#Also this scene makes me wish I could get to see the inside of the school. Beyond the computer room. I've got an idea of what it looks like

[xomakara]

Roses

SUMMARY | Apparently, getting dumped on Valentine's Day isn't necessarily a bad thing. Especially when it leads to you meeting a handsome stranger and spending the night with him.

PAIRINGS |  Jaehyun x Reader 

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked 

GENRE |  smut, slight angst, comfort, Valentine's Day, birthday 

CONTENT/WARNINGS | heartbreaks, profanity, drinking, flirting, teasing, birthday sex, unprotective sex, shower sex, comfort sex, creampies, fingering, pet names (sweetheart, etc), open ending

LENGTH |  5,483 words 

TAGLIST |  @lovetaroandtaemin

NETWORKS |  @k-vanity @ksmutsociety 

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  As usual, thank you Ally ( @lovetaroandtaemin ) for beta-reading this and Beezy ( @hobeemin ) for the beautiful banner. The both of you never fail to amaze me and I appreciate all the work and help!

Happy Valentine's to all the couples and singles out there. And happy birthday to our Valentine boy, Jaehyun 💚💚

NCT Main Masterlist

You thought you were having such a shitty Valentine's Day when the man you had been seeing for years broke up with you, leaving you standing in the rain like a fool. The bouquet of roses that he gifted you before blurting out, "It's over," remained clenched in your numb, icy hands as you watched him get into a taxi with another woman, no doubt leaving you for her.

What went wrong? What did you do? All these thoughts and questions swarmed inside your mind, and there were no answers anywhere to be found. You looked at the roses in your hand before sighing and carelessly throwing them to the ground, the petals scattering around your feet and getting wet from the rain. A miserable whimper left your lips, tears welling up in your eyes before being indistinguishable from the rain on your face.

A sob burst free from your chest, the reality of the situation hitting you with full force. You had poured your heart and everything you had into this relationship, just for him to take those pieces of you and break them, making it so that no one would ever put them together again. At the worst of times, you wished to die, to just disappear. All this pain felt unbearable.

"You too?" a low, masculine voice questioned, coming from a distance.

You looked around, not caring in the least that you must have looked pathetic. Tears stained your face, mixing with rain, and mascara ran down your cheeks in streaks. The cold, humid air froze your lungs, making each breath hurt. It felt like you had a stab wound in your chest.

At the end of the sidewalk, he stood. This man, tall and handsome, looked just as miserable and pitiful as you did. The bouquet of roses that he held looked almost crushed and damaged in his grip. Like you, his clothing stuck to his body, darkened with rain.

Slowly, you turned your entire body to look at him. The sleeve of your coat, dampened by the rain, wiped away any signs of your sadness. He neared, stopping before you, close enough to look down at you. Although his expression remained neutral, you could see the emotions swirling in his iridescent eyes.

"Miserable Valentine's Day, huh?" you breathed, barely audible above the sound of rain, but somehow, he heard you.

"It sucks when Valentine's Day is also your birthday," the stranger lamented, handing his damaged bouquet over to you.

“Oof,” not having the strength to be polite, you took the ruined flowers. "Who broke up with you?"

"That woman that was in the taxi," he replied with a sigh, pointing at the cab that left the scene long ago. "I'm guessing the man that was with her broke up with you?"

Silently, you nodded. For a minute, the two of you stood there, letting the rain cool off your hot skin, neither of you having anything else to say. When the man let out a dry laugh, you gazed up at him in mild surprise. His expression finally changed. There was a smile now, although forced.

"We both look awful," he stated before gazing up at the dark, dreary sky.

"It's funny... we look like quite the pair, don't we? Getting dumped by our significant others on Valentine's Day." The flowers in his hands dropped to the ground, joining your discarded ones. Your tear-soaked eyes blinked, attempting to stave off more tears, while you chuckled bitterly at the humor of your current predicament, "I don't think I ever want to see roses again."

"Same," the handsome stranger replied in understanding. His mouth opened as if he had a question he wanted to ask, but thought against it. He paused momentarily, not wanting to linger on the subject. Inhaling deeply, he shook the droplets of rain off his face before clearing his throat, "Would you like a drink?"

Without hesitation, you answered. "Fuck yes. Anything to forget this stupid day."

The two of you decided to make the venture into a bar not too far from the place you had just gotten dumped at. Walking into the building felt like a huge relief. Immediately, warmth hit you as the wet clothes clinging to your body continued to drip. The smell of alcohol and food assaulted your nose. The bar was nearly empty, given that most couples would rather be somewhere more romantic than here. There were only a handful of individuals scattered in booths and at the tables, mostly singletons enjoying their single lives. The television played the latest sports highlights and weather news while two young people conversed and cleaned the counters.

You slid into the stool at the bar, shaking your damp hair that began to dry at the ends, while he sat in the seat next to you.

A woman no older than  you walked towards the bar. "What can I get for you guys?" She looked between the two of you. "Something warm? You both look cold and soaked. We have hot cocoa and whiskey. I don't recommend both at the same time, though."

"Well... today has really, really sucked for both of us," you gestured to the man sitting beside you. "We both got dumped and apparently, it's his birthday too."

"Whiskey it is," the bartender nodded in understanding.

"Can we get something hot to eat as well?" the man beside you asked, his voice laced with hunger and coldness. "Anything will do," he added.

The woman behind the bar gave him a warm smile. "Of course. I'll be right back."

You looked at the man, thrusting your hand towards him. "I'm Y/N, by the way."

"Jaehyun," he introduced himself while grasping your hand, giving it a firm handshake. "If you don't mind me asking, why did your guy break up with you?"

"I don't know. I thought everything was normal until a few hours ago when we met up for dinner and he handed me the roses," you began to recall the moments prior, shuddering at the thought. "Then, he dropped the bomb that he doesn't feel the same way anymore and started listing things I was lacking, which honestly hurt because everything I've done was for him."

"Same shit," Jaehyun shrugged in defeat as the bartender placed a pair of short glasses in front of each of you, filled to the brim with whiskey. He picked up his glass and brought it to his lips, downing half the drink.

You took yours, bringing it to your own mouth and taking a generous sip. "What about you? Same reason?"

"I mean, it didn't start like that, but I guess in the end... it's pretty similar," he shrugged again, his damp shoulders rustling against the sleeves of his coat. "She used to complain how my work kept me busy and how she barely ever sees me, so... maybe, that was just it. She was cheating on me. Found someone else." He tossed his head back and downed the rest of his beverage.

"Sucks how they ended up together, especially right after they dumped both of us," you huffed, feeling angry and cheated. You and Jaehyun just shared one look of agreement and frustration. It wasn't hard to empathize with him. After all, you both shared similar circumstances and experiences. "Sorry."

He let out a light chuckle. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I'm sorry you had a bad Valentine's Day. And a bad birthday. That just... sucks," you purse your lips and lightly knock back the remaining liquor, relishing in the sting.

Jaehyun observed the frown in your features. Somehow, he managed to lift the corners of your lips upwards. "Well, thanks to you, at least it's not too shitty anymore. So, happy birthday to me," he announced, raising his empty glass into the air with a small whoop. "And Valentine's I guess."

That managed to pull a small chuckle out of you.

"Pfft," he grinned at the sound. "Look, it's gonna take more than just two drinks to cheer either of us up, but... how 'bout we forget about them and be each other's Valentines? It's still a holiday, and technically, it’s not that late. Let's drink the night away and forget what happened tonight?"

A brow arched with amusement, skeptical but flattered nonetheless. "You don't even know me. I could be a serial killer."

"Pretty sure a serial killer wouldn't go out of her way to console the person next to her if they happened to be as heartbroken as she was," Jaehyun reminded. "And besides, a serial killer can't be as pretty as you."

"Way to flatter a girl," you giggled, blush tinting your cheeks a rosy hue. "I should warn you though, if I drink too much, I might vomit on your shoes."

"Fair warning," he gave you an inviting, warm smile. "A bit weird, but since today can't get worse, how 'bout it? Think of it as celebrating my birthday and being someone's Valentine at the same time."

The heat from the liquor was enough to melt some of your worries away. While the entire scenario you were thrown into seemed a bit unorthodox, considering it would be with a stranger, his eyes held a glint of sincerity, in which you saw a spark of a chance to give both you and him a reason to at least laugh by the end of the night.

"I suppose it's better than going home alone and crying into my pillows right? This might be a good distraction for the both of us," you agreed to the idea, meeting his grin with one of your own. The bartender set a plate of nachos down on the counter, sliding it to the two of you. You looked down at the plate and couldn't help but laugh softly, remembering how you both asked for something to fill the stomach. Jaehyun also snickered upon realizing the humorous predicament.

While the nachos didn't satisfy your need for a more proper meal, it served to stave off the hunger as you drank. Eventually, the pair of you grew relaxed, the stress from your breakups disappearing momentarily. The night got later, and the drink you consumed blurred your mind, letting you feel the warmth spreading throughout your body.

You weren't sure how many drinks the pair of you shared; the bartender didn't seem to care that the two of you consumed glass after glass without paying for a thing. All she did was just serve you, clean the table, and occasionally join in on the conversation. It might have been the alcohol, but there was no shortage of laughs between the three of you. You leaned into Jaehyun's side and clutched his arm while shaking with laughter at the terrible jokes. He placed a hand on the small of your back.

By the time 10PM rolled by, it felt natural to call it a night.

The two of you finally returned to a sober state of mind. As you fished through your wallet, prepared to pay the tab and thank the bartender for keeping both of you entertained for the evening, Jaehyun stopped you, insisting on paying for the both of you. You left the bar, the rain having settled down considerably compared to a few hours ago. There was only a light mist in the air, and your breath came out in visible puffs of white.

As the alcohol wore off, you could feel the slight chill from the lingering temperature, your thin jacket not exactly doing wonders to protect you. You noticed Jaehyun also shuddered, rubbing his arms and trying to conserve his warmth.

He stopped walking, tugging your arm gently, which made you come to a halt. A warm arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer. Confused, you blinked up at him with curiosity, waiting for him to explain what was happening. You could barely process much, aside from the smell of alcohol on him and his slightly tousled, damp hair, given the intoxicated state you were in.

"Do you want to come back to my place? Maybe keep celebrating my birthday?" His voice was thick, and his stare was heavy.

While a voice in the back of your head urged you to return home, you hesitated. Despite not knowing him very well, your attraction and interest were present. Perhaps you were a fool for accepting the invitation, but  the alcohol coursing through your body told you to just let go of your inhibitions and worries.

And so, you answered his question without a second thought. "Sure."

Once the answer was uttered, the two of you trekked the short distance, arms around each other to keep from collapsing, until you entered a tall complex. Within no time, you stumbled through the threshold of his apartment.

Warm hands found their way around your waist as he guided you. "C'mon, let's get you warmed up," he urged quietly in your ear.

He led you towards the bathroom, dimly illuminated by the warm, orange hue from the standing lamp. Despite the limited lighting, the details of the apartment were still obvious and easy to see. It was large, simple, and minimalistic. As you glanced to the side, the view of his kitchen looked even better. Everything looked clean and organized.

Noticing your inspection, Jaehyun couldn't help the light-hearted comment. "Pretty spacious and expensive for someone whose life has just been obliterated, huh?" He pointed out, making you snort.

"I'll ignore that," you chided playfully, rolling your eyes before shrugging out of his grip and removing your outer layers of clothing. "Besides, despite everything else that’s gone to hell tonight, it's actually a pretty nice apartment."

With a laugh, Jaehyun immediately followed suit, yanking his sweater off and throwing it aside. His large hands roamed along his muscular torso and arms, dusting any residue from his drenched shirt.

"As much as I enjoy you standing around and admiring the view," his teasing voice broke through your ogling, making you flush, realizing that he was clearly referring to the apartment and not himself. "You'll warm up a lot faster in the shower."

"I appreciate that, however," you looked at him innocently, twirling your wet, loose hair with your fingers. "Are you joining me? Just to, y'know, conserve water and energy or whatever."

Without an ounce of shame, Jaehyun threw his shirt onto the pile with a sly smirk. "My energy and resources are very important, and you're absolutely right."

"Of course," you murmured, your gaze trained onto him. He was more athletic than you had assumed from your observations, his abdominal muscles tensed and his pectoral muscles just as defined. Your hands almost ached to touch the broad, strong shoulders and firm biceps. "Oh, I don't have anything else to change into."

Jaehyun hummed. "I could lend you something, unless you really don't mind me ogling you for the rest of the night."

"Well..." a mischievous smile tugged at your lips as you gestured at him and the amount of exposed skin. "Then you don't mind, huh?"

"Good point, I suppose," he mused, then pointing to the shower and letting out a huff. "Go ahead. I'll wait for you out here."

"Why? Scared?" you wiggled your eyebrows.

Your teasing smirk made him huff indignantly. "Absolutely not."

You laughed as you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bathroom, locking the door and slipping out of your remaining clothes. Jaehyun joined you in unclothing his bottom half, eyes lidded as he watched you step into the spacious, tiled shower, with a large sliding glass door. You turned on the faucet and twisted it, causing warm water to spray down in large droplets.

"God, a warm shower is just what I need," you exhaled with appreciation before catching him still standing outside. "Well, are you getting in?"

He dropped the rest of his clothes before slipping in beside you. You couldn't help but appreciate him—he was quite tall and muscular, very toned in all the right places. Unable to resist, your hands rested on his warm chest, fingers ghosting across the scars scattered across his abdomen. His own hands stroked up your sides and towards your arms, raising goosebumps. The hot steam and the proximity were nearly intoxicating and definitely clouded your minds.

Your body pressed against his, sighing as the heat from the water enveloped you, his lips capturing yours hungrily. Eager to satisfy your own desires, you traced your nails along the length of his arms before sneaking your fingers through his short, wet locks of hair, earning a pleasurable sigh out of him. Jaehyun responded by tightening his grip and moving you away from the stream. He leaned his weight onto you, gently guiding your back against the cool, tile wall.

"Tell me what you want me to do, Y/N," he whispered, mouth pressed against the side of your neck, teeth nibbling the delicate skin. His hot breath against your sensitive skin sent shivers down your spine.

"Surprise me, birthday boy," your eyes flashed, daring him to continue the enticing action.

And that was all it took.

The moment the words left your lips, Jaehyun wasted no time and picked you up with ease, pinning you against the wall. Without him having to ask, you wrapped your legs around his waist.

"Consider yourself surprised," the smirk that crossed his features would have made you roll your eyes if it didn't elicit such a pleasurable response out of you.

Jaehyun used one free hand and intertwined it with yours, pinning it above your head, before his lips, that were wet from the shower, captured your own, giving you a feverish kiss, full of lust. You squealed when you felt the tip of his hardness nudge at your slick entrance before sliding inside. His length filled your warm, throbbing heat completely and caused an involuntary cry out of you when you felt the first thrust, nearly slamming your head against the tile, while he shuddered in satisfaction at the tight feeling engulfing his cock.

Jaehyun rocked his hips, building a slow pace, and with each movement, the friction of his warm skin against yours ignited a delicious, burning sensation. Each moan from him seemed to further add fuel to the fire, sending shivers through you. With each thrust, his pace grew in intensity. Your other hand found its way across his back, nails digging into his shoulder and surely leaving a mark. The water streamed down, washing the fluids down the drain.

Barely managing a coherent word out of your mouth between the soft pants and moans that left your lips, you blurted, "Don't you dare stop. God, this feels good."

Jaehyun squeezed your hand that interlaced his fingers. His pupils were dark with passion. The feeling was mutual for the both of you, bodies screaming, wanting each other and begging for satisfaction. With his free arm, he supported your bottom and held you against him, quickening the movements, pressing further and deeper inside, forcing the most explicit sounds and expressions to escape from your throat. He too didn't make it easier on you. The harder he pounded into you, the louder his moans became and the less coherent he was with his words.

As the ecstasy overwhelmed you both, every emotion seemed intensified. His member, pounding repeatedly into the most sensitive parts of you, and his heavy breaths as he gave you his all, sent waves of euphoria. With each thrust and plunge, every inch of you was set aflame, causing sparks of pleasure to ignite the more sensitive points in your body.

While your limbs were numb and shaking uncontrollably in bliss, you held on tighter. Despite having your thoughts hazy and scrambled, the thought of wanting more of him, more of this, never ceased.

"Jaehyun...bed please?" your voice croaked with want, speaking between your shaky gasps for air. "As much as I like shower sex...the tile is...ahh—hard against my back."

He said nothing in response but groaned his approval.

The pair of you fumbled, managing to hastily dry your damp skin, before Jaehyun scooped you up and walked the short distance towards the large, empty bedroom. With not so gentle movements, he dumped you on the bed. Before you could even register a reaction, he was upon you, his warm body covering yours. You hissed, biting his bottom lip, with the new skin to skin contact and the smooth sheets beneath you.

"Tell me what you wanna do, sweetheart. We got time," his husky whisper made you whine.

"Surprise me again," you smirked. "Come on, what's stopping you?"

Without having to provoke him further, your demand was fulfilled. Jaehyun sat back against the wall, propped up with pillows, then hauled you up to straddle him. He barely gave you time to adjust to a comfortable position before sliding into you slowly, relishing in the gratifying sensations that rushed through his body. You gripped at his shoulders while his lips explored every bit of the skin exposed to him, from the side of your neck, behind your ear, all the way down to the curve of your breast. As he planted an affectionate kiss there, your heart fluttered, before you let out a long and low moan in approval.

"This good? Tell me," his voice was rich and sounded like velvet, tickling your ears as he leaned closer. His hands massaged your ass, spreading apart the soft, warm skin. Your movements began slow and deliberate. As the new angle of penetration caused a more delicious sensation for both, it quickly became difficult to maintain the pace you had originally started at. 

Grinding your hips down, Jaehyun met you halfway and drove his length deeper into your wet heat. Every movement was agonizingly slow, forcing you to focus on the exact movement of him. His tongue languidly flicked at your hardened nipples. Shivers of satisfaction rushed through the sensitive skin and you let out a keening sound, craving his attention. It earned an almost sadistic chuckle from him, and the lazy tempo remained.

A pleading look was on your face as you whined, trying to roll your hips faster and harder. "Harder. Please," you pleaded.

Instead, he placed his strong hands on your waist, forcing you to move slower, all while giving your other nipple the same, languid affection, your impatience being swallowed with a cry. His actions were torturous as the warmth in your stomach was still coiling, barely on the verge of pleasure, yet not near enough to push you to your climax.

"We don't have anywhere else to be right, Y/N?" Jaehyun whispered, pressing another kiss to the side of your breast.

"No, we're alone...mmm. Fuck...just us," you were desperate for friction, almost painfully needing the build-up to hit, grinding your hips and clawing at his skin, urging him to comply. "Please, Jaehyun, we can go slower tomorrow."

"So you're saying that there's a tomorrow?" his gaze met yours and held your stare, all while he continued his unhurried tempo and the gentle ministrations.

"Yes," you promised without hesitation.

He complied, this time picking up the pace like  you demanded of him, but still taking his sweet time enjoying every inch of you. Your breathing hitched as he  met the frenzied need, his groans as needy and excited as your own. His calloused hands found their way towards your back, clutching onto your ass, feeling the supple skin beneath his hands as he urged your body to slide up and down, using your momentum to guide you into a rhythm, occasionally slamming against your heat with such ferocity, you had no doubt it would leave bruises come morning.

"Fuck, you feel so good," his moan was husky and low, while he sucked at your sensitive nipple, his tongue swiping over the nub occasionally. You could barely hold out anymore, holding his face to your breast, hips jutting forth, desperate to take every inch of him, needing more.

"M-More...please," you begged. The next few thrusts were purposeful and rough. Each time his length pierced you, you keened and threw your head back. "Jaehyun."

Your entire body was ablaze, all the heat coming straight from the friction of your wet bodies pressed against each other and the pleasure from your intimate area, contracting around his pulsing member.

"So pretty, saying my name," Jaehyun's breaths were low and throaty, sending delightful vibrations straight through your body. He shifted your weight, now laying on the bed as his long, slender fingers roamed your thighs and his mouth planted loving kisses up the length of your neck, finally reaching the delicate skin of the shell of your ear. His hands slipped beneath the bend of your knees, holding them apart with ease. "Say it again, sweetheart. Let everyone know who's making you feel like this."

"Jaehyun," you called again, hearing him huff, increasing the momentum of each thrust, no longer matching the lazy tempo as he indulged and appreciated your wet, clenching pussy. He reveled in the feeling of your heat tight around him, every contraction, squeezing him and urging him closer to climax.

"Say it again, sweetheart."

"Jaehyun... oh fuck. Don't stop!"

"So wet... so pretty..." He plunged into the warm, wet heat, watching your expression carefully with fascination as the lewd sounds escaped your lips. "Look at you, so pretty all spread out and begging. So needy for me."

Every moan, whimper, and cry from you encouraged him. His cock would pump in, once, twice, until the friction was exactly as you needed to make you cry out, shuddering with pure pleasure as a long and lewd, "Fuucckk," escaped your throat.

Before long, the entire room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, mixed in with lewd and erotic sounds from the pair of you as the two of you fell further into a pleasurable daze. Jaehyun didn't seem to stop, holding on tightly onto you and sucking on the sensitive areas, littering your skin with bright red splotches and darkening hickies. Your senses were overwhelmed, the only coherent thing in your head was the thought of wanting release.

"I'm close," your voice sounded hoarse. “Oh, shit.”

"Can I cum inside you?" His face was serious and a light flush was evident. “Please?”

All you could do was respond with an incoherent hum and a nod. He took that as consent, bringing one hand from your back and in between your thighs. Immediately, he was cupping the flesh between your legs, and with his thumb, he circled your sensitive bundle of nerves, bringing about the sparks of intense bliss. It brought you over the edge, a scream tearing past your throat as waves of pleasure crashed through you and you rode your high. With a low growl and one final, hard thrust, his own warmth coated you and filled you to the hilt, the lewd, wet sound becoming the backdrop to both your heated cries.

The aftershocks of pleasure reverberated through you, sending quivers and uncontrollable shakes in your body. You clung tightly to Jaehyun as you let it slowly subside. For a moment, the room was quiet, and the only sounds were the soft pants from the both of you. You laid there comfortably in his embrace and felt safe and secure.

After a moment passed, Jaehyun spoke up, eyes locked onto yours, with a sort of satisfied, smugness in the smile that lit up his features. "Well, that wasn't too shitty. I'd say I celebrated my birthday and was someone's Valentine as well."

You snickered lightly before returning the grin, adjusting yourself to cup his face tenderly, "You're absolutely right."

Light trickled through the blinds, alerting Jaehyun to the rising dawn, and as such, he let out a muffled sigh. Sinking further into the cotton and warmth beside him, his hands roamed your body until they reached your hips. Without warning, he gripped the flesh tightly, and pressed a soft kiss at the back of your neck.

You groaned softly, shifting your body a bit.

"Wake up," he cooed, the tone was innocent, yet laced with mischief. He pressed himself into you and breathed slowly, carefully, and deliberately on the side of your throat, giving you shivers. "Sleep's over, sweetheart."

"I don't want to wake up," you sighed. Your hair was slightly disheveled, and your voice had a hint of sleep in it, all while Jaehyun refused to relent from the merciless teasing. Instead, he chuckled, dragging his hand further south to tease you by stroking the sensitive flesh of your outer thighs. Another whine escaped your throat and he grinned triumphantly, relishing how pliant you were for him. You were no match for him and the brute, merciless force, as he repeated the tantalizing actions all over again, relishing in how the previous evening played itself over in his head. "Really? After the night we had? How do you still have energy?"

"Waking up to a beautiful woman naked in my bed seems like good motivation to start the day," Jaehyun mumbled, his face buried into the crook of your shoulder, letting his body press even closer into the frame of your own, savoring how soft your form was against him. The slight pressure and friction gave him another reminder of the fact he was very much naked, very much excited, and very much ready, which he demonstrated to you.

You rolled your eyes, a huff a laughter escaping you, "Fuck you."

"Been there, done that, sweetheart. It's pretty awesome, you know," he retorted.

You let out another low, tired laugh, burying yourself deep into his embrace before adding, "You are full of it, Jaehyun."

His deep chuckles resonated throughout the room as he stared at you fondly. "I like waking up next to you."

It caught you by surprise, but you decided to reciprocate. After all, why not? "I like waking up next to you." Your voice was muffled, though still discernible, as you hid yourself in the pillow. "So I was thinking..."

"Hm?" he grunted.

"Can we keep seeing each other?" you asked. "You know, go on dates, actually get to know each other and stuff. Romantic and fun shit that, usually, we miss out on in relationships. Hell, I'm not sure what this even is, and I probably look like an idiot, but I really enjoyed last night and waking up next to you...so...do you wanna give it a shot?"

Jaehyun took his time in answering. He removed the hands from the most delicate part of your skin. Without waiting a beat longer, Jaehyun rolled over and pushed you to lie on your back, allowing his body to partially cover your form. The movement was graceful and with such ease that your eyes fluttered open to find him pinning your wrists on either side.

"It doesn't have to be serious or anything, just keep it casual if you want," you tried to speak over the lump in your throat and the knot in your stomach.

However, instead of agreeing or even disagreeing with you, Jaehyun leaned in and captured your lips, silencing any potential words that might have left them. A feverish and needy passion was present in the languid kisses. You responded in kind, eagerly parting your lips and allowing him to dominate you.

There was no fight, no sense of struggling—you gladly gave in and allowed yourself to become vulnerable. There was a silent exchange, and with a slight flick of your hips, you parted your legs for him. He groaned happily and relished in the opportunity to deepen the embrace, his hot, hard length pressing against your throbbing, damp warmth. You couldn't stop the moans or the reactions from your body.

After several minutes passed, the pair of you broke from the lip lock. Both of you panted from the kiss, lips bruised.

"Is that a no?" your chest rose and fell rapidly.

"Sweetheart, I'm thinking of ways to bend you over and show you exactly what kind of relationship I want with you," he answered.

A soft peal of laughter escaped your lips as his mouth occupied itself in nipping your soft spots, igniting shivers down the column of your throat. "Have it your way then," you hissed between moans, spreading your legs wider to accommodate him. "You won't be buying me roses anytime soon, right?"

Jaehyun rolled his eyes with a light scoff. "How can I forget the way you dumped those roses on the ground yesterday?" He continued as he began the slow rocking, with your nails digging at his broad, muscular back. "Maybe I'll buy you other kinds of flowers."

"Bold of you to assume that I like flowers," you scoffed. "Bold. Really fucking bold, you know that, Jaehyun?"

Another dry huff of laughter. "Ah, I see I'll have to fix that then."

[pbandjeveryday]

Just watched Captain America: Brave New World and LOVED IT!

Spoilery list of things I loved under the cut

(I repeat, SPOILERS!!)

Joaquin Torres’s whole character. Seriously so well done, they made him loveable and fun and had that whole “don’t die” thing going to make me incredibly worried that something would happen to him and then something DID happen and I was so scared for him. Made me feel feelings, well done writers!

Harrison Ford’s performance. I really saw his struggle

Enjoyable callbacks with meaning/plot relevance to them - all of the Hulk things from the Hulk movie (which I honestly thought would keep getting swept under the rug forever), Elementals, Black Widow and the red room

BUCKY CAMEO! BUCKY HEARTFELT SPEECH! BUCKY AND SAM MOMENT!

Also laying the groundwork for Thunderbolts

Also though even before the Bucky cameo, that moment when Sam was all “reminded me of a friend” when he was thinking about Bucky’s trigger words, that made me feel cozy inside as well. I love Bucky and Sam’s relationship

Speaking of relationships, seeing how Joaquin and Sam openly cared for and worried about each other was so nice. When Sam was injured, Joaquin’s sincere “you good?” and Sam constantly trying to protect Joaquin from both the physical and emotional dangers of the job. Beautiful

Sam fighting the one guy at the beginning of the movie (didn’t catch the opponent’s name but the guy who scratched up Sam’s armor) reminded me very much of Steve’s fight scene at the beginning of Winter Soldier. Both times, Cap is blazing through the mission, then there’s this one person who can really fight so Cap pauses. Takes off helmet / sunglasses. Duke it out.

Sam continuing to not take the serum and trying to come to terms with that

But alongside that, I loved the line where Sam is facing Red Hulk and, although I can’t remember the exact words, he said something along the lines of how Bucky’s full of shit the serum would be really useful right now. Made me chuckle.

Just a couple things I wish we could have seen- first of all, Bruce Banner or perhaps Jennifer reacting to the Hulk-stuff happening. Even as a comic relief post credit scene I feel like that would have fit. Second of all, I feel like with Sam’s consistent worry for Joaquin and then the way he fell…I’m surprised there was no conversation about Sam’s first partner Riley who got mentioned in Winter Soldier. Riley, who also got knocked out of the sky on a mission (and died, fortunately Joaquin survived, but that’s got to weigh heavily on Sam). But idk, maybe I just need to write a fanfic where Sam talks to Joaquin about Riley and how he’s scared of losing another partner

However overall LOVE LOVE LOVED this movie! So excited to see how Cap and the new Falcon move forward!

[petzhamsterclub]

Cutscene - Suzy & Classmate

[Individual Frames can be viewed Here] [Image ID: A gif made up of a series of screenshots. Which shows a conversation between the characters. For the sake of this ID, classmate will be referred to as C, and Suzy as S. C: Huh...? S: Woah! Oof! ... Owie! C: What are you doing? S: I trilled while i was holding onto the desk... C: Yeah, I can see that. Why are you cleaning up all by yourself? S: Oh, that! The rest of the people on cleaning duty had other stuff to do and went home. C: Wow, aren't you a sucker, being used like that... S: I beg your pardon? C: Nothing. Here, you take the chair. S: Brrrrriiiing! Why, are you HELPING me?! C: Oh shush. Only 'cos I've got nothing better to do. S: ... Okay C: It's just this once. S: I'm glad you have so much free time -- just this once C: .......... end ID]

[satoruan]

FRIENDS WHO PLAY TOGETHER STAY TOGETHER ! ! — ARCANE

( tw ) f!reader. FF pairings. modern AU! masterbation. fingering. squirting. cunillings. dry humping. reader is kinda possessive in Vi’s. some yearning.

featuring. Violet, Caitlyn Kiramman & Mel Madarda

authors note. When you off that honey packet and ur home girl the only one in vicinity. Mel is so 🤭 I can’t she my type to a teeee. Anyways I’m about to go watch Act 2 WISH ME LUCK IM SCARED. Also idk how I feel about Kaits part I could do better 😔

VIOLET 

You and Vi were at another one of your friends' sleepovers. You didn't wanna come, you wanted to spend the Saturday just the two of you, alone. You hated sharing her attention, she was your best friend. You were each other's number one, why did you need other friends when you two were each other's everything. It was late now, almost everyone was sleeping or about to fall asleep when Vi crawled between the bodies of people to where you were laying. You didn’t notice until you felt the familiar embrace of her against your back. Despite yourself, you felt yourself relaxing against her body.  

“Are you still mad at me?” she whispered into your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your bare shoulder. “You know my favorite person. You have nothing to worry about.”  

“Yeah, whatever.” You grumbled. You weren't truly mad anymore but you knew what came next, what Vi did to reassure you that you were special to her. Her only best friend. You weren’t surprised when her hips rocked into your ass, when she pressed her tits against your back nor when her hand traveled underneath your oversized sleep shirt and cupped your breast. 

“Vi…” You sighed nuzzling into the arm underneath your head. She tightened her grip on your breast and rocked her hips into you. You push back harder and soon enough you guys find a rhythm. Your ass pushing down on her hips when she grinds up into you. Her callused palm grazes your nipple and you whine softly. She whimpers into your shoulder, finger going to your nipple when she pulls and twists. You wish her mouth was on you, you wish your mouth was on her. You turn your head to her “I love you the most. My favorite forever.”  

You feel her smile into your shoulder. “You're so beautiful, you know that?” translation: I love you too. 

MEL MEDARDA 

You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend’s tongue was inside of you. Licking you. Her lips were sucking on your clit, her teeth were biting your pussy lips. You could hear how wet you were—you could feel yourself leaking all over her face. “Mel!” You scream out into the dark room before slamming your hands over your own mouth. You don’t want anyone to see you—you don’t want her mother to see you, what a scene she would make. Seeing her daughter nose deep into her childhood best friend. Mel pulls her mouth off your clit with an embarrassingly loud pop. “Do you feel that? This is how you’re supposed to eat pussy darling.” She smiles when you just nod. Afraid that if you remove your hands from your mouth, you might confess something you don’t want.  

Plus, this was just a favor, strictly platonic, you were just friends. That’s why she was eating you out in the first place—you wanted to finally dip your toe into the dating scene but you were scared because you were inexperienced, you didn’t wanna leave your future partners disappointed in your nonexistence skills. And that’s where your best friend came in. Where you didn’t know anything about sex, she knew what felt like everything. Though you never saw her with anyone, she talked like she knew the ins and outs of men and women and she offered to teach you.  

“Now after you use your mouth and get them wet you wanna bring in your fingers, like this.” Mel grabs one of your thighs and pushes it down, giving her a better view of your dripping pussy before using her free hand and pushing a slender finger into you. You gasp. “I know you’ve fingered yourself before sweets, how many fingers have you shoved into this pretty pussy?” 

You whimper, hesitantly removing your hands. “T-two Melly.” You answer bashfully, using the nickname you gave her when you were children. She hums and adds another. You bite your lip, lower abdomen clenching when she curls them into your spongy g-spot. 

“Now pay attention to me alright?” She leans down to place a kiss on your pubs, leaving a trail of light kisses until she reaches your clit. She moves her hand out of you and a fast pace, fingers curling when she knuckles deep. You moan at the feeling of her hand pounding into you.  

She gives your clit a few kitten lips before wrapping her full lips around the swollen area. She bits hard enough for you to wince before she starts sucking. You feel yourself coming apart on her face before you can stop yourself. She hurriedly removes her fingers, mouth sucking you even harder when you feel liquid gush out of you. You grab the back of her head and scream. You can’t stop it, you don’t want to. You throw your thigh over her head and curl your foot into her back, still riding the high. When your pussy stops shooting the mysterious liquid out Mel’s fingers find themselves back inside, four this time. 

You feel tears collecting in the corner of your eyes, as she finger-fucks you. Mel pops back off your abused clit to whisper praises, good girl, you're doing so good, look at how well you take me, you feel heavenly, and when she goes back to playing with your clit you know you don’t want anyone to fuck you unless it’s her. Maybe you can ask her to teach you how to give hickeys next. 

CAITYLYN KIRAMMAN 

You were horny. Cait was horny. You both kept glancing at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, sussing out what the other was thinking. The movie you guys were watching was a rating away from being straight porn. When it was over you, both decided to call it a night. It was late she said. You guys had class tomorrow you said. When the lights turned off, you both said goodnight and laid down in your shared bed. You two were so close and loved being near each other that on the first day of the semester you pushed your twin beds together. Oh, how you were regretting that idea now. All you wanted to do was fuck yourself. You knew you weren’t going to fall asleep without an orgasm and so after twenty minutes when you thought Cait was asleep, you found your hand traveling into your boy shorts. You sighed in relief when your fingers grazed your throbbing clit. You rubbed it for a few seconds before shoving two fingers into yourself. 

That relief was short-lived when you heard a breathy moan that didn’t come from you. You tensed up and stopped. When you didn't hear anything—maybe she was making those noise in her sleep—you slowly started to move your fingers in and out, palm rubbing against your clit. You bite your lip to stifle a moan and turn onto your back. You could barely move your fingers in and out lying on your side. You part your legs and moan when you finally hit your G-spot. You're so horny but your imagination isn't cutting it. Opening your eyes you turn your head to find the outline of your best friend who was the star in some of your fantasies, her hourglass figure would for sure spark a fantasy. When your eyes adjust to the dark you're shocked to see Cait staring back at you, her blanket pooling at her hips when you could see her hand abruptly stop moving. Your Cait was masturbating too, in the same bed as you. A grin spreads along your face. 

“I-I’m not—”  

“I am.” You whisper, pushing your blanket off you. Her eyes immediately latch onto where your fingers are slowly pushing in and out. Your other hand comes up to your tank top where you push your shirt down. Your breasts spill out. Cait’s face turns into a tomato, eyes widening even more than they already are. She doesn't remove her gaze from your breasts when she starts fingering herself again. You watch her mouth part into a small O and her eyes roll to the back of her head. You imagine what she looks like riding your face and start to speed up. Your other hand twisting your nipples.  

“I-m gonna..” Cait whimper and spasms for a few seconds. You moan at the look on her face, so pleased with herself, and soon enough you're squeezing your eyes and coming too.  

[fleurdov]

this update actually broke me how am i supposed to function and act normal when i’m actually only thinking about the horrors of The Answer.

i really really loved this chapter though thank you so much for updating!!!! and now i will scream into the white void!!

THE ANSWER: XXVI

Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers ‘sect.’ pairing: ateez x fem reader genre: cult au, thriller, angst check warnings on AO3

← previous || next → || masterlist

chapter word count: 10,791

“What the hell did you say to Hongjoong?” 

Seonghwa is quick to start grilling you as soon as San leaves the two of you alone, glaring at you across from the dinner table. It takes you a few seconds to even remember what he could be referring to, that conversation with Hongjoong taking the back seat in your mind to everything else that had happened today. 

You set your spoon down, resting your elbows on the table, “I could be asking you the same question.” 

Seonghwa scoffs, mirroring your actions. He leans over the table, though, getting closer to you, “Well I asked first.” 

Frowning, you look him up and down, trying to make him squirm a little bit. Unfortunately for you, he doesn’t seem to find you very intimidating. In fact, he only leans closer to you, his face basically taking up your entire field of view. “What did Hongjoong say that I said?” 

Seonghwa’s eyes flit to your lips, but you pretend like you don’t notice. “He said that you told him we had sex. Among other things.” 

“I said no such thing,” you glare back at him, “I only heavily implied it.” 

“Why?” Seonghwa wets his lips, “do you want to get me in trouble, Princess?” 

You don’t want to be the one to back down from this confrontation, but being this close to Seonghwa without him touching you might actually make you insane. His stupid fucking hot ass fucking face. It’s too distracting. 

But… you’re more stubborn than you are uncomfortable. “Only if you want to get me in trouble.” He smiles a bit at that, but you continue, “if you must know, though, I had to use you as a bit of a scapegoat. I figured you wouldn’t mind, considering the lies you’re telling him about San and me.” 

“Lies?” Seonghwa says sarcastically, “what ever would I lie about?” The question is clearly rhetorical.

But you answer it anyway. “You told him that San and I are together.” 

Seonghwa’s smile grows, “and is that a lie? Aren’t you?” 

“Frankly, it’s not Hongjoong’s business, and it’s not yours, either.”

He brings a hand up to rest under his chin, shrugging his free shoulder. “Difference of opinion. Why should I lie to Hongjoong for you?” 

“Well, San and I aren’t together,” you shrug as well, hoping he’s not picking up on the fact that you’re lying through your teeth. It’s actually a bit… uncomfortable to lie about it like this. You don’t want to have to deny… whatever it is that you have going on with San, but that’s just how it is. You suck it up and hope that Seonghwa can’t see your internal battle as you spit the words out.

Seonghwa bites his lip, “is that so? So he wouldn’t mind if I…” 

You do lean back, then, smacking his elbow out from under him so that his head falls, hopefully shocking him back into reality. “You wish, pervert.” 

He catches his head before he actually hits it on the table, gaping at you, his eyes wide as if he can’t believe that you really just did that. Honestly, you’re kind of surprised that you did it, too. Seonghwa is so fucking tempting. But you’re stronger than that…

“Plus, what would he think,” you tip your head in Hongjoong’s direction, not surprised to see him already staring directly at the two of you. He had been congregating with some of the Followers, but his attention is now clearly occupied, a sneer appearing on his face when he catches you looking. “He already thinks we had sex, no?” 

Seonghwa looks back over his shoulder to glance at Hongjoong, quickly spinning back to face you when he sees the look on his leader’s face. “Yeah, thanks for that, by the way. I had the time of my life trying to explain that I had absolutely no idea what you were talking about.” 

You shrug, “I needed some way to get his mind off of the fact that someone told me about Haneul. It worked.” 

His eyes really go wide, then, “Haneul? Who the fuck told you about Haneul?” 

“You did.” You smile, finally picking your spoon back up to eat some more of your soup. This is a damn good soup, you have to remember to compliment Wooyoung on it… if you guys are on speaking terms. You’re not sure about that. 

Seonghwa groans, also resuming eating his dinner. “I’m going to get my ass handed to me, Princess. Why wouldn’t you just tell him the truth?” He pauses, dropping his spoon back into his soup, “ wait, let me guess. San told you?” 

You shake your head, taking another bite, ignoring his eyes.

“Who else have you been alone with?” 

You shrug again, just to piss him off. 

It doesn’t work. “When San attempted to help Haseul with the escapade last night, did he have someone watch you?” Seonghwa smiles in disbelief. “He really covered his bases. Who was it?” He searches your face as if the answer will be plastered on it. 

It might be, frankly. “It had to have been Wooyoung. Am I right, Princess? Wooyoung watched you? And told you? How on earth did you get that out of him?” 

Staying silent, you opt to keep eating your soup. Wooyoung is the obvious choice, looking at the people that San is close enough to trust with such a secret, so it makes sense that Seonghwa would be able to guess him so easily. But you’re not about to tell Seonghwa that he’s right, so you do your best to keep your face plain. 

“Oh, this is quite fun information. What else did he tell you? Did you see his back?” 

That must be what Wooyoung had been referring to, where his scars are. But, again, you’re not going to ask questions or make Seonghwa believe that he’s right. The last thing that you want to do is throw Wooyoung under the bus for spilling cult secrets that he clearly shouldn’t have. 

Seonghwa leans closer again, whispering, “if I promise to not tell Hongjoong, will you tell me? I’m very curious.” 

You also lean in closer, putting your spoon down once more, “absolutely not. But will you tell me about Haneul?” 

He rolls his eyes, leaning back into his original position. “No, I won’t. She’s quite a sore subject around here.” 

… Yeah, you could’ve guessed that. “Can you at least tell me about Jongho and her?” 

“No?” Seonghwa looks at you like you’ve really lost your mind, “that’s not your business, Princess.” 

“Oh, so their relationship isn’t my business, but my relationship with San is yours?” 

“So you admit to having a relationship with San, then?” Seonghwa smirks, pleased to have finally gotten something out of you.

You sigh, “if you’re jealous, you can just say so.” 

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, “why on earth would I be jealous of Choi San? If I wanted you so badly, you would be with me.”

You try to make yourself look disgusted at the mere prospect, “that’s bold, even for you.” You say this like the two of you had never been intimate. 

Seonghwa shrugs, looking you up and down before leaning closer once more. “If anything, I’m jealous of his ability to disregard Hongjoong’s orders.” The meaning of this admission isn’t lost on you.

You can’t resist returning the look, letting your eyes linger on the way the sleeves of his shirt strain around his biceps. Personally, you don’t give a damn about Hongjoong’s “orders,” but you’re not about to let Seonghwa win this by giving into him. And you have San to worry about. You lean in closer as well, smiling at Seonghwa. 

“You’re a pervert,” you whisper, keeping the smile plastered on your face. 

Seonghwa smiles, too, despite scoffing at your comment, “that’s really cute, coming from you, Princess.” 

“What is?” San’s voice appears from your side, making the both of you jump backward from each other. 

Seonghwa keeps the nasty smile on his face, looking up at San, “perfect timing, San. If you’d left her alone with me any longer…”

San gives you a puzzled look, sliding onto the seat next to you. He doesn’t get himself a meal, which is… a little strange, but you ignore it, going back to eating your own. 

He ignores Seonghwa’s comment easily. “I couldn’t miss the announcement, could I?” San asks Seonghwa, smiling tightly across the table. 

“Announcement?” You ask, looking between the two of them.

Seonghwa holds a hand up before San can start explaining. “You’ll see, Princess.” He smiles at you like you’re not going to like this announcement at all. “But, San, pray tell, where did you just run off to?” 

San gives you a sideways glance, and you can only imagine that he probably was doing something that you wouldn’t exactly care for. “I had a conversation that needed to be held, privately.” 

Seonghwa raises his eyebrows, “is that so? What ever about? Whomever with?” He asks these questions as if he knows perfectly well their answers, but wants to hear San admit it anyhow. “Why couldn’t your dear (Y/n) be in attendance?” 

You honestly aren’t really sure what San means, but the only explanation that you can think is… he apologized to Mingi? That would honestly make you rather happy, though, so you’re not sure why he wouldn’t want to say it in front of you. Maybe Seonghwa truly doesn’t know, and he wants to keep it that way? You’re honestly not too bothered by the fact that he doesn’t want to say. 

Before San can respond, the cafeteria falls completely silent. 

You twist in your seat to face the front of the room, not at all surprised to see Hongjoong standing there, his hands folded behind his back. He still has that weird outfit on, the ties of the robe dangling down, brushing against his knees with each small movement he makes. 

He looks to you, then, giving you a sideways smile before turning back to address the room. 

“It is with great joy that I make this announcement tonight.” The cafeteria is just as silent as the chapel. You look around, not at all surprised to see that not a single pair of eyes aren’t on Hongjoong. “Finally, we are prepared to start our harvest season.” 

A gentle applause starts, much like the kind you would expect at some sort of… gala, or something. Hongjoong holds a hand up and it immediately halts, everyone in the room once again waiting with baited breath. “Of course, this indicates the start of prosperous times for our group,” he gives you another glance, “but it also invites upon us some of the most troublesome ceremonies and events, as well as opening the door to… unwelcome possibilities.” 

… Yeah, whatever the hell that means. 

“As harvest will commence in the morning, our first event will happen during our morning gathering. I expect everyone to be in attendance, including children and those otherwise excused. It’s important that we are united as a group, as you all very well know.”

Everyone? Does that include Haseul? Surely it does, even if she hasn’t had a Choosing Ceremony. You want to believe that you’ll get to see your friend, but… You’re not sure. Hongjoong probably will keep her from you as long as he can; keep you on his little leash until he’s decided that you’re obedient enough again.

He waits, holding the attention of the room for a second longer, a tense look on his face. “You all must know that I don’t say these things to scare you. But the harvest season is trying for the Sign, and our connection is in peril every second that…” Hongjoong clears his throat around the words. “That we leave it unguarded. Those participating in the morning ceremony will be notified tonight.” 

With that, he turns away from the center of the cafeteria, eyes locking onto your table. Conversation picks back up as he strides toward the three of you, a smile replacing the tenseness. 

“Let me guess,” you say to neither Seonghwa nor San in particular, “I’m about to be notified of something?” 

Seonghwa smirks, “you can be so bright sometimes.” 

“(Y/n)!” Hongjoong calls your name when he’s a few feet away, closing the distance enough to rest a hand on your shoulder before asking, “Are you excited for your first harvest?” 

You blink up at him, amazed that he still even bothers, “you just made it sound like something to be weary of, rather than excited for.” 

He shrugs, squeezing your shoulder once before releasing you to sit next to Seonghwa. “We haven’t covered the Guardians yet.” 

“The what now?” 

Hongjoong waves his hand in the air to dismiss your question, “you’ll learn in due time.”

For a second, you think that Seonghwa even rolls his eyes, but that would be truly unfathomable. You’re happy enough to write off whatever the fuck the ‘Guardians’ are. The last thing you want right now is another lesson in cult lore.

“Anyhow,” he clasps his hands, resting them on the table. “You’ll be participating in the ceremony tomorrow. Its a fun one, too.” 

You look at San, though he’s looking anywhere but at you. Turning back to Hongjoong, you ask, “do I get to know what this ceremony entails ahead of time, or are you going to surprise stab me again?” You’re honestly surprised by how bold you feel, given everything that’s happened. Maybe seeing him cry reduces him a little bit… no, that’s not it. Whatever it was, you’re just not feeling particularly intimidated by Hongjoong at the moment, surprisingly.

Hongjoong waves a hand in the air, “there’s no need to be so dramatic, (Y/n).”

Honestly, you still think it was a fair question. But you feel lucky that he’s clearly in the bantering mood as well.

“You’ve already been Chosen; you won’t have to prove yourself again,” San offers, albeit rather quietly and more so to himself than to you. 

“I feel that its best that you’re prepared for the ceremony,” Hongjoong ignores San’s comment, “Seonghwa can cover it with you.” 

Seonghwa jerks his head toward his leader. “I can? I thought I wa—”

Hongjoong smiles, stopping Seonghwa in his tracks. “You’ll do as I say.”

He only nods in response, turning away from Hongjoong. To your relief, he doesn’t lay a glare on you once more, returning to his meal instead. 

“San, let’s talk privately for a moment,” Hongjoong rises, beckoning San to follow him. San furrows his brows, but stands anyway, following Hongjoong until they’re out of earshot from your table.

You turn your attention back to Seonghwa. “Let me hear it.” 

He drops his spoon again, looking annoyed at the prospect of having to spend anymore time with you. “I need a copy of The Answer to properly explain it.” 

“You’re telling me you don’t keep one on yourself at all times?” 

Seonghwa blinks at you. Leaning back, he unbuttons his jacket, reaching a hand to the inside pocket. Low and behold, he pulls a copy of The Answer from the interior pocket, gently placing it onto the table between you two. 

You had been half joking. 

He buttons his jacket again, sliding his tray away from himself. Wordlessly, he picks up the book, flipping to the back pages before landing on whatever page he was searching for. He turns his wrist, showing you the page.

Highlighted in yellow and underlined maybe five times is the title:

HARVEST PRACTICES

The chapter that follows is broken into a few different sections, from what you can see on the pages in view. The first subtitle reads:

INVOCATION AND PROTECTION

“Your hand is shaking too much for me to read that,” you complain, grabbing the book from Seonghwa’s hands. You slide your own tray away, setting the book on the table to read. 

The text continues.

Perhaps one of the most strenuous times a year comes during harvest season. Though the crop can be bountiful and the blessings many, there are also dangers that follow. This implicates the necessity to instate a protective guard around our group; a ward to protect ourselves so as to protect our Clones. 

On the first day of the harvest, the following ceremony must be conducted to insure safety throughout the season. The steps are outlined here; however HONGJOONG may adapt these provisions as he sees fit per the requirements of the year. 

Typical ceremony regalia should be worn by all Followers. Ten Followers are chosen at random to participate in the ceremony.

Participation is mandatory once selected; certain Followers may be required to participate every year due to their given role in Universe One. 

At 6 A.M. The ceremony begins. The ten Followers link hands in a circle.

They recite the following incantation, taking three steps to the left following each break.

On this day we make our vow.

The Answer is near; we shall not wonder or fear.

I myself am mighty and true. My blood will protect and provide anew

The barrier is weak.

United, we cast away the evil that would do us harm. We uninvite the spirits that dance between this Universe and the next.

Following the incantation, each member shall raise their hands. The ceremonial blade is presented, and each Follower shall gently open their left palm, letting the blood drop into the center of the circle while reciting:

I offer this vessel of myself for the betterment of the community. My blood banishes the evil from them, and calls it toward me. I swear this today and everyday.

At the completion of each vow, the final words will be said:

We call upon you to stay away.

The Sacrifice will then be presented. It is to be left on the altar for one day.

This is the conclusion of the ceremony.

This ceremony is not infallible. Should trouble arise before, during, or after, HONGJOONG and designated Followers will resolve the issue. 

You stop reading, looking up at Seonghwa. “Sacrifice?”

He nods. 

“That’s, like, pretty cliche,” you frown, “and that rhyme sucks.” 

“Be more respectful.” Seonghwa mirrors your frown, “Hongjoong isn’t a poet, he’s a prophet.” 

“Really? I thought he was God?” 

Seonghwa only gives you a more exasperated look, rolling his eyes.

You scan over the ceremony again, trying to make sure you’re getting the details correct. “What’s this about ‘calling the evil towards me?’ And the blood? Is that really necessary?” 

He glances over your shoulder, a relieved expression gracing his features, “San, you have a knack for perfect timing today.”

You turn to look back and, sure enough, San is approaching your table again. 

San looks between you, Seonghwa, and the copy of The Answer in your hands, putting the pieces together. “Questions?” 

“A few,” you mutter, suddenly not very interested. You don’t mind pestering Seonghwa for answers to all of your questions, but you aren’t keen on asking San the same way. “But it can wait. What did Hongjoong want?”

San takes his place next to you again, shrugging as he does so. “He was just letting me know the plan for tomorrow.” 

Seonghwa reaches for his book, plucking it out of your hands before you can respond to San. “I trust you won’t be needing my copy, anymore.” 

Resisting the urge to mock him, you respond to San instead. “Such as…?”

“When to be there, how to help you dress, so on.” 

So on… Why does it feel like there’s a lot more emphasis on the ending of that list? They had been gone for a good five minutes, there had to be more than that, surely. Why wouldn’t San tell you the whole truth? What good would that do for him? 

You stay quiet, trying to ignore your suspicions. If you can’t trust San, who can you trust? 

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

It turns out that you have to wake up significantly more early than usual.

San shakes you awake at four, ignoring your pleas for five more minutes. “I waited as long as I could, (Y/n).” 

You grumble and moan, but find it in yourself to get out of bed. For Haseul. That’s what you tell yourself. All of this is for Haseul. Your cooperation is for her. Had she not been here, you’d be kicking and screaming the whole way. 

But, unfortunately, Hongjoong figured out how to play you like a damn fiddle. So here you are, tugging on the same black dress pants that you had put on… what, three weeks ago? A month ago? Longer? You have no idea. 

You manage to button your shirt correctly this time, though your face burns at the memory of Seonghwa having to help you dress. What had happened to you? You never would have thought that the day would come where you would voluntarily wear this… cult regalia. 

San watches, already fully dressed by the time that he woke you up. You have to admit that he looks handsome in all black, the clothes clearly tailored to fit him. Two or three silver necklaces hang down his chest, matching rings gracing his fingers. He hasn’t put his mask on, yet, or his hat, leaving his features exposed in the security of your apartment. 

“Let me help,” he offers, squatting to his knees to help you tie your boots as you pull them on. He ties your right shoe as you tie your left, lacing them with the deftness of well-trained hands. 

Of course, he finishes before you do. He takes over tying your left shoe, smiling up at you as you yield the laces to him. “Thank you.” 

He only pats your knee, standing back up and offering his hand to you. You take it and rise as well, glancing at the clock. 4:29. 

The ceremony starts at 6. You’re not really sure why you have to be in positions so early, but… whatever. You’re not going to fight it. You can do this, you’re sure of it. For Haseul, you’ll do it. 

San opens the wardrobe, grabbing your two hats off of the top shelf. Had you ever noticed them sitting there? You’re not sure. Maybe someone had brought them in. 

He hands you yours, swirling his around on his finger instead of putting it on. “How are you feeling?” 

You put the hat on. “Fine.” 

“You sure?” He sounds genuine enough, and you don’t doubt that he’s at least a little worried for you. And, obviously, given the circumstances with Haseul… 

“I just hope I don’t fuck up.” 

San frowns, reaching for your hand. You let him take it. 

“Everything will be fine,” he promises, rubbing your hand with his. “It’ll be over before you know it!” 

Forcing a smile, you nod. He’s probably right. If you just grit your teeth and bare it, the whole thing will be over as quickly as you can say the stupid little incantation. There’s no reason to be afraid or worried. 

… That’s what you really want to believe. But you can’t bring yourself to think that it will actually be that easy. Something is going to happen. Something bad. You’re sure of it, now, in this moment. You’re more sure of it than anything else. 

Hongjoong won’t just let this happen. He won’t just let this pan out easily. He has something planned, and you’re sure that it’s something terrible…

The sacrifice mentioned in the steps… you had never had the chance to ask about it. Something is going to happen then, you’re sure. At the moment of the sacrifice or the moment that it’s presented, it’s going to be something beyond even your imagination. 

Hongjoong’s insanity knows no bounds, and that is something that you know for a positive fact. He can’t just have something go well or normally when you’re involved. He will have to stick his fingers in the pie, have to meddle to make something happen. 

Your stomach flips as you consider the possibilities. You suddenly feel woozy. 

“Hey,” San calls your attention back to the moment at hand, grabbing your other arm with his free hand. “Are you alright?” 

You blink at him, “Just a little lightheaded is all.” 

“Do you want something to eat?” He starts to pull you toward the kitchenette, but the thought of eating only makes your stomach feel heavier. 

Planting your feet, you shake your head. “No, no, I’m fine. I just want to get this over with.”

You’re not lying. If something is going to happen (when something is going to happen), you would rather just have it be done and have it be over. 

Whatever it is, you’re sure that you can survive it. You’ve made it this far without losing your wits or dying, you’re sure that you can make it through a ten minute ordeal. Even if it is particularly nasty or horrible. 

Fuck, you just hope the sacrifice isn’t a person. You’re, like, sixty percent sure that it won’t be, but… that forty percent is still a question mark. At least you know it won’t be you. 

That’s probably not the right mindset. But, hey, that’s life, isn’t it? 

San looks between you and the clock, looking disappointed. “I guess we don’t really have time, anyhow. I’m sorry.” He apologizes, dropping his hands from you. 

You brush off the apology, following him as he leaves the room and approaches your door. 

“You’re sure that you’re okay?” San asks again, pausing by your front door. “I can make up some excuse if I have to.” 

You don’t have to force a smile, this time. “I’m going to be fine as soon as this is over.” 

He nods in acceptance, opening the door and holding it open for you.

The two of you head to the chapel in silence, other Followers wearing their all-black regalia crowding the hallways and stairwells. A few people smile and wave at you, though you can’t really say that you recognize them. 

As you squeeze through the halls, you wonder where Haseul is being kept. In one of the single rooms, you’re sure, but which one… 

You almost have the urge to start knocking on every door on the women’s floor, jangle each doorknob and greet each person until you find her…

But that would be silly, and you know that. You’d only be punished if you went looking for her. Worse, she would probably be punished for your stupidity, too. 

That’s not going to happen. 

So you fight the feeling, just as you fought your panic. Your stomach is still a wreck as you follow San. You don’t hold his hand, not in public, but you wish that you could grab him for some semblance of comfort. 

He would take your hand if you tried, you realize. Clearly, he doesn’t have much of an issue speaking about your relationship, at least with Mingi. 

The memory of their argument brings a sour expression to your face. You’re still not very pleased with how San had acted, or with how Mingi had, either. Even after the apology… 

And San never confirmed that he apologized to Mingi. Well, you had never asked him. 

But whatever. That has to be a problem for another day, for another you. Or at least for the you of three hours from now. You can’t go into this being pissed at basically the only two people that you like here. 

That doesn’t give much credit to Nayeon or Yunho or Wooyoung or Yeosang, you realize, but whatever. You don’t need to be debating who your friends are and who your friends aren’t.

After what happened with Wooyoung, anyways, would you really consider him a friend? Had you really processed any of what he had told you? What the fuck.

Your head swims with the reality of everything that has been happening to you in the past couple days. You’ve experienced enough goddamn trauma to let Dr. Phil run another 12 seasons on you alone. Fucking hell. Literally what the fuck.

You finally reach the big doors, relishing the feeling of stepping into the cool outside air. The hallways had been stuffy with the weight of all of the Followers, and the sudden breeze is refreshing; especially given your fucking outfit. 

The sun hasn’t even poked above the horizon, yet. You wouldn’t even call it dawn. But you don’t have to squint to make out the chapel in this distance. 

The sea of Followers in front of you lead the way to the holy place, a swarm of black across the farm. 

You wonder how many of them there really are. If Hongjoong said that everyone had to attend this ceremony… fuck. There’s a lot of people. Just the people you can see outside seem to outnumber what you would have originally thought. 

How in the world had Hongjoong recruited so many people? 

How many of these people actually believed every word that he said? You’d have to assume most of them. What would they do to make him happy? To keep him happy? 

The thought sends an unwelcome shiver down your spine, only making your stomach worse.

The walk isn’t long, and you soon find yourself passing the doors that are being held open by the swarm of people crowding through them. 

It’s fuller than you’ve ever seen it, the chapel. Some people are already seated in the pews, chatting with their peers. The majority of the Followers, however, are still standing, mingling in the aisle.

You follow San’s lead, presuming that he’ll take you wherever you need to be. He goes about halfway to the front of the chapel, stopping in a less-populated area of the aisle in what you assume is an attempt to make you calmer. You’re not sure that it helps, but you appreciate the gesture, anyhow.

You wonder who the other Followers that were chosen for the ceremony are. Will anyone that you know be up there to comfort you? It probably wouldn’t make a difference, but at least one familiar face would be welcome. 

As you glance around the room, you find your eyes tugging toward the Sign of the Answer, the huge one on the wall. Hongjoong’s chair is gone in preparation for the ceremony, so you’re able to see it in all of its glory. Per usual, the chapel is lit by candles, and the light glints off of the Sign exactly how you remember it looking the night that you had been Chosen. The memory makes you more nervous.

San puts a hand on your arm, calling your attention back to him. You glance at his face first, only to see him looking ahead as someone approaches. For a split second, you’re worried that its going to be Mingi. 

But it’s only Wooyoung, you realize. 

He stops in front of you, two glasses in his hands. “Hello,” he greets you, looking between the two of you.

San returns the hello, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. Something about the sight of him disturbs you. And the glasses in his hands.

He gets straight to business.

“Drink this,” Wooyoung holds out a champagne glass filled with something that is decidedly not champagne. Instead of sparkling, yellow liquid, this is a flat, blood red. 

You hesitantly take the stem, tilting the glass to watch the liquid move. Thankfully, it doesn’t actually seem to be blood. You take a sniff, not all that surprised to smell the familiar red wine scent. 

“It’s just wine. For the nerves.”

Shrugging, you take a sip. He’s not lying, but… “Last time you fed me in this room you also drugged me.” 

Wooyoung mirrors your shrug. “Don’t drink it then.”

You glance at San, who also shrugs. 

“Well fuck it, then.” In an action reminiscent of your college days, you down the glass; ignoring the bitterness as best you can. 

Wooyoung takes the glass back from you. “Good luck, then.” 

He excuses himself, wandering back into the crowd with the other glass. You assume that he’s handing them out to all of the participating Followers, but you opt to stop watching him to look back at San.

“Do you think that was drugged?” You ask San, rubbing your palms on your jacket. 

His eyes go wide, “I wouldn’t have let you drink it if I thought it was!” 

“I’m not sure I trust Hongjoong that much.” 

“I do.” San puts a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it gently. His words don’t offer you any comfort, but the hand is pleasant enough.

Well, you’ll know soon enough, anyhow. Maybe this would all go a lot more smoothly if you were drugged, somehow. Your heart feels like a damn jackhammer in your chest.

You try to look around, wanting to spot any familiar face in the crowd for any sense of comfort. It’s just so damn hard with everyone dressed like the fucking grim reaper. You think that you spot Nayeon, briefly, her long brown hair contrasting beautifully to the fitted black of her coat. 

Yunho is hard to miss, his height only exaggerated by the hat atop his head. You’re not entirely sure where you stand with him, though, given your place with Mingi. If Mingi’s still pissed at you (which, to give him credit, you’re not sure if he is), Yunho probably is too. 

Speaking of Mingi, he approaches Yunho, his own height rather hard to miss in the crowd. He grabs his friend’s shoulder, exclaiming something that’s a bit too quiet for you to make out. But you know Mingi’s voice when you hear it. 

After this, you have to talk to Mingi. Even though you might be a little… upset? Disappointed? At his outburst and his childish behavior, you have to make things right by him. Yunho, too, you suppose. 

You still hold out hope that Haseul will make an appearance, though you’re sure Hongjoong made arrangements to keep her away. Though… if Mingi is here, who's watching her? It probably wouldn’t be hard to find someone else, but someone else that Hongjoong trusted that much… that’s a different story. You know that you should probably just drop it, but there’s something in you that feels like she’ll show up… you certainly have a lot of feelings, this morning. 

A hand wraps around your elbow, startling you. You don’t have to look to recognize Hongjoong, his touch alone enough to identify him, burning hot even through your jacket.

“(Y/n),” he purrs, holding you close to him, “how are you feeling?” 

You try to pull your arm away, to no avail. “Like I’m going to be sick.” 

Hongjoong laughs, “you’ll be completely fine. You’re not the sacrifice.” 

That doesn’t do anything to calm your nerves. That’s not what you’re worried about. And you’d rather not have to play one of his stupid games. “I have a sense that some anvil is about to fall on my head.” 

“Hmmm,” he hums, “maybe. Maybe not. It depends on what you’re picturing.”

“I’m picturing what you wrote in The Answer.” You force the words out through gritted teeth. It’s so fucking annoying when he does this; when he doesn’t just speak his mind. You’d much prefer him telling you that, yeah, you’re about to be grievously harmed than have him just dangle the thought in front of your eyes.

“Well, either way, I’m sure you understand what will happen if you disrupt the ceremony.” Hongjoong’s voice is laced with that sickening smile of his, “or if you fail to complete your part in it.” 

He’s right, he doesn’t need to remind you in the slightest. You can only imagine the fear that Haseul is in right now, but your own fear for her must be ten times worse. The idea of Hongjoong putting his hands on her makes your gut churn.

The fact that he backed you into such a perfect corner is almost sickening. It pisses you off to no end. Why did he have to bring her into this? Not that you would want him to use this treatment on Mingi, but, like, fuck, he at least already had him here. Was it really necessary to involve a completely innocent girl? 

If you didn’t care what happened to her, you might just spit in the man’s face at this very second. 

“I get it, Hongjoong.” 

“Then you’ll do great!” He releases your arm, opting to pat your shoulder a couple times. “Simply stick to the outline. Do your part. And it’ll be over quickly.” 

You take a deep breath, “Hongjoong,” you hope that saying his name will make him listen to you, “can I see her, afterword?” 

His hand stops on your shoulder, squeezing. “Let’s see how you fare, first.” His voice seems harder with these words, more sharp. Hopefully that wasn’t some sort of huge overstep to him. 

He cuts off the conversation at that, leaving your side to rejoin the crowd of Followers. He’s wearing the same outfit he had been wearing yesterday, the shiny material catching the light of the candles ever so as he moves. 

“San,” you turn toward where San was standing, only to find him gone. You whirl around in a circle in a way that must look comical, searching for where he could have gone off to. He doesn’t appear to be in your near vicinity, somehow completely, wordlessly disappeared. 

Dread swirls in your stomach. You were going to ask him if he knew what the sacrifice was going to be, finally reminded.

As if commanded by some outside force, the majority of the Followers suddenly stop their conversations. The room falls silent as people make their ways to their usual pews, sliding silently into their seats. 

Per usual, you’ve been left out of the loop. 

Without San to guide you into place, you really have no idea what you’re supposed to be doing. You look toward the front of the chapel, expecting to find Hongjoong glaring at you, but not even he is there to tell you what to do. 

Looking around to the other Followers that are still standing, you’re mildly surprised to see Yunho only a couple feet away. He catches your eye, tipping his head toward the front of the room in signal. He starts walking, so you start walking. 

You’re hyper aware of the sound of your footsteps on the wood floors, your boots clicking with each step. Yunho’s do, too. The steps are the only sound in the chapel. 

With bated breath, you reach the front of the room. You glance toward your usual pew, hoping to see San sitting in your spot. He’s not, however, only making the rock in your stomach that much heavier. 

Yunho steps up onto the little stage, offering you his hand to help with the step up. You take it, joining him and turning toward the congregation of Followers. From this angle, you can see… it takes you a second to count the heads… eight other Followers approaching the stage. You try to find Hongjoong among them, but he’s not there. Neither is San.

After what feels like forever, Yunho and yourself are joined by the others. You read this part, you feel okay about it. Well, not okay okay, but, like, you know. At least you know what to expect. 

Yunho grabs your left hand, as someone you can’t recall the name of takes the place to your right; taking that hand into theirs. 

The ten of you link into a circle, hand-in-hand. 

You had kind of expected there to be more guidance from Hongjoong in this process. A narration or a sort of sermon over the top of your actions, but Hongjoong remains unseen and unheard as the Followers around you start their recitation. 

“On this day we make our vow,” you don’t jump into the speech until the next sentence, unsure of how they knew that it was time to start. “From henceforth we pledge ourselves.”

You take three steps to your left. The Sign of the Answer twinkles in your peripheral vision. The Followers in the pews have their heads bowed. 

“The Answer is near. We shall not wonder or fear.” 

Three more steps. 

“I myself am mighty and true. My blood will protect and provide anew.” 

Three more steps to the left. This time, you almost step on Yunho’s toes. You try to look at the other Followers in your circle, but their heads are similarly bowed. You look back down at your feet. You’re lightheaded. 

“The barrier is weak.”

Your hands float upwards, along with the rest of the circle’s. Still connected, everyone’s hands hang in the air of the center of the circle. 

“United, we cast away the evil that would do us harm. We uninvite the spirits that dance between this Universe and the next.” 

Someone, you’re not sure who, breaks the circle first. Your eyes are closed, you realize. You open them only when Yunho’s hand leaves your own; barely hearing his hushed whispering at your side. Before you know it, the knife is in your own hands. 

It’s already sparkling with blood. At least Yunho’s. The lowlight makes it hard to see, but the Sign of the Answer does a beautiful job of illuminating just enough to reawaken your nausea. What the fuck is happening, right now? What the fuck are you about to do?

Yunho’s blood drips down the blade and onto your hand. It’s warm. 

You’re sure that you’re going to faint. 

But you hold the blade to your left hand, anyways, saying the words as quietly as you can. Surely, this is all just some batshit insane cult ceremony, but the weight of speaking them outloud is still sickening. 

“I offer this vessel of myself for the betterment of the community. My blood banishes the evil from them, and calls it toward me. I swear this today and everyday.” 

You swipe the blade across your palm, handing it off to the Follower next to you as fast as you can manage. You close your eyes again. Your hand burns. You almost think that you can hear your blood, dropping from your palm and hitting the floor.

At some point, the last person finishes. The knife clatters to the floor, the only sound in the chapel. You know to take three more steps to the left. And to finish the words. 

“We call upon you to stay away.” 

The scream makes you open your eyes. 

Disorientated, you realize that you’re facing away from the crowd, staring directly at the Sign. But it’s not glowing anymore. 

You turn around, blinded. Every candle in the chapel has gone out.

Was that the source of the scream? The lights going out? What the fuc—

The door behind the stage slams open. You jump again, spinning back as though you’d be able to see anything, anyhow. 

Someone in the audience wails. 

Are they seeing something that you’re not? Your heart pounds hard, so so hard. Is this panic? The spell? A heart attack? 

You need to sit down. Yunho grabs your hand before you can stumble off of the stage. He pulls you behind him, keeping the arm behind his back to hold you there. 

You fist the back of his coat, probably soiling the material with your blood, but it’s all you can do to keep yourself standing upright. The urge to vomit hits you again, but you prevail, closing your eyes as tight as you can. 

Is this supposed to happen? This wasn’t in the outline. Are you meant to feel like such shit right now?

How did all of the candles go out?

Who the fuck is interrupting? 

Something, or someone, drops in the middle of the circle. 

You open your eyes again, peering around Yunho. The rest of the circle had stayed in place. 

At the center of your circle, now, is a head. 

Not a human head, thank God, but a pig’s. Your stomach still revolts, still tumbling over and over itself as you slide back into your spot in the circle. You clamp onto Yunho’s hand like its the only thing that you’ve ever known, grounding yourself the only way that you can. 

Its still so dark. You close your eyes again

You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do now. Is it over? You hope to God that its over. You can’t take another goddamned minute of thi—

You open your eyes at the same instant that Yunho yells. Everything happens so fucking fast. 

Yunho falls backward, off of the stage. You process this secondly. Chiefly, however, your attention is caught by the figure now in front of you, where the pig head had been seconds before. 

It’s huge. You can’t comprehend it entirely, what it is that you’re seeing. It doesn’t even look human. It grabs your now vacant hand, pulling you away from the Followers. 

There’s a collective scream behind you, and you’re not surprised to realize that you’re also screaming. 

You try to look into the face. But it doesn’t have a face. It’s nothing. Is this death? 

You’re falling backwards, now. Before you know it, you’re on the ground, curling in on yourself.

Someone turns the overhead lights on. You cradle your hands to your chest, aware of the fact that you’re crying. The tears are hot on your cheeks. The blood is hot on your hands. The feeling of that, that, fucking thing making you want to retch. 

What the fuck was that? What the fuck? 

Hongjoong appears at your side, his face blurry. From your tears, from the panic? You’re not sure. 

He asks if you’re okay. You can’t answer him. You close your eyes again.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

In your sleep, you see it again. 

Even in this instance, you can’t tell what it is. It’s shaped like a person, but you can’t look directly at it. You know that if you look, it won’t have a face.

In your dream, it’s even bigger than it was. It towers over you, grabbing you over and over, your screaming and begging doing nothing to appease it. 

You can see its hands as they reach, as they latch onto you. They’re white. But they’re not skin. It’s cloth, you realize, gloves. 

The rest of it is white, too. But it certainly doesn’t look like clothing. You couldn’t ever explain it to someone if they asked, and you’re much too terrified to go digging into the details. 

All you know is that it doesn’t have a face. It’s not natural. Every part of you hates every part of this thing. 

You want to wake up.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

And so you do, in the infirmary. 

The first thing you see are the familiar ceiling tiles. The second thing is Hongjoong.

You startle awake, twitching in on yourself as you try to sit up. 

Hongjoong sucks in a breath, though he doesn’t get to his feet to help you. He’s still wearing that outfit. 

You’re still wearing yours, you realize. The pants rub uncomfortably against the blanket laying over you. You’re able to sit up easily enough, and you’re relieved to realize that nothing hurts. You feel fine.

“So, do you believe me now?” Hongjoong asks once you’re up, but he’s not smiling in triumph as you would’ve imagined.

“What the fuck was that thing?” 

Hongjoong sighs, “Exactly what I was trying to protect us from. A guardian.”

You blink at him, dumbfounded. There’s literally no fucking way in hell that Hongjoong has been right about any of this. He’s insane. He is fully, entirely, batshit insane. 

You can’t explain away whatever the fuck just happened, but you’re not about to accept that he’s been telling you the truth. That there are alternate universes and demons that can jump between them. That’s not real life. That’s not how the world works. 

Whatever just happened, whatever that was, there’s a reasonable explanation. Surely. 

Though you can’t imagine what that explanation would be, it must exist. The last fucking thing in the world that you’re going to do now is believe in Hongjoong. Like, what the fuck? What the fuck? Why would you fucking believe in a fucking religion that has fucking faceless demons fucking running around freely? You wouldn’t. You refuse. You will not. 

Even if that is the only explanation for the thing in white, you are not going to believe it. You would sooner believe that you have a hallucination disorder than accept that Hongjoong is right about anything. 

Thinking about it, you probably would have to have some sort of psychosis to accept any of this. But, then again, this is exactly the sort of thing that would trigger psychosis… 

You’re thinking way too fucking hard about this. It is simple. Hongjoong is a freak.

“Where’s San?” The question is natural. 

Hongjoong raises his eyebrows, “Interesting follow-up question. I thought it best to separate you two for now.” 

“Why?” 

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he stands up. “How is your hand?” 

You had honestly forgotten about it. Holding it up, you examine your bandage. “Fine.” 

The two of you stay in silence. Hongjoong seems mad. 

“Is that really all you’re going to ask?” He asks, almost sounding whiny. Like a child. 

It’s certainly all you’re going to ask him. He’ll only lie to you. “Can I see Seonghwa?” You ask instead.

Hongjoong scoffs. He brushes his hair back, looking around the room as if he’s expecting some live studio audience to empathize with him. “I know you’re not fucking him.” 

You shrug. “Are you okay, Hongjoong?” 

His face falls flat. He crosses his arms over his chest, turning to fully face you again. “I’m great.” The words are strained. You’ve never known Hongjoong to be a bad liar. 

“You seem kinda pissed.” 

“I am not—” He closes his eyes, bringing a hand up to his forehead. “I’m fine. I’ll have Seonghwa come visit, since you clearly won’t be speaking to me.” He says this like he expects you to apologize. But what the hell would you apologize for? 

Hongjoong leaves without another word once it becomes clear that you won’t be giving him what he wants. You’re sure that he expected more crying, more fear, more begging and pleading for answers. 

You save that for once you’re sure that he’s gone.

Trembling, you pull your knees to your chest. Your fingers twitch with fear, your hair feels foreignly heavy, your wrist burns and burns where the thing had touched you. 

You refuse to believe that it was real. It cannot be real. None of this can be real. There was some trick, some show, some plan that you weren’t privy to. Seonghwa will tell you. He’ll have to tell you. He’s honest, most of the time. He’ll explain it away, he’ll tell you how Hongjoong did it and why it seemed so real. 

Where was its face? 

How had they done that? Where the fact should have been, there was nothing. You couldn’t even say that it was a color. It was a void. An emptiness. There was nothing there. 

The memory makes you dizzy. You lean back against the pillows, praying to God that you’re not going insane. Had you really seen that? You couldn’t have. Because that’s just not something that’s possible. 

If Seonghwa can’t explain this, you might go crazy. You might. What else is there to do? It wasn’t real. But the fear that you’re feeling now certainly is. 

What if it comes back? What if they make it come back? What was it? Where was its face? 

Even though whatever the fuck that was wasn’t real, the memory certainly is. You’re going to be lucky to sleep soundly one night for the rest of your damn life. What the fuck. 

Seonghwa lets himself into the room only a few minutes after Hongjoong had left. 

“You like me so much that you ask for me now?” He smirks, approaching your side. 

His face falls flat when he takes a good look at you. “Stop that. Why are you crying?” 

“Seonghwa.” You feel that it’s quite obvious why you’re crying. 

He only blinks at you. 

“What the fuck was that?” Your voice shakes with the question. 

“I—” He starts, opening and closing his mouth a few times. “Its complicated.” 

You cover your face with your hands. “Was it real? Just be honest.” 

You can’t see his reaction to your question, and he doesn’t answer it, either. 

“What was it?” You moan, hardly able to even spit the words out. To basically admit to Seonghwa that you were scared.

“I think it would be better if you talked to Hongjoo—”

“I am not talking to Hongjoong!” 

You take your hands away from your face, needing to look at him. You hate him. You hate him more than fucking anything. Why can’t he just be honest? Why is he Hongjoong’s little fucking doll? Why does he worship him to such a degree when he’s this fucking evil? Where would he draw the line? 

Seonghwa is stunned into silence. He only stares down at you.

“All I can say is that I didn’t know it was going to happen.” 

He looks blurry through your tears, only making you angrier as you recall Hongjoong looking the same way.

“Stop bullshitting me, please, Seonghwa,” you beg. “I think I’ll go insane if you don’t fucking answer me.” 

He turns away from your bed, striding to one of the medicine cabinets in an attempt to look anywhere but your face. He rakes a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead momentarily. 

“What do you want to hear?” He asks, turning back toward you, though he keeps his distance. “Would you rather know what Hongjoong is capable of or would you rather keep the comforting thought that he’s right? Wouldn’t that just be easier for everybody?” 

“You’re saying that Hongjoong can do things scarier than the thought of fucking interdimensional demons being real?” You throw your hands out in front of you, almost yelling in frustration. 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! Yes!” Seonghwa matches your tone. “He’s only going to come at you harder. He exists to make you break! Just fucking accept the truth for what he says that it is, and everything will come easily!” 

“I’m not going to do that!” 

Seonghwa laughs bitterly. “I’m sure you believe that, too, Princess.” 

You stare back at him, sure that you look insane. “Can you be genuine for one fucking second?” 

His face contorts into a scowl. “I’ve never been anything but genuine with you. You’re the one that deludes yourself.” He strides back to the door, freezing in the frame. “Is there anything else you wish to fling at me?” 

“I’m taking this to mean that it wasn’t real.” 

“If that helps you sleep at night.” 

Seonghwa leaves. 

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

Can you bear some girl time? You’re not sure as Nayeon lets herself in, walking casually into the room as if the literal antichrist of her religion didn’t just make a physical appearance before her. 

“How are we feeling?” She asks, dragging out the vowel sounds in her question. 

“Uhm,” you look at your hand, the only injured part of your body, “fine, I guess.” 

“Perfect!” She smiles, reaching out to put her hand under yours. “The bandage looks fine. I don’t think it’ll reopen.” 

Nayeon had found time to change her clothes. She’s back to her usual farm girl outfit, smiling and happy. 

“Are you alright, Nayeon?” You ask, curious to know what a regular Follower made of what the fuck happened. 

She frowns, and then shrugs, and then smiles again. “I mean, it was, like, a bit scary. But Hongjoong made it go away, and he’s always with us, so it’s not like it can come back to hurt us. I was definitely scared at first, but then he showed up and I knew it would be okay.” 

“Uh-huh,” you nod, slowly. Nayeon has always been a valuable source of information for you. 

“It was just so valiant; do you remember how he saved you?” She giggles, “he still has it going for you. It’s amazing.” 

You shake your head. “I can’t say that I remember much…” Other than the fucking maw of emptiness. 

“Oh, well I got you.” She pulls up one of her rolling stools, sitting herself down right next to your bed. “So the ceremony went great. Textbook, really. But as it was finishing… I guess I’m not really sure how it happened, either. Like, one second everything was fine, and the next Yunho was on the ground— he’s fine, by the way; wind knocked out of him, but yeah, anyways— and the Guardian was there and everyone was screaming, it was so scary. I guess it grabbed you… and then Hongjoong appeared and it was like his presence just scared it away. I didn’t see what happened exactly… but the next thing I knew you were on the ground and Hongjoong was hollering for my help.” 

She shrugs. 

What you gather from that is that she didn’t see how it got there or how it left. Good signs, probably. She’d certainly remember seeing something… appear out of thin air. You almost want to smile. What a silly thought, that that could have all been real… haha… ha… yeah, funny…

“I see…” You respond, not sure what you’re supposed to say, “how much time has passed?” 

Nayeon looks at her watch, “like, three hours.” 

Great. Perfect, actually. It would be very unfortunate to find out that you had been unconscious for a week again, especially given the circumstances with Haseul. She’s probably already freaking out, but not hearing anything from you for a week… 

Is Hongjoong going to let you see her? After your brush with death? It wasn’t your fault that… whatever happened happened. Like, he planned that, not you. Surely he can’t hold this over your head. If anything, you basically almost just got kidnapped into a parallel universe, he should be treating you very kindly, right? 

Asshole. He’s probably going to bitch and moan for the next week about you not being scared of him. Fucking asshat. 

But… God, ugh, this is all so frustrating. On one hand, you’re pissed at him for, you don’t know, literally everything that he’s ever done to you, maybe? But on the other, you know that you’re going to have to play by his rules to get him to leave Haseul alone. Or, well, at least as alone as he can.

When is she going to have a Choosing ceremony, you wonder? Yours didn’t take very long… 

Well, if he doesn’t let you see her after this, at least you have that to… tentatively look forward to… ew, you don’t even want to be thinking like that. 

Nayeon stands at your side, bringing you back. 

You don’t realize why until you look behind her, only to spot Yunho standing near the doorway. 

He’s changed out of his clothes, thankfully. But just seeing him is enough to flood your mind with the thought of the thing, your stomach lurching over again as he welcomes himself into the room, clearing his throat. 

Nayeon pats his shoulder as she walks past him, excusing herself. Yunho stops at the foot of your bed. 

You have to admit that he might be one of the last people you would have expected to visit you, now. You had been thinking it before everything happened, but you don’t really think he has any lost love for you, given your circumstances with Mingi. 

“Thank you,” you break the silence, forcing the words out before you can think better of them, “for, uhm, trying to help me. And, I mean, actually helping me, too.” You can’t forget that he had kept you standing when the sacrifice was presented. How ruined is his coat?

He awkwardly looks at his hands, which are gripping the rail at the end of your bed. “Don’t mention it.” His voice is so meager that you barely can hear him. 

Yunho doesn’t look up. You’re not sure what else to say. So you speak without thinking, again. “How’s Mingi?” 

He peeks up at you, but then goes right back to staring down. “He’s… uhm, well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” 

He pries his hands off of the rail, but then stares at them like he’s unsure that they’re even his hands. Tucking his hands behind his back, he continues, though he still doesn’t look straight at you, “I, uhm, yeah. Mingi is worried about you, and I think his worry came off the wrong way to you and San.” 

“Uh-huh,” you nod, slowly, and semi-sarcastically. You could’ve guessed that. “He has an interesting way of showing it.” 

Yunho takes a deep breath, “He doesn’t know that I’m here. I just thought that I would try and explain his side of things. From his perspective, he is the reason that you’re here and he feels guilty for that; but he’s also pissed that you’ve gotten close with San so quickly, because he doesn’t like him and he feels like you won’t take his concerns seriously.” 

“I don’t see what there is to be concerned about,” you plainly state, “do you have something against San, Yunho? Any reason at all to believe that Mingi could have reason to suspect that he’s not what he shows me?” 

Yunho startles when you say his name, like someone barely inhabiting their own body. “I mean, no. I think Mingi is probably just projecting his fear onto San, but don’t tell him I said that.” 

“Exactly. So why should I have to cater to Mingi’s ego?” The words sound harsh even as you say them, but its a genuine question. You don’t have much reason to believe that San would ever do anything to hurt you… besides him being someone that Hongjoong clearly trusts, but, like, you’ve been over that a million times before. 

Yunho just shrugs. “I don’t know. I just thought that maybe you would hear me out, since I know it’s hard for you to be alone with Mingi.” He stops his nervous fidgeting, finally looking directly at you. “I wasn’t nice to you because I harbor any sweetness towards you, for the record. I don’t even care that you’re the new object of Hongjoong’s affection. I only tried to help because I knew that, if I didn’t, Mingi would have.” His voice is harder than you’ve ever heard it; a shocking contrast to how he had been speaking just moments earlier. He maintains eye contact with you, his eyes dark. 

You’re the one to look away, this time, disturbed by what he said. What a very random and slightly disturbing thing to say. 

When you look back up at him, Yunho is already nervously looking around the room. His hands are in front of him again as he plays with his fingers. 

“Well,” you clear your throat, “thanks anyways, Yunho.” 

“Yep,” is all he says before leaving your room, basically running. 

… That was strange. Very strange. 

Nayeon doesn’t return. You’re left alone, puzzling over that entire interaction.

What… what was the point of that? Like, okay, sure you can get him wanting to try and vouch for Mingi. But… uhm??? The last part? What? Why was that so ominous? Huh? 

You had never known Yunho to be particularly timid… or… rude… This all is just very weird. Maybe even weirder than the fake demon situation. 

No, scratch that, definitely not any weirder than that. That one is gonna keep you awake for a while. A good while. But Yunho’s behavior was definitely not his usual, which is almost concerning. Almost… only because you suppose that you don’t really know him that well. Maybe he’s only really nice and outgoing to strangers… 

That wouldn’t make sense, either. 

Whatever, you really can’t be worrying about that right now. You have priorities. 

Priorities of which you would list, at least in your head, if San didn’t come barreling through the door the next moment. 

You startle, shocked by his sudden appearance. He’s changed, but he doesn’t look great. His hair is a mess, his lip is split, his shirt is untucked in places.

He reaches out for you, and you reach him halfway, grabbing his forearms as he grabs yours. Wordlessly, he looks over your face hastily, pressing his lips to yours before you can ask what happened. 

Your lips part, and he puts his forehead on yours. “We need to get out of here. As soon as possible.” 

← previous || next → || masterlist

[temiizpalace]

☆┊YOU DREAM OF ME??

SUMMARY: entering the dream world was such a strange feat.. especially seeing yourself in somebody else’s dream.

CHARACTERS: jade leech-centric

GENRE: fluff, crackfic

WARNINGS: you act cringe because jade leech is a cringy guy with wattpad fantasies + BOOK 7 SPOILERS + canon divergence (some dialogue is not exact cause i lowkey forgot, some moments didn’t actually happen, and i shortened it a lil so i don’t have to write too much)

NOTES: while writing this, it turns out someone else had a similar idea so i was hesitant to upload the writing. however, I’ve decided to anyways. that being said, crediting said individual is still in order since they had the idea first.

please check out @.paralleljoys post here (IF ANY ISSUES PLEASE SEND ME AN ASK, TY!)

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

🐬∘˙

you didn’t expect this. nobody expected this, actually.

jade leech, cunning, observant, quiet, and mysterious. he was one to keep his cards close to his chest and play it safely to ensure the best outcomes. and yet, here we are, in said eels dreams. a look inside of his thoughts, how he truly saw people, how he—

“jade you’re so cool! i love love love love loveeee the way your mind works sooooo much!” a voice, sounding similarly to yours, chimed. “fufu, you flatter me, my pearl..”

your jaw dropped, grims jaw dropped, you can hear idia falling out of his seat from behind the screen, jamil’s eyes had never been opened wider, floyd cringed, silver looked away, ortho could barely compute, and sebek had the most genuine disgust written on his face.

was that you? you thought azul and floyd looked stupid, BUT THAT WAS YOU? jamil slapped a hand over grims mouth, preventing the direbeast from cackling his lungs out at the sight of your pathetic image. “MYAHAHA, HENCHMAN YOU LOOK SO STUPI—“ “keep quiet.” jamil mutters, slightly smirking. you could tell he was also containing his laughter, making your face change in hue.

“eww, no way. i knew jade was all lovey dovey with the prefect but i dont wanna watch it. what a sap.” floyd groans, looking at dream you, real you, then at jade. “i dont wanna watch this either! if you guys are embarrassed how do you think i feel?!” you murmur, hiding your face in shame.

“my pearl, open wide.” jade grins, holding a piece of shrimp in his hands. “oh my, jade you sweetheart!” you giggle, opening your mouth so jade can feed you. idia snickers, holding back a laugh. you can practically see his smug expression in your mind. “he has the fantasies of a trashy middle school fanfiction, what comedy gold.”

silver clears his throat, trying to regain the attention of the group in order to free jade from his dream. while everyone with a logical mind held an equally logical discussion, you, floyd, and grim were too focused on the scene before you. “jade, you and shrimpy should just get married.” dream floyd grins, pushing you two together.

“agreed. you both are a match made in heaven!” dream azul says in between sobs, wiping his tears away with one of his tentacles. “why, what a splendid idea! azul, please make arrangements right away. we shall wed at once, my dear.” jade chuckles, holding you close in his arms. “j-jade!? i don’t know what to say..”

“do you not wish to marry me?” he asks, his thumb tracing your chin. his voice was low, yet soothing at the same time. “it’s not like i don’t want to..” dream you mumbles, avoiding his eyes by looking at the ground with a pout. REAL you, on the other hand, can’t bear the sight of it anymore. neither can floyd. or grim.

“let’s continue to overcome hardships and conquer many mountains together.” jade laughs, pulling you all in by the shoulders. as the dream variants of jades loved ones cheer, floyd swims in and swoops down, attacking his brother and his dumbed down dream him.

“I CANNOT STAND IT ANYMORE!” floyd grunts, scowling at his dear brother, who held an expression of shock. “f-floyd? there’s two of you..?!” he stutters, looking at his dream twin and his actual twin. “they’re mirror images of each other! how can you tell them apart!” azul exclaims, wiping his eyes to get a better look.

“who is this? can i hug you and eat you? hehe.”

“i originally thought you weren’t interested in other people, but you have a limited memory. “i dont eat dance and eat shrimps stuck in between rocks.” floyd scoffs, staring at his dumbfounded doppelgänger. “floyd.. doesn’t eat shrimps.. or dance..?” jade ponders, feeling his mind begin to waver.

“jade! im scared!” dream you screams, curling up in the boys arms. your eyebrow twitches, tired of the humiliation you witnessed thanks to jades horrible imagination. following your impulse, you run out with floyd, despite the shouts of your name.

“PREFECT! GET BACK HERE! WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU TRYING TO ACHIEVE?!” sebek shouts, but his voice falls on deaf ears. he made a point though, what were you doing? it’d be much safer to just stay back and watch this play out, so why the hell are you trying to get involved?! “p-pearl?!” jade gasps, eyes wide in disbelief.

“th-there’s also two of you.? what in the seven is going on here?” he swam back slowly, unraveling the scene before him. two brothers, two lovers (well not officially..), and a whole school of students that seem familiar, but unsure as to where.. you could tell jade was beginning to wake up! it’s only a matter of time..

“jade, don’t be fooled. floyd shouldn’t be that ugly bastard, he should be more innocent and cute. and look at [MC], they love you so much they don’t know what to do with themselves! don’t be tricked by that fraud.” azul sneers, pointing at you and floyd, much to your dismay. just taking a glance at floyd was enough to be able to tell he was this close to breaking every bone in dream azul’s body and frankly you don’t blame him.

“i see.. floyd has been very charming to his relatives and my pearl wouldn’t leave my side so quickly,” jade hesitates, glancing at his two brothers. “i should go. they all really need me.” he smiled politely, swimming towards what once looked like his loved ones, now forming into large piles of dark goo. as jade was nearly consumed by the darkness, floyd swims past quickly. you stood on the eels back, landing a hit on dumb dumb floyd, crybaby azul, and cringe wattpad you.

“I DO NOT SOUND LIKE THAT.” you finally yell, catching nearly everyone’s attention. “it’s no use. we have to help out.” jamil sighs, lifting his magic pen. “let’s go!” silver shouts, rushing into the spot where you and floyd had already began your attack. as the fight rages on, the others serving as a distraction for jade, floyd had continued to land hits on the watered down versions of yourselves with ease before they finally shouted for help.

“it hurts! help us, jade!” dream floyd cries. “rescue us, jade!” azul cries. “oww! protect us, jade!” dream you screams, finally catching his attention. “how dare you! you fake. get behind me, i got this.” jade hisses, attacking floyd directly. you felt your balance falter on floyd’s back, slipping before falling near the vents. “prefect!” ortho shouts, rushing over to catch you til you fell into jamil’s arms safely. “it’s not safe, the vents are crumbling due to the fighting. retreat for now!” he directs, running towards a safer location.

“your carelessness nearly got you killed, prefect.” jamil sighs, looking down at you with a concerned yet tired expression. “sorry, i just couldn’t take it anymore!” you groan, crossing your arms angrily. “you can set me down now, jamil.” you pat his arm, breaking him from his daze. “..right.” he mutters, placing you down gently. they began to discuss different ways to wake up jade, before sebek finally settled on just electrocuting them.

“be careful, sebek.” silver reminds him, patting his shoulder before the boy ran out. “pierce the cloudy sky, lightning! living bolt!”

the tweels stop their fighting, electricity trickling all over their body leaving them temporarily paralyzed and passed out. after a few moments, their eyes fluttered open, being met with millions of other stares. “jade!” azul shouts, pushing floyd at the way with a grunt. “thank goodness you’re alive! i could’ve lost my cute subordinate!” he sniffles, causing jades eyebrow to raise. “..cute subordinate?”

“i’ll cry if jade is gone! don’t go anywhere!” dream floyd sighs with a dopey expression. “jade you idiot! you could’ve gotten seriously hurt and id never forgive you!” dream you sobs, rushing over to hold his hand hastily. “hm. that’s strange. the floyd and azul i know would never say something like that.” jade scoffs, looking at the two with disgust.

“huh?” they gasp, staring at him as if he said something crazy. “was sebek’s lightning so powerful, jade is finally starting to awaken?” silver mumbles, raising a finger to his chin. “awaken.. why am i here in the first place..?” jade groans, recollecting his thoughts slowly. “so.. i am a student at night raven college.. on land? agh.”

“my head feels like it’s going to split!” he winces in pain, holding his head as he shouts. all his memories finally began to come back to him, all the moments he had during the year turning the gears in his mind til he was finally back to his senses. “how could i possibly have forgotten something so important?” he huffs, looking back at the doppelgängers behind him.

“floyd would never act so obedient, he’s much more domineering. azul would give orders to others without putting himself in danger as much as possible.” he pauses for a moment, staring at your fake before shaking his head. “[MC] would have never acted so defenseless. what an embarrassing feat. i was acting quite strange.” jade sighs, turning his back towards the trio.

they had all began to complain to jade, asking why he would believe such fake things. dream you broke into tears, curling in floyds arms with a sob. jade would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little jealous, but it’s not the real you so he’ll hold back. a little. they all clung onto jade, begging him to reconsider his decision before he finally spared them a word.

“can you please not touch me? creepy.” with a quick slash, the floyd and azul clones were reduced to goo. jade looked at the fake you, slightly hesitating at your trembling figure. alas, they were spared no expense and fell back into the darkness, crying his name and dragging out each syllable.

“no mercy..” idia stuttered, chewing on his nail. “he was protecting them with his life, only to end them once he realized they were fake.” jamil states, scratching his chin while replaying the scene back in his head. “scary..” idia murmurs. “finally awake, jade?” floyd punches his brothers arm, earning a chuckle. “yes, thank you.”

they share a laugh before hitting each other suddenly, startling each and every one of you. “floyd, you dare have hurt your own brother? i thought my whole body was going to fall apart. have you no mercy on your own blood? how terrible.” jade wiped away a tear, floyd not buying it for a single second.

“jade leech.” his banter was cut short by the sounds of your voice, your stern tone telling that this will not end well for him. “w-why, [MC]! how might i be of service.?” jade smiles, remaining his composure well. “don’t “how might i be of service” me! you have some serious explanation to do once we’re out of this stupid dream.” you scowl, staring him down with an intimidating glare.

jade, seemed unfazed. he was certainly embarrassed, but who is he to let it show? “oh dear, is it quite wrong for one to dream of their mate while asleep?” he shakes his head, catching you off guard. “mate?” everyone collectively questions. “uhm, yeah. do you guys not notice?” floyd scratches the back of his neck as if it were the most obvious thing.

what the hell is he talking about? mate? what.. when? that’s.. it’s not possible. “what are you on about, leech?” you sneer, causing him to grab your hand with a smile. “would you care for me to show you?” he grins teasingly, pulling you in til you rested on his chest. “hey! why you—“

“enough. you two are more than free to discuss this mishap after malleus is defeated. right now, we’ve got bigger problems to focus on.” jamil frowns, separating you two from each other. “..right. im not done with you yet.” you glare at the eel in front of you, much to his amusement. “i look forward to it.”

despite the topic being held for later, you couldn’t help but let jade’s words and fantasies linger in your mind for a moment longer. the statements he had said, the actions he had performed, all of it made you feel.. special.

“he dreams of me?”

A/N: i got lazy at the end whoops. anyways what if i write a jamil one?? double anyways what if jamil and jade love triangl— *gunshots*

im not used to writing long fics for characters by themselves and i think you can tell

date published: 8/22/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[padfootagain]

Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Pairing : Hozier x fem!reader

Professor! AU

Warnings: hurt-comfort, angst, fluff, no smut but suggestive scenes so 18+ only

Chapter 1 : 'And that orange, it made me so happy, as ordinary things often do just lately'

Chapter 2 : 'Through me the way to the City of Woe'

Chapter 3 : ‘I miss him in the wheeping of the rain; I want him at the shrinking of the tide’

Chapter 4 : ‘For he gave all his heart and lost’

Chapter 5 : ‘But here comes the lyrebird passing through the sky’

Chapter 6 : ‘I’ll lie here and learn how, over their ground, trees make a long shadow and a light sound’

Chapter 7 : 'And so I still wait, like a lonely house, for you to see me and inhabit me again. Until that time, my windows ache.'

Chapter 8 : 'I hope she never learns how to peel oranges'

Chapter 9 : 'I think I will always be lonely in this world, where the cattle graze like a black and white river-- where the vanishing lilies melt, without protest, on their tongues'

Chapter 10 : '[I] was angry that my trust could not repose in the clear light, like poetry or freedom leaning in from sea'

Chapter 11: ‘Lived to see you throwing me aside.’

Chapter 12 : 'Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again'

Chapter 13: ‘So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish.’

Chapter 14: ‘Why should I blame her that she filled my days with misery’

Chapter 15: ‘He’s bored- I see it. Don’t I lick his bribes, set his bouquets in water?’

Chapter 16 : ‘Only the things I didn’t do crackle after the blazing dies’

Chapter 17 : ‘Dear pine cone, let me hold you as you open’

Chapter 18 : ‘What the devil do I care what I know, and what I say?’

Chapter 19: ‘I knew winter cold like the nuzzle of fjords at my thighs’

Chapter 20 : 'My heart has made its mind up and I’m afraid it’s you'

Chapter 21: ‘I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you directly without problems or pride: I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love’

Chapter 22 : ‘And if you missed a day, there was always the next, and if you missed a year, it didn’t matter, the hills weren’t going anywhere’

Chapter 23 : 'Even the dearest that I loved the best are strange – nay, rather, stranger than the rest'

Chapter 24: ‘Sometimes, when I’m pleased, I let out a little sound. A poet noticed this and it made me feel I might one day properly be loved. Because no one is here to love me, I make tea for myself and leave the radio playing’

Chapter 25: ‘They will think of ways to make you smile so you can be happy for a while’

Chapter 26: ‘Well, how else are you to live except by denial’

Chapter 27: ‘They loved music and swam in for a singer, who might stand at the end of summer’

Chapter 28: ‘You are neither here nor there, a hurry through which known and strange things pass as big soft buffetings come at the car sideways and catch the heart off guard and blow it open’

Chapter 29: ‘My lover’s words were shooting stars which fell to earth as kisses on these lips’

Chapter 30: ‘You liked me well enough in black; I make you a gift of these objects’

Chapter 31 : ‘Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief’

Chapter 32 : ‘How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then’

Chapter 33 : ‘The scent already in the air’

Chapter 34 : ‘One morning the wind turns, and there is a thaw. And so I must still have hope.’

Chapter 35 : ‘Love comes quietly, finally’

Chapter 36: ‘So I imagine such love of the world—its fervency, its shining, its innocence and hunger to give of itself—I imagine this is how it began’

Chapter 37 : ‘I found the other half above the pillow where you lay’

Chapter 38: ‘They are elsewhere beyond the night way higher than day in the blinding brightness of their first love’

Chapter 39: ‘He grew so tender and I so grateful which maybe tells you something about how it was’

Chapter 40 : ‘Where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.’

Chapter 41 : ‘Just one candle burning on, shadows lurking everywhere: some one came, and kissed me there’

Chapter 42: ‘Love in such a way, as I… love… you.’

Chapter 43: ‘The whole world depends on your pure eyes and all my blood flows into their gaze’

Chapter 44 : ‘I go up to the stone wall for a friendly visit.’

Chapter 45 : ‘Nobody, but nobody can make it out here alone.’

Chapter 46 : ‘Both of us, of the love which makes us one.’

Chapter 47: ‘To whom I owe the leaping delight that quickens my senses in our wakingtime and the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime’

Chapter 48 : ‘It’s love almost too fierce to endure, the bee nuzzling like that into the blouse of the rose’

Chapter 49 : ‘I am the blossom pressed in a book, found again after two hundred years’

Chapter 50 : ‘And I’d wonder sometimes if I’d ever find you.’

Chapter 51 : ‘Here begins a new life’

Chapter 52 : ‘I love you. I’m glad I exist.’

[randomshyperson]

Saw your drabble list challenge thingie, here's my request, absolutely no pressure or whatsoever though.

Wanda + hugs + no. 24

Your writing makes me so giddy and warm, like a school girl kicking her legs while reading dork diaries.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: hugging with height difference | warnings: none.

The team had thrown a big party to celebrate your return.

Wanda was feeling a bit out of the loop. Of course, she was relieved and genuinely happy that you were back, safe, and with little more than a few scratches on your face. But the setting, a room full of Avengers and anyone else Tony Stark could get at such short notice, wasn't exactly her scene.

Besides, Wanda barely had time to see you. Your sudden arrival at the compound was as quick as your departure - Shield had a lot of questions about your last mission. And the brief wave and a whisper of "see you later" was the only greeting Wanda received.

She forced herself to go to the party - Out of consideration for you and also because the Black Widow had politely persuaded her to attend.

But going didn't mean participating, and Wanda spent most of the night hiding in the bar while you told people all about your adventures in space with Captain Danvers and the God of Thunder - the latter seemed quite happy to have the attention stolen since he could focus on his fiancée Jane, instead of fawning guests.

Wanda hadn't seen Carol since she arrived, and she wished you had been as quick as the captain in escaping the guests.

Her patience grew thin as the night went on. In fact, Wanda could have stopped pouting at any moment and gone to greet you (Natasha's words, not hers) but she ended up being overcome by introversion, and the pain in her feet from the heels she chose, so just before they cut your cake - a birthday lost due to your time out of the planet - she sneaked out.

She could talk to you tomorrow. Or any other day, when she no longer has that nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach every time she imagines herself under your attention, talking directly to you, or being alone in your presence.

The path to the room is lonely since that side of the compound is empty due to the party. She holds her heels in her right hand but almost drops them on the floor when the elevator at the other end of the hallway opens, and you stumble out, breathless as if you were running to catch up with it.

"Hey, Wanda!" Your face lights up with a mix of happiness and relief, having managed to find her, so close to her bedroom door. She shifted her weight between her feet, smiling awkwardly. You tried to seem less flustered. "I can't believe you ran away from my party."

Wanda only realized how much she missed having you torment her when you did it again. She felt a lump form in her throat, surprising herself with the sudden urge to cry. You sighed immediately, as affected to see her again as she was.

"Sorry." She murmurs hoarsely. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“I know.” You give her a small smile, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she notices your footsteps toward her. “I guess I’m the one who should apologize. For not coming to talk to you sooner.”

She shakes her head. “You seemed busy.”

“Busy for my best friend? Never.” You assure her, earning a tearful laugh from her. Wanda isn’t surprised when your hands find her cheeks, wiping away the tears she hadn’t even realized she’d let fall. It was the first thing you did for her so long ago, back in a cell in Sokovia when you first met her, and something you’ve done ever since whenever she thinks of Pietro. You frown, worried about her tears, and Wanda sniffs softly, trying to control her emotions. “Did I say something wrong?”

She brings her free hand to your left wrist, massaging your skin with her thumb, while your hands linger on her cheeks, caressing the damp skin. “It’s just… so good to see you again.” She confesses, smiling through her tears. "You took a while." 

"The longest months of my life, believe me." You comment, offering her a small smile. There's a quick exchange of glances between you. Wanda thinks she imagines your eyes falling to her lips before you sigh and look at her with such affection that she feels her heart swell. "Come here, Wands."

She doesn't need to be told twice. It's not the first time she's hugged you, but it's only the third. The first time, you carried her in your arms away from a fallen city, and Wanda let her arms wrap around your neck. She couldn't even tell if it could be considered a hug, but it meant the world to her. The second, the first real hug, was on impulse after long training sessions in the tower and you were on enough adrenaline to forget about your super strength. Wanda complained softly, and you never hugged her again after a series of apologies.

But tonight, you wrapped your arms around her. Gentle at first, then as tight as you could. Wanda let her heels slide to the floor, her hands moving up to your back. The height difference between her and a Kryptonian was considerable, but it only made everything more perfect. She didn’t think much, just buried her face against your chest, inhaling deeply and letting her body relax into your hold.

Your fingers wrapped around her hair, massaging her scalp and running through the strands as she felt the heat from her cheeks spread throughout her body. She could no longer tell if it was emanating from you or her.

"I really missed you, witchy." 

She nodded softly at your words, her heart racing in her chest. She realized at that moment that there was no way to put into words the feeling that your absence caused her. She sighed, tightening the hug a little. You seemed to understand exactly what she meant.

[bohemianblasphemy]

things sam winchester would do bc i said so✨

N/SFW

SFW

- sam would be the best boyfriend. he is just such a sweet man and he’s so big n tall n cuddly HES SO BOYFRIEND. such a gentleman.

- remembers the small things about you - he knows your coffee order by heart and your favourite things. he will get something that relates to it to see that beautiful smile on your face - it makes him happy to see you happy.

- he says I love you first.

- gives the best hugs.

- mornings with sam are perfection. he gets up before you, wanting to cook a breakfast for the both of you. when you walk into the kitchen he’s at the stove cooking up, you wrap your arms around him and he smiles as his love embraces him.

- he’d be very protective of you. with his past experiences with jess he is scared of losing you and he will do anything in his power to keep you safe. it took him a while to pursue you due to his fear, but after dean convincing him to (bc he was getting sick of the pining between you two) he was all in, nothing could seperate you both.

- cuddles, cuddles and even more cuddles. yes he is a big spoon but you know what??? some days he wants to be held. he will put his head on your chest, letting his hands roam your torso and feel your warm skin against his fingers. bonus points for playing with his hair whilst he’s like that, he loves it and will make lil sighs and content noises.

-oh he is king of kissing. its just so gentle and sweet, he can never get enough of you. its cute as fuck when he kisses your forehead, cheeks, the tip of your nose and then pecks your lips. he’s also a fan of giving and receiving neck kisses.

a passionate man.

speaking of passionate…

NSFW

- he is a dom ( i mean did we not see the scene with Ruby???). he definitely uses his height to his advantage - knowing that it gets you hot and bothered seeing his lust filled eyes looking down at you, teasing you ever so slightly with his long fingers.

- he can be very rough and passionate, but he also makes love like there’s no tomorrow. one minute he can be absolutely pounding into you and smacking your ass, the next minute he will be gentle and soft- kissing all over you and praising the fuck outta you.

- praise kink. enough said.

- he l o v e s dirty talk.

“you’re such a good girl for me, i can’t get enough of you…”

“ fuck baby your mouth feels amazing, i need more…”

- you cannot convince me this man does not live to eat pussy. don’t get me wrong, he absolutely loves when receives oral but MAN he will not stop at anything to get a taste of you. (extra points for pulling his hair, he loves that too). he also leave hickeys behind on your inner thighs…

- he loves missionary. his need to look at you whilst he fucks you senseless - it makes him hard. he needs you to looks at him, watching you come undone makes him cum harder inside you. he is also a fan of you on top, adores seeing your tits bounce whilst you ride his cock. (defs a boob man)

- aftercare is so important to him. he will sing sweet praises to you, meets any needs that you may wish for and follows through.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

i hope you enjoyed!!! please do send in requests if you would like!!! ✨✨

[ju-nebugg]

moments from trb that make me lose my mind (pt. 2)

- “once your balls drop, that beard’ll come in great. like a fucking rug. you eat soup, it’ll filter out the potatoes. terrier style. do you have hair on your legs? i’ve never noticed.” ronan lynch i love you so much

- ronan panicking and letting the mask slip when gansey was staring down that wasp

- ronan being jealous that gansey was leaving henrietta with adam and saying “do you not want me to come” and gansey responding with “i would take all of you anywhere with me”

- “the sky as blue as death above him” like WHAT

- “i didn’t realize that ‘midget’ was the adam parrish type” ronan your yearning is showing

- gansey’s smile being “complicated” when he notices adam and blue holding hands

- “…blue’s dress had gotten hitched up and gansey could see a long, slender triangle of her thigh. adam’s hand was braced a few inches away on the seat, knuckles pale with his hatred of flying. there was nothing particularly intimate about the way they sat, but something about the scene made gansey feel strange, like he’d heard an unpleasant statement and later forgotten everything about the words but the way they had made him feel.” (long quote i know but holy fucking shit)

- obligatory “i’m always straight.” “oh, man, that’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told.”

- gansey doing his little indie film main character scream to god in a field

- gansey pointing at people. so much pointing. what a dork. i love him so much

- also his vocabulary. what a NERD <333333

- ronan pissing all over the state of virginia

- gansey calling blue “the table everyone wants at starbucks”

- “i just fed chainsaw but she’ll need it again.” “this,” gansey replied, “is precisely why i didn’t want to have a baby with you.”

- adam’s immediate thought when holding blue’s hand is to worry about crushing her fingers :(

- ronan forgetting to be “cool or surly” when translating cabeswater’s latin, and apologizing over and over again good lord and gansey only responding with “it’s okay, you’re doing really well”

- the whole “coincidence because it wasn’t” trend

- gansey being SO NERVOUS to ask blue to hang out at the church, and then sounding “fourteen shades brighter” when she accepts

- gansey’s arms being super fucking ripped from rowing and blue Noticing

- “aquamarine is a wonderful color, and i won’t be made to feel bad for wearing it”

- “gansey’s voice, when he replied, was a little rough. ‘well, if you killed adam, i’d be quite upset.’”

- “on the inside, he sort of wished he looked more like the camaro. which was to say, more like adam.”

- gansey planning out his “cunning thing to say to blue when he saw her next”

- ronan walking in on adam and blue flirting and immediately shoving chainsaw in their faces. hm.

- “no matter how hard he tried, he kept becoming a gansey”

- “out of the blue?” “i’d prefer if you didn’t use that expression.”

- BUTTERNUT

- blue being reluctantly attracted to gansey’s glasses

- ronan trying so hard to give adam an excuse not to go home, and then going absolutely apeshit when adam gets hurt

- neeve’s voice sounding like a “computerized voicemail menu” (can you tell i’m in love with maggie’s descriptors)

- “gansey was just a guy with a lot of stuff and a hole inside him that chewed away more of his heart every year.” oh god

- ronan carrying all of adam’s possessions into monmouth on his back

- gansey saying things like “excelsior” and “yee haw” for no one but himself

- gansey being miserable and blue liking him better that way

- ‘“crushed and broken,” gansey said. “just the way women like ‘em.”’ correct!

- “cabeswater was just as literal as ronan was” HMMMMMMMMM CURIOUS

- ronan writing “remembered” on the red mustang and walking away without a word shut UPPPPPP

- ganseys first question after adam sacrifices himself being “was i so awful?”

- “they didn’t even have the authority to choose an alcoholic beverage. they couldn’t be deciding who deserved to live or die.”

(pt. 1)

as soon as i can stumble my way to a bookstore, dream thieves will be annotated to hell and back. expect more yelling very soon <3

[readwritealldayallnight]

Right With You (Part 3)

Captain John Price x Reader

wc: 6.7k words

(18+ MDNI) warnings/tags: fluff, mutual pining, tension, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, no protection (use protection kids!!), finishing inside🫣

You might have bitten off more than you could chew this time.

The sound of your heels clicking and clacking against the marble floor are completely drowned out by the din of the many hundreds of party goers mingling throughout the lavish ballroom, glasses clinking together in cheers, uproarious laughter bellowing out between songs being played by the live musicians. The outskirts of the room are difficult to maneuver without bumping into one another, as the centre of the space has been cleared for dancing.

You’ve been inside the target’s home for all of five minutes and you’re already feeling like you’re way in over your head. You know that amongst the elegantly dressed men and women, there are people here on your side, posing as guests but keeping an eye out for your safety. They’re connected to the comms, as are the approaching men of the 141, intent on finding their own way in as well.

You should really only be using your earpiece if you have no other choice, the whole point of this operation being to go as undetected as possible. If a scene can avoid being made altogether, all the better. You know better than anyone that if John the men hear you sounding anything other than confident over the line, they’ll be barging in, stealth be damned. Right now however, you’re almost wishing you could use it if only to get some help in spotting your target amongst all the moving faces.

Before either of you had even had the mansion in sight, John was directed to pull the car into the long queue of vehicles slowly making their way in the direction of the actual driveway. He’d sent you a glance in the rear view mirror, his eyes betraying the gears that were already beginning to turn in his mind. There might be more people in attendance tonight than expected.

“You’re trying to tell me all these people are also fashionably late?” You’d question, eyeing the long line of fancy cars in front of you, another one having already pulled in behind you. You were purposefully showing up several hours after the party began, the more guests there were there the easier you could blend in. And the later the party, the more intoxicated and distracted party goes would be. But this seemed like a lot of people to still be showing up considering the increasingly late hour.

“I think there might be a guest list we don’ know about.” He had gritted out, gripping the steering wheel with more force. “Or they’re lettin’ any fuckin’ muppet walk in-”

“John,” you’d cut him off. “It’s fine, this doesn’t change anything. Might just take me longer to spot him, but we’ll manage.”

“Gonna be harder for ‘em to keep sights on ya.”

“Well then when I need help I’ll be sure to wave a hand up in the air so they can see me.” You had attempted to joke, but you’d spotted the near imperceptible narrowing of his eyes in your direction. “John, they are there as a precaution. I won’t even need ‘em, you’ll see. What? Unless you don’t believe that I can seduce a man?”

Though he had only been moving at a snails pace with the cars still ahead of him, the mansion only then coming into view around the bend, John slammed on the breaks, lurching you forward ever so slightly at the sudden stop.

“Seducing is not your job tonight.” His knuckles had gone white he gripped the steering wheel so tight before he’d released his death grip, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. “You are a soldier, that’s the only job you’ll do tonight.”

“My superiors have asked me to sneak into a party, discreetly convince a man to follow me to a room alone together, and gave me this to wear as gear.” You emphasized, waving a hand down at your attire. He didn’t want to take the bait, but while you’re in that dress and close enough he can smell the sweet smell of your perfume, he’s a weaker man then he’d like to admit. He glanced down at your figure, admiring not of the first time tonight how utterly ravishing you appear.

You weren’t trying to complain, you yourself had agreed that the plan made sense, but you also wanted him to be realistic here. The expectation was that you were going to get the target alone, as subtly as possible, whatever means necessary. At the very least you were going to be flirting and flattering your ass off tonight.

Undoing your seatbelt, you’d sat on the edge of your seat, inching closer to John in the driver’s spot, leaning in until your painted lips were mere millimeters from his ear, a soft hand landing on his shoulder.

“Orders are orders, after all.” Your lips barely grazed the shell of his ear as you whispered to him, trying to disperse his worries with your teasing. “I would never want to disobey my Captain.”

He’d let out a long, deep sigh through his flared nostrils, the internal conflict within him raging on. You were right, as odd as the circumstances of this mission were, it was nothing more than exactly that, another mission. They’d each been tasked with a job to do, and he knew that as with everything you set your mind to, you’d blow them all away.

As a Captain, he had full confidence in you as a soldier. But as nothing more than simply a man, who so rarely in his life allowed himself to be selfish and do something for no reason other than his own self centred wishes, a man who could no longer deny the way he was falling madly, deeply, irrevocably in love with a woman, well that man despised tonight’s plan.

The extravagant front entry of the target’s home was now within sight, multiple footmen waiting by to open the doors to arriving vehicles, welcoming guests and taking names. John knew you didn’t have much longer now before he’d have to let you go.

One of his hands snuck up to reach for yours, still laying as a delicately as a butterfly perched on his shoulder. His fingers gave yours a squeeze, thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your inner wrist.

While the thought of anyone other than him having the privilege of seeing you dressed up to the nines, getting to chat you up, putting his hands on you all under the guise of a respectable dance, got his blood boiling, he could never, would never ask you to go against your job.

Not for him, not for anyone. You were more than capable and had earned your position on this team. He wasn’t going to allow his rose tinted glasses to cloud his judgement, not even when the animalistic, testosterone raging, possessive side of him was pleading for the opposite.

“Well then your Captain’s orders, my dear,” he says in a low voice, stretching your hand far enough to plant a kiss onto it, unable to help himself really. “Are to knock ‘em dead. Not literally though, we do have questions for ‘im.”

You offered him a genuine smile, hearing the playfulness returning to his tone. Begrudgingly releasing your hand from his hold, John steered the car directly in front of the door, the heavy tint of the windows concealing him from any prying eyes.

“Sooner I’m in, sooner I’m out.” You reassured him. “Maybe I’ll have time to save you a dance.” You added at the end, catching his eye on final time, returning his nod subtle nod in the mirror just as your door was opened for you. As the footman offered you his hand, helping you out of the car and shutting the door behind you, John kept is gaze trained on you, not driving away until he saw you disappear through the doors, already counting down the seconds until he had you with him again.

A fake name given at the door, slightly modified version of the guest list having been slipped into the security’s grip earlier that evening, and you were allowed into the party without a second glance. Getting in was never going to be the challenging part of this operation. The challenge now was in spotting your target amongst the crowd.

Having decided the ballroom would likely be the best place to start, seeing as this was where the most people seemed to be gathering, you slowly strolled through the swarms of dresses and suits, wondering to yourself just how many of these people were involved in illegal affairs, and how many were feigning ignorance to their hosts choice of career.

Plucking a drink off the tray of a passing waiter, you brought the glass to your lips, taking the opportunity to more carefully glance through the many unknown faces. You manage to hide your grimace when a scratching noise comes through your earpiece for a moment, before a familiar Manchester accent crackles instead.

“Bravo 7 to Rookie. We’re in.” Ghost informs you. “Second floor. East wing. Guest room by the library.”

“We’ll cover the west side. Aim at taking the office on that end.” You’re less subtle at covering up the small gasp that slips from your mouth at the sound of John’s voice coming through the line. Clearing your throat, you take a small sip of whatever liquid you’ve grabbed, spotting another strolling waiter, sauntering over to her.

“Good, thank you.” You say, returning your still nearly full glass to her, speaking more in response to the men chatting in your ear than to the confused looking woman, who still smiles politely and takes the drink from you.

Knowing that the 141 are inside now, you go over the blueprints again in your mind, picturing where they are, taking a deep breath to steel yourself as you continue your search. Continuously bumping elbows with everyone gathered on the edges on the ballroom, yours and many others heads turn when a large group of gathered men all burst into uproarious laughter. Scanning the faces of the well-dressed guests, you nearly do a double take, eyes landing on the face you’ve spent countless hours memorizing.

Your target is stood there, one arm holding onto his friends shoulder as he continues to laugh in the way only rich men with no problems can. He and his friends are evidently intoxicated, each with a drink in hand, if not two. The man stood directly in front of him is telling the apparently hilarious story, hands waving about as he animatedly gestures, alcohol sloshing out of his glass.

An idea comes to mind, and you see your opportunity present itself before you on a golden platter. Slipping through the crowd, you come around the other side, so that you’re walking in your target’s direction, in his line of sight. You purposefully slow down your gait, running a hand through your hair carelessly, eyes gazing about the room absentmindedly, you even slightly push your chest out, catching the man’s eye just as you come close to walking past his friend.

The drunk man continues to flail his arms and spill his drink carelessly, larger and larger spills landing on the marble floor. It looks purely accidental to anyone watching when you attempt to walk by him, his arm knocking you off balance, and your heeled foot slipping on his spilled alcohol. Luckily, someone catches you before you fall to the ground, a few small gasps ringing out front the people around you who notice your fall.

“You alright ma’am?” You look up at the man who caught you, wearing what appears to be an embarrassed smile when in actually is your attempt to conceal your satisfied smirk, glancing up at none other than your target.

“Oh! Well, suppose I am better now.” You murmur with a small giggle tacked on at the end just for show. Based off the way this man’s eyes have yet to meet your face, gazing down only at your chest, you’re thinking this whole plan is about to be a lot easier than anyone anticipated.

“Sound like she’s made contact.” You hear Soap’s accent ring out through the earpiece.

Oh, right. They get to listen in on your interaction with the target thanks to the open comm line on your end. Good, in the sense that they’ll know which direction you’re headed in and will be ready, not so good, in the sense that John is about to overhear every word of your faux flirting.

“You’ll have to excuse my friend,” he finally breaks eye contact with your cleavage and pulls you up to stand, noticeably keeping his touch on you. “We were just cutting him off for the night, in fact, but are you sure you’re alright?”

He’s got one hand on your waist, the other is holding onto you elbow to steady you. You open your mouth to politely insist again that you’re okay, when he interrupts.

“Please, allow me to get you a drink. The very least I can do.” He implores, hardly waiting for your reply before he begins to lead you by the arm, in search of said refreshment.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before.” You say to him, batting your eyelashes at him when he offers you a glance.

“Trust me darling, I would remember meeting someone like you.” He doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he scans you up and down, ogling every bit of skin that your dress reveals, leaving you feeling exposed, though you hide any trace of discomfort behind a flirtatious facade.

“Someone like me?” You question coyly.

Your new friend walks you into an adjoining room where a bartender is mixing drinks for the dozens of people milling about the space. Sliding up to the edge of the bar, he leans against the bar top and signals to the man working.

“Certainly you must know how, appetizing you look this evening.” Your face does not betray the way his words make you groan internally, fighting not to roll your eyes. The bartender approaches, and as your target is distracted for a moment, you glance at the new space, spotting a staircase leading to the second floor not far around the corner. With how easy everything has been thus far, you wonder if you’re pushing your luck by trying to expedite the process even further.

As the target turns his attention back to you, beginning to introduce himself, you bring a hand to your forehead, interrupting him.

“I’m sorry, I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy actually.” You say, shaking your head when he sets the drinks down and goes to pull out a bar stool for you. “You wouldn’t know of anywhere you could help me sit down, would you?” You slowly reach a hand out, to stroke his hand. “Somewhere you could help me lay down, maybe?”

You watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly, eyes widening slightly in surprise at your suggestion, before quickly turning to excitement.

“Lucky for you ma’am, I’m good friends with our host tonight.” He snakes an arm around your waist, drinks long forgotten, and you’re relieved when you see he’s leading you towards the very staircase you were hoping he would take. “I know just the place.”

“Are we allowed to go upstairs?” You giggle obnoxiously, letting your men know that you and the target are on the move.

“Copy. Target’s headed for second level.” Ghost acknowledges over the line. As you come to the top of the staircase, blueprints sprawling through your head to picture where your teammates are currently placed, you realize that against your better odds, he doesn’t try to lead you towards either the east or west wing.

“Like I said princess, you’re in good hands.” Instead of leading you towards the 141, your prince charming is supposedly headed towards the washroom at the top of the landing, exactly in the middle ground where your team could not go, due to the handful of security guards patrolling the hallways. You’ve no doubt that in each of the rooms that the men were waiting for you in, there likely lay a few injured guards that had been tasked with watching those unfortunate quarters.

You knew your luck was going to run out eventually, but now you had to think fast and on your feet. Sliding out of the man’s grasp, you took a step away from him, tracing a finger along the bannister in a way you hoped came across as seductive.

“I don’t know. I feel like maybe I’ve been a bit too easy on you.” You wink for added emphasis that you’re trying to toy with him now. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Nor do I know yours.” He tried to challenge, raising a brow at your behaviour, though still slowly stalking towards you, not yet willing to let you go. “We do not need names to be friends, do we?”

“How do I know what kind of man you are, hm?” You question him, continuing your slow walk backwards, eyes scanning the room and you realize you’re slinking towards the west wing. Price and Gaz. They said they would be in the office in the west wing. You just have to get him there.

“I did help you just now, did I not? I believe I am a good man. Let me show you how good I can be.”

“And if I wasn’t looking for a good man? What then, hm?” He halts momentarily in his steps as he continues to follow you in what he believes is a game of playful banter, foreplay if he’s lucky. You’ve spotted a total of three guards so far, though none of them are very near this moment. Making up your mind, you steady yourself as you say, “What if I wanted someone who would chase me?”

Still keeping him in sight, you quicken your pace, hoping that he really will gave chase to you, allowing you to lead him like a fly to a trap.

“Whatever the lady wants.” He humours you, following you when you break into a sprint without hesitation, hoping your memory is doing you justice and the door you’re headed towards is indeed the one concealing one half of the 141. The sound of both your pairs of footsteps echoing down the corridor, you’re gripping the door handle the moment it’s within reach, turning to glance over your shoulder, seeing your target is only a few paces behind you.

You shove the door open with your shoulder, and just as you’d planned in all those briefings, you enter the room, grip never leaving the door, allowing the target to follow you in, and shut the door behind you, revealing the two large men who’d been hiding behind it, now with guns trained on the man before them. Before he even realizes what’s happening, Price has got him knocked out cold, hitting him with the blunt end of his weapon, letting his body crumple to the ground where he falls unconscious on the spot.

You’re thinking up a clever response to say about how easy this mission has been, before either of them can beat you to it, when your earpieces all buzz apiece.

“Alpha 5 to Bravo 6. Over.”

“Go for Bravo.” Price replies, pressing his finger to his ear, stepping over the unconscious target to come closer to you. Gaz has crouched down, examining the target, preparing to restrain him for transport back to base.

“Guards saw a woman get chased by a man on the second floor. They’ve sent someone to check it out, you’ve got one headed your way now. Less than 30 seconds.”

At those words, the three of you are glancing at each other, before Price is already acting.

“Garrick, help me get his jacket off then get him out of sight.” He orders his sergeant, who without question begins assisting the captain in removing the target’s suit jacket, before dragging the unconscious man towards the window they had apparently entered from. To your utter bewilderment, Price’s fingers then begin working speedily at his own tactical vest, pulling it over his head and off of himself, tossing it in Gaz’s direction.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, half wondering if he’s forgotten you can’t actually read his mind. He’s continuing to pull weapons off of himself until there’s nothing left, leaving them with Gaz.

“Guards saw two people walk in here, then two people will walk out.” He says, slipping the man’s jacket on over his shoulders. Price’s shoulders are without a doubt wider and bulkier, the sit being too small, but it’s not so bad that he looks outright odd. “Trust me here, love.” He asks of you, receiving a nod from your part instantly.

All in the blink of an eye, Gaz has tossed the equipment out the open window, and is carrying the unconscious target over his shoulder as he slips out that same window and vanishes out of sight. The door to the room is being tossed open, and John is grabbing you with a force you haven’t personally felt from him before. One of his large hands is in your hair, the other is grabbing the fat of your ass, and he pulls you flush against his own body, sealing his warm lips to yours in a kiss so passionate, so needy, it knocks the breath out of you.

“Oy!” The guard shouts at you two. “Fuck are you twos doing up here?”

“Sorry ‘bout that, mate.” John breaks the kiss, before he answers apologetically, holding a single hand up in peace, the other keeping its tight grip on your behind. “The missus got a little eager. We’ll get going, don’t mean to be any trouble.”

Playing the part of a couple nearly caught in the act, John takes ahold of your hand and keeps his head ducked as he quickly leads you towards the door. You squeak out your own bashful ‘Sorry!’ as you step past the man, following along with John in your feigned shame at being caught. Your mind was absolutely reeling with all the adrenaline of the last five minutes coursing through your veins, your captain holding you against his muscled body being at the top of your list.

“Now hold on just a minute-” the guard tries to shout after you both, taking notice of John’s unusual appearance compared to the other well dressed men walking about, but the pair of you are hurriedly making your way towards your escape.

“Stay with me now.” Price gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as he keeps a steady pace down the hall, headed for the staircase, intent on making a swift exit.

“Bravo 6 to Bravo 7. Slight change o’ plans. Garrick’s got our target. Help ‘em get to the rendezvous point and Rookie and I’ll meet you there.” John hurriedly mumbles under his breath, placing a steadying hand on the small of your back as you begin to descend the steps.

“Copy. Out here.” The Lieutenant replies diligently.

“Nicely done, Rookie. Think that’s record time.” You hear Soap’s playful tone come through the earpiece.

“We’re not clear yet, Sergeant. Stay alert.” Price tells him as you both land back on the bottom step. With the guards now on higher alert, one likely still hot on your heels, you need to blend back in with the crowd before sneaking your way towards the first convenient exit, still keen on avoiding drawing any further attention to yourselves. With all the confidence in the world, your captains steady hand leads you back through the bar and into the still crowded ballroom, musicians instruments playing with an much enthusiasm as they had before.

John’s keen eyes spot the handful of security patrolling the room with their gazes scanning the crowd. Turning to face you now, John brings your clasped hands up higher, placing your free hand on his shoulder before landing his own palm on the small of your waist.

“John, what are we-” Your words are cut off as you recognize he’s placed you both in the familiar position for a waltz, your eyes looking up into his own with questions unspoken.

“Follow my lead.” He whispers to you so softly that you nearly miss it with the sound of the music picking back up. You don’t even need to answer him before your body is instinctually doing just that, following his lead as he begins to softly move to the beat of the song.

Your eyes never break apart from one another, gazes locked in their own private choreographed moment as the captain smoothly dances with you from one end of the room to the other, going unnoticed amongst the swarms of other dancing couples. His hold on you is searing hot, sending sparks shooting though every nerve receptor he touches. He’s feeling just as affected by you, his heart hammering in his chest so strongly he’s certain you must be able to feel it against your own sternum.

Spinning you close enough to the edge of the ballroom that the front entry is once again in sight, John needs only cast a glance to the door for you to understand his message, gripping your clasped hands tighter together. You offer him a small smile and nod in agreement, letting him know that yes, you’ll follow him anywhere.

“You should be sleeping. Sun’ll be up soon.”

You’re holding a steaming cup of tea in hand, one hand on your hip with a look on your face that says ‘Really?’ pointed at your captain who has yet to leave his office since you’d all returned from the mission hours ago. You slowly approach his desk, your feet eternally thankful for the comfort of your boots over the heels you’d ripped off. In the time since you’ve returned to base, the target’s been secured, you were all dismissed for the night as well as the following day, considering it already was the early morning hours of the next day. You’d combed your hair out of his hair sprayed style, wiped all traces of makeup off your face, intent on following your captain’s orders and making your way to bed.

“I won’t even bother telling you the same. Both know you wouldn’t listen.” You set the mug down on his desk for him, your hand lingering along the surface of the wooden top.

“Thank you.” He smiles gratefully up at you from his seat, genuinely appreciative of your thoughtful gesture at this late hour. “Though, think I’ve heard the lads arguin’ once or twice ‘bout how you’re the only one I do listen to.” John’s smile widens as he notices the faint blush creeping along the apples of your cheeks.

“Well,” you playfully rolls your eyes at his comment, coming to step nearer to the broad man, turning slowly to present him with the back of your dress.“Help me out of this thing would you? So I can actually get some sleep.”

The black of your dress is open down to the middle of your back, where a short zipper begins. You don’t need any help with it, you’d been able to put it on without issue before the mission. However as you stood in your room, preparing to take off the garment, you couldn’t erase the image in your mind of John’s eyes landing on your figure as he hungrily took in your appearance. You couldn’t forget the feeling of his wide hands holding you against him, pressing every inch of his muscled physique to yours, lips desperate to chase the taste of your mouth.

Your heated thoughts brought you to the small kitchenette in search of a glass of water to cool yourself down, however as your eyes landed on the kettle, and your thoughts continued to swarm your head, you’d begun heating up your Captain’s tea and walking in direction of his office before you’d been able to convince yourself it wasn’t a good idea.

Now, peering over your shoulder to see John’s face as he takes in the expanse of exposed skin displayed before him, his breath catching in his throat, grip tightening on his pen in hand, you’re certain this was an excellent idea.

Taking a deep steadying breath through his flared nostrils, John’s eyes meet yours, a playful mischief hidden behind his gaze as you recognize that he’s just as well aware you can undo your dress without his help, without his hands to assist you, but still taking the bait you offer him. Part of John’s chest had swelled up with pride when you’d led the target to him and Gaz earlier tonight, even knowing that the odds had been 50/50 depending which direction the target went towards. He’d only been more than happy to oblige when you, the cunning little spider, lead her fly into the trap of her web, and broke the bastard’s nose as if you’d served him up on a platter.

He feels almost similar now, a bug being led into your sticky trap, watching you dangle the enticing bait in front of him that could lead to his ultimate demise, his unavoidable detriment. Though from the look in his eyes, it seems more likely that John is the one intent on devouring you whole tonight. His throat bobs as he swallows, spinning his chair to face you better, hands twitching for a moment before he brings them to trace the edge of the fabric where your dress meets your bare skin.

Your own breath comes out as a soft gasp as the feeling of his digits teasing along your back, the warmth emanating from his touch a thousand times hotter than the blood pooling in your face. You can feel his hot breath fan across your skin, just as his fingers bring themselves to grip your zipper firmly. Achingly slow, dragging the process out as if to torture you, John inches the zipper down at a pace only a hardened military man could maintain when face to face with more and more of your bare body appearing before his eyes.

The both of you are now holding your breaths as he finally drags the last of the zipper open, his fingers now grazing the top of your ass. You hear him let out a deep sigh, before his hands are sliding along the smooth material of your dress, the chair creaking beneath him as he comes to stand behind you. His hands tease along your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his digits skim higher and higher up your back until he reaches your shoulders.

You can feel every inch of him pressed up against you from behind, his body emanating heat like a furnace. But more noticeably, you can feel his rock hard member through his slacks pressing up against the swell of your ass.

“You know how proud you made me today, hm?” He asks softly, before pressing a kiss to your temple. You feel hardly in control when your eyes flutter shut, leaning back to put your full weight against him, letting him embrace you like this. He brings his mouth lower to kiss your reddened cheek, your neck, behind your ear. “Had the muppet in the palm of your hand soon as he laid eyes on ya.” His warm breath is fanning across your skin, rolling your neck to the side to allow him better access.

“And who could fuckin’ blame him?” He nearly growls, slipping one of the thin straps of your dress off your shoulder, allowing it to fall down your arm, his palm now coming to land on your exposed, bare waist, fingers spreading wide as he takes in your softness. Your eyes open as you feel a finger stroking your cheek, tilting your face to meet his, his shining blue orbs, glazed over in obvious desire, asking what he dare not speak out loud. You nod all too eagerly, telling him everything he needs to know.

John’s hand is sliding away from your cheek, fingers dancing across your shoulders as he gently tugs at the final strap holding your dress up, the tension that has been building and heating between the two of you for far too long now coming to a head. As the fabric falls from your figure and pools at your feet, leaving you bare before your captain, wearing nothing more but the necklace he’d put on you only so many hours earlier. John wastes no time in pulling your lips to his, curious hands exploring the expanse of your skin as you practically melt into his touch.

His large hands are squeezing your waist, your hips, one hand is reaching to grab ahold of your breast, fingers teasing your sensitive nipple. He hears you try to hold back a small moan, and he thinks you’re the sweetest thing in the world. Believing that you can hold back any of your delicious sounds from him. In the blink of an eye, John is turning you around, clearing everything off his desk in quick swoop of his arm, before lifting you up by your thighs and seating you atop his desk.

“Now, gorgeous,” he says almost sternly, putting on a faux captain voice, though he’s certainly never sounded quite so lustful over comms before. “That’s the first and the last time that I ever want to hear you try and keep a single one of your pretty little noises from me. Understood?”

You’re nearly panting you’re breathing so hard, watching as John pulls his chair up and takes a seat in front of you, his hands coming to pull your legs further apart until his shoulders are between them your thighs, your face going beet red as his own head is merely inches from your bare, completely soaked folds. In reality, you had been dripping down your thighs since you’d walked into his office with nothing underneath your dress.

“Seeing as you did such a good job tonight however,” he adds, fingers massaging the soft skin beneath his touch. “and considering you never even gave the bastard a chance to ask you to dance,” his gaze locks with yours at that, his eyes communicating the sentiment behind his words. “Lettin’ your old captain steal a one from ya,” his mouth comes to plant a kiss on your thigh, then another, and another, working closer to your centre. “Suppose you deserve a reward.”

Your moan would be embarrassing if the feeling of his warm lips sucking your clit wasn’t so heavenly. He spreads you open, tongue working at your sensitive bud with a fervour only a starving man could match. He is starved for you, has been since he’s met you and now that he’s tasting you, he doesn’t know how he’s survived without it. He can’t decide which is sweeter, your taste or the noises you make, so responsive to his touch, as if you were an instrument he’d memorized the most beautiful melodies to.

As his tongue continues to work feverishly at your nub, one of his fingers comes to tease your throbbing hole. His digit slowly slips in until he reaches his knuckle, slipping back out, wasting no time before slipping in a second, earning a lustful gasp from above him. Your hands are threaded in his hair, trying not to rock against him, but quickly losing grip of your self control, as he brings you closer and closer to that peak.

His two fingers begin to curl inside you, searching for that soft, sweet spot that has you seeing stars when he reaches it with his long, skilled digits. Your thighs are beginning to shake, one of his hands coming to steady you, but never dropping his pace, as his tongue and fingers work in tandem to bring you to that crest.

“Come on sweetheart,” he mumbles into you, his voice barely reaching your ears over the sounds of your own pleasure. “Give it to me. I’ve got ya, cum for your captain. Give me a good one.” Before he’s reattaching his lips to your wet folds, attacking your clit with renewed vigour.

John clamps a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your scream as you cum all over his hand and mouth, soaking his beard with your arousal, his movements never slowing down until you’re pushing his head away from you, unable to take any more of the intense pleasure having you seeing stars. The both of you are panting now, as he slips his hand away from your mouth and around to the back of your neck, standing to his full height before you. He’s memorizing the look on your face at this moment, the glazed expression over your features, eyes gazing longingly into his as though you’re the only two people on this base, maybe the world. Fuck, how he wishes he could give you the world.

He brings his lips to yours, caught up in his undeniable feelings for you, going much, much further than simple attraction. Yet he’s having a hard time thinking very hard about that, or anything at the moment, when you’re kissing him back with the same intensity, one of your hands sneaking down his torso, reaching for the front of his trousers.

John can’t help the deep groan that comes up his throat at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him through the fabric of his pants. All too eagerly, he’s fumbling with the buckle of his belt, never letting your lips separate from his. Practically ripping the belt out of its place, he tosses it aside, feeling your deft fingers quickly pulling at his zipper, glancing up to meet his eyes when your fingers creep along the edge of his boxers underneath.

He gives you a single, confident nod, torn between rolling his head back in pleasure and keeping his eyes locked on your every expression as you tug down his trousers and underwear together, freeing his aching cock. His member springs to life, precum beading at his red, swollen tip.

“John…” you murmur as you size up his cock, excited and equally concerned about his impressive length.

“I know love,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll make it fit.”

You spread your thighs wider, arms coming to wrap around John’s shoulders as he lines his cock up with your entrance, already groaning at the feeling of his head touching your warm, wet folds. The both of you gasp as he slips his tip inside you, foreheads pressed together, as one of his hands tenderly holds the back of your head, fingers threaded through your locks while the other wraps around your back to squeeze your hip, holding you close to him.

Inch by inch, John rolls his hips forward and back, taking his sweet, sweet time in discovering the bliss that is being inside of you, wrapped around you, simply being with you, until he’s filled you up entirely to his base, hairs at the base of his groin coming to rub against your already sensitive clit, creating a delicious friction that you know will have you finishing quickly already.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he groans out, rolling his hips back, earning a pleased moan from your lips as he rocks forward again, filling you completely. “Gonna be the death of me.”

You haven’t a single functioning brain cell left to answer him, and he knows it, your continuously flowing arousal seeping down between where the two of you are joined, echoing sinful sounds throughout the small room. As if your moans wouldn’t be evidence enough as to what was happening in Captain Price’s office, should anyone walk by. Keeping a steady pace, the captain fucks you against his desk relentlessly, earning more and more of those very noises from your lips.

“Oh my god, John! Oh fuck! John!” Hearing you, John feels like he’s about to burst. He hasn’t cum in ages, and he’s been so hard for so long now, he doesn’t think he can hold back much longer. Not when he’s hearing you whimpering his name so sweetly, not when you feel as incredible as you do wrapped around him like this, squeezing him so tight. He’s pressing hot, open mouth kisses against your neck, your collarbone, any skin his lips can reach.

“Love,” John grits out through a clenched jaw, holding himself back as best he can as he continues to move with you, bodies rocking back and forth as if in their own choreographed dance. “Where can I- where do you want me to-”

“Inside!” You plead wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “Inside John, please! I’m- oh fuck!” You say as he delivers another deep thrust. “On the pill. I’m on the pill.”

John needs no further permission, his cock continuing to hit that sweet, sensitive spot inside of you, that has your eyes rolling back in please. Just as his fingers reach between your two bodies to press against you throbbing clit, you moan out his name, reaching your blissful peak for the second time tonight, all at your Captain’s doing. John groans out, feeling himself begin to burst, holding his hips against yours.

“Fuck!” He shoots thick, hot ropes of his spend deep into you, his member twitching inside. “I got you love.” He talks you through both your cresting orgasms, grinding impossibly further into you, never letting go of the tight hold he has around you. “I’m with you, love. Right with you.”

Later on, as he walks you back to your room, insisting he has to see you make it there safely even though it’s technically become so ‘late’ that some of the early risers are awake by now, John asks:

“You did have panties on under the dress durin’ the mission though, right?”

If you’ve made it to the end of my first ever completed series, then thank you for making it this far!

I felt very bleh about the ‘mission’ part of writing this but hopefully my first ever attempt at legitimate smut made up for it!

This is the end of this little three part series, but I’ve got some more Price fics lined up for sure

I know I said it in the initial disclaimer but seriously y’all, wrap it before you tap it, fan fiction is fiction, pregnancy and STDs are real, use protection! (But like me, read all the filthy, filthy fics your heart desires)

-M 🫶🏻

[repulsiveliquidation]

We Might As Well Try || Jessie Fleming

summary : you're pretty sure if you tried hard enough, Jessie could somehow put a baby in you. With scientific testing, of course.

warnings : smut. strap on's, fingering, cunnilingus. breeding kink.

“Jessie, look!” you whine, walking past some baby clothes. You turned to see Jessie smiling softly as you picked up the smallest pair of Air Force One’s you’d ever seen.

“Aren’t they the cutest thing?” you sigh, putting them back carefully.

“Not as cute as you, angel,” Jessie said under her breath which you heard, sending a deep blush up your cheeks in the middle of JD. Your fingers grazed all the tiny onesies and little jumpers in the baby section of the store, Jessie following behind you secretly taking a picture of all the pieces you liked.

“I want a baby so bad,” you sighed as you slipped into the passenger seat of her car. You were pouting, sadly putting your seatbelt on.

Jessie on the other hand felt like she was about to combust on the spot. Her heart was racing and her ears were ringing. She felt her hands get clammy and her mind struggling to focus on how to get you home safely without jumping you in the backseat of her car.

You were going on and on about your little nephew who was just about to turn 6 months old. Your sister had just gone back to work permanently and you were more than happy to babysit when she needed since you worked from home.

Every time Jessie came home after training and was met by a mess of toys in her living room and her favorite person playing with her favorite person’s favorite person (she took no offence to not holding the title herself, admitting she was jealous of a baby was “apparently childish,”) she felt her heart almost give out at the thought of the scene in front of her with a child of her own. A little girl that had your eyes or a little boy that had her smile was something she wished she could make happen ASAP.

Jessie sits in the driver’s seat, pondering deeply about how she was going to go about this. She didn’t want to scare you or make you feel uncomfortable. She wanted what she knew you wanted too but her shy nature was holding her back.

Her worrying came to a screeching halt when the next day she saw you holding your nephew in your arms so close. She physically felt her ovaries burst inside of her. She felt her heart erupt in pure affection for you. It was like she was high on drugs.

Later that night in bed, she turned over and gently took the book in your hands away from you. You were about to grumble at her when you looked at her face and saw that she was nervous. Uh oh. That’s not good.

“What is it, Jess?” you asked cautiously, turning over to get more comfortable under the sheets.

“Today, seeing you with Micah,” she pauses, biting her lip.

“Yeah?”

“Iwantababywithyoubutialsowanttoputitinyouandiknowthat’snotpossiblebutwhatharmisthereintrying?”

“You wanna try that again but slow?” you tell her sarcastically, with raised eyebrows.

“I want a baby with you, but I also want to put it in you and I know that’s not possible but what harm is there in trying?” Jessie said in one breath, panting by the end of it.

“Excuse me?”

“Wait, you don’t want kids?” Jessie exclaims, sitting up in bed suddenly. Her face changes and she starts to turn red from embarrassment.

“What, no! Of course I do! It’s just,” you pause, thinking about her ringing request in your head, “that last bit…I think it’s possible.”

It’s Jessie’s turn to raise her eyebrows and look at you like you’ve got three heads and a peanut for a brain.

“That’s not possible.”

“I think it is.”

“I don’t have a dick.”

“You’ve got a plastic dick. It’s in the name, Jessie.”

“Still not possible.”

“I just think people haven’t been trying hard enough.”

“You’re insane.”

“And I want a baby,” you tell Jessie, scooting closer to her, lips pressed right on her ear.

“I want your baby. One you put in me.”

Jessie Fleming was very sure that she had just passed away. Her heart stopped and her brain short-circuited the moment the words left your mouth. She felt her hands move on their own accord, grabbing your waist and pulling you on top of her.

You gasped, settling on top of her with just a nightgown on. Her hands caressed your hips. Her eyes focused on your breasts. Her mind was in the gutter and she could not give a fuck.

“Fuck, her child-bearing hips,” she thought, hands grasping them.

“Those full fucking breasts,” she moaned audibly, biting her bottom lip. You had an idea of her thoughts, grinding gently down on her middle. You were sure if she did have a dick that worked, it would be poking you. But the idea that she had hers on her bedside table, ready to go, for hours and hours on end was far more exciting. Plus it had a person on the other end who wanted to make you feel good and cared more about your pleasure than theirs.

Now that Jessie had her thoughts collected, she threw you off her and pinned you down, hands holding your wrists above your head. She kissed all along your nape and suckled long on your neck, which left your legs trembling and pussy throbbing.  

“I think we might as well try to put a baby in you, shall we? Could be important you know, for science or some shit.”

“…For science?”

“Yes. Now are we going to try or not?”

Jessie’s fingers slipped between your legs, cupping your core gently. She smiled, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. Three of her fingers slowly rubbed wide circles, lips kissing along your nape over the marks she was leaving.

“Do you want me to put a baby in you, sweetheart?”

A deep shiver goes straight down your spine. You’ve never been so turned on in your life, you have to hold yourself back from cumming right then and there.

“Yes, please.”

“Remembered your manners, such a good girl already.”

She gently slipped off the bed, eyes locked into yours. She smiled, rummaging in the bedside table for her harness. You watched eagerly as she slipped it on and pulled out your favorite toy. You grinned and played with your breasts softly, kneading them in your hands and feeling your nipples harden. They poked through your baby blue gown, sensitive as you flicked your finger over them through the fabric.

Jessie’s eyes darken as she looks at you. You bite your lip and turn over, pressing your ass high up. She groans and watches the fabric fall smoothly over your hips. Feeling her eyes on you, you wiggle your way out of your ruined panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.

Jessie’s hands pull your hips close to the edge of the bed, yanking your knees wide open and your pussy exposed. Two fingers slip straight into your wet hole, aimlessly jabbing themselves into you. Your whines muffle into the mattress, Jessie’s fingers curling down into your sweet spot with every alternate push of her fingers. Her tongue slips in to suckle at your clit, feeling it throb on the muscle.

“Is this the pussy I’m gonna fill with a baby, baby?” Jessie coos, caressing your ass softly. You whine, feeling her fingers fill you till the webbing. They feel full, knuckles dragging against the ridges inside you.

“Yes, p-put a baby in me please!”

“It would be my pleasure,” Jessie smirks, pulling her fingers out and slipping her cock straight into you. It’s thick and deep, filling you in ways her fingers could only dream of.   

Jessie threw her brown hair back and grinned, hips thrusting hard and fast into your pussy. There were squelching and slapping sounds that reverberated around the room, turning you both on immensely.

She doesn’t seem to slow down, hips pistoning into your core like there was no tomorrow. Jessie presses your chest down into the bed more, almost standing above you to thrust into your wet pussy. Her knuckles were almost white with how tight she held you in place, muscles rippling in all the right places.

You sputtered and took all that she gave you, head spinning with pleasure as your lover used you in the name of science. You reached back to hold her hand and felt your heart grow fonder when she took it.

She gently moved you onto your back while keeping her cock inside you, lips pressed softly against your nose.

“I love you,” she muttered, kissing you briefly.

“I love you too, Jess,” you tell her, cupping her cheek as you feel her hips begin to speed up again. In this position, she’s able to lift your hips just a tad to get the angle she needs to pound right into your sweet spot.

The spine-tingling squeal you let out at one particular thrust told her all she needed to know.

“There, babygirl?”

“Right fucking there, Jessie!”

You see white and feel your insides knot up before the wave of intense pleasure washes over you.

But Jessie doesn’t stop or slow down like she normally does.

You’re pretty sure she’s speeding up.

“Jessie!”

“Fuck babe,” she pants, thrusting wildly. She looks up at you and you’re sure you’ve never been more in love with her as her next words leave her lips.

“Want me to come in ya?”

Your brain short-circuits and you can almost feel the little people in there scrambling to fix the problem so you can answer her.

“Fuck yes!”  

Five more powerful thrusts and you feel Jessie trembling on top of you. She whines your name as she comes, legs turning to jelly and cock slipping out. She pushes herself off you and you crawl into her side, kissing her jaw softly.

“I think that worked, Jess.”

“We’ll send your mum the ultrasound so she can boast to her book club.”

[grapefives]

did it or not ?

hoshina + gen oneshots! (separately) x gn!reader

arranged marriaged au! + hurt/cormfort + injuries + denial of feelings + platoon leader reader! + enemies to lovers (?)

warnings; it’s gender neutral reader but… lowkey lenient to male readers, but obviously only if you think hard jajaj, that’s all, also, change of work format! not proof read.

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ hoshina soshiro

— he wanted NOTHING to do with you! not even as entertainment to see what could become of you both, NADA

— it’s not that he would argue with you or anything, but he’d speak a little harsher when it comes to you

— constantly asks why did he have to be married when both of you were in the defense force and could die any day

— at least he acknowledges your hard work

— mina actually likes you for him, so she always tells him he should show you affection, to which he gags at.

“ah, hoshina, don’t you think l/n looks good like that? sweaty, covered in monster fluids, look at how badass l/n looks, took down so many monsters…”

“what, are you saying you want l/n to take my spot as vice captain? since your praising l/n so much.” hoshina asks darkly while placing his hands on his hips.

mina shakes her head, expression neutral, “no, of course not, but maybe you should give l/n a nice reward-“

“ugh!” he groans, immediately walking away from her. he knows her expression wouldn’t show much, but he knew her true feelings. she was probably laughing in her head, mentally patting her back for ticking him off.

it didn’t help that you had defeated so many monsters, a few more than him. he eyes you as you flick some monster grub off of your shoulder, looking around to step aside, away from the scene. he hated going back “home” with you, you took the longest showers.

“good job today,” your voice snaps him out of his thoughts, like he said, you took long showers, so he sometimes zones out waiting for you to get out. “i wish i knew how to use blades,” you comment.

he stares at you, fresh out of the shower. your cheeks have a rosy color, definitely from the warm shower you had taken. your eyes weren’t on him, but with the way you said that, it felt like you were looking directly at him. you don’t talk much to him either.

“for a platoon leader your skills are too inadequate,” he bites before going to the restroom. “train more and you’ll be better suited.”

— honestly, you wish he’d at least make fun of you or something, not nag or insult your honed skills.

— you two lived more like strangers that shared a room, little talk yet always around

one day, you two had to face a group of honju. it wasn’t something either of you couldn’t manage, but for some reason, hoshina was having a bit of a hard time. especially with the way you kept missing your shots.

“the heck is wrong with you?” he ask as he slices the honju’s joints.

“the heck is wrong with you? you keep cutting off limbs and letting them fall on me! makes me miss my shots!” you argue as you hop off a wall.

“if we don’t take this one down we can’t help out with the other ones!”

“well if you weren’t all up on the honju then i would’ve shot it down already!”

mind you, you two were still honing your new, growing skills. hoshina was recently risen to vice captain and you as platoon leader.

“and i can’t slice it down because you keep shooting at the wrong areas!”

in the end, the honju got a good hit in you and him. minor injuries of course, but the next day you were sent off in a mission where plenty of platoon leaders were called to assist. hoshina was recently getting inside the house when you trudge up to him, looking absolutely worse than the day before from the honju.

your yored expression was one he’d never seen, mostly because he barely looks at you.

“woah there, did you age in the span of a day?” he finds himself joking.

yet you walk past him and go inside your home.

“nice talk.” he grumbles as he follows.

after your shower, you sit at the vanity, with a sleeveless shirt. there are fresh scrapes on your shoulders, your cheek is bruised and your hand are wrapped in bandages. he notices, because you hum softly as you put ointment on the scrapes.

“a mission?” he asks, surprising himself at his worry.

“broke my guns, had to use that blade.” you reply, closing the bottle.

“i told you to practice more close combat.”

“you didn’t say anything, you commented on my bad skills.”

“same difference.”

“if i die one day it’s your fault.”

he frowns, “how would it be my fault?”

and your eyes fell on him. and they gave him an answer he couldn’t hear. you’ll have pushed me so far away that you won’t make it in time when i need you.

— fighting beside you turns to be like fighting alongside mina. he carves a way and you hit, except only on those missions that aren’t nation threatening.

— at some point, he enjoys the teamwork.

— doesn’t show interest head on, he does it in silent ways. (like placing a cold water on your night stand. putting your books back in place when you’re too much in a rush to organize before leaving.)

— your determination for constant growth impresses him, he notices it when you beat him one day on slicing down a small kaiju

and just when he starts to appreciate you, something happens.

“hoshina,” your voice surprises him as he slices through the kaiju.

“l/n, what is it? kinda busy here-“

“VICE CAPTAIN HOSHINA! L/N HAS TAKEN A CRITICAL HIT!” okonogi’s voice goes through, “SHIELDS ARE DOWN!”

“uh,” you chuckle, “so are my vitals, have you said that?”

“what-?” he gasps as he dodges an attack, he’s in a tight spot right now.

“VICE CAPTAIN!” okonogi cries, “YOU MUST RELEASE MORE POWER! THAT KAIJU IS ADAPTING TO YOU!”

“yeah!” he hops off a rooftop and slices down the middle, causing a hit, but it’s bot enough yet. “someone back platoon leader! where is everyone?” he barks.

“we’re sending more reinforcements! the kaijus had overwhelmed our troops and many are severely injured! platoon leader l/n please hold out until back up comes!”

“we’re too shorthanded for backup!” hoshina argues. “i’ll finish this and head over!” he grunts as he attacks once more.

“so like, i’m bleeding out,” you say softly.

“PLATOON LEADER PLEASE STAY STILL! YOU DON’T HAVE STRENGTH LEFT!”

“how bad is it?” hoshina asks as he finally takes down the kaiju. he’s out of breath.

“VICE CAPTAIN HOSHINA HAS ELIMINATED THE KAIJU IN THE SECTOR!” okonogi shouts, “if anyone can go back up platoon leader, we’ll have victory soon!”

“just how bad is it?”

“the honju is a plant based type! it’s core keeps shifting!”

“and so are my organs, i wanna throw up,” you say.

“you idiot! hide! you can’t keep facing it! how far away am i okonogi!?”

“six minutes- PLATOON LEADER L/N YOUR SUIT IS OVERHEATING AGAIN! PLEASE STOP, YOU’VE ALREADY LOST TOO MUCH BLOOD!”

“I FOUND IT’S CORE!” you yell before going silent.

“VICE CAPTAIN PLEASE HURRY! PLATOON LEADER COULD DIE IF THEY DON’T PULL THIS OFF BEFORE YOU ARRIVE-“ okonogi gasps.

“okonogi? what is it? l/n?” he calls out as he dashed inside the building your squad had been.

the sight was ugly, many officers thrown about, blood and kaiju fluids everywhere.

“PLATOON LEADER L/N’S VITALS ARE DROPPING! PLEASE SOMEONE DO SOMETHING!”

“where is it?” he asks as he runs across, slicing the vines coming at him.

“uh, go to the control room far back, full of vines and living plants, literally they’ll attack you,” you slur into his ear. “hurry before i get digested.”

“WHAT!?” okonogi cries.

he sees red. no wonder your life force was dwindling. “YOU’RE SO RECKLESS!”

slice after slice, he makes it through and strikes the core. it’s disregarded by him as he searches for you. soon, he stands before you.

he stares at your body, laid there on the floor surrounded by kaiju fluids, in your own blood. you’re breaths are too shallow, too painful.

“you want something…” you say lightly between breaths, “to do with me now?”

“what are you talking about-“

“platoon leader please don’t use your energy! it keeps dwinDLING! MEDICS! MEDICS!” okonogi screeches.

“you… you never look at me… never accepted me,” you smile tiredly, looking at him through half lidded eyes.

the gash on your side is seeping blood. your suit had given up from over exertion.

“can you stop?” he’s kneeling over you, trying to lift you out of the puddle. “if you don’t come back home with me, then i don’t want to go home.”

you close your eyes, there’s commotion far away. medics maybe? “we live like strangers under a roof…”

hoshina grips you, “i’m… sorry,” he bows his head, pulling you close but still so gentle to your wounds. “please know that i am grateful for you… all these years, you’ve also pushed me to extend my potential…”

“platoon leader! vice captain!” a medic calls out as they bring a stretcher.

“well…” you give a shaky breath, eyes closing, “guess i was… bound to… be in your arms…”

“y/n-?”

“WE’RE LOSING THE PLATOON LEADER!” and everything become white noise to hoshina.

was he going to go home to an empty house? was he going to lose you, after finally accepting that you’re now a part of his life routine, a routine he doesn’t want to exclude? what’s this ache in his heart? he feels cold.

“-out of danger zone,” okonogi’s voice brings him back.

— seeing you frail was never something he expected to see

— you were always standing, as badly as you were always injured, you never showed signs of injury until you two got home or he found you at the hospital

hence, seeing you on the hospital bed wasn’t ever in his mind. you just woke up, smiling at him. your smile is wonderful, he felt like that warmth radiating from you finally brought him back to life. after days of feeling lost, cold and alone, he felt like he was back on track.

“what? wanna be in my arms?” you grin, joking.

and neither of you expected him to take up the offer.

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ gen narumi

— literally did NOT ACKNOWLEDGE YOU

— the audacity! you were so annoyed but you understood too, why would anyone want an arranged marriage?

— he’s cute, you loved looking at him even if he was just yelling at his screen when you were both on stand by

— he ARGUES. ALWAYS. just to get a rise out of you but you PISS HIM OFF when you don’t give him the reactions he wants.

“i want to sleep on the left side today.” he huffs, glaring down at your sleeping figure.

you had literally just managed to fall asleep after all his yelling and that bright ass tv. you glared at the wall, your back facing him as he looms over you.

“move,” he demands, shaking you with so much force you want to flip over and punch him.

yet, you close your eyes and roll over. literally rolling OVER him as you make your way to the right side, squishing him and making him yells and fight. still, you let that shove throw you off of him and settle on the right side. you fall back asleep, smiling at his grumpy remarks.

— as pay back he makes you go through brutal training. yet you always get back at him somehow back in the “comfort” of your shared room.

— you’re more serious about the things you have to accomplish outside of the battlefield, he’s not.

— he constantly berates you for your fighting style, just to piss you off

— at some point you lose confidence in yourself. had had been extremely harsh that day and the kaiju managed to make a good example of you. and gen had laughed at you for it.

“have you changed the bandages?” he asks, looming over you when you were trying to fall asleep.

you say nothing, ignoring his presence. yet, he cages you, practically on top of you with both arms to your sides as he glares down.

“y/n.”

your eyes snap open. that is the first time he’s ever called you by your name and it had to be your first name? his nerve!

“get off me,” you grunt.

“have you changed your-“ he’s easily thrown off of you by your action, he didn’t expect you to move.

“why do you care?” you growl.

he frowns, “i don’t want you messing up our bed sheets!”

you end up leaving the room, crashing somewhere else. he obviously didn’t chase after you, you aren’t that important to him. yet, he couldn’t sleep, remembering the way you left; angry, hurt. he had gotten used to you sleeping next to him, to you waking him up when the two of you had to assist morning duties.

he honestly felt like he couldn’t breathe well, until you came in the morning to change into your attire. he immediately sat up on the bed, staring at you as you move about. not a hello, not a “good morning captain, gotta wake up now” to be followed by his complaints. not even an acknowledgment, you got ready, freshened up and left. he didn’t like that.

— he lives for attention. for recognition. there should always be someone that gives it to him, yet that was the day he realized you don’t.

— it made him feel like he had to prove himself to you.

“lower the sound to the tv, it’s late,” you day dryly.

“i’m winning! listen to me win!”

you just turn over and go to sleep. when he shouts at his victory, his immediate response is to turn to you. yet, since you’re sleeping, you don’t acknowledge him.

he stomps over to you and forces you awake, sitting you up and practically trying to open your eyelids.

“NARUMI!”

“I WON AGAIN!” he roars, shaking you.

— honestly the relationship is more like child and guardian despite how old you two are.

— he has no plans for a family, said that loud and clear

— same way he tries to get a rise out of you, you do it to him when you catch him training late at night

“this is the third night in a row, captain,” you tease as he freezes mid air attack.

“THEY TOLD ME TO BE ON STAND BY IN CASE A KAIJU APPEARED!” he screeches.

“at one in the morning?”

“HOW ABOUT YOU POLISH THOSE HORRIBLE SKILLS OF YOURS!?”

you laugh, setting down a cold water bottle on the floor. “don’t over do it, or else they’ll notice you’re doing this again.”

“SHUT UP! I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING!”

— you’re literally always tidying up behind him. he never tidies up.

“l/n, where are my clothes?” he argues one morning.

“have you washed them?” you ask, annoyed.

he pauses. ever since you two married, he’s never really lifted a finger. well, even when he lived alone, the defense force would sometimes always send someone in to clean up. he’s tidy up once a month but it wasn’t often. now that he thinks hard, as he stares at you in the kitchen, it’s always been you doing almost everything.

“why haven’t you washed them-“

“gen narumi i will throw this knife at you, how about you prove you’re good at surviving in your own home the way you survive out in the battlefield?” you bark as you turn back to face him.

you never snap at him like that, it’s always a silent glare or a petty action. never verbal.

fine, he’ll prove he’s good without you.

— he’s never felt like he’s had a place to belong, no matter how much he proved himself worthy

— captain isao was a clear example of his first time feeling a sense of accomplished belonging

and now, coming home to an empty cleaned out house, he wonders why he feels out of place. it freaks him out, it’s been years since he felt like this. he’s proven himself more than capable of being the best at defending the nation from threats… yet.. why hasn’t he done the same to keep a home.

you didn’t give a divorce, simply asked to be elsewhere for a while, off on a mission that even you don’t know how long will last. yet, coming home to this isn’t… normal… anymore. time and time again, he was rejected from homes and hoped orphanages, that desire to have a home long gone after years or not being enough no matter how much he proved himself.

and now, he’s alone in these four walls again. where you had tried to make a home out of. where he, unknowingly, didn’t even have to prove himself worthy of having. of belonging.

“captain gen! how can we help you?”

“i wanna see how platoon leader l/n’s mission is going.” he says dryly.

everyone in the room turns to him, like he lost his mind.

“uh, i-if you don’t mind captain, why would that be?”

“i don’t have to explain anything to you!”

he doesn’t get to watch or hear how your mission is going. captain isao kicks him out, he put up a fight of course, but it was embarrassing to even try to come up with a valid reason. he doesn’t like you, always in his business, in his commodity, in every mission, every training. always cleaning ip after him, always telling him to go to bed early, always telling him to file out reports- always breathing down his neck!

you’re weak. strong enough to be platoon leader but still so weak! always coming home hurt. always needing medicine. always taking breaks during training.

yet, when he finally gets to see you in action again, after weeks of being denied your whereabouts, he finds himself seeing you. actually seeing you in action. you’re different here than in training, than when you had last fought beside him. yet, you could do better. he knows that, so he grows frustrated when he sees you take a hit and miss the perfect opportunity to subjugate the kaiju.

going against the rules, like always, he does it for you. you’re eyes are wide as you see him do just what you were trying to do. so easily. they superiors are barking in your in ears. they’re doing the same in gen’s. yet, you couldn’t hear them, only your anger and your frustration, you’re insecurity eating at you again.

“was i ever, even for one second, enough for you?” you yell, stomping over towards him.

“you had a chance and you didn’t take it!” he barks.

“GEN NARUMI! YOU WILL BE SUSPENDED!” captain isao roars in the in ear.

“FOR WHAT!?

“for always making everything about yourself!” you jab your gun at him, shoving him a step back. “where’s your teamwork? why do you keep making me feel like i don’t belong here!”

he stares at you, wide eyed.

he… he made you feel like you don’t belong? you, l/n y/n who always did better throughout every mission. you, who always messed with him when he didn’t get along with you. you, who was always levelheaded even to nag at him.

“only-“

“only the strong survive here! i know!” you seethe, “if you want me out so bad just tell me! don’t insult my skills! my efforts!”

“hey, i’m your captain-“ his argument is weak in his ears too.

hence, he feels, for the first time, like he actually is in the wrong when you growl and walk past him. you stomp off, fuming. are you about to leave the defense force? give him the divorce?

“just so you know-“ he yells, making sure no one else is listening in. “you’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”

you stop in your tracks.

“i’m prideful, i don’t play nice,” he chokes out, “but… don’t leave me.”

you turn around, anger long gone. but you’re still distraught. you’re just dissatisfied. “gen… not now.”

and he watches you leave.

— screw all his kaiju missions. he has to win you back, because just now he’s realizing he had you.

“gen, what are you doing.”

“i need money.” he says as he kneels before you when you finally return home.

you nudge his head with your boot, “get up. how embarrassing, you sure you’re my captain?”

“HEY! RESPECT ME-!”

you walk past him, leaving him alone. he huffs, watching you set your belongings back.

“don’t move those boxes!”

“you ordered a bunch of stuff from yamazon for what!?”

“it’s stuff we could need!” he argues.

you sigh and turn around, “like what, gen?”

“uh,” he scratches his head, then gives you an accusatory look, “i don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“uh, yes you do! have you forgotten we’re married!?”

he looks away, unable to form an argument. it’s a surprise, normally he’s quick to fire back at you, but he seems so at bay. it’s…

“disgusting,” you grimace, “what’s wrong with you? aren’t you used to being suspended? what’s with this change?” you look around, “hey, it’s even clean in here, despite all these boxes.”

“yeah so what?” he huffs, crossing his arms. “i’m way better at cleaning than you are, i just don’t like doing slave work often.”

“slave-“

“plus, we’re married,” he puckers his lips as he looks away from you, “aren’t chores like,, shared or something?”

you stare at him wide eyed. is he… for real? he glances at you and you’re heart skips a beat at the blush that crawls on his face. he’s for real. ah, what a darn cute knuckle head.

“this is only going to last a day isn’t it,” you chuckle to yourself.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

Can I just have a small bit of headcanons or a Drabble on your pick of multi Gotham boys and their hands? Like I dunno if this is weird or not but kinda like just a dive down on what their hands feel like, who’s are soft and who’s are rough, who has vein hands, who has calloused hands. Just that kind of stuff please?🙏🤭🥺 (reason being of a specific hand edit I saw on tiktok 💀, also don’t feel obligated to do this if you don’t wanna. I completely understand.)

'FLESH, [hand! hcs]

-GOTHAM!VILLAINS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Zsasz, Jonathan Crane

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; gotham villains and how they use their hands on reader ;)

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!villains x female reader. Not pure porn but smut. Suggestive. Might be the most vanilla thing i've written? but I love this request so much and I AM A SLUT for these men. Canon typical violence for Victor, Oswald getting a little rough ;)

𝛰𝑆𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐷 𝐶𝛰𝐵𝐵𝐿𝐸𝑃𝛰𝑇

♫ “This is just my way of unleashing the feelings deep inside of me.” Flesh by Simon Curtis

I know what you're thinking.

Oswald's hands? Out of every Gotham man I could've chosen???

YES. YES OSWALD'S HANDS. Have you seen this mans HANDS? Whether they are on a knife, or in those red gloves, or if he's leaning forward on them? All predatory like...

Not to mention...the VEINS. In almost every scene I've seen of this man? His hands are VEINY. Skinny bird man is not living up to that penguin stereotype, especially not in the earlier seasons.

God- just the way he stirs the wine glass or glass of brandy. Yeah. He's thinking and wishing it was your thighs he was holding, staring into the golden swirls.

The man has some issues with being nervous during sex, but when he lets loose he lets LOOSE. And he becomes feral, desperate, grinding and PAWING for every part of you he can kiss and hold and worship.

C'mon. We see the way he grips that cane of his. The way he holds the custom made knife. The way he gets his knuckles all bloody from hitting Fish or doing his own dirty work in season 1.

Also...going back to those red gloves of his. Could you imagine? Him making you grind yourself into the palm of his hand, watching you, mesmerized at the feeling of skin on leather.

He just wants to watch you writhe from pleasure. His little true love all needy for him and his hands. Gah.

He's so flustered, by the way, if you tell him you like his hands. He's sputtering, and asking why, but that little cheeky (and villainous mastermind) part of him is making a note to use them even more.

"You-," He says with a bit of an unbelieving smile, brows furrowed, voice wavering before his face turns to a look of complete shock, "You want me to what?"

Don't get him wrong, he's listening intently to your wishes, he just looks like he's seen a ghost at your vulgarity. He's not used to being wanted.

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝑍𝑆𝐴𝑆𝑍

♫ “You can dominate the game 'cause I'm tough / This spark of black that I seem to love.” Flesh by Simon Curtis

This man might have the most iconic hands out of EVERYONE on this list.

I mean, c'mon now. When you think of leather-clad knuckle-less gloves, who do you think of?

The man, the myth, the legend himself. Victor Zsasz has the hands of a working man and he likes to use them.

These are the same hands he carries his guns in, the same trigger finger that will pump inside you while you mewl around him.

In all seriousness, though, he LOVES his hands too. They are his favorite part of his body. Without his hands, what would he be able to do? He's skilled with them. Pleasuring you with them is no different.

They are slightly calloused from the sharp edges of the guns he holds, but he's learned to use his gloves to protect them. Regardless, the old scars and marks from when he was just a boy playing with a tec-9 still remain.

Also, he canonically wears rings when we first see him in the show. Yeah, he's using that to his advantage.

You'll feel the cold metal as he drags a finger along your spine, watching you shiver. He'll do that lazy side-smirk, breathing heavily as he watches you arch up into him just from a touch.

Don't tell him you love his hands. Please, for the sake of the zsaszettes having to suffer a total EGO trip. He's taking it in stride.

But if you do happen to mention it...he's bragging about it.

Every time he gets complimented on a nice shot, he's bring you up.

I can imagine him holding someone hostage, whether its Jim or someone else. He notices them staring at the gun in his hand, full of fear, and he'll look flattered.

"Oh? Are you staring at my hands? Sorry, I'm taken." He's mentioning, off-hand, to the rando he's kidnapped. It doesn't matter if the hostage is a full on 50 year old man. "My girlfriend says she loves my hands. Y'know, life's work, and all that."

𝐽𝛰𝑁𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑁 𝐶𝑅𝐴𝑁𝐸

♫ “This is not the way into my heart, into my head. / Into my brain, into none of the above.” Flesh by Simon Curtis

Okay, maybe i’m just a monster fucker, but HEAR ME OUT!!

Uncut nails behind those talons of his on his costume. On or off.

Sometimes, he’ll be fully clothed, drawing scratch-marks into your skin, lowly humming in pleasure. That little spark of fear in your eyes when he draaaaaags down just right makes him go crazy.

He can’t help it. You’re his armeggedon, his muse, his savior all in one. The remedy to his madness…and you get all worked up from just a touch. It strokes his ego, like Victor, but he’s quieter about it.

Dirt beneath his fingernails, callouses and blisters from working with those damned poisons. He’s suffered a chemical burn or two, and you’ll see the small circle scars on his knuckles.

You’re like his personal test subject. He likes to study you- watch your expressions when he glides his nails down your skin, almost touching you- but not quite.

Surprisingly a tease when he finds out. He’s nonchalant. He won’t let you see the sheer arousal simmering beneath the surface.

But boy, it’s there. His heavy breathing. It affects him just as much as it effects you. The chill down your back, the shivers left in his wake. He takes his time edging playing with you.

You might need to ask him to cut them lowkey because they can be kinda painful when he’s fingering you. Or…if you’re into that little sting of pain while his tongue massages your clit through his mask.

He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s filthy.

“There you go, little mouse. You like it, don’t you?” He pauses, in thought, while you grind for friction like a cat in heat against his finger tips. “I wonder…where I should sink my claws into you next?”

That damned deep voice of his…the subtle curl of his fingers inside you. Before you know it, he’s pumping in and out, trying to elicit the most vulgar reactions from you. He can’t help it. For a man who prides himself on control…he looses it all when he’s with you.

[butlervibesonly]

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 || Austin Butler

• Summary : Austin had a rough day filming, and Y/n wants him to feel better as he comes home. Dinner, and, welp, a hot bath that isn't just a hot bath...

• Pairing : Austin Butler x female! reader

• Warnings : fluff, kisses and little bit of spiciness by the end...

• Note : I wish, and I'm repeating, I wish, I could write spicy scenes and the more I wish is to be able to finish them (forgive me) 😭🥲

Being an actor is surely amazing thing. Although it could be also very exhausting, and it can be rough. And that's Austin's case. He texted you more than once saying how much he was looking forward to going home, that he had had a hard day and was tired.

After a grueling day on set, he finally steps through the door, exhaustion visible in his eyes and in the heavy slump of his shoulders. The moment Austin walks in, though, he’s greeted by the warm, savory aroma of his favorite food drifting from the kitchen.

“Hey, babe, I'm home,” he calls out softly, and you peek around the corner, giving him a warm smile. You can see just how drained he is, and without a word, you walk over and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Austin lets out a sigh, resting his head against yours, clinging to you as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I made your favorite,” you say softly, giving him a little smile. “I thought you might need a good meal after today.” His eyes soften, and he leans down to press a grateful kiss against your lips. And woah, how much he missed those lips. “You have no idea how much I needed this.”

You guide him to the table, where you’ve already set up everything—candles, his favorite dish, and even a little dessert. As Austin sits down, he looks around, visibly touched by the thought and care you’ve put into making this night special. You serve him, and as he takes his first bite, he lets out a satisfied hum, his eyes meeting yours with a grateful, softened expression.

"This. Is. Frickin'. Delicious." Austin said every word in the way to make you know this was what he craved for. "You're the best cook I know," he says, continuing to eat his food. "Well, thank you, dreamboat." you chuckle.

After dinner, you reach for Austin's hand, pulling him gently toward the bathroom. “I have one more surprise,” you say with a playful smile. He raises an eyebrow, curious, but lets you lead him inside, where you’ve already prepared a warm bubble bath. The room is softly lit with candles, the bath filled with bubbles and infused with his favorite soothing scents. He stares in awe for a second, then looks at you, clearly moved.

“I can’t believe you did all this…for me,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulls you in for another hug. “Of course I did,” you murmur, brushing a hand through his hair. “You do so much every day, and I just want you to relax tonight.”

He squeezes your hand and when he noticed that you actually also added rose petals, he can't help but laugh. "Do you know you should be the one who deserves such a romantic bath?" Austin jokes, making you smile. "You mean a rough man like you doesn't deserve a little tenderness?"

Austin laughs back at your humor, and starts to take off his clothes. As much as you fight the urge, you still watch his muscular body. He gets in, comfortable in the warm water, closes his eyes, the tension in his shoulders finally easing. "Wait a second," you managed to speak again, leaving him in the bathroom.

As you come back, you carry a glass of champagne with a strawberry in it. "There you go," you say, handing him the glass. Austin's smile widen, making him smirk. "You haven't forgotten anything, have you?" he said and took a sip. You follow him with your eyes, every move, every sigh he lets out. Even though he is tired, he is incredibly hot.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch?" Austin lets out, when he notices you standing there like a fool. "Join me, the tub is big enough." he smirks. How is even possible he can make you feel butterflies like some teenage girl?

After doubting for a moment, he nodded his head towards the bath to signal that there was plenty of room beside him. Finally, you agreed, taking your clothes off, too. His eyes don't leave you, capturing your every move. He holds out his hand, which is wet, covered in bubbles, to help you get inside.

You lay beside him, his arm around your shoulders as he press a kiss into your hair. You can feel the way his body reacts to your touch, making him hum. You then felt Austin kissing your neck, more intensively every time.

"I thought you were tired?" You smirked, looking at him. "I'm never too tired for you, doll," he says, his voice deep. Doll. That nickname is stuck with him since he played Elvis and you absolutely loved it. His hands started to roam around your body, and eventually flipped you, so you lay on the top of him.

You heard the water splash out when he did so. Gasping a little, he pressed his lips against yours. "You're so, so amazing. I can't get enough of you." Austin breathes fast as he continues pressing a small kisses all around your neck.

The original plan was for you to watch a movie together, but now it's clear that Mr. Butler has something much different planned...

[joicecubes]

my take on this scene (arcane s2 act 2 spoilers. obviously)

if you’re active within the arcane fandom space recently i’m sure you’ve at least stumbled across the discourse where someone interpreted this exchange to be vi “realizing jinx is a better older sister” or something. personally i think it’s a lot less about comparison and a lot more about guilt.

vi has felt responsible for jinx her entire life. she was her protector when they were kids. she abandoned her after vander, milo, and claggor’s deaths leading silco to take her in. jinx went on to work for him. she killed caitlyn’s mother in the council meeting explosion. everything jinx has done and every horrible thing she’s experienced has been a direct result (at least in vi’s mind) of her own failures as an older sibling. and despite her guilt, eventually she forced herself to accept that powder didn’t exist anymore. even more painful, that since she’s the one who caused jinx to be this way, she also has to take responsibility and stand by caitlyn’s side in ensuring jinx won’t hurt anyone else.

but she fails. jinx runs free, vi wallows in her breakup sorrows, and the next time they see each other, jinx… has changed. and she has that same kid with her from their fight. and she’s come to vi willingly for her help.

i think vi is thinking a lot of things when she sees jinx comforting isha. surprise, firstly, to see this side of jinx she hasn’t seen since they were kids. the jinx she knows is a shell of her former self, changed beyond belief, and yet vi watches as jinx softens and treats isha with so much care. helps her dust herself off, says something vi might’ve said to powder what feels like a lifetime ago. “still got all your insides?”

the truth of it is, it’s not jinx being a better older sister than vi was. it’s jinx emulating what vi once was to her, and i think vi catches onto that. she’s watching as an outsider now, jinx and isha paralleling what her and powder’s relationship used to be like and i think it would make sense if the strongest thing she’s feeling right now is longing. how devastating it is that their relationship feels so irreparable, how deeply she wishes she hadn’t hurt powder so long ago.

but there’s also hope in her asking “why’d you come get me? you don’t actually need my help.” sure, she’s still bitter. how could she not be, after everything that’s happened between them? but she recognizes that jinx doesn’t need her anymore, it becomes especially clear seeing jinx taking care of someone else like vi used to take care of her. so why seek her out? why drag her all the way out here? there’s a deep, wounded, guilty part of her that’s desperate for reconciliation, so she reaches for it. especially now that she has no one else.

they make me so sad :(