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nagito-kissmaeda · 2 years

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if it isn't real, why does the sun still burn?

CHAPTER ONE: Rise and Shine CHAPTER TWO: i guess its all up to me now CHAPTER THREE: Predictably, everything gets worse CHAPTER FOUR: good morning CHAPTER FIVE: Something to eat CHAPTER SIX: a start the links for chapter seven and eight are busted on tumblr. please read on AO3 CHAPTER NINE: Visitation Rights

Komaeda Nagito x Talentless!Reader

Summary : Like most people visiting this tag. You have always dreamed of meeting Nagito Komaeda for real, what you would do, what you would say? Things don’t go as planned.

AKA: Reader from our universe ends up in danganronpa and is just trying her best to keep everyone alive. and maybe to make komaeda kiss her.

Contains: she/her pronouns, EXPLICIT NSFW CONTENT, panic attack ment read on AO3

Komaeda looks very peaceful when he’s asleep.

You probably should be sleeping yourself instead of watching, but despite your exhaustion from the previous day spent stressing about things to come, sleep just isn't happening. The couch isn't uncomfortable , it’s a little short for you, but you sleep curled up anyway so it isn't a big deal. The main problem is just how much it smells like Komaeda in this damn room.

He told the rest of the class that you were going to be staying in his cottage. That would have been over ten hours ago now, back at breakfast. He neglected to give you much in the way of specifics, but from what he did tell you. It sounds like the reactions were a mixed bag. Koizumi apparently seemed relieved that you wouldn't be tied up on the floor anymore, which was comforting to hear, but you doubt that her reaction was shared with the more paranoid types like Souda and Togami. There’s a tapping noise against the window and you try to bury your face in the pillow and just ignore it. Jabberwock island is hot as ever, a bead of sweat drips down between your shoulder blades as you curl into the couch and squeeze your eyes shut. The tapping becomes more insistent, and you huff into the pillow. There's rustling outside in the bushes, so you slowly sit up and turn to face the window, too scared to make a noise. “She’s not waking up!” A voice hisses, startling you, “How are we going to do this without alerting Komaeda?” Oof. No honourific, bad sign.

“Have no fear! Ibuki has idea!” Mioda stage whispers, still managing to be louder than most normal speaking voices.

You are very much awake now, though still worried that too much movement could wake Komaeda at any moment. So you stay still and hope whatever the two outside are planning is quiet “Shh, Mioda-san! We can’t risk waking him up!” You now recognise the voice as Hanamura, he sounds frightened, “who knows what he’ll do to her.” “A-Ok! I can sing a high pitched note that boys can’t hear!” Mioda sucks in a deep breath, and you manage to leap from the couch and push the blinds out of the way before she lets the note loose. “It’s okay!” You hiss, “I’m awake, please no singing!” Mioda squeals when she sees you, but Hanamura claps a hand over her mouth just in time. “Are you alright?” He asks, “He hasn’t hurt you?” “Oh. I’m fine— really I am.” He sighs, relieved, “I was so worried. It would have been all my fault if something terrible happened, I knew he was planning something but I didn’t say anything.” Komaeda shifts a little, and the three of you freeze. You peek at him from the corner of your eye, he’s still fast asleep, “Move around to the front of the cottage” you whisper, “We’re going to wake him up if we keep talking like this.” “Okay, yeah. Good idea.” Hanamura replies, his hand still clamped firmly over Mioda’s mouth, “We’ll meet you there.” As the two of them start walking away from the window, you gingerly let the venetian blinds drop back down, being careful not to let them rattle against the window frame. Then you turn on your heel and start tip-toeing your way over to the door. Komaeda whimpers in his sleep and rolls around to face you, his brow is furrowed and his cheek is covered in marks from the creases on his pillowcase. Your heart is trying to force its way up into your throat. He’s pretty. You shake your head and continue to the door, a little faster but still just as quietly. Komaeda has left his keys on a hook just by the door, so you grab them and tuck them into the pocket of your pajama shorts. The ocean air is cold and refreshing when you step out of the cottage, carefully letting the door fall closed behind you. Mioda and Hanamura are also in their sleeping clothes. Hanamura’s matching set is covered in cinnamon rolls, Mioda is wearing an oversized band shirt that reaches down to her mid thigh, her usual hairstyle forgone for a simple ponytail. “Cuuuuute jammies!” Mioda exclaims when you step fully into view. Your cheeks begin to burn, and you fiddle with the hem of your shorts, “Oh, um. Thanks?” you cough, “anyway, was there something important you needed to talk to me about?” Hanamura balks at you, “Obviously! We need to talk about your new murderous roommate!” “Oh ya.” Mioda says, tapping the side of her nose, “I totes forgot that was why we were here.” she clasps her hands behind her back and bounces on her toes, “Ibuki heard everything at the party! You aren’t guilty of anything! Zip! Zilch! Nada! No comprende!” You had…entirely forgotten about Mioda’s powerful hearing. You had been so focussed on stopping Komaeda and saving both Hanamura and Togami that so many of the finer details had escaped you. “Mioda-san and I are going to try and see if anyone else in the class noticed anything. There must be some way we can clear your name” Hanamura’s usually soft expression turns stern, “And hopefully get Komaeda locked up instead-” “Oh! Uh! You don’t have to do that!” You say, jumping to Komaeda’s defense a little too quickly, “Komaeda-san he’s not- uh…he’s-” What are you doing? How are you supposed to explain that Komaeda really isn't that bad and that he’s just got a bunch of weird ideals and a cocktail of mental illnesses without sounding like you’re absolutely insane? He almost caused a murder, whether he died himself or he ended up doing the killing it would have started the horrible killing game that Monokuma is running and yet- “He won’t hurt me. I’m okay.” Hanamura frowns, “You don’t know that. You didn’t see him the afternoon before the party, knife in hand and just--just laughing to himself.” “We can’t fight anymore, Hanamura-san.” You say quietly, “This is what they want. Whoever is running this killing game wants to drive us apart and force us to fight and kill. Komaeda-san…he just…” You laugh a little, pushing your hair away from your face, “He needs someone to look after him - he won't try anything again, I promise.” “If he does try anything though, Ibuki will kick his skinny ass!” Mioda demonstrates with a high kick that almost gets Hanamura square in the noggin’. Hanamura just barely dodges the kick and takes a step towards you, nervously holding one of your hands between both of his, “I don’t understand why you trust him…but, I guess I’ll have to follow your judgment for now” He inclines his head in Mioda’s direction, “Mioda-san and I will keep an eye on you, and try to convince the others that you had nothing to do with the knife. If you don’t want us to push the blame onto Komaeda, we won’t.” he averts his eyes, “Even if he deserves it.” “Thank you. Both of you.” You let out a relieved sigh, “We really need to focus our efforts on getting off this island, I’ll handle Komaeda-san, you guys just focus on yourselves for now, okay?” Hanamura sighs, “Before we go, I have something for you.” He slings a satchel off his shoulder that you hadn’t noticed, “I don’t know how well that guy is feeding you, so here’s some more food. I’ll come by in a day or so with more.” He gives you a warm smile, “Take care of yourself.” After saying goodbye to both of them, you speak back inside the cottage and close the door behind yourself before hanging the key back up on the hook. You only make it halfway back to the couch before you’re caught. “Did you have fun out there?” You whirl around to see Komaeda, still in bed but very much awake. The blanket is tucked under his chin and his hair is a mess, but his eyes are calculated and clear like he was never even asleep. Your breath catches in your throat, “You--You were awake the whole time?” He chuckles, “Of course. I’m a very light sleeper.” his lips curl in a mischievous smile, “Do you really trust me as much as you say? I don’t take you for a liar, but I have done nothing worthy of such unwavering faith.” “I’m just trying to keep everyone safe, that’s all.” His eyes dip down to the expanse of your thigh revealed by your sleep shorts, but he quickly clears his throat and turns away, “Admirable, to be sure.” his eyes meet yours again, and there's a saccharine smile on his lips, “I have little concern with you talking things over with the others, so there’s no need to be so secretive next time.” he sighs, “It’s not as if i have a good reputation among the other ultimates anyway. I’m hardly worth their time.” You swallow, dithering in the middle of the room before breathing, “I find that hard to believe” *** “So, ya gonna tell me what got your panties in a twist? Or do ya want me to guess?” You jump up from where you were sitting on the couch. You had once again spent most of the day cooped up inside Komaeda’s cottage just…thinking. Sonia had stopped by to check on you and affirm that she didn’t believe you had done anything wrong, but other than that, it had just been you and Komaeda. And now, Monokuma. You groan, “What do you want?” The bear giggles, and starts making himself comfortable on Komaeda’s bed. Komaeda himself is in the shower, you can still hear the water running and doubt he has even noticed the unexpected guest. “You're in love with him. Aren't you?” You blink, “What…?” “That kooky guy, the freakazoid. Ya know, Komaeda-kuuuuuun~” Monokuma leans forward, cupping his face in his hands, “I saw you ogling him when he came to feed you. I bet you were hungry for more than just food, huh?” “Sh--Shut up…” You say, turning to face away from Monokuma, and trying not to look at the bathroom door either. “Upupupu! I've struck a nerve? How deeeeelightful!! Is this what your despair is? Being trapped here with the man you love and have loved for years, but in order for him to live, you have to stop existing? You know that right? That just like little ol’ me, the end of this program means the end of you. What delicious despair, I'm almost jealous of you!” You freeze, heart thumping loudly in your chest, “Wait, you…you know, don’t you?” “‘Course I do, kiddo! You’re not supposed to be here!” He jumps down from the bed and clamors up on the coffee table, struggling a little with his stubby little legs, “I’m hanging out in the source code, remember? You just look like a screwed up mess from in here, no offense.” he laughs again, “There ain’t a single system in place for you, like i said, the Neo World program goes, and you go with it.” You’d always sort of assumed that would be the case, you don’t have a place in the real world here. Either you’ll just stop existing or go back to your own world and it’s impossible to know which. The fact that you are being forced to mull it over though, that makes your anxiety kick back up. “Just stop, okay! Leave me alone!” You exclaim, turning and crossing the room with every intention of leaving out the front door. “I can help you. If you want. I'm sure you already know my grand plan, to use the dead bodies of these people as vessels for myself, but I don't need all of them. If you kill someone, if you beat the trial, I can save him for you. This can be your own special little motive.” You stop, hand on the doorknob and turn back to face Monokuma, “Wh--what do you mean, save him?” “Oh it's not that confusing! Komaeda-Kun doesn't get executed, and you win the killing game, meaning that you get to leave. Since you don't have a body of your own, you can borrow one, any one you want, I don't mind.” Your breath is slow and even, horrifically normal despite the insane thing Monokuma is suggesting. “You can finally have the killer body you've always wanted.” He says, tracing a set of imaginary curves down his sides, “You can finally be beautiful! Owari has great tits, you could be her, or you could have Pekoyama’s thighs, or Mioda’s voice. Or…….” Monokuma leans in, and you can picture the smile on enoshima’s face, “I could put you in Hinata-kun. Would you like that?” “SHUT UP” You cry out, fists clenching at your sides. “I’ve seen the way Komaeda follows him around like a lost puppy. You’re jealous aren’t you?” The bear points a stubby paw in your direction, “So, take Hinata’s body, and you could do whatever you want to Komaeda. Kissing, fucking, the works. It doesn't bother me-” “STOP” “Hm. Well, the option is always there. Like I said, you're own special little motive. Bye-onara for now, I'll keep in touch” Monokuma vanishes into thin air, and you are left alone in the room. Breath heaving, tears beading in your eyes. What the fuck was that? What does Enoshima think she is playing at? You gulp in a shaky breath of air, struggling to use your lungs without breaking into a sob. You’d always figured that Monokuma knew exactly what you were up to, that’s kind of his whole deal. So that revelation wasnt a surprising one, but the fact that Enoshima can literally see the garbled code that comprises of your meager existence is fucked up, your just a line of faulty script. Deletable, broken. “Are you okay?” Komaeda asks gently when he comes out from the bathroom, his hair is extra fluffy from the blow dryer, “I thought I heard arguing, but I wasn't exactly in an appropriate state of dress to interrupt.” You sniff, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palm to keep back the tears you can feel are waiting to make an appearance, “Yeah, um. Just had a visit from the bear . Little bastard he is.” “Ah.” “Yeah.” You laugh bitterly, taking a seat on the bed, “I’m fine though. Nothing important happened, he was just…bothering me.” That. And now all you can think about is the next motive must be coming soon, probably even tomorrow. What other reason would Monokuma have for visiting? If not to gauge how everyone is holding together and if they need another push . You chew on a thumbnail, just hoping that the next motive will still be the arcade game because then at least you can get out there and beat it before anyone else. You aren’t sure if Monokuma would let you tamper with it, so you might just need to sit there until- “You’re stressed.” Komaeda says, it isn’t a question, it’s a definitive statement. You giggle, shocked to be so quickly ripped from your train of thought, “I am.” You reply, staring down at the floor instead of meeting his eyes “I’m not…I’m not meant to do this. I have to but I’m just-“ you stiffen a little, realizing that you’re getting far too personal, “sorry. I shouldn’t complain.” Komaeda hums, taking a few steps towards you. His hair smells like coconut shampoo, “I did tell you I was willing to help. If you’re stressed, I’m sure you can find some way to make use of me.” You dismiss his offer with a wave of your hand, “thanks, but uh…the anxiety is permanent. Not much you can do for that.” He walks even further forward, until he is standing just inches away from you, “I’m…ah…quite certain I know at least one way to help, a little.” He drops to his knees, “if you would like my help, that is.” Your heart stops There’s no way. There’s no fucking way that he is offering what you think he is. This is impossible, you’re dreaming, you're dead, maybe it’s just Monokuma pulling a sick prank somehow. Anything is more likely than…than… Komaeda reaches out a hand, resting it on top of your knee and slowly edging your thighs open. You can’t stop shaking, your breath is coming hard and fast- “Do you want me to keep going?” He breathes and every part of you is screaming YES YES YES you scrunch your eyes shut, because you know that he’s just trying to be helpful. He doesn’t actually like you, does he? He sees that you're stressed and he wants to help, do you really want to take advantage of him? You open your eyes again, ready to turn him down, to be the bigger person for once in your pathetic life. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip And any resolve you may have had, shatters. “Please…” you whimper, in a voice so delicate that it almost feels like it isn’t your own, “keep going…” You’re wearing one of your many sundresses, so there is little between Komaeda and your skin. His hands are big on your thighs when he slowly pushes the dress up and over your hips, he lets out a sigh, and gently brushes a line up the front of your panties with a knuckle. “Ngh!” He chuckles when your hips stutter forward into his touch, he does it again. Firmer. You clutch tightly to the bed sheets as the roiling waves of pleasure lance through you, chin bowed to your chest and mouth hanging open. Komaeda wraps his bony fingers around the waistband of your panties, “Lift up.” “Oh, uh, yeah.” You lift up your hips so he can tug your panties over them, and the nerves reawaken in your chest, “Komaeda, are you sure-” He is touching you again, his head resting against your left thigh as his thumb lazily circles your bare clit. You almost yelp, and he smirks, “Your panties are cute, by the way. I did notice.” The knuckle of his index finger presses against your entrance, firm enough that you can feel the taste of penetration, but not enough that it satisfies . He likes to tease, of course he does. His thumb is still rubbing hot, tantalizing circles around your swollen clit all while he looks up at you with those lazy eyes. Then, he removes his hand, shuffling in closer between your thighs. You can feel his warm breath on your bare skin, he wraps one arm around your left leg, clamping his fingers into the soft skin of your thigh. Your other knee is bouncing erratically, you can't stop it. Komaeda lifts up his free hand and rests it on your bouncing knee. Rubbing gentle circles until it stops moving, “Shh…” he whispers against your sex, “Relax for me, okay?” You suck a breath in through your teeth, “Okay...okay…” The moment hangs in the air, nervous and shaky, before his head descends and he presses a warm kiss against your clit. You let out an airy sigh, thighs shaking on either side of his head. Komaeda reads your reaction, and avoids your clit for now, correctly realizing that you are still far too sensitive. He instead switches to dragging his tongue slowly up between your folds, teasing you with the occasional dip into your entrance. His hands are ever present, gripping tightly to your thighs as he devours you. Every swipe of his tongue up the length of your cunt brings out another wave of guilt. You don’t even know where your relationship with him lies and you just let him do this to you, and so quickly too. He circles your entrance, pushing inside just enough that you feel it. This is too good. For something you shouldn't be doing, it's just too good . He barely knows you, he tried to get himself murdered just a few days ago and now he’s tongue fucking you like it never even happened. You squeeze your eyes shut, moans and whimpers escaping your mouth while all you can think about is how you shouldn’t have said yes . Then his lips wrap around your clit, and the part of your brain that is always worrying, just turns off . You toss your head back in a moan, rolling your hips forward into his awaiting mouth and bury one hand in his hair It’s soft . Softer than you’d ever imagined, and god had you imagined. Komaeda’s mouth is hot and warm, alternating between sucking and circling your swollen clit with his tongue, following your moans and repeating what makes you scream. He drops one of your legs, two long fingers pushing inside of you all the way to the second knuckle as he licks back and forth, just teasing you with the tip of his tongue before pressing hard against you with the flat of it. His fingers curl up and you yelp. He pulls back just a little, and says with a laugh, “There you are” before pulling your clit back between his lips, curling his fingers over and over, pressing firmly against the perfect spot every single time. You feel him laugh again, and look down to see his eyes peering up at you from over the curve of your belly. He watches in adoration as he pushes in a third finger and you cry out in ecstasy. Your fingers are nowhere near that long, that dexterous. Every touch is a shot straight to your core, hips grinding sinfully against his face and near crying with each suck of your clit. Komaeda is moaning now, your own noises so loud that you had barely noticed, but it's true, he’s enjoying this too. Whimpering and groaning as he buries himself between your thighs, sobbing when your legs tighten around him. “Can you come for me?” He asks, voice gentle and perfect even as his fingers fuck you with perfect precision. His tongue returns to you, licking in delicate circles. “Y--Yes…” You whine, tugging hard enough on his hair that he moans again. His fingers move faster, building atop the crescendo that is already growing deep inside you. Hot searing pleasure that makes it feel like you might go supernova with just one more touch. His eyes meet yours again, “Do it, please. Come on my tongue, please .” “I---I---I--ah!” You struggle to speak as he presses his tongue against you again, firmly all hot and wet and his fingers curl up into that perfect shape that has you absolutely shattering. Your legs shake and your hips grind as you let out a cry without abandon. It takes a moment for you to catch your breath. Head lolling back as your breath heaves and the warmth in your chest blooms out to the rest of your body. When you finally have the energy to look back down, Komaeda is sitting back on his heels, peering up at you with a smile. “Feeling better?”

#komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #danganronpa x reader

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wefallforever · 9 months

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Spoilers for episode 6 of the bear below!

The first thing I have to say after finishing this episode: 🗣️🗣️Natalie "Sugar" Berzatto has never done anything wrong in her life EVEN ONCE!! (Can you tell I'm an eldest "daughter" LMAO 🥲)

But for real though this episode was so fucking intense. I'm personally a christmas lover but ep. 6 is the perfect example of why people hate the holidays. All the family bunched up together in one space and the dynamics get so chaotic so fast.

Ugh the wounds in this family! You can see the horrors of addiction and toxic dysfunction reverberating in all their actions. Of course we try to cover it up, pretend things are normal, that things are comfortable. Meanwhile the air in the room feels too tight and the demons/scared inner children we hold within are screaming for attention. "I AM IN PAIN! I FEEL UNLOVED! I AM ANGRY! WHY DOESN'T ANYONE CARE! PAY ATTENTION TO ME NOTICE ME!"

The sibling pep talk at the beginning felt sooo familiar. "Make a plan to keep our unstable mom in check. It is doomed to fail, but we are trying anyways!" Desperately doing everything you can to help her while she screams that you don't care-threatens to die, to go away, because we are all so cruel to her. Ultimately we cannot actually stop her from going away and being closed off to us, no matter how much broken glass we sweep up off the floor. (No amount of bleeding and tears and begging and pleading can change her. As much as we would like).

OOF and that deep dissociation we see from Carmy and Sugar at the end?!!! Brutal as fuck! My consciousness damn near left my body too. Had to remind myself out loud I wasn't in actual danger. And poor Mikey screaming at his mom to open the door over and over, to let him help over and over, while she just laughed and laughed and laughed? Definitely the kind of thing you have to unpack in a 12 step meeting.

The last thing I will say is Uncle Lee deserved that third spoon!!! Obviously Mikey was being a dick with the first two but Lee kept provoking him when he should have just shut the fuck up and left. Then when he made that unkind comment about Donna who is clearly suffering from mental illness!!! I was like "do what you gotta do Mikey fuck him up!" That could be the aries rising talking but I'm not sure.

Very excited to finish the last three episodes over the weekend!

#disclaimer I still have to start episode 8 #the bear fx #rambling and projecting #the writers for sure need to be paid more they put their entire pussy in this one

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ppersonna · 3 years

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my only wish - knj | m

“ santa can you hear me? i have been so good this year. and all i want is one thing. please tell me my true love is here ” - my only wish (this year), britney spears

✹ summary- There are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 15.1k OOF

✹ genre- smut, fluff, tiny tiny angst if you squint, enemies to lovers, fake dating au, idiots to lovers, brief mention of YoonMin

✹ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex (dont do it), daddy kink lolol, namjoon has a big dick, oral sex (m/f receiving), cum swallowing, light cum play, dirty talk, light degradation (very light tbh), praise kink, lots of mentions of joon being a beefy boy, masturbation,

✹ a/n- its here!! finally! my contribution to rockin around the christmas tropes. big big big shout out to @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen @underthejoon @yeojaa @snackhobi for being my co collaborators. and a warm shout out to @wwilloww and @hobi-gif for being some very lovely betas. thank you thank you! i hope you enjoy!

There are few things you hate most in this world.

Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange…

But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things:

Christmas.

And Kim Namjoon.

Christmas, in your opinion, is nothing more than a consumerist holiday, anchored on ensuring you’re guilted enough from November 1st to the 25th of December to spend your hard earned money on shit your friends and loved ones won’t even use. It’s a time for people to pretend they love giving and caring, while shoving you out of lines in stores, buying up all the groceries as if it’s the end times, and forcing party after mindless party for “celebration” that ends in seeing your boss drunk and pants-less by the punchbowl.

And don’t even start on Kim Namjoon.

On paper, he’s your colleague, to put the terms friendly. In reality, he’s your opponent, your adversary. He’s annoying, rude, stuck up, and not to mention a douchebag heartbreaker. He’s everything you hate wrapped in one disgustingly handsome face.

The man never misses a chance to steal a case from underneath your nose, rub the praise he receives from your bosses in your face, and look ridiculously delectable in his tight suits that he insists he wears around the office. He absolutely infuriates you.

And now, as you sit in the company-wide meeting, your heart sinks as you realize the worst thing about Namjoon—he’s about to get the promotion you’ve been vying for your entire career.

That position was as good as yours—at least, you had thought.

That was until lead counsel, Seokjin, stands in front of all the attorneys present and calls out Namjoon’s name, commending him on winning his latest case—the case that you had done the bulk of the work for. Seokjin even tells the rest of the lawyers in the room that Namjoon is “someone to watch” with a glint of pride in his eyes.

The smug smile Namjoon sends in your direction as he teasingly nibbles on a pen with his sultry mouth is enough to make you want to tear his eyes out and use them as olives in the martini you sorely needed.

Namjoon smirks as he walks past you once the meeting ends.

“Make sure you watch me, baby,” he whispers into your ear.

His hand rests on your lower back and you hate how much he aggravates you, and hate even more so that he frustrates you sexually as much as he does intellectually.

Unfortunately, your body can’t keep up with your mind’s distaste for the elder lawyer. His presence around you makes your blood vessels tighten and your head feel light—nipples prickling against your bra when he winks at you.

“Asshole,” you whisper under your breath as you pack up your notebook.

“Oh, ___!” Seokjin calls out just as you’re about to leave the all-glass meeting room.

Your head suddenly screeches to a very frustrated, sexual halt when you turn to face the lead counsel of your company.

“Yes, Mr. Kim?”

“I’ve got a case for you.”

The smile on his face makes you relax. Maybe he sees your potential. Maybe he’s testing you just as much as he’s testing Namjoon. Maybe you’ll be the “one to watch” and you can rub that right in Namjoon’s perfect, stunning face.

A thick manila folder slides across the oak table towards you from Seokjin’s hands. The impressive volume of the dossier makes you giddy with anticipation.

“I know you won’t let me down.”

You nod, nibbling at your lips, before bowing to your superior and dashing out of the room as fast as your Louboutins can handle.

It’s not until you sit at your desk, a cramped little cubicle next to Park Jimin, your best friend and paralegal assistant, that you open the folder.

Your heart sinks as your eyes hurriedly rush over the title page.

Personal Injury Suit.

A dejected sigh leaves you as you throw the folder onto your desk and slouch back in your ergonomic office chair.

“What’s up, pussycat?” Jimin smiles as he rolls his chair over to your side of the cubicle. “Namjoon got you worked up again?”

You groan as you take off your reading glasses, setting them aside to rub at the burgeoning headache building at your temples. You had momentarily forgotten all about Namjoon in the hurried hope that you’d land a case of significance, something you could finally use to prove yourself.

Instead, you gained yet another in-and-out, settle outside of court case. Likely some elderly geriatric suing a corporation for too-slippery floors.

“Another fucking personal injury suit,” you whine as you thrust the folder into the lithe paralegal’s hands.

He looks over the documents and sucks his teeth.

“Man, Seokjin really has it out for you.”

You level a look at your best friend, before nodding and holding your head in your hands.

“Namjoon is getting all the good cases! He gets the media attention, the litigation deals, everything! It’s like I’m not even given a chance to show what kind of lawyer I can be when I’m stuck with all the nursing home and car accident suits!”

Jimin bows dutifully, nodding his head as you express your woes.

“I can do more than just personal injury litigation… and Seokjin knows that! It’s just that Namjoon keeps getting all the air-time!”

“I know, babe. I know.”

With one last sigh of disbelief, you take the folder out of Jimin’s hands and sit upright at your desk.

“Well, I guess if I’m going to be a personal injury lawyer, I’m going to be the best fucking one yet. Let’s get to work.”

“Yeah! Fighting!” Jimin cheers.

Namjoon sighs as he listens to his mother blabber on and on through his phone. He leans back in his chair and surveys the wide expanse of his corner office.

Seokjin gave him this space, an upgrade from the desolate cubicles when he won his last big case, Kim Taehyung, artist v. the city of New York. He can’t help but smirk as he glimpses you from his window, pouring over a case file. He notes the curve of your back in the silk blouse you’re wearing and the way it tucks into your pencil skirt. He wishes he could see the outline of your ass and watch as it sways back and forth when you walk.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t ever bring anyone home for the holidays!”

His mother breaks him from his silent reverie of detailing every aspect of your backside.

“You know your grandmother will not be alive much longer! And all she wants is her only grandson to be happy and in love! And a few grandchildren won’t hurt!”

“I am her grandchild, Mom.”

She’s silent for a moment.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind some grandchildren either.”

He groans again and presses his fingers to his forehead, a headache bubbling up behind his eyes.

“Don’t you act like that, young man! You have a big empty house, big car, big life, and no one to share it with. I just want you to be happy.”

She continues on and Namjoon can’t help but let her words sink in.

He has it all. Expensive luxury apartment, enormous bed, gorgeous kitchen, money to spend on traveling and enjoying life. Yet he spends most of his time here, stuck in his office. He’s utterly alone, regardless of how many social guests he tries to entertain, horrid dates he attempts to go on. He’s always left alone, and he feels it deep at the very bottom of his heart—the loneliness and desire for a companion.

“Mom! Mom!” He interrupts her diatribe on the futility of his adult life. “Stop!”

“Namjoon, I’m just conce-”

“I’ll bring home my girlfriend for the holidays, okay?”

There’s a stunned silence on the other end.

“A girlfriend?” she asks, tentatively. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, wincing already at the lie he’s spoon-feeding his poor mother—all in the name of getting her off his back. “She’s kind of shy, so I didn’t want to tell you about her yet, but now seems like the best time. I’m... I’m even thinking of proposing.”

The words come out of Namjoon’s mouth before he can stop them. His mom bursts into screams of delight, and he can tell she’s running to his beloved grandmother to tell her the news.

“Oh, Namjoon! This is all we’ve ever wanted for you. I’m so proud of you! I can’t wait to meet her! Oh, goodness, I can’t want to tell your father. Goodbye, son! I’ll see you two soon!”

She hangs up before Namjoon has a chance to even breathe.

“Fuck.”

He drops his phone to his wooden desk and grimaces.

How the hell is he going to find a fiance in the next 3 days before the holiday break?

There’s Jennie, his ex.

He thinks about it for a moment, before quickly dismissing it. No, much too clingy and possessive. She’d take it to be real, and he’d be stuck with her.

His last hookup, Jihoo?

No, too aloof. His mom would never buy that they were a love-sick couple on the brink of engagement.

A crash outside his office startles Namjoon, making him stand and exit the large corner suite.

The commotion is coming from your cubicle, where he can see you’re struggling to use the decrepit computer. The crash must have been from you slamming the keyboard to the desk, causing the individual keys to pop off the board.

“Shit! Jimin, help me put this keyboard back together!”

You shimmy out of your chair and onto your knees, an excellent sight for Namjoon if he wasn’t so concerned about your well-being.

The paralegal is standing above you, watching as you kneel to gather the pieces of the obliterated keyboard.

“Oh no, honey. It’s against my personal constitution to be on my knees unless it’s for a handsome man.”

“God, Jimin, come on.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you hulk-smashed the life out of that poor keyboard.”

Namjoon smirks, turning back into his office and sliding into his desk. He easily opens his MacBook and emails Yoongi in IT, requesting a brand new computer for your desk—no holds barred. He wants the top of the line for you.

He suddenly has just the person in mind to be his fake fiancée.

A brand new, gorgeous computer is at your desk the next day you arrive. You nearly spill your hot peppermint mocha when you see the sleek machine atop your old plastic desk instead of the broken clunker that was there the day before.

“What the hell?” You ask Jimin as you set your coffee down gently as if any movement might scare the new computer away. “Did you order this?”

“I love you, but I would never order you something this nice.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes as you sit down to marvel at the modern machinery. At least Jimin is honest.

“Maybe I’ll call Yoongi and ask him where it came from,” you wonder aloud, hand hovering over your phone.

“YOONGI?” Jimin screeches, eyes suddenly wide and crazed.

“Yeah? The IT guy?”

“I know who Yoongi is, you dumbass! Here, let me call him! I’m your assistant!”

He scrambles to grab the phone out of your hand.

“You literally refuse to do anything I ask.”

Jimin smiles cherubically, completely ignoring your confusion. He’s suddenly the picture of a model employee.

“Don’t you worry! I’ll be right on it!”

He hops from your desk with your cell phone gripped tight, and saunters away to a secluded area out of your eyesight.

“What the fuck is going on today?” You ask out loud, settling into your chair and unloading your bag of files.

“How's the new computer?”

The sudden intruder makes you jump, nearly spilling your coffee, yet again.

“Fuck!” You shriek as you attempt to right yourself and the dangerously hot liquid sloshing in the paper cup. “You scared me!”

The chuckle that comes from behind you makes your stomach flip. You know that laugh. You could recognize that laugh a hundred miles away, in a hurricane, with headphones on.

That laugh is the sultry demon himself, Kim Namjoon.

“I—How did you know about my computer?”

Namjoon takes a knee, bringing his face to your level in your chair. He’s close to you, so dangerously close. You can smell the Giorgio Armani cologne applied to his pressure points—the heat of his skin warming the scent and mingling with his own subtleties. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head. He smells so comforting—like a home you never knew you were missing until he arrived.

“I saw it when I walked in this morning.”

He breaks you from your daydreaming of warm, firm hands caressing your body and you’re thrown headfirst back into reality—the reality where you can’t stand the man mere inches from you.

You push back from where you are and stand, eager to get away from Namjoon’s sudden interest in close proximity. He smirks and rises from his spot, pocketing his hands in his tight cream suit.

“Care to join me in my office for some coffee?” He asks.

His office. The one he scored after he won the Kim Taehyung case. The bitter betrayal still lingers in your mouth.

For the longest time, you had been equal in every sense; both living in the dingy cubicles with the computers long-destined for retirement. Then, Seokjin awarded him with the corner office, the one with the view of the entire city. You’d never forgiven either of them.

“I have my own coffee.”

Namjoon smirks as he eyes your paper cup, clearly a quick grab from the 7-Eleven around the corner.

“Looks fancy.”

You purse your lips and clutch your coffee even closer.

“Please,” he asks again. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

Namjoon’s face loses its snark, and you’re curious about what could cause the man to become so serious.

“Fine.”

You motion with your arm towards his office, encouraging him to walk ahead. He smirks again, ah—there’s that smirk, before he turns and heads into the gorgeous corner room.

He lingers by the door as you enter, waiting until you’ve crossed the threshold to close the door behind you. It surprises you. Something about being in a closed room with Namjoon sets you on edge. You can nearly imagine the man bending you over that fine oak desk, hiking your skirt up and spanking your ass until it’s red.

“Coffee?” He asks as he moves towards the in-office espresso machine.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You have a Nespresso in your office?”

All desperate and wanton thoughts of Namjoon sliding into you leave once you see the stainless steel contraption in the room's corner. Of course he has a $500 coffee machine in his office. He has everything you want.

“You like it?” His question is cocky. He already knows the answer.

“Fuck off.”

Namjoon grins and turns the machine on, pulling out two mugs while you sip your now lukewarm coffee. It suddenly tastes disgusting.

“So, what’s the deal, Namjoon?” You ask as he rests against the wall and waits for the coffee to brew. “You said it was important.”

Namjoon nods, a more reserved look taking the place of his usual cocky grin on his face. His gaze turns down to his shiny dress shoes.

“I need a favor.”

“No.” Your answer is quick.

Namjoon looks up at you in surprise.

“You haven’t even heard it yet!”

“Yeah, well…,” you huff. “I’m not interested in helping you.”

Namjoon leaves his post by his elaborate coffee maker, forgetting about the piping-hot liquid drizzling into white mugs, as he stands in front of you. There’s that fucking cologne again. Why does he have to smell so good?

“You’ve got to help me. Please.”

His sudden closeness to you sets your brain off—your steely resolve begins to crumble.

“Fine, I’ll bite. What is it?”

His face lights up again. God, he has such a handsome mouth.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend for my family Christmas party.”

If you hadn’t had such a good grip on the convenience store cup of coffee, it’d surely drop from your clutch and splatter on the expensive carpet of Namjoon’s office.

Your eyes widen, and your mouth falls agape.

“You—You what?!”

Namjoon sighs and lowers his voice.

“Look, I…” he struggles. “I told my mom I have a girlfriend, so she’d get off my back about it.”

“And why am I suddenly your best option for that?!”

You step away from the man, determined to clear your mind as the scenario weaves its way through your head.

Namjoon’s girlfriend. He wants you to be his girlfriend.

Well, his fake girlfriend.

He would hold your hand. He would kiss you. He would touch your body in ways you convince yourself you don’t think of often.

“You’re the only girl I know who’s got a good enough poker face to go along with it. And honestly… you’re the only girl I really know well enough.”

His last admission shocks you. Namjoon seems like the womanizing type—one to bring a different girl home every night.

“That doesn’t explain why the fuck I would want to help you.”

Namjoon steps back and moves towards the coffee machine again.

“If you help me, I’ll take all your shitty cases that Jin is giving you.”

Your eyes narrow at the tall man. It seems too good to be true.

“How d'you know about them?”

Namjoon shrugs and grabs a mug full of freshly brewed expensive coffee.

“I can hear you complain to Jimin about it every day.”

You grumble under your breath, sucking on your teeth as you try to process the terms of Namjoon’s deal.

“So you want me to be your fake girlfriend for your family…” you muse.

“Yes,” he agrees. “And I’ll do all your worst cases for the next 2 months. I’ll even give you my next big one. I know you want that.”

God, he’s right. That’s all you want. A chance to prove yourself to Seokjin, to the company.

With an aggravated sigh, you relent.

“Fine! But it better be a good fucking case. And, I’m using your coffee maker every morning.”

Namjoon can’t help but chuckle, loving the fire in your voice.

“Deal?” He murmurs.

He holds out his hand to shake on it, and it takes you by surprise how warm and soft his large hands are once you slide your own into his grip.

“Deal.”

Jimin is not going to let you live this one down.

Jimin doesn’t let you live it down.

He’s sitting on your couch, legs crossed underneath him as he hoists his wine glass filled to the brim. He holds it away from his body as he shakes with laughter.

“You’re telling me,” he wheezes. “That you agreed to be Namjoon’s fake Christmas girlfriend? You hate that man!”

Flopping into the couch beside him, you sigh.

“Yeah, well, it was my only option. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“Okay, Godfather,” Jimin snickers. “Lord knows you still want to bone that man, anyway.”

“Jimin!” You admonish. “I do not! And that wasn’t the deal!”

He sips at his red wine with an impish smile. You hate it when Jimin looks at you like that, like he can see behind the lie you’ve so carefully crafted of your hatred for Namjoon.

“Then tell me, what was the deal?”

You fiddle with the stem of your own wine glass, sighing.

“He’s offered to take all our shitty personal injury suits for the next two months. And he’s giving me his next big case.”

Jimin actually looks surprised—as if he didn’t expect Namjoon to provide a deal so worth the cost.

“Wow,” he breathes.

You nod in reply, taking a large gulp of the pinot grigio in your glass.

“You’re still going to fuck him though, I know it,” Jimin adds.

You splutter your wine from your mouth, hand reaching over to gently slap Jimin on his taut abdomen.

“Shut up!” You cry.

Jimin looks proud of himself, sipping his red wine gleefully while he settles further into your couch. Wine nights with Jimin is the highlight of your weeks. Together, you bitch over cases, coworkers, dating struggles, and eat too much cheese and cured meats and nurse a hangover the following day with brunch.

“Hey,” you say to Jimin as you set your wine down on the coffee table. “Did you ever talk to Yoongi?”

Jimin’s cheeks immediately turn a shade of rouge.

“Yoongi? Yoongi who?”

“Oh my god,” you groan. “Yoongi from IT. You stole my phone to call him today? To ask about my new computer?”

Jimin swallows a large swig of his wine.

“Oh. Yes, I did.”

“And?” You encourage the blonde to answer further.

“And he’s doing well,” Jimin replies demurely.

“Jimin!” You huff. “The computer?!”

Jimin makes an ‘O’ shape with his mouth and bites his lip.

“I… might have forgotten to ask.”

Your mouth drops open.

“You literally stole my phone out of my hands to call him! What did you talk about?!”

There’s his blush again. The shade of pink on Jimin’s cheeks would be adorable if you weren’t so flabbergasted by his answers.

“I have a date tomorrow night.” He takes another sip as you let the reply sink in.

“Oh. My. God.” You gasp, a smile now overtaking your features. “You have a crush on Min Yoongi!”

Jimin sets his wine glass down next to yours and turns to you.

“I had no idea if he was into me! But when I called, I totally forgot why I was calling him and we sort of just… started talking and next thing I know, he’s asking me out to dinner tomorrow night.”

You playfully slap at Jimin’s thigh.

“You little slut—using my phone to get yourself a date. On company time!”

Jimin sticks his tongue out at you, before grabbing a pillow and slapping you with the overstuffed cushion.

“At least I didn’t agree to be his fake girlfriend!”

It’s the sound of your phone ringing at 7:32 am that wakes you from your spot on the couch, wine glass still clutched in your hand.

“What the fuck?” You grumble, eyes blearily seeking the offending object disturbing your sleep.

Jimin grumbles next to you, kicking at your foot as if it will stop the phone from ringing.

“Stop,” he whines and cuddles into his fetal position. “Turn it ooooff.”

You locate your cell phone and groan as you recognize the name on the caller ID. Namjoon. What the fuck could he possibly be calling for? And why did he have to call at seven in the goddamn morning?

“What do you want?” You snap as you hold the phone to your cheek and throw yourself back onto the couch.

“Well, good morning to you, sunshine.”

Namjoon’s voice, as sexy and sultry as it sounds, still aggravates you.

“Why are you calling me? It’s Saturday. Its seven am.”

Namjoon chuckles and you fight the shiver that works through your spine at the sound.

“I tend to keep human hours on the weekend.”

You can’t hold back the sarcastic guffaw that escapes you.

“Okay, Mr. Perfect,” you sigh. “That doesn’t explain calling me.”

Jimin kicks at your foot again.

“Stop talking,” he grumbles.

God, Jimin is such a diva when he’s hungover.

“Meet me at the cafe on First Street,” Namjoon says casually. “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

“Right now?!” You ask, incredulous.

“I’m literally already here. Hurry before your coffee gets cold.”

You let out a whine that could rival a 5-year-old’s temper tantrum.

“Fuck you. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

There’s no care about your phone when you end the call and throw it to the floor. Jimin grumbles and rubs at his eyes.

“Why the fuck are you having phone sex with Namjoon so early in the morning?” He asks.

“Jimin, I swear to God.”

He wraps himself in the throw blanket and buries his face back into the couch while you stand and retreat to your bedroom to throw on some semblance of appropriate clothing for the occasion.

“Fucking Namjoon,” you grumble under your breath as you change into jeans and a sweater. “Fuck him and his stupid, sexy face. And his unbelievable ass. And his stupid, probably enormous penis. Man, I hate him.”

As you’re re-entering the living room and grabbing your important items (keys, wallet, lip gloss just in-case), Jimin pops his head out of his blanket cave.

“Where are you going?” He asks, suddenly less annoyed and more pathetic. “You’re leaving me?”

“I have to go meet Namjoon for coffee. I don’t know why, so don’t ask.”

“You’re really going to let me suffer here? Alone? With no coffee?”

You spin around to face your best friend, who’s giving you an absolutely soul-crushing pout and puppy eyes.

“Yes. Call Yoongi.”

His precious pout is wiped away, and a devious smirk takes its place.

“Great idea!” He says as he digs around for his phone. “Be careful out there! It’s icy! Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall on Namjoon’s dick.”

Your only reply is one singular middle finger in Jimin’s direction as you exit your apartment.

Namjoon can’t help but smile as he sips his warm coffee. The cafe is warm and bright, despite the chill outside.

Things feel peaceful. Tender flakes of snow trickle down outside and frost up the shop’s window. There’s something about this time of year that strikes him down to the core. Something cozy, something warm.

It’s odd to think this will be his first year not celebrating the holiday alone.

Even if it is... well, fake.

The bell over the door chimes an arrival, and Namjoon can tell by the grumbles and grunts and stomps of snowy boots that it’s you.

“Over here!” He calls, raising a hand and turning to face you.

Wow, he thinks. You look gorgeous, even without trying.

You hurry your way over to the booth and plop yourself on the opposite side, immediately lunging for the obvious mug of coffee waiting for you on the table. You don’t waste a minute gulping the liquid down your throat, then spluttering when you realize it’s still hot.

“I thought you said it was getting cold!” You cry, airing out your burnt tongue. Namjoon can’t help but imagine that tongue sliding up and down his cock.

Not now. Wrong time and place to get a boner.

Namjoon smiles as he sips his cappuccino.

“I got you a fresh one.”

You make a face, but your features soften. As if you’re pleased with the idea that Namjoon cared to freshen up your cup.

“Oh, well--”, you manage. “Thank you.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply, but merely tips his head. The silence is thick enough to cut with a knife. Normally, you’re both normally so wound up in aggravating the other that a moment of calm is strange, but not unwelcome.

“So, why the early morning wake up?” You finally ask, fiddling with the handle of the mug.

Namjoon settles his cup down.

“We need to get to know each other. Deep shit, you know. The shit that lovers would know about each other.”

He notices you, watches as you nibble at your lip. You try hard to hide it behind the mug you lift to your lips, but Namjoon notices.

“I’m hoping maybe we could spend the day together,” he adds. “I need to get some Christmas gifts for my family and… well, it’s rather lonely doing it on my own.”

There’s a slight smile at the ends of your lips.

“And you needed me at seven thirty in the morning to do that?”

He stifles a laugh.

“Like I said, I operate at regular human hours. Even on weekends,” he replies.

With a dramatic sigh, you agree.

“Fine,” you say. “I’m an open book. Ask me anything.”

He watches as you settle into the seat of the booth, hands gripping the warm mug like it’s a personal heater. He notices you’re only wearing jeans and a sweater--no properly warm clothing for the snow storm ahead. He’ll have to fix that, and soon.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” He asks.

You level a look.

“Spending it pretending to be in love with you.”

Namjoon can’t help but snort a laugh.

“I meant after that.”

You shrug as you settle back into the seat.

“I don’t like Christmas. I don’t do much other than force Jimin to kiss me under the mistletoe and watch shitty movies with a gallon of boxed wine.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “You’re sort of a Grinch.”

A scowl comes over your face.

“I am not! I just don’t buy into this whole ‘prove how much you love me by buying me things’ shit. It’s a big scheme, I tell you! Capitalist propaganda! They encourage you to spend all your money, and if you don’t, they shame and guilt you by telling you you don’t love your family enough.”

Namjoon can’t help but laugh as you rant. It’s what makes you such a talented lawyer—your ability to feel a passion so deep within you you’re able to convince a stone-faced jury of your side.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You cry. “I’m serious! My family doesn’t celebrate, I don’t celebrate. I’d rather just buy gifts for my loved ones when I see something they’d like. Why do we have to put a time of year on it?”

He shrugs and scooches his mug around the carbonate table.

“I suppose that makes sense,” he muses. “But you’re still a Grinch. And a Scrooge. You’ll definitely get visited by some Ghosts at midnight.”

“Ha ha,” you snark sarcastically. “Hilarious, Namjoon. Don’t tell me you’re a big festive guy.”

“Somewhat. It’s my Mom’s favorite holiday. It’s why she’s so bent out of shape about me having a girlfriend. Something about family and love and shit.”

You nod, understanding him completely. Your own mother, despite her reservations towards the holiday, still makes a fuss over your single status. There must be some Mom code to obsess over your children’s woeful dating life.

“Well, I say let’s get on with it then. Ready to hit the shops?” He asks.

You’re mid-sip of your finally cooled coffee and you send a desperate look to the man in front of you.

“Already?!”

“We’re burning daylight, baby.”

Namjoon stands and you can’t help but feel a roar of flames in your belly at the pet-name. Your cheeks are surely flaming up and you admonish yourself for getting so peaked about such a trivial name.

“Please don’t tell me we’re walking,” you murmur as you sneak a peek outside.

The snow is falling down harder now, and you’re dreadfully underdressed for the weather.

Namjoon tsks at your lack of outerwear, but then shakes his head.

“No, we’ll take my Range Rover.”

You roll your eyes and grimace.

“Of course. You have a fucking Nespresso machine and a Range Rover. Asshole.”

Namjoon doesn’t even think about it as he grabs your hand and laces his fingers in between yours. If anyone asked, he’d say it’s practice—to familiarize himself with the way your fingers slot between his own so it’s not such a foreign concept when he does it in front of his family.

“Yeah, but I’m your asshole now, princess.”

Christmas shopping with Namjoon is mostly painless.

Normally, you dread the lines and the crowds and the confusion and the expense.

But with Namjoon, you relax and banter away with the tall lawyer. You’re completely at ease as you walk through crowded aisles and sort through racks of cashmere sweaters and stacks of fuzzy blankets.

“Mom will love this, don’t you think?” Namjoon asks, holding up a thick, exquisite looking blanket.

You’re about to answer with an affirmative when you catch yourself. You don’t even know his mom. You’ve never met the woman. Why does it feel as if Namjoon is someone you’ve known your entire life?

Why do things feel so easy with him?

“Sure, Namjoon,” you reply. “Seems like something most mother’s would be into.”

He smiles at you. It’s a genuine smile too, one that nearly knocks you on your ass. Your body is sent into overdrive constantly. He holds your hand, he places his hand at the small of your back to guide you through a thick crowd. He calls you baby and princess and doll.

It’s confusing.

It’s amazing.

You can’t tell if you love it or hate it.

Namjoon pushes the shopping cart and walks beside you, chatting easily about his various aunts and uncles names that you likely must remember at some point but you just can’t think about anything but Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon.

You hate him. He stole that corner office from you. He’s going to take the promotion you want from right under your nose. He has a goddamn Nespresso in his office and a Range Rover.

And yet, you can’t help but fall in place next to him and listen to him tell stories of his childhood, weaving tales of uncles who snuck him his first sips of alcohol and aunts who spoil him rotten. He’s easy to listen to, a natural story-teller. Your body feels warm, as if you’re sitting on a large hearth by a roaring fire. He’s comforting.

It’s infuriating and wonderful all at once.

“And that’s when my cousin Jungkook got caught smoking cigarettes. My grandma beat our ass so bad I couldn’t sit for a day.”

Namjoon finishes his story and turns to look at you. You’ve been staring at the man for nearly a minute straight now.

“Hey,” his voice is soft. “You listening?”

You shake out of the trance Namjoon’s deep voice sends you into.

“Yeah!” You reply with a smirk. “Sounds like this Jungkook is a guy I’d like to meet.”

Namjoon sucks his teeth and nudges you.

“Hey, you’re my girlfriend, remember.”

You stick your tongue out at him playfully.

“Fake girlfriend. I’m still a single, desirable lady at the end of the day.”

Namjoon hesitates before answering. He wants to reply something snarky, something sarcastic and witty. But he takes a moment to pause, allows himself to fully immerse himself in you. Even hungover, in yesterday’s jeans and an old sweater, you’re still an absolute catch. You’re the definition of desirable and Namjoon can’t help but allow himself to desire.

“Hmm, is that what you call it?” He asks, now allowing the sarcasm to permeate his words. “I was thinking you’re more of the spinster, cat-lady type.”

“Hey!” You pout as you slap at his arm. “I’m allergic to cats!”

“But you don’t deny being a spinster.”

“Fuck you, Namjoon.”

He grins and pushes the carts towards the candle aisle, a sure-fire gift for his aunties.

“In due time, my love.”

By the time Christmas Eve arrives, you’ve spent nearly every day with Namjoon. At work, he brings you fresh coffee from his Nespresso and buys you lunch. You’ve even landed his big case, an incredibly complex lawsuit that will showcase your skills. Namjoon gives you pointers and space to talk through the case with him.

Namjoon is, in fact, simply being kind. And it unsettles you.

Your heart and brain are at war with each other constantly. You should hate him, loathe him. He’s going to nail that promotion regardless of what you prove to Seokjin.

But your heart tells you he deserves it. He’s an incredible attorney and has earned every ounce of respect. You want Namjoon to get that promotion just to see that smile on his face. He’d do incredible things as Seokjin’s protege to take over the firm.

You hate to admit it, but Namjoon has melted the ice around your heart. And you’re dreading the day after all this is over, because it will be the day Namjoon stops holding you close and pressing soft kisses to your temple. It will be the day he stops pretending this is all real.

It’s Christmas Eve and you’re sitting in Namjoon’s expensive Range Rover, plush leather seat toasty from the built-in seat warmer. You can’t help but marvel at the way the oncoming headlights brighten up Namjoon’s features as he drives you down a snowy mountain lane. They always hold the Kim family holiday party at Namjoon’s late grandfather’s cabin in the mountains, a quiet getaway for the family to gather and spend the night together to wake up on Christmas morning and gather around for presents and food.

Which means waking up to Kim Namjoon.

It’s something you’ve dreamt of often, but denied yourself any actual possibility of it. Namjoon was always out of reach, and it was easier to hate him for his success he rightfully deserved than it was to admit the feelings that were always inside.

And now, although it’s artificial, you can’t bear to think of not spending your time with Namjoon anymore.

You steal a glance again at him, and smile as you hear his faint humming. He loves Christmas music. You learned that early in the week during another early morning coffee and ‘get to know you’ before work. Namjoon couldn’t stop singing Mariah Carey’s classic pop song under his breath as it played over the speakers in the cafe.

“It’s so pretty up here,” you muse as you force your vision away from Namjoon’s gorgeous face to the snowy scenery outside.

The snow is falling gently, not enough to cause a blizzard but enough to make it seem like you’re trapped in a picturesque snow-globe. Leaving the city and entering the magical forest stirs an emotion inside you you hadn’t felt in some time.

It’s Christmas Eve and there’s just something magical.

Ugh. Unbelievable.

Namjoon has even made you actually enjoy Christmas.

He nods. “Yeah, it’s my favorite place in the world, I think.”

“I can see why,” you sigh. “It looks like a painting.”

Namjoon glances over at you peering through the window. His heart hammers in his chest hard as your glittering eyes bounce around from tree to tree, a pretty smile on your face. The diamond ring in his pocket feels like it weighs a literal ton and he nibbles at his lip.

He bought it for the showmanship of it all, initially. It was his first purchase he made when he set up this whole rouse.

But now, it feels real. It feels like he’s really about to get on one knee and ask you, the girl he’s absolutely head over heels for, to marry him.

And then it will be over.

He’ll make up some story to tell his mom about how it didn’t work out and you’ll go back to being his coworker, and nothing more.

Namjoon can’t fight the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Nothing more.

He pulls into the driveway before you even have time to realize you’re there. He puts the car in park and smiles over at you.

He looks so cute in his puffy winter coat, hair pushed to the side and a smile that’s all dimples and cheeks.

Fuck.

“We’re here,” he whispers. “You ready?”

Suddenly, the nerves of meeting your fake boyfriend’s entire family slap you right in the face. You hope that you’re a good enough actress to get Namjoon through the night and into the morning.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He nods and squeezes your hand, an unspoken comforting ‘I got you’.

Namjoon gathers his wrapped gifts and stacks them all in his arms, ignoring your pleas and giggles to help carry them in.

“No, no,” he assures. “I have to make sure my mom sees me being manly and helpful.”

As if on cue, the front door opens and Mrs. Kim is bursting out into the snowy night.

“Namjoon!” She shrieks, completely overjoyed. The rest of the family is standing by the door, eyeing you carefully with smiles and whispers. You pray to whatever Christmas God that’s listening that you can do this.

Namjoon sets the pile of gifts down just in time to wrap his delicate and tiny mother in his arms, hugging her tightly while she gleefully buries her face into her tall son’s chest.

“Oh, my son, I’ve missed you.”

Namjoon kisses the crown of her head and smiles.

“Missed you too, eomma.”

The scene has you misty-eyed and you swipe at your eyes to stop the tears. There’s no way you’re ruining the fantastic makeup you did for the occasion, but the reunion of Namjoon and his mother is heart-warming. He clearly cares for his mother more than he would outwardly admit.

Namjoon and his mother unwrap from each other and Namjoon turns towards you.

“Everyone, this is ____,” he breathes. “My girlfriend.”

His mother’s gleeful squeals now turn to you, and within an instant she’s gathering you up in just as tight of a hug as she did to her son.

“Oh, darling, we are so happy to meet you,” she beams.

The excitement in her voice makes you feel bad—like you’re conning an old woman out of her retirement. You’re instilling a sense of hope in the kind woman, and you can’t help but send Namjoon a look as you wrap your arms around her and return the embrace. His eyes sparkle with something you can’t read.

“I’m happy to meet you too,” you smile as you pull apart. “Thank you for letting me come.”

“No thanks necessary,” she admonishes with a wink. “We had to beg Namjoon to bring you. It seems he wants to keep you all to himself.”

“Eomma!” Namjoon snaps. “Be appropriate!”

She nudges you with her elbow knowingly, which makes your cheeks flame hot, before she leads the way back into the house.

“Come in, come in! Let’s get out of this snow.”

Namjoon encourages you to step inside with a gentle hand at the small of your back—a touch that makes your body light up brighter than a Christmas tree.

“Thank you,” he whispers in your ear from behind. You can feel the warmth of his lips and your body reacts.

How is it that any simple act makes you desperately horny for the man? You pray for some respite from your sexual frustration over the next day. How are you going to last over 24 hours?

Namjoon deposits his massive haul of gifts under the tree and returns to your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to bring you close. He introduces you to uncles and aunts and cousins. He even introduces you to his infamous cousin, Jungkook, who smirks at you in a way that makes Namjoon pull you in closer to his body.

“Are you doing okay?” Namjoon finally asks after the rush of relatives greeting you dies down. He turns you towards him, to face him directly with his hands on either of your shoulders. “You’re killing it.”

You can’t help but smile. Namjoon’s family is all incredibly kind and funny. They welcome you into the family with ease and it chips away a little more each time at your heart.

Because this is all fake.

One day, Namjoon really will have a girlfriend to bring to Christmas and to show off to his relatives and it won’t be you. You’ll be back at your apartment, watching shitty TV re-runs and binging on Chinese takeout, as you do every year. It’s a jab at your heart each time the bitter truth rears its ugly head.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m great.”

“Look!” Jungkook shouts. “They’re standing under the mistletoe!”

Namjoon blushes a shade of red that likely matches a blush on your own cheeks. Sure enough, the green branches of the mistletoe taunt you from above.

You’ve never kissed Namjoon before. In all the skinship and closeness of the last week, you’ve still yet to close the gap to kissing the man.

“Oh, come on Kook, that’s a stupid tradition,” Namjoon murmurs awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Jungkook smirks as he steps up next to you.

“Well, if you’re not going to do it, I’d be more than happy to take your place.”

Jungkook wraps a loose arm around you and gives you a charming smile. He must be very popular with the ladies, you think. That’s a charming smile.

“Hey!” Namjoon grabs for your hand and tugs you out of Jungkook’s predatory gaze. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Namjoon looks at you for a moment, assessing your comfort level with everything about to take place. His lips look so inviting, so plush and warm. Now that you’re thinking about kissing him, you can’t help but focus on the way his lips pucker so gently and naturally.

And then it happens. Namjoon lowers his face towards you and it feels as if the world is in slow-motion. It’s happening.

The first press of his lips is soft and conservative. You take a split second to register, but instinctively you press against his lips with determination and wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

He groans softly as you trail your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opens for you without hesitation. His hands grip at your waist and bring your body flush against his. You can feel his cock twitching and rising from the kiss that’s gone from innocent and playful to passionate and deep. It feels like the world around you has stopped and the only thing that matters is Namjoon, his mouth, his body against your own. He tastes like hot chocolate and peppermint, and you want more, more.

“Oh my god, stop,” Jungkook’s voice shatters your illusion of being all alone with Namjoon. “Now you’re just showing off.”

Namjoon pulls away from you, eyes dazed as he tries to right himself.

“You two are just so perfect for each other,” Namjoon’s mother says, who’s suddenly appeared in Jungkook’s place. “Let me show you your bedroom.”

“Oh, we’re sharing?” You ask without thought. It’s a large house, with ample bedrooms surely for you to have your own space.

Namjoon nudges you in the ribs gently, eyes widening and mouthing a ‘what the fuck do you mean?’

“Of course dear, don’t be silly,” his mother replies with an eyebrow waggle and a chuckle. “I remember when your father and I were dating. He would sneak into my room after my parents went to bed and keep me up all night long. Your grandfather would ask me if I had terrible dreams that night, because I looked so tired.”

Namjoon makes a face. “Eomma, please,” he begs. “Please don’t talk about my parents like that.”

As his mother guides you down a long hallway, your mind is whirring with too many thoughts of Namjoon, of sharing a bedroom with Namjoon, of seeing his sleeping face and waking up next to him. It’s all too much, too overwhelming. You pray there’s a couch in the room you could sleep on, because you’re far too weak and you’d rather fight the desperation in your body than face the fact that you want nothing more than to curl right into Namjoon’s strong arms and let him hold you all night to sleep.

Fuck.

“Here we are!”

His mother opens the door with grace, and flicks on the light. The room is beautiful in its simplicity. A king sized bed, a fireplace, and a balcony with a view of the sprawling snowy scene outside. It’s cozy and warm and decorated with its own Christmas tree.

“Wow,” is all you can muster.

“Aish, Mom,” Namjoon sighs as he drops his bags. “You didn’t need to do all of this for us.”

Mrs. Kim holds his hand in both of hers. “Well, I know how special this Christmas is going to be,” she winks. “I want you to enjoy your time here. Now, I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. Dinner is in an hour, so ‘freshen up’!”

Another wink, and Namjoon makes another face. She definitely wants grandchildren, that much is for certain.

She closes the door behind her and you’re left standing in the room, overnight bag in hand.

“This is—Wow, this is amazing.”

You’ve never experienced Christmas like this—with decorations and warmth and family. It’s as if the love of the Kim family permeates the very walls of the expansive cabin, like it’s built into the foundation itself. For a moment, you allow yourself to soak it all in. This is all yours. It’s your Christmas and you finally understand why so many make such a fuss over it. The results are nothing short of remarkable.

“Yeah, she really does the most,” Namjoon laughs.

He takes the bag from your hand without your notice and you step towards the balcony to peer into the night. The landscape looks as if everything has been covered in soft marshmallow. The snow is untouched—picture perfect.

“I’ve never had anything like this before.”

Namjoon settles your bag and his on the bed, watching as you soak in your own wonder. The smile on your face is not one he sees often, one of pure joy. Namjoon swallows hard as he realizes he wants to be the one to always put that smile on your face.

“Not such a Scrooge after all, eh?”

You turn from the still-life view outside and back to Namjoon, where he stands at the foot of the bed. He looks so different outside the office. He’s wearing skinny jeans and a flannel shirt, his puffy jacket hanging by the door. No cream suit, no slicked back hair or shoes shiny enough to see your reflection. Just simply Namjoon.

He’s no longer the man who steals the limelight in the office. He’s no longer the man you see as your adversary or your rival.

He’s the man who’s showing you the magic of Christmas, the spirit of love and kindness that embodies the season.

He’s the man you’ve fallen in love with.

And yet, he’s the man who will leave once this is over and return to his proper life, and you to yours. He’ll return to sleeping with models and movie starlets, and you’ll return to binge watching Great British Bake-Off with Jimin and a carton of Chicken Tikka Masala.

And Christmas will never feel as special as it does now.

So, you’re determined to soak in it for a little longer. It’s going to hurt regardless, so why not push that hurt off until tomorrow and allow yourself to pretend you live the lie you’re spinning for Namjoon’s family?

“I think I’ll just freshen up and change into my dinner outfit, then?” You ask out loud, grabbing for your overnight bag and heading towards the ensuite.

Namjoon, who expected a witty retort, takes a moment to reply.

“Oh,” he coughs. “Yeah, sure. I’ll err—, I’ll just get ready out here.”

You quickly escape into the bathroom, closing the door and resting on it as you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

The tension in the bedroom with Namjoon was too thick, too powerful, especially after the kiss you just shared. His cock had been there, straining in his jeans as you licked into his mouth. The kiss felt so natural, as if you had always kissed Namjoon like that. Your heart beats loud and hard in your chest just from the thought of it.

You really needed to get a handle over yourself. You still have dinner to get through, and an entire night in a bedroom with Namjoon. A bed with Namjoon.

No, you won’t allow yourself to go that far. You can pretend you’re his girlfriend, but all thoughts of his delectable body doing scintillating things to yours is strictly off-limits. You shake all thoughts of a thick, heavy cock sliding into your mouth and warm hands spreading you open, and set about fixing your makeup and changing into the gorgeous cocktail dress you purchased for the occasion. It wasn’t often you got to get dressed up. The emerald green velvet dress clings to your body and highlights your curves. It’s a sexy dress, definitely, but also appropriate for a formal evening with your boyfriend’s parents.

Well, your fake boyfriend. Right.

After fixing your hair and buckling your heels, you take one last glimpse in the mirror for good luck and exit the room.

Your breath is nearly knocked out of your lungs as you see Namjoon.

You’ve seen him dressed up for court and for TV appearances millions of times, but you’ve never seen him like this.

He wears a blood red button up without a tie, a few buttons open to emphasize the casual look, tucked into the tightest and sexiest slacks you’ve ever seen. They hug his thighs and sit at a spot on his waist that you just know is rippling with cut lines from his work in the gym. His hair is tucked back with a bit of hairspray, and he’s fixing the sleeves of his shirt when he sees you.

His eyes widen and his hands fall to his sides as he soaks in your appearance.

An absolute vision.

He can see the gentle valley between your breasts and the way your dress pushes up your cleavage and displays your collar. The dress follows the delicate curve of your waist and hips and ends at your knee, but teases him with a glimpse of thigh that has him wiping his mouth in case he’s drooling.

“You look incredible,” Namjoon murmurs as you step closer.

“So do you.”

You swallow hard as he continues closer to you, breathing harshly as he stands right in front of you. You could reach out and unbuckle his expensive slacks and fist his cock right there. You’d fall on your knees for him, if he asked.

There’s a moment of silence as Namjoon’s face inches closer and closer to your own, each unable to verbalize just how desperate either of you feel for the other.

“Namjoon, I—,” you start. You want to tell him. You want to tell him everything—that you don’t want this to be fake, that you want this to be real, and you want to be his and his forever.

“Yes?”

You swallow hard, shaken by just how close his lips are to yours. He’s inches away and all you can focus on is the way his plush lips look and how well they fit against your own under the mistletoe.

“I just—, I really um, I’m just very…”

You’re not making sense. Comprehension of language is quickly soaring out the window because the only words you know are ‘Please, for the love of God, kiss me and make me yours’, but you can’t bring yourself to speak them out loud.

Namjoon’s hand cups your cheek, as if he can tell what you’re trying to say.

“Yeah,” he breathes. The inches between you turn to centimeters, to bare millimeters. Your eyes flutter close as you feel his breath dance over your lips and your heart beats so loud you’re sure the entire household can hear it. He’s right there and moves in to close the distance—

“Knock Knock!!”

The forceful, cheery voice of cousin Jungkook forces both of you to jump away from each other as if you’ve touched a burning stove. Your head feels light, like you’ve forgotten to breathe for the last ten minutes and you’ve suddenly taken in too much air.

The wooden door squeaks open and Jungkook pokes his head in, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Auntie sent me to get you. It’s dinnertime!”

Namjoon rubs his face frustratedly. “Yes, thank you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook doesn’t leave, however. He smiles at you and winks.

“Would you like an escort to dinner, madame? You look tastier than the roast beef downstairs.”

A blush creeps over your cheeks as Namjoon storms to the door where his cousin laughs.

“That’s enough, Kook. We’ll be down in a minute.”

He sends you one more grin, then retreats from the door and closes it behind him.

“Sorry about that,” Namjoon apologizes. You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for—Jungkook, or the moment before.

“It’s alright. Let’s go?”

Namjoon nods and holds out his hand with a smile.

“Let’s go, girlfriend.”

Dinner with the Kim family is as delightful as every other interaction with them has been. They’re polite and funny and ask questions about your life and your family.

They ask how you met Namjoon (at work), what your favorite quality about him is (his smile and his ass), and what your first date together was (coffee at seven in the morning).

You tell stories of Namjoon in the office, of your best friend Park Jimin who’s secretly trying to date the IT manager, of your parents and Christmases past.

By the time dessert is served, Namjoon’s mother looks at you as if you’ve put the very stars in the sky.

Namjoon doesn’t miss that look either. He can see the way his family is falling in love with you and somewhere deep in his stomach, he feels the guilt rising. All of this is a lie. Not only is he going to break his own heart, but every heart of his family member’s too.

“We’re all just so overjoyed that Namjoon has found someone to share his life with,” his mom speaks softly. It’s the first time she’s been thoughtful and quiet. She’s a woman who’s larger than life, you’ve found, so the softness in her tone strikes a chord. “You’re absolutely perfect for him. I’ve never seen him happier.”

Fuck.

“Thank you,” you murmur sincerely to his mother. “I’ve never been happier.”

Namjoon peers up from where he’s been pushing around his uncle’s famous chocolate cake on his plate to watch as you speak.

“Truthfully, I never cared much for Christmas. I thought it was a rubbish holiday and spent it alone every year with a bottle of wine and some takeout. Namjoon really changed that for me,” you smile at the man and place your hand in his lap to hold his free hand. “He showed me more about Christmas in one week than I’ve felt in my entire life.”

Namjoon’s mom wipes away an errant tear and he squeezes your hand under the table.

“I guess the Grinch’s heart has grown 3 sizes, after all.”

Namjoon’s joke lightens the soft mood, and suddenly there’s chatter around as the family members move about to wash dishes and clean up the mess of dinner. Everyone leaves the table except for you and Namjoon.

“That was some good acting,” he whispers with a sad smile.

“Right,” you whisper back, nibbling your lip anxiously. “Acting, of course.”

You should have thought through the bedroom sharing thing more.

Because sharing a bedroom is one thing.

And sharing a bed is another.

And of course, the only pajamas you thought to bring tonight is a very sexy long shirt that says “no coffee, no talking” with a bedazzled pair of shushing lips. That’s it. Just a single shirt. Not even a pair of shorts or pajama pants.

You slip into the bed first, as far onto one side of it as possible. It’s a king sized bed, and it still feels too intimate, too close.

Namjoon exits the bathroom after his shower, rubbing at his wet hair with a towel. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of flannel pajamas, leaving his bare chest on display.

Sweet lord in heaven, you nearly cry out loud. He’s absolutely ripped, pecs defined and droplets of water from his hair streaming down. You want to chase each drop with your tongue and circle back again. You shut your eyes tight and clench your teeth. Why, oh why, does he have to look so fucking sexy at a time like this?

Namjoon sees you at the edge of the bed, shutting your eyes closed like you’re a shy schoolgirl afraid to see a naked man’s body. He feels guilty for making you be here. He knows you’ve likely got better things to do than spend time with a man you openly hate.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes for nothing in particular.

You ignore it. Instead, you’re trying to think of every un-sexy thing in the world you can possibly imagine. Taxes, a bunch of bees, old people, shark attacks.

There’s absolutely nothing that can stop the image of Namjoon’s perfectly sculpted body from bursting into your mind. You’re nearly pleading with yourself to just go to sleep and contemplate how hard you’d need to hit your head to knock yourself out as fast as possible.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says as he grabs a small throw blanket from the closet and throws it to the ground by the fire.

It snaps you from your musings of how best to forget how badly you want to suck Namjoon’s cock through his pajama pants.

“What?” You sit up in the posh bed and finally make eye-contact. “Why? It’s freezing. There’s a literal snowstorm outside.” You motion to the window of the balcony. What was once a gentle snowfall is now a full-on winter storm.

“There’s a fire. I’ll be fine, I sleep hot anyway.” Namjoon’s voice is low and without energy. He almost sounds sad.

God, is being with you that hard for him? You know you’re just the artificial replacement until he has the real thing, but you’d actually hoped Namjoon had found it as comforting and warm as you had.

“Namjoon,” you sigh. “This is a king-sized bed. You don’t need to be waking up with back pain because you gallantly slept on the floor.”

To emphasize your point, you tug back the blankets on the other side, beckoning him to join.

He hesitates for a moment, as if he’s weighing the pro’s and con’s and sliding into bed next to you in his mind, then stands and pads his way on the plush carpet towards the bed and slips in.

There’s an entire football field of distance between you two in the bed, but it feels like he’s right beside you. You imagine sliding in right next to him, wrapping your arms around his taut chest and pressing soft kisses to his stomach.

You squeeze your eyes closed again. Stop it, you horny slut.

“Thank you, again.” Namjoon breaks the silence. “I really appreciate you helping me out.”

“Yeah,” you swallow hard. “Of course. What else was I going to do? Jimin’s probably sucking Yoongi’s dick right now, so I’d be watching baking shows alone.”

Namjoon laughs for a moment, then quiets.

“You know, I don’t even really want that promotion at work.”

You’re surprised by the sudden change in topic, but you turn over to face Namjoon.

“What?! Really?”

Namjoon nods and stares at the ceiling. “I don’t think I’m that good of an attorney to get it, anyway.”

His statement makes you sit up in bed again, staring at the man in disbelief.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Namjoon? You’re the best lawyer in the firm.”

Namjoon says nothing, just turns to stare at you curiously as you continue.

“You’re like… literally better than Seokjin, too. The way you handled the Taehyung case was nothing short of historical. Like, that was an impossible case, and you nailed it. That was your ‘OJ’ case, you know?”

Namjoon barks a laugh.

“My what?”

“Your OJ case!” You use your hands to emphasize the importance of what you’re saying. “Like, they’ll write about you and how impossible the odds were of winning that case. And you won it! Not even Seokjin could have won that case.”

He’s silent again, watching as you speak directly from your heart with all the fire and passion you feel about the things you care about. It’s what makes you such an incredible lawyer, too.

“Wow,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

You settle back down from your excitement, suddenly bashful at how fanatical you became.

“You’re welcome,” you murmur. “You deserve that promotion. And the office.”

Namjoon smirks.

“And the Nespresso?”

Your eyes narrow and send a glare to him he can see even with the faintest of light in the room.

“No, no one deserves the Nespresso, except for me.”

He chuckles and settles down into his pillows.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

“Goodnight, Namjoon.”

There’s a beat of silence and your eyes flutter shut easily. It’s quiet, and all you can hear is the crackle of the log in the fireplace and the wind blowing past the balcony windows as the storm outside rages.

“Oh,” Namjoon whispers again. “And, Merry Christmas.”

You can’t fight the smile that creeps onto your face.

“Merry Christmas, Joonie.”

“Happy Christmas!” A voice bellows through your bedroom at approximately seven fifteen am.

You groan, immediately grimacing and burying your face into your firm, warm pillow.

“Nooooo,” you whine, trying to hide from the offending noise.

Namjoon shakes awake, and notices Jungkook standing at the bedroom door once again.

“It’s time for presents!” He giddily explains. “And, they gave me the job of waking you two up.”

“Of course,” Namjoon yawns.

“You look a little wrapped up,” Jungkook smirks, eyeing your sleeping body. “I’ll give you two a minute. Don’t get distracted.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and watches as the door closes, before he turns his attention towards you.

Somehow, in the middle of the night, you’ve scooched yourself to his side of the bed and draped your body around his. Your face is buried in his chest and your legs are haphazardly intertwined in his own.

He bites his lip. His cock is rock solid, not just from his usual morning wood, but from the way he can feel your tits through your shirt, and from the sight of your pink panties. Namjoon wants to take them off with his teeth and bury his face in your delicious cunt, and his cock is nearly screaming at him to get on with it.

“Hey,” he whispers to you, actively ignoring the demon that is his turgid length. “Wake up.”

This causes you to cling harder to his chest, rubbing your sleepy face on him.

“What is it with you and early mornings?” You ask, blearily raising your head to peer at him judgementally.

Namjoon bites his lip, curious about your reaction to the tight embrace you’ve got on him. He doesn’t want to say anything, doesn’t want to break the spell. Frankly, he wants to push your sleep shirt up and stuff you full of his cum.

“Merry Christmas?” He offers shyly.

You take a full minute to recognize what’s happening.

You’re no longer on your edge of the bed. You’re wrapped around the man like a koala, legs strewn over him without care and clinging to him like he’s a lifeline.

“Oh!” You gasp as you jerk out of his grasp.

In your movement, your leg brushes over an obvious tent in Namjoon’s pants, making him groan softly. You shut your eyes, embarrassed at how disgustingly horny you are for the man who’s not even interested in you sexually.

“Christ, I’m so sorry,” your cheeks flame bright red and you scoot further from him.

“No, no, don’t be,” Namjoon wheezes as he tries to fix himself. “It’s fine. It’s more than fine. It’s great. It happens. Don’t worry.”

He continues to stammer out reassurances as he leaves the bed and bolts into the bathroom to fix his unruly tented pants, leaving you sitting atop the bed washed with shame.

“Fucking hell,” you whisper to yourself as you rub at your cheeks. “Get a grip of yourself.”

Inside the bathroom, it only takes Namjoon a few fisted jerks of his cock and the mental image of you beneath him, begging for him, until he’s silently cumming on an expensive towel. He bites his free hand to stifle the moans he makes as his cock pulses.

By the time he arrives back in the bedroom, you’ve changed into a hoodie and yoga leggings that accentuate your ass so delectably that Namjoon thinks about turning right back into the bathroom for a second round.

“I’m sorry!” You nearly shout when he walks into the room. “About the bed. You were warm and I was cold. That’s all.”

Nmajoon simply nods, doesn’t want to have to explain how he wishes he could wake up like that every day. Doesn’t want to describe in vivid detail how he’d wake you up with his tongue buried deep in your cunt.

“Let me grab a shirt and we’ll head out, yeah?”

Your eyes dance over the defined ridges of his body, a little crest-fallen at the idea that this might be the last time you see him shirtless, but you nod anyway.

“Yeah.”

The ring box sits in a deceptively large box beneath the tree. Namjoon wrapped it last night and hide it at the very back. His heartbeat hammers in his ears as his family passes around gifts and opens each with squeals of delight.

His mother gave him new ties for the office, ones that Namjoon prefers. She’s even gifted you with jewelry, which makes your eyes water at the sentiment.

It all begins to be too much. It’s harder and harder to hold back the tears as each of Namjoon’s family members gives you gifts. It doesn’t matter the value, not at all. The fact that they specifically set out to include you in their gift-unwrapping makes your heart snap in two.

This is all too much, it’s too real.

It’s everything you never dreamed you could have. A loving partner who lets you sit in the space of his legs and rubs your arms soothingly. A family who goes out of their way to include you in the abundance of love and company. A cabin so warm and cozy.

The tears don’t stop.

It’s at the end of the gift exchange that you finally allow yourself to breathe.

“There’s one more,” Namjoon whispers as he moves from behind you and fetches a large box from behind the tree. “It’s for you, princess.”

Curiously, and suspiciously, you eye him as he sets the enormous gift in your lap. You had done nearly all his Christmas shopping with him, and can’t remember a single thing he would have gotten for you.

“I hope it’s the Nespresso from your office,” you snark with a smile. His family members all laugh and exchange knowing looks to each other.

Namjoon doesn’t think he can breathe. He watches as you begin to carefully unwrap the large box, which reveals another box, slightly smaller. He can’t help but grin as you continue to unwrap the nesting-doll style gift until you’re down to the smallest one, the one that holds the ring box.

With one last tear of paper, your eyes widen as you recognize the velvet box.

“Oh--,” you breathe as you delicately pry open the gift.

Inside sits a dazzling and gorgeous diamond ring. It catches the light from the fire and sparkles like a firecracker.

“Oh my god,” you whimper as the tears flow again.

He’s proposing.

Namjoon settles himself onto one knee and tucks an errant piece of hair behind your ears.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I knew from day one that you were always the girl I wanted to marry,”

Namjoon’s speech sends daggers to your heart. He’s so convincing for something so counterfeit.

“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, much longer than we’ve been together. You’re who I want to come home to every night, and who I want to wake up with every morning.”

It hurts. It hurts so badly that you’re crying even harder as he continues to speak. His family must think you’re simply overcome with emotion and love that the crying doesn’t give it away, but inside you’re absolutely dying.

There’s no way you can recover from this.

Tomorrow, Namjoon will take the ring back to where he got it from and return to what he had before. He’ll leave you behind, broken and hopelessly in love with a man who faked a relationship so well that you fell for it, hard.

“____, will you marry me?”

You take several large, gulping gasps to reply. You can’t shatter the illusion. Namjoon’s parents are weeping with joy, while his relatives record the moment on their phones and wipe away errant tears. Even Jungkook looks soft, proud of his cousin for taking the next step in his life.

Oh, how you wish this were all real.

“Yes,” you lie with a smile. “Yes, Namjoon, of course!”

Namjoon grins and pulls you to standing, gathering you in his arms as he hugs you tight. His family cheers and hollers in the background, and you sob into his shoulder as you cling to him.

He easily slides the diamond ring out of the box and onto your finger, where it sits and taunts you. The weight is heavy, and you whimper at the realization that this will never be for you. It will sit atop a pretty model’s finger sometime soon, when Namjoon resumes his regular life.

“Oh, my darlings, I am so happy for you!” Namjoon’s mother appears and wraps you both in a hug, weeping and kissing cheeks. “We must discuss planning!”

It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. The tears and weeping turn to wracking sobs, which quiets the family as they watch you hold your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize through your grief. “I—I just need a moment.”

Without another word, you turn from the scene and bolt back towards the bedroom.

It’s silent and Namjoon’s heart sinks.

This must be too much for you, too much for you to pretend to love him. He knew it was too much and he should have discussed it with you beforehand.

“She’s just a little err--,” Namjoon tries. “Easily emotional. I’ll go check on her.”

His family understands as Namjoon hurries towards the bedroom and gently opens the door.

You’re sitting over your overnight bag, trying to shove any clothing into it you can, while you sob openly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I should have told you. I sort of... told my mom I’d be proposing to my girlfriend.”

There’s pain in your eyes as you snap your head up to look at him. It nearly destroys him.

“You should have warned me!” You gasp. “Namjoon, I can’t do this.”

Namjoon lowers his head and shoves his hands into his pockets of his pajama pants.

“I get it. I know you want to go back to your regular life. I can take you home now.”

You’re silent for a moment, standing and moving towards the man.

“Don’t you get it, Namjoon?”

He raises his head to look at you curiously, brow knitted together with confusion.

“I’m in love with you, you asshole!” You cry, pushing at his chest. “I can’t continue to pretend this is real anymore. I love you, I absolutely love you and I can’t go on watching you pretend you love me too. It’s too much for me to handle.”

Namjoon’s world freezes in time as he watches you slide the ring off your finger. He grasps your hand to stop you, his eyes boring into your own.

“I never had to pretend.”

Before you can speak, Namjoon cups your cheek and pulls you in close, mouth sealing over your own in a desperate kiss.

You don’t fight it, not at all. You sink into his grasp and kiss him back with fervor, with all the pent-up emotions you’ve held back all this time.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispers as he pulls away from the kiss. “I meant every single word I said.”

More tears stream down your cheeks, and Namjoon is quick to wipe them away with his thumb.

“I know it’s maybe too soon for us to really be engaged, but I—I want that, with you,” he adds. “I want you to be my girlfriend… for real.”

“Are you being serious right now?” You ask as your hands cling to Namjoon’s waist.

He can’t help but to laugh, nodding in reassurance as he leans down to press his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

“Never been more serious in my life.”

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Joon murmurs into the nape of your neck.

You were supposed to be driving home to your apartment now, back to real life, but the snowstorm raged on and Namjoon decided it might be best to spend yet another night in the cabin. Together. As a couple. A real couple.

You didn’t put up much of a fight.

He’s pressing soft kisses into your tender skin as he closes the door to the bedroom.

“All mine, all mine.” He chants it like a mantra.

You’re trying to maneuver your way into the dark bedroom, only guided by the light from the fireplace. Namjoon stops you and pulls away from your neck, eyes soaking in every inch of you.

“You have no idea what I’ve been dying to do to you,” he speaks after a moment of appreciating your beauty.

“Hmm, I think I have some idea,” you say, a finger at Namjoon’s chest, directing him towards the bed. “I’ve been dying to suck your cock, Joon,” you whisper in his ear as he makes his way backwards. “Will you let me?”

Namjoon nods in a daze as he sits on the edge of the bed and watches as you kneel. Your eyes are full of hope, full of lust. It makes his cock harden further.

“Please do,” he breathes. “I’ve wondered what you’d look like with your mouth full of my dick.”

You smile as you tug at his flannel pajama pants, pulling them down thick thighs and calves until they’re completely off. Your mouth waters at the sight before you. Namjoon’s cock is thick, head weeping with pre-cum and straining hard against his taut chest. He’s been working out more, you can tell. His arms are full and strong, and his chest is so firm and defined.

He’s an entire three-course meal.

Before you move closer to his cock, Namjoon stops you.

“Take your shirt off.”

You comply easily, already settling well into an obedient role. He discards the shirt to the side and marvels at your breasts. He can’t wait to mark them up, suck them until you’re crying.

“Perfect,” he sighs. “You’re fucking perfect.”

He allows you to resume your work, eyeing the length of his cock before wrapping a hand around it and gently pumping.

“Shit,” he breathes as his head falls back. “I’ve dreamt about how it’d feel having my cock in your hands.”

“What else have you dreamed about?” You ask with a teasing smile, bringing your lips to the tip to paint tiny stripes. He tastes salty, somewhat earthy, and the pre-cum that’s gathered at the top gets swept up by your tongue.

Namjoon can’t believe how lucky he is. Can’t believe how incredible it feels to have you here, licking at his cock like a lollipop. He’s enchanted by the way your delicate tongue swirls around his head, testing and teasing.

“You look so good, princess,” he whispers as he tucks stray hair behind your ears.

You’re encouraged by his sweet-talk and soon descend to take his cock fully in as far as you can go. You’re definitely out of practice, but you steel yourself up to take him completely to the back of your throat. Namjoon’s desperate moans and cursing only encourages you further.

Soon enough, you’ve started a rhythm of bobbing your head and swirling your tongue and pumping your hand down his thick length. The noises leaving your mouth are sinful—slurping and sucking and whining around him. Namjoon’s got a hand on the back of your head, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail and coaxing your bouncing head further down his cock.

“Oh, shit, baby,” he grits through a tight jaw. “I’m gonna cum baby girl, fuuuuckkk—oh god, yes baby, just like that.”

You slurp and swallow around his cock as much as you can, head bobbing at a frantic pace while you cast your eyes upwards to the man to watch him come apart. He meets your eye contact and loses it at the fire burning in your beautiful eyes.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps as his cock pulses. “Cumming, baby—ohhhh, shit, take it all, baby.”

After slowing your pace completely, you sweetly moan around his length as his salty cum splatters on your tongue. Bringing Namjoon to climax with your mouth is already one of your favorite hobbies, and you’re desperate to do it again.

When he’s completely spent in your mouth, you pop off carefully and present your tongue to your boyfriend, who smiles.

“You gonna swallow my cum, baby girl?” He asks, cupping your cheek sweetly.

You nod in reply, and he groans as he watches you close your mouth and visibly swallow his load.

“Fuck, that was so hot. Fucking kiss me already,” he demands, pulling you up gently by the hand and pressing his mouth to yours. He doesn’t care if he can taste himself still lingering in your mouth. In fact, he thinks your mouth should always taste like him.

Namjoon holds you close as he kisses you, tongue diving around and seeking purchase in your mouth. His hands are roaming your body, cupping your breasts and caressing your curves. He can’t get enough. He doesn’t think there will come a time in his life when he won’t love touching you.

His hand smoothes over the satin of your panties and he smirks into the kiss as he feels how wet they are.

“Oh my,” he tuts as he rubs at your clothed slit. “All this from sucking my cock, princess?”

It’s too late to be ashamed of it. You simply nod and whimper as his thick fingers rub at your core. You’re dying to feel those fingers inside you, scissoring you open to prepare you for his massive cock.

“P-please,” you gasp, needing more of him. “Please, Joon.”

He lets out a breath of contentment, loving the way his name sounds in your breathy moans. In one quick swoop, he flings your panties off and onto the floor and slides down to his knees where you knelt moments before.

“I want to see this pretty pussy up close,” he murmurs as he lays you out at the edge and spreads open your thighs as wide as he can.

You’re gorgeous, absolutely mouth-watering. He licks his lips as he watches your folds drip with arousal and takes a delicate finger to trace the slit gently.

“Fuck,” you gasp as he swirls his finger around your sensitive clit. It’s been so long since someone else has made you orgasm, you’re sure you won’t last a second with the man of your sexual dreams face-first in your cunt.

“This is my pussy now,” he states as he leans in close and licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. “I’m going to make you cum every fucking night, baby. Gonna claim this cunt as my own.”

You’re trembling from his words and his actions as he soon buries his face into your pussy and eats as if he’s a man starved. His tongue swirls around your hole before swiping up to your clit, making your back arch and keen off the bed. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit and sucks gently, lewd noises echoing off the walls of the bedroom.

“Namjoon!” You squeal as he slides two of his fingers inside you and slowly pumps. They’re thick and perfect, and they’re better than you could have ever dreamed.

“Cum for me, baby,” he coaxes as he licks at your clit. “I know you want to.”

He’s right. You’re desperate for it and the string inside your belly that tightens with each thrust of his solid fingers has it nearing a snapping point.

Namjoon speeds up, adds a third finger and fucks into you like a man on a mission. He watches your face pinch in agonized delight and is hypnotized by the way your tits bounce with each thrust up. His cock is rock solid again, aching to bury itself deep inside your womb and coat you with his cum.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he breathes as he watches your body quiver. “Cum on my fingers, let daddy see you fall apart.”

He presses his lips to your clit one last time and sucks, and it sends you reeling over the edge into bliss. Namjoon moans as he feels your cunt convulse and squeeze his fingers as if they’re his cock, and he nearly whines at how good it’s going to feel when he’s balls deep inside of you.

“Fuck!” You cry as your back lifts off the bed and your legs shake. “Oh, my god!”

Namjoon kitten licks at your pussy as you come down, cleaning up the juices that coat his fingers. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he does it, sucking up your essence like it’s an expensive wine he won’t waste a drop of.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he says as you try to catch your breath. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my office.”

The smile on your face turns lustful as you spread your legs open once again and present yourself to him.

“Why don’t we practice right now?”

Namjoon grips the base of his cock and gives himself a few pumps as he stares at your gorgeous body—laid out and ready for him.

“Merry Christmas to me,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to your lips and lines himself up.

In one swift motion, he slips inside your juicy channel and buries himself to the hilt. You’re so wet and warm and tight that Namjoon falters and groans out loud.

“Holy shit,” he cries. “Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever felt in my life.”

Namjoon filling you up to the brim is something you’ve only ever dreamt of, and now that it’s happening you feel intoxicated. He’s so thick inside you, stretching you past what you thought you could handle, and the burn is so sweet.

“Fuck me, Joon,” you beg as he continues to still inside you. “Please, fuck me, daddy.”

It’s the magic word for Namjoon and instantly he’s snapped back to feral, ready to claim you as his own. He grips your hips tightly as he pumps in and out of you, delighted by the squelching juicy sounds of your cunt as he takes you.

“That’s right, baby girl, I’m your fucking daddy,” he grunts. “Take this fat cock for daddy.”

Your legs quiver with each thrust and Namjoon sucks a nipple into his mouth, nibbling gently on the bud which makes your body thrum with electricity. He’s marking you, claiming you inside and out, you realize. You whine and keen for him to continue, and Namjoon growls as he doubles his pace.

He thrusts into you without abandon, desperately seeking his release that will have him spilling his cum anywhere he possibly can.

“Mmm, look at my pretty princess,” he groans as he stares at your blissed-out face. “Taking daddy’s cock so good, being a perfect little slut.”

His words make your eyes roll back into your head. You’d never had someone speak so nasty to you while being so kind and praise-worthy that you don’t think you can now ever live without it.

“G-gonna cum, daddy!” you cry as you feel your body nearing the edge. “Please let me cum!”

Namjoon gasps for air and drops a thumb to your clit to rub circles on the sensitive bundle.

“Yes, baby girl, cum for daddy. Cum on my cock, princess.”

Namjoon’s unrelenting pace and thumb handily stroking your clit brings you to the end, sending you screaming into orgasmic delight.

Namjoon nearly weeps at how good your cunt feels convulsing around his cock, walls coaxing him and gripping him tight as if your pussy is begging for his own release.

“Cum inside me daddy, please,” you beg as you try to catch your breath.

Namjoon needs no more permission. He gasps as your channel tightens around him impossibly and sends him into his own release. He whimpers as his cock pulses with ferocity, loads of cum splattering your walls.

He doesn’t pull out. Instead, he rests his sweaty forehead on yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Holy shit,” you gasp as you feel yourself returning to Earth.

Namjoon laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, before nodding.

“Yeah,” is all he can manage.

After a few shuddering breaths, you wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s naked body and hold him close, as close as you can.

“If this is what Christmas is all about, sign me up.”

Namjoon buries his face into your neck and kisses you sweetly, before lifting and giving you a playful smile.

“I guess all Scrooge needed was a good fuck. Dickens got that part all wrong.”

Returning to work after the New Year was easier this year than it had ever been in your career.

Namjoon was given the promotion. He told Seokjin he wanted to keep his corner office near you because he “likes the view”, and that he would give all his top cases to the best lawyer in the office—you.

Jimin won’t stop screaming when he sees the diamond ring on your finger. You haven’t wanted to take it off since the moment you put it on. Maybe it’s not an engagement ring quite yet, maybe it’s just more of a promise. Either way, Jimin is ecstatic and confused as he shakes you down for answers.

He walks with you to your desk, chattering away about his week with Yoongi, while you sip your convenience store coffee.

“What the fuck?” Jimin asks as he notices something on your desk. “What is that?”

As you round the corner, your eyes catch sight of a gleaming silver contraption on your desk, right next to your brand new computer.

A Nespresso.

A smile crosses your lips as you approach the expensive machine and notice a folded up card on top.

Inside, the card is simple.

“To the only girl in the world who deserves a Nespresso. Love, Namjoon.”

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#bts smut #bts fanfic #kim namjoon smut #rm smut #namjoon smut #ficswithluv #rockin around the christmas tropes #bts imagines #bts reactions #kim namjoon imagines

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aenaxes-moved · 3 years

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[hunter x afab!reader] hunter thinks it's a good idea for you to learn hand-to-hand. and if it's a way for you to see him sweaty, sleeveless, and in close quarters, who are you to turn down the perfect opportunity?

warnings: unprotected vaginal sex

w/c: 4.7k

a/n: i'm a simple creature—i see the sexual tension of hand-to-hand combat, and i am brought low. also the marauder has a cargo hold for literary purposes, now. anyways enjoy my first nsfw fic on this blog. reposting bc tumblr censored me :/

“Try again,” Hunter orders as he crouches down beside where you lie sprawled, chest heaving and arms limp on the training mat. “Just like I showed you: trap the wrist, lock the arm, twist and throw.”

“Unlike you,” you wheeze, struggling to lift your head off the floor, “I’m not exactly built to throw people around.” You forego your weak attempt to get up, and you swear you feel your teeth rattle as the back of your head hits the mat with a dull thud.

You turn your head, meeting the sergeant's piercing gaze with a weary half-grimace half-grin. There’s a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes—maybe incredulity—that he might be training a half-fledged jedi in the brutally graceful art of floorslamming an opponent over a shoulder while the others had taken Omega on a trip to meet the natives. It’s something you should know well, having spent your youth under the wild and unrelenting martial acrobatics of master Voss, but at the end of the day, you would choose swordplay over brute physicality without hesitation.

Especially if you’re facing off against an opponent who can and has hefted you high above his head and practically launched you across the training mat.

If Hunter’s amused at all by this knowledge, he only makes it known with a huff.

“Empire’s out for your head; you need to learn to fight in more ways than your fancy jedi training. That includes hand-to-hand just in case you lose your lightsaber. Again.”

“That was once, Hunter!” you whine, warmth spreading across your cheeks. But he’s right. Loathe as you are to admit it, no amount of force pushing would have gotten you out of that mess on Onderon, and it was a miracle (otherwise known as Echo) that you’d found your lightsaber at all.

It’s an embarrassing memory and, deeper down, a dangerous one that could have ended in more than stray blaster fire. Petulant as you would like to be, Hunter has a point. So you reach up, flapping your hand about until you feel Hunter’s hand wrap around yours, callused and firm, and yank you up to your feet. You stumble as you regain your footing, but as soon as you’ve collected your bearings, you’re shaking your hands out and bouncing on the tips of your toes.

“Fuck it. Let me try again.”

“Do you want me to go slower on the approach?” Hunter asks, this time, a sure note of playful teasing dancing over his tongue. The corners of his lips curl up, imperceptible to most, but you’ve flown long enough with the crew to pick up on his slight giveaways. You narrow your eyes, fixing him with an accusatory frown.

“‘Imps won’t slow down for you y/n,’” you parrot his words with a sour expression, begrudging theatrics complete with an exaggerated eye roll.

Hunter laughs, but he’s already drawing back into a low crouch, arms raised and muscles coiled, ready to strike. You take the brief moment of clarity between your warm up and readying stance to admire him, his hair tied with his bandana, piercing eyes set in a razor focus as his chest rises and falls, even, steady. The sharp clarity is made complete, authentic, with his garb. Having swapped his standard blacks for a sleeveless top, a sheer veil of sweat glimmers brushed over the toned muscle rippling under his skin. It’s an appealing point of motivation, a reward for the small price of being thrown around for the past hour.

“You’re learning,” Hunter smiles, small and crooked, but a smile that breaks past his stolid stoicism nonetheless. “Attagirl.”

Your heart flutters, and you lunge.

Two rapid steps, and you’re meeting Hunter in the middle as he rushes towards you. Right foot, anchor heel, pivot, and the sharp wind of his arm shooting forward nearly knocks the breath from your lungs as it just barely brushes past your cheek.

He’s fast. But you’re faster, you challenge, and you shoot your left arm up, closing your grip with your right hand and trapping his forearm in your hands just beneath the hem of his glove. And when you find secure purchase, confident enough that he can’t counter, you yank with a sharp, vindictive shout. For the first time today, your grip holds.

You feel him roll over your shoulder, guided by your hand, compelled by gravity, and you’ve won. After all the blocks and parries and attacks-turned-scrambling-defenses, you’ve got Hunter exactly where you want him. Hunter may have size, bulk, experience—well, everything other than the Force—that you don’t, but if he’s taught you anything during your time with the batch it’s that timing is king.

You whoop as you feel his back roll off yours, squeezing your eyes shut as you claim your victory into the empty cargo hold.

You forget, however, the unspoken and very important step of letting go.

As soon as the split-second of simple victory flashes through you, you yelp, pulled off your feet and centre of balance flung off to the far reaches of the room. You’re reduced to an ungraceful flail of limbs and panicked disorientation as you fall, bracing yourself for an imminent collision and a sure promise of a bruise the day after. But instead of the forgiving, plasticky foam of the floor, you land with a soft oof on something else, harder than the mat, damp, bony…?

When you open your eyes, you’re propped up on one elbow, your other shoulder dipped close against Hunter’s chest, and your nose just a breath away from his collar, and, Maker help you, you can see his collarbones, sharp and clean through his blacks, rising and falling rhythmically with his heavy, straining breaths. You lift your head just in time to meet Hunter’s eyes, lightly curtained by one single swath of perfectly mussed stray hair, pupils blown wide with pride, wonder, and—

Shit.

“Uh, yay me?” you offer weakly, hoping you can blame the tremble in your voice on bone-deep exhaustion, not the blooming heat roiling in your gut.

“Yeah,” Hunter says, eyes trained on yours, steady and still.

It doesn’t take force sensitivity to feel the tension buzzing high in what little space separates your faces, the boundaries of playful sportsmanship bowing under the weight of testing curiosity, circling, prodding. The breath that passes your lips quivers, of which you’re only aware when you see Hunter’s eyes flick briefly to your lips. He lingers a moment, and you swallow hard, almost audibly, when you catch a flash of his tongue darting over his lower lip.

It might be an adrenaline high—his dilated pupils, the wild thumping of your heart against your ribs. High velocity combat and being thrown flat onto your back would do that.

You hope it isn’t.

The silence is enough to steal the sound from your tongue, just low breathing as you hover above him. It demands to be broken, something to be the first push back into the rhythm of which you have become so accustomed, the comfortable banter and competition devoid of anything more than meaningless flirting. Because for his ruggedly handsome looks, his commandeering presence, an aura that had men and women sending him drinks from across the bar, you had never let yourself seriously entertain the idea of being able to have him.

It’s hard to entertain attraction, much less romance, when you and the batch are high priority on the Empire’s list to shoot on sight, but the possibility has kept you awake at night, fingers shoved between your thighs while he sleeps two doors down. The fantasy of having, breathing him in like air, makes you feel alive, makes you feel the rare and fleeting feeling of safety. You, exiled jedi. Him, one of millions, the dedicated soldier sworn to a cause.

And yet, here you are.

Hunter lifts one hand from the floor, reaching up to brush the hair from your eyes, and you find yourself having to bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep from turning your head and nuzzling into his palm, from pushing close and staying, indulging. And while your mind blurs in the frantic flurry of fighting it, he gives in freely, turning his wrist to run his gloved thumb over your jaw. It’s the softest you’ve ever found standard issue blacks to feel, but more importantly, it’s the closest he’s ever been.

“Yay you,” he whispers.

Hunter leans forward, sliding his hand across the side of your neck, his thumb soft at your ear as he curls his fingers into your hair and closes the distance. One moment there’s a vast breadth of space between you; the next, you feel Hunter’s nose brushing over your cheek, his breath ghosting over your skin for that last moment of separation. Then you’re moving with him, meeting his lips with soft motions pleading for more as you slide one hand up into his hair and press your chests flush.

He doesn’t taste quite like your dreams, all smooth, sweet freshness dancing over your tongue. Instead, there is raw exhaustion and strain bitter and heady on his skin as he licks over your lower lip. But no matter; it is real and present and Hunter all the same.

The training room silence is broken when he nudges a knee between your legs, pressing close between the want pooling low in your belly, as you barely manage to muffle a whimper into his mouth, breathy and high as you break away to gasp. Hunter grants you that moment of rest, and he’s pulling you back down against him again, holding you tight.

“I’ll stop if you want,” he mumbles against your lips. “We stop, and we forget this ever happened. But.” He pauses to nip at your lips. “You give me the word, and we take this as far as you want, y/n. Understood?”

You nod, too busy chasing his tongue to feel his gaze fixed on you. And, as always, your blissful ignorance does not escape Hunter’s watchful eye. You whine as you feel his fingers close around your chin and lift, pulling away just enough that you can see his dark eyes steady on yours.

“I need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you whimper, reduced to little more than pleading submission, doe-eyed and dreamy as he slowly runs his thumb over your lip. “Want you, Hunter. Need you.”

“Attagirl.”

He makes a noise that sounds like quiet laughter, but all you care about is that he’s nuzzling against your skin and holding you close. Hunter kisses you with a trembling restraint that you practically feel vibrating under his touch, the excitement of being able to have, the roiling fear of intimacy, vulnerable and open under your palms.

It’s something you know well. You feel the same.

“We should really wash up,” he murmurs into your mouth.

“‘Fresher’s big enough for two,” you say a bit cheekily.

“You really want it all, huh?” Hunter chuckles, squeezing the back of your neck as he presses a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Never get anything if you don’t ask,” you smile against his lips.

“Can’t disappoint the lady, then, can I?” he grins, dropping his head back down onto the training mat. You sigh, resting your cheek on his collar for a single breath before you feel him shift beneath you, pulling you into his lap as he sits upright. Hunter offers you a final peck, a promise for more in just a short while.

You silently promise you’ll return to the hold come morning and clean up the mats before Echo can chew you out for any sloppiness, but cleanliness is the least of your concerns as you stumble with Hunter towards the threshold, all soft laughter and kisses strayed off their mark. Whatever concerns about anything other than the bliss of the now are even more obscured as the refresher doors slide shut behind you. You laugh as Hunter twists out of his blacks, which almost has you tripping out of your own, but he’s there to catch you, sturdy arms and warm skin to pull you into the stall and under a startling shock of cold water.

Maybe it’s that brief shock of cold before the showerhead runs warm that offers you a moment of clarity, the space and quiet to realize where you stand and take in the man before you. You’re no stranger to proximity, having spent more than one mission squeezed up against Hunter’s side, but closeness doesn’t begin to describe where you stand now, bared to each other beyond simple undress.

A smattering of scars stretches over Hunter’s skin, an organized chaos of milky pockmarks and slashes so often hidden under his armor. You recognize a few, blaster fire and frightened memories of blood and acrid fear, and the rest you save for a later night when you’ve sated the flutter in your chest as your eyes drift lower.

It would be embarrassing, how your mouth waters when you catch sight of his cock, half-hard and framed by a dark thatch of curls. But any need for shame is dismissed by the sheer gravity of want because he’s thick. You had always imagined him to be big—that isn’t much of a surprise—but your stomach churns delightfully at the thought of him stretching you open, making you feel him for days after.

“You’re staring,” Hunter huffs softly.

“Can you blame me?” you breathe.

Hunter laughs, rich and resonant over the patter of the shower spray, and he reaches that short distance forward, gently taking your hand in his and lifting your palm to his lips. You step backwards, letting him crowd you between the wall as you cup his cheek.

His hands, rarely bared to his brothers, let alone you, are strong and weary with scars of war, and he lets them follow the slope of your arm, tracing down your shoulder, your waist, and coming down to your hips, seeing in full clarity under his fingertips.

“Hold on tight.”

“Hunter, wait—ah!”

You yelp as he slips his forearms under your thighs without warning, hefting you up against the cool metal. In your hazy delirium, it occurs to you that you’re both exhausted from sparring and that him holding you up would only wear him down further. You want to tell him you’re perfectly fine on your feet. But whatever protest you may have had planned dies on your lips with a choked sob when you feel his fingers knead into the soft skin of your thighs and tug.

You arch off the wall, breath catching in your throat when you feel Hunter shift his hips forward and anchor you in place as he grinds his cock over your clit. Any hope of forming coherent words, let alone sound, is completely beyond you, now. Heat coils in your gut, all-consuming, white-hot tension pulled tight and ready to snap with each slow motion he makes.

And—the bastard—he’s good at it, too, leaving you squirming under his grip when he shifts away, cruelly aware of the brief moment just as your pleasure crests. Hunter lets you whine, filling the space with firm, insistent kisses over your collar: enough time for your high to ebb, enough time for him to stoke the frustration, the need tight in your core. Then he’s pressing your hips against the wall again and chasing you forwards, hips flush as he nips over your jaw.

All you find yourself able to do is dig your nails into his shoulders and sob.

“Shit, are you crying?” Hunter gasps, nearly dropping you down into a helpless heap under the warm water.

You shake your head wildly, locking your ankles around the small of his back as you keep him in place. It’s enough to startle him back into stillness, and he readjusts his grip on your thighs, the weight of his cock heavy against your throbbing cunt as you gasp for breath.

“I just—I’m fine,” you laugh, bordering delirious as stray drops of water catch on your tongue. “Just fuck me, Hunter. Make it better,” you breathe, chest heaving as you lick your lips. “Please.”

You know the expression that flashes across his face, the need to tease and prod, making gentle light of a dire situation. But this time, Hunter does not entertain it with his signature deadpan drawl, instead meeting you with a soft, imploring kiss.

“So pretty when you beg,” he whispers.

You open your mouth to offer a snappy retort; even in your desperation, there must be some dignity. Instead, your ears fill with the sound of your stuttering gasp over the water pattering against the refresher walls as, finally, finally, you feel the blunt head of his cock dip into your cunt.

Hunter pushes into you with a maddening slowness, one that reduces you to breathless whimpering broken between what gasps you can take. You dig your heels into his back and meet him with a straining moan because Maker, he’s even bigger than you thought, and it’s everything you’ve ever needed.

“Gotta breathe,” Hunter grunts, sinking deeper into you.

You’re not entirely sure whether it’s a reminder for you or for him, but you manage to slip in a gasping breath before he’s nudging up against a spot that has tears blurring your vision in dizzy euphoria. And when you come down from that high spark, legs jerking over his arms, he’s still pushing impossibly deep into you.

You watch him in a dazed trance, fixed on how his brows furrow with each quiet, flinching gasp that passes his parted lips as your cunt flutters around him. And how, through it all, his eyes never leave yours, boring into you with a fierce intensity, devotion, demanding your attention and pleading for your touch. It’s more than pure physicality, sex under the crushing uncertainty of a bounty and the shadow of conquest at your heels. He reaches for you, as open as he’s ever been, and you reach back.

“Hunter, I—”

Your words give way to a long, aching moan as you feel the sharp dip of his hips finally press up against your ass, filling you like you’ve always been meant to take him. (And you have, you swear, to him, to everything you know.)

“Gonna start moving, okay?” Hunter says through a shuddering sigh. He trails one hand up your side, thumbing over your chin while you tremble in his arms. “Cyar’ika, tell me I can.”

“Please,” you whimper.

And he delivers. You whine, feeling the slow drag, the toe-curling burn as Hunter eases almost completely out of you then pushes back in, just as slow as the first. He’s measured in his motions, and if you could see past the tears welling in your eyes, you’re sure you would see the razor focus over his features. There’s a tense edge you can barely make out from your slack-jawed disorientation, a restraint behind each careful thrust. He’s savoring it, you think as you bite down on the inside of your cheek.

But when Hunter jerks forward, punching the breath from your lungs as he drives up hard, pulling an obscene noise from your lips with a stuttering apology, you realize it’s not some way to draw this out as long as humanly possible. And as good as it is now, it’s not enough.

“H-Hunter,” you start. “Hunter, you—you don’t have to hold back—!” Your voice rises to a wavering pitch when you feel his thumb trail down your stomach, nestling close above where you part around him as he starts to rub gentle motions into your clit.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasps sharply with you when he presses deep again.

“You—you physically threw me across the cargo hold—like an hour ago,” you laugh through hiccupy sighs.

“That was different,” he chokes out a soft chuckle. “I want this to be good. For you.”

Trembling wildly, you muster the strength to lift your hand to his cheek, stroking over his wet skin as the refresher patters down around you. The aching stretch of Hunter’s cock between your thighs ebbs into something sweet, warming your chest when he turns his head to kiss your palm.

“You are good to me,” you whisper, brushing your thumb over his skin. “I want this. I want you.”

You hear him inhale sharp, holding his breath as he meets you with dark eyes, wide and searching. To his gaze, you offer him a soft smile. And it’s enough.

You barely have enough time to loop your arms around his neck and hold as Hunter shifts his grip, firm and high up on your thighs, and starts a brutal pace that has you near screaming into his neck. Your legs jerk helplessly with every relentless thrust, and you find yourself knotting your fingers into his hair, cradling his head for some—any—purchase you can find.

It’s reminders like this that while Hunter doesn’t have the imposing stature or towering height of his brothers, his sheer presence alone is overwhelming, surrounding you and consuming you whole in ways the others simply could never. The power is intoxicating, crushing in its pressure, the submission and release to pleasure it demands of you, and you sob, a whiny, choked sound you barely hear over the frantic, wet slap of Hunter’s skin against yours. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and it’s so, so achingly good.

“Fuck, I’ve always—” Hunter gasps, craning his neck to nuzzle up against your jaw. “I’ve always wanted to do this. To have you like this.” You turn your head, meeting him in a lopsided kiss, all tongue and shared breath. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

“More,” you whine, crying out when he pins you against the wall, just so he might reach between your thighs again and thumb insistently over your clit.

Even with the water showering over your skin, you’re distinctly aware of the tears streaking down your cheeks, only fitting for the overwhelming sensation building in your core, cresting in blinding heat with every drag, every ridge of his cock moving inside you.

He fucks into you with soft noises, low enough that they might be drowned out by the sound of water if you weren’t pressed so close. It’s fitting, that the stolid discipline of a sergeant might follow him off the battlefield and into the bedroom, but as characteristic of him as it may be, you can’t bring yourself to particularly care—not when he’s holding you up like a ragdoll and bending you to his pleasure. You cling tighter to him with a muffled sob.

It’s nothing like your nights alone in your bunk, wishing for a warm body and something more than hopeful fantasy. Where your fingers only offered you a shot of momentary bliss, this feels like you’re falling apart in his hands, utterly powerless in only the best of ways as the coil in your gut draws tight.

“‘m close,” you croak as the heat seeps bone-deep, spreading down your spine, blazing in the tips of your fingers, and finding home in the buzzing haze between your eyes. “Hunter, I’m—I’m so close.”

“Let go,” Hunter croons, bearing the rough pad of his thumb harder against your clit, pressing firm with every thrust forward, soothing as he draws back. Your cunt squeezes down around him with the spike in want pooled in your gut, drawing a low moan from his lips, and he meets you with a thrust hard enough that you squeal. “Doin’ so well, cyar’ika.”

Trembling, you bury your nose in the juncture of his neck, but you’re pressed backward instead, a light, unyielding pressure at your neck before the back of your head is guided against the metal wall. Hunter holds you at the throat, nothing but a hovering presence of his warmth over your skin, but enough that he commands your attention, steady gaze, pupils blown as he thrusts up against you, pushing you higher and higher against that mindless gap of pleasure with every intent to pull you apart.

“Look at me, y/n,” he murmurs, low and hoarse. “Look at me when you come.”

He drives into you once more, hard, and the tension mounting in your gut breaks like a dam, flooding over your tongue in sweet, simple pleasure that pulses and shudders through your core. You feel it like your body, your visceral pleasure, is not your own, floating in a mindless state of bliss no longer anchored to anything but your rapidly beating heart and the shivering tremors buzzing at your fingertips. Lips parted in a silent cry, your lashes flutter as you let yourself be swept up in the peak of your pleasure, swept up in him, his gaze trained firm, fond on yours.

And you’re too fucked out to do more than gasp, breathy, stuttering inhales as Hunter settles his hands around your waist and starts a pace impossibly faster than before. Somehow, through the aching tremor in your legs and your limp form pressed up against the wall, you manage to keep your grip steady and keep your arms wrapped snug around Hunter’s shoulders. He pulls your pleasure, agonizingly long with no end in sight, chasing his high as you whimper and plead unintelligibly into his ear.

“C-Close?” you manage, digging your fingertips deeper into the sinew of his back.

Hunter hums, a feeble attempt to keep what little composure he has left, but you feel his movements lose the steady rhythm he had maintained thus far, forgoing fluidity and grace for the raw and primal need to satiate. Lucid sensation beyond you, you simply let him take his fill, lazily running your tongue over his lips and holding him tight as he continues to fuck into you with erratic, stuttering thrusts.

And not a moment later, Hunter bears your hips down hard on his, gasping like he’s taken his first breath of air as his climax thunders through him. You squirm in his hold with a thready groan, reveling in the warm spurts of come filling your cunt and oozing down the curve of your ass onto the refresher floor. For all your exhaustion, you curl your fingers at the base of his neck, pulling him close into a slow, lazy kiss, more languid touches than an actual kiss, but a promise of intimacy all the same.

Hunter tips forward and shifts one arm to wrap snug around the small of your back, propping you both against the wall with the other as the tension drains from his coiled poise. He sags forward with a final, shuddering sigh, pulling out of you and setting you on your wobbly feet, to which you promptly pitch forward against his shoulder.

He laughs and catches you with breathless ease.

“I have no idea how we didn’t slip,” you gasp through heaving inhales, shuddering as you feel warm rivulets of come dripping down the skin of your inner thigh. As the pleasure subsides, you return to your surroundings in a haze, faintly aware of the running showerhead, the steam, and you drop your head forward, knocking your forehead gently against Hunter’s.

“Neither do I,” he laughs and nuzzles close. “Next time, we’ll pick somewhere with less water.”

“Next time?” you prod, knowing full well that neither you nor Hunter were particularly fond of mindless flings.

“Next time,” Hunter grins, tipping his head forward and brushing his lips over your brow.

“If you two are done in there!” Echo’s voice, exasperation weary and gruff, cuts through the patter of water against the metal paneling with a bang, nearly sending you and Hunter scrambling apart if the refresher stall wasn’t already so narrow. “We need showers!”

“What do you mean ‘you two?’” Omega chirps from outside the door. You have to clap your hand over your mouth to keep from laughing aloud as you watch the rosy pallor drain from Hunter’s face as you hear her muffled protests as someone (likely Wrecker) coaxes her away.

“Not it—you’re giving her the talk,” you quip, biting back a smile as you peck his cheek.

“Maker help me,” he mutters.

#argh tumblr censored my first post #anyways #i originally wanted to write a sparring scene with wrecker but. i think that wouldn't really give you a fighting chance #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #bad batch x reader #yaej.writes #filter

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kyberheart · 3 years

Text

A Deceitful Creation Part #1 - Wolffe x F!Reader

Part #2

Summary: You’ve been trying for a while now to get pregnant with your lover. Knowing that may never happen, you ask for some outside help from Wolffe on the down-low...

Word Count: 1483

Warnings: 18+, piv sex, infidelity, pregnancy/trying for a baby, cursing, angst

A/N: Heyyyyyyyy.... I’m still here! I had some stuff going on this past week so I missed my Friday fic upload, but hey! It’s Sunday, only missed it by a few days so whatever. I’m still working on part #3 of my little Techy-boy story. Hopefully will be finished by Friday the 3rd! Heh... part #3 on the 3rd... perfect. ANYWAY I hope you like this little blurb I wrote. I wanted maximum sad with lots of OOF. I kept the summary and header as vague as possible to not spoil the end. Good luck in there!

(Ao3 Link if ya want it)

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Wolffe was different with you. All teeth and tongue and nails dug into the plump flesh of your thighs. The look adorning his eyes in this moment is akin to a knife’s edge; he was holding back as not to tear you to shreds.

Your lover on the other hand, well… he was the whisper of a cool breeze in the night. A cascading avalanche of stolen breaths and languid strokes. Completely and utterly tender with you.

“C-close Wolffe, almost…I’m—!”

He nods, stooping to kiss you, but swiftly retracts his head with a tiny scowl. He knew the rules. No marks that can’t be covered up, no pet names, and under no circumstances can he kiss you. This was just a mutually beneficial transaction. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I got you… I got you…”

He’s reaching down, down, down to make contact with your clit. You keen, dropping your head back into the mattress. He fucks you through your orgasm, spilling inside of you as your legs wrap tightly around his waist. You tremble under him as you come down from your high. In a blur of muscle-memory Wolffe is reaching behind you for a pillow. He props your hips upward with it, grinding into you a few more times to make sure his seed is in there nice and deep.

“If this isn’t the one, I’m not sure if I can help. Maybe what they say is true, maybe we’re all infertile. I mean, I’ve heard rumors of defectors running off and getting people knocked up, but…” He shrugs, pulling out of you to head into the ‘fresher. You sigh, staring at the grey ceiling above you. That really wasn’t the case. Some were infertile, yes. You knew that all too well…

“I’m headed out. I have a supply run to facilitate. You alright?”

Wolffe grunts as he snaps his scratched armor around himself. He wasn’t much for conversations after the act. Rather, he preferred to be on his merry way as fast as possible. It wasn’t so much to avoid catching feelings as it was to steer clear of talking. He was undoubtedly the most stand-offish of the clones you knew. You were often surprised at how easy it was to lure him into the bedroom with how hostile his demeanor could be. Though on second thought he was just a normal guy. Sex is just as fun for him as it is for others.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks Wolffe. If this one doesn’t stick I’ll leave you alone.”

He pauses to search your face. You smile at him, wrapping your arms around your chest with a sleepy yawn. A garbled message blips from his forearm, which he answers with a quick acknowledgement before seating his helmet onto his head.

“Understood. I’ll see you around. Say hi to my vod for me when he gets back.”

And with that, he’s silently leaving your apartment into the void beyond. In the silence of the room your mind wanders once more. You think of your lover. Where was he right now? Somewhere far, far away? Somewhere he was safe? Was he warm, fed, and happy?

The cool dribble of Wolffe’s cum down your thigh snaps you from your rumination. You glance at the clock, finding it’s already been twenty minutes since he’d left. More than enough time, you think. With a quick curl of your spine you’re up on your feet and heading to the ‘fresher for a nice long shower. Hopefully when you were out you’d have a comm or a message from your lover.

----------------- He hunches low, lips hovering so close to your ear his hot breaths could have burned a hole through your head.

“That’s it baby, such a good girl. Just a—oh, squeezing me so tight tonight, huh? This’ll be the one, the kriffing ONE. Gonna fuck you full, fill you up to bursting. Make you s-swell with my baby. Can’t wait to see you like that… all mine…”

You cum so hard the world around you dissipates into nothing but him. He growls, pitching you forward with his angled thrusts. His hips crush you into the bed as he cums right along with you. His amber eyes sizzle with freshly tapped desire. Whispered adorations mingle between the two of you, lost to the spinning darkness of the night. When you’ve calmed your heaving breaths, you reach up to grab one of the pillows above you. He helps you position it under your hips before kissing you roughly. Between pecks, he speaks with a heart full of gentle sweetness.

“I’ll keep doing this—you’ll see. We’ll have a little one running around before you know it. Our little adi’ka… yeah…”

His eyes grow distant, lips stilling at the nape of your neck. You huff, smacking his shoulder with your hand.

“I know babe, don’t worry. With how much you’ve been between my legs I think we’ll be having LOTS of them running around.”

You wink at him, leaning up to kiss him again. He chuckles, reciprocating your heavy prodding tongue with his own within your mouth.

“I just… I know we’ve been trying for over a year… what if I...”

You shoot him a frown, tilting your head up to look him straight in the eyes. The fact of the matter was daunting and sat like tepid acid on your tongue. If he knew he wasn’t able to sire children, it would truly break him.

“NO! You are perfectly fine the way you are. I’d know, remember? I’m chief medical officer here dummy. You—WE have nothing to worry about. It’ll happen when the time is right. Trust me.”

He smiles at you, the sight of which could warm even the frostiest planet of Hoth into the dunes of Tatooine. All your love, all your patience and turmoil and sympathy and curiosity and… kriff, you’re everything was him. All him, always was and always will be. Him.

-------------------- The vividness of your dream wakes you with a start. It seemed to be recurring the last few days, a memory of the last time you and your lover were together. You shake your head of the images that haunted you. If only he was home, you wouldn’t worry so much about him.

It had already been a few weeks since Wolffe had occupied your bed. A queasy feeling was beginning to settle low in your stomach. Your lover hadn’t been back in a long while, and you were starting to think something wasn’t right.

You rise to pee, realizing in the dimly lit hush of dawn that this was becoming a frequent occurrence for you. When your shirt brushes a bit too roughly against one of your nipples you yelp. Were they always so sore in the morning? Wait…

Could this be it? A surge of adrenaline hits you like a Hammerhead Corvette as you rush into the ‘fresher. Not long after, you have a small white strip laying on your counter. Your knee bobs with anticipation, head in your hands as you sit on the hard tiled floor. This might just be it!

As the lines swell in the tiny viewport, you force yourself to breathe as deeply as possible. The memory pushes it’s way to the front of your mind once more to taunt you, to make you feel a twinge of guilt at what you’ve done. With a groan you run your fingers soothingly through your hair. You knew you could do this. Joy, passion, and relief would pave over the deceit from which this baby would be born. Your lover would never know the truth, but it was unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Forging a life, a family for the two of you was all that mattered right now.

The time is up. The minutes counted down with bated breaths. A scream tears its way from your throat as you see the result:

Pregnant

Before you can have a full-blown excitement meltdown, a beeping from the other room draws your attention. Your comm sits on your nightstand, signaling you of an incoming message. The words flash on the screen as you wipe tears from your eyes:

Dropping in to save a Jedi Master on Lola Sayu. Don’t worry, should be home before your pretty little head hits the pillow. See you soon my love. My heart is yours, forever.

Oh, you were squealing with delight now. It was finally happening! For REAL! This was a dream come true. A baby… you were going to have a baby! And your lover was going to be home by the end of the day. You wanted to comm him, send him a picture of the test, yell it to the kriffing UNIVERSE that you were fulfilling a long-awaited dream. Both of you were. You calmed yourself, resolving to tell him in person when he got home.

You couldn’t wait until Echo was back!

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

not allowed v, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of jungkook x reader – est. poly relationship

summary: BTS have had a long, busy day. Heck, a busy week, preparing for 2021 Grammys performance and interviews. It’s finally over, and all Min Yoongi wants is to take a shower and sleep with his favorite person. There’s no one like you. He deserves some special treatment – some belated birthday wishes granted perhaps?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; domestic shower care (aww) and shower sex (hell yeah); feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, fingering, nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, handjob / blowjob (with tongue technology), f-receiving oral, doggy, spanking); idol!BTS; occurs the night of the 2021 Grammys

part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: MYG asks JJK to fuck you, again, let’s keep this going, oop JK dyed his hair blue; based on real time.

–

"I'm sorry you didn't win."

"It's okay. It was a long shot anyway."

"Well, you are good at basketball, so you can make a long shot, easy."

A deep, raspy chuckle. "Next time."

Water drummed against the tile, the rhythm interrupted by you working shampoo through black hair, conjuring fistfuls of lathered white clouds. The head lifted a little and you were about to chastise him, but one look into those black-brown eyes and small sheepish smile looking down at you, and you forgot what you were going to say.

"It was never about us anyway. We wanted to win so ARMY could brag about us."

You grinned, chuckling a little. "They always brag about you, Yoongi."

You saw something flit across his face, but he didn't say anything. You already knew. I wish you could brag about me. And you did, but not in the way he wanted, because he was Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, Agust D sometimes, and your secret all of the time. You closed the distance, a simple, sweet kiss in response to his wordless wish, I know, me too, hands curling in his soapy hair, smiling gently against his lips. Hm. You could feel Yoongi was thoroughly enjoying your wet breasts against his chest.

Something hard was poking you quite insistently.

You drew back a little and Yoongi's hands circled your waist, keeping your hips to him.

"Thought you said you were sleepy?" you teased.

Yoongi grinned slyly. "I changed my mind."

You chuckled, tipping his head back to rinse his hair off, forcing him to close his eyes with a displeased grunt. You could tell from his dark circles that he was tired from the stress of the day, having to wake up at two in the morning and be ready for his call time at five, but he still insisted for you to come, still insisted for you to sneak around and be here when he came home. You didn't get to see Yoongi on his birthday and not during the weekend before either. He was too busy filming content and preparing for the Grammys.

You did send him a voice message of you singing happy birthday and he replied with, thank you, my love, instead of the usual, you would benefit from a vocal coach, which meant he missed you far too much to tease you.

You carefully straightened his neck and Yoongi breathed out, raising a hand to push his black hair away from his face, slicking it back and exposing his forehead.

Oof.

Sexy.

Yoongi's eyes opened, dark brown orbs reflecting the mischief in his smirk.

"You sure you don't want me to call the maknae?" he asked not-so-innocently.

You narrowed your eyes at him. He knew what he was doing.

Your boyfriend had posted a selfie this morning, only to be followed up by Jeon Jungkook’s adorable pose in a colorful fluffy flannel shirt on Weverse. Earlier in the week, Jungkook had cutely invaded and sang happy birthday on Yoongi’s celebratory live, and then put up a picture of himself on his post for said hyung’s birthday.

The absolute gall of the Golden Maknae.

Needless to say, you were disappointed, but not surprised. Only slightly though. Jungkook was like that. A little bit – alright, a lot – of a naughty little shit that needed his cock brutally choked by your throat or pussy every once in a while. Actually, no, definitely both, just to be on the safe side. But this day was not that day.

"You said you wanted to be selfish today," was your calm response to Yoongi's question, reaching behind him to rinse off your hands, pressing your tits into his chest. Your eyes flickered up to his. Yoongi raised an eyebrow as your fingers trailed on his back, drawing small patterns.

"Has he been a bad boy?" he chuckled, referring to, of course, the shameless audacity of your other boyfriend, well-loved and doted-on Jeon Jungkook.

Your expression matched his, inquiring but already knowing the answer. A silent conversation between kindred souls that followed the same thought process. Closer, water gliding between your bodies, lips fitting against his, lightly nipping at his lower lip as if to say, we're both a little mean, Yoongi chuckling in agreement as he captured your lips forcefully. Hands all over wet bodies, pressing him to you and him reciprocating, hot water seeming hotter, steam getting steamier, kisses passionate and intense, Yoongi pushing you into the shower wall, not letting you get away.

Jungkook had known you were coming, but he wasn't allowed to attend this time.

He said he was tired from the events of today and he wanted you to spend time with Yoongi alone because it had been Yoongi's birthday recently and they should definitely get special treatment during their birthdays, right?

"I want special treatment on my birthday, so I suppose hyung should as well..."

"Ah, that's too bad, I was looking forward to punishing you."

"Noona...!" You could hear the shy pout in Jungkook's voice as it lowered, whispering into his phone. "Don't say stuff like that..."

You heard a sneaky cat-like purr in the background. "Say what?"

Jungkook started and you heard the violent rattle of the phone falling, followed by scrambles to retrieve it. Ah. You could see now why Jungkook's phone was taped.

"Hyung! Don’t... I thought you were still in the bathroom..."

"Mmm." You knew that what that hum meant. You've been on the phone for a while. And Jungkook had, lamenting that he wished they could have won the award and had a celebration live with ARMY and you had to reassure him over and over that there would be more chances and ARMY was already very proud with the nomination, yourself included.

"Uh... do you want to talk to hyung? He's here..." Jungkook did not sound like he wanted to give his phone up. He was only asking out of politeness.

"No, Jungkook, I'll see him in a bit."

"She said no, huh?" Yoongi mused and then you heard the sounds of footsteps wandering away.

Jungkook made a questioning noise, but you reoriented him rather quickly.

"I want to hear your voice some more, Jungkook." You recalled the opening of the Grammys 'Dynamite' performance and his teasing, cocky nose scrunch. "Was feeling rather sexy during the recording, weren't you?"

"You saw?" An edge of excitement to his tone. "That was for you, noona," he added playfully.

"No, it wasn't."

His faint, wicked snicker. "Okay, you're right, but I did think about you while doing it."

"Mmmhmm. What part of me? My smiling face or my warm mouth wrapped around your cock?"

"Noona!"

Alright, you did end up giving Jungkook a little bit of punishment, because neither you nor himself could help it. And at the very end, he played along, whining for you because he knew you wanted him to. Fuck, he was getting clever now, remembering all the things you liked. Stupid sexy Jungkook and his duality.

"Can't I come too? Please, noona?"

It took a lot of refuse his cute voice, but you did make a promise to Yoongi and you never broke your promises.

"Sorry, Jungkook, you're not allowed this time."

Reliving your memory was abruptly interrupted by two fingers sliding into your pussy.

"Excuse you," you muttered into Yoongi's lips.

"What are you thinking about that's gotten you so wet, hm?" he drawled, dripping water down your cheeks and chest, kissing from your lips and up your jaw, slowly working his fingers in and out, your wetness thicker, warmer than the water, leaking down his knuckles. His voice in your ear, low and dangerous, making you fall for him more and more. "Thinking about me or the maknae?"

...

Min Yoongi knew you too well.

"T-That's..."

Couldn't think of a smart comeback, not with Yoongi's voice so sensual and invasive, staring up at the hazy ceiling while he sucked on your ear, biting your lip to stifle your moans, nerves lighting with shivering arousal. His fingers controlled, measured, focused on deeply penetrating you to graze your favorite spots, rubbing your walls and pressing his thumb into your clit, slow circles causing throbs of pleasure to glide through you. Yoongi knew all the places that made you weak, licking right under your ear to make you whimper for him, kissing and sucking up and down the curve. The warm water created a steady hum, background music for his dirty words.

"Is that why Jungkookie ran so fast to the bathroom earlier today, hm? Mmm, you shouldn't mess with him so much. You should know better as his noona," Yoongi murmured softly, speeding up, catching your earlobe with his teeth and tugging on it, words slightly muffled as he continued, waves of heat flaring upwards with every thrust. "He'll keep teasing you, pretending it's for ARMY, and then when he has you next, he'll make you beg for his cock…" Teeth biting down, leaving a visible mark, his gravelly whisper sparking inhibitions.

"And I'm going to watch you."

Fuck you, Min Yoongi, for always knowing the right thing to say.

Yoongi flicked your clit and you cried out, bucking into his hand, almost losing balance, but his left arm came up behind the small of your back and held you in place, strong and unyielding, orgasm cut short with your sudden worry of straining his recovery, but Yoongi already knew, cooing comfortingly in your inflamed ear.

"I was dancing during the recording, remember?"

Right, he was cleared to dance, but still...

And again, Yoongi led you back into the proper headspace, kissing and nipping down your neck, tongue against your collarbones, stroking your side with his left hand as his right pushed in and out of you, building the pace and your needy gasps once more.

"Shh, you're a good girl, don't move and nothing bad will happen."

A tinge of menace in his voice, indicating the double meaning, I won't get hurt and maybe you won't get punished. Only a maybe though, sending a delighted spark up your spine, pressing your shoulder blades into the shower wall, instinctively raising one of your legs to give Yoongi more space. You glanced down, but he wasn't looking at you, eyes calmly closed, soaked black strands sticking to his forehead as his pink lips wrapped around one of your nipples. Instant pleasure from his expert tongue, teasing the moans of his name out of you, praising him, fuck yes, Yoongi, so good, I love this, fingers filling you repeatedly, thumb knuckle grinding onto your clit, sucking on your hard nipple. You were so focused on the feeling that your torso froze up, head and hands pressed into the wall, back arcing as you came, pulses of ecstasy enveloping you, but Yoongi didn't stop, forcing another finger inside your tight hole, whines in your throat as your shuddering pussy sucked it in, still riding waves of aftershocks.

His left hand slid up and pinched your ignored nipple.

"Yoongi, fuck...!"

You could only curse the gods that created the genius that was Min Yoongi, chuckling as he rubbed your left nipple, sucked on the right, thumb knuckle on your clit, three fingers fully stuffed inside you, so hard and so fast that his forearm was nearly vibrating. Too coordinated, too rough, too much, mind going blank, already orgasming, and again, and again, not stopping.

He was too good.

Yoongi wasn’t going to stop until you made him.

Your eyes rolled back, rocketing bolts of pleasure overtaking everything, entire body shaking and quivering with overstimulation, your own knuckles white because your fingers somehow curled into fists, moans rattling your chest as wave after wave of pleasure attacked you, pushing you to the brink of collapse.

"Y-Yoongi, oh, fuuuuuuuk, Yoongi!"

Your body made the executive decision for you, left hand shooting down and grabbing his forearm, gripping it tightly, gasping for air, making sure to keep his long fingers buried all the way inside, his hard muscle flexing under your palm. Fuck, so hot. Yoongi immediately stopped, detaching his mouth from your nipple, and you could barely protest, tremors thundering through your torso as your pussy spasmed and soaked his fingers with your sweet-sour juices, your inner muscles rapidly clenching and unclenching around him, his low moans filling your ears as he felt each strong pulse, stretching his fingers against your convulsing walls to amplify your pleasure and feel it all.

"Fuck..." Yoongi panted, leaning against you and your heaving chest. "Fuck, you're so pretty when you're wrecked."

His lips on your temple, kissing you fiercely, grinding his crotch into your hip and revealing how hard he was as you tried to come down, tried to calm your heart threatening to pound out of your chest. You turned your head to face him and he was there, devouring your lips with rough kisses, pulling his fingers out to tug and pinch at your nipples with his knuckles, smirking at your submissive whines, your hands wandering down and gripping his length, leisurely stroking him.

Now Yoongi was the one gasping into your mouth, switching to rubbing your hard sensitive nipples to coax you to do more, switching your positions in the shower so his back was to the water. The two of you were only half-finished washing up, but neither of you seemed to notice or care.

You backed up a little, breaking the kiss, seeing Yoongi’s dazed expression as you lightly cupped the head of his cock in your palm, gently rolling into the slickness, continuing for several seconds before adding a little more pressure. He inhaled sharply, pleading for more with his breathing alone. His chin was slightly tilted upwards, black hair sticking to his forehead, pink lips slightly parted, water trickling in rivets down his neck and chest.

Yoongi noticed you staring and gave you his trademark open-mouthed smirk.

Who taught Jeon Jungkook how to be hot as hell?

It had to have been Min Yoongi.

You mentally took note of this image of wet Yoongi so you could masturbate to it later.

He cocked a brow and you cocked one back, challenging him. Then you dropped to your knees, careful with the slippery floor, and yanked his hips to your face so he blocked all of the water with his body. His stiff length smacked you in the lips and smeared pre-cum on them. You heard Yoongi gasp and you looked up, seeing him watching you, expectation and hunger in his dark eyes.

You smirked, tongue snaking out and licking your lips to taste him.

“Is my good girl going to do all my favorite things?” he drawled in his extra-low octave.

Your pussy throbbed at his domineering tone. You didn’t have to say anything, your scorching gaze alone creating that amused smirk on Yoongi’s lips. I know what you want. One hand holding up his cock, leaning forward, and Yoongi groaned in satisfaction, your mouth sucking in one of his balls, your deft tongue circling the other in loud, messy slurps, suffocating one while licking the other. You flicked your wrist back and forth, pumping his cock as you worked his balls, lips tight and pulling slightly, tongue flexed and slapping against the other.

You looked up at Yoongi’s dilated pupils, knowing that he could see flashes of your pink tongue against his balls, your hand stroking him slowly and deliberately.

“You’re so good, fuck… So fucking good at that,” Yoongi panted. “Every other man in the world is jealous that they’re never going to get to experience this.”

You popped your mouth off, making him hiss with pleasure. “That’s not true. I’ll give it to Jungkookie eventually.”

“Ah, he’s lucky that I picked him.”

You raised your eyebrows, you picked him, uh huh, I was the one stalking him on Twitter, and Yoongi nudged you with his hips, eyes narrowing dangerously, put my balls in your fucking mouth, and you obeyed, switching to his right side and sucking it into your plush lips, tongue snaking out to lap at his left one, now pumping him with your dominant right hand. He sucked in a breath, moaning softly, clenching his jaw as you increased to his favorite pressure and speed.

“Fuck, yes, make me cum just like this,” he snarled, as much a plea as it was an order, rocking his hips a little so he tugged on his balls in your mouth, forcing you to suck harder and lick more roughly to keep him in place, obscene slurps adding another layer to the song that was the falling water, Yoongi’s moans, and the rapid slap-slap-slap of your hand furiously jacking off his twitching hardness. You glanced up at him and he was observing you closely, drinking in every second of your mouth, hand, and spread-open thighs as you kneeled for him, water dripping off your nipples and ass, groaning your name, tone saturated with lust.

“Ah, fuck, I love you so much, you look so fucking good like this…”

You could tell he was getting close with how shallow his breathing was becoming. Tighter, harder, so devoted to the cause that you were whimpering to add vibration to the multiple sensations, drunk on the taste of his skin and the scent of his pre-cum right next to your head, needing it, wanting it, right now, your eyes telling him, please Yoongi, cum for me, want you to cum for me so bad, and he bit his lip, tense growl contained in his throat that morphed into a drawn-out wail.

“Fuck, now, fuck!”

You abruptly pulled off his balls and Yoongi gasped, startled and confused as you quickly repositioned yourself so he shot thick strings onto your mouth, painting your red swollen lips with drizzles of white, up your cheek and onto your nose, dark eyes wide as he witnessed his indecent mark on you. Like something out of a literal porno, your lips coated with glossy lines of his semen. You looked up at him, still holding his cock, sinfully triumphant.

Your devious smirk covered in cum.

“You wicked, dirty woman,” Yoongi breathed in amazement.

His hand was travelling down so you removed yours, already guessing what was coming next. You placed your hands on your thighs, sinking into the softness as Yoongi groaned, wrapping his fingers around his cock, pumping himself slowly to the image of your cum-covered puffy lips, red and white, upper body tilted back so your hard nipples pointed upwards towards him, squeezing your breasts together with your arms while your hands kept your thighs spread, wet pussy exposed to him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, so hard you could see the flashes of veins standing out through his fingers. “You’re too much, too sexy, come closer so I can use that mouth.”

You scooted nearer and Yoongi pushed his cock into your lips, moaning as he watched his orgasm smear down his length and disappear with each centimeter his cock into your tight, hot mouth, your eyes taking in the jerks of his shoulders and slack jaw, forcing you to take him all the way to the base. He was so turned on that you knew he wasn’t going to last as long as he wanted, but there was no stopping him now, already shallowly thrusting. You knew how to make him pause though, tightly tensing your throat muscles around the tip. Yoongi threw his head back, your name a desperate whine.

“Please, shit, I’m so fucking sensitive, fuck…”

Slowly Yoongi’s head rolled back and you took the chance to slide your tongue out, hands coming up to cup his balls, licking them in playful figure-eights with his entire length crammed down your throat, barely able to breathe.

You didn’t care.

Yoongi was in literal heaven.

Swearing, gasping, moaning, enjoying it for a good twenty seconds before fitting his right hand behind your head, tangled in your wet hair.

“Hold me,” he gritted out. “Hold me so I can fuck your face.”

You backed up a little to take a deep lungful of air, placing your hands on his hips. There was so much adrenaline coursing through your veins that you didn’t even notice that your knees were screaming in pain, completely focused on getting your throat ready for Yoongi’s abuse.

Your eyes flickered up to him, giving him the signal.

Yoongi grinned and began to thrust into your mouth. You adjusted your neck a little and Yoongi hissed, the throbbing head of his cock now rubbing against the roof of your mouth with every slide down your throat, rolling his hips into your face. You could tell he wanted to keep it slow, but his body craved the speed and he finally gave in, fucking your face mercilessly, fast and rough, nearly choking you but not quite, and that was the best part, Yoongi always knowing the edge, always knowing how much you could take, chuckling darkly as your moaned around his cock, trying not to dig your nails into his skin.

“It’s okay, do it,” Yoongi nudged, devilish edge to his voice. “Do it. No one is going to look there.”

Eye contact.

You sure?

He ticked a brow.

How many people were going to look at his ass? Eh, he was right.

You sank your nails into his hips and dragged them down, creating red scratches around his crotch.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” Yoongi gasped with your name, urging you for more, you clawing at his ass as he forced himself between your tight lips, marking him up, praying no one was going to ask why his ass looked like a cat’s scratching post, but it was doomed, your cries vibrating his cock, Yoongi losing control, lustful shudder as his cock jolted in your mouth, spilling down your throat. You swallowed greedily, puffing breath around his thick length, sucking a little so you could feel every quiver, his taste strong and salty, so delicious that your pussy pulsated with satisfaction even through it wasn’t being stimulated.

You felt Yoongi caress your wet hair, soft praises floating down to your ears. You licked him delicately, ghosting your tongue around and around the head. He shivered, exhaling hard.

“Such a good girl, taking me so well…”

You felt his cock soften. You did what any sensible human would do and took him all the way in your mouth to bounce his balls with your tongue.

Yoongi chuckled.

“You’re crazy.”

You gave him your gurgled response with his dick still down your throat.

“You’re right, I do love it.” He tapped your cheek. “But the water’s getting cold, so let’s finish this shower and get into bed.”

“Yoongi?”

“Hm?”

“What happened to my ripped panties?”

“From last time? Don’t know. Jungkook had them in his pocket.”

You frowned, working product through your wet hair. “I hope he threw them away safely.”

Yoongi looked thoughtful. “Ah, is that what he snuck over to Jimin’s room for?”

“What?”

He shrugged. “It would be a good cover.”

You gawked at him.

Yoongi didn’t elaborate, going back to daintily and dutifully applying his skincare.

Get into bed.

This wasn’t exactly what you thought Yoongi meant, but you weren’t mad at it.

“Fuck, that’s so insanely hot…”

You were kneeling on the bed, chin on the pillows, knees spread, hands on your ass cheeks to spread your pussy open so your boyfriend Min Yoongi could watch you flex your wet opening.

At least he gave you time to blow-dry your hair before ordering you around.

For the moment, you were staring at the headboard, keenly concentrating on the exact precision and force needed to open and close with varying degrees. Most of the time, there was no need to be this focused, but Yoongi had asked for a show, so you were going to give him one. You could hear him slowly stroking himself, panting with exertion and awe. The bed sank a little as his weight was added, coming up behind you. Anticipation zipped through your veins, heartbeat spiking.

“A-ah!”

You felt a cold, fine spray on your ass and back. The fuck? Then the scent hit you, sudden citrus mixed with a verdant musk and the base of pine wood. On your skin, it immediately morphed, turning warmer, almost smokier, different than how it smelled on Yoongi. You twisted your head around, giving Yoongi’s smirking face a startled look.

“Did you just spray me with your cologne?”

He tucked his tongue between his neat white teeth. “No.” Which obviously meant yes.

You narrowed your eyes. “You shouldn’t do that. Someone might figure it out.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow underneath his fluffy black bangs. “I’m sure many people buy and wear my cologne, including women. Can’t keep anything a secret these days.”

There was a twinge of arrogance and wistfulness in his deep voice, but before you could break it down and ask, what about me, Yoongi leaned in and shoved his tongue into your pussy.

“F-fuck, Yoongi!”

His satisfied groan trembled through your nerves, igniting arousal and causing you to clench around his tongue involuntarily. He didn’t have to say it, both of you already thinking it, keep going, but now you were gasping, getting wetter and wetter with the addition of Yoongi’s tongue lazily sliding up and down as your muscles contracted and relaxed, letting him feel your skill and power, his moans vibrating through you from your core. It was already slick and getting slicker, Yoongi’s tongue gracefully sliding through your folds, thrusting into your hole, your juices like honey seeping onto his greedy mouth, so fucking good you didn’t need to control it anymore, it was just happening, and it took everything in you not to shove your ass into his face even though you wanted to, because you didn’t want to make any sudden movements and accidentally hurt him when he had already worked so hard today.

Yoongi chuckled.

“Fuck you,” you hissed, knowing he could see the strain in your arms and the tremble of your hips trying to keep your position as he sucked on your clit.

He removed his mouth and you grumbled in disappointment, cutting yourself off when you heard the distinct rip of a foil packet.

“No, fuck you.”

Yoongi said it as if he was telling someone the time and not about to forcefully plunge his dick right into where his mouth was a second ago.

“Ah, fuck yes, Yoongi…”

He sank right in, stretching you out deliciously, sighing as your wet walls molded around his cock, familiar and wonderful. You finally had the chance to remove your hands from your ass so you could hold yourself up, relieving some of the pressure on your poor knees.

“I’m choosing to ignore your disrespect,” Yoongi purred, placing his hands on your hips and bottoming out, his balls smacking your engorged clit roughly, earning a low hiss from your throat. Your fingers twisted into the sheets, breathing hard as your body adjusted. He was asking you how you wanted it. You clicked your tongue and turned your head back, seeing him watching you closely under his black hair shadowing his dark brown eyes.

“What a nice guy,” you remarked in a cool, defiant tone, borderline bored.

Come on, Yoongi, mess me up.

His lips curved into that devious, open-mouthed smirk you loved so much.

“Mhm.”

He slid out and slapped his crotch into your ass, hard.

“Yes, Yoongi, fuck!”

Your nails sank into your palms and you shoved your fists into the sheets, locking your upper body so you could push back into his rough thrusts, pleased grin on your lips, his perfect cock filling you over and over again, core tensed tight to feel all of him, the thick head forcing its way deep inside slick velvet, the rock-hard length twitching against each ridge, his balls bouncing against your inflamed clit, so full, so good, so intense that it almost hurt.

It wasn’t enough.

Panting hard, chest shuddering, you reached up and planted a hand flat against the headboard and clenched your jaw, bucking back into Yoongi’s crotch. His voice was mind-numbingly deep, full of desire and danger.

“Harder it is, my love.”

You smirked, then gasped as you felt the hot sting of Yoongi’s palm on your ass, the sound reverting against the apartment walls. He didn’t stop, fucking you hard into the bed and slapping your ass as you kept up with his pace, doing half the work for him so he could focus on each sharp spank to make your ass bounce on his cock, the bed screaming for you two to stop, but neither of you noticed, completely focused on chasing wild, feral pleasure, Yoongi growling your name and you moaning at his carnal tone, soaking his skin with thick, sweet-smelling juices, pussy violently massaging his length.

“That’s it,” Yoongi hissed, breathing rapid and shallow, ceasing his slapping of your red ass to seize your hips and fuck you even harder, digging his nails into your skin and marking you with his lust. “Feels so good fucking this perfect body just the way I like.”

Fuck, his voice, taking your heart and setting your world into lustful wildfire, no one like him, nothing like this, making you lose your mind and fuck back against him harder, the roller coaster climbing higher and higher and higher, Yoongi cursing under his breath, and you were so far gone that you almost didn’t pick up his words.

“Shit, Jungkookie would have loved watching you get wrecked by me.”

A low moan ripped from your throat, the thought of Jungkook’s needy voice and expression seeing you get pounded by Yoongi’s full strength, being told to watch and probably not being able to help touching himself, fuck, you wanted it, wanted Jungkook so bad at that very moment, wanted to show him how ruined you were, knowing he would love it, crave it, desire it, fuck, it was too much and you came hard, seeing stars, planets, fuck it, the whole fucking galaxy, fingernails curling into the headboard and whining at the sensitivity, body rolling onto Yoongi’s cock and squeezing it powerfully. Yoongi gasped out your name, grip tightening as he spilled into the condom, his length pulsating and twitching into your walls. You thought that was it, but Yoongi’s fingers snaked down between your legs.

“Oh, fuck, Yoongi, Yoongi, fuck!”

He roughly rubbed your aching clit with two fingers, forcing you to cum again around his cock, moaning loudly with every convulsion of your overstimulated pussy, viscous juices clinging to the insides of your joined thighs, completely defeating the purpose of the fucking shower, but neither of you seemed to remember that, Yoongi too busy using his last ounce of strength to push you to your limit, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves and vibrating his fingertips against it, your eyes rolling back and spine clattering as another orgasm blasted through you, up your torso and straight to your head, numbing pleasure overtaking everything, arm going slack and forgetting to hold yourself up, hand slipping on the headboard, fatigue finally having its way.

Yoongi was quick to slide his hand up your belly and keep you up, wiry strength of his right arm balancing between your breasts to prevent you from falling into the bed.

“Holy f-fuck…”

The words sounded far away even though they were yours, the resounding beat in your ears being your pulse trying to catch up, nerves tingling all over, acutely aware of the tiny flinches gliding across your skin, aftershocks of a particularly explosive orgasm. Your pussy was still throbbing around Yoongi’s spent cock, locking him in your embrace. You planted your hands onto the bed and lifted yourself up rather shakily, taking the burden off Yoongi’s arm.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked, caressing the underside of your breast lightly.

You had the energy to raise one hand and give him a thumbs-up.

He rapped your ribcage. “Stop that.”

You chuckled, finding your voice a bit hoarse. “Why? You always do it in pictures.”

You heard Yoongi mumble disapprovingly behind you. “Is that why you do that? To make fun of me when I take photos?”

“Almost eight years of being an idol and you still don’t know what to do with your hands in pictures,” you teased.

He pinched your nipples roughly and you yelped.

“I know what to do with my hands around you,” Yoongi growled, rubbing them between his fingertips, your moans radiating off his walls. “And that’s what matters.”

interlude 20210419 drabble — “This is not allowed, you two.”

part vi “Shh, you’re not allowed to tell anyone.”

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #bts smut #suga x you #yoonkook x reader #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut

508 notes · View notes

whumpurr · 3 years

Text

Adrien and Sawdust part 6

cw: pet whump, whump recovery, bodily mutilation, self harm, brief and vague mention of past noncon, dehumanization, conditioned whumpee, unreliable narrator, brief mention of dissociation

masterlist

Sawdust was searching for his bag the second Master was gone. He hopped out of bed, punctuated with a fit of dizziness as he got to his feet, and crawled around the room looking for his duffel bag. The bright blue bag was nowhere to be found, and Sawdust wasn’t great at seeing in the dark either.

He started to wonder, to second guess himself. Did Master put the bag somewhere in the room and Sawdust just isn’t seeing it? Is he overlooking it? Did he even have a bag at all? Did it come with him to this new house, or was it left with his previous master? No, no, he remembered seeing it next to his kennel with those other people.

If he left the room now, Master would surely hear it and question him, or worse, punish him for disturbing his sleep. As much as Sawdust wanted his ears back, he just had to trust that Master would return them in due time.

Sleeping was difficult without the familiar squeeze of his headband around his head, but with a full stomach he managed to eventually fall asleep even if it took a while.

Sunlight came all too soon for Sawdust. The light peeked through the curtains and he couldn’t physically sleep any more. He was dreading going downstairs and having to face his master, having to eat beside him. He could only imagine what his master was going to do to him. Would he record him? Bring his friends over and show him how pathetic and stupid he looked eating out of a bowl on the floor? Sawdust shook himself out of his thoughts; he was just a dog anyways, he shouldn’t have enough of an ego to be embarrassed.

He was getting himself out of bed, going down onto his hands and knees when he heard a soft knock on the door, followed by Master’s quiet voice.

“Sawdust?” Master said from the other side of the heavy wooden door. “Come on, let’s go get some food.”

Sawdust got to the door and opened it with his paw, stepping out and following Master.

Master gave him a bowl of dog food once he was downstairs. Sawdust half contemplated asking Master about his ears, but really, if Master had taken them away then it was because Sawdust did not deserve them any more.

“Master,” Sawdust murmured, “Is- is there anything your pet can- can do? To assist?”

Master looked thoughtful for a moment then laughed, laughed at Sawdust.

“I think my work stuff is a bit advanced for you,” Master took a bite of his own food, “I want you to focus on… recovery, for now. Okay? That means you rest up and come get me if you want anything, food, water, whatever.”

Sawdust nodded, “Yes, Master,” before he continued eating, the hard kibble crunching satisfyingly between his teeth. He couldn’t work up the courage to ask Master about the ears or his bag, or where they’ve gone.

Lunch and dinner went similarly, with Master coming, getting his pet, and taking him downstairs to eat. Each time Sawdust couldn’t work himself up enough to ask Master about his ears. The lack of his ears made Sawdust feel… Wrong. Like he wasn’t a real dog, like he was a subpar pet. He wasn’t good enough to this new Master who had otherwise been so kind to him. What had he done to deserve this?

Night eventually fell, and Sawdust did his best to do as Master said and get to sleep. He curled up in the nest of blankets and pillows that his Master had made in the corner for him, and let himself begin to drift off. As he was doing so, he couldn’t help but wonder why his Master was withholding his belongings from him. Nevertheless, his eyelids grew heavy, and he eventually fell into a deep sleep.

Adrien was still getting accustomed to feeding someone using a dog bowl, with dog food, on the floor. It was a strange experience, and doing it made him feel dirty, but it was all Sawdust was going to accept so if it was between that or making the pet starve again, he would have to go with the former.

He was still very aware of just how lost he was in all of this. He searched the internet and scoured his social media for something that could give him some kind of life preserver in all of this. Finally, finally, he found something. A chatroom for pet owners. From the looks of it, it was heavily moderated and geared more towards pet liberation activists, and pet rehabbers, and people who actually cared for their pets. He requested to join and was accepted within the hour. He immediately sent a message to the ‘help’ section.

Adrien: >> Hey guys, I’m a new owner and I didn’t do as much research as I should have. >> Long story short, I didn’t keep as close an eye on my pet as I should’ve, and he ended up not eating because I wasn’t giving him dog food. Is that a normal thing? How can I help him?

It wasn’t five minutes before one of the other owners responded,

1Y4N4: >> oof, thats no good dude.. definitely watch him harder and probably just stick to feeding him what he wants for now. u said hes new right? let him stay in his comfort zone for a little bit probably

Adrien: >> Thanks. I’ll do that.

1Y4N4: >> np, im a bit more experienced as an owner but i dont think mine were as conditioned as urs >> at least not in that way

Zo: >> Bro wtf? You’re the source of your pet’s whole life and shit, you really should’ve done more research.

Adrien sat and watched as this ‘Zo’ person continued to rip into Adrien for his irresponsibility, though the ‘1Y4N4’ user at least tried to defend Adrien. It wasn’t long before Zo quieted down and 1Y4N4 was able to speak up again,

1Y4N4: >> lots of actual dogs eat things that arent dog chow >> maybe show your pet some videos of people feeding their dogs other stuff, maybe hell be more open then

Adrien thanked the user, and used the rest of his evening compiling some videos and researching, finding the outer bounds of what dogs could eat in hopes that he could convince Sawdust. It was far from exactly what he wanted, but he felt some semblance of satisfaction that there was at least a way to progress forwards.

Sawdust finally came up with a plan when he was coming out of the bathroom the next morning. It was before Adrien had gotten up. As Sawdust was leaving the bathroom, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

His hair was all matted, and the fringe at his forehead was beginning to grow to hide his eyes. He looked lacking without his ears. There were deep circles under his eyes. At least the peaks of his cheeks and his lips were starting to regain some color now that he had a steady supply of food which he undoubtedly did not deserve. The scratched scar across his nose bridge and cheek that one of the other dogs gave him was still there. He looked at that and followed it across his face to his second ears.

His dumb second ears, the ones on either side of his head that his last master hated so much. His previous master had always told him that they made him look less like a dog, less like a pet, when a pet was all Sawdust ever wanted to be. Because if he wasn’t a pet, then he was a toy for both Master and the other dogs, and that was one step above the most reprehensible thing he could be. He had been downgraded to ‘toy’ for a short amount of time previously, and he was eternally grateful that he was never dropped even lower, to being nothing but food for the other dogs.

Master threatened that sometimes, chopping him up and feeding him to the other dogs.

Whenever Sawdust looked at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help imagine it. Being cut up and thrown to other animals to eat. He found some part of himself that felt that- even if he could never do anything else right- he could do that right. He tried to halt that train of thought as quickly as he could, before his mind shunted him off to some dark, foggy place where he couldn’t think or feel until the bad thoughts went away.

But at the root of those thoughts, he found the problem, as well as the solution. He scrambled down to the kitchen as fast as he could go, wanting to work quickly before he could stop himself.

He got to the kitchen sink, and stood up on trembling, unused legs. They could hardly support his weight, he had to lean onto the granite countertop with his elbows as he reluctantly removed the tape from his paws using his teeth. He would need his fingers for this.

Sawdust’s breath was quick in his throat, the edges of his vision grew blurry as he tried to focus on this and only this. He had one task and he was not going to fail it. He wanted his ears back. He wanted his master to be happy with him again. Maybe this way he could earn his master’s attention and... Maybe even his affection, if a pet was allowed to hope.

Sawdust’s paws were shaky and clumsy as they took out the biggest knife out of the wooden blog. It was heavy and cold in his paw. With one paw he held the tip of one of his second ears and pulled it as far away from his head as he could.

The cold edge of the blade rested on his skin, at the valley between his second ear and his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, he couldn’t break down now, he couldn’t stop now. He took a deep, sharp breath and pressed down on the knife as hard as his feeble paws could.

Adrien shot out of bed to the sound of a piercing, howling scream from downstairs.

taglist: @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi@neuro-whump @whump-me-all-night-long @cupcakes-and-pain @whumpzone @whumpcreations @dancinglifeboat @pinkraindropsfell @looptheloup @cowboy-anon @meetmeinhellcroutons @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @firewheeesky @maracujatangerine

#whump #whump recovery #pet whump #whumpee #whump scenario #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #whump blog #adrien and sawdust #my writing #whump fic #whump story #pet whumpee

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

Okay so pro hero kiri has this big fat crush on his co worker! Reader who unintentionally rejecting his moves on her because she is so shy and awkward but slowly she shown some signs that she is into him so he changes tactics and acts more romantic which adds bonus points once he sees her blush when she reads the note attached to a deep red rose! fast forward to a couple of months of pinning and he is getting very frustrated especially with her enticing soft curves of her body so (1/2) 🌠 anon

oof okay listen!!!! open ur ears!!! I have something to say

(Warnings - stalking, Somnophilia, dubcon, NSFW, unsafe sex, blood from a bite wound but it’s very brief lol)

You’re a little paper pusher at his agency, you barely even interact with the big man, but he always makes time to swing by your desk and chat for a bit before he heads home.

Unfortunately, you’re about as smooth as a piece of burnt toast. His casual flirting goes right over your head, and you keep rejecting his advances and it’s so fucking frustrating. Can’t you see how hard he’s fallen for you? Kiri doesn’t understand why you look away whenever he bends down to rest his elbows on your desk, giving you the perfect view down his shirt to see his fat pecs (the man knows he’s got a banging’ body okay). He doesn’t get why you shy away from his touch when he tries to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

Kirishima can’t comprehend why you always turn him down when he mentions going out with you and some other co-workers (to make you feel more at-ease, he knows he can be intimidating) for drinks or a bite to eat.

He’s stressed - the man really wants to get to know you, but it’s like you’re completely oblivious to his intentions. He’s pretty sure you just see him as a goofy extroverted coworker that loves people. After all, he does stop and say hi to several other people every day as he makes his way over to your desk.

So Kirishima decides to up his game. Starts making his feelings obvious. He gets more touchy, perching on your desk to reach and rub your shoulders, laughing at your jokes and (gently) smacking a hand against your leg like a giggly schoolgirl. He talks about his workout routine and asks you if you think his muscles have been getting bigger. Could you check? Just with a hand around his bicep of course.

He buys a few gifts here and there; a cup of coffee for you with his number on the lid, a new pen when he noticed your favorite one broke, cute socks because he’s seen you wearing cute ones before, and he saw them and thought of you.

Each and every gift is accepted with the biggest blush he’s ever seen. You turn beet red, flush stretching down your neck and disappearing underneath your shirt. Kirishima chides himself for wanting to see how far the flush went, for wanting to rip off your shirt and bend you over right here and now.

But he didn’t like you just for your body, and he was willing to wait.

Kirishima feels emboldened by the success of his other gifts, so he decides to write out his feeling in a note, get you a bunch of flowers, and present them to you Friday night. That way, you’d have time to think things over and process your own feelings before you saw Kiri again on Monday. To him, it seemed like the perfect plan.

And god, you were so cute when he gave you the flowers, he wanted to kiss you on the nose and then taste your lips, right then and there.

But he didn’t.

He gave you a soft pat on the back before walking away. He was around the corner before he heard you gasp, which immediately made him backtrack and peek his head out so he could see you. Was it a good gasp? Or a bad gasp?

You had a little smile on your face, eyes twinkling as you read the note.

Kirishima pumped his fist, heart soaring. He finally got through to you.

Except he hadn’t.

On Monday, you didn’t say anything to him, hardly even looked at him. When he came by your desk to ask what you thought of the note, all he got was a fierce blush and mumbled sentences, before you bolted off to the bathroom.

It’s like he was back at square one.

It made Kirishima feel... inadequate. His old middle-school insecurities came creeping back into his life. Was he not good enough? Was he just too boring and dull and you didn’t know how to tell him without hurting his feelings? What was wrong with him?

But he was an adult now, he could handle rejection.

The thing is, you weren’t rejecting him.

You baked him cookies, dropping them off in his office while he was out, but they had your name on them and the most adorable little note, and Kirishima’s heart almost exploded. Plus, they tasted delicious.

He got a text from you one night, a cute picture of a spiky red dog and a “this reminded me of you... Sleep well! <3″ and he spent the rest of the night imagining your wedding.

You kept showing signs that you were interested, yet you wouldn’t even look at him in person. Kirishima concluded that you were just too shy.

That was okay. He realized that the more time he gave you, the more you opened up to him. Maybe in a few months, the two of you could go on a date or something!

In the meantime, the man liked to check up on you, make sure you were safe. He was invested in you now, subtly following you home some nights to make sure nobody looked at you wrong.

He broke into your apartment quite often, but it was entirely justifiable! He wasn’t being a creep (okay, well, maybe just a little), he was just being a good friend, a good coworker. He had to make sure everything was safe, that no one could get in (other than him), that you hadn’t left a candle burning or the stove going.

You slept like a rock, staying asleep even when Kirishima accidentally knocked a cup off your counter and broke it. To his surprise, there was no awakening, no screaming, yelling for him to get out or that he was a weirdo. Just you, snoring in your bed, a tiny bit of drool at the side of your mouth.

It was such a domestic scene, it warmed Kiri’s heart.

Sometimes the man liked to slip into bed beside you, frame creaking under his weight. It was a tight squeeze-he was a large man and your bed was made for one (1) person, but Kirishima didn’t mind. It just meant he got to press close to you, feel the warmth of your smaller body, hear your quite little huffs and snores and mumbles as you slept.

He let himself relax, sink into the mattress. The next time he crawled into your bed, he let himself wrap an arm around you. The time after that, Kirishima felt brave enough to scooch under the covers, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he found that your pajamas consisted of a giant shirt and panties.

Bare legs.

Glad that he wasn’t a teenager anymore, he didn’t have to worry about cumming in his pants. Still, he found himself leaving your apartment with a chubbed-up cock more often than not.

You were just so soft. He wanted to touch all of you, to lick all over and get your plush flesh in-between his teeth. He wanted to bite into your shoulders as he fucked you into the mattress, pumping you with load after load of cum, until your stomach was swollen and you cried because you felt sick.

But Kirishima also wanted to hold you close, take showers together and wash your hair for you, make coffee in the morning and talk about last night’s episode of “Chopped”. He wanted to give you sappy smooches before getting to work, make you laugh with goofy jokes and give you hugs, pick you up and twirl you around whenever he saw you after being apart, no matter if it were days or minutes.

The nasty, dirty thoughts warred with the soft, gentle ones. Sometimes they mixed, Kirishima daydreaming of sweet, romantic sex.

He just wanted you so bad.

One night, he’s crawled into bed with you like usual, rubbing a sock-clad foot over your bare legs, pressing chaste little kisses to the top of your head as he draws you into his arms. It was nigh impossible to wake you, so he felt no fear or apprehension in taking such bold actions.

Shuffling in your sleep, you throw a leg over his hip, snuggling deeper into the solid warmth that is his body. Kiri sighs, contented.

And then you start making noises.

Little huffs of breath, tiny whimpers, and when Kirishima looks down, your eyebrows are drawn up. You twitch against him, against the thick thigh that you had slung your leg over, and then repeat the motion.

You’re.... You’re having a wet dream.

Kirishima lets out a shaky breath, trying to focus so he doesn’t crush your arm with his excited grip. You’re rutting against him steadily now, dragging your damp cunt against his leg, sighing at the friction, lips parted.

His cock is rapidly hardening, and he wants to rub himself against your stomach, feel the cling of his shirt as he rucks it up with his rhythmic humping. But he doesn’t.

He’s a gentleman, he wouldn’t take advantage of you like that. You’re just having an unconscious reaction to a man being in your bed. Maybe further down the road, when he’s taken you on many romance-filled dates, then he can lay you down and whisper into your ear how much he loves you while the two of you make love.

The man is so taken with that fantasy that he almost misses the gentle gasp of a name falling from your lips.

But he didn’t, because it was his name.

A shiver ran through him; excitement? fear of you waking up? He didn’t know. When he checked your face, you were still asleep, letting out those little whimpers and moaning his name quietly.

God was real.

God was real, and he had made angels, and you were one of them.

And lord forgive him, because Kirishima was about to sin.

How could he hold himself back? You were humping his leg, moaning his name and panting, in your sleep. You wanted him, you were just too shy to initiate or accept Kiri’s advances.

Theres no way he’s holding himself back.

Covers are thrown off, Kirishima quickly detaching from you (oh how he missed your warmth immediately) to shuck off his clothes, almost falling on his face as he ripped off his socks.

Then he’s looming over you, quickly pulling up your shirt, lifting your head gently, guiding your arms out. Your panties came off next, slid down your legs with shaky, excited hands.

Kirishima wanted to worship you. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, laid there on the bed, whining in your sleep for him, thighs rubbing together. He felt himself salivating, jaw itching to open and clamp down, to eat you whole. He wanted all of you.

Climbing back on the bed, Kiri pumped his cock a few times, precum flowing from the tip helping to smooth the way. He was going to fuck you now.

No preamble, the man just spread your legs, settling between them. A quick rub of your pussy with his fingers had him finding it already drenched, and he groaned quietly, the hand around his cock moving faster.

He shifted back slightly, only far enough to lift your legs, pressing your thighs up and back towards your chest. Your breathing changed slightly, but Kirishima wasn’t paying attention to that now. He didn’t care if you woke up now, you had just been dreaming about him. He was your wet dream come true, you’d surely appreciate how good he was about to make you feel.

Lining up was a bit more difficult than Kirishima was used to - he’d never been this excited to fuck someone in his life, hands trembling, heart beating out of his chest, sweat slicking his skin. But then the tip of his fat cock slipped inside, stretching you open, and all was right in the world for Kirishima.

He wanted to slam home, to push and push until he was balls deep and his tip was kissing your cervix. But he held himself back - he hadn’t stretched you, and he didn’t like the idea of hurting you in that way, he wanted your first time with him to feel good.

So he went slow, pushing inside an inch, waiting. Pushing another inch, then waiting. Waiting waiting waiting, he almost couldn’t rein in his desires. But he did, for you.

“Kiri?” You mumbled, eyes fluttering open. Kirishima wasn’t expecting you to speak so clearly, hips jumping forward, seating himself the rest of the way inside your heavenly warmth as the man swore.

“Kiri?” Clearer now, with a hint of panic. Kirishima looked up, and you were fully awake now, looking at the man with wide eyes.

“Hey baby.” He whispered, smiling gently. Your hands rose, one resting against his bicep, the other settling on his chest, and he shivered at your touch, at the feel of your tiny little hands on his flesh.

“What’s-? When did you....?” It was so cute, the confused scrunch of your face. You were still fighting the mist of sleep, blinking owlishly up at the man on top of you. Fear hadn’t kicked in, although it was simmering underneath the surface.

“Hey, shhh. Don’t worry, I’m here. Gonna make you feel the best, you’re my pretty little girl, know that? I’ve been waiting so long for you.” He whispered, swooping down for a gentle kiss.

You didn’t fight him, just accepted the lips pressing against yours with confusion. It probably felt like you were still in a dream, hazy and relaxed.

Kirishima couldn’t wait anymore, his cock was throbbing, your insides were molten and he felt like he was going to explode. He wanted, no, needed to move.

His first thrust was small, just a quick schlick out, and the same noise when he pushed back in. You were sopping wet, and the slide made it easy for him to move. Even more proof that you wanted this.

You gasped, eyes fluttering closed as you pulled away from the kiss. Kiri huffed out a joyful, breathless laugh as he thrusted again, sparks of pleasure lighting up in his gut.

“Mm, Kiri wait-” You moaned, nails digging into his bicep and chest. Kirishima ignored you, speeding up, trying to angle his hips to find your sweet spot. One of his hands held your hip, the other brushing your hair out of your eyes as he cooed at you. “Pretty baby, my beautiful girl. You’re making me feel amazing, love you so much. Feeling good? I can feel you trying to milk my cock. You want my cum?”

Dazed, assaulted by so many sensations straight out of sleep, you couldn’t exactly grasp what was going on. But Kirishima’s question snapped you fully awake, and you squirmed against his body. “No, no, don’t do that.” You mumbled.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. I’m gonna pump you nice and full, you’ll feel all warm and round. Look so cute like this.” He grunted, going harder and harder with his hips.

Then he angled just right, striking your sweet spot, and you cried out in pleasure, bucking your hips involuntarily. “Mm, there we go. Feels good, doesn’t it honey?”

It was a rhetorical question - you were too busy writhing on Kirishima’s cock to answer, one of his hands pressing flat over your stomach to feel the subtle bulge of his cock as he fucked into your guts.

“Oh Kiri! Wait, I’m not-! Wait!” You whimpered, steadily reaching your orgasm. You didn’t want to cum, you needed to slow down and gather your wits, figure out what was happening and why Kirishima was here and when this had started and-

Kiri pulled out, quickly manhandling you as if you weighed nothing. He was so strong, it was easy for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling you to your hands and knees.

“Gonna fuck you full. You’re gonna take all of my cum, gonna get bred like a good girl, my good girl.” His teeth were clenched as he slid back home, hissing as your wet heat welcomed him. You whined at the pleasurable sensation, unable to stop your hips from fucking back, trying to take more of his cock.

“Ohhh, fuck yeah, look at you. Knew you wanted this, wanted me. You’re so perfect, taking my cock so well. You like having my fat cock filling you up? Messing up your insides? Making you all wet and sloppy?”

His hand found its way to your clit, the area already wet from the copious amounts of slick and precum the two of you had produced. Kiri quickly began rubbing large circles over your button, thumb big and calloused and oh so good.

Kirishima’s other hand grabbed at your chest, attaching to your tit and pawing at you. He was quickly devolving into a feral man, animalistic in the way he fucked you, thrusts harsh and fast and too much but hitting you just right-

You cried out as you came, convulsing in the man’s arms at the strength of the orgasm he ripped from your body.

He didn’t take a second, spurred on by your orgams and the tightening of your cunt, and instinctively bit down on your shoulder, almost growling as he pounded into you.

“Fuck, fuck! Kiri ouch, fuck!” You yelped, his sharp teeth breaking skin.

The man paid you no heed, rabbiting his hips until he started to cum, his hot seed flowing into your pussy. His hips kept going, twitching as they slowed down until they stopped completely, both of you absolutely spent.

Nothing but the sounds of panting filled the air, and Kirishima finally unhooked his teeth from your shoulder, wincing at the stream of blood the started to roll down your back.

“Oh, baby m’sorry.” He mumbled, a bit drunk off the pleasure still coursing through his veins. You collapsed forward, his arms no longer holding you up.

Kirishima didn’t pull out as he laid down next to you, keeping your hips firmly cemented to his own so that none of his cum would escape, pulling you close to his body in the process. “Pretty baby, I love you. Thank you.”

It was just a dream, it had to be. You were left with no choice but to console yourself with that thought, unable (and unwilling) to think of any other possibilities.

A wet tongue lapped at your back, Kirishima licking up the blood from the wound he inflicted. “I’ll be more gentle next time, I can be good with my teeth, I promise.”

You ignored him, letting your exhausted self flicker between awake and asleep, confused, disoriented, overwhelmed.

What did he mean by “next time”?

#yandere kirishima eijirou #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere kirishima #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader #Kirishima Eijirou #mha kirishima #kirishima #yandere bnha #dark kirishima #tw dubcon #tw noncon

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Amoreena | Chapter two

Chapter Two

summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers

word count: 6k

a/n: this is set May 2021 in my brain just in case anyone was wondering while reading it !! here is the pinterest board and the spotify playlist for the fic too!

from the beginning <3

They were sitting on the steps of the Smithsonian when he arrived. Y/N was a vision in a yellow blouse and blue jeans, basking in the sun's rays when she looked more like sunshine herself, throwing seed at the birds with Amoreena.

He took a deep breath and smiled, waving to get their attention.

“Spencer!” Amoreena cheered, running down the steps and into his arms. Almost knocking her hat off as she leapt into his arms.

“Oof,” is all he can say as he makes sure to catch her, surprised to get this sort of reaction from someone.

She fixes her hat and leans back in his arms, “do you like my outfit? I’m the old man from Tarzan and mom is Jane!”

He sets her down then, watching her stick a foot out so he can get a good look at her olive-coloured jean shorts, button-up shirt and blue bowtie and brown boots. She went all out for her adventure today, making his heart burst.

“I looked into that Milo guy,” he says, showing off his own outfit. Pushing his glasses up and adjusting his red bowtie.

“You look just like him!!!” She was beyond excited, turning to Y/N who was all smiles on the steps.

She stood as they walked towards her, “mom look, he’s Milo!”

“You look great,” she complimented him, that twinkle in her eyes back as she blushed.

“Thank you, so do you,” he said softly. “Both of you are dressed for the right adventure today.”

“What do you have in store Mr. tour guide?” Y/N teased, taking Amoreena’s hand and walking into the museum.

“Dr. Tour guide,” he corrects her softly, making her smile and shove him lightly.

“Sorry,” she teased him, “Doctor tour guide, what is your plan for today?”

“I bought 3 tickets ahead of time,” Spencer admits, taking three lanyards out of his jacket pocket and handing them each one. “We have special access today, just show the guards these and we can go almost anywhere.”

“Are you sure you don’t work here? Not even undercover?” Amoreena interrogated him, narrowing her eyes as she watched his response.

He laughed, “I promise, I helped them on a case once, and my old boss knows the curator, they owed me a favour.”

“Old boss?” Y/N catches it.

He nods lightly, “he quit a while ago to have a family.”

“Smart man.”

“I sent in my letter of resignation last night,” he adds, “if you’re still looking for a literary historian?”

She beamed at him, reaching out an arm to tuck under his and pull him in close. Following him through the doors with Amoreena’s hand still in hers. “I’ll arrange an interview this week.”

The rotunda was one of the coolest parts of the Smithsonian Museum of National History. A beautiful African Bush Elephant greets them in the centre, tusks extending out towards them as Amoreena gasps.

“Wow,” her small voice whispers.

“Cool, huh?” Spencer leans to look at her expression, she’s absolutely gobsmacked.

It makes him smile, that beautiful glimmer of amazement spreading across her face as her small brain tries to understand what exists in the world outside of her mind's grasp. It was priceless, he loved every moment.

“So, I was thinking you could look around and whenever you’re ready, we have access to the Student Centre. You’re going to get to look at some special bones and fossils, and even dig some up!” He was so excited to share the plans with her.

She let go of her mom's hand to flap her arms wildly, excitement coursing through her veins as she shook, grinding her teeth together as she smiled, it was how he remembered feeling as a child when something good happened. Pure joy, excitement level 1000.

“Sound good?”

“Spencer,” Y/N placed her hand on his shoulder, taking over for the speechless child, “that sounds perfect, thank you.”

“The Dino’s are this way,” he leads them down the corridor, through a set of doors towards a large swirling sign,

“Journey through deep time!” Y/N read the sign, smiling at Amoreena as she ran towards it, touching the swirl as she read all the words to herself.

“It’s so sad they died,” Amoreena says so matter of factly that it makes him bite back a smile.

“Yeah,” he agrees with a small laugh. Y/N's shaking her head with a sigh of pure love. “What kind of dinosaur is your favourite?”

“The Jurassic era,” she responds, standing closer to the sign and reading all the words. “Did you know the earth used to be mostly desert? There was a massive heatwave, that’s why they believe dinosaurs were most likely scaled but thanks to the melting ice caps as we recover from the ice age and move back towards being tropical, we’re discovering dinosaurs frozen in ice with feathers and fur!”

It takes his breath away, seeing someone so much like him with a mother who loves every single word that leaves her mouth. Pride on her face as she looks at her little genius and back towards Spencer, waiting for his response.

“So you’ve been a paleontologist this whole time and you never told me?”

She laughs and swats the air, “no, I just read a lot of books.”

“She can read really fast, like Matilda,” Y/N bragged.

“I do too,” Spencer knelled down in front of her. “It’s a very wonderful thing to have a brain as big and magical as ours, never let anyone tell you otherwise okay?”

“Never, I’m the smartest in the kingdom,” Amoreena smiled.

“Yes, she is,” Y/N smiled again, placing her hand on Spencer's back as they continued to walk around the exhibits.

He felt like he had a family, like one of those couples who would go to Ikea and pretend they lived in the sets. This was the most perfect make-believe day of his life, leading a child just like him through a world of things she loved.

Y/N was quiet most of the day, watching them interact with a soft smile and sad eyes. Spencer noticed it but let it slide, he’d ask her about it later when she could be honest with him. He didn’t want to profile her, it wasn’t fair to judge her before he knew her, nor taint the fantastical thoughts he already had about her.

They had lunch in the butterfly exhibit, sitting at the seat by the fountain, Amoreena asking nicely if Spencer could sit in the middle so they could both talk to him. It was adorable, Amoreena was so intrigued by his mind she couldn’t stop asking him questions.

Y/N made him a sandwich and brought him a water bottle, as well as bringing some apple slices and grapes, goldfish and juice boxes for when Amoreena got hungry on the way home. Like a true mom, her purse was full of napkins and hair ties, random books and toys. Rocks, pine cones, everything a young mind would find exciting.

She was like Marry Poppins, pulling everything and then some out of her purse as she searched for something specific. “I brought you something, I’ve had it sitting around the house just moving it to different spots over the years, and thought you’d like it.”

It made him giddy to know she was thinking about him, he couldn’t sit still as he anticipated what it was. She pulled a small metal pin out of her bag then, taking the backing off and clipping it to his pocket.

“Best tour guide ever,” she whispered, reading the words to him with a smile.

“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet,” he shrugged, pushing down the butterflies in his stomach as they were swarmed by the beautiful creatures.

“It’s like animal crossing in here,” Amoreena said to herself as she looked around, kicking her feet as she sat on the bench, tilting her head back and forth absentmindedly as she took it all in.

He wasn’t sure when he stopped doing that; when he started to mask his true self so much that he no longer felt free in public, taking a moment to copy her movements and just enjoy the moment. Making her smile as she noticed him copy her with adoration, not to tease her in any way whatsoever.

“Can we talk when she’s looking at the fossils?” He asks Y/N softly, knowing that she’ll be the most open when Amoreena’s tiny ears wouldn’t be there to remember everything she says.

“Yeah,” she nods with a small smile. “How about I throw out our garbage and we head to that surprise?”

Amoreena jumped off the bench, tugging Spencer towards the door as Y/N cleaned up, following them eventually.

—

They had the classroom all to themselves and Amoreena was still for the first time all day. Standing in the middle of the room as the lights adjusted, changing the glow from blue to amber as they warmed.

The walls were filled with posters and informative signs, there were glass cases showcasing all the finest fossils and bones known to man. And a sand table in the middle of the room, smocks and brushes for archaeology all set up and waiting for her.

“Once you get all suited up, and we’ll get you a little mask so you don’t breathe in any of the dirt and dust, you can dig up whatever is hidden in there!” Spencer announced.

Y/N helped her into a smock, handing her the brushes and asking her to be extra careful with the plastic chisel and hammer. She was beaming from ear to ear the most toothy smile he’s ever seen.

Y/N stopped to take a photo of her then, holding her instruments in front of the sand table, “get in, we’ll tell everyone that Milo took us on a special tour today.”

Spencer kneeled close to Amoreena, she leaned in and wrapped an arm around him to get him in closer, always being the one to choose how much contact she made with Spencer. He would never want to overstep with someone else’s child.

“Beautiful!” Y/N cheered, locking her phone and slipping it back into her jeans as Amoreena turned to the table of sand, dirt and clay.

She got right to work, not skipping a beat as she leaned in and started to dig. Spencer stepped back with Y/N, knowing Amoreena was going to be in her own little world for as long as they left her alone.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great, I’m just a little surprised,” her voice is soft, low enough that it stays with him. “You’re really good with her for a fed.”

He laughed, nodding his head as he registered her joke. “Ex fed, and I have a 12-year-old godson, Henry.”

“Ahh, so no kids of your own?” Her voice was small, she took a look at his hand to avoid eye contact and he understood.

“None, no wife, no love children hiding out there in the world that I know of, it’s just me, I promise,” he tried his best to ease her anxiety about introducing a new man into her child’s life.

She nods slightly, “you seem too good to be true sometimes.”

He huffed out a small laugh, pressing his lips together as he looked at her, “pretty sure I’ve been dreaming since I saw you.”

She shoved him as she laughed, “would you like to come back to our place for dinner? I know it’s a little weird, believe me, I know, but we live on my parent's land and my mom’s making enough shepherds pie to feed an army.”

“Yeah I’d love to, I’ll get a cab home after,” he felt a swirling in his stomach, nervous and excited all at once.

“Okay,” she whispered, “or we can get to know each other, and then you could sleep on the couch and I’ll bring you back into DC in the morning? I have to drive in any way.”

He licked his lips and nodded his head, wondering what other kind of invitation this could be. If it was pure hospitality, wanting him to be safe for the night instead of inside some stranger's car, or was she wanting alone time with him.

The thoughts turned around in his head over and over making him dizzy, “okay, yeah I’d love to,” he managed to slip the words out without falling over them.

She smiled, tight-lipped and small. Looking up at him with a new look he hasn’t seen on her yet, one he’s only seen in a few faces in his time, and yet he believed her’s the most.

She was smitten with him as much as he was with her.

He sighed, smiling back at her just as soft. She reached her hand out to hold his, walking towards the table with him in tow. Leaning over Amoreena’s shoulder as she unearthed her new most prized possessions.

—

Amoreena was the funniest kid to drive with, He sat in the passenger seat of Y/N’s car with her in a car seat directly behind him. She was singing, cheering, pointing out the window to show him all her favourite things on the way to her house.

Telling him stories about the make-believe people she created to live in the houses, the trolls under bridges and the names of every cow in the field along the long driveway of her grandparent's farm.

“Bob and Linda are an interesting pair,” she warned him as they pulled in closer and closer. Dirt flying up behind the wheels as she drove fast, knowing every bump and turn from memory.

“They will be asking you every question in the book and if you’re going to be looking at the animals they will insist on putting you in flannel and a cowboy hat, it’s a tradition for visitors,” she explained it in a way where he knew she wanted him to think she hated it, but actually she looked excited to do it to him.

“I can’t wait,” he smiled.

“Amoreena has already told them all about you at dinner last night, so they are expecting her to drag you here tonight,” she pushed the blame onto Amoreena, downplaying her affection for him in a self-conscious way he could feel.

He didn’t want to profile her, but it wouldn’t turn off. He was desperate to know her more, to know if she felt the weird tugging in her heart that made him think soulmates might be real. A pain so intense that if he had to explain it to a doctor, it was like his heart was a negative charge and he was being drawn to her much more positive one.

“We have 16 cats, 46 cows, 13 chickens, 4 ducks, 50 sheep and 1 horse, her name is buttercup,” Amoreena informed him, stealing the attention once again.

“Wow, who’s your favourite?” Spencer turned to her, watching her kick her feet as she looked out the windows.

“Probably Alfonzo our fluffy show cow, or Rufus, our dog,” she said softly. “Sometimes nanny lets him sleep at our house.”

“That’s so cool, I’ve never had a pet.”

“What?!” Amoreena stopped, pressing her lips together as her eyes shot wide open, thinking it was the most absurd thing anyone has ever said.

“My mom was sick when I was growing up so I spent my time taking care of her, I didn’t have time for a dog,” he said softly, saying it in a way that wouldn’t scare her.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said softly, reaching her hand out to pat his knee as she kept her eyes on the road.

Then she was pulling in past a big house, around the bend behind it, past the garden and the trail to the barn towards another house. It was big and white, probably big enough to have 4 bedrooms. Many levels, with multiple build-ons from years ago ageing to match eventually.

It was covered in vines, ivy and flowers. It was just like miss honeys. He felt something unspeakable, opening his mouth softly to breathe as his eyes trailed up the siding to the shingles.

He couldn’t believe it.

“Home sweet home,” her wonderful voice brought him back to reality. Saying the word that matched the feeling in his chest.

“Wow,” he whispered. His mouth moved to say words, not a single one slipped through the cracks, his lips touching with fake syllables as he stared at it.

“It was my grandma’s, it’s the house she raised my dad in,” Y/N explained as she put the car in park.

“Mommy had me as a gift for GG,” Amoreena added from the back.

“Her great-grandma,” Y/N nodded with a soft smile, biting the inside of her lip as she fought her feelings. That was a touchy subject that he was going to pry into, later on, wanting to know every single thing about the most exceptional women in the world.

There was a cat sitting on their front step, introduced to him as toothpick because he was the smallest in the last litter. And then the name of every single cat on the way back up to the main house.

Simon and Gar-funk-field twin orange brothers, Alaska the all-white one, strawberry shortcake had a red heart on her butt, oven-mitt for comedic effect obviously as if they others weren’t funny enough, as well as shovel and Catrina… all 16 of them had a name and Spencer was not going to forget a single one.

“Welcome! You must be Doctor Reid,” her father was a very large man, it shocked Spencer slightly.

He was like Santa Clause, it was more than a bit of a shock. Thick grey beard, bald head, red flannel and dirty work jeans, probably in his late 60’s. He was what you imagined Santa to look like outside of Christmas, on holiday with his wife.

He looked like a man who lived a long and happy life, he had a wife who cooked good meals for him, he probably didn’t mind sitting back with a beer most nights. There was definitely going to be sports memorabilia inside and a million photos of Y/N and Amoreena, and the purest energy known to man. Family love.

He hated how fast he profiled it all in his mind, trying to drop that aspect of his inner monologue moving forward.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Sir,” he said softly, nodding lightly as he placed his hands in his pockets. Letting it be known he didn’t touch people, and weirdly being respected.

“Please, it’s Bob or Poppy Clause,” he laughed, shifting his attention to Amoreena as she climbed the stairs towards the porch.

“How is my lovey?” Bob asked her softly, “may I have a welcome home hug?”

“Ah,” he smiled and nodded to himself. He was used to it, asking permission for her sensory issues. Spencer was impressed, and a bit emotional at the fact someone his age was respecting a way of life many didn’t care to understand.

Amoreena gave him a hug, throwing herself into his arms, “no beard tickles,” she instructed, holding onto his shoulders as he kept his face away from her.

Y/N placed her hand on Spencers back, “I told you they were a lot, my mom is worse.”

“I feel very comfortable here, don’t worry,” he assured her.

“I should worry,” she laughed, “you’re one of them, oh god.”

“One of who?”

She tilted her head at him, shaking her head, “eccentric, full of life, bursting with weirdness that would probably be a strange purple goo if I could see it.”

He pressed his lips together as he thought about it, nodding softly in agreement. “There is nothing wrong with that, it just means I’m having fun and living my best life from now on.”

“Welcome to the family,” Bob added, a simple saying that invoked a feeling of pride he long yearned for.

—

Dinner was lovely, he’s never had shepherd’s pie before. Learning it was ground beef, beans and potato casserole, and somehow there was also corn in there… he wasn’t sure why it was so delicious but he enjoyed it a lot.

It might have simply been the ambiance that made it so good.

Her mother was the sweetest woman, she made everything from scratch. Including bread that he was obsessed with and a pie for dessert, she was overjoyed to have an expected yet unexpected guest.

Knowing there was a possibility he’d come, but not setting a place for him at the table unless he showed. She wrapped him up in a big hug when he arrived as well as after dinner when he helped her move the plates to the sink.

Her dad offered him a beer after dinner, taking him to the front porch to talk while the ladies cleaned up for the night. Amoreena had a strict bedtime routine to stick to, and it wasn’t his place to witness nor get in the way.

“So,” her dad started the interrogation easily. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be here if Y/N didn’t trust you. And she doesn’t trust many people.”

“I can promise you I’ll never hurt either of them,” he said with the utmost confidence. “It’s been two days and they’ve brought me more joy than I can explain, and I’m never going to take that for granted.”

“Good answer,” he smiled. “Now, farmhouse rules are as follows; you can roam where ever you please, just ask permission before using any equipment, we’re more of a petting zoo than a farm now so the animals are overly friendly, try and keep them inside the gates.”

He was a bit flustered, computing the fact that he just trusted him like that. Maybe he was Santa Clause, making a list and checking it twice, and Spencer happened to cross off every box to land him on the nice one.

“Sounds good,” he smiled. “Thank you.”

“Believe me, sonny, I know what it’s like to want to impress the old man, but it’s all about Amoreena,” Bob warned him. “If she loves you then so will Y/N, and she falls fast.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, “I’m the same way.”

“That’s what Y/N was saying, I think it’ll be good for Amoreena to know someone like her, we try our best to get her out there and making friends, she’s smart enough to move up some grades but she’s a kid, y’know?” Her father basically describing his own childhood back to him.

“I graduated high school at 13,” he presses his lips together, hoping it doesn’t come off as a brag. Taking a sip of his beer to take the edge off how awkward he felt.

“Do you regret it?”

“No,” he smiled at Bob, who was smiling right back, “it led me here.”

Bob hummed in response, taking a sip as well as he sat back in his rocking chair, watching over the cows in the field as the sun began to set. It was picture perfect, unbelievable.

Wet feet on the hardwood floor caught his attention then, Amoreena was in her PJ’s as she ran towards the door. Putting on her rubber boots and swinging open the screen door.

Her hair was wet, falling into her eyes as she pushed it out of the way, “are you joining the parade and dance party?”

He acted like he knew what that meant, “sure?”

“Yes!” She cheered, “hurry up mom!!”

Y/N walked down the steps slowly, shaking her head as she laughed. “You are so impatient, the animals aren’t going anywhere.”

“No, but Spencer will!”

It made his heartache, the thought of leaving.

“Come on,” she slipped back into her shoes and joined them on the porch. “Off we go, see you later dad.”

“Be good, make wise choices,” he teased her.

“Okay old fart, sleep well,” they had a friendship that was admirable.

Spencer followed with glee as Amoreena said goodnight to all the animals, parading down the path towards their house as she made sure to talk to everything on the way there.

“Every night we pick 2 songs to dance to, it gets all the sillies out and rewards us for a day well spent so we can bless our bodies with a good sleep,” Y/N explains as she unlocks the front door.

A cottage full of books in the middle of the woods, that dream he always had, coming true as she ushered him inside. The smell of coffee drifting towards him as he noticed the brown candle on the mantle surrounded by photos of Y/N and her family.

She placed her keys beside it, kicking off her shoes and making sure Amoreena did the same. In the living room, she connected her phone to a set of speakers, letting the little one pick out 2 songs, queueing them up to play as she bounced with anticipation.

“Tonight’s selection is today was a fairytale by miss Swift, and Anne Hathaway’s cover of somebody to love, form the cinematic masterpiece that is Ella Enchanted,” Y/N announced like she was hosting the grammies, pretending her phone was the mic before hitting play.

He knew somebody to love, the Elton John version, it was a song that Penelope and Emily sang at karaoke when they reached 11 shots each, so not very often. But enough to have him remember the words, singing along with them as they danced.

It was a better workout than Derek had ever put him through, they held hands and jumped around, he twirled Amoreena around, pretending to do the tango with Y/N. Waving their arms in the air, it was the most carefree he has been in ages.

The songs fit the situation more perfectly than any of them seem to realize, he’s falling head over heels in love with this family that he met yesterday. Something in him saying that he needs to stay, that this is where he was supposed to be.

Getting Amoreena into bed was more difficult than Y/N imagined, she didn’t want to stop talking to Spencer. Only finally agreeing to sleep when she learned he would still be there for breakfast in the morning.

“Can you read me a book from your brain?” Her sleep-deprived eyes blinked as she asked him softly.

He looked at Y/N from the doorway, she nodded, patting the bed for Spencer to sit on the edge.

“Any book?”

“Any book.”

“Bedtime for baby star,” he says softly. Remembering all the late night’s he’s heard JJ whisper it on the back of the plane, in the corner of a police precinct in the middle of nowhere, in a twin bed beside his as they shared a hotel room.

“Once there was a baby star, she lived up by the sun. And every night at bedtime, that baby star wanted to have some fun,” he recited the words in an exciting tone, just low enough to soothe her into sleep. “She would sine and sine and fall and shoot and twinkle, oh so bright, and she said ‘Mommy! I’ll run away if you make me say goodnight.’”

Y/N looked at her with a fake stern look, leaning in enough to rub their noses together. “And then her mommy kissed her sparkly nose and said, no matter where you go,”

Y/N kissed her on the nose, “no matter where you go,” she repeated.

“No matter where you are, no matter how big you grow and even if you stray far,” to which Y/N repeated. “I’ll love you forever because you’ll always be my baby star.”

“Goodnight my sweet Amoreena,” Y/N kissed her head softly and stood, Spencer, joined her by the door.

“Can I have a hug?” She asked him softly, he looked at Y/N for approval once again.

She placed a hand on his back as she nodded, watching him lean in and hold Amoreena softly, “goodnight, I had a fun day today.”

“See you tomorrow,” she smiled, closing her eyes for the night.

Y/N replaced her lamp light with a night light, closing the door on the way out of her room as she blew a kiss towards her baby, “love you.”

“Love you more,” Amoreena whispered back.

Spencer was nothing but smiles in the hall as she looked at him, “I’m going to pour myself some wine and sit in the garden, are you interested?”

“Ecstatic actually,” he replied, following her towards the kitchen and letting her pour him a glass.

Behind her house, she had an overgrown garden, every area of her life had a reference to a book somewhere, a story someone else told that she’s now claimed as her own. Living in the world she always wanted, inviting Spencer to stay a while.

She let out a deep sigh as she sat down on the outdoor couch beside him, dropping her head on his shoulder softly, it was more contact than he was expecting. She had barely touched him.

“You should know that I like you a lot,” Spencer spoke softly. “I don’t want you to think I’m just some creep trying to get close to you and your kid, I genuinely think you’re wonderful and Amoreena is magnificent.”

“I trust you, I googled you and everything, don’t worry,” she laughs. “I wouldn’t invite you to the museum and let you give my kid a hug without doing research.”

“Not everything is on there you know.”

“I think you are very wonderful as well,” she said softly, “but I know it’s just the fact that you’re so darn cute that’s making me feel like I should drop everything and invite you into our life.”

“I understand,” he replied. Waiting for her to tell him that this was the last time she’d see him, it was inevitable at this point in his life. Nothing good lasted for long.

“So I need you to know all about me and I need to know all about you before you decide you want to stay because I can’t handle bringing you into Amoreena’s life for you to just leave her,” another deflection.

“You might want to hear mine first before you decide if you want me to stay around her,” it sounded scarier than he planned.

“Alright then, you go first,” she insisted with a small smile, eyes darting past him towards the cows in the field. Not ready to be vulnerable with him.

“I worked with the FBI for 15 years, I’ve helped catch some of the worst people in America, and some of them have vendetta’s against me. As far fetched and insane as that sounds,” he pre-warned her, watching her face drop as she understood the weight of his words.

“I have been framed and sent to prison for three months, I was kidnaped, tortured, drugged, and assaulted, not to mention shot a few times. I have more trauma than you can imagine. So that’s something you have to consider in a future with me,” he whispered so she wouldn’t hear how ashamed he was of himself.

“And the fact know that I can’t always keep myself or you safe, no matter how far disconnected I am from the FBI. It doesn’t matter if I change my name and hide here for the rest of my life off the grid. There are some fucked up minds out there that don’t want to let me experience true happiness. But in all honesty,” he finally stops his long-winded rant. He bites his bottom lip as if he is holding back someone worse than all the things he just said.

“I’m willing to die tomorrow if it means my last day on earth was this fucking perfect.” Tears welled in his eyes, “I am so tired.”

“It’s okay to cry, I would be too,” she says softly, a frog in her throat as she nodded. Tears welling in her eyes as her face scrunched.

He blinked and a tear escaped, slipping down his cheek and being swiped off by her thumb in an instant. She kept her hand on his cheek softly, he leaned into it.

“I’ve been running for so long,” he whispers because then the words don’t really exist. They’re secrets only for her to hear and then they’re gone. “I was basically groomed for the FBI, I was their personal computer and they didn’t give a single shit about the wear and tear on me.”

He started to sob. She cradled his head against her chest in one swift motion, holding him close and rubbing his back. Shushing him softly as he cried into her shoulder.

“You know that Katy Perry song?” she changed the subject as he calmed down, understanding his pain and accepting his warnings, but continuing down the path anyway.

“Summer after high school when we first met,” she sang like an angel. “It was like that, I thought I met the love of my life after I graduated, we got engaged a year later, then he died in a car crash and I was single for a very long time.”

“Then my grandma got sick and she made a bucket list. Number one was to become a great grandma,” her words became whispers as she tried to stop the tears, following Spencer’s tactic even though it failed so miserably.

“I said fuck it. I’m going to have a baby and make my own family, one person I can truly care for and never lose. She’s my world, she was the light of my grandma’s life until it burnt out, she has changed my world in ways I can’t even explain.”

It fell silent as they absorbed each other’s explanations of their issues. The root of their problems, the core of their soul were the most hurt was kept locked away, opening the doors and swapping scrapbook snapshots of terrible memories.

“I think,” she says, finally, like music to his ears. “I think that I’m okay, I’m positive actually that I want you in my life like this. All of you is fine with me, you’re not that scary, and I’m tired of waiting for the right moments because it means losing the people over time missed. I want to live my life fully, I’m at peace with the unknown and with you.”

Peace.

“Not to quote Taylor Swift at you or anything, but she does have a point in that song,” she laughed lightly and he felt her chest jump. Life bursting through her as she made light of an incredibly touchy subject.

“I don’t know the song,” he whispers.

She gasps, “oh that’s the line, I finally found it. Our first fight can be whether or not you like Taylor Swift, don’t even think about how upset Amoreena will be if you’re not, I’ll kick you out.”

He can't stop laughing then, digging his face into her neck as he holds her closer to his chest. Breathing her in as she finishes his laugh in a giggle, rubbing her hands down his back as she presses her cheek to his head.

“I haven’t had the time to listen to her this year I know she’s been busy releasing music,” he admits, “but I’m sure I’ll love it.”

She shifts awkwardly on the couch to take her phone out of her pocket, opening her music and playing the song she was speaking of.

He simply rests his head on her chest, both of them laying back onto the cushions together, finding a comforting spot for their arms as they listened to the words, silently.

He absorbed it all, every word she said bringing forth a feeling he’s never felt before. True understanding, like someone, gets him. Gasping audibly when she says ‘robbers to the east clowns to the west, give you my sunshine, give you my best.’

He wasn’t alone.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

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sexysilverstrider · 3 years

Text

Burning Ambition (Teppeilumi)

Everything was dark.

Stench of spit and blood filled the room. His vision was terrible blur, he could only make out faded images of the ceiling above. A gulp was attempted. A painful cringe was obtained. Breathing grew harsher, weaker. Heartbeat became slower, quieter.

How amusing.

As one lone figure lay breathless on the cot, a sudden smoke of black and deep red loomed next to him.

Huh, was all the smoke hummed. Two slits formed on the entity, colours a demonic crimson. It witnessed the pitiful being. The other patients around it were fighting for their lives as well, completely unaware of the existence that had solidified next to the aging soldier.

It had no mouth, yet a smile formed inside the flickering smoke.

The poor soldier was on his last seconds. Once he drew out his fifth breath, all that would be left was a disgusting corpse.

One breath.

You are nothing but a pitiful mortal… A silent echo whirred into the soldier’s ears. The shadow hovered closer, looking down at the dying man.

Two breaths.

You lack motivation. The two slits widened, crazed as it glared at him. You lack perseverance. And for that, you do not deserve my attention. The darker line below the slits shook, cracked to what one could guess was an eerie smile.

Three breaths.

However, It’s ‘smile’ widened, you attract the traveler’s interest. The shadow tilted slightly. The man wheezed weakly.

Four breaths.

And I—The shadow reached out for his right hand—am interested in the traveler.

Five—

----------

This couldn’t be possible.

“O-Oi!” Paimoun shouted, body floating as fast as it can to catch up. “Wait—Wait up!” she wheezed, one tiny hand reaching for her fast friend. And yet Lumine didn’t hear her. She couldn’t. For her mind was wholly clouded by the shocking news that was brought up by Gorou.

“Her Excellency saw it with her own eyes and even did a full check-up on him.” Gorou’s words shrilled clear like a siren. “She even used her healing abilities to ensure that…you know…he’s not an undead or possessed.” His statement only made her run faster and faster.

Minutes felt eternal, and when Lumine finally arrived at the headquarters in Sangonomiya, she wasted no time and slammed the doors open.

The scene she made caused shock and confusion to both soldiers and locals alike. All eyes were on her, but a pair of dazzling golden starlight were on the man at the far end of the headquarters.

Him.

“Teppei!”

Once his name escaped her lips. Once those warm brown eyes met her own. Lumine could feel her legs give out and her body flashing forward.

Even with a gift bestowed upon him, never would he have anticipated the traveler’s tackle.

“Oof!” His body was thrown aback, yet awareness and newfound strength allowed him to stand his ground instead of falling on his butt. Arms spread open. Eyes widened immediately. Legs shaking still from the impact, Teppei quickly tried to straighten his back with someone hugging him for dear life.

“You’re alive…”

Her voice was muffled, breathing brushed against the material of his shirt. “I—what?” Bafflement still bursting in his mind, he tilted his head downwards. All he saw was a sight of golden blonde. All he smelled was a scent of warmth and wind.

“You’re alive!” Without warning, Lumine snapped her head upwards, meeting his shocked gaze. “You’re alive!” Statement now booming with baffled laughter, Lumine once more nuzzled her face into his chest.

The scent was tickling his nose. Burning red in his cheeks.

“I uh—” Realization kicked in; they were very, very close. “I-I am!” Words sputtered into a stutter, Teppei gave two thumbs up with arms still spread to the side.

Laughter bubbled within her chest, tickling his own.

He prayed that she didn’t hear his manic heartbeat.

“I’m so glad…”

The laughter was short-lived, however, as her voice lulled to a whisper. “Traveler?”

“So…so glad…” Her hug tightened. Voice now broken to a slow, woeful murmur. “I’m glad…” A strain scraped through gritted teeth. Golden eyes were squeezed shut to prevent a fearful sight.

A short gasp popped her lips to feel his embrace.

“I’m glad too…” His voice was a gentle whisper, meek and shaky. “Very, very glad…”

Cheek rested against his chest, Lumine pursed her lips and released a heavy sigh. “Mmm…” His arms felt hesitant around her petite body at first, but fear dissolved into relief once she felt his hug tighten.

“Aww!”

Relief, however, exploded into wild embarrassment once they realized they weren’t alone.

Immediately both broke their hug, faces now flushed red and hearts thumping wildly against their ribcages. A pair of golden and brown targeted towards the two people standing before them. One had his face covered and body shaking in silent amusement. The other had her hands clapped and positioned adorably next to her cheek.

“I’m so happy to see that smile back on your face, traveler!” Kokomi gleamed, her smile sincere yet laced with a hint of mirth. Gorou still had his face covered, though it seemed that his fit of giggles had ceased—for now.

Ah, what a fool she made herself to be.

“W-Well,” Trying her best to dig out of her hole she had made, Lumine straightened her posture and cocked her head upwards. “Why wouldn’t I be? To know that my friend is alive is more than enough to make me—”

“How dare you left Paimon at the back!”

“Ack!”

Alas, before Lumine could save face, she wasn’t able to realize and stop Paimon from crashing into her.

----------

In all honesty, Teppei still thought that he had died and gone to heaven.

“It’s…real.” Tap, tap. One finger gently tapped onto the glass of the Vision case. A simmering shape of fire burned brilliantly inside the object. The longer he held it, the more he could feel warmth sipping into his body. One hand holding the Vision, he flipped his other hand left and right.

There were no wrinkles. No drained colours of deathly blue. The same warmth could be felt into his palm. The same pulse could be felt inside his veins.

“Still reeling it in?”

Her voice was a brilliant beacon that lit him up. “Uh—yeah!” The answer stuttered sheepishly, Teppei looked at the traveler. Her smile was ever present. Her eyes gleamed gloriously like stars that he often basked in awe.

Those stars now shined closely to him.

“I just…” It’s been an hour since their reunion. After witnessing a scolding from Paimon to Lumine and apologizing endlessly to Lady Kokomi and General Gorou, both he and the traveler decided to rest by the lake near the headquarters. Peace wasn’t an option yet, however, as the tiny, floating being started shooting endless questions that he still found no answers to.

“You have a Vision now!? You’re a Pyro user?! Holy moly you can control fire! You got blessed by the Gods! How? When? And you look like you’re back to your real age! You’re no longer a withering, dying old man!”

It was truthfully amazing how Lumine handled Paimon on a daily basis.

After trying his best to give an explanation that might work, Paimon finally reached an understanding and let him breathe.

That, or she was hungry which made her fly off to the kitchen to recharge herself for more questions later.

Either way, Teppei was grateful for the silence.

Now all that’s left were him and the traveler. And while he knew she had just as many questions as her small friend, he was just glad that she allowed him to recollect his thoughts first.

It had been a good 20 minutes. Reality still hadn’t set in.

“This is mine…right?” Once again he looked at her, eyes clouded in hope and fear. Will it disappear? Am I actually dreaming or dead and this is just my mind giving me one last mercy? These questions bounced in his mind from the moment he woke up from the agonizing slumber. “It’s—I’m not holding someone’s missing Vision, right…?”

“Teppei.”

His body shivered briefly to hear such a gentle tone.

Pupils dilated to see her hand, small yet callous, cupping his left hand. Quickly he looked at her again, not realizing that he had dropped his gaze back at the Pyro Vision.

Her smile was radiant as the sun.

“That is yours.” Reassurance sang melodiously into his ears. Her fingers curled his own, cupping the warm Vision closer. “You have a Vision.” Distance became a mere hindrance to her, so Lumine scooted closer. It was then that she saw his hair, dark as the day she first met him. His cheeks were rosy. His eyes shined brightly. No wrinkles cursed his skin. No fades of pale blue scrapped his face.

He looked back to how he was before. Better even.

Giddiness bubbled within her again. Though caution and confusion loomed inside her brain at the possible impossible, Lumine decided to gulp those fears down first and rejoiced at his living.

Living. Alive.

“You’ve received favours from the Gods.”

It took a while for Teppei to get used to his new powers.

While those words stung her tongue, clawed through her throat, what matters to her right now was that he was alive.

----------

One couldn’t hone it so magnificently in a span of a day after receiving a Vision. Though Lumine wouldn’t know; she technically never gotten one.

But as a month rolled by, and after rejoicing with his friends and teammates, Teppei easily bounced back as Captain of Herring I. Excitement fuelled his veins once he finally got the chance to wear his new uniform. A small logo in shape of a herring was stitched at the back, bare and open so proudly for everyone to see. His teammates now somewhat revered him as a miracle who came back from the jaws of death. And while a part of him felt bashful and slightly proud of the statement, Teppei knew he couldn’t gloat—at least, not too much.

This was a gift by the Gods, after all. He was grateful. Truly. Whether or not the Vision he received granted him what was once stolen by the Delusion, Teppei knew this was something that shouldn’t be taken so lightly. Or rudely.

A few more weeks flew by, and as a Vision bearer, he was now given a special task to train and hone his powers. And while that didn’t seem like a problem—in fact, Teppei was more than excited to train with General Gorou and Kazuha—he did feel the nerves kicking in when Lumine volunteered to join in the practice as well.

“Alright!” Her right hand reached forward; immediately, her sword appeared seemingly out of nothing. “Show me what you got, partner!”

Ba-dump!

He really needed to have a talk with his heart later about the traveler calling him that.

“Right!” Enthusiasm and anxiety spiralled together, Teppei hovered hands close to each other. Slowly, he tried to manifest the weapon into his hands. Apparently, according to General Gorou, Vision bearers were able to dissolve their weapons with their powers, enabling an easy access to it especially when they’re in a pinch. When Teppei heard of this fun fact, he was over the moon; what a very coincidentally accessible way!

However, it was easier said than done.

It took many, many, many tries. And finally, after a…few failed attempts, he was able to conjure up his lance.

It took a few seconds—better than a few minutes, Teppei figured—the weapon finally materialized in his hands. “Got it!” Like a puppy, he beamed. Flickers of flame swerved around the lane, yet Teppei felt no pain.

If anything, he felt elated.

Never one to give up or step down, he concentrated again. This time, patience and practice showed its results as ribbons of fire wrapped around the lance. They decorated every so prettily, tickling his arm. Careful as to not position his lance near anyone besides his opponent, he posed a battle stance.

“Ready when you are—” Brown eyes stared at her. His battle posture ready. His heartbeat sang madly. “—partner!”

----------

Sometimes, he needed to remind himself that his own flames couldn’t technically hurt him.

It was amazing. Jaw-dropping. Stunning even that he could stare at it for days. The tiny flicker of flames danced on his palms, hypnotizing him with such a sight. He curled one finger. Then another and another. His fingers went thru the fire. It gave such a tickling warmth, soothing both his palms and heart.

“Heh…” A quiet chuckle peeped through smiling lips. Sitting alone by the lake, he slowly curled his fists, extinguishing the flames within. It tickled, he thought. Once again, he opened his hands, revealing clear skin that bore flesh, not bones.

His heartbeat raced. Excitement. Fear. All whirled in his mind. Silently, he took a deep breath, then exhaled carefully as if relishing on each breath that coursed through his throat.

He was alive. Living.

Everything could change in a blink.

Bringing that reminder close to his heart, Teppei nodded once. A new resolution formed firm. Stronger. Clearer. If this truly was a gift by the Gods. If this was truly a test he needed to fulfil and succeed, then he must carry on.

Yes. One fist raised in the air. A smile curled confidently under the shine of the moonlight. I can do this!

As one man basked on his goal, one woman stood from afar, hiding behind a tree and gazing at him with eyes a woeful glow and lips a tight purse.

“Gift by the Gods.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine. Burned fire in her chest.

Gratitude burst brightly every time she saw him. But Lumine knew: not everything came without a price.

The Archons she had met so far were nice, welcoming—although Ei had a rough start when they first met, both were slowly moving forward together to fix the future. But that was the thing that concerned Lumine the most.

Not everyone would be sensible and sweet like Venti and Zhongli. And even with them, after having met Dainsleif and the unfortunate reunion with her dear brother, Lumine had to keep her guard up.

He looked so happy. So alive.

Ba-dump…

One hand placed where her heart ached.

----------

Some Vision bearers honed their powers until they were able to conjure up new skills. Some were able to form powerful shields. Some were able to heal and cure. Some even had the power to freeze even the mightiest of hilichurl chieftains.

In Teppei’s case, he would soon find out that skills were sometimes found or created when one was put in a desperate situation.

“Watch out!”

All happened too fast. The moment he saw a samurai plunging his way towards her, Teppei could feel the wind and rain against his face. He saw Lumine turning around to face the enemy. He saw Lumine swinging her sword in hopes that it slices the samurai before his own could slice her.

While he was not as fast as the traveler, he was quick enough to reach out for her.

Quickly he tugged her left arm. Taken aback by the sudden force, Lumine felt her body being pulled backwards. Everything happened in mere blinks. Panic sinking in, Teppei stomped one foot forward—

FWOOM!

CLANG! CRASH!!

A burst of fire shaped around them. The ringing clash of steel against solid fire reverberated amidst the heavy rain.

The impact clearly took the samurai by surprise. The newly-formed shield ironically took Teppei’s and Lumine;s breaths away.

Golden met brown. Stupor froze their body still. The shield was still active, still enveloped around them like a dome of flames. Lumine gawked at the tall captain, awe and bewilderment being her method of communication. It seemed Teppei understood her language, for both now shared their speechless conversation under the brilliant dome.

“Um…” he gulped. “You alright?”

She blinked once. Twice. “Yeah!” Laughter burst out amidst the stupor. “I’m fine!” One to easily register reality quickly around her, Lumine readied her battle stance again. The shield around them burned brighter. As eyes inspected the area around her, she realized that the same samurai that attacked just now started to stagger and stumble. His sword sheathed into the ground. Though donned in a helmet, Lumine could see him crouch slightly as if he was trying to catch his breath.

He didn’t get hit by anything else after that. And the impact wasn’t as severe. If Lumine remembered correctly, the samurai only crashed against Teppei’s shield—

Another realization jolted in. And her guess was swiftly proven correct as she felt an aura of strength pumping into her veins.

It would seem Teppei would be excited to learn his newfound ability.

For now, as both captains locked eyes and nodded, Lumine decided to break the great news later after they finished this battle.

----------

Sangonomiya was truly a breath-taking place.

Giant shells that stood proudly in the center of the land. Waterfalls that shined and gleamed every time it hit the surface. Even the lake was a like a beautiful mirror, revealing clear images of those who look upon it.

However, as beautiful as the place was, it did have one flaw when it came to nightly weather.

Maybe Ei was feeling at peace after their little tour, which would explain the soothing wind that blew past her. And while Lumine was happy to know that that might be case, unfortunately, her body would say otherwise.

“Hey there, traveler!”

Her head turned at the voice. Golden eyes caught the sight of the lone soldier who kept dancing in her mind lately. “Hi,” was her reply, short and sweet, yet enough to ring a bell of joy at his presence.

Her bliss was a reflection to his.

“May I join in?” His directed his hand at the empty spot next to her. A giggle was heard. A shaken head was seen. Smile curling swirls at the corners, Teppei took a seat on the bench. “Where’s your flying friend?”

“Sleeping.” Another short reply, but not curt. Her head turned to one of the tents in the camp. “She had a big dinner so decided to call it a night.”

“I see.” Brown eyes glanced at the tent, then back at her. “Why are you still up, though?” Curiosity led him to the question, but he didn’t realize how rude he might have sounded before he could stop himself. Teppei then flustered to see her eyes widen, probably offended, probably hurt that he thought she was some sort of child.

“W-Wait, no I mean—” Both hands raised and waved. “I was just curious since we kinda had a long day and—”

Laughter ceased him from making a further fool of himself.

“It’s okay, Teppei.” One hand that stayed near her mouth slowly lowered down to her lap. “I understand. I just don’t feel sleepy yet.” The smile on her face grew genuine. It always seemed to be whenever he was around. “I just want to enjoy the night a little longer. I have a lot of energy compared to Paimon, anyways.”

The joke got through him. A laughter was given as a response.

“If she heard you, she would be mad.”

“Which is why I’m saying it to you.”

How light her chest felt whenever she talked to him.

The conversation came smoothly. Teppei talked about his daily task as captain. Lumine responded with topics of her commissions and part-time role as captain as well. While the matter with Raiden Shogun had been resolved, there were still some internal conflicts that required attention. Lumine knew it would take some time to figure out a way to get to Sumeru, so she figured she might as well stay in Inazuma for a while. Who knows? Maybe she would find more information about her brother—

“Achoo!”

“Traveler?”

A sneeze broke their conversation and her thoughts. “O-Oh,” she sniffed, “sorry. It just gets a bit cold in Sangonomiya that I kinda forgot to bring a coat.” Hands rubbed her prickling arms. Yet she didn’t feel like getting up. Not now. Lumine enjoyed talking to Teppei. The stress in Inazuma sometimes got to a point where it was unbearable, and the Herring I captain was one of the people who was able to lighten the burden in her chest.

It seemed Teppei had the same idea about her as well.

“Oh…” Thoughts whirled in his mind. Suddenly, an idea flickered in seconds. “I can go get a coat for you if you like! Don’t want my partner to be sick now, huh.” He laughed, cheerful and honest. Hands pressed on the bench, he started to get up. “I’ll be right back—”

“Wait.”

His body froze at the feel of her hand around his fingers.

Brown and gold looked at their hands. Brown and gold then looked at each other.

“Ah!”

In unison, they gasped. Lumine immediately retracted her hand while Teppei dumbly plopped himself back onto the bench.

“You don’t have to!” Heat kissed her cheeks as their roles were now reversed. “I’m not that cold. And besides, ever since you started sitting down, it actually feels warmer—”

Foolish was an act that bounced back between the two.

Realization kicked in. Fast. It was obvious in the blown pupils of his eyes. It was clear in the beautiful burst of red in her face.

Sadly, Teppei was quite quick to catch up on things too. “R-Really?”

Slim fingers curled slowly. Hands were still raised near eye-level. “Well…” Ah fuck it, she thought. “Really.” She figured there was no harm in being honest. Maybe some shame. “Maybe it’s because of your Vision, but you feel a bit…warmer than normal people.” Thankfully, she had seen and faced this sort of phenomenon with Amber and Xiangling. Although she technically had never hugged Diluc, the man did once offer her his jacket. And wearing it felt warm and toasty, so that was good enough research for her.

His short laughter brought her attention back to him.

“I do feel warmer than usual ever since I woke up from that long sleep.” A sheepish reply accompanied the growing red in his cheeks. “But I make sure this time that it wasn’t anything dangerous. Her Excellency said that it’s normal for a Pyro user like me to have some extra body heat.” White teeth gleamed beneath the moon’s glow. “You can say that I’m like a walking heater.”

More laughter joined in, but it was one-sided this time.

“Then…may I sit closer?”

The laughter died down immediately, bafflingly.

He couldn’t believe what she said. She couldn’t believe what she said.

“If that’s alright with you…?” The question was timid, sheepish, bursting with shame. Lumine was ready to bolt off the bench and excuse herself for the night. Why would she ask him that, she wondered? The man was of pure heart ever since she met him. He was an honest friend, an enthusiastic one at that. Like most of the people she had met, Teppei’s intentions were true and genuine which became the very reason she was getting close to him—

“I…don’t mind.”

The wild tornado of feelings in her mind died down once she heard his reply.

Those golden eyes were no match for the stars above. “Really?”

Excitement was real in her tone. The sight of pure joy made his heart burst anew. “Really…” He sounded sheepish, bashful, yearning. One breath. Maybe two. Once he reassured himself that he was calm and collected, Teppei scooted closer. “It’s the least I can do for my partner.”

She always hated how her heart cracked to hear that term.

Sorrow was short-lived, hidden behind layers and layers of relief that she practiced over the centuries. “Thank you.”

He always loved how his heart skipped a beat to see her smile.

Slowly, the distance between then shrunk. Only an inch teased between their pinkie fingers. In seconds, Lumine could feel the warmth—his warmth. It truly felt soothing. Calming. Yet it also gave her a tiny surge of strength that tickled her stomach. She loved it. She adored it.

She only wished she had more time to cherish it.

“Thank you, Teppei…” Her voice mellowed. “For showing me around the Resistance. For helping me out in battles.” Silence was his response. A welcome for her to say further. “For pushing me to end this terrible Vision Hunt Decree.”

His left fingers clenched rigidly next to her.

“For coming back alive and well…” Her voice started to get slower. “For inspiring me…” Her eyes started to get heavier. “For cheering me up when I feel…down…” Her head bobbed forward. “For…” A yawn broke out, “being there…”

Body acting out of reflex, Lumine leaned her head against his left arm.

Her actions stunned him back to reality. As she talked to him—as if she was talking to herself—Teppei felt hypnotized. Brown eyes were fixed on her like trance. Healthy heartbeat skipped at the sound of her melodious voice. It wasn’t until he felt her body so close to him that Teppei almost jumped with face full of red.

Silence hummed around them.

The captain looked at her, entranced and bewitched by such a sight. “That’s a lot of thanks, partner…” Voice a shy murmur, he brought his free hand up to his face. A long sigh escaped his lungs. His right hand remained on half of his face as he stared forward.

His whole body felt as if he was burning.

Brown eyes glanced at the sleeping traveler next to him.

But honestly, His left fingers twitched, stretched until his hand held her right hand, it doesn’t feel bad.

The mad drumming of his heart echoed in his ears. The soothing sound of her voice kissed heat in his cheeks and neck.

It doesn’t feel bad at all.

“Sweet dreams, Lumine…” His left hand gently squeezed her right hand. His face slowly leaned closer to her to memorize every detail, to cherish every moment he had with this fated encounter.

Ah, he thought, smile soft and shaky, I’m in trouble…

END

#Teppei #Lumine #Genshin Impact #Teppeilumi #i call this 4k words of denial #i havent written this much in a while LMAO #what denial can do to a bicc #just coz of an npc.................smh #fafar writes

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mieohmy · 3 years

Text

𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝖲𝖺𝗐 𝖸𝗈𝗎 | 𝖧𝗎𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖱𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗇

PAIRING: huang renjun x temp blind! reader

GENRE: angst (with a happy ending), fluff, humor, strangers-to-lovers, shared dreams! au, soulmate! au, college au

WC: 7.6k

NOTES: reader is temporarily blind, cursing, mentions of a car accident, trauma, slight anxiety and depression, mentions of injuries/hospitals

SUMMARY: dreams are your place where you feel alive -feel like yourself. the only place you can still see. which means you don’t want to share them. not with this random guy who keeps appearing in them, and especially not since he seems so real -almost like he actually exists in the real world outside of your dreams, but that couldn’t be possible... right?

oof this is late- anyways, it’s this beautiful soul’s birthday today <3

hbd to our fairy renjunnie !

Three months. Three months stuck in that space.

And all because of a reckless driver. Like they all say, it happened so fast. A single glance of the road. It seemed clear, the pedestrian sign flashing even.

Then was the rush of a car engine coming closer.

You suppose it was also your fault. Whoever it was that caused a notification to ping on your phone. It was an almost natural instinct to take it out and check.

But you were never able to find out.

One of the scariest things in the world is to wake up and wonder why the world is an empty canvas.

Why you have so many questions that can’t be answered.

Why you can’t see the spring anymore.

The doctors said it was temporary. Some kind of head trauma from the accident caused whatever nerves to swell in your eyes.

And that’s why you could no longer see the day. or night. anything.

“It’ll eventually return to normal, and you’ll be able to see again. Just give it time.”

So why has it been three months and nothing except dark moving shadows and pain?

“I’m sorry, we’re not sure how long it’s gonna last. Let’s just wait and see.”

But how much time did you have to give?

You were sent home in the end. The other injuries were much more minor, and you were just prolonging your stay.

Only because you wanted to know. You wanted to know it would all go away. That it would be okay.

You just so desperately wanted to see once more.

They only gave you ambiguous answers. Answers that only made the scratchy and uncomfortable sensation inside you grow bigger.

And here you were now. Four months after the incident and barely living on your own. Sight not improving in the slightest bit.

You lived separately from your parents, far away because of college. They helped you with all the hospital and stupid complicated health stuff, but there wasn’t much else they could do. There was no choice for them but to work hard and earn money instead of assisting you since bills were shit expensive.

You assured them it was fine, you would learn how to deal with everything.

Friends were a different issue. The thing was, you didn’t have very many considering you just moved to a new school, but the few you did were kind and understanding.

Except you never told them about the incident. Maybe because you were in denial. Maybe cause you were ashamed of yourself for ignoring them and cutting them out of your life. Because they got to see and experience everything they wanted while you were stuck behind.

And then you were truly alone. Alone with the faint light and shadows you were still sort of able to see.

Siri basically became your best friend. You never realized how helpful it could be. Just ask, and it would tell you everything you needed to know.

To be honest, there wasn’t much to do. You weren’t able to attend your classes for the time being, and there wasn’t much you could to do without seeing.

It was hard to adjust to life without your sight. There were a lot of things you couldn’t do without your sight. A lot of things were knocked over. A lot of bruises on your body from bumping into obstacles. That’s probably why you barely went out, only ever leaving your place for necessary resources to live.

This is not permanent. It’ll all go away soon.

You constantly told yourself that, repeating it in the morning. At night before you went to bed. But deep inside, you knew the real reason for everything. The denial, stubbornness.

The answer was clear.

Fear.

The fear of a permanent life without being able to fully experience the world.

The fear of what your life would become without having the chance to achieve all your dreams and goals.

You knew you should be grateful. For being able to see from birth until now. You survived your accident with mostly minor injuries. Occasionally, you would get intense migraines- one where you could barely move- but you truly didn’t want to go back to that place to get it checked. You didn’t even want to leave your home.

At least you could still move and function properly for the most part.

But it didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt.

There was one thing. When your eyes closed for the day- when everything was okay.

Because there was no need to feel any emotions asleep.

But also because of the dreams. Mainly because of the dreams.

It wasn’t every day. You would absolutely love to dream every night, but if you did, then something must not be right.

The power to dream and be able to recall everything in the world before you lost it all would be your one wish if anyone asked.

Sure, you could just close your eyes and remember whatever you wanted, but it wasn’t the same.

Dreams were like a story. A story you wanted to read. And you could only do it because of your memories.

Thank the universe for memories. Ones that allowed you to still remember and see again in dreams.

They were the one thing connecting you to the real world.

The weird thing is, sometimes you would dream and be able to choose what you wanted to say and do. It was just like playing a fun game where you could do whatever you wished.

But it didn’t always happen. it only occurred on occasion. Why? You had no clue.

But even so, you’ve never had a stranger appear in one of your dreams before.

ꔫ

You couldn’t recall everything that happened in last night’s dream, but when you woke up, a strange face was the only image stuck in your brain.

You’re sure you’ve never seen him before.

Can brains make up random faces? Or maybe you just made up a fictional character because of loneliness?

Either way, he’s the only thing you can clearly remember.

Your eyes flick open, and it’s the same nothingness.

But his face lingers. Pretty and delicate eyes. Brown hair that flutters in the wind and a gentle smile that sucks you in.

Who are you?

Whoever this person was, you hope to dream about him again.

ꔫ

And he does show up a few weeks later. Or has it been a month? You were really losing track of the days, especially now more than ever.

This time, the image of him is stronger in your head, burning into your skull.

And you curse yourself for not remembering any more than his face.

You rack your brain, trying your best to just think.

Why do some people forget their dreams immediately when they wake up? When it feels like you’re just in one, but your mind starts up again for the day, and the dream vanishes just like that?

You so desperately want to know.

You can faintly remember images of a grassy meadow? Flowers? You don't recall any field that you’ve been to, but maybe it’s just somewhere you’ve forgotten about... Perhaps your mind just made your dream to be located there.

As you get up for the day, you still wish to dream about him. A dream where you can fully control yourself and find this imaginary character you created in your head. Whoever he is.

ꔫ

And the world grants you that one wish.

It’s been a while since you last dreamed. But of course, you never forgot him.

The setting sun is the first thing that catches your attention.

Immediately, you smile, standing up and brushing yourself off.

The place is faintly familiar, a beach. You know which one. The one your parents used to take you when you were little.

It looks exactly the same as you remember, but this was the first time you’ve ever dreamed about this specific place before.

Then sounds of footsteps approaching make you look up.

It’s him.

The fictional character somehow procured from basically nowhere.

What’s strange is that you didn’t even notice how the two of you were now sitting by the shore, watching the waves flow in and out.

What’s even stranger is that you don’t question it, and neither does he.

But you do take the chance to look at him, admiring his face.

“What’s your name?”

He looks startled like he never expected you to speak.

“Oh. Uh, R-Renjun.”

“Renjun,” you pronounce. The name feels unfamiliar on your tongue.

Now how did your mind come up with a unique name like that?

You shrug, letting the dream continue on its own.

But wait, you realize, if you were able to ask and think your own thoughts not according to the dream’s... that means you can control this-

Your eyes snap open. You can see nothing. And feel an oncoming headache.

Damn it.

ꔫ

You want to know why you’re so curious about this ‘character’. Why you want to see him over and over again without ever getting bored.

It’s just a dream. Or, several dreams that he’s appeared in by now.

That could be it, you suppose.

You usually didn’t have about the same person, or in your case, the same ‘character’ appear in your dream three times in a row.

But for some reason, you appreciated having your own imaginary friend in your dreams.

He wasn’t a real person. He wasn’t someone you had to watch out for. You could act however you wanted to him and he probably wouldn’t care.

Wait-no, you correct yourself. He has a name. A name that seems so far but so close at the same time.

Renjun.

You go to sleep chanting his name in your head over and over again.

ꔫ

“Wait... Renjun!”

A satisfied grin appears on your face from having remembered his name.

You stroll along the forest path, an unfamiliar one that you don’t particularly remember ever going to, but you shrug it off and continue towards him.

It’s been a while since you’ve last seen him, not having dreamed for a while.

His eyes widen, taking you in. “Whoa. You’re here again?”

You frown. “Um... yes? It’s nice to see you.”

Renjun nods hesitantly. “You too, uh....”

“Y/n!” you beam. You’re not sure why you’re so happy to see him, but any company is still company, so no complaining.

Since you figured you were able to control yourself in this dream, might as well take the opportunity.

If your brain was able to give him a name and a *cough* pretty *cough* face, he must have a personality. And what better than to get to know ‘renjun’ while you still had dreams about him?

“Do you want to walk together?”

He shrugs.

And since it’s your dream, right? you start on the path, knowing he’s gonna follow you anyways.

You reach an opening overlooking some city. It’s unfamiliar, but the sight is too pretty you don’t think much of it.

You can’t take your eyes away, the view one you’ve never seen before. One that wasn’t from your memories, and it almost blinds you. Especially since you haven’t been able to experience anything new in a while because of... everything at the moment.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe.

“It is,” Renjun agrees.

Why is it so natural for you to sit next to him, get along with him?

“I haven’t been able to go out like this for a while, so it’s a lot to take in at once.”

He glances at you.

“Really? Why?”

Suddenly the air feels tightening.

“Um. Health stuff. I guess.”

Renjun nods. “That’s understandable. But going out might be good for you. It’s nice to get a little fresh air every once in a while.”

His words hit differently. It rings inside of you, making you sit up.

“You’re right, Renjun. I should go out more.” Your voice is quiet but smooth.

Suddenly, he laughs. It’s a beautiful sound flowing out in a beautiful place.

“I say that, but honestly, I’m also holed up inside all day. I need to go out more too.”

You don’t get what he means by that- why does it matter to a non-existent person how often they go outside?- but the feeling of just being here is incredible. You can’t waste your time in this dream pondering on pointless thoughts.

“You should take advantage of it. You never know what could happen one day. Never take things for granted.” You finish, voice suddenly serious.

He looks surprised. “Oh. I suppose you’re right. Thanks, y/n.”

Instead of responding, you sit back on the ground, looking at the dream -but still beautiful- sky.

Your hand pats around for a second before landing on its target. Your fingers wrap around renjun's, pulling him back so he plops down next to you with a grunt.

“Geez, could’ve given a warning.”

“There’s no need for warnings here,” you sigh.

Sure, the clouds aren’t real, but you’ll take any chance to see something you can’t in reality anymore.

“Y/n,” he starts.

And when you turn to look at him, his face is a lot closer than you thought.

There’s a pause.

The last things you remember are his long fluttering eyelashes and alluring brown eyes- ones that look so realistic and strangely familiar?

That morning, you wake up with the scent of the woods still lingering in the air and a little more ease in your heart.

ꔫ

Over the next couple of months, Renjun keeps appearing. And you’re completely fine, even delighted with that.

Now you’re always excited to go to bed, hoping each night that you’ll dream about him.

Even as the days get hotter and your a/c is definitely getting overused, you find yourself thinking about him and imagining if he was next to you.

You had to keep reminding yourself that Renjun wasn’t real. No matter how much you wished he was.

But you still considered Renjun your friend. Technically, your only friend.

And each time you met in your dreams, you felt happier and more content. You felt alive next to him, your heart that always beat faster around him only confirming it.

Sometimes you’d spot Renjun in a place from your memories, and sometimes he would appear in a completely unfamiliar area to you.

You didn’t care enough to think twice. A new place with new sights was a highlight to your encounters.

And today, it was no different. A colorful park. You know you’ve never been here before, but it feels like you’ve seen it somewhere..... perhaps somewhere online?

Ever since the second time you met him, you noticed a theme with the unknown places you sometimes ended up in.

Mostly in nature, surrounded by fresh air and plentiful green. You were confused, but I mean, who cares? They were beautiful, peaceful. Places that made you forget everything.

You find Renjun sitting down at a nearby bench, messing with his hands.

“Hi.”

He looks up, attempting to smile, but it falls short. “Hello, y/n.”

That’s interesting. Renjun always seemed happy to see you. At this point, you can tell when he’s acting strange or not.

You decide to play along. “What’s up?”

“Oh. It’s nothing. Just really stressed about upcoming school stuff.” You cock an eyebrow, amused. This isn’t the first time you’ve felt weird when he says something like that.

“You know, for being an imaginary character, you sure act like a real person.”

“What did you just say?” Renjun stands up.

You follow, getting up and looking at him, confused. “What?”

“What the hell do you mean by imaginary?”

“Imaginary? You don’t exist -like you’re not real?”

“No way.”

Your eyebrows raise. Why was he getting so defensive over this?

“I’m not an imaginary character- you are.”

A scoff escapes your lips. What the fuck?

“Stop talking nonsense.” Even though you’re trying to stand your ground, you can’t help but reevaluate everything. You look at him, panicked but still staring straight into his eyes as if to say, stop the joking right now.

Renjun only stares at you, fighting back with a headstrong expression. “I’m not. So you should stop too.”

You place your hand on his arm, inhaling.

Renjun tries to pull away, bewildered, but you keep your grip.

His arm feels warm, veins partially showing through. Almost like a real.....no way. But there’s even a faint scar on his wrist. Your brain couldn’t possibly be so meticulous as to add such details to a fictional person.

Your eyes flick to Renjun, studying him, memorizing everything you can about him.

Your breathing is heavy as you step closer to him, almost in a daze. “If you’re not just an imaginary person I created in my dreams,” you whisper, watching as he swallows and his adam’s apple bobs up and down-

“Then who are you?”

But before he can say anything, the world fades to black.

You wake up with an immense urge to scream in frustration but also hide away to just think everything over.

You lay in bed for what feels like hours. Contemplating. Panicking.

This was a joke, wasn’t it?

He’s lying.

Just a dream?

But this time, you can’t say that it was “just a dream..”

Your hand punches the bed in defeat.

You don’t understand. How are you able to see another living and breathing human in your dreams?

All the things and places you were able to dream about were because of your memories. But Renjun... Renjun was a complete stranger.

So how are you able to see him perfectly fine?

You think back to all the previous times you met him.

If he truly was real, then he must’ve been dreaming too? Since he believed you weren’t real either?

And all the unrecognizable places you saw -they must exist in real life?

That means.... you and Renjun must be sharing dreams.

There were a lot of questions. All that were making your brain pound.

More importantly, how the fuck are you even able to share dreams with another person?

ꔫ

You spend every night praying that you’ll fall asleep and see Renjun again.

Renjun? Is that even his real name?

Oh my god, you don’t know anything about him.

But for some reason, it isn’t hard for you to wrap your head around the fact that he exists.

His reaction seemed so real -he couldn’t possibly be faking right?

You smack your head on the pillow. Many times. Repeating, “Go to sleep. Dream. Go to sleep,” over and over again.

Until eventually, you do.

And when you find yourself at your old middle school- gross- you immediately start.

Getting up, you navigate throughout the old place. Everywhere’s blurry and hazy though, you suppose it’s because you haven’t been here in a while and forgot.

Where is he? You know he has to be here somewhere.

You spot his familiar silhouette. Target acquired.

He must’ve felt your presence too, since he turns around to face you.

You’re about to say his name, but then you remember the whole ‘he’s actually a real person thing’ and then you can only splutter out an accusing “you!” with an accompanying point of a finger.

“Me?” His eyes widen. “No-you’re not supposed to be a real person. So who are you?”

“I’m y/n.” You repeat yourself again with more force.

“This is my dream, and you’re in it. Look,” you gesture around. “This is my old school. If I wasn’t real, could we be here at a place like this?”

Renjun falters, and you exhale. “I’m not joking. I swear. My name is y/l/n y/n.”

He holds his hands out. “B-but how? How can you-?”

You shake your head wearily. “I don’t know. I don’t even know you!”

He sighs in defeat. “My name is Renjun. Huang Renjun. And I promise I’m not joking either. I truly thought you were just a figment of my imagination.”

You nod, fidgeting before holding out a hand. “Well then, I believe you. Nice to meet you,” you look into his glittering eyes, “Huang Renjun.”

When his hand touches yours, you feel a rush of emotions.

You think he does too, judging by his tightening grip on yours.

He quickly takes his hand away, making you frown. “And just to prove it, you know the forest we were at once?”

You nod, recalling the pretty leaves. You haven’t seen leaves in a while.....

“It’s near my city in the real world. And that mountain too.”

Then it hits you. You glance up at Renjun, surprised.

“No way. I know where you’re talking about. You live like, a couple of hours away from me.”

“Wait, really? Where do you-“

You sit up, feeling the familiar sensation of a blanket around your legs.

And then let out a loud screech of frustration - while also internally apologizing to your neighbors.

ꔫ

When you meet Renjun in the next dream, you pick off where you left off, and move into telling each other about your actual lives.

“You study plants? That explains why we’re always near grass in your dreams.”

“Hey!”

“I’m joking. It’s really nice. I like it more than you may think..”

“Seriously,” you look up from your position on his lap, “savor it while you can.”

He nods dutifully. To others, it may seem annoying or strange that you’re constantly telling him to enjoy when he still has the time, but Renjun appreciates it.

It’s always a nice reminder.

He assumes something must’ve happened to you before, but nevertheless, he doesn’t pry.

“What about you? What are you studying?”

Suddenly, you can’t look at him. You're unable to tell him that you don’t even attend school anymore.

“Um, I’m still deciding... it’s hard, you know?”

“I get it. Comfortably take your time. You don’t have to rush, do what you want.”

Your heart warms.

“Can you cook?”

“Eh.”

“What about roller skating?”

“I’m a pro.”

“Bet I could beat you.”

“Oh yeah? Just wait, one day we’ll go together in person, and I’ll kill you at it.”

“What about aliens?”

Your eyebrows raise. “What about aliens?”

“What- what do you think of them?”

“Oh. Aliens are cool.”

“Do you think they’re real?

“Sure. I mean, if we’re able to share dreams like this, then why can’t aliens exist too?”

You miss the growing smile on renjun’s face.

“.... is this what you really look like in real life?”

“What- yes! Why would I look like someone else in my dream?”

“I dunno, you’re a lot more handsome than most guys I can remember..” you trail off, hoping he doesn’t catch the rest of the sentence. He does.

That goes on for a while, asking each other random questions. But while you’re still here in the dream, you should take advantage of it.

Standing up, you brush yourself off.

“Huh, what’s up y/n?”

“The sky.”

Renjun scowls.

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you.”

And then you sprint off, yelling, “first one to the tree gets bragging rights!!”

Renjun falls halfway, and you have to help him and his dramatic ass.

ꔫ

When Renjun brings up the prospect of possibly meeting each other in real life, you’re both really excited at first.

But then it hits you. That’s right. You’re kinda blind at the moment.

You never once told him about your... sight problems, probably because you first thought he wasn’t even a real person, and it never seemed important.

As Renjun sits there, excitedly listing off ways to find each other that actually while you’re awake, you can only absentmindedly nod, a storm brewing inside you.

It makes your insides churn. Should you tell him?

You hated lying, but there was that growing insecurity rising up.

What if he finds out everything and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore?

What if Renjun doesn’t want to be your friend?

What if...

He leaves you?

“Y/n???” He waves a hand in front of you.

You blink. “Yes?”

“I was just talking about how it’ll take around 3 hours to take the subway to your city or, yours to mine. When we both have a free day, we should meet up!”

He looks so excited and cute, but you still cringe. When was the last time you took the subway?

You nod uneasily. Renjun must notice your expression because he turns concerned, “Are you alright?”

You hastily smile. “Fine. Just really stressed about upcoming school stuff,” you joke.

That answer must be good enough because he drops the subject.

What have you gotten yourself into?

ꔫ

And for the first time, you’re scared to dream.

Scared to see Renjun.

Stress and anxiety gnaw at your head, swirling thoughts constantly floating in and out.

Renjun won’t like you anymore.

He doesn’t want to be with a liar.

And after he excitedly mentions that he obtained an internship near your city in the spring, your guilt and frustration grow more.

Since that one conversation, you’ve been having more and more headaches, most likely because of the lack of sleep from stress.

Renjun’s probably sleeping peacefully hours away from you as you stay up, plagued with concerns.

You shake your head, wanting to get rid of bad thoughts so the pain doesn’t overtake your brain again.

Think of happy things. Happy memories when you were young and carefree.

Like.... the one water park you went to with your friends years ago. That was a good memory.

You rack your brain.

Wait a second -what did it look like again?

ꔫ

As the air turns colder, you have to bust out the old heater that hasn’t been used in years-the dust floating in the air lingered for days.

Overtaking your breathing, your brain.

Just like your thoughts.

You’re still constantly worrying about Renjun. Because of Renjun.

And yourself.

You and Renjun.

Renjun and you.

All those thoughts weren’t good for you. Why you may ask?

More thoughts lead to overthinking.

Overthinking leads to stress.

Stress causes the agonizing headaches.

And those headaches are the bane of your existence.

Because it makes you unable to recall.

The headaches weren’t a big deal at first. After the car accident, the doctors said your brain seemed clear for the most part.

But obviously- it wasn’t- since you were here now with daily migraines- the pain multiplied from anxiety.

And that caused your memory loss.

It was simple things at first, just like what you ate for the day and where you put your stuff. (It was already difficult since you couldn’t see, and the forgetful memory was making it so much worse)

And then it was the more important recollections.

Like what your parents' birthdays were. Your favorite restaurant. What schools you attended.

You don’t want to admit that the only thing left perfectly clear in your brain is yours truly, Huang Renjun.

This isn’t happening.

Pigs can’t fly and.... you can’t remember.

Why? Every time you try to think of something, your brain pounds like crazy.

You really don’t want to believe it’s an effect of the accident. And the stress.

You don’t want to think about it at all.

But sadly, you were still human and had to sleep.

Which meant eventually dreaming sooner or later...

“Y/n!”

Wait. What?

“What’s going on?”

No. What’s happening?

“I know people don’t dream that often, but three months and nothing from you? I went to bed, happy at the thought that we might meet again, but it’s like you’re purposely not sleeping and avoiding me or something-!”

There’s no way you heard everything he just said, even his irritated tone that you’ve never heard before didn’t faze you.

Due to the fact that everything except Renjun himself was a blur.

Basically- you couldn’t see shit.

Your heart rate begins to pick up. You swirl around, squinting and rubbing your eyes like crazy.

Why? Why is this happening? Why can’t you see the dream world around you?

But you know the reason- it’s quite obvious.

Since your memory disappeared just like that. And without your memories, everything has crumbled to nothing.

Ironically, you forgot about Renjun who was still standing there, perfectly fine.

“Y/n? What wrong?”

He snaps a finger in front of you, and you barely react.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” Your voice has been reduced to a whisper.

“Listen-I-why are you lying? I thought we were friends. I thought we trusted each other enough to talk honestly.”

It’s too much. Renjun’s growing anger plus everything you’re experiencing at the moment is overwhelming.

“Just stop-!” You screech, arms held out in front to protect yourself from everything.

He freezes.

And you collapse on the ground, hands shaking as you look around. Look for anything you can clearly see.

There’s nothing.

The worst pain ever runs through your brain- the feeling to curl up in a ball and stop everything is strong.

“Y/n- please. Please talk to me.”

He leans in front of you.

“I- see-“ you splutter, collecting your thoughts.

Your mouth forms the words but immediately comes to a halt.

He doesn’t know.

You stare at him, helpless. Your eyes flicking all over the place, pupils dilated.

Renjun does the only thing he can think of at the moment.

He places his lips on yours, and your eyes automatically close.

Your heart steadies, adrenaline slowly fading.

He just feels... right.

And then his hand brings your body closer to his, making-

You sit up in bed, breathing heavily.

All you can think is,

what a dream.

And as much as you still feel the ghost of his soft lips on yours, you can’t get over the fact that everything else was blurry.

You could only see faint lights and shadows.

You couldn’t remember.

ꔫ

No.

What does the sky look like again?

No.

Why can’t you remember the day anymore?

You spend days- weeks maybe even- trying to recall as much as possible. And spend less time attempting to sleep for the chance that you’ll have to see Renjun again.

Your mind is in shambles. One part of you is yearning to see him -find Renjun in the dreams again and explain everything.

But the other part is scared. Extremely terrified at his reaction. His feelings.

Will he still- you dare to say- like you?

I mean, that kiss had to mean something, right?

Right?

You smack the nearest object in exasperation.

I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.

Can everything just stop?

Your poor pillow has been punched into oblivion by now.

Either way, you fall into what could be considered a slump.

A slump in life.

The uncomfortable sensation grows bigger and bigger each day since the only thing you can do is stay at home and dwell on the fact that your life is basically over now.

There's no recovery in sight -ha- of your future.

Each night is spent exerting your aching brain to recall.

The only thing that comes back is Huang Renjun.

But once again, you’re only human. A human that occasionally passes out from the lack of sleep.

Renjun would be nagging at you. Your heart automatically drops at the thought of him. How long has it been since you last seen him?

More importantly- how long has it been since you last properly slept?

You can’t even see yourself but you know the eye bags you’re carrying are bigger and brighter than your future.

You call out for Siri.

“It’s currently 3:21 AM.“

You sigh, so desperately wanting to chuck your phone across the room even though you know finding where you threw it would take hours.

Pathetic.

And then you figured you must’ve fallen asleep.

Because you open your eyes. And at first, it just seems like another day of barely making it through life, but no- this is different.

You’re not in your bed. You’re on a blank, hard surface.

You realize where you are right as a familiar voice calls out your name.

The fear that courses through you is a feeling to laugh at.

“What the fuck, y/n.”

There’s no way you’re getting out of this.

“What’s going on? I just wanna know why. You ghost me for months without saying anything. I deserve an explanation.” Renjun’s fists are clenched at his side, anger barely seeping through.

You sigh wearily, partly from him and partly from the fact that you still can’t see anything else except his face.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been going through stuff, okay?” You hope your tone is enough to tell him that you don’t want to talk about this anymore.

But it isn’t.

“What things? You can tell me, y/n. I thought we were close enough for that. I thought we trusted each other.”

As much as your heart clenches at his words, it isn’t enough to suppress the frustration building inside you.

“This isn’t about trust, Renjun. It doesn’t matter if I trust you or not. What does it have to do with me telling you about my life? It’s my privacy.”

His eyes burn into yours.

“So you don’t trust me?”

“What- of course, I do! Why are you so stuck up on that?”

“Cause I care about you,” he groans, running his hands through his hair. “I care about you- a lot- but clearly, you don’t seem to return the feelings!”

“What? What makes you think that!?”

“Because you act like this!” He forcefully gestures. “Because you push me away without any explanation and don’t show any sign of your feelings! Don’t seem affected like I am when I haven’t seen you in months and miss you, okay?”

You pinch your nose bridge, annoyed. “Well, I’m different. If you cared about me that much, wouldn’t you have noticed?”

You know your words mean nothing. They’re just randomly produced from the deepest, darkest insecurities that are pent up inside and need to escape.

“What’s so different about you? As far as I’ve known and seen you, you’re just another human like me-“

“-Because I can’t see fucking anything, okay?” You yell, forcing yourself to take a breath.

“I’ve been blind for what seems like forever, and at first it was all okay, but now I can’t remember anything except you, which means I can’t see shit. Is that a good enough answer for you?”

You feel your body trembling, barely able to look at him.

A good silence lasts for a couple of minutes.

You turn around, anywhere away so you don’t have to look at his face anymore- since he’s stupidly the only thing you can even see.

You don’t know what to feel. Perhaps relief for finally saying it? Exhaustion from keeping everything pent up and finally letting it all out?

Then you recognize the sensation.

You’re waking up.

You think Renjun calls your name at the exact moment. But it’s too late. You’re already gone at that point.

And now you don’t know what to do.

ꔫ

After that, you get the best sleep in your life. There’s surprisingly no more stress about lying to Renjun, you already spilled everything.

On the other hand, there is his whole response. But you bury those worries deep inside.

Maybe it’s for the better, you think. After the fight, you couldn’t the guilt go. The angered lies that slipped from your lips won’t leave.

Renjun doesn’t deserve someone like you.

But for once, you decide to go out. To get some needed fresh air like someone once advised you to, and also because you’re running out of food to eat.

Before you leave, you grab the sunglasses on the counter and put them on. Most people would just think you’re avoiding the spring sun, which is exactly what you wanted.

You didn’t want them to see your blank stare and then realize that you had lost your sight. It was simply more comfortable for you and others.

It was always a challenge to go out. Strange how normal people would never think twice before closing the door behind them and entering the outside world, but it became something you had to prepare yourself for.

Taking a deep breath, you close the door behind you and navigate as best as you can to the nearby cafe.

Sure, you barely left your place, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy a refreshing drink outside every once in a while.

Two people bump into your side, and you barely spare them a second, continuing on.

An apology is given, but you brush it off, hiding your face and quickly continuing on.

That’s strange. One of the voices sounded really familiar, but it was too quick, and you barely heard the voice enough to pinpoint it.

It happened all the time- if not always- running into another person. But this time, it was different. After touching the stranger's shoulder by accident, it felt like a flame burst inside of you. Intense enough to make your head spin a little and set your body alight.

And the sun wasn’t making it better.

Gosh, why is the sun so bright today?

You brush it off, opening the door to the cafe and taking your sunglasses off to be polite and not seem weird or suspicious.

You squint at the board, cautiously walking to the register and ordering.

After they confirm your order, you find a nice spot alone in the corner.

It’s not too busy or slow today, you note. But soon boredom overcomes you, and eventually, you find yourself staring at the entrance door whenever someone new enters for no reason in particular.

The entrance bell rings, and your eyes subconsciously flick to see who it is.

Wait.

No fucking way.

It can’t be.

Huang Renjun?

in your city?

Entering the same cafe you were currently at?

You suddenly remember. One dream, a long time ago when he excitedly rambled on about that internship he got. Located where you lived. That’s right, he said it was in the springtime. And here he was now.

A string of curses run through your brain, your heart beginning to pick up its pace in panic.

You debate just leaving. But your order..... oh god, what if he sees you?

Will he recognize you? Stupid, obviously Renjun would recognize you.

What if he comes up to you?

Shit, you have no clue what to do.

Maybe if you just look away and hide your face when he passes, then he won’t see you.

You look down, pretending to be occupied with your shirt and shuddering when you hear his voice get closer.

You let out a tiny sigh of relief when he passes with someone else, you suppose a friend. But it’s not over.

“Order for y/n!”

You unleash more curses internally. Of course, they had to call your name. Of fucking course.

You desperately hope Renjun isn’t paying attention.

Exhaling, you try to act as normal as possible walking up to get your drink. But before you even make it there, you can feel eyes on you. It burns the back of your head.

You scream into your mouth, teeth gritting to barely muffle the sound.

It’s okay, just pretend you can’t see him -you already yelled at him confessing that you were blind anyway, so maybe he thinks that you can’t see him.

It’s fine.

Act normal.

You obtain your order and take one step carefully at a time.

Oh no.

Oh no- he’s coming towards you. You can just barely see in your peripheral view Renjun approaching and getting closer.

“Y/n.”

You try not to stiffen at his voice. Just act like you’re blind and can’t see him.

Turning around, you pretend to act blank. “Yes? Who’s talking to me?”

“Y/n,” Renjun says more insistently.

“I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you. Who are you?”

And then his hand reaches out to yours.

You panic, swatting it away.

You hear renjun's breath hitch. “Wait- how did you do that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Y-you,” he stutters, “you blocked my hand. B-but how? I don’t-“

You frown. “Cause I saw it?”

Your hand raises up to cover your mouth.

You saw his hand.

You can see.

What- when did this happen?

How did this happen?

Why didn’t you notice?

There are so many things swirling in your mind, but Renjun calls your name again.

You look back at him, truly look at him, and suddenly it’s like all the puzzle pieces fit together.

He’s breathtaking. It’s so different seeing him in person and not in your dreams. If anything, you’re jealous of how much prettier he seems in real life.

You’re not sure how long you stare at each other. Seeing those eyes that once captivated your soul right in front of you.

“The last time I saw you was in my dream,” you breathe, “but it feels like the first time I’m meeting you.”

Renjun doesn’t say anything, and abruptly you find yourself in his arms.

You don’t care that you’re hugging in the middle of a public place, it just feels so right.

You bury your face in his shoulder, unable to speak.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you. I was just so afraid at what you'd say, and I just liked you too much and I’m sorry-“

Renjun pulls back, staring at you like he hasn’t seen anything more magnificent before.

“It doesn’t matter. You can tell me everything you want now.”

ꔫ

“I’m happy to report that the swelling in your optic nerves has gone down. It’s like a miracle occurred,” the doctor remarks.

Luckily, renjun’s internship lasted for a couple weeks, and you were able to spend as much time as possible with him. The only time you weren’t next to his side was when he was working or you were at the doctor's to check up on your condition.

There was no more blankness. There were no more headaches. It’s like Renjun brought a breath of fresh air into your life. It’s almost like he was meant for you.

You simply smile and laugh at the doctor as you think,

Yes, a miracle did happen. One where I met the person who seemed only like a dream and learned the most important lesson in my life.

That dreams really can come true.

Bonus :

“Renjun, you’re going the wrong way.”

“Well excuse me for not having ever been to this place before.”

“Okay, you’re excused.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, and you grin cheekily before taking his hand.

“C’mon, we still have to get to the top.”

“Did you get the blankets?”

“Yep.”

“And the snacks?”

“Yeah, yeah. I got your favorite.”

It’s been so long since you came here. Your favorite spot to stargaze. The one you went to all the time before the accident. The one you were going to when the car accident happened.

But this time it was different. You had Renjun next to you.

After ten minutes of hiking and Renjun complaining, you finally make it to the top of the secluded hill, the night sky seeming so close and yet so far.

Renjun takes everything in with a breath. “Wow. I can see why you love this place.”

You feel a rush of emotions. How long has it been since you were able to come here and see the stars?

You two set up the blankets and sit back, embracing the sight.

He sits down on the blanket, and you automatically lie down next to him, placing your head in his lap.

“Doesn’t this remind of you that one dream where we saw your city from above?”

Renjun grins. “I remember that. I still thought that you were just a fake simulation or whatever. And now look, we’re together in real life.”

You hum thoughtfully.

“Thank you, Renjun.”

He looks down at you. “For what?”

Suddenly you can’t look him in the eye. “For everything. For being my friend and never leaving,” you gulp, nervous.

“I... I love you.”

Renjun jerks a little, eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

You breathe in, out. “I love you, huang renjun.”

He starts laughing for some reason, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“I love you too.”

After that, you enjoy the peaceful silence and the buzz of the insects.

“...don’t you think this would be a hotspot for aliens to come to? This field is so vast and secluded -if I were an alien, I would come here a lot.”

You shrug. “I don’t know. But I guess I would too.”

Renjun suddenly looks at you with an accusing glare. And you catch on, smacking his side.

“Don’t even think about it.”

He feigns ignorance. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Okay sure. You totally weren’t gonna say something about how I could be an extraterrestrial creature from another planet since I come here so often.”

“Well-”

You stuff food in his mouth to shut him up.

He chews for a minute or two before talking again.

“.... what if we get abducted by them?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. I’ve been here so many times, and nothing happened to me.”

“Maybe that’s because you are a-“

“Oh my gosh. Just stop. And trust me, if I were one, you would already be abducted with that face,” you joke.

You look up from your spot on his lap, staring up at the twinkling lights in the dark sky.

“It doesn't matter, I’m not scared.”

Renjun looks down at you with a curious smile. “Why?”

“Because everything got a little better when I saw you.”

And the stars seem to agree, twinkling in the background when your lips reach up to meet his.

You had so many questions that couldn’t be answered.

But maybe it would all be okay.

Because you could suddenly see the spring again.

a/n: if you made it to the end, thank you for reading :)

also i tried my best to research as much as i could on all related topics to this work yadaddaa but if there are errors and inaccuracies, i apologize!

taglist: @elcie-chxn @dearseungie

unable to tag: @flower-lise

#cznnet #kpopscape #nct #nct dream #huang renjun #renjun #renjun x reader #nct dream x reader #huang renjun x reader #renjun scenarios #huang renjun scenarios #renjun imagines #huang renjun imagines #nct x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #renjun fluff #renjun angst

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hazelcephalopod · 2 years

Text

The Eye of the World Ch 8-11

Disclaimer: this is my first read thru but I’ve watched the first 4 episodes of the show and been spoiled on some things. So… I’m going to lean into that. Enjoy figuring out what I know and what I think in know and what I don’t. Also s/x I add commentary when I edit.

Spoilers for the first book under the cut.

Previews:

Ch 9, “the real beginning”.

ch 10, Have I been spelling Moiraine wrong? Don’t worry about it. It’s fine now.

Immediate impression: This was a tense section! Really gets across that yes they need to go and go quickly and they take it very seriously. Aka “yes we have to run. No, we are not stopping.”

Ch 8

Dude I know you’re going thru it. But he raised you for your entire however many years of life. He’s your dad.

Damn Rand does not like magic. Honestly… I’m interpreting it it as an even greater foreboding than the average person in his case

Jordan: did you notice this thing? Are you sure? Just to be clear you got that right?

… and I’m not even mad honestly I’m still having fun with it. Like, it’s kinda endearing

Oh so Ravens are literally kinda on the side of evil here. Ok. (Or at least even Moiraine thinks so)

Also. Moraine just being the best. She does want to help!

Yup. Doesn’t matter if you walk in the Light. Or not. That tracks. (Certainly helps to not walk directly into the darkness, I imagine.)

Cool. Magic items!

Oh shit. Eyeless! I mean I knew but now I know. And even Lan is afraid of them.

Oof. ‘Well I healed you dad now… uh you’re going to have to leave the only home you’ve ever known and never planned on leaving forever’

Ah yes that Two River stubbornness. Argue and deny until there’s no room left to do so at all

Lol. ‘Yea uh come to the city of the magic women you and everyone else don’t really trust’

Also Moraine is for sure being a bit sly here.

Really? Well you are young

“He had to trust the Aes Sedai” -eotw (Rand). Mmm bad vibes

Yes I’m sure she doesn’t notice any of those looks Mayor

Yes! Get more confirmation.

I trust Moraine. That does not meant Rand should

Yup. Sleep. Glad we finally got there

Yes! What did I say? Hmm? We got there too! He’s your dad!

Ch 9

What? Fast forward? Dream? My moneys on dream

Oh no, this is a nightmare

I’d make a pithy comment about Shai’tan but I know enough of the lore of this world. Like… yup like the real world. Hint hint.

Oh… uh a better dream?

Nope. Not that much better after all!

Ok so… “He could not remember the face, except as terror.” Rand’s dream, I have thoughts. I’ll place them here and elsewhere. I’m the show… I don’t hate the design of scary dream guy but… like I don’t think I’d have shown his face at all? Instead focus on the dreamers face in horror and fear whenever anyone looks at it, lean into the inability of the human mind to look upon it. That’s it. Could be worse but there’s my 2 cents.

And the dream shifts again.

Trap. It’s trying to keep him. So, trap

Ok maybe not the trap I thought but still a trap. Destiny is a cage

Oh no I was right the first time. Trap trap. Always trust your instincts!

Destiny is still a cage tho

And he’s actually awake. No not inception jokes. Eff that

Night falls. Time to go!

“Apparently he had slept with the sword hilt jabbing him in the ribs.” Oww. I know it’s the blunt end but still (&…)

Food!

He actually gets to talk to his dad!? Yes! I’m so happy for them!

“We’re luckier than some…” -Rand to Tam about the farm. And it’s genuinely optimistic too. Which is nice

Right? Remember exact words? No. Absolutely not

Tam always with the good advice honestly. Dude be careful around everyone tho

Yes! Tam also nails that one. Be careful.

Maybe just a friend. Ya know. That’s all some people want. A friend, with a sword.

Oh no. Mat…

But yay May?! At least he’s here. Where’s Perrin?

Ah. Scared people trouble.

Mayor Bran continues to be the best

‘Al’ does mean either ‘son of’ then!

If you wanted the deep lore look no further. (I do want the deep lore!)

“This was the real beginning…” it’s chapter nine I remind you

Ch 10

Have I been spelling Moiraine wrong? Don’t worry about it. It’s fine now.

I’m told it’s the real beginning. Once again.

Btw. Im really curious to see how Egwene and Nynaeve get in on this trip. I’m guessing to go after them and bring them back

Perrin!

Ohhh! I’m wrong -on one account. Of course Egwene knows. She listens in! I’m proud of her

Thoms coming too! Oh yesss. I did like him, despite his flaws

And I’m continuing to like him by the minute

Oh right Bela!

“We will look after each other.” -Egwene. It’s what people need to do

Just a militia

Oh scary bird thing.

No immediate explanation on whatever a Draghkar is? That’s honestly one of the scarier things that has happened! Like… it’s that bad and things are that dangerous? No three page explaination of it’s entire history (for the record I am a bit disappointed. I like the lore)

Ch 11

Egwene not important?!

Also he seems nearly as worried about Bela (a horse) as Egwene lol

Food! Also a village. No not to stop at!

Idk seems like Tar Valon is a long way. Probably gonna have to rest somewhere at some point

Creepy fog becomes friendly mist!

Oh Taren Ferry is like a whole town here! Cool

Oh that ferry is going tonight

Fear and money go a long way

Oh lol. He has to get everyone up. Idk if everyone is people or horses but all the same.

Also all the horrifying screams throughout the chapter and barking dogs.

#the wheel of time #wheel of time #wot #many thoughts on twot teotw #< block or filter to stop seeing these posts #the eye of the world #eotw spoilers #twot book #twot book spoilers

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angelanimedesaray · 3 years

Text

A Demon’s Promise Part 3: Return the Favor

AN: CONGRADULATIONS EVERYBODY!!! My 1000th post is the longest smut piece I’ve done to date, and I am going to hell. Oof.

Also, hey, look, the plot is starting to peek through O.o

Characters: Incubus!Levi, Reader

Pairing: (Eventual) Levi x Reader

Warnings: Language--including here in the warnings. Hints of Angst. SMUUUUUTTTT!!!! Time for the kinky shit list: Oral, Blowjobs, Anal, Rough Sex, Overstimulation, Breeding Kink, Throat Fuck, Tail Play (Yup, that’s still here), Multiple Orgasms, Edging, a bit of Aftercare, Dubious Consent, No Protection (probably should have put this one on the last two chapters as well).

Word Count: 7265

<----Previous Part Masterlist Next Part---->

*Reader’s POV*

A thought had started to settle into your mind. Maybe it had always been there, but buried under the intense whirlwind that was your dreams of Levi and the mind-altering pleasure that he brought you every night. The aches and soreness after waking up, and then the bruises a bit more recently from the hickeys--any more physical, tangible evidence started to make you wonder if it really was just a rash of extremely kinky dreams.

Of course, that was impossible...but the idea was there nonetheless, lurking in the back of your mind. Even though you didn’t believe they were real, it was still something that was there, and apparently it was present enough to influence some decisions of yours.

For example, all these nights he came, he was always focused on you, on giving you pleasure. But after that unexpected thing with the tail, when you’d seen his control slip in the face of true pleasure, you’d realized you hadn’t really been given the chance to do anything for him in return. Besides what he had you do in the course of whatever sexy thing you were doing for the night, but it was always aimed towards getting you more riled up, or keeping him hard--or semi-clean and not so sticky at the end. You never once laid him down, and focused on him for a change--and he never once asked for it. You didn’t even think it was something on his mind, a thought or a possibility on his radar. He was so focused on servicing you, but for some reason thought nothing of servicing himself.

Besides that breeding kink of his that came into play with every dream. Was that some weird way of your subconscious telling you that you wanted kids or something?

Actually, the more you thought about it, whenever he orgasmed, it was always inside you--buried deep inside your pussy. Not down your throat, not when he was buried up your ass, not pulling out and onto your stomach, it was always buried inside you.

Again, probably part of that breeding kink, or maybe he was also into cockwarming.

Why were you here thinking about the man in your dreams like he was an actual person, he was literally a wet dream fantasy your brain had cooked up recently and wouldn’t stop sending to your sleeping mind.

At least, that was the more rational, reasonable explanation you had, but not one that fit the physical signs of sex in the mornings after.

In fact, it had gotten so bad, you were scheduling a doctor’s appointment to see if you were a rare case of sexsomnia or something--the idea came to you after you saw it on a medical drama playing on TV in the background while you made your dinner. Something was happening with you, and you figured it was about time to seek medical help in figuring out what was going on.

But that was still a few days away, and there were still several steamy nights with Levi to spend before getting to the bottom of what was medically going on with you to have continuous wet dreams. For now, the appointment was far from your mind, as this time when you drifted off to sleep and inevitably towards a dream of Levi, you had a goal for the first time.

Your mind was only in darkness for what felt like a few seconds before you felt the weight of a body against yours, the feel of lips along your jaw and a hand running along your stomach and down in between your legs to already start rubbing you through the fabric of your panties.

Someone was impatient, tonight. Too bad for him--you’d been talking yourself up to this considering the raw sexual energy Levi exuded in your dreams was rather intimidating, and you were not going to let yourself chicken out at the last minute.

“Levi…” you murmured as you were roused from your sleep, eyes fluttering open to stare upwards at the canopy of the black satin bed you were almost always inside. The sight disappeared as Levi shifted to lean over you, his eyes filling your vision for a few seconds before he kissed you, sparking a heady and almost lethargic sensation inside you as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, feeling his well-sculpted body pressing up against yours, fingers prodding underneath your panties to already start fingering you.

He was really trying to get right to it, tonight, wasn’t he?

It was only through sheer force of will that you managed to pull back from his heady kiss, gasping slightly as if you’d been drowning and blinking as if to disperse a fog as you focused back on the goal you had in mind.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you murmured, and Levi froze, staring warily at you as you tried to regain your bearings. He went in as if to kiss you again before you could say anything else, before you could regain your thoughts, and even though you came in to kiss him, moaning at the feel of his fingers already delving between your folds as his tongue swept into your mouth, you managed to gasp out your request around your very heated kiss.

“I want...to try something tonight,” you murmured, and you felt some of the tension from a few moments ago melt out of his shoulders at the admission.

“Someone feeling adventurous?” Levi asked in a low voice, pulling his head back just enough to speak before he trapped your lip between his teeth and gave a little pull, one of his fingers sliding inside you and earning a low moan, his thumb drawing dangerously close to your clit.

No, no, you were going to take charge here, you had a purpose, and he was not going to distract you from it in his insistence to always focus on your sexual needs.

It was his turn.

Your hand tangled deep in his hair, clutching at his head as you kissed him fiercely, leaning up into him and attempting to push him over onto his back so you were on top. It...didn’t work out. Too much muscle and a surprising amount of strength despite his small structure. He simply returned the fervor you brought to the table, body pressing tightly against yours, breathing picking up as the kiss grew sloppy, a knee slipping between your legs to spread you open for him…

You didn’t have control of this moment, but you needed it. As much as you usually sat back and let him please you, that’s not what you were aiming for tonight. This was a dream, though, right? Your dream. So if you wanted something, all you needed to do was picture it...and will it...and…

With a sudden tilt to the world that was honestly disorienting and left you reeling for a few moments, you and Levi were no longer on the bed. You were on that couch that occasionally made an appearance for certain positions you two tried, and Levi was underneath you, with you straddling his lap and your hands resting on either side of his neck. He broke away from the kiss almost as soon as the two of you landed in a different position, looking confused and even worried at the sudden change as he stared up at you cautiously. Maybe even...unsettled.

“How did you--”

“My dream, right?” you answered with a small smile, your nerves making your stomach squirm as you realized your moment of truth was here. “I want to do something different tonight,” you repeated, much more firmly than before, and a hand sliding down to his chest as a way to tell him to stay there for a second and stop making moves so you could make yours.

He was hot to the touch--not just warm, actually hot beneath your fingers, his skin unrealistically flawless, his features sharp, body chiseled. But you couldn’t help but wonder if there was something you just couldn’t see, especially after that tail reveal last time.

Something that was missing this time, you noticed. Or at least at the moment. Like you only saw it when he wanted you to. No, when you wanted to--he was a figment of your imagination, right?

Fuck, how did all this work? None of it made any sense, yet here you were, rolling with it, trying to seduce your fantasy seducer.

Those thoughts were for another time. All these nights, he had every chance to learn every inch of your body, memorize you inside and out, but you hadn’t had much of a chance to really explore him, to touch him, memorize his lines, make him vocalize in pleasure--beyond those few times when he got caught up in the high of an approaching orgasm, or the time you’d found how much of an erogenous zone his tail was--when you could see it.

Your hands moved slowly down his body, fingers dipping and curving upwards along his abdomen as you felt to about midway, then brought your hands back up as if to rememorize every muscle and curve before your hands glided over his shoulders--something you were already familiar with after all the times you’d clung to them--and started feeling along his arms.

He was holding still for you for the time being, but he was watching you sharply, as if trying to get in your head and figure out what you were doing. You were just relieved he’d stopped long enough to let you start, considering how fast he normally was, leaving no time to breathe after one high before he tried out the next on your body.

The thought suddenly made you worried, and in an effort to keep him from getting bored by your slow movements, you moved in to kiss him suddenly and firmly, attempting to get your tongue to dominate and slide into his mouth unhindered for a change. He kissed you back, but there was a surprisingly hesitant and reserved feeling about it, like he wasn’t sure how to react to what you were doing, like he was still thinking out how he was supposed to respond to this. His arms were wrapping around your lower waist, which you let happen, feeling him pull you closer as his lips started to press harder against yours again, feeling his cock sliding against your abdomen, moving closer to your pussy…

“Mhm,” you hummed, pulling away from the kiss and dropping to his neck, shifting your hips back to avoid letting him thrust inside you. As much as your body had practically been trained to crave his dick inside you, you needed your wits about you to start--that could come later.

Levi was tensing up again even as your lips kissed along his neck, feeling for his pulse point and attempting to put little hickeys along his skin like he had done to you. While that was happening, your hands, which had returned to his chest, started to play with his nipples, fingers brushing in bare touches against them, hearing his breathing grow heavier and feeling his skin jump with every touch.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice gruff. He wasn’t stopping you yet, which was a good sign, but the fact that he seemed confused that you were turning the tables and giving him attention of your own free will, that he hadn’t figured out that’s what you were doing...was it because he didn’t consider it in the realm of possibility, for someone to give him the kind of sexual attention he gave? The thought hurt your heart a little, but considering it was an assumption and something you couldn’t ask without ruining the mood, you tabled the concern for the time being.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you asked with the slightest frown, seeing his jaw clench as your fingers started to idly play with his nipples like he’d done to you not too long ago. “You always treat me so well--I want to make you feel good for once.”

To emphasize your point, you slid back in his lap, bringing your head down to trap one of his nipples with your lips and swirl it around with your tongue, giving it a few hard sucks while your other hand idly played with his other nipple.

He didn’t seem that vocal, not like he had been when you’d played with the base of his tail, but it could have been his distraction with his confusion, or the fact that he just wasn’t very vocal to start. His breathing was more ragged, which told you this was at least doing something to him.

His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you back towards him and causing you to release his nipples as he pulled you close enough he could have reached out and bitten your lip without any effort on his part, his cock once more pressed against your abdomen.

“We’re not here for me, we’re here for you--your wants, your needs,” he murmured, trying to shift attention from him, his eyes locked on you.

“Fine...but what I want right now, is to give you what you want,” you answered. This had to be the most the two of you had talked outside of during-sex talk, right?

“I want to pleasure you. That’s what I’m here for,” Levi returned without missing a beat. Except, the delivery wasn’t quite believable. Something about that sentence rang hollow, like it wasn’t the full truth, just a line he said. And while he gazed at you, you realized you couldn’t look away, you were being pulled into those blue depths, pulled in closer to his lips, body giving in even as your mind clung to your goal.

Your fingers brushed against his lips a moment before he would have sealed you in that strength sapping, hypnotic kiss of his.

“No--not what you can do for me. Tell me what I can do for you. It’s still your show, but tonight, I want to focus on you, not me,” you said lowly, eyes searching his willingly, and not just because something kept you drawn to them. You came closer to him, lips brushing along his cheekbone as you moved closer to his ear, one of your hands moving slowly and lightly down his spine, noting proudly with the other hand that followed behind the first that it made goosebumps break out across that flawless skin of his.

“Let me taste your skin...let me suck on your cock...let me touch your tail and feel it against my skin again...I’ll ride your cock, your face, I’ll even eat out your ass if you ask me. Tell me what to do to make you cum. And at the end, just like we always do, you can breed me. But what I want right now…” Your hand slipped between the two of you, grasping at his cock and starting to slowly massage his length in your hand. He grunted, a soft moan escaping him that you almost hadn’t heard. “...Is to hear that, all night. I want to hear you feel pleasure because of me tonight, Levi...Please...let me pleasure you.”

As you finished your words in a soft whimper, nibbling slightly on his jaw, you heard his breath hitch, and he went still. You couldn’t understand why this was such a hard thing for him to grasp, why he hesitated, why this seemed to shake him. Why would it be so strange for the person he’d pleasured so much to want to return the favor, at least once? Had you done something wrong? Had you said something to upset him without realizing it? Should you just lay back and let him go about his original plans for the night?

And if this was your dream, and he was a man conjured up by your mind, why would he hesitate and resist to do what you wanted like this?

Trying to coax him into reacting since his silence was making you nervous, you carefully started kissing along his skin, moving lower and lower, feeling his eyes follow you even though he still wasn't moving a muscle. Your hands moved along his thighs, surprised as you crouched down between his legs to find that the ground beneath your feet had turned soft and supple, more ideal and less punishing for someone on their knees. Once you were in position, you started kissing along the inside of his thighs, well aware of how close to your face his cock currently was, close enough you’d just have to turn your head to brush up against it.

As you came close to starting in on your offer to really taste him, he finally moved, hand moving out to touch your cheek. You thought maybe he meant to stop you after seeing the look in your eyes.

“You don’t have to, really,” he said, attempting to stop you once again, but you weren’t budging on this.

“I want to,” you returned in a low voice, and before you two could continue in these ridiculous and ultimately pointless circles, you leaned forward and placed a far-from-chaste kiss at the side of his cock. You felt the grip of his fingers tighten for a second, heard his breath catch again, and decided just to go for it.

Gently, you let your hand wrap around the base of his cock, letting the shaft brush against your cheek as you pulled back to get into position, letting your lips wrap softly around the very tip. Your tongue swirled experimentally around the soft skin of his cock's head, getting used to the feel and taste of him in your mouth and trying to predict how difficult it would be to take in more. Your fingers moved slowly up his cock from the base until you were holding his cock to your mouth like you were taste testing and trying to keep drops of food from escaping with your fingers.

Levi’s hand shifted from your cheek to the back of your head, grabbing at your hair. For a wild second, you thought he might pull you off him.

But as your lips ventured a little further to take the full head of his cock into your mouth, his fingers--still tangled lightly in your hair--slipped down the back of your neck. His legs spread a little wider to give you more space to work, and he leaned back in his seat, head tilted upwards and resting on the back of the couch so he could gaze up at…was there a ceiling? You weren't going to look right now, you were fairly focused, though admittedly distracted for a moment by the conflicted look in his half-closed eyes as he sat back and let you do what you were clearly determined to do.

For a few minutes, the only sounds were the ones you were making. The wet smack of saliva against skin, your little noises as you took a small portion of his cock into your mouth, keeping your cheeks hollow, the jaw lax, and your tongue active and wild.

Levi moved occasionally, shifting here and there for a more comfortable position, his thumb stroking lightly along the back of your neck while his other arm was slung out along the back of the couch. You would be worried you were giving a bad blow job and he was bored, if it wasn't for the way his hand gripped at the couch, or the slight flush of pleasure to his skin, or the way his eyes had fallen closed, lips parted and moving faintly in what might have been words around his deep breaths.

Or maybe it was something a lot more lewd that made your legs quake, thinking of that gorgeous sight of him between your legs with his face buried in you…

Foreplay wouldn't keep him satisfied for long, though. You'd been playing with his cock for a while now--it was time to try and make him arch and moan for once.

Without warning, your tongue lay flat, and you slid more of his cock into your mouth with a low hum. Levi let out a pleased sigh above you, hips rolling up into the motion and making you stop just so he wouldn't push past where you were ready to take him. Your saliva slipped down his dick and onto his balls, making his length a little easier to take in as you tried angling your head, tongue sweeping around the dick in your mouth in search of a spot that made him squirm. All the while, your hand started to lazily pump up and down the shaft, trying to keep him erect and hard despite your hesitant pace as you gingerly felt out the situation and how good you were at this.

Adjusting to having his cock fill your mouth and be on the verge of reaching your throat, you started off slow just to make sure you weren't going to hit the wrong spot so hard and fast you would choke, or worse. You bobbed your head up and down on Levi's cock, humming and moaning low in your throat the whole time at how surprisingly good it felt, even if it required some concentration and care.

A little pressure on the back of your neck when you took him in, and a slight tug on your hair when you pulled back, made you realize Levi was getting invested, too, his hand on the back of your neck starting to guide how you took him, hopefully helping you find the right spots soon.

Your panties were wet with excitement, but there was nothing you could do about that right now--you were focused, and you were getting somewhere.

"Don't be so timid--if you're so intent on doing this, then do it properly," he chastised you suddenly, his voice gruff, close to a growl, revealing that he wasn't nearly as relaxed as he seemed. Clearly, he was tired of the slow pace. At least he was saying something instead of straight up bucking into your mouth and throat without any warning.

He was right, too--even you knew you were going pretty slow right now. All right, then, if he wanted you to raise the stakes a bit more…

Shifting in place, your other hand ran up his thigh and over his waist, reaching towards his lower back, towards his tailbone. At the same time, you dipped your head low, taking in as much of his cock as you could before you gave a hard suck and allowed yourself to swallow reflexively.

Gag reflex? Why would you bother with that in your own dream? Anything was possible here, and you were going to take full advantage of that right now.

A soft gasp left Levi’s throat, and this time, you didn’t linger or hesitate, pulling back and starting a vigorous bob along his cock, a strange noise you hadn’t realized you were capable of escaping you with every dip of your head, every time his tip almost slipped out of your mouth before you relentlessly sucked him right back in, burying his cock in your mouth, your hand pumping along his length for added stimulation.

Levi’s breathing was heavy, borderline on panting as he watched you suck his cock, his hand now fisted in the hair at the back of your neck, hips rocking into your hand and those sinful lips of yours. He was almost there, but he wasn’t quite at the point you wanted him to, which meant you had to push him a little further to get what you wanted.

Your free hand had made it around to his tailbone by now, fingers splaying across the place you knew his tail had been last time, feeling along the smooth skin experimentally. Levi squirmed underneath your light, investigative touch, and you didn’t relent, trying to communicate without halting your enthusiastic tasting of his cock that you wanted him to stop hiding his tail--you wanted to feel it, and you were currently seeking out its base.

"Shit…" Levi gasped softly as your hand moved a little up his spine, as if concerned you might be a little too low to find it, and on the way back down...it was suddenly there.

You shifted closer in anticipation, Levi's grip on your head now holding you close enough to him that you could not pull away. Greedily, your hand wrapped around the base of his tail, thumb rubbing sensual circles around the base to try and provoke a reaction similar to last time.

Now he moaned, hand holding you tightly in place as his hips bucked forwards into your mouth, cock thrusting into your throat. At the same time, your hand wrapped around his tail, hand moving slowly out to get a good feel of it and see if Levi's sensitivity expanded beyond just the base. A quick glance to the side revealed it was fairly long, draped loosely across the couch and over the edge, coming to one slender tip that looked sharp as a whip.

No arrow tip, no "forked tongue," no scales--just smooth, hot skin for the slender appendage. It looked strangely natural, despite the black, blue, grey shades and coloration. And it was surprisingly muscly for a tail.

Well...with what you knew he could do with it, perhaps that part shouldn't seem so surprising.

And it was currently coiling, shuddering under the attention it was receiving, arching in the air as if in anticipation for the incoming touch. Another moan escaped Levi as his tail arched, and you realized it was also a fairly good indicator for the pleasure he was experiencing.

Bringing your hand back to the base and feeling for those sensitive spots along the thickest part of his tail, he bucked sharply up into your mouth with a low growl. The scenery changed again, and suddenly he wasn't lying on the couch letting you suck him off--he was standing with his back against the wall, you kneeling in front of him with your mouth still wrapped around his cock and your hand still clutching the base of a tail that now brushed sensually across the exposed skin of your legs an arm, the tip of his tail curling underneath your shirt.

This was no longer a blow job--you were about to get throat fucked.

Levi pushed inside you until your lips were brushing against his balls and your eyes watered, hand shifting to grab his waist as you felt a shred of relief in the fact you'd decided a gag reflex wasn't going to be a problem in this dream. Otherwise this could have ended badly, though you still found it hard to breathe, and it still took effort to try and get yourself to relax enough to take him in.

Levi let it sit there for a few seconds, his tail sliding up along your chest, pulling your shirt up with it as it came between your breasts and continued to reach, Levi's breathing officially turning into lustful pants as he pulled out and started his deep thrusts into your mouth. Moans and slight yelps escaped you in the process, and you tried to keep your head angled so he had a smooth entrance deep inside, eyes drawn up to his with the way you were knelt in front of him, only able to feel what his tail was doing, not to see and anticipate.

"That's a good girl, taking my cock like this," he growled, all earlier hesitation forgotten as the orgasmic high started to kick in and take control. "I knew you were a slut for my cock, but this...you take it so well, me fucking your throat like this. You look like you just want more."

As he spoke, his pace quickened, dick sliding smoothly all the way in and almost all the way out, your teeth grazing in a bare tickle along his cock and making it twitch, tongue licking and flicking and teasing whenever there was enough room in your mouth to do so. He shuddered at the sensation, egged on by the way you were pumping and stroking along the erogenous zone of his tail at the same time, and held you close, cock thrusting steadily and quickly into your mouth. The edge of his tail slipped up through the collar of your shirt, the very tip teasing along your lips and growing slick with saliva in the process, while a little further down it arched and wiggled in a way that it brushed against your nipples, making you whimper.

Now you weren't just excited--you were wet and aching, dying for the attention his tail was now teasing you with.

"You wanted to taste my cock?" Levi growled, his pace picking up and his cock throbbed against your tongue. "This what you wanted? To choke on my dick like my personal cockslut? C'mon, this is what you wanted, right? Fuck...shit…"

The dirty talk was getting worse, and he was starting to pound relentlessly into your throat, which told you he was close. Your hand had given up pumping along the shaft of his cock with how rapidly he was throat fucking you, now, and had instead started to massage and tease his balls, hoping the stimulation was about to send him over the edge between the throat fuck, the fondling of his balls, the teasing along the base of his tail, and…

It had stopped rubbing against your nipples, instead sliding down over your abdomen and into your panties, the hot skin easily slipping between your folds rubbing along your entrance and clit. Your legs shook, and you started to moan and whimper needily, which just made the feeling of his cock sliding into your mouth so much better for him.

"Hah...fuck...shit you're wet...and your throats so fucking tight…and…hnng…"

Levi's pants were ragged, his hips starting to move sporadically as his hand threaded through the hair at the top of your head repeatedly, holding you almost uncomfortably tight to his cock in his approaching climax. Even you could feel it coming, could anticipate the salty taste that would soon flood your mouth and throat…

The tip of his tail suddenly rolled and curled against your tip so it formed a small round edge instead of that wicked sharp edge, and without warning, it pushed between the folds of your pussy, pushing inside you much as it had into your ass the first time you'd seen it.

You gasped and then choked on Levi's dick at the sensation, and a strangled sound escaped him as he suddenly held you firmly in place, his body shuddering against you and cock twitching madly as his tail pushed further and further inside, stretching and filling you more than his cock could without cumming inside you. Each flex of the hot muscle inside you made you feel like it would rip you open as it went further than humanly possible, further than anything you would feel in real life, and your mind went blank, body limp for a few moments as you surrendered yourself to being fucked by Levi like this gladly.

Maybe you would cancel that appointment, because if this was the kind of pleasure you were going to experience in these dreams, you didn't want it to ever end.

Neither did he, based on the sound that came out of him. Wild and feral, Levi bucked into your throat without resistance, the tip of his cock pushing against the back of your throat even as the muscles of your throat flexed and tightened around him with your choking from the raw sensation and his cock buried in your throat. His face was flushed, sweat dripping down his forehead and cheeks, glistening against his skin as he tried to hold his orgasm in vain.

As you were coming back to your senses, egged on by the feel of your body seeming to stretch and fill from his tail coiling as far inside you as it could reach given the position the two of you were in, you caught the slightest spark of logical realization in his gaze through the haze of his orgasmic high.

"Fuck...your pussy. I...I only cum inside your...hng...shit!"

Before he could second guess, before he could even finish the thought or pull back, you released his balls so you could grip tightly at his ass with one hand to yank him forwards and shove him as deep down your throat as he could go, your other hand giving a firm tug on his tail that made him throw his head back, arch his back, and let out the wild curse, voice cracking and going hoarse as his control finally shattered, and his cum spilled hot and thick down your throat, tail twitching wildly inside you for a few moments in a way that almost sent you over the edge.

You greedily swallowed the hot cum spilling down your throat, fingers digging into his skin, pulling back when the flow started to lessen so some could stay in your mouth, the salty taste filling your mouth, a small strand escaping from the corner of your mouth and causing you to have to pull back and catch it with your tongue, lapping up the last few squirts from his cock before they could fall to the floor.

Just before his tail could stimulate you to an orgasm, though, it had gone still inside you. You were still filled, and the feeling alone kept you on edge, but his stillness denied you a release, and even walked you back from the edge a few steps.

You took a few moments to clean off his cock, making sure there wasn't a trace left as you listened to his breathing slowly come back to normal, his hand changing from that vice grip to strokes through your hair as you cleaned up his cock like he was petting a kitten.

"Not a single drop wasted, huh? Good girl...but no more fooling around." His tail flexed inside you, and you let out a wanton moan, the heat in your cheeks the only hint you had at how flushed and needy you looked to him right now, kneeling in front of him with traces of his cum still making your lips shine. "You pleasured me--now it's back to you."

His dick was hardening again to stand erect in front of your face, and while you were certain that was humanly impossible, you were rather sure he wasn't really human at this point--plus it was a dream, so if you wanted round two now, he would be ready for round two now.

His tail suddenly trusted deeper inside you, and you arched at the sudden feeling you might tear and burst, ears ringing and vision going fuzzy for a moment before you suddenly found yourself on your back in the bed, staring up at the black silk canopy as the last of his tail slipped out of you, leaving you feeling hollow and cold without that heat filling you. Levi was hovering over you again, his cock resting momentarily against your stomach as he removed your panties and waited for you to come to your senses.

As your eyes focused on him, he lined himself up, cheeks still flushed from the intense orgasm he'd just had, hair falling in front of his eyes to obscure your vision of the one thing that could give you a hint at his thought process. His cock started to slip inside you, and you whimpered and moaned at how good it felt to have his hot and hard cock filling the space his tail had left empty, as well as how easy it was for him with how stretched and open you felt right now.

Your hand ran along his chest, but you didn't push him away. You were just getting his attention.

"Let me ride you?" You asked softly. Levi looked up to meet your gaze, both of you well aware that this was a continuation of him being the focus, of you treating him--that it wasn't going to end with the blow job and throat fuck.

You didn't want Levi to have to work for it tonight. That was your job, tonight. He just needed to lay back, relax, and enjoy.

Your hand slid up his chest and neck, cupping his cheek and jaw in your hand as you reached up to kiss him deeply, surprised when he started to pull away before giving in, his arms wrapping around your body to turn you both over. Now, he lay on his back, his cock already inside you, you on top of him with legs straddling him, causing his dick to slide deeper inside as you settled on top of him. You moaned against his lips, tongue slipping inside his mouth before he could take advantage of the sound and beat you to the punch.

Once you were settled in place, his arms wrapped around your back, his tail sliding and curling lazily along your legs, you started to rock against him, whimpering lowly at how good it felt but also the sensitivity leftover from him edging you moments ago. His cock entered you with ease, buried to the hilt in a few rocks against his hips, like it was where he belonged. You didn't have to wait for him to adjust this time, hips lifting and then sinking onto his cock again with a wet smack, his fingers clenching in the fabric of the shirt you were still wearing, surprisingly.

It was Levi who pushed you back. Normally, he was always holding you so close, always in contact, always keeping things so fast and intense. But he pushed you away from the kiss into more of an upright position, bringing his knees up behind you for something to lean back on as you rode his cock, maybe intending to make it a little easier for you.

His hands slid under your shirt, and you leaned your head back with a low moan, feeling his hands slowly move along your skin, feeling you up even as your hips rocked together to keep his cock buried deep inside you. You were going to cum from this sensation alone, but you still asked for more.

"Put your tail in me again. It feels...so good…" you panted, one of your hands covering his as it found its way to your breast, the other staying planted in the bed for stability.

Yes, it did feel good for you, but you also knew just how damn sensitive that tail of his was, and how he’d fallen apart last time he'd double penetrated you with it. It would be explosive for him, which was what you were aiming for.

Levi didn't hesitate to follow this request, and you felt his tail, still wet and sticky with the buildup from you earlier, slipped past that little ring of muscle and started to push its way inside you. Your body reacted instinctively, curling backwards over his legs with a guttural moan, one of Levi’s hands lowering to your abdomen to hold you down and keep you on his cock, which he trusted up into you as if to remind you it was still there.

You came without any more warning than a weak cry at his thrust, Levi letting out a pleased sigh at the sensation of your cum coating his cock, moaning when the walls of your ass gripped at his tail tighter even as it pushed further in, and he continued to thrust into your pussy through your orgasm, able to feel the tip of his cock with the hand resting against your abdomen when he trusted inside you with the bend of your body and how deep his cock was.

Even as you orgasmed and weakly attempted to keep riding him, though at this point he might as well have taken over, Levi kept going, layering on more stimulation to drive you even further over the edge.

His hand gripping your breast was already playing with your nipple, and the other hand that was resting on your abdomen and trying to hold you down enough he could keep thrusting into you had reached out with his thumb to seek out and start teasing your clit. All the while, his tail coiled and trusted into your ass, finding the erogenous spot deep inside and refusing to release it afterwards, the tip of his tail rubbing against it relentlessly while the rest coiled, flexed, and filled your insides. And he never once pulled his cock out of you, either, continuing to thrust, with you hanging on for dear life, trying to ride him but your mind quickly losing the battle with all the stimulation. You just felt him, and you could hear him moaning, gasping, and panting beneath you, showcasing that you had been successful in eliciting pleasure from him and letting him be more of the focus tonight.

You just hadn't realized it was going to overwhelm you in the process, going limp as he stimulated and fucked you so thoroughly you lost sense of how many orgasms he pulled from you, the flashes of heat spilling into your gut and the resulting, guttural growls your only sign he was cumming as well.

He didn't stop until you blacked out for a solid...well, it had to be more than a few seconds, even though it felt like you'd slipped back into sleep for that long before you came to, mind hazily focusing on the feel of his arms supporting you instead of his legs, tail gone from upside you and leaving you feeling partially empty, even though his cock was still buried deep inside you, like he'd been worried to pull out while you were unconscious.

"Easy...easy…" he murmured, and hearing his voice again made you realize he hadn't said a word after the throat fuck, up until now. Carefully, he was laying you back down on the silken bed, his hand gently pushing sweaty strands of hair from your face so it wouldn't block your airways or get tangled around your neck, allowing you to breathe with ease.

Once you were lying on your back, he pulled his other arm out from under you so it would be free, letting it softly fall on your abdomen, where his thumb stroked gentle, random lines against your bare skin. After giving you a few moments to catch your breath, he pulled out, slowly and carefully, though he didn't stop when you whimpered at the feeling of his cock slipping out of your body now so sensitive it hurt.

"It's okay...just rest now. It won't be so bad in the morning," he murmured, covering you with the silken sheets except for that hand on your abdomen, still stroking and rubbing the skin absent-mindedly. It was strange that, even though he was supposed to be comforting you in your exhausted state as part of the aftercare, that was the only touch he gave you.

And that look in his eyes as he stared down at you, one you glimpsed seconds before something pushed you back under into a deep and much needed sleep.

So conflicted. Trapped between some kind of amazement and crushing guilt, like he was staring at the last of a dying breed.

Next Part---->

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danniburgh · 3 years

Text

Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 18

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +3.8k

Chapter warnings: mentions of captivity, kidnapping and death, hints of misogyny, even more feels omg

A/N: This chapter is set in season three, episode eight. // look guys at this point its all plot lmao, so yeah... also, please, please get ready, next chapter is gonna be almost the double of words and feels so... just a heads up

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

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gif: @bratdjarin

The time after that call went faster and faster.

You found yourself running through the embassy hallways along with Feistl to let the ambassador know Javier had Christina Jurado with him, then assuring him she would be safer staying in your house, making sure Feistl backed you up so Crosby wouldn’t be a pain in the ass and asked you if you could handle any strong situations that may concur while she was with you.

Then you went and made some arrangements to get another field agent to be your second as Feistl and Van Ness still had to fix their own shit. By the time you finished running around, Javier was back.

The office was almost empty, spare from Stoddard furiously typing into his computer, from the entrance you could see Javier standing in the middle of his office with his arms crossed on his chest and Christina Jurado sitting in front of him in the loveseat, both in complete silence.

You almost ran through the bullpen when you saw him, crossing the doorframe to his office and throwing yourself at him.

“Fuck, you’re okay,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and fisting his shirt while he let out a soft oof. Javier let himself embrace you back, letting his arms down and around your waist, you shoved your head in the crook of his neck, not caring that he smelled like sweat and smoke and gunpowder and death.

You didn’t want to ask him what he had to do to bring back Christina, and you were sure he wouldn’t tell you.

Javier let out a heavy sigh when he felt you finally inside his arms again, for a moment he forgot where he was and let himself breathe you in and out, using you yet again as an anchor to the real world.

You broke the embrace and cupped his face, making double sure he was unscratched, making double sure he was whole, making double sure he was good, at least physically.

He didn’t hold your gaze; he was looking behind you and you turned around.

“Christina,” you muttered, she looked up at you quizzically and for some reason that you didn’t want to dive in at the moment, you wanted to hug her.

There she was, a gorgeous, brave woman who had spent days in a place you were sure was worse than hell, with people that didn’t care about her, sitting there in one of the safest places in Colombia, just waiting for her fate to happen.

You couldn’t stop your brain for comparing and making parallels of your life to hers; she was the wife of a narco accountant; she had been living under the radar for a long time and she seemed to hate it, she merely loathed it and everything that had to do with what her husband was doing; and you, unmarried, oddly loved and chasing down the guys that practically paid her bills. You were about the same age and yet your lives had taken deeply different paths. And both of those paths had brought you both there. To a shitty office in an american government facility in a country neither of you had been born in, looking into each other’s eyes, relating to each other on more than one level.

For a moment you let yourself think what would’ve happened if you would’ve been the one that talked to her instead of Javier. It was a horrible thought; it was terrible to think and utterly useless, but maybe, just maybe, some things wouldn’t have happened.

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice was deep and quite hoarse, she leaned to rest her hands on her legs and you stepped towards her.

“I’m agent Martín, I’m gonna be with you until your flight tomorrow morning,” you explained to her, and you saw her let out a sigh, as if she was more relieved with you there “I’m gonna take you to my house so you can clean up and get some sleep, if that’s okay with you,” you saw her look at you with precaution and pondered the answer, then she just nodded.

“Is Javier gonna come?” she asked, bewaringly, you looked at her attentively and she glanced at him behind you for less than a second. You knew she had seen what he did to get her out of the place she was in and you understood, with the way she was sitting and staring at everything but him, that she wasn’t really fond of the methods.

“No, he’s not,” you assured her, feeling the deep stare of Javier in your back. Christina deflated slowly and breathed in, as if relieved, you stretched your hand to her. She looked at it and then looked at you for a few seconds, deciding if she would trust you or not, you tried to give her a reassuring smile and she took your hand, standing up, “have you eaten?”

“No,” she looked at the floor as you guided her to the door. You turned to look at Javier and he was frowning at the way you were managing the situation. You didn’t need to read his expression or his body language to know he just felt guilty because he didn’t have the same rapport in him. At least not anymore.

He wanted to ask you what the hell were you thinking to take Christina out of the building, but instead just looked at you, trusting you would at least read in his face how insecure about it he was feeling. You shook your head once and gave him a hard stare. He stiffened, and tightened his jaw, then mimicking you and nodding as well, knowing he had to let you do your part.

“Let’s get you some food as well,” you muttered to Christina, who turned to look at Javier one last time.

“Thank you,”

“Don’t thank me, let’s go, someone is waiting for us downstairs and you have a flight early in the morning,” you said, pulling her softly a bit closer to you, as you both walked out of the office.

The next morning came by. You and Christina were sitting in the backseat of Javier’s suv, him driving and another agent sitting next to him in the co-pilot’s seat. Christina was looking through the window, watching Bogotá waking up with her arm curled around yours.

The drive was quiet but tense, and while you felt Javier’s staring at you through the rearview mirror, you remembered the conversation you had with Christina when you arrived at your place the night before.

“Are you Javier’s girlfriend?” she had asked you, sitting on the couch, waiting for you to finish talking with the other agent that had to spend the night at your door and settle next to her. By the way she had asked you could notice it had no double meaning, she was genuinely curious.

“You… could say that,” you replied, biting your lip to stop yourself from smiling, “we don’t really have a name for… this,” for some reason you didn’t know you found Christina really trustworthy. You reasoned that it was maybe because she was trusting you to take care of her safety until she could be in her own country, so it was the logical thing to trust her back. She sighed at your reply.

“I don’t think you really need a tag, y’know,” she had said, and you nodded. She kept quiet for a moment and then grabbed your hand, her skin was cold and her hands were shaking, “I also fell in love with a dangerous man,” she said, making your breath hitch.

“Christina…”

“Don’t let him do to you what being married to Franklin did to me,” she muttered, almost as in secrecy. You looked at her and wished you could just take away all the shit she had lived in all the time she was captive.

The sentence lingered in your mind and settled itself in that nagging part of your brain that made you overthink things. You didn’t know exactly if she was referring to the inevitability of danger into the jobs her husband and your… Javier had, or maybe something else.

She tightened the grip on your hand, bringing you back to the moment, and for a second she lost herself, staring at everything and nothing at the same time. You wanted to ask her so many things and make sure she was okay. You didn’t find the strength in you to take her out of her trance, knowing maybe that was just her way to cope with… everything.

“I didn’t know if I was going to get out of there,”

“Christina,” you called her and she looked at you, still absentminded “I’m sorry, I have to ask, did they… do anything to you?” the question took her by surprise and her eyes watered. You could see she was already tired of crying and by that point she was past feeling sad. You watched her take her time to answer with expectation, and she shook her head, provoking your chest to fill with air, contented that at least they had spared her that one horror.

“No, they didn’t, but they wanted to,” she had muttered, making you shiver.

It amazed you how receptive your body was being to what she said. And yet again, you realized that you couldn’t avoid comparing yourself to her.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Christina,” you told her, putting your other hand on top of hers that was gripping you. She looked at you and narrowed her eyes slightly.

“Are you really?” her question caught you off guard more than you would’ve expected, she was asking again, genuinely, still having some barrier that wasn’t thrown for you, and you couldn’t blame her for that. You could see she still was scared of something or someone and you could also see that she was angry, not exactly directly at you, but angry.

“Of course I am, I was supposed to bring you to a safe place when you were… when they took you,” her trembling hands moved awkwardly and she stared at you “after Javi arrested your husband, he told me to go to your house and get you to safety, but when I got there, you called him and told him you saw cops and left,” you remembered the call Javier had given you after that, you still recalled the tone of his voice, desperate and frustrated, similar to the one Franklin Jurado had in one of his calls with Christina. You wondered if that could be taken as a parallel of your relationship, but decided not to go there, wasn’t really useful to keep comparing.

“That’s when he told me to go to the embassy,” Christina muttered and you nodded, her gaze got lost again and once again, you saw something inside her eyes that screamed and shouted even though she was sitting in front of you in almost utter silence. She was angry, so, so angry. And you couldn’t blame her for that either.

“I was actually waiting for you,” you told her, she sighed and you bit your lip again, “and when you didn’t arrive I just… I’m just really glad you’re safe, you didn’t deserve any of that,”

Christina shook her head a few times and took a deep breath.

“No, I didn’t” her reply confirmed what you were just seeing. You wanted to tell her so many things, you wanted to tell her that she wasn’t alone, that she was going to get through all the shit, that she was going to see her husband and that even though he was in jail, he was protected and she would be able to rebuild her life, no longer in the shadows, you wanted to tell her that everything was going to be okay… But you didn’t, because you didn’t know that. “what’s gonna happen to me now?” she asked, and for the first time since you’d been talking, you heard a tremble in her voice, hesitation, insecurity, and it didn’t suit her.

“He’s gonna fly you home, you’re gonna see your husband” you had said, trying to make things at least a little more bearable, but she just let out a huff and turned to you.

“Are you coming?” Christina asked, her eyes set in you. You weren’t sure if you had that kind of power.

“Do you want me to?”

“Please”

After that you showed her the bathroom, gave her some of your clothes and almost forced her to sleep in your bed. Then, when you were sure she was at least more comfortable than she was when she arrived, you had called Javier to tell him she wanted you in the plane with her.

You arrived at the airport and Christina was escorted by you, Javier, the other agent that had spent the night at your place’s door, and two police officers. You got settled in a private waiting room and Javier made sure the only ones inside it were Christina, you and him.

“I’m really sorry for taking away your clothes,” Christina said, still grabbing your arm, you were watching Javier looking through the window of the room and turned to her, shaking your head.

“Don’t be, they look better on you,” you reassured her, feeling quite better with yourself for having her smiling at you, a female voice talks through the speakers and Javier turns to you, he captures back your attention and you give him a small smile.

“In less than an hour, we’re on that plane,” he says to Christina and walks to sit behind the two of you “your husband knows, he’ll be waiting for ya,”

Christina said nothing, she just squeezed your hand and you for once tried to be silent, not wanting to meddle in whatever they had, as the mood inside the room had changed and apparently you were the only one that could feel and almost see the palpable tension they had with each other.

“It’s all behind you now, Christina,” Javier muttered, you turned to see him with narrowed eyes and a quirk in your face that asked him if he really just said that.

“And you think I should thank you for that?” Christina rhetored bitterly at him, not even bothering to look at him, you turned to see her and realized who her anger was directed to. And you… understood.

“No, no I don’t” Javier deepened his voice at her.

“No, you think you’re a hero because you, what, executed a bunch of farmers to get me out so that my husband would testify for you?” Christina’s hand gripped yours harder and you tried to keep your calm. You could feel Javier’s gaze glued to your face and you didn’t turn to see him. Not ready to see in his face what you thought you had heard in his voice.

“I did what I had to do and I’m sorry for what happened to you,” your head snapped almost involuntarily at him, your eyes wide and your mouth parted in surprise. He tried to remain serious but he knew you almost completely and you knew him as well. You saw in his face that he really didn’t mean it, you saw in his face that he was only saying it because his ego was hurt. And you noticed in the way he was avoiding your eyes that he knew you already knew. Un fucking believable.

“No,” Christina looked at him and made a quirk that told you she really didn’t believe him, and you couldn’t help but notice the difference at the gesture her face made the night before, when you told her the same thing. You bit your lip to avoid popping out and ask her why she did believe you but didn’t believe him, but you were pretty sure you already knew why. “no you’re not, and you know it,” your gaze stayed in Javier’s face, in his thumb brushing his lower lip, in how his eyes looked at everything but you or her or himself, on how he had stretched his legs to the sides and left his hand hanging, and you saw it, one of his many faces but not the one you were expecting to see, not the one you wanted to see. The agent face. The police enforcement mask, one that showed, maybe even unconsciously, that he only cared about the operative, about the mission, about the main goal. Not about the woman that had lived through hell and he had pulled her out of there himself “you’re a piece of shit.”

Christina turned to the front, still holding your hand and your eyes were trying to get Javier to look at you.

Javier knew himself, he couldn’t bear to look at you because he knew you already had a pretty clear idea of what was going through his head and he was embarrassed. Because he knew you cared, he knew you cared deeply and he felt guilty that he didn’t care as much as you did, he felt embarrassed at the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted to, he really did, but he was just so damn tired.

Exhausted didn’t convey exactly how he felt, he didn't even know if there was a word that could fully express how he was feeling sitting there in the middle of an almost empty waiting room in an airport waiting to take a woman he had promised himself to take care of to convince her husband to risk his life and betray his employers.

Javier thought Christina was right, he was a piece of shit. A piece of shit that didn't deserve to look at your beautiful, ever understanding eyes.

Javier didn’t look at you, and you didn’t like the way he was acting. And for a brief moment you saw a flash of something running through his face. It was anger but wasn’t, it was sadness but not quite, it looked like pride. Was his… ego, hurt?

The time to board the flight came and you felt Christina relax besides you. The whole convoy of police enforcement was escorting Christina to the gate when Javier’s phone rang.

“Yeah,” Javier answered the call and you turned to look at him next to you, “yeah, we’re about to get on the plane, we’ll be in Miam–” he was suddenly cut off, he stopped walking and you did too, Christina saw you and turned to see what was going on “when?” he asked into the phone and a shiver went down your spine, the woman beside you felt your body stiffen as Javier finally looked into your eyes and with one single glance told you everything, “let me call you back.”

“What happened?” Christina asked, trembling next to you, as if she already knew the answer.

“He’s dead” you murmured, still looking into Javier’s eyes. You felt a heavy pull next to you and suddenly a pair of officers were next to you. Christina was collapsing on the floor.

Javier’s eyes fell to Christina as yours filled with unwanted tears. Why were you crying? you quickly tried to analyze what you were feeling and learned that it wasn’t really because of the case, the case and the trial and the testimony was all shit anyway, you knew it, but he didn’t.

It was because your mind was playing with the parallels. You related to Christina even if she didn’t relate to you, and now she lost her husband, while Javier was standing in front of you feeling guilty for all the pain he thought he had caused. You could see the irony, then the question was if you were about to lose Javier as well.

“She needs to go to Miami anyway,” Javier said to you a few moments later. You nodded. His eyes were in yours and he stole a handgrip from you “let’s go,” he said, aiming to walk away from the gate, you frowned at him, giving him a look that asked him if he was out of his mind. He felt a tug in his chest, knowing already you would fight his plea.

“Don’t leave,” Christina was being helped to stand and she grabbed your other hand, making Javier drop the one he had taken, you could see the hesitancy in his face.

“She’s gonna be escorted all the way back to Miami,” Javier’s tone was dubious, the way you were looking at him made him doubt himself for the briefest of moments.

“I’m gonna go with her and make sure she gets to safety” you said. Javier sighed at your willful tone of voice.

“Florencia,” he called and you tightened your jaw, you knew he knew better than to try and contradict you right there and then.

“I’m going,” your voice softened slightly and you turned to Christina “can you go ahead and board? I’ll be right behind you,” you reassured her, she nodded slowly and one of your partners helped her get to the gate, you turned back to look at Javier, noticing how much he was struggling to come up with something to say. “whatever that was, back in the waiting room, I need space from that,” you blinked your unshed tears away and he just nodded back at you, knowing exactly what you were talking about and understanding, begrudgingly, why you wanted to be away from him for a while “I’ll be back tonight and maybe we can talk,”

“I don't thin–”

“Javier,” you cut him off, shaking your head softly to stop him “I’ll see you when I get back.”

Your hand reached to his wrist and you gripped it as strongly as you could for a few seconds, his eyes seemed a bit lost and even though you knew he was having a thousand and one reasons to not let you go, to keep you in Bogotá with him, to need you with him, you had one strong reason to get away from him at least for a day.

One that made you feel hypocritical and traitorous; if he reacted with little empathy and pride to what Christina had told him, how the fuck would he react when you told him the truth?

So you let go of him, gave him a last stare and turned around to walk to the gate, board the plane and take Christina home. For the first time, while flying through the Gulf of Mexico, you had plenty of time to think about all the mess that you had gotten into. And your mind came to one conclusion: there was no way on earth that Javier would forgive you for what you were doing to him.

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