each other eventually, yeah?" You ran your thumb over his knuckle.

"Yeah," he said, suddenly bashful. Nikolai was seldom flustered. He had nerves of steel and had confidence to spare on his worst days. But you. You cut through him, all the way down to the core, and that made him nervous.

"So," you started, "Tell me about everything Nikolai Lantsov. Surely you've been up to something the last few years."

"Not much interesting to tell," he shrugged. "Been studying history. Writing music here and there to keep myself occupied."

"Girlfriend?"

"Who wants to know?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Shut up," you mumbled into your soda. He doesn't miss the blush that's spreading over your cheeks.

"No. No girlfriend." he paused, considering how honest to be. But fuck it, he owed you candor. "I actually broke up with a girl a little over a month ago." You looked back up at him then, your eyes searching presumably for whether or not Nikolai was still torn up about it. "She wasn’t...she wasn’t right for mw and I guess I was just done. I feel like I should still be sad about it or whatever, but I'm not. I don't miss her. The wallowing and self reflection has been great writing fodder though," he said with a laugh.

"I'm sorry, Nik. You don't deserve that."

"Don't I?" Nikolai looked at you and suddenly felt torn open. "I...I'll never forgive myself for what I did to you." You bit down on your lip and looked out the window. "I regretted leaving you, god, and like a fucking asshole. I regretted leaving you so much. I know saying I'm sorry isn't even close to enough. But god, I'm so fucking sorry." He knew there were tears threatening to fall from his eyes, but he swallowed them down best he could.

"I'm not going to act like it didn't hurt me. Because it really, really did. But I accept your apology, Nik. You know I could never stay mad at you." You paused for a minute before looking at Nikolai with a tiny fire in your eyes. "You know, I'm pretty sure I was in love with you back then."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I don’t think I ever stopped loving you," He said confidently. Your jaw dropped just for a moment before you're giving him that sexy grin that apparently still drives him absolutely crazy.

"Still?” Nikolai just smirked. "What if you don't know me anymore?" you asked and sucked at the straw in your soda.

"I'd like to." There's a shift in the air between you. Nikolai was sure you could both feel it. It was suddenly too warm in the restaurant and there's too much table separating you. He decided to take his chance. “How do you feel about going back to my place?”

You suddenly seemed very interested in your nail beds, picking anxiously at the skin. “You didn’t ask me if I was seeing anyone.”

Nikolai stalled. He didn’t. You asked about his relationship status and he was so absorbed with letting you know that he was, in fact, single, that he didn’t bother to ask if you were even available. Hadn't you been flirting all night? He'd certainly been flirting. But like you said, maybe he didn't know you anymore. Maybe this was just how you were these days. “Are you...are you seeing someone?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. Maybe it was his own wishful thinking, him hearing the resignation in your voice. Not that he wanted you to be unhappy. No, you deserved the world and he wanted nothing more than for you to have the sun and the moon and the stars. But, maybe there was still a chance for him yet. “His name is Matt. We’ve been together for like, a year or so.”

“Matt.” He let the name burn his tongue. “You love him?”

“Nik…” you warned.

“Just a question.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Just my two cents here,” Nikolai started, leaning back into the booth, “But you deserve to be with someone you can gush about. Someone who when you get asked if you love them, you don’t think twice and say ‘they’re the love of my life!’”

“And you don’t think that’s him?” you said, huffing. “You think that’s you?”

“There’s a chance,” he smirked. “All that aside, I’m very glad fate has brought us together again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed. “I missed you too.” You looked at your phone quickly. “Shit, I should get going. I have a shift at 9 tomorrow.”

“Let me walk you home,” Nikolai insisted, standing from the booth and helping you into your jacket.

“Always such a gentleman,” you smiled, tapping him gently on the nose before walking ahead of him.

The walk to your and Genya’s place felt too short. Nikolai had made this trek, both intoxicated and sober, and it always seemed much longer. But now he was at your front door, hands shoved in his pockets as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “If you don’t want to hang out again, I understand, but I need you to tell me now if you think it’s a bad idea,” he rushed out.

“Of course I want to see you again,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So dramatic. We can still be friends, right?”

“We can be best friends,” he smiled.

“I’m glad I ran into you tonight.”

“Likewise.”

You were both clearly just trying to prolong the evening at this point. Nikolai took it upon himself to put you both out of your misery and pulled you into his arms again. You gripped his torso tightly, melting your body against his. He held you close, both strong arms wrapped around your shoulder while he tucked your head under his chin. After a moment, he pulled back enough to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered, his breathing a little hard.

“Ok,” you croaked, nodding. Nikolai stepped out of your space then, squeezing your hand one last time before walking back out to the sidewalk, waiting and watching to make sure you got inside safely.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #prince nikolai #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov fanfic #shadow and bone fanfic #nikolai lantsov au #shadow and bone au #grishaverse au #ootw #masterlist

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peterrparrkerr · 3 years

Text

Royal au - read on ao3

Tagging: @lokitonypeter @just-things-things @thegreenmetblue @someonepostedart @andacheesyoneliner @bluestarker @lilcoffeecup @useless-fanfictions-for-mcu @tnpt @sarcastich

Reign au!!

*-*

Peter was nervous. He hadn't seen prince Steve in years. Not since they were both children.

He hides the shaking of his hands at his back as he walks towards the castle he once spent his summers in.

It seems smaller and more daunting all at once. Before, he hadn't known about the arranged marriage.

Now he does.

And with an attempted assassination at his back, Peter's only slightly overwhelmed at the prospect of calling this place home.

There's a welcoming party for him. Servents and maids, stable hands and kitchen staff all standing on either side of the gravel pathway that leads to the castle doors.

Peter takes a deep, shaky breath as he sees the king and queen step out. The king looks much older. Deeper wrinkles along the sides of his mouth and eyes, the skin of his cheeks not as plump as before. They sag just enough to be noticeable. And his hair is graying at the temples, thinner than Peter remembered.

"Is that what I have to look forward to, when I am king?" Peter murmured quietly, nerves getting the best of him.

"Of course not," Mj spoke at his side. "King Joseph rules with an iron fist and decite. Not to mention he has lived past two quarters of his life."

"I should hope I live that long," Peter huffed, looking from the king, to the queen. "We should have postponed until after the wedding."

The queen -Sarah- was just as Peter remembered her to be. Short, fair skinned and blond, just like Steve.

"Nonsense," Ned said, giving Peter a small nudge. "The festivities will take your mind off of all that comes with being the future king."

Peter huffs again, but begins making his way towards the royal couple. Mj and Ned are both behind him, on either shoulder.

"Where is the prince?" Ned asked quietly.

"I'm not sure," Peter said, grasping his hands more tightly. It had been so long, he wondered if Steve would even recognize him.

"Is that him?" Mj asked. Peter glances from the king and queen to the left, behind the wall of servents.

Peter blinked, a quiet exhale forced from his parted lips.

"No," Peter shook his head, eyes never leaving the man that made his way towards the welcoming party, taking his spot in the crowd.

"No, that's Tony," Peter breathed. He couldn't believe how Tony had grown.

"The king's bastard?" Ned asked, aghast. "He lives in the castle?

He was no longer the gangly kid with dark hair. No, Tony had grown into his limbs. His dark hair was styled artfully, and he even had facial hair now.

Peter almost stumbled from staring.

"Oh."

Peter pulled his attention from Tony to where Mj was looking, and his eyes widened.

Steve was walking towards them. He had grown too, in ways other than his half brother.

His shoulders were broad, hair even more blond than Peter remembered, and he had grown so tall.

Peter couldn't help the giddy smile that pulled at his lips, and he nearly broke out into a run to reach Steve.

It took everything in him not to, and the two met in the middle.

"I can't believe it," Steve spoke first, looking Peter over. "You've grown."

Peter doesn't know why that makes his cheeks burn. He shakes it off though.

"So have you, your grace," he replies. "Obviously. You didn't look like this ten years ago."

He hears Mj snicker behind him and he inwardly curses. But Steve just smiles.

"You can just call me Steve," he hums.

"I'm Peter."

A smile pulls at Steve's lips. "I remember."

*-*

It takes Peter a couple days to really settle into the new routine and scenery. Mj and Ned usually keep him company in his chambers, though they've been put to work helping out around the castle when their services aren't needed.

Peter feels a little misplaced still. He's used to running through the hallways with Steve, laughing and playing and being with each other from the time they woke up to the time they went to bed.

But Steve is the future king, and he has responsibilities. They speak during meals, and sometimes Peter catches him during the day and they talk -reminiscing about their shared summers.

But for most of the day, Peter is alone. He can't help but feel a sad sort of melancholy for the months before. It just reminds Peter that he's no longer a child.

He's the future king as well, and there's been many attempts on his life since he was young and naive.

"What are you doing out here all alone, Prince?"

Peter jumps, dropping the rocks he had been picking up from around the lake.

He turns to see Tony, the reins of a black horse in his hand as he makes his way over.

Peter blushes, noting his current state of undress. His belt, shoes and stockings are all on the grass, leaving Peter in nothing but a tunic.

His feet are covered in mud, shins wet from walking into the water.

"I, uh," Peter started, brushing his hands off on his tunic, transferring the dirt onto the fabric.

"I was just exploring," he winces. Not something a future king should be doing.

Tony smirks, and Peter's heart skips a beat. He had grown into a fine man.

"I see some things don't change," he says. Peter steps away from the lake and into the grass.

"What does that mean?" Peter asked, bending down to collect his things.

Tony gives a small shrug.

"Only that I remember you used to bring in little rocks and frogs when you were younger," he said. "You always gave the prettiest stones to Steve, and the frogs to me."

"If I remember correctly, you liked frogs," Peter countered, unsure why he felt the need to get defensive.

"I did," Tony agreed. "It is good to know you haven't changed."

"You have," Peter can't help but respond. "You've grown into your legs."

That makes Tony huff a laugh. Peter blushes deep red, cursing at himself and his mouth.

"Will I see you at the wedding?" Peter asked when Tony turned to leave.

Tony smiles and gives a small nod. "It is my half sister's wedding," he said. "Of course I'll be there."

Peter can't help but smile at that, and Tony climbs onto his horse. "I would get back to the castle soon, it'll be getting dark soon."

*-*

The wedding is wonderful, and it does exactly what Ned said it would. Peter forgets all about his troubles as he dances.

At first, he dances with Mj and Ned, but Steve sweeps him off, practically pulling Peter off his feet.

Peter can't help but smile all night. He doesn't know the sister very well, seeing as she had a similar arrangement with her own betrothed. She was visiting her future husband's home in the summer months too.

As the night draws near its close, Mj grabs Peter's hand, a wide grin on her lips as she tugs Peter from the dance floor.

Ned is close behind, the three of them running down the dark halls.

Peter doesn't know where they're going, but he can't help but be relieved at the reprieve from the festivities.

The room Mj takes them to is small and cramped. Hidden behind a curtain. Peter has half the mind to ask Mj how she found it, but before he can, Mj pulls the small painting from the wall.

What lays behind it has Peter's eyes widening. Its the groom and bride, standing in a candle lit room with four other men.

There's a bed and a bath, and its easy for Peter to deduce whats happening.

"We're not allowed to see this," Peter whispered, turning to Mj. The girl rolled her eyes and nudged him.

"Dont you want to know what to expect on your own wedding night with Steve?" She asked.

Peter's already shaky resolve crumbles, and he turns his eyes back to the room, swallowing thickly.

"They have to watch?" Ned asks, on Peter's other side. Peter doesn't take his eyes off of the two newly married as they begin to pull at their clothes, soft and gentle.

Peter feels his cock fill at the sight of the man taking the princess -soon to be queen- to bed.

"They have to watch, to consumate their marriage," Mj whispered back, her eyes also transfixed.

Peter's aching in his tunic, and he can't help the flush to his cheeks, watching as the man pushes in gently, pushing out a breathy moan from the woman.

The three of them watch until the man cums, and Peter almost cums himself at the sight.

"Go, go, go," Mj whispered, quickly hanging the painting back up.

Peter does, rushing from their hiding place and taking to the stairs. He doesn't think he can make it back to his chambers. He may burst if he doesn't find a release.

He takes a right, then a left until he's so deep in the castle that the only people who might stumble upon him are the servents, and they're all busy with the festivities.

Peter gasps desperately as he leans into the wall, lifting his tunic up and pulling at the drawstring of his pants.

He closes his eyes and bites his lips as he finally gets his hand around his throbbing cock. It feels so good, Peter's knees nearly buckle.

He's so close to cumming in his pants, so focused on getting himself there, that he doesn't realize someone's walked in on him until a hand joins his own.

Peter's eyes snap open and he removes his hand, gasping as his eyes settle on Tony.

The man is close, his breath smelling like wine, dark eyes glinting and smirk tugging at his lips.

His hand squeezes around Peter's cock and he can't help but mewl, eyes rolling up into his head and hips pressing closer.

"Tony," Peter whimpered, rolling his hips. He can't help it. He's stupid on the need to orgasm, after watching the groom and bride, thinking about himself and Steve in that same position.

Its too much for Peter to handle.

"Shh," Tony murmurs, stroking Peter as he leans forward. "I'll take care of you, Prince."

Peter kisses Tony when the man's lips land on his. Hes worried he'll crumble to the ground if the wall weren't there for him to lean on.

Tony's facial hair scratches at Peter's mouth, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.

Tony moves in closer, practically supporting Peter's weight as he snakes his free arm around Peter's waist.

Peter tries to warn him, but all he manages to get out is a desperate keening noise that Tony eats up.

Peter cums hard into his pants and Tony's hand, which slicks up his movements further, drawing more pleasure.

"There you go, Prince," Tony praised against his mouth before moving to his jaw, still stroking Peter through his orgasm. "Thats it."

Peter doesn't know what came over him. He leans back against the wall, trying to catch his breath. Trying to collect his thoughts.

Tony removes his hand, now covered in cum, and smirks down at Peter.

Peter can't help but whimper at him, unsure of what exactly he should be feeling.

Tony grabs Peter gently by the chin, tilting his head up ever so slightly to plant the softest of kisses to Peter's kiss bruised lips.

"Good night, Prince."

#marvel #tony stark #peter parker #starker #ao3 #my writing #SFSummerBingo21 #steve rogers #spidershield

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pixie-cocaine · 4 years

Text

Down A Peg

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Businessman!Brat!Jinyoung × Dominatrix! Reader

Warnings: Pegging, slight mistress kink, dirty talk, Jinyoung cries lol, pretty harsh punishment (rough caning. don't worry tho, the after care makes up for it. Probably.), mentions of breaking skin from caning wounds and bruising 😬, slapping, hair-pulling, strapjob, fingering (m receiving), nipple play, degradation, just pure filth man 💀

Requested: months ago, but yes

Note: Jinyoung has a key at some point and it disappears, but you're not gonna say shit about it. Also it gets lazy near the end, excuse the grammar mistakes.

Word Count: 6.3K (pls don't let this flop, I am exhausted 🤩)

The last thing Jinyoung thought he’d be doing, was going to a professional Dominatrix session. If anyone had even dare mentioned the idea, say a month beforehand, he’d give them the nastiest grimace manageable and avoid them like the plague, not that he didn’t do that to anyone who tried to weasle their way into his private life anyways. It made even his own subconcious howl with laughter at the position Jinyoung had put himself in now.

So much for trying to s tay away, huh?

He didn’t even think something like this could happen. Hell, one minute he was filing more stacks of papers as his assistant talked his ear off, which he had vehemently told her not to do, and the next he found himself bored, and scrolling through a Domme website the night that followed.

But here he was; standing outside the neat black building with his phone in one hand, and a hand cupped in his pockets as he raised an eyebrow before going in. Past the glass doors, he found his surroundings consiting with soft shades of brown. A mahogony reception desk sat to the front of him against a wall, a long hallway next to the desk, and neutral white lights giving the atmosphere a professional look. His legs moved on their own accord while he focused on stabalizing his breathing, not used to the clamminess now making his palms sweat against his sides, and before he knew it, he was standing at the front of the office.

A woman in her early-to-mid twenties sat before him, smile sweet and chestnut brown hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her eyes were soft, almost inquisitive as they assessed Jinyoung’s appearance and outfit, which consisted of a beige turtleneck and black dress pants. She seemed pleased with the effort he put into his looks if her satisfied hum was anything to go by.

“Hello, are you here for an appointment?”

Her voice was cheery, like the chime of a bell, and her face beamed with a radiance that Jinyoung wouldn’t think someone who worked in her place of job would exude. He cleared his throat, “I am, yes.”

“Your name?”

“Park Jinyoung,” she nodded and typed something into the computer to her left.

“And your mistress for the night is Madame Black, correct?”

Jinyoung felt odd with how casual this was going. He’d expected.. something else? No, that was a lie一Jinyoung didn’t know what he expected. Maybe a bad experience, he guesses. He just wasn’t used to the way this was such an open transaction, as if he was going to the doctor’s for a checkup or something. It left him confused as he thought of a couple of his previous encounters with people he trusted on his sex life. The way they scrunched their faces in a disapproving frown when he said he wanted to try subbing, only to backpedal at his embarrasment. The rest just flat out didn't know what they were doing. It was almost laughable how little they knew. But this... This seemed like a whole new ballgame.

“Yeah,” He shook his head in confirmation, the sudden movement making him look like an overenthusiastic dog. The woman laughed at the new show of excitement and leant over the console so she could murmur to him despite the space being completely empty, save for both of them, of course.

“Third door down the hall, you’ll know it’s hers when just standing outside of it makes you wanna piss your pants. Don’t forget to change into one of the robes in the room just to your left. Oh! And just a heads up, Jinyoung,” She smiles with a mischevious glint in her eye and reaches out to drop a black key into his awaiting hand, “She may seem nice, but Madame is not one who tolerates brats. Do go in with the knowledge that she’s not afraid to bite.”

Jinyoung raises a brow at her tease, but smiles back at her nonetheless, "Who says I'm afraid of being bitten?"

With a jerk of his head in what he hoped was a nod, he fought not to not scurry down the hall in his newfound anticipation, smirking to himself at the knowing face of the desk worker.

Jinyoung was jittery with each step that brung him closer to his destination, which now stand a couple feet from him, the deep ebony-shaded door looming with a question that made Jinyoung have second thoughts despite thinking it through for hours; ‘Can I handle what’s behind this door?’

Jinyoung rakes a shaky hand through his hair, trying to take deep breaths as he pushes the cold metal of the key into the lock, twisting it to the right until he hears the telltale Click! Of the latches unslotting while he turns the handle and pushes the inlet open, taking a moment to survey the room before him, then kicks the door closed after he steps inside. Of course he can. If the voice in the back of his head said anything, it probably wouldn’t even be a good experience much different to the other ‘dom’s’ he’s had sex with.

Almost immediately, the tart scent of lavender wafts into his nose. The room was spacious, dimly lit by the soft golden glow of candles occupying the corners which cast shadows across the silky wine carpet, and the delicate shades of a peachy pink had consisted of the walls surrounding him. A king-sized bed with fluffy red covers sat against the back wall, a plush pink chair facing it, and you perch right at the bottom of the bed. Jinyoung feels his heart shake at the sight of you.

Just the way you sit with your legs crossed over one another had his cock stirring behind the silk black robe that curtains his naked frame. You wear a gorgeous tan lingerie set, the top is a thin see-through camisole which stops just above the curve of your upper stomach, displaying the supple mounds of your breasts over a sheen of lace, and the bottoms are a simple high-arch panty, the same fabric and look of the top, but with a skirt-like covering which flutters around the curves of your hips whenever you move. The fact that the set shown your bare body in such a delicate show of wispy materials was what made Jinyoung even more worked up. Your position was relaxed as you sat, holding a glass of champagne, and you cocked your head to the side slightly upon Jinyoung’s arrival. You offer a smile.

“Why hello there!” You gleam, and at the sheer enthusiam which you eminate, Jinyoung finds himself mirroring the smile without his own accord. Something about you just dusts away all of Jinyoung’s previous nerves.

“Hey,” Jinyoung sifts through his head to find the right words, “Madame Black?”

You giggle at the way he says it, obviously giving away that he wasn’t fully aware of what he was about to get himself into, “Yes, that’s me. You must be Park Jinyoung, I’m assuming?”

A nod was your answer.

"Don't be shy, take a seat," you nod towards the chair before you, and Jinyoung obliges, smiling at you as he goes to sit himself down in front of you.

"First of all, I would like to discuss boundaries, even if I’ve already gone over the form you filled out," you begin with a wink, "what’s your opinion on rimming and ass-play in general?”

Jinyoung feels his eyes bug out slightly at the way you so seamlessly jump into it. Shameless, aren’t you? But he isn’t complaining.

He clears his throat and, suddenly unable to look you in the eye, settles his gaze on his lap as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, “I’ve dabbled in it by myself but never really experienced proper ass-play things with somebody else,” mustering up his courage to flick his eyes back to yours, he smirks, “I’d like to try it with you if possible.”

You nod, “how about being rough with you? Hair-pulling, slapping, throat-fucking, etcetera?”

He seems to strongly approve if the fast dipping of his head means anything, and if that weren’t enough to give you a gist to how much he liked the idea, he isn’t afraid to say so.

“Anything that will leave me sore, I’m completely into. I like seeing the after effects.”

“Cum-eating and degradation?”

“Very eager to try.”

“Alright, anything else you’d like to add into the mix?”

Jinyoung muses, then shakes his head, to which you hum at.

“Now, Jinyoung, I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to answer with a very well thought-out response,” you raise an eyebrow at the brunette, eyeing him down like the first meal you’d seen in days, “Are you sure you want to do this?

Jinyoung can feel his heart thrum against his ribcage, like the hard beat of a drum, when he hears your words. You were definitely experienced in this, even someone with half a brain could tell. He could feel his lips stretch into a smile, an idea coming to mind as you gently set your champagne glass on the floor a couple steps away from your feet, then sit back up to cock your head to the side.

“If I’m being honest, Madame,” He scorns the name out, mocking your authority, “I don’t think you’ll be any better than the self-proclaimed ‘dom’s’ that I’ve been with.”

"Huh."

"I mean—look at what you're wearing—how am I supposed to believe that this is a dominatrix scene and not a sub session where I can easily just knock you around?"

Wow.

You can’t quite bite back the loud, boisterous peals of laughter that bubble up frrom your chest fast enough when you finally register his words after staring at him for a couple seconds, vacantly blinking at the brunette and trying to figure out if you heard him right. You wipe a tear from your eye, still tittering, “And what makes you think that just because I'm wearing delicate and frilly lingerie doesn't mean I can't fuck your guts out, Mr. Jinyoung the powerful CEO?”

Jinyoung frowns, “How do you know that I’m a CEO?”

God, this was getting more interesting by the moment.

Shaking your head, you rake your eyes up the sultry expose of his hardened calves and legs, slowly meeting his eyes once more, and grinning as you do so, “You must think I’m dumb. You act like that smug little face of yours isn’t plastered all over the city. Regardless..,” You lean forward, "Yes or no, Jinyoung? I promise, I'm well worth the money."

Jinyoung thinks for a moment, still in shock from the mention of his job, even if he already knows his answer before he says it. This was his chance to experience what he'd always wanted. Maybe. You already knew his kinks due to the form he had to fill out, as well as the little transaction, so he had no doubt that you knew which buttons to press, but he wanted to know if you could take him beyond his limits like he's always hoped for. If you knew how to press those buttons just right, or if you were just another let-down with a more professional look and platform. This was it, and he was going to make you work him over as much as you could.

"Yes, I'm sure I want to do this."

Jinyoung feels a shudder wrack his shoulders at how smoothly your facade transitioned to one of pure intimidation and stony expressions. The smile that once graced your seemingly sweet attributes was now wiped away and replaced with a carefully adept mask of indifference.

You keep his stare whilst you bend down to retrieve a big, black wooden box from beneath the bed, setting it beside you as you stand from your spot and lift the lid from the case to pull out a leather clasping, as well as a thick and textured blue dildo which was, admittedly, one of your biggest straps. You look to Jinyoung as you began attaching the proper clippings and belts in order to fasten it around your hips.

“On your knees.”

Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, Jinyoung slowly pushes himself away from the chair and sinks down to his knees, mouth watering at the authority in your tone of voice, and blood beginning to heat underneath his skin as you secure the harness and move to close the distance between the both of you. Deft fingers trace the sharp lining of Jinyoung’s jaw, trailing a line to the dip of his chin before taking it between your thumb and forefinger with a force that worries the bone slightly.

He's pretty, you think. One of the prettiest men that have ever occupied your time as a dominatrix, with full lips and features that would deem him model-worthy. You smile. You would have fun making a mess of him.

“Safeword?”

Jinyoung is taken aback for a moment, allegedly in a daze to the golden view from below you. “Hm... 'Promotion'?" He smiles at his own small joke.

You hum, grabbing the ribbed silicone that stare back at Jinyoung, and pressing the tip to the seam of his mouth with short, prodding impels.

“Open,” you murmur.

He obeys, albeit after frowning slightly; letting his lips part to engulf the width of your strap, wasting no time in stooping his head lower so he could stop midway on your cock, his throat constricting around the foreign object now lodged in his passage. You moan down at him with a hand raking through the soft tresses of his hair in appreciation at his eagerness.

“Suck.”

And he does.

Jinyoung started out strong at first; bobbing his head as he craned his neck this way and that to really go in on you without hesitation, hollowing his cheeks and looking up at you with a determinbed look, but after a while of swallowing your cock like he had one chance to impress you, he makes a rasping sound in the back of his throat, vaguely like the creaking of bed springs, followed by a lewd slurping noise before he goes to pull away. You catch the back of his head with a hand, raising an eyebrow as you shove him back down to where he’d stopped previous.

Jinyoung gags, a beautiful, surprised chuck of sound that makes you sigh at the way he sought for purchase at your thighs, a poor attempt to steady himself when you were already pulling back to drive your cock back down his throat with a fist-full of his hair. A range of noises that originate from Jinyoung bounce off the walls of the room, mostly different variations of kecks and physical strains on his trachea, but some being choked-off whimpers and half-strangled gasps of which he could actually get in between you fucking into his face and withdrawing.

You finally slow your pace to more shallow strokes, and looking past the pretty shine of Jinyoung’s now tear-stained face, you can see the tent in the flap of his robe. You favor him with a devilish grin, one that he sadly can’t see due to staring down at where you had your cock in his mouth.

“Look at me, whore,” the stern demand comes out in a throaty growl as you use your hand, still laced within the damp tresses of his hair, to yank his head back and up at you, resulting in both a muffled yelp and the back of Jinyoung’s neck popping at the sudden movement.

The sight was immoral in every sense of the word. His swollen lips, which were wrapped around the pink cock strapped to your hips, were left hanging open with obvious smears of glistening drool, still seeping from the corners, his cheeks streaked over with it in some places and mixing the stream of drying tears falling from his wide eyes. You can hear him begin to gag around the strap, considering he is shoved down to the hilt, but you only push his head down and keep him there. Instead, staring in amusement at the way he sputters and coughs, wanting to savor how his face begins to turn a lovely shade of red. When you are certain he can’t breathe, you pull him off and let him drink in desperate gulps of much needed air, the soft peach color returning to his face when his lungs begin to relax.

Stunning, you think.

Jinyoung gasps when you force him up to his feet by his hair, practically stumbling when you turn the two of you around so you can then proceed to to shove him onto the bed, ignoring the groan of the springs due to the impact. His head is a mess from the influxion of air he experiences. Only the ache between his legs keeping Jinyoung tied to this world as he softly pants, laying on his forearms with glossy eyes locked on yours and how you follow suit; crawling onto the bed and taking place hovering right over him. Jinyoung moans lowly when you lean in to press open-mouthed kisses, hot and wet, against his jawline, your hand snaking down the expanse of his hidden body to pull at the tied robe sash, and you treat yourself with a peek down at how it falls open to reveal everything he had to offer. Smoothing your fingers along the breathtaking show of defined muscle and healthy flesh, you curse.

“Of course such a little brat would have a fantastic body...”

Jinyoung lets out a complacent laugh at your subtle annoyance. He knows he has a good body, and he knows he's attractive, which makes you all the more irritated, considering he is perfect in every way, and you have no doubt in your mind that he uses it to get what he wants.

“You sure are taking your time,” He gripes out, hoping to stir your anger.

You snicker at him, and without thinking too much of it, strike him across the face, not waiting for his head to fully turn to the left before you grab his cheeks, force him back to you, and slap him again.

Once. Twice. Three times.

You feel his cock twitch against your thigh, and his mouth parts in pleased shock as he breathes.

“Say it again, bitch"

"I said, you sure are taking your—Ah!"

He's momentarily shocked into silence when you immediately shove your hands under his waist to hoist Jinyoung's legs behind his head, essentially folding him in half and displaying his exposed bottom, which is just as gorgeous as everything else about him. That's saying something, because an asshole, dick, and balls shouldn't even be in the same sentence as 'gorgeous.'

Jinyoung doesn't have time to protest, because as soon as he opens his mouth to fuss, he feels a strong, harsh slap land right on his hole. He yelps, kicking his feet out the best he can until he cries out again upon registering the next three smacks that rain down on the same spot.

"Rude, rude, boy. Has nobody ever taught you that you shouldn't speak back to your Mistress?" You growl, blowing cool air over his fluttering rim before patting his ass gently, "Stay like this or else I'm shoving an inflatable plug up your ass and stretching you until you rip."

Shaky and wanting, Jinyoung let's out a breath, doing as you say and hooking his hands into the back of his knees in order to press down and stay in said position. It unfortunately does put a strain on his lower back, but as much as he likes punishment, he's not betting on having his poor butt mercilessly torn open like you promised.

"What's your favorite color?"

The question half-startles him, "Red...?"

"Good choice," You chirp, and like that, you're holding his legs in place again; dangling a bottle of reddish-tinted lube over him as you happily squirt the cool gel onto his hole and two of your fingers. You tease him—gently running your hand up the soft skin of his left leg whilst you push the pad of your digit against his entrance, letting it breach slightly before pulling back to do it again.

"Tell me you want it."

He groans, "I want it..."

"Yeah?" You lie your cheek on his thigh, staring down at him with narrowed eyes. You love how exposed he is right now. Vulnerable to your gaze, and letting you touch him in such lewd ways. You always liked these parts of your sessions—where you could see the raw arousal in their faces. Letting your hand slide from Jinyoung's thigh to his cock, you begin simultaneously stroking him and, finally, pushing your fingers into his ass. He suddenly jerks upwards the best he really can with his legs behind his head, and you already know that both the sensations combined feel odd for him.

"Does it hurt?" You ask, half-wanting him to say it does so you can see the look on his face when you add another finger. But he doesn't, thankfully, and you whisk away the sadistic thoughts that you don't really want there. Instead, he shakes his head with a weak noise of slight discomfort.

"It doesn't hurt, but it feels... Weird?" Jinyoung doesn't seem so sure of himself when he actually says the words out loud. The confused frown knitting his eyebrows together mimes that of someone who was deciding on whether they liked something or not.

"Mm. Give it a minute."

And he does. He breathes heavily at the still-going stimulation to his cock, furrowing his brows everytime you move your fingers in a strange way as you try and find a pace, then, like clockwork as your digits graze upwards of his walls, he gasps, loud and surprised.

"Oh? Did I find it?" You grin, raising an eyebrow whilst continuing to abuse that spot inside of him. You revel in the way he moans. It's actually very melodical, everytime he reaches a high note it sounds like he's about to start singing, and it catches you off-guard when he keens before letting his lower body fall against the bed.

You tsk and shrug, "I was gonna be nice but it looks like you're just itching for punishment."

"Well what the hell did you expect when you put me in a painful position like-"

Thwap!

You give him another good slap to the face, then, almost too aggressively, force him to the edge of the bed so you can bend him over.

"Don't look at me, keep your eyes on the floor or I'll make it worse," you murmur, and with a mischievous smile, you walk over to the large black closet to the side of your bed. You can hear Jinyoung's heavy breathing reverberating throughout the room the entire time it takes to fetch your trusty cane and take position back behind Jinyoung.

The cane is long, about the height of a relatively high-standing desk, and decorated with accents of blood red while the rest is tinted a ravishing mulberry purple. It's thick at the top which makes it easy to hold onto, and it begins to slight as it reaches the the tip, which is skinny and carefully rounded.

"So, here's what we're gonna do," you begin, running your fingers up and down the polished rattan, "I am going to hit you with this cane as hard as I can, and you are going to count each and every stroke that I put on your thighs and backside. Do you hear me?"

Jinyoung sucks in a breath, but nods his head nonetheless.

"Come on, you know better. I need you to say it."

"Yes, I hear you."

"Hear you, what?" You lean forward to whisper into the shell of his ear, enjoying the way he lets out a small whimper and pushes his ass back against you.

"Yes, I hear you, Mistress..."

"Good Boy. Now, spread your legs a bit, and when you feel the cane, begin counting."

Jinyoung does as told easily enough; widening the space between his feet until his legs stand out in a small 'v' shape, and waiting in anticipation for you to begin the punishment. He can hear the blood rush in his ears.

Shwoop- thwack!

The pain that surges in a line against both cheeks is nothing short of winding. He thought it'd sting a bit at most but fuck, he had trouble keeping his legs from wobbling.

"One!" He shrills.

Shwoop- thwack!

"Two!"

Shwoop- thwack!

"T-Three!"

It feels like it goes on for forever if he's being honest. It's the same pain, but it gets worse with each swing and cut. It doesn't help that your cane had broken skin and drawn blood every couple strokes to both the backs of his thighs and cheeks, and you kept on hitting the same wounds.

"Twenty... twenty-one.."

"My good boy.. you did so, so well," You all but coo, dropping the cane to the floor with a thud as you lean forward to drape yourself over his back, careful not to make contact with his injuries whilst you trail your fingers between his legs so you can continue stroking his cock, grip loose and barely touching him with each swipe over his shaft.

"It hurts...!" Jinyoung's voice wavers, and you can finally hear the submission in his tone. You like hearing him like this; on the edge of breaking down, sobbing out his pain and pleasure, and all for you.

You smile, tightening your fist around his tip and holding it there just to savor the way he cries out and reaches down to try and stop your administrations, "But you like when it hurts, don't you? You like seeing how bad of a boy you'd been, and you like feeling those repercussions wear off even more, no?"

"N-no..."

"Mistress doesn't like liars, baby. Say you're sorry and maybe I'll make the pain feel better," You hum, only the slightest of touches ghosting against Jinyoung's nipples, butterfly kisses on the back of his ear.

"I'm sorry.. I-I'm sorry..!"

"Move up the bed. Hands and knees, still."

He's crying as he carries out your command, you realise. Tears, shiny, like the first drops of rain, run in flexuous tracks down his cheeks, and a blush dusts the ball of his nose. He makes no noise, but you can see the stutter of his chest and the way his breath hitches everytime he tries to take in a full inhale.

"See what happens when you don't listen to your Mistress? She has to hurt you, and she doesn't quite like hurting you to the point of drawing blood," you sigh and can't help but frown at the marks left on his body, especially the way you can identify the blooming bruises, which range from pretty shades of red to slowly darkening purples. Not to mention the many long cuts that litter just above the bruises.

"I-I'm sorr-sorry," Jinyoung involuntarily hiccups, and the way he reaches back and out for your top, tugging at the hem to get you to come closer, undoubtedly makes your mask slip a bit.

"Don't-.. don't look at me like that.."

But he keeps doing it. He keeps looking at you with those eyes. Those eyes that plead and beg in only the ways that make your body light aflame with desire to see him break completely under your touch.

"Fuck me... Please fuck me," He whispers, still looking at you from over his shoulder and holding onto your camisole.

"I bet you do. You've had that look in your eyes ever since you walked through the door. Don't worry, though. I'll fuck you. I'll fuck you hard enough to make your mind go blank, and I'll fuck you good enough that everytime you touch yourself, you'll wish it was my hands instead of yours," you crawl onto the mattress and keep direct eye contact as you do so. You want him to take in the fire in your eyes, and know that you mean everything you say.

And from the way he whines upon your hand encasing his throat when you take place behind him, lining yourself up with his entrance with your breath hot on the back of his neck, he gets the memo.

"Have you ever had a cock inside you, Jinyoung?"

"Only finger-ers," He gasps out, still catching his breath to make coherent sentences as his crying dies down.

You nod into his shoulder, "We're gonna take this part slow, then, okay? Deep breaths.. I'm pushing inside, now."

The stretch is slow and, admittedly, overwhelming; the way your strap's textured shaft tenses his walls around the thickness of it's outer layers has him clutching and the sheets and making all sorts of noises, from groans to whimpers, from low-tones to high-notes, then finally, you bottom out. Your hips meet the plush skin of his ass, which he yelps at, and you take a moment to massage the column of his neck, trying to get him to relax as much as possible. It is his first time with a dick up his ass, after all, and he'd just taken a brutal punishment with, from the looks of it, painful consequences.

"What's the traffic light say, Jinyoung?"

He knows what it means, and when he's actually asked the question, it sparks a sort of satisfaction in him. He means wow, someone who actually checks in with him during sex and doesn't just do whatever they want without making sure he's ok with it.

"Green. Just go slow, please? It still hurts a bit."

He's surprised when you actually listen to him, and begin pacing yourself slower; careful movements of your hips, barely even registered as thrusts, and soft brushes over the hardness of his nipples once again as a distraction from any lingering uncomfort.

"Is it ok to go faster?"

He nods, and turns his face to the side so he can look at you properly. He looks so good like this; watery eyes and a needy expression painted on his face like glass.

It's then that you find yourself kissing him.

It catches him off-guard, obviously, but he leans into it nonetheless, and damn did you know how to kiss. Your lips were sweet against his, mouth moving in tune with his own and it was quite easy for you to take control of things. One squeeze to his throat and he was putty.

You don't even notice that you're thrusting into him too fast until he grabs at your hip from behind and whines into your mouth, which makes you want to go all the more faster, but you don't. You groan, nibbling his lip before you pull away with a grin, and weave your hand into his hair so you can gently push his face into the covers. His arch is gorgeous. Just like the rest of him, you think.

"Jesus, you're a sight.. you know that?"

From the neat curtain of bangs, you can faintly see Jinyoung smile, "Do you like it?"

"Baby you know I like it," You curse as you smooth a hand down the sultry slope of his back, all muscled and strong yet delicate in a way that you find hard to explain.

He moans, loud and clear for you, "Then show me, mistress. Please?"

'Showing him' would be an understatement of what you did. It was like you were possessed; one moment he was on his hands and knees, looking back at you with that fucking face, and the next, you had him flipped over on his back, drilling into him like your life depends on it. You don't know how long you fuck him, but you know that you were in a daze as you snap back to the present.

It's brutal, the way you pound into him. Rough, animalistic, and downright cruel. He's trying his best to stay tethered to this world, but you make it extremely hard with the way you bull his knees into his own chest and stare at him, long and heavy, with each other's foreheads touching and a hand jerking him off at a rapid speed. He wails and cries out every couple seconds, his voice now strained in his throat and wearing thin like the threads of an old spiderweb.

"Is this what you fucking wanted? Huh? Well here it is so fucking take it, bitch. Take it all and don't you dare waste it or else I swear you'll regret it," You growl, your teeth clenched hard enough to put pressure on your gums as you unhook your arm from under his left knee and instead use it to choke him. He struggles at the lack of blood going to his brain, but nods regardless.

"I-I'm c—oh my god please—I'm cumming! I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-"

"Then fucking cum, you filthy whore. Do it, all over your stomach. Make Mistress proud, hm? Make her proud of her good little fuck doll, I know you can do it, baby."

Letting go of Jinyoung's throat has more of an effect than you anticipated. The influx of air and blood, paired with his approaching orgasm, quite literally throws him headfirst into his climax. His mouth falls open in a silent scream as he writhes and twitches, spilling white on his lower abdomen, and one shot even glances him on the collarbones.

It's silent for a moment as he catches his breath, still shaking, and that's when you make the decision of discarding your strap-on into the basket near your closet with a single toss. Jinyoung, on the other hand, is on cloud 9. He feels like he's floating in a golden sea of bliss, which clouds of cotton candy hanging overhead, and he barely registers it when he feels your fingers on his body once again.

He looks down, "Hm..?"

"Pfft holy shit, look at you," You bring your palm to your mouth as you giggle at the man's euphoria, "Yeah.. Oh yeah, you're definitely feeling it, huh? Told you I was worth the money."

"No shit. That was... Jesus, that was insane."

"Mm thanks, pretty. Sit still, I'll be right back."

You hop up off the bed with another quick glance at Jinyoung before you disappear behind a misty glass door. While you're doing.. whatever you're doing, Jinyoung takes the time to sit up and try and find a comfortable position because of course it's now that everything finally settles in.

"Ow, fuck!" He hisses at the pain of trying to sit on his ass with all the cuts on it.

"Yeah, about that, put your butt up for a moment?"

He frowns, but upon seeing the tube of ointment in your hand as well as baby wipes and a lollipop, sighs and reluctantly bends over.

"I know, I know, but don't worry, it'll only sting a bit. Also, make sure to apply some Neosporin or disinfectant on the backs of your thighs and bottom until they begin to scab up." You drone on about how to take care of the injuries whilst applying the salve, the basics on how to not exercise while they're still open because the sweat can cause an infection, the usual things. When you're done both rubbing the medicine on him and giving him a jog through cautions, you finally twist the covering on the tube of ointment and reach for the wet wipes before meeting Jinyoung's eyes again.

"Roll on your back, please. Feet up in the air and spread your legs so I can see everything."

"Why?"

"Because," you smile, already nudging him to move into position, "You're all messy. I need to clean you up, don't I? Now come here, I even have a lollipop for you since you did so well."

It's soft how you take care of him, Jinyoung thinks. The mood switch is completely different from what you were like when you were fucking him like you hated him, because now, you're so concerned about whether you're pressing the wipes too hard onto his skin as you swipe the cold sheet between his legs and rear end.

"I'm sorry," you say, slowing down on cleaning him to snort at how hard he sucks on the light green candy, admiring how at peace he looks with the warm expression he wears.

"For what?"

"I probably went a little too hard on you. This was your first actual time with an experienced domme, and I'm afraid that I could've ruined it for future references."

"Oh no, don't feel bad. I liked it."

"You did?" Your eyebrows shoot up.

"Of course. This is probably the best I've felt in literal months."

And he smiles. He smiles genuinely one of the most breathtaking smiles you've ever seen, with a slight fan of creasing around his eyes from the rise of his cheeks, and a laugh like pure beauty. You return it.

"Well, I'm glad I could help, Jinyoung. Now, I think it's about time for you to go, considering the session is officially over, and you most likely have a lot of work in the morning," You wink and stand from your spot on the bed.

Jinyoung allows you to help him back inside his robe, even rub the dried tear tracks off his cheeks, and before he knows it, he's slowly walking away from your assigned room, looking back at you as you stand in the doorway with a hand on your hip.

"Goodbye, Madame Black."

"Goodbye, Mr. CEO. Come again sometime, I'm sure you'd love to be taken down another peg."

#HOLY FUCK THIS TOOK FOREVER #a lot longer than I expected #well all that matters is that its here now #hope you enjoy lmao #kpop smut #hard got7 hours #smut #jinyoung smut #got7 smut #sub!got7 #sub got7 #sub!jinyoung #domme reader #domme!reader #dom!reader #dom reader #sub!idol #sub idol #idol x reader

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paper-cloud · 3 years

Text

i. the crushing weight of what happens next

part of "(there will be a) tomorrow"

fandom: prospect (2018) characters: ezra, cee rating: T words count: ~3K context: post-canon general warnings/tags: see series masterlist warnings/tags for this chapter: ezra's pov. angst. not graphic descriptions of wounds, blood and amputated limbs. mentions of minor characters' death. (probably very) inaccurate but anyways vague descriptions of medical treatments and post-anesthesia symptoms. taglist: @ravensmutty @buttercup--bee @thegreenkid (again, thank you all for your interest and encouragement! :3) @krissology @ezrasarm @bonktime (please forgive my nerve, i won't tag you in the next chapters unless you'll explicitly ask me to! just thought about someone else who might be interested and you guys are AMAZINGLY talented and inspiring "prospect"/ezra writers. it's not my intention to waste precious moments of your time! 🤡

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He'd have thought it was almost ironic – opening his eyes to the light only to see nothing. To feel pain.

He'd have laughed about it, most likely. A bit later, he'd have acknowledged it was a reasonably fair compromise; for him and any other wretch that'd ever dared play dice with darkness and miraculously made it out alive.

And in the very end he'd come to laugh at himself, too.

He knows the drill. Someone who trades their own life with the contract of the highest bidder doesn't see the universe in black and white, let alone is in a position to draw the hypothetical line between the two of them.

Must be an even more wicked universe than he's ever cared about, then.

At least, that's where the struggle of opening his eyes made him stumble upon; when a blade of light thrust through that hint of a gap he'd pushed himself to create in the middle, resonating through the dark coils of unconsciousness like a harsh, unforgiving bell.

A skilled mariner over silky rivers of natural redundancy and rapids of professional edges, Ezra is a man who can appreciate a sharp wit when he recognizes one.

That was too much even for him.

Floundering in between a blinding whiteness and a black hole that wasn't even completely black, but permeated by a thick, suffocating haze that filled every ghost haunting his mind with its stench. With the color of diabolically lush leaves.

Forest— spores— poison— death.

It hadn't been enough to let him dangle in apnea above a roaring vortex of lifeless emerald; take him away from the grey flow whose elusiveness he'd come to appreciate more than he'd ever hated to endure its chaos— from the bubble built on the routine series of one last jobs that, in the end, never really were.

There'd been a moment when, from the higher parts of the room, his pupils tumbled down, tripping over a patch of green discreetly lurking in a corner.

He almost threw up.

It had taken him a while to clear out the misty grit clotted in his corneas— focus on white walls, light wood paneling... a harmless seedling in a pot.

He'd breathed heavily, deeply. He sure hadn't got much relief from it. Still, he'd been able to hear its sound, louder than he'd ever heard it before, the musical, cooling mesh of oxygen particles in and out of his lungs almost begging his fingers to be touched.

Oxygen.

Fresh air.

Had he been less sore – less convinced it was just the residual effects of anesthesia pulling pranks on him –, he would have burst out laughing. Even more so if some poor soul of the medical staff nearby would have called for reinforcements from the other side of the space station before storming into his room.

He'd be laughing now, too. The best he can manage is sitting on his bed, leaning his back on the headboard – which is what he's struggling to do right now— and well, sometimes the room lighting still slightly bothers him. Of course, with all the painkillers and antibiotics they've given him, he wouldn't feel like the wound on his stomach is swallowing the entire arsenal of stitches and bandages.

He just wouldn't like her to get the wrong idea.

He blinks several times, like a man who no longer trusts his eyes. How can he, when they're burning like that, in such a different fire from the one from days before – damp and flickering? For reasons he can imagine, she seems to be faltering. Totally beyond his comprehension, he could swear she's smiling at him. Something inside his ribcage creaks oddly, while the curve of his chest arches upward.

"Birdie."

It's just a huff of breath, weak and hoarse, yet scratches his throat all the same, in a way that its walls feel studded with rock spurs. Actually, Ezra doesn't remember talking since they left the Green behind – which, being him, is saying something – and it's like an eternity has passed since their pod docked up there.

The nurse who let her into his room has just left and Cee sinks her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. She's still smiling— just the faded shadow of a smile, now that he takes a better look at her.

"How's your wound?"

It sounds a lot less plain than he expected.

She hasn't moved towards him any further, and for now she's not showing any hints at wanting to. In her irises, Ezra recognizes thumping stars and cerulean clouds, all clustered in the black circle cut by the large porthole next to his bed. All before catching the thin mist veiling them. As if she did want to reach those stars, let herself get carried away by those streams of bluish dust, but she had no idea how or what to do there.

He looks down, the borders of the bandages over his abdomen slightly raised under his black short-sleeved tee. He clears his throat.

"S'healin' nicely", he says, with a deliberate lightheartedness that costs him a sharp, bizarre inflection in his voice. He closes his eyes soon after, tilting his head condescendingly. "That's how the nurse feels about it, anyway... S'not like I can feel much more right now."

This reminds him of those vacuous moments between brief, chaotic waking states and delirious dreams. When he'd managed to reconnect some essential key points scattered around in the talks of surgeons and nurses; the weariness he felt from simply gathering he was on a space station due to enter the orbit of Mesos in three cycles and something standard hours. All while his only solid reference point – the only indisputable proof he was still alive – was the sequence of beeps chirped by the medical monitor perched nearby. Constant, not monotonous. Friendly, even. Sometimes, he actually comes to miss it.

"A trust fall to the extreme, I'd guess", he snorts, a sly laugh as weak and heavy as the words trudging out of his mouth. As the whole rest of him.

Whatever answer she's considering, Cee freezes it in a quick purse of her lips – maybe a nod, but for his own good he'd rather be doubtful. Then she starts looking around.

There's a chair under the board firmly anchored to the opposite wall – probably a desk or something he's never needed to test, whatsoever. She grabs it and puts it next to his bed. She sits down, bringing her legs to her chest, squeezing them in her arms.

Waiting for what, Ezra has no idea, and he's afraid she doesn't have any, either.

He doesn't speak, though, nor does he encourage her to do the same. Her pearly gaze roams steadily but unhurriedly from him to somewhere beyond him, her nose buried in the gap between her knees. He studies her carefully, two purple crescents above her cheeks, a few hair strands swinging down her face without her wiping them out. The nights she's slept through haven't been any more peaceful than his.

Trust, he recalls in the meantime.

It sure brings an odd taste to his mouth. Something close to sweaty spacesuits, grimy paths and gone-off ration bars. A single word for two human beings forced to share the same air filter for days; that, and the image of a dead body left to rot miles behind and the desperate commitment not to end up in the same way.

His gaze just happens to trip over his right side, taking in the deflated sleeve over the emptiness that saved his life. When he lifts it back to the girl, meeting her eyes just before they can flutter away, he realizes they were both looking at the same spot. And he realizes something else— something he's already understood, yet not quite.

There is no tube binding them now.

"Why d'you do it?", he mumbles a split second later, almost like somehow the thread of his question has immediately knotted to the one of his previous thought.

He huffs. He shouldn't even have asked her, in all honesty. Seeing her like this, at least he should have put it in another way, danced around it, it's not like he’s never been good at stalling, after all—

"Comin' back", Ezra says instead, and when he swallows, he mainly does it to send his heart back down his throat. If he'd died without being given the last chance to be this straightforward on this matter, he would have probably kicked his ass all the way to the other side.

This time, Cee doesn't avoid his gaze. He shouldn't be surprised by how collected she looks, given the calmness she handled his infected arm with and then told him about when she used to slip into Jata Bhalu carcasses. But he can't help it when he thinks she can't be much older now than what she was then.

He watches her breathing in, wobbling her pupils here and there, seemingly considering his words. She's not afraid, not any more than what she seemed to be when she walked into his room. Maybe she's just better than him at playing pretend – but this, he can't tell whether it's more of a good than a bad thing. Especially for her.

One thing he can tell is that she's not the same girl who pointed a trembling gun at him before running away into the woods. He knows she's not afraid.

He knows...

So is it the hunter's instinct he has to blame if he feels she is?

"Guess I've seen too much death on that forsaken moon to just... turn my back on one I can help– one I can do something about."

If he was standing in front of an entire mountain crumbling down into the ocean, he wouldn't hear its sound. ‘Wouldn't even be the worst he deserves. She did hesitate before adding the last few words, but Ezra refuses to believe she did that because she was afraid of hurting him. He may be a wretch, but not a fool.

Kevva, for a man who's always managed to untwist himself from far tougher situations with the tangles of his tongue alone, he's sure having a deal of trouble – and he wishes he could put all the blame on his current physical condition.

There is no word he doesn't have to weigh carefully now, to prevent it from taking too sharp edges once out of his lips. He may float around it forever. But once he's let her go without saying anything, he'll hardly find the courage to look within himself again, more than after any other job that hardened his hands with calluses and tarnished his eyes with blood.

He doesn't know for sure. In fact, everything he was sure to know – about the turning direction of the universe and the one of the wheels in his head – has already collapsed in front of him, tracing a flaming tail. An unforgiving meteor following a trajectory far beyond his grasp.

He just knows silence scares him, in a way that a wrong word will never do again. It terrifies him. More than as a talkative person, as a castaway on a hostile moon for too many cycles to keep their count – with the only company of a mute. Silence is green; the green of the most poisonous pollen, lethal in his brain just like toxic spores enveloped in his lungs. The green of snake scales ready to stand and scratch his flesh until liquid crimson pours out of it.

And at the end of the day, this is the only fucking thing he can tell himself to know without having his guts churning and chest heaving a beat later.

"Stop looking at me like that."

It's more of an exhausted prayer than an annoyed remark. Ezra blinks, stunned by the sudden return from the shapeless stream of his thoughts.

"Like what?"

"Like you're looking for the words to thank me", Cee settles back into her chair and this time she lets one leg touch the floor, "Tell me you owe me, and you– you're sorry about what you did."

Ezra sniffles. "Would it be bad?"

"No, it—". She closes her eyes for a moment, clenching her jaw. "Just no good", she breathes out, calmer.

And the discordant note in those words conjures up ghosts not yet vague enough for Ezra to be able to tolerate them without something twinging inside him— like a violent flutter of wings. Voices groping their way up ravels of compromises. Damon, deep in the forest. Himself, with the mercenaries in the Queen's Lair. Cee, days before that. After he—

She's right— those words she hasn't said yet, but whose shadow he feels looming every time he catches her wetting her lips.

Some things just can't be split evenly.

"This is not the Green", she states, suddenly more confident but no less exhausted. "If you're going to hang around just because you need to, once we reach Mesos¹ you'd better be on your way."

Ezra doesn't interrupt her. A faded echo starts making its way into his ears. A former prospecting partner, many years ago. An easy job on a forgettable Fringe moon.

Gems don't have an expiration date. Deals do. Strike 'em if you need to, get rid of them as soon as you can. Unless you care to dig a quicker way to your grave.

He didn't pay attention to it, then. He'd thought it was just the empty rhetoric prospectors drop absentmindedly to fill the time between an unrewarding digging and the next. All the more so under the rickety advice of a couple too many.

His eyes still wide open, hands shaky, he merely reciprocated the awkward bottle lift of his partner, whom he didn't know more than the meanders of that quarry. A toast to a faceless future – a nothingness still more reassuring than what was all around and behind them. Not to the darkness of the cave, basically unbreakable if only for the red halo thrown by the twinkles of sharp, sinister Prystines². Not even to the two poor bastards that had set out with them, ending up skewered a few hundred paces behind – one by mistake, the other to return the favor of saving him from the clutches of a furious Aiu³.

Like an idiot.

Several contracts later preventing him from missing a beat in front of similar hiccups, the logic of that statement no longer sounds so absurd to Ezra. Luckily for him, Cee understood it long before him.

"I was just lookin' for the words to tell ya you'll be better off without me—"

Half a truth. Half a heartbeat. After all, she isn't the only one of them who knows how to sell it.

He leans his head back against the headboard, eyes half-closed, a sly grin baring a couple of his upper teeth. It would almost be intimidating, except that the glint hitting them doesn't quite match the dying one in his eyes.

"—But you beat me to it", he finishes, and he sounds like he's about to fall asleep.

He slowly turns his head away, looks through the porthole. His gaze clutches to the passing asteroids outside, distant nebulae spraying the sidereal black with hues of purple, blue, red— then green, again. A climbing plant squeezing him from the inside, discomfort starts creeping on him an inch of his body – what's left of it – at a time.

He doesn't want her to think he's angry at her, and it's the only concrete foothold emerging from the fluid, magmatic chaos in his mind.

How could he be, when she came back to get him?

She didn't have to.

She doesn't have to be here, either...

"I'm sorry", she suddenly blurts out.

He meets her eyes again, a mix of bewilderment and disapproval shading his own. He shakes his head.

"Don't."

"I just—". She starts fiddling with the extra fabric created by the folds of her sweatpants. Then she sighs deeply. "I have no idea what I'm gonna do now."

He snorts. "Not that it's s'pposed to make you feel any better, but... neither do I."

He doesn't have a hazy helmet choking the glimmer in his eyes, an air filter breaking some frequencies in his voice— maybe just those making him sound sincere, while saving those trapping him into the swamp of self-loathing.

He was nothing but honest when he told her the rules of the game on the Green. When he openly admitted he was a killer, and when he assured her he wouldn't trade her for the Sater's Aurelac. And she's always seemed to believe him, maybe for that kind of desperate inertia that washes over people when they need something to cling to. Whatever the case, Ezra can only hope she wants to believe him now. But she doesn't speak, and for a moment his fear of not saying enough overcomes that of crossing her boundaries.

"But w—", he immediately bites his tongue, "—you still have three cycles to figure things out. Someone up here will be able to help you. Even so, please know you'll always have my most sincere gratitude."

The effort of lining up all those words and so few pauses to catch his breath casts a thick fog over his ears. His eyes suddenly hurt again and he finds himself squinting.

What happens next, he just records it, hardly managing to follow each cause-effect relationship. A series of events softly raining on him without making a noise, while he can quite imagine them to be way more prolonged in time. Cee leaning towards the lighting panel on the wall, sliding her finger counterclockwise, and the white coating the walls turning less painfully bright; her getting up, walking away, dwelling just before the door. "I'll come to check on you tomorrow", she says, sniffling.

She tilts her head, holding his gaze in her watery one for an agonizingly slow while – Please, don't ask me why.

He blinks once – Of course.

Then, the automatic door is once again engulfed by the wall, closing behind her with a metallic rustle.

Tomorrow.

His heart is taken by a spiraling jolt that leaves an empty cave behind. When it falls back into place, Ezra finds something has tripped in there, shapeless and quivering like the nucleus of a newborn star.

Hope, terror and everything that lies in between.

___________________

NOTES:

1) Mesos — Invented planet. Its only raison d'être is that "mésos" in Greek means "middle" and my intent was to frame this story in a moment of transition (after those of movies) for both Ezra and Cee. 2) Prystines — Invented kind of crystals. They're implied to be huge, red and very sharp, thus endangering the path through the cave. 3) Aiu — Invented predator, ideally a big feline.

A/N:

Yeah, uhm... at this point, if someone was ever to give me any kind of feedback, constructive criticism or random thought, I think I'd just melt into a puddle for the attention alone. And to all those who came all the way down here, your bravery shall not be forgotten. ♥️✨

In my defense, it's (almost) all P**** P*****'s fault & of his habit of taking orphans under his wing from one planet to another.

I know people in the fandom generally tend to make Ezra and Cee go along straight away after the movie, so this will be a slightly different take on things, I guess... But even if I don't know if I'll keep this series going atm (life & maturity exam suck), a final reconciliation is definitely on the way. ;)

Oh, and any beta reader that should feel like helping me out for when I'll have the next chapters ready is warmly welcomed! My DMs are always open and I swear I don't bite! :3

#prospect (2018)#prospect movie #ezra (prospect)#cee (prospect)#pedro pascal #sophie thatcher #my writing ☁️#geez what tf did i write this so long for?#it's all sadness and insecurities and introspections #hopefully i'll fit more dialogues in for the next ones...#which means kevva help me when i'll have to put my hands on that verbose space rascal's dialogues #i already know i'll ruin him but i really don't want to but he's so fucking intimidating but—#*goes hiding in her cave*

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high-warlock-of-brooklyn · 3 years

Text

take every chance, drop every fear

Note: The art is made by the brilliant and amazing @miss-shiva-adler Thank you so much for agreeing to collab with me, you have been so terrific 💙

Summary: The Clave has given a mandate for Simon- a new mission. Get the dagger that killed the first Shadowhunter, and get it quickly. Only problem? The dagger is in possession of Jace Herondale, the continent's most notorious Vampire King. Simon has to fulfil the mission, come what may. Except, the Vampire is already aware of his intentions, and is ready to face him. The result is sure to be deadly for at least one of them. Except, the mission doesn't go the way either of them expect.

Ao3: LINK

---------

“I’m going.”

“No you’re not.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Like hell I can’t.”

Simon sighs, putting the briefing file back on the ops table. “Are you going to be like this the entire mission?”

“No.” Raphael shakes his head. “I’m not. Because there’s not going to be a mission in the first place.”

“Raphael, this isn’t your decision to make.” Simon crosses his arms.

“Okay. You’re right.” Raphael scowls. “This is your mission. But I have to say, it’s a very stupid mission.”

“What’s so stupid about it? It’s literally the simplest mission we’ve ever done. Even the Clave signed off on it.” Simon shrugs. “Get in, get the dagger, get out. It’s that easy.”

“Except for the part where you’re going into the lair of a Vampire king who’s been known to hold grudges against Shadowhunters in the past, and who guards his property more fiercely than a Draconea .”

Simon seems to bristle at that. “You don’t think I can do this?”

“I didn’t say that. I just don’t want you going in without backup. We’re Parabatais, we’re supposed to watch each other’s backs.” Raphael explains, his tone softening. Simon’s face brightens like a Mundane child on Christmas morning. “Aww you want to come with me! You want to keep me safe! I knew you were a softie inside, you big ole huggy bear.”

Raphael’s scowl deepens. “I know two hundred and sixty ways to kill someone and make it look like an accident, don’t tempt me.”

“Noted.” Simon offers him a lopsided smile. “This isn’t gonna be a cakewalk, I know that. I just- I know I’m up to it. And I’m long due for assignments anyway, I’ve been on patrol duty for way too long.”

“Nothing wrong with good old fashioned Shadowhunting,” Raphael remarks. “But if you’re so adamant, I’m going to help you with the plan.”

“I already told you my plan.” Simon reminds him.

“Yeah and I said it’s a stupid plan.” Raphael rolls his eyes. “Listen, I might not be inside watching your back, but I’ll be damned if I send you in without a proper plan. And no- don’t you dare-” he slaps away Simon’s attempt to squeeze his cheeks, “Don’t try to stop me.”

“Aye aye boss.” Simon offers him a mock salute, earning another eyeroll.

“Now I was thinking we could chart the ins and outs of the DuMort, maybe get some floor plans from the Archive.” Raphael says.

“I have a better idea,” Simon follows him out of the ops centre. “There have been missions of this type that I’ve seen before, and I was thinking we could maybe go through those. Learn how it works.”

“There has?” Skepticism clouds Raphael’s face, “I thought the Clave didn’t normally allow missions like this.”

“I know,” Simon nods gravely, “But these are crucial. You could even say that they provide- leverage .”

That stops Raphael in his tracks, the older Parabatai groaning as he pieces it together. “Simon Levi Lovelace, tell me you’re not going to put me through hours of a Mundane heist movie.”

“Of course not. I won’t make you sit through a movie.” Simon assures him, before breaking into a shiteating grin. “It’s a tv series!”

“Ay dios mio.”

---------------

“I can’t believe you’re still grumpy about this.”

“I’m your Parabatai, I’m allowed to be grumpy about your lack of self-preservation instincts.” Raphael tells him flatly.

“Why are you so upset? I’ve done vigorous research as you’re aware!” Simon protests weakly.

“Watching hours of tv and reading up on the man is not enough. What if you need an exit strategy quickly?” Raphael holds out a hand, a tiny round disk on it. “I asked Lily to make this specifically for you. Put it in your ear.”

“If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me to put something in my ear, I’d have two dollars. Which isn’t much but it’s weird that it has happened twice.” Simon looks at the device, debating the decision in his mind. “I know you’re concerned about my safety, and I appreciate the gesture, but I can’t take it.”

“Listen-”

Simon cuts him off before he can complain further. “I’m not refusing it because I want this to be a solo mission. I’m not taking this because Jace Herondale is the most powerful vampire on this continent and I’d rather not be caught with a device on me that crackles every time it turns on. He’ll expose me in a second. I have to focus on keeping my heartbeat even and my glamour intact, I can’t have any other distractions.”

Raphael stays silent for a moment, and Simon worries that he has insulted his best friend by declining the clearly thoughtful gift. But Raphael is nodding in agreement the next moment, and relief almost knocks Simon off his feet.

DuMort looks as sullen and abandoned as it perpetually does, and Simon feels tendrils of insecurity creep in as he stands outside wearing a white t shirt under the black leather jacket he raided from Raphael’s closet.

What if the intel was wrong and there’s no party at all and he looks like a fool when he has to go back to the Institute empty handed?

His hands fly to fidget with the cuffs of his jacket, nervously bouncing on his toes. Finally, after an excruciating wait of three minutes, Simon spots the stray lights of a strobe, a distant thumping vibrating the ground under his feet. He walks into the building, his senses at the highest of his abilities. Simon isn’t sure if it’s because of all the runes he’s activated under his glamour, or his anxiety sending a tingling sensation at his fingertips.

A healthy dose of each, he supposes.

The thumping of bass increases tangentially the closer he gets to the party venue. Simon spots no less than six vampires lounging in the dark corridors, a few perched on the banisters. It’s not something to inspire confidence, but it’s certainly a manageable number, if a situation rises. Finally, after a few minutes of going through some of the most complicated floor plans he’s ever seen, he comes face to face with the actual venue.

The party is….well there is a reason the Vampire king’s parties have a certain reputation .

There are aerial acrobats hanging from the chandelier that’s roughly the size of Simon’s room in the Institute, worth way more than he can probably imagine. The buzz of music is ever present, the bass shaking him to his very bones. Numerous waitstaff in wide ranges of clothing mingle in the crowd, offering drinks to the patrons.

The Herondale Clan symbol can be seen standing stark against the ashen skin of their wrists, the tattoo of a set of fangs biting a dagger dripping blood seared in his memory from Raphael’s in depth briefing. The knowledge does very little to soothe his nerves, hands flying to fidget with the decorative chains on his jacket.

One of the waitresses approaches him, and Simon debates between turning her away to remain alert but risk sticking out, or drinking anyway and take a gamble on his generally lightweight nature. But turns out he doesn’t need to make a decision after all, as she puts a glass of golden liquid in front of him, gesturing to the back of the club when he looks at her curiously, leaving just as gracefully as she came.

Simon picks the glass up, the doubtless expensive glass a comforting weight in his hands. The back of the club is darkly lit, adorned with only a single leather sofa big enough for two people, three at most. Simon tries not to stare, all the wheels in his mind whirring loudly to figure out just who would send him a drink so soon since his arrival.

Call it a professional curiosity.

At last, the strobe overhead flashes in the direction he’s been squinting at for the past three minutes, and Simon catches a flash of golden hair, and a set of glowing mismatched eyes, and all the bells in his head go off at once.

-----------

Jace is trying really hard not to be offended. He really is.

It’s one thing to come to the farce they call Clave Downworlder Relations meetings and lie to his face. He expects that after so many years in the Shadow World. It’s another thing to plan to steal from right under his nose.

The moment his informant at the Institute told him about the operation, he was ready for the Shadowhunter to step into his club, so he could rip his throat out and get on with his night without a hitch.

He just didn’t expect the guy to be so non threatening. Almost……. cute .

Well it’s not a hindrance really, definitely not a wrench into his plans. More like a ring lost in a birthday cake dough that you only notice after baking. A spilled ice cream scoop at most.

Whatever, Jace thinks. He’s just going to have to toy a little with the guy before he kills him.

----------

“I haven’t seen you around here before.”

Simon tries not to bristle or let any excitement show as the golden haired vampire claims the seat next to him at the bar, the crowd parting reverently to make space for him. Simon fidgets in his seat, hoping the man assumes his racing pulse as excitement rather than the truth.

He’d rather not die so soon into the assignment. Who’d finish his new Lego set?

The vampire gestures at the bartender for a drink, not taking his eyes off of Simon even for a second. The bartender, a wiry pale man, almost passable for a Mundane were it not for the purple eyes devoid of any iris. He hands over a drink to Herondale’s hand, the liquid sloshing against the rim in his hurry. Simon notices the dark red of it in the pulsing strobe light, and shudders inside.

Blood .

Simon takes a deep breath, settling his nerves. He’s a Nephilim. This is a mission. There is no room for error. He takes a swig of his drink before speaking, the alcohol warming its way down his throat. “You know everyone who comes here?”

“I never forget a face. Besides, I’d remember a face that pretty.” The vampire answers smoothly. Simon hopes the warmth in his cheeks is from the alcohol and not the implication of whatever this is.

Hope being a loose word.

“I’m Jace Herondale, I own this place.” the blond nods at him, lips stretching in a brilliant smile. A set of fangs behind his flawless set of teeth glint in the club lights, and Simon feels a shiver go down his spine.

“Simon.” He offers, stopping himself before he blurts out the Lovelace part. Herondale raises an eyebrow.

“Just Simon?”

“Just Simon. For tonight anyway.” The brunette purses his lips.

“Well then, Just Simon ,” the vampire’s eyes sparkle with mirth, looking Simon up and down, then offers an elbow casually, “You look like someone who could use some air. Fancy a tour?”

Simon straightens in his bar stool. “Mr Herondale, I-”

“Jace, please. I insist.” Herondale smiles dangerously.

“Jace.” Simon says slowly, as if feeling out the sound of it first. “I have to say, I’m not as easy to impress as I look.”

“Well then,” the blond smirks, “I guess I will have to try my best.”

Simon takes the offered arm, walking towards the back of the club, and up the stairs towards a lavish penthouse at the top of the DuMort.

The eagle has landed in the nest, Simon thinks, the eagle has landed in the freaking nest!

---------------

It’s like taking candy from a baby honestly. Well, not that he’d actually take candy away from a child. He might be a bastard Vampire king, but even he’s not that much of an asshole.

Jace guesses it’s more like tearing throats of pretty, unaware Shadowhunters.

The Nephilim gapes as they step into the penthouse. Jace suppresses the urge to laugh as the boy stares at the glass ceiling, the New York sky resplendent with millions of stars, the Milky Way partially visible this time of year. “Cat got your tongue?” He asks. The Shadowhunter almost forces himself to tear his eyes away, as if regretting it the second he does.

Jace feels curious if Nephilims do ever get to have the time to look up at the stars.

“This- this is, just brillian- wait.” Simon stops in the middle of the drawing room, “Don’t sunlight also come in?”

“It’s reinforced. UV resistant.” Jace explains. “Made for people with sun allergies.”

Simon nods in understanding, face sincere. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Jace answers. “Come on, I have something to show you.”

Simon follows him wordlessly, remnants of the childlike wonder still on his face, until he notices the narrow lobby and hand flies instinctively towards the breast of his jacket.

As if Jace wasn’t already feeling the glare of the adamas stele in his pocket.

Jace resists the urge to scowl. In his long life, if he knows one thing, it’s that Shadowhunters respond well only to one language.

He’ll show them what violence can mean.

-----------------

“Why do you have four different bathtubs? In four different bathrooms as well?” Simon asks confusedly. “Seems kind of overkill.”

“So I can bathe however I like.” Jace shrugs. “Three of those are for specific moods, and one is for spaghetti baths.”

Simon stares at him for a moment. “I honestly don’t even want to know.” Jace laughs, throwing his head back. Simon tries not to pay attention to how beautiful the man looks when he smiles.

“It’s an inside joke.” Jace explains, before straightening up, expressions smoothing to neutral ones. “There’s something I’d like to show you. Come on.”

The man moves closer into the penthouse, and Simon follows, mapping out the escape routes almost instinctively, noting how far they are from any immediate help should he need to avail it in an emergency. There’s a twinge of disappointment somewhere underneath the part of his brain that has been trained for two and a half decades to be vigilant, and Simon has to remind himself to focus on the matter at hand.

Right. The mission.

“Here.” Jace gestures at an open door to a separate part of the structure, light from inside the room illuminating his golden locks into a resplendent sunlit glow. The Vampire offers him a tight lipped smile, and Simon notices the deadlocks on the door, and a set of biometric scanners that shouldn’t be needed for a vampire.

What the hell is he keeping in there? And what exactly does he want with Simon?

“Listen.” Jace says hesitantly before Simon can step inside, hand on the doorknob. “I haven’t really shown this room to anyone. This is somewhat of a private indulgence, and you are one of the only few to ever witness everything that’s in this room.”

Simon’s heart lurches, but he tries to keep the ruse going, lips stretched into a practiced smile. “Hey, at least if something’s missing, you’d know who to ask.”

“Yes I would.” Jace answers, fangs shining as he offers a sharp smile.

Simon is so fucking screwed.

----------------

“By the A-”

The Nephilim clamps both his hands over his mouth, possibly to keep himself from saying the name of their precious Angel. Jace pushes the eyeroll down under the feeling of knowing he rendered a Shadowhunter speechless.

“You- you have- this is- I mean I expected- but- but this- I-”

Simon sputters on, and Jace debates over how to approach the situation. He could keep up the ruse of this being a date and show off his prized possessions, and this would definitely send a clear message to the Clave not to mess with the vampire king ever again. Or he could step back and let the boy intimidate himself.

Oh well, his best friend has been telling him to practice subtlety for the past few centuries anyway.

Jace lets Simon go up to the aisles between the artifacts, eyes weaving between all them, as if trying to take them all in at once. Jace waits for a reaction, ready to relish in the knowledge that he outsmarted the Clave.

“This is the best day ever!”

Wait what?

-----------

It’s been a little over one and a half hours. They still haven’t left the collection room. Jace is beginning to fear he never will.

The Nephilim, to Jace’s utter astonishment, and more than a little disgruntled feeling, looks just as excited to see the sword that fell Vikramaditya as he is seeing the Black Volume of the Dead. He’s been over sixty such oddities, every single one of them the only one of their kind, either by nature or by design, eyeing them like a child on their birthday. He makes a mention of having a fascination with unique artifacts like these since childhood, telling Jace everything he knows about them, seeking out any extra facts the age old Vampire might know that a historical record could have missed.

Jace is starting to suspect the Clave sent this specific Nephilim planning to undermine his strategies.

Not that he’d ever admit that it’s working. Nope.

He definitely does not preen as Simon tames the usually wild Black Volume like a house cat. He absolutely does not smile indulgently when Simon gushes over the kukri used to stab Genghis Khan affectionately.

He scoffs at the mere notion that someone like him would ever even be anything other than wrathful at a Nephilim, let alone be…. fond .

Yet Simon is going up to the countless artifacts that any museum would sell all their available limbs for, and treating them the same way a Mundane might treat an old friend, and Jace’s lips quirk up in an amused smile without any conscious effort on his part.

Finally, finally, Simon rounds up the first room of the collection, coming to stand in front of a dais at the north-east corner where a single dagger lies buried in a mound of solid dirt, preserved in a decorative glass case, warlock charms the only thing keeping it the way it appears against the harshness of time.

Jace waits for something to happen, and feels something blooming deep under all the amusement and excitement and more than a little satisfaction, and tries to put a name to the feeling. It’s disappointment, he realizes a moment later.

It’s ever so rare to find someone who truly appreciates his collection, not for what they can be used for, but rather for what they represent- the undeniable unshakable proof of the world’s wonders, spanning millennia of history. It’s rarer for them to be the very joyous, caring and sweet way that he thinks is distinctly Simon.

That’s the reason for this sudden melancholy, Jace tells himself, because the alternative is so much worse. Especially when he’s going to have to wipe off the blood of the boy in front of him from his fingers in a few moments.

Simon’s back has gone ramrod straight, his expression troubled, and Jace wonders what lie he’s going to hear. Jace finds himself wondering if he will use adamas on him.

“I have a confession to make.” Simon says without turning back.

-----------

Raphael was right, he really has lost his mind.

“I need to tell you something.” Simon rambles on without a break, worried that the nerve he’s worked up will falter at the slightest pause. “I lied when I came here. I didn’t- I’m not- I’m not a Mundane. I’m a Shadowhunter. And this was my mission. To infiltrate the DuMort and obtain the dagger that killed Cain Shadowhunter. So that the Silent Brothers can study it.”

As Simon speaks, the glamour around him ripples as if every word is a stone cast in the water, and as he finishes, it falls away to nothing, showing the black runes stark against Simon’s pale skin.

Jace narrows his eyes, apprehensive of the Shadowhunter for an entirely different reason than he expected.

Simon keeps on talking. “I’m aware you might think I’m playing games with you, but I’m truly not, you can believe it. My Parabatai suggested a heist, not a con, and I wanted to do it alone. I watch a lot of Mundane TV you see, and I just wanted to test it out. Coming here undercover, flirting with you so you’d show me the dagger. All of it. But I wasn’t prepared for- for this.”

--------------

He’s done it, that wild Shadowhunter. He has managed to render Jace Herondale speechless.

He’s been expecting a lot of things. Lies. Accusations. Glamours. Even a fight. But not this. Not a clear admission of guilt. Not a confession. Not honesty.

Definitely not from a Shadowhunter of all people.

But standing in front of him, Simon looks as open as the book Jace’s mother used to read him, a time that seems like more than a few lifetimes ago. And just as familiar.

It’s not surprise, particularly, that makes him ask the question. Rather it’s the increasingly unsettling feeling, the uneasiness that claws inside some old forgotten part of him. “Why are you telling me this?” Jace asks, hoping the answer would tilt the world back into the way it was, the way it should be- a Shadowhunter cheating and lying their way into his lair, and him tearing them apart without a second thought.

But Simon, it seems, has a natural knack at surprising him.

He laughs, leaning forward, a clear sound Jace wants to hear again as soon as it subsides. His form shakes with the bouts of laughter, dark blue sneakers scuffing against the floor as Simon has to make a conscious effort to steady himself lest he topples the thirteenth century jade vase with a hidden message only to be read under clear moonlight.

Jace looks at him, questions swimming in his stare. Simon stops laughing for a second to catch his breath before he can answer.

“I’m telling you this because I’m an absolute idiot.” Simon wipes away a few stray tears that had sneaked their ways down his cheeks. “I’m a Shadowhunter, here to take back what is essentially historically ours. And I’m worried about you, the literal Vampire King, being sad.”

“What?” Jace asks, stupefied.

“My thoughts exactly.” Simon echoes. “Raphael is going to kill me.”

“Who?”

“My Parabatai,” Simon clarifies, then straightens up, shoulders rigid, the typical Shadowhunter mannerism shining through that lopsided smile. But even then, Jace notices it being filtered by a prism made of a good heart with an open mind. Then the Nephilim speaks, and the tone is, understandably, much more firm than it was a moment before.

“I have to take it. Dimensional portals are being breached, demons that haven’t been seen for millennia are swarming their way back. And we need more information. I’ll fight you if I have to. But really, you have to understand. This is a matter of safety of the whole Shadow World.”

That brings Jace back from his stupor, Simon’s words playing in his head on repeat like a beloved record. He squares his shoulders, regaining his lost composure, and regards Simon closely before he speaks. “I was aware of the ‘mission’, as you put it.” He silences Simon with a raised hand. “Yes, I have sources inside the Institute. Don’t insult my intelligence by arguing otherwise.”

“I was going to kill you once I caught you trying to steal the dagger.” Jace notices as Simon digs his nails in his palm, trying to fight off a shiver. “However, I have to admit, I was not ready for you to confess. And I was definitely not prepared for you to be so forthcoming with your intentions.”

Simon stares at him, expression resting somewhere between apprehensive and curious. “What should we do now, then?”

Jace turns, sitting against a high-backed leather chair he keeps inside the room. “In any case, I don’t see why we have to tarnish our professionalism.”

Simon squints in confusion. “You mean like a….. fight?”

“No, of course not. I see no reason we can’t be civilized.” Jace makes a show of mulling over the matter, before deciding on it. “I propose a deal.”

Simon crosses his arms. “I’m listening.”

“I offer the dagger to the Clave for their research, on loan . In return, I receive a generous compensation from the Institute.” Simon opens his mouth to ask something, but Jace keeps going on. “Let me finish. I also get a date with you. An actual one.”

That succeeds in shutting Simon up completely. The Shadowhunter stops, confident expression faltering at the face of the statement. He swallows, throat bobbing. “Why?”

“Why not?” Jace counters. “I had fun today, infiltration and all.” The blond smiles, as if letting Simon in on a private joke. “And it is awfully hard to find anyone that’s actually as interested in these as I am. I’ve been told most find these grim and improper for date night.”

“Ugh, amateurs.” Simon exclaims, face lit in a shining smile. “Okay then. I’ll go on a date. You know, for the greater good.”

“Ah, right. The greater good .” Jace teases.

---------------

“What the hell were you doing there for six hours?” Raphael asks in an accusatory tone as soon as he steps inside the Institute. Simon doesn’t answer, putting the wooden box gingerly on the ops table first, then shrugs off the jacket, bending his head this way and that to pop a muscle joint.

“You got the dagger.” Raphael says quietly as he opens the box. His eyes go wide once he takes in the content, enthralled to be in the presence of the stuff of legend every Nephilim child is told during bedtime.

“We have a mole here in the Institute.” Simon says, quiet enough only for Raphael to listen. The latter barely registers the words, eyes transfixed on the dagger at hand.

“Don’t be absurd.” Raphael scoffs.

“He knew about the mission, about me being undercover.” Simon raises an eyebrow.

That seems to snap Raphael out of whatever trance he’s been in ever since he took the dagger in hand. “What? Your cover’s blown?” Simon nods in agreement.

“We have to fix this right now.” Raphael puts the box away, focusing on the problem at hand. “We need to take Herondale out.”

“Already ahead of you, Rapha.” Simon claps a hand over his Parabatai ’s shoulder, assuring him. “We’re going out to Taki’s this Thursday.”

“Okay then.” Raphael nods along, before his face scrunches up as the words fully register. “Wait, what?!”

Simon can’t wait for Thursday.

#hmdiscord #nephilimdaily #idrisnnetdaily #tsccreatenet #dailyjimon #jimondaily #jace herondale #simon lewis #shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc #the mortal instruments #tmi #jay.fic #collab fic #art

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maries-gallery · 3 years

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hey hey !

I was hoping you'd do a matchup for me ?

pronouns | she - her

sexuality | straight

likes |

i love to read ! It's one of my favourite things.

i have a habit of sleeping in the sun alot.

music ! it's usually always on in my room, it helps me cope.

I like to always dress up, even if I'm never out and about.

I like kittens alot, and bunnies I have my own two kittens !

ideal partner |

someone who's in it for the long run.

someone I can dance in the middle of the night with.

and doesn't wear me out, a person who'd just sit with me sometimes.

and to take care of me, I'm sick so I need to be taken care of to exist-

oh, and they can have fun and tease me.

type | nsfw and sfw please !

appearance | I'm 4'8, olive skin, curly wavy black hair and big brown eyes

extra things | I stutter alot

thank you !

good luck on doing the matchups

have a wonderful day 🕊️

always, 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑎

Match ups are closed

Hello there ! First I wanna say that you sound so cute and really aesthetic ? I get real cottage core vibes here and this is so satisfying.

Now, I match you with Jean ! (Although it was a close tie with Reiner)

SFW :

- For him it would be love at first sight. You are just so adorable and nice and kind... Truly, in his eyes you are too good and pure for this world. Honestly his heart just melts in his chest, world stopping around him when his eyes land on your form. Speaking of which, the first time the both of you were probably kids and lived in the same village. Yes Jean has had feelings for you for a long time now and guess what ? There is not a day during which his heart has not beat for you.

- The first time the two of you met was as children, he had been out and about to help his mother bring home some bread and food when he caught you dozing in your garden, sun gently caressing your skin and grass making a soft bed for you to rest upon. He just stopped a moment to admire you and his mother had to call him at least four times before he got a move. Ever since then he tried to approach you without ever really having the courage too. He tried to bring pies and cakes to your house, claiming his mother had made them for your family, and tried to catch glimpses of you in the garden or outside. He was just so smitten with you and you didn’t even know he existed. But one day he finally got the courage to approach you and the two of you became very good friends ! That was also the first time he heard your voice and your stutters just made him blush so hard. No need to say, his crush slowly left place to a strong and everlasting love, never to change across the years. He also adores the more teasing and playful side of your personality which just complements his own so well.

- He absolutely loved everything about you. From your sweet and kind personality to your quirky habits of sleeping outside, having music on all the damn time, or dressing up for no reason. It was all perfect to him. His heart swells in his chest to the point of exploding when he sees you interacting with kittens or bunnies or any small animal really... And well he is not really one to read but he loves to see you engrossed in a book, turning pages after pages or hearing your voice as you read aloud... Actually the two of you made it a habit, you meet in the afternoon on sunny days, lay under a tree and he just listens to you as you read him a story. He also always sticks up for you and never leaves your side.

- But then you grew up and the two of you joined the corps... You became one of the iconic duos there, always together and sticking up for each other. Jean being super protective of you and you being a pure ray of sunshine, always managing to highlight the softest side of this man. And after a particularly hard expedition that’s when Jean decided he had enough. He didn’t want nor intended on spending his years swallowing up his feelings and fearing for your life all the time. He wanted you to know how hard his heart beat for you, how you meant everything. Gosh he wanted the whole world to know that he was so damn in love with you and had been for the longest of time. Luckily for him you returned his feelings, and this made him the happiest man alive.

- Now, Jean is a huge romantic (even if this may not shine through at first). Your happiness and well being are his top priorities and he is dead set on making it out with you, to live your own fairy tale once this is all over. I can see him planning and daydreaming about your marriage and a life together very early on in the relationship (or even before that to be honest). He just loves you so much and knows that you are the one for him. That said, he’d be even more protective of you after the two of you start dating, quitting whatever he was doing to help you if you needed help, always ready to punch someone if they were to insult or tease you for your stutters. And yeah, God have mercy on whoever makes you cry or hurts you because he definitely won’t. He already lost Marco and won’t let anything happen to you.

- Overall his love for you is very pure and wholesome. He doesn’t even really think of you in a sexual way (well not before you start getting sexual that is). He just wants to hug you, cuddle you, kiss you and bring a smile to your face, make your heart warm in your chest like you do to him. That said he would definitely be the type to spin you around in your living room, in the dead of the night and in the silence of your home. He’d also draw you and paint you and would ask you to model for him very often. He’d be the kind to lazily play with your hair as an outlet for his nerves. But he also loves it when the two of you can have silly banters or playfully tease each other. He’d chase you around the room to tickle you to death, would squish your cheeks together to laugh at how you look like a blob fish and would carry you around, laughing at your silly attempts to get out of his grasp.

- Then another amazing feature of your relationship is probably how you are always very supportive of one another. Jean tends to feel very insecure deep down and you know it, thus you always have a kind and reassuring word for him whenever he feels down. Just like he always has words and gestures for you when something is wrong, ready to listen to you and hold you.

- Honestly the two of you are just so beautiful together and such a good pair. He’d respect your boundaries and is a very soft boyfriend. He also brags to everyone about how wonderful his girlfriend is, regardless of how shy you may be.

Song :

Adore You, Harry Styles

Scenario :

The soft glow of the moon showered the dark living room in faint rays of light. Stars were out to admire the spectacle below, two lovers dancing to the beat of their own drum, ignorant of time slipping by and day approaching fast. In their own world, away from everyone and everything, secured in the comfort of their home after years of fighting for peace.

One step to the right, one to the left. And repeat. Jean’s arms held you close to him, never letting go. A hand on your waist and another holding your hand to guide you in a slow dance. His nose buried in your hair, inhaling as he hummed a soft tune for the two of you only, a few howls and creatures of the night accompanying him in his solo. You leaned against his chest, ear pressed against his heart and listened to it beat just for you.

He gently cradled you, swinging the both of you from side to side, careful not to bump into any furniture. Although the couch and coffee table had been pushed back against the walls to make room for your performance.

His loving eyes glanced down at you, a tender smile curving his lips.

How had he gotten so lucky ? He had loved you for so long, the two of you had seen and lived through so much. And still there you were, peacefully dancing in the living room after the world nearly came to an end.

He still remembered the first time he saw you, he was 10 back then. You were lazily lying on the grass, eyes closed and locks of hair softly ruffled by the gentle wind, sun shining down on you like you were its very own child. From that moment on he had been yours. You had stolen his heart without even looking at him, without even knowing he existed.

During all these years he had admired you, loving you in silence and watching after you, marvelling at every smile and every laugh, every moment the two of you shared. And now here you were, resting in his hold, your heart his as much as his was yours. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Now with nothing on your way, the future has never looked brighter. And although the past may cling onto you, you’d face it hand in hand, ready to take over the world again and finally live your happily ever after.

And this happy ever after started tonight as Jean gently let go of you, spinning you around and then getting down on one knee, hand going to his pocket and retrieving a small box.

And there, under the kind gaze of the Moon, your boyfriend looked at you, stars in his eyes rivalling the sky’s.

“Would you be mine forever ?”

NSFW :

- Jean is traditionally a gentle dominant. He is here to serve and loves to take care of you. Very gentle in all everything he does, every touch he leaves on your aching body and every kiss he places on your begging skin. He wants nothing more than to hear you moan and to feel you twitch and crumble in his hands. His favourite positions would be missionary and cowgirl. He loves eye contact and the view, how he gets to see every expression you make. He also has amazing access to your shoulders, neck and face, perfect to rain kisses and love bites on your skin as he thrusts into you.

- He can honestly be both gentle and passionate or rough and fast. In function of what you want and how he feels in the moment. But rest assured that he loves to take his sweet sweet time with you, to savour your touch and the warmth of your body pressed flush against his. That said you’d be completely satisfied and full after a session with Jean. His objective is to please you and give you a good time and he is not straying away from it. He also sees sex as a very romantic and special thing so expect lots of soft and gentle gestures like holding hands, eye contacts, brushes of his lips on your jaw and whispers of how beautiful you are and how much he loves you.

- But don’t be fooled, guy is also a huge huge tease, he knows perfectly what he is doing and how crazy he makes you by barely dragging his fingers on your skin, from your chess to your inner thighs. Foreplays just last forever with him, with you begging for his touch and him very casually and innocently asking you why you are being so fidgety when he barely touched you yet. Yes, that is the problem, Sir. He’d let his hand ghost over your entrance and would steal your breath with a kiss, all the while enjoying how you wiggle your hips in an attempt to bring him closer, to have him touch you where you want him the most.

- When it comes to kinks he has a huge daddy kink and loves to please his sweet little baby girl, he’d compliment and praise you in the dirtiest of ways, whispering in your ear how good you are doing for daddy and how he is proud of his pretty baby girl. On the other hand, praise him and he’ll be putty in your hands, passion flooding through his veins and he just can’t stop himself from making a mess out of you, picking up his pace and giving you exactly what you want. He is just so weak for you. He also has a breeding kink and the thought of one day having a family of your own just... Drives him wild with desire and love for you. He also has a size kink and loves feeling himself inside of you by pressing a hand on your abdomen. But overall he is just very much vanilla.

- He isn’t particularly loud when he moans, but he does a lot of talking and praising. Then he also grunts and sighs in your ear and when he finally reaches his high he’d let out the prettiest and sweetest call of your name. Your moans really gets him going too and he just loves to hear you, would sometimes ask you to moan louder just so he can bathe in the sound of your pretty voice.

That’s it ! Hope you enjoyed it and take care of yourself :))

#aot x reader #snk x reader #Matchups #jean x reader

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