#I think i answered this decently i hope anyway just shoot me another ask if i misunderstood anything!

[luckylenses]

Hi

First of all l wanted to say that l love your artstyle and the drawings that you post, so thank you for posting them

Also, l don't know if your werewolf drawings have some story behind them, but the ones about Yasha's mark left me intrigued... Did Beau hel Yasha free herself? Is the scar afecting her transformations in some way?

Hope you recover from your artblock soon!

hello! that's very sweet and I'm glad you're enjoying my scribbles! These doodles are apart of a silly slow burn AU i got up in my noggin yes! Just because i can skip all over the timeline at any given moment but they do eventually face obann & co together (But Yasha is not free in that image) The art was more trying to depict Beau being inquisitive and or trying to sooth Yasha through bouts of lost control. I wanted to play with the dark angel thing bc its fun & why not. That scene in particular is pretty early on in their arrangement and its still eggshells & figuring each other out.

Beau is the kinda girl that i think would just touch a freaky glowing brand on someone's neck and give herself forth degree burns in the process, there was supposed to be more panels before i lost the motivation to work on it. Just depicting Beau being able to communicate with Yasha even when she's not entirely there, Rage, dissociation or anything in between. I dont think there's any actual link between like necrotic shroud or i guess fallen aasimar shenanigans and her mark, I think they trigger from the same place of despair and lack of control and maybe dark entities are pretty into feeding off that. Also thank you! again you're very kind and people showing genuine interest in my goofy doodles helps a lot.

[laiiaaa]

ONE NIGHT ONLY — JJ MAYBANK

summary: JJ has never really liked your boyfriend, but you're not all that fond of him either.

contains: angst, substance use, smut, unprotected sex, cheating, a teeny tiny smidgen of fluff that is quickly destroyed

length: 5.6k

note: Be advised that both Reader and JJ are...pretty terrible! I do not condone their actions—I just live for the drama!

Three shots deep, what’s the worst that could happen? You’re perfectly tipsy—lights just a little brighter, music just a little louder, a buzz thrumming through you that makes everything fun again. Bonfire air warm against you, somehow not enough to fight off a chill that keeps JJ at your side. His body molded to yours, spilling open a pool in your gut you know you’ll mull over when tomorrow comes, tank top disheveled and hair tangled.

Sarah takes a sip of her beer and nods in your direction. “I’ve been wondering, where’s Noah tonight?”

You’d been hoping his name wouldn’t come up.

“Hm, funny that that little boy toy didn’t show up—we scare him off or something? So fast?” John B seems smug at that, maybe a little resentful for your attempt at bringing someone new into the loop.

You fumble over your answer, hoping to piece together something half coherent. “He had to work tonight, I think—or maybe it was babysitting?” You’re halfway to biting your tongue when you let it slip: “Not like I’m missing the company.”

You can feel JJ peering down at you, the way his body freezes. 

Kie’s eyebrows shoot up on instinct. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, glancing at JJ to your left. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Never said it was paradise,” you shrug. You’re almost glad JJ’s so close to you, because it lets you speak freely to him without having to look at him as you do it. “I like him, I really do, but he’s just—I don’t know. I think he thinks you guys don’t like him.”

JJ scoffs.

“And that makes him all awkward when we’re all together,” you continue, ignoring him and trailing off. Your buzz is starting to make you ramble on, and the rest of the pogues look from one another as if they’ve already come to their own unanimous conclusion about the boy.

“I think he’s sweet,” Sarah says, smiling in support.

Pope adds more wood to the fire. “He’s a decent guy. He’ll come around. You’ve been together, what, two months now?”

“Almost three,” JJ cuts in, bitter as the beer he’s been downing since before the sun set. His arm stays warped around you, but his fingers have stopped tracing patterns into your skin.

“Almost three,” Pope continues, “And that’s not a lot of time, right? It’ll work itself out.”

You wish you could say you were content with Pope’s conclusion, but you give him a thankful smile anyway. 

No one else seems to have anything to add until JJ throws his empty bottle off to the side, ignoring the table. He huffs, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve seen him surf, though. Now that, that will never work itself out. The guy looks helpless out there.” He nods in the general direction of nowhere in particular, and you know he means more than he’s led on. 

The others look at one another. John B sips slowly from his bottle in silent communication with Sarah; Pope and Kie exchange a knowing glance. 

Yet he continues, “And I just don’t like the guy. What does he know about our lives?”

You sit up as his arm slips from its position on your shoulder, and you turn to face him. “JJ,” you interrupt, guilt bubbling in your gut as your throat runs dry.

“As far as we know, he’s an almost-kook just looking for pathetic pogue life to make him feel better about himself.” He turns to you directly, and if that weren’t a big enough knife to your chest, he drives it deeper still. “He’s full of himself, Peach, and nobody’s gonna tell you that but me. To him we’re filthy, and so are you—”

“JJ!” John B snaps, trying to salvage what he could of your dignity.

Try as he might, that couldn’t stop a near-silent cry from slipping past your lips. Tears welled, your vision fuzzed, and a hand shot to your mouth, shakily, as JJ stared back at you, his lips in a taught, indignant line.

You swipe tears from your eyes before they can fully realize. “I think I’m gonna…” you start, not even fully aware of the best way to exit. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick, get some water…” You stand up from your chair wearily, turning your back on the group as you walk toward the Chateau.

Sarah mutters an Oh, shit under her breath as she discards her beer and stands up, Kie right in front of her calling out your name.

You slam the door shut behind you, sobs fully escaping you now. You’ve never known this side of JJ—at least not personally, with his vitriol aimed at you. Funny how things have unfolded this way. And to think how not even half a year ago you’d shared a bed with him, barely clothed with tangled limbs and fleeting kisses to exposed skin, his lips against yours as you drank from one another all you had to give and then some more for good measure. To think how that tight-lipped stare was once a contagious smile in the crook of your neck, muttering sweet nothings of your beauty and his adoration. To think how that elation was short-lived beyond comprehension, all that ecstasy in just one night only.

It doesn’t take long before you find the proper stash of the hard stuff and start sipping it straight. The burn down your throat has never felt so good, cathartic even. Sarah and Kie find you in the kitchen, back turned before bottoms up, and they rush over to you, Kie slipping the bottle from your hands.

“Hey,” Sarah says, taking your face in her palms, thumbs brushing tears from your cheeks. “You need to stay as sober as possible, okay? Because we both know JJ well enough to know he’s gonna come in here, and you’re gonna have to talk to him.”

You brush her hands away from you. “Fuck off,” you start, and you wince at your tone. She can smell the alcohol on your breath. The bottle clanks behind you as Kie stows it away once again, and you curse the two girls for only letting you get another shot and a half in your system.

You settle yourself on the couch, Sarah and Kie sitting on either side of you. The room is dark and quiet and for just a moment you feel your head clear up, the only sound you hear being the bass from the music outside and what might as well be no more than laughter among the boys.

“JJ sucks,” Kie sighs, plainly.

“Yeah.” You feel her turn toward you before you answer, “He can be a real dick.”

“What he said to you was terrible,” Sarah adds, brushing your hair out of your face. “I’m sorry we didn’t say anything to shut him up.”

You lend her a smile, as if it could repair everything. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not,” Kie insists. She hugs you to her chest for the first time in a long time. “We shouldn’t have let him go so far with it. He was mean, really mean, and—it shouldn’t be that way. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I feel bad for Noah. How am I supposed to look at him again knowing that’s how people think of him?”

“JJ’s the only one who hates him.” Sarah piles herself onto the hug and in that moment, the three of you know you’ll be okay. “The rest of us like him, and I promise you that. John B seems to approve.”

Kie laughs quietly. “And I can assure you, Pope is glad to have someone else around with at least half a brain. We just want you to be happy, okay?”

“JJ doesn’t seem to agree,” you huff.

“Well—” Kie starts, struggling to find the words— “He doesn’t like change.”

“He’ll come around,” Sarah sighs. “He just needs a minute to act like a brat for the time being.”

The three of you stay that way—a pile of subtle tears and breathless giggles—until the squeaky door cuts into the conversation. With it comes John B’s voice: “Can we interrupt?”

Sarah lifts her head and sees first John B, followed by a now quiet, more timid JJ, and Pope left in the doorway. She glances at you and stands while motioning for Kie to follow, and the two girls gather at the door. Everyone in the room except you and JJ can’t help but notice the way his attention gravitates toward you, the way his body flows closer to yours without him giving it more than half a thought. 

“Can we talk?” he asks, and he says it like it’s taboo: eyes pointed at the ground, hat in his hands.

He cuts into your chest once more, but you shift toward one end of the couch anyway to welcome him in. The others take their cue to exit, leaving you and JJ alone again, unfortunately not for the first time. The couch cushion sinks under his weight. You start to follow suit under the weight of your shared silence.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally, and it doesn’t even begin to be enough.

You tuck your knees to your chest, your whole body turned toward him as he only keeps facing forward. It’s always been like this: you, giving him your all; and him, fighting not to do the same. You stay silent, more as a result of your inability to respond than an active choice.

“I went too far, and I—it was fucked up.”

When you take a deep breath, you’re wobbly in your chest. The moonlight slipping through the windows lets you see his face just enough to remind yourself of the curve of his nose, the soft skin of his cheek—as if you hadn’t already memorized it by now. 

“What did Noah ever do to you, Jay? He’s only ever been kind to you, I—I thought you would’ve at least tolerated him, but—” You stop yourself before tears start to spill.

JJ finally turns to face you when he thinks you’ve started to cry. He’s got a new shiner now, you realize, a busted lip. If you weren’t part of the reason behind it, you’d ask whether John B’s left hook has gotten any better. Maybe it hasn’t, and he only thought he deserved a beating.

“He didn’t do anything, alright—he’s just—I just don’t like him, I don’t think he’s right for you.” His hands fidgeting, his eyes dancing everywhere but in your direction, tell you he isn’t giving the full story.

“Then who is? I’m not even asking you to love the guy, or care about him like you care about John B or Pope, or hang out with him in your free time—I just want some basic respect.”

He looks at you, confused, brows furrowed together as if you’ve misheard him. “I know that, Peach—”

“Then why can’t I at least have someone? You don’t get to fuck with my love life just because you don’t like the guy—you don’t like any guy, JJ.” 

You’re breathing heavier by the end of it, and maybe it’s the fact you’ve spilled it out as you have, or it’s the pleading look he’s burning into you with, but you’re finally starting to get it. The lingering glances he lets slip by whenever you bring Noah around, keeping track of the fleeting touches JJ hasn’t been able to give himself; the way he’s attached to your hip the moment you’re alone, an arm wrapped around your shoulder, keeping you tethered to him; the comments here and there from Kie and Pope about some secret admirer, some undercover lover in disguise who will emerge eventually from the shadows.

JJ looks guilty, it’s melting off his skin like acid. He brings his eyes to yours, a knowing look to condemn you both. “I still think about that night, y’know—”

“Please, don’t.”

“And I haven’t been with anyone else since, you know that—”

“JJ, you know we can’t—”

“Am I really that bad?” he asks, tears in his eyes that call for your own. “I mean, we can’t even talk about it now.”

You take a deep breath once more. “I tried, when it happened, remember? To talk? But you left me alone, all high and dry and in your bed.”

“I know, and that was wrong, but we can try again,” he pleads, and you can nearly taste the satisfaction in slapping him across the face just by picturing it. “I can be better.”

“I want to believe you, Jay—”

“Then believe me—” he shifts toward you, leaning into your space with one shoulder grazing yours and the opposite hand cradling your jaw, hesitantly— “I want to try again, we can do things slow, I promise.”

You close your eyes as you breathe deep, relishing in his touch once more. Yet the deeper you breathe, the harder you feel him, the harder tears pool and fall into that touch. “You were so mean, I don’t understand—you keep hurting me.”

“I know,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I know, baby. And I wouldn’t blame you for hating me—”

“Stop it, Jay—” you push his hands off of you, standing instead, a foot from the couch and burning from his touch— “I have a boyfriend now, we can’t just try again because you’ve finally come around. I’m over it now, I…”

Standing taller than him now, he looks like such a battered little boy. It’s almost a shame he’s just as stubborn. 

“Listen, Peach,” he starts, reaching for your hands and intertwining your fingers loose enough to break free. “I was pure stupid back then, and I was terrible to you just now because—because I know now, that I was stupid.” He pulls you closer to stand between his legs, his neck craned to see your face. “And I’m sorry for being so stupid. I fucked up, but I want to fix this. I want to fix us.”

You shake one hand free to wipe a tear that’s fallen to your cheek.

“I want us back to normal, Peach.”

 “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“It’s okay.” He guides you gently into his lap, and you know before you settle that this will be something you regret. Your stomach churns and your heart races yet you make no move to quell it. You link your hands at the nape of his neck to steady yourself while he takes purchase of your hip, your waist, relishing in your weight against his one more time. 

You’re already leaning into his warmth when he mumbles, “I can smell the vodka on your breath,” tracing his eyes along the gentle curves of your face, landing on your lips.

“Sorry,” you say. You don’t quite mean it, not when his fingers brush against the skin beneath the hem of your tank top. His golden locks between your fingers feel too familiar and you're fighting the feeling in your chest—that yearning, that belonging, that buzz that tells you this is right even though it is anything but.

He pulls you closer still, oh so natural as he does it even though he’s suffocating. 

“Should we be doing this?” you whisper, and you already know the answer. You cradle his jaw in your hands and he nearly melts into you, brows furrowed and jaw slackened.

“I said I want us back to normal,” he croons, pressing his lips to your pulse. “Is this not normal for us?” He drags his breath down your neck to your collarbone, leaving another kiss and lulling your eyes closed. 

“JJ, I—Noah—”

“I don’t give a damn about your boyfriend.” He waits for you to look at him again before he begs the question, “Do you?”

“I—” 

No, you think, but you can’t tell him that, can you? Noah is sweet, he really is, all smiles and daisies and See you laters, all gentle and kind and so unlike JJ, one has to wonder how you made the switch. The last thing you want to do is hurt him. Well, you know what they say: What he doesn’t know… 

“I don’t know,” you answer, facing anywhere but the boy before you.

“Then come back to me.” He kisses your jaw carefully, all-parts loving no-parts lust. Glancing up at you with those pleading eyes, he’s even harder to resist, and as if he knows this, he huffs, and lifts his hands from your waist, keeping them at his sides. “You can say no, and we’ll act like this never happened.”

“Really?” Maybe he’s just playing coy. “You’d just—just forget? About everything? Even before?” You’re asking for reassurance, of course, but unsure why. Maybe you’re the one playing coy, deep down wanting to be wanted by him—wanting him to remember, to keep remembering you—because in the end you want to taste him again, to have him wrapped around your finger. 

“Say the word and I’ll try my hardest.” 

He does exactly that—try, that is—to keep his composure, with your hand brushing from his jaw to his hair, tugging it just right, then slipping back down his neck to his chest, teasing at the fabric of his muscle tee. His skin is aflame and you’re just playing with him as he burns.

Admittedly, you shouldn’t. Infidelity is a terrible, terrible thing, for terribly dishonest people who lead immeasurably misguided lives. Noah doesn’t seem the type to cheat, or lie for that matter, nor would he ever hurt you. He’s the last person to deserve that. He’s crisp, clean-cut, careful. Plays two sports, has a golden retriever, owns his own car. Will probably go on to be respectably wealthy, owning a family business or something related to it. JJ’s prior judgment could’ve been right, and you’d be none the wiser.

And maybe that’s the problem, after all—not enough bumps in the road and you’re bound to fly off into a chasm. It’s not what you’re used to, and, surely if you’re in another boy’s lap, for God’s sake, it’s definitely not what you deserve either. 

Besides, you’ve already screwed up too many times to count. Why stop now?

JJ’s been more patient than you’ve ever seen. His hands stay still, his eyes attentive, smile stifled for the most part. You indulge yourself and trace his arms with the palms of your hands, feel up the muscle beneath them, fight off the urge to bite at your lip. He keeps his face still, a challenge. They say good things come to those who wait.

“Oh fuck this,” you curse to yourself, and you swear you see JJ crack a smile before you take his face in your hands once more and take back ownership over his mouth. 

He nearly groans at the release, the two of you a mess of spit and teeth and tongue with no time to waste, and his hands are caught suspended in the air before holding you again, encouraging an arch in your back with a moan. He doesn’t kiss you like he did before, unsure and gentle; he’s hungry for you, insatiable, wrapping one arm around your waist as the other snakes up your back to grip the back of your neck, keeping you tethered to him as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away. 

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so much of JJ at once: the smell of marijuana that seems to follow him wherever he goes has never been so intoxicating; on his tongue is the beer he’d been drinking by the bonfire; and his skin is still warm to the touch from the sun, smooth and sweaty and addictive beneath you.

You press your hips into his, throbbing where you want him, and he answers you with a moan and his hands gripping your thighs as he hoists you against his waist. He kisses at your neck, biting at your pulse and smoothing over with another press of his lips, and carries you into his bedroom, kicking the door shut before carefully placing you on the bed. 

“Gentleman, huh?” you murmur against his lips. You sit on your heels, nearly kneeling in front of him as he stands before the bed.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.” He’s breathless, so hard it hurts, and the way you’re dragging your hands from his waistband up to his chest isn’t doing him any favors. Looking down at you, he grips your jaw in his hand and leans down to kiss you again, giving in effortlessly when you tug on his waistband and pull him into bed. 

You straddle him as you play with the hem of his tank, pressing at the skin concealed beneath. “Take this off?” you nearly beg.

He shucks the material off, mumbling a Yes ma’am, pliant beneath you. He has to close his eyes, tilt his head back, and breathe deep to stop himself from coming undone just from your touch against bare skin. 

To make things even, you peel off your tank top and toss it back at him to get his attention. When he opens his eyes he groans, almost pained, and pulls you further on top of him, not letting his hands leave your body. “Oh, baby—”

You kiss him quiet and press your hips against him harder, exchanging moans into the other’s mouth. You start to lose yourself in it, you realize—the throbbing in your core, the almost-soreness in your hips matched with all the pleasure. Another minute and you could be coming undone, untouched.

“Jay,” you whine, “I—mmh—I want it.”

With the look on his face you’d think you’d asked him to marry you. “Already?” he asks, more satisfied than shocked. He sits up, that stupid grin smacked on his face, and you nearly pounce on him to feel his touch again. He soaks it in, for he knows this is all he’ll get until who knows when—and he can’t help but think about if you were really his. 

He flips you onto your back and trails open-mouthed kisses from your neck, to your collarbone, to your breasts, moaning when you tug on his hair. “Goody two shoes doesn’t touch you like this, does he?” He presses himself between your thighs, leaving you keening and arching your back into him. “That why you’re so sensitive, hm?” Biting at your neck, he doesn’t let up as he trails his fingers by the waistband of your shorts. “Come on, baby, answer me. When’s the last time he made you come?”

“Fuck you, JJ,” you hiss, despite how good he’s making you feel.

“Trust me, Peach, I’ll let you if you’re honest.” He casts you that stupid, terrible, charming smile and pecks a kiss against your lips.

You catch him off guard when you keep him there, encircling him with your arms and deepening the kiss, pressing your tongue against his and begging for more. Yet he keeps giving into you, letting you flip on top of him again as you slip your shorts down and let them land somewhere on the floor. You start tugging at his shorts but somewhere in your tipsy haze or lust-filled nerves you fail to manage the button.

He gives you a knowing look. “You need help down there?” Before you can snap back at him something vulgar—as if he, of all people, could criticize you for speaking that way—he takes his shorts off to match your attire, locking lips before you can move further. “I want to go down on you,” he says, holding your face in his palms much gentler than you’ve been handling him. 

“No time,” you explain between kisses, though the excuse holds no water. And you know you should let him—he knows what buttons to push, where to touch, the sensuality of it all—but there’s a blaring, nagging sound in the back of your mind telling you he cares more about this than you do. “I want it, JJ.”

“I know, baby, I want you, too—” he placates you with another kiss and pulls you to straddle him again after both of you slip the last of your clothes off, a collection of garments accumulated on the floor. “I don’t have—”

“I don’t care,” you interrupt, lining him up with your entrance and letting the pain mix with pleasure. 

“Fucking hell, Peach, are you trying to kill me?” He lets his head fall to the pillow, one hand covering his eyes in shock while the other keeps hold of your thigh. 

You keep your hands on his abs as your head rears back, drinking in the feeling of him inside of you, grinding down on him. “Could be. Problem?”

Stars in his eyes when he opens them. The curve of your waist. The plush of your thighs. The scratch of your nails down his stomach. The hum of your moans as you lean down, kissing him and swallowing his pleasure like you own him. The rush of adrenaline through his veins when you take his hands in yours and pin them above his head, using his body like you own it and the boy attached to it. Ask JJ yourself and he’ll tell you that you do.

He can barely breathe when you let up. “Not at all,” he huffs, voice hot and forehead sweaty. There’s a fatigued lull in your hips that lets him regain control over his body, tugging his lips into a smirk as he lifts himself up onto his elbows. “ ‘Specially if it means you’re this desperate for my dick.”

You scoff. “Not desperate, I just know what I want.” Someone who isn’t my boyfriend, you think, and the guilt pangs at your chest for a split second before you start to move your hips again, pleasure humming in your core. “And I want you to fuck me,” you almost whisper, “Please, Jay?”

Such a fucking minx. But he can’t resist. He gives you a once-over, and quicker than you can protest, he’s sitting fully upright, leaving wet kisses up your sternum as he grabs your waist and flips you on your hands and knees. He soaks in the sight in front of him—your ass splayed out for him all pretty, the curve from your rib cage to your hips too delectable not to touch—and slips a pillow beneath your stomach. 

His body hunched over yours, he grinds himself against you, sending you pushing back against him as you arch your back and drop your chest against the bed. His mouth hovers at your shoulder, and he takes hold of your jaw to keep you sober. “You said you want it?”

You don’t think you’ve ever been so needy for something in your life. “Yes, JJ—mmh—”

“How bad?” He’s merely playing with you now, too much power than he knows what to do with. He takes his dick and rubs it against you, nearly losing composure when his tip dips into you. “Come on, Peach, you can beg a little.” Though he’s the one who seems to be doing that for you. 

It’s a shame, how a lust like this can grow animosity on its tail. 

“Fuck you,” you spit back, and you don’t know whether you’re cursing him for being him or for being something you want when you shouldn’t. Maybe you’ve started to hate him for trying to love you all of a sudden; it conjures up a bitter taste in your mouth to consider it, how he only ever seems to want you when he knows he can’t have you. “I’m already cheating on my fucking boyfriend, at least do me a favor and make it worth my while.”

He lets go of your jaw in favor of pressing himself inside you again, groaning into your ear and leaving you keening. “You’ve got a mouth on you, I can tell you that.” Lifting himself back up, he grabs your hips and fucks into you, relishing in the feeling of you wrapped around him—at least physically. “Has he even fucked you yet? You’re so—shit—so tight—”

He waits for an answer that never comes out as anything more than heavy breaths and broken moans, and he’s satisfied, but not nearly enough. He slows down his movements, and for a second you think he’s starting to go easy on you. Rubbing your back with one hand, he pushes his hair out of his face with the other. “You all fucked out now, baby? Don’t tell me you can’t—” you bounce back against him, hard, just to spite him— “Mm, fuck—”

You giggle to yourself with your face leaning into the mattress because you already know this is how he is: he likes to talk big, but can’t back it up when it comes to you. You’re happy to let him ride out his pleasure a little longer—placate him, even—soaking up his touch and his groans and just feeling good for once.

JJ leans over you once more and licks the plane between your shoulder blades, and you moan at the chill in your spine when he breathes heavy against you. “Jay, I’m close.”

“I know, I can feel it, baby.” He sucks at your shoulder before looping his arm underneath you and holding your neck, pulling you with him as he shifts upright and pushes into you at a newer, deeper angle. You stumble out another moan and he smiles into your neck. “You like that?”

With one hand you reach up and behind and tug on JJ’s hair. His hands, one at your neck and one at your waist, are burning into your skin. “You feel so good—”

He leaves sloppy kisses on your shoulder, your neck, your jaw, and he’s almost convinced this feels too good to be true. He has you in his bed again, moaning his name, aching for him for what could be the last time. Yet what he can’t shake from his mind is the fact that you still aren’t his: he can’t kiss you just to kiss you, he can’t hold your hand like he sees you do with him, he can’t call this rendezvous anything but something to be forgotten about in the morning.

So when you start panting heavier, crying out his name a little more desperately, he makes sure to hold you tighter and kiss your lips that much harder. When you come undone around him, he drinks up your moans and keeps you grounded against him, letting you lay back down as he pulls out and moans into the open air, which he swears will smell like you for a month.

You lay limp in his bed and groan quietly at your sore muscles, letting your eyelid drift close. JJ rubs your back and kisses your shoulder blades, just barely there, as if he wasn’t just fucking you, moaning into your neck, cursing out confessions.

“Just stay there,” he whispers, and he’s hoping you’ll reply with something smart—Not like I can do anything else, comes to mind—but accepts your silence for the fact you’re too tired to bite back.

You hear the zip of his fly behind you, followed by the door opening and closing, then the faucet running. The bedsheets smell like JJ. When the door opens again, you open one eye to see him, only half-naked now, with a dampened rag which he uses to clean up your back. Your body is jello as he flips you off your stomach, and he smiles to himself as he watches you rub your eyes and yawn, your hair now a mess. He cleans you off for another minute, handling you as gently as he can physically manage, before shuffling through his drawers and emerging with a clean tee and a pair of shorts. He peels your back from the bed. “Up you go,” he mumbles as he helps you fight your arms through the fabric, even gentler so when he helps you into his shorts.

Your head goes hazy, and you think JJ’s left to sleep on the couch until the bed shuffles again.

“Wanna smoke?” he asks, a lighter and joint in his hands. From where, you’re not sure, though you’re not surprised. He situates himself in bed with his lips hugging the joint. You realize that you could describe how they taste from vivid memory again.

You resign yourself to your fate and lean into his chest. “Can’t say no to that, can I?”

The lighter flicks above your line of vision and you feel JJ’s deep inhale beneath you, lulling you further into exhaustion. You see the smoke that left his mouth. His hand moves toward your face and lifts the joint to your lips; you inhale from his fingers, wordlessly, and are pulled deeper and deeper into sleep with an exhale and JJ’s free hand rubbing your back. You see one last puff before your eyes finally close for the night, the warmth of his sun-kissed skin against your face.

JJ lets a few minutes pass after your breathing becomes slow and steady, joint glued to his mouth, before reaching ever so carefully to his nightstand and putting it out in the ashtray. The air is still too full of you for his liking, too much to forget. He lets his mind wander as it begins shutting down, kissing the top of your head as if it’ll keep you in bed long enough to see him wake. Closing his eyes, he knows that by morning, your clothes will be gone, the room will be that much cleaner, and you’ll no longer be his. He wonders whether being the one who waits has brought about any good after all, or if it has left him to cherish fleeting nights he’ll never see again.

[the-therapist-needs-therapy]

How To Avoid Yourself From Getting Killed?

Pairing : Xu Minghao x Reader

Genre : Mafia Au

Warnings : Mentions of kidnapping

Minghao might be the only person on earth who doesn’t trash and throw when you kidnap him.

“Are you sure no one saw you?” you ask Jeonghan, who’s wearing an innocent smile on his face. His baby face gets handy during undercover missions, which is why you still keep him around even after the countless of trouble he gets into, like now. “You could have just bought your disgusting snack like a normal, decent person instead of stealing it.”

He laughs, “Oh my, Ms. Y/n. Are you like a baby boomer or something? Where’s the fun in that?” You swear you almost punch him in the face but being the leader for years you know what your members are capable of, so you decide against it. “But no one saw you right?”

His face scrunches into something you can’t pinpoint but you recognize the face. The face of Yoon Jeonghan who just got himself into a major problem but thinks he has a ‘smart’ solution to it, “Yeah, about that,” he motions at Joshua and Jun, who bring in a boy about your age, “We brought the witness.”

You let out a gasp of shock, looking back at Jeonghan and the boy who has his head lowered. “Jeonghan, we promised to never kidnap people again”.

“It’s fine. He doesn’t shout so no reason to worry,” Jeonghan assures you, but you’re not ready to believe him. With the great Yoon Jeonghan, comes great trouble. He proves your theory every time.

“Leave it, let me see him,” you say, walking to the boy while motioning at Joshua to give him a chair. Even after sitting down, he refuses to meet your eye, so using two of your fingers you tilt his head, and another gasp leaves your lips.

He was genuinely the prettiest boy you had ever seen and you’re saying this after being with Jeonghan for years. His eyes held natural calmness and confidence. They pierced into your own orbs, making your cheeks flush red. You’ve never felt anything like this before.

Before your brain could process anything, someone clears their throat, and it snaps you out of your trance. “Love at first sight is dumb. I don’t know how heroines in movies even do that,” Jeonghan’s uncanny impression of yours makes you shoot daggers at him before you turn back to the boy with the loveliest smile you could offer.

“What’s your name?” suddenly you felt like you were in high school once again, where knowing the name of the cute boy in class on the first day was the biggest success for any girl. He stays silent for a moment before answering, “Minghao.”

“You’re not scared?” you ask and to your surprise, he smiles, “What can I do? It doesn’t help in any way. The least I can do is collect my shit together and hope that this isn’t how I die.”

His reply makes you look at Jeonghan, “In 5 years of working with you, this is the first time I’ve felt proud of you, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, but you know he’s secretly relieved that you didn’t kill him for the whole kidnapping thing. “What now? You’re in love with him?”

Joshua smacks his friend’s arms before turning to you with an apologetic look. “He’s just jealous. I’ll take him away for now,” he mouths to you, dragging Jeonghan away.

“Say, Minghao, what do you feel about taking Jeonghan’s place?”

“You really want him to hate me, don’t you?”

You laugh, “No, I’m promoting him. That’s why. I’ll leave you if you’re not interested.”

He seems to be in his own bubble of thoughts for a few minutes before replying, “I think it’ll be fun. I’m bored of my life anyways.”

You clasp your hands in delight. He better be ready for some excessive flirting because you’ve decided that he’s the one for you. How else can your heart race so fast?

[sorvete-de-pacoca]

leave me or watch me die in your arms

This is the prototype of Good People, I'm quite proud of it so I will post it here.

//nsfw, pseudo incest (bc they 're not rly father/son)

Luciano drinks alone tonight. A regular thing since Martin had kicked him out, threw his clothes at his feet and slammed the door in his face. The blond had gotten tired of trying to save anything between them when Luciano wasn’t putting any work on it. It had been a month already and just yesterday he saw that he posted a photo of him with Manuel. The blond still ignores him. Oh well, at least he’s happy. It was his fourth glass and he was already tipsy. While not human, it didn’t mean the alcohol had no effect on beings like them. He wanted to get his mind empty for a moment and not struggle with all the confused feelings he had been dealing with.

“Easy there, you’re gonna drink the whole bar at this rate” Luciano is startled by a sudden hand gripping his shoulder, and goes wide-eyed when the culprit of his mental turmoil smiles at him. Afonso sits at his side and orders a drink, plus a glass of water that he slides at him “here, we don’t want you puking all over the place do we?” 

“I’m not gonna-” he slurs but the hiccup in his throat says otherwise. He’s embarrassed that he’s getting babied by his father in the worst moment ever. What the hell was he doing in Rio de Janeiro anyway?

“We have a meeting this week you airhead” Afonso's answer makes him realize he had said that out loud.

“Oh” He knew there was something to do with sugar exportation! 

“What happened? You don’t look like yourself”

“I’m fine…” now get out

“Okay…” Afonso doesn't push for an answer and takes a swing of his drink. Luciano knew this was another one of his tricks, pretending to be uninterested until he felt comfortable enough to start spilling the beans. He did that since Luciano was a kid and it was working again, damn it.

“Martin kicked me out…”

“Oh? When?” Afonso questions.

"Last month, I think."

“You guys looked fine! What happened?”

“I..don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

Afonso nods and doesn’t push. Luciano catches him pursing his lips.

C’mon, ask. I know you wanna ask if he knows.

But he doesn’t. Instead he changes the subject. Luciano sighs and just goes with it. The real subject they should be discussing is getting ignored. But after a few more shots he can let loose. They laugh together about some dumb thing that happened when Afonso went grocery shopping. And about Francis' new lover.

“Looks like he won’t stop until he has dicked down the whole Europe!” Luciano’s comment makes Afonso burst into laughter. After recovered Afonso curses

“Foda-se. Guess not everyone is lucky with love huh?”

Luciano agrees with half of a smile. Afonso realizes his mistake “Oh shoot! I’m sorry I didn't mean to…”

“It’s fine, it's fine.” Luciano snorts, with his elbow over the counter, his cheek rested on his hand,“Things were not working out anyway. It wasn’t…fun anymore.”

“Relationships aren’t always fiery and passionate, you kids gotta remember that. Hope you two can still make amends.”

“Maybe I want someone else” Luciano let it escape. Once again Afonso presses his lips together. All of Luciano’s mental brakes were gone thanks to the alcohol, He slid his hand closer to him, nudging his’.

“Luciano..”

“I guess… it would be easier if we were strangers to each other” Their eyes meet, and he wants to drown in the dark green of those eyes. "Don't you agree?"

Afonso’s fidgets with his glass. “You’re…” the older man begins “a good son for me Luciano. I wouldn’t want to forget about that”

Luciano 's expression turns sour. 

I’ve never agreed to that 

Luciano bumps into the counter when he gets up, wanting to get out of there as fast as he could. He places money for the barman, not caring for the change. Afonso, startled, doesn’t try to call for him. 

It’s your fault. Afonso 's brain accuses. It always was. His ugly heart caused him pain again. Stop moping, get up and go help him like a decent father would do! His mind ordered. It should have surprised him to find Luciano still outside struggling to open the car’s door, but it didn’t. Just like it didn’t surprise him to see the young man turn around and stare at him, his cheeks flushed by the alcohol.

“What are you doing here?” Luciano asked in the same panic as someone that was found embarrassing himself.

Afonso walked up to him, they were so close their chests were touching, he could feel Luciano’s breath on his neck. Damn kid was taller than him now. Afonso grabbed the keys pendant between his fingers and unlocked the car’s door. Luciano stayed behind him, immovable, his eyes scanning him. He goes and opens the back door for him.

“Give me your address-” Afonso was going to say he would drive him home. But is cut by Luciano, who pushes him into the back seat.

“Wha–!?”

“Not now. Not tonight. Let me…” the young man clumsily manages to sit on his lap, his legs spread and his hands resting on the older man’s chest. “You owe me this…”

Luciano pins him, burying a hand under his shirt and lifting it, exposing the man’s stomach. Like a hungry man he leans and tastes the skin. Afonso had all the strength necessary to push him away. But his own body betrays him, he doesn’t move. Why can’t he move?

You know why

“Mine” Luciano groans as he nips the flesh. Causing Afonso to shiver. His breath hitches when the younger man applies more pressure into the bite. Luciano pushes up his shirt and Afonso catches himself helping him by lifting his body just enough so he could take it off. Luciano leans closer, he can see the drunk desire in his eyes. A reflection of his own. Luciano's kiss is messy, one he was holding up for a long time. Afonso can taste the alcohol in his breath but he couldn’t care less. He also doesn’t care for the weak voice of his conscience telling him to stop and how he was once again taking advantage of Luciano’s moment of weakness. The dragon inside his heart once again desired to take, the beast claws his son’s back, bringing him closer.  

In his desperation Luciano moves his hips against him. His guts burning in need. Afonso groans into his mouth when he feels the younger man’s erection against him. There was a sick pleasure watching the younger nation so desperate, enough to rut him like an animal. His hands travel downwards and he grabs his ass, pressing him closer.

“Ah fuck” Luciano gasps and speeds his thrusts. A wet spot already forming in the fabric of his shorts. He would love to fuck Afonso properly but in his state he would rather die than stop right now. The image of it fueling his fire. He imagines him pinning the older nation and fucking him while he sobbed his name. Luciano lifts him by his waist and positions him so both cocks are rubbing together. Afonso moans, his hands now are over his torso. He grabs his shirt and pulls.

“Faster…” He demands. And Luciano obeys. And when his thrusts lose rhythm he assumes he's already close. And without a warning Luciano abruptly stops. He moans while cumming under his shorts. Wanting his turn, Afonso keeps him in place while grinding against him, chasing his own release. But when Luciano leans abruptly he freezes. He can’t see what he’s looking at with the man towering over him, but Luciano bites his lips, shutting himself up and hiding after spotting a couple standing a few meters from the car they're in.

Damnit, he forgot they’re in public. 

By the shadows moving inside the car, the couple had left, with a good story to tell their friends, that was sure. Under him, Afonso groans annoyed. Already guessing what had happened. 

“Are they gone?” he asks.

“Yeah..”

Afonso tries to push him and Luciano promptly moves out of the way. He moves to the front seat, the other man stays on the back. Right, he was going to drive his drunk ass back home. When he stops at a red light the light of a pole illuminates inside. Afonso grimaces at his own pants, a wet spot painted his left side. From the rearview mirror he notices Luciano staring outside. Probably the high of his orgasm had runned out and now embarrassment was hitting. Afonso decides to keep quiet during the ride. Luciano only breaks the silence occasionally to give him directions to his house, one of the many the nation had, little particular museums some of their kind kept along their respectives territories. Afonso had a faint memory of this one, but it seems it was reformed recently. He opens the door for Luciano but it ends up not being necessary, he could walk just fine.

Luciano crashes on the couch. Afonso needs water so he makes himself at home and goes to his kitchen. He had forgotten to do the dishes, denounced by the pile of dirty plates and cups in the sink. Also forgot to buy groceries based on what he saw in his fridge. God, how did he survived during all these centuries? Afonso drinks his water in one go from a tea cup. He then splashes water in his face to calm down his own nerves. He hoped Luciano had already fallen asleep to avoid the awkwardness. When he goes to check he’s satisfied he was conceived at least one blessing today. Luciano had only time to take off his shoes before snoozing. Afonso smiles, his son looks so calm and serene. 

You ruined him. 

----------

Luciano wakes up next morning with a faint memory of last night, a headache and a clean sink.

[wordsfromthesol]

The Set-Up

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: @zphilophobiaz @anousiemay @malfoys-demigod @pricetagofficial Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: You are Dinah's younger sister. Word Count: 2,410 A/N: I know it’s been awhile so if anyone wants on/off a taglist just let me know!

"Alright, Roy, you got me here. What's so important?" You called out as you stumbled into what the Outlaws deemed a safehouse. Their standards were pretty low.

"We needed a fourth, okay! Go get Jason and I'll brief everyone." Roy hurried you out of the room that he and Kory were already set up in. You sauntered up to the closed door and knocked.

"Jason, you decent?" You shouted as your fist rapped against the wood.

"Well I'm not morally decent, but I'm wearing pants if that's what you're asking. Though I can be without pants if that's what you prefer --" Jason's voice trailed off as he swung open the door and was met with your face. Clearly, he figured the person on the other side would be Roy or Kory. His face slightly reddened as he reached back and grabbed a shirt.

"I mean…maybe not right now. Roy needs to go over the mission with us." You winked at his obvious embarrassment before trotting off in the direction you came from. Jason quickly caught up with you.

"I…uh…I didn't know Roy asked you for help."

"Yeah he didn't really tell me much. Just that you guys needed a fourth. Not sure why he thinks I'll make that much of a difference.

"Guess we should go find out." Jason raced past you, hoping to avoid further embarrassment, but stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the living room. Roy and Kory were both staring at him, trying to hold back fits of laughter. "What is this all-important mission Y/N was recruited on?" He asked in an attempt to redirect their attention. You walked in behind Jason just in time to get the answer.

"Not really all-important…" Roy's voice reeked of mischief, "just better to have four than three. Then we can do two teams."

"You do know that I have my own agenda. I'm not just sitting around waiting for your call."

"Oh Y/N/N! Don't think of it like that, I practically begged him to ask you. I seriously need some more girl time." Kory piped in to release some of the building tension.

"Uh-huh, sure. Roy, what are we doing?"

"Right. Human trafficking, finally got a hit on this group. Think it's their main smuggling port. There are two docks to check, so two teams. See, I do have a plan. Kinda…"

"Hm mm" you mumbled, still not fully believing him, but you let him continue anyways. You didn't fly out here for nothing.

**

Hours had passed and the four of you sat near the docks, waiting for the cover of nightfall. The smugglers, however, did not. You grabbed Jason's arm and began running towards the dock as soon as you saw a boat pulling into the harbor.

"What are you doing?" Jason mumbled as he ran to keep up with you.

"Are you blind? There's a container ship pulling into the docks. The dock that Roy told us to watch."

"The sun is still setting. There's no way they'd be that stupid." He tried to reason with you, but your pace didn't slow.

"Maybe they just paid the right people. Or killed them." You retorted though the timing was eerily suspicious. Both of you came to a halt when you only saw four guys. Sure, they had guns…but it definitely wasn't enough to warrant extra help. You glanced over at Jason in utter disbelief. "You want me to sit this one out or…"

"Let's just get it over with." Jason was clearly just as agitated as you were. The "battle" lasted only a few seconds and your trip back to the rendezvous spot was completed in utter silence.

"So…Roy. Why the fuck was I needed here?" Holding nothing back, you cried out as soon as you saw his red costume appear in the distance.

"Woah, hold up there. Must've gotten some bad intel. It happens. Better safe than sorry."

"Yeah well next time be sure. I do have my own cases and crime rings to dismantle." You walked off in a huff, determined to find your own way back. You didn't know what exactly Roy was up to, but you knew you wouldn't like it.

**

Months passed since the pointless mission with the Outlaws. You had gotten back to Miami, your home for the time being as you investigated a new drug trade route coming up from South America. Finally, you had made some progress, only said progress led to you being pinned down behind some wooden barrels.

"These aren't going to last long," you mumbled as you dialed Kory on your phone. No answer. "Fuck." Roy was next.

"Y/N, can this wait --" You hear the wind get pushed out of him just as the sentence finished.

"Hm not really. Kinda been pissing off the wrong people and now I'm pinned down."

"Fuck." Roy mumbled as he threw a punch towards the jaw of the unsuspecting thug.

"I tried Kory, but -- shit…" You watched as the barrels splintered around you.

"Off-world. I'm patching in Jas --" Roy stopped a syllable short, you assumed dodging his own bullets. You didn't wait for him to finish.

"Yeah look. I'm in Miami." You heard Jason mumble your name but continued on. You didn't know how much longer you would have. "Pretty sure they'll take me alive. Heard through the grapevine the boss wants the honors himself." You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt a bullet pierce through your shoulder. You took a few steadying breaths before continuing. "I have a tracer in my mask. I'll try to keep it on as long as I can. If you can't track it for some reason, call my sister." You didn't hang up the call before slowly raising your hands above the splintered barrels. "Take me to your leader," you exclaimed in your best alien impression, all while trying not to laugh.

"Do you think this is a game?!" One of the thugs screamed at you as they inched closer. You just shrugged, waiting to either be killed or taken. "Well grab her, idiots!" Two men hesitantly walked towards you, guns still drawn.

"Should I tie myself up? Would that be easier?" At this point, your sarcasm was the only thing keeping you sane. Finally, they got within striking distance and everything went black.

"Y/N? What's happening?!" Jason frantically began calling out your name as he was met with silence. Roy eventually spoke up.

"Jason. I hope you're on your way. I'll meet up with you as soon as I can, but I need to get ahold of Dinah first." Roy had no idea what he was going to say to her.

"Even in the jet, it's going to take 2 hours to get there…" The reality of the situation set it. "But I'm taking off now." Jason tried to push the horrific thoughts from his mind.

**

You woke up tied to a wooden chair. Not surprising.

"So, where's the boss?" You forced the words out, willing yourself into consciousness.

"Don't worry girlie, he's on his way…though I suppose there's nothing wrong with having a little fun first." The goon smirked as he flipped a knife in his hands.

"Well, you wouldn't want to damage the merchandise." You could tell he wasn't sold, so you continued. "I mean I'm dead either way, right? Wouldn't want you to risk your life as well…" He just stared blankly at you while the gears turned in his mind. Finally, he let out an exasperated huff and turned his back to you. At least you were able to buy yourself a little more time. Though you had a feeling it still wouldn't be enough. As your head began spinning, you looked down at your shoulder. The blood was still pouring out of the wound. "Of course…" you mumbled as the dizziness intensified. You were going to have to think of something quickly.

"So, how'd you get stuck with this job? Or are you just some disposable errand boy who got lucky?" You began antagonizing him as you attempted to saw through the ropes with the small blade that discharged out of your gloves.  

"Lucky?" He turned towards you with a villainous look plastered across his face. He sauntered towards you and placed his hands on either side of the chair. "I've been following you. I know your patterns. When you strike. That ambush was calculated and planned. Boss sent me 'cuz he knew I'd get the job done." Before he could push himself up from the chair, you launched forward, ramming your head into his. As he crashed to the floor, another burly man rushed into the room. You managed to free one of your legs just in time. As he stumbled backward you bent down in an attempt to free your other leg. The man lunged at you again. Pulling the other leg free, you circle around and hurled the chair at him. You let out a huge sigh of relief and slid to the floor as he landed atop the first assailant.

**

Jason watched as men patrolled around the building. Just as he was about to move Roy's voice came over the comm, "Have you found her? What's the situation? I'm still an hour out."

"I found her. They have four guards patrolling. Heavily armed. I found an opening."

"Four patrolling…you can't get any intel about who's inside? I think you should wait for me to get there." Roy already knew there was no hope of that.

"We may not have a chance if I wait. I'm going in."

Jason heard his best friend sigh, before eventually relenting. "Keep me updated. I'll be there when I can." Jason saw his opening coming up again. He moved quickly and quietly, sliding into the open door. He took in his surroundings, trying to not alert anyone of his presence unless absolutely necessary. He didn't want to give any of them a reason to shoot you…that is, if you were still alive. As he rounded the corner, he came face to face with a brutish man. Jason launched himself forward, knocking them both to the ground as he muffled the goon's mouth with his hand and encapsulated his neck. It only took a few seconds before the guard was out cold and Jason continued lurching down the hallway. He stopped short of a closed door. Jason took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever awaited him on the other side.

**

You were jolted awake a few moments later and looked around to find the two men still unconscious on the ground. Crawling over, you pulled at one of their jackets and cut off a long piece. It took the last bit of your energy to tie it around your still bleeding shoulder. As your eyes began to flutter closed once again, they shot open at the sound of the door opening. You forced your head upwards and let out a faint chuckle at the familiar Red Hood that looked down at you.

"Solis!" Jason's eyes went wide as he saw the amount of blood in the room. "Shit alright. I need you to stay awake, okay?" You nodded and forced your eyes open as Jason dove down beside you, properly retying the fabric around your shoulder. Jason stared at you for a few moments before pushing himself up and firing a single shot down the hallway. You watched intently as the goons came running in, Jason plowing through them in a matter of minutes. Jason scooped you up, not bothering to try and gather any further information from you.

**

You woke up in a bed in an unfamiliar room. Your brain began piecing together the events. Jason had come to get you, then put you in a car, brought you here, sewed up the wound…you wondered how long you'd been asleep. The door creaked open and you saw both Roy and Jason standing in its frame.

"You're awake! Thank fuck, D would've killed me!" Roy rushed over and embraced you.

"Yeah probably…" You were speaking to Roy, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jason. There was something there, unspoken, that you couldn't remember. What had happened? How long had you been asleep? As if reading your mind, Jason spoke up.

"It's only been 12 hours," he watched your eyes go wide. "Before you freak out, you lost a lot of blood and were barely hanging on to consciousness. 12 hours is not that many. You'll still be weak." Jason began to step towards you but hesitated. Roy immediately noticed the awkwardness his presence brought.

"Imma just…I'll go get us some food…or something." Roy pointed towards the door and rushed out.

"I feel like I'm missing something."

"No…I just. I was worried." You leered at him, knowing that was not what you were missing. You carefully sat up and swung your legs over the bed, determined to get to the bottom of whatever feeling this was. Once you attempted to stand, Jason was at your side in a fraction of a second. "I just said you would be weak…" he mumbled out.

"Well I have to go to the bathroom and you aren't giving me answers anyways." You tried to push him away. It unsurprisingly did not work.

"How long have I known you? For once, just stop being so damn stubborn!" He grabbed your shoulders, in an effort to steady both of you.

"I dunno like 8 years…" you grumbled out, unsure if the question was meant to be answered.

"Yeah well for 7 and a half of those I've loved you. And it just hit me that you could die…hell I could I die, and you wouldn't know." His hands traced down your arms and collapsed at his side. "I guess that just broke me, okay? Are you happy now?!" The anger in his voice rose.

"So how about those pants now?" You smirked, trailing your eyes over his body. Jason's eyes lit up as he began to laugh, recalling the situation from months prior.

"Maybe not right now…let's wait until you can stand on your own."

"JUST KISS HER ALREADY GOD DAMMIT!" Roy screamed from the doorway. Neither of you knew how long he'd been there, but that didn't deter Jason. His lips smashed into yours while his arms enveloped you.

"FUCKING FINALLY!" Roy screamed as he threw his hands up in the air.

[spencersawkward]

*house call // wes (Dollface)*

ssummary: when her pet cat gives her a scare, Reader decides to call the vet to make sure everything is going to be okay. 

pairing: Fem!Reader x Wes

word count: 5.4k

content warnings: discussion of cannabis/cannabis consumption, unprotected penetrative sex, use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), SoftDom!Wes, breeding kink, creampie. 

request: can you do a wes smutty one shot if you’re down?! 

A/N: to be fair, i haven’t watched Dollface in a minute, but i’m obsessed with the domestic vibes that Matthew gives off when he plays Wes and i just thought it would be super cute. anyway, this was super fun also i wanna fuck Wes. ok enjoy!

masterlist

the absolute best part of your day is when the package arrives at your doorstep. you impulse-purchased it about two weeks ago while you were hanging out with one of your close friends, and you've been looking forward to trying it every day since. 

or, really, for your cat to try it. 

you've read reviews and been extremely diligent to make sure the stuff is completely safe, and everything you've seen or read was singing the praises of this cat weed (which isn't actually cannabis at all, but catnip made to look like it).

as you take the cardboard box to the kitchen table and pry open the top with the help of a Swiss army knife, you're grinning. Klimt comes scampering into the room to see what all the fuss is about, sitting at your feet with his tail curled around his legs. 

"no peeking." you scold him gently. your kitten, the friendliest little rescue tabby around, simply stares blankly back. when you remove the wrapping from the glass jar and stare at it up close, you're impressed by how realistic it looks. the label shows cat-friendly ingredients only, but you unscrew the top and get a whiff of catnip. 

Klimt begins to weave in between your legs, nudging them affectionately and beginning to purr. you giggle and bend down to give him a few pets. his nose twitches; he tries to sniff at the foreign object, but you put it back on the table. 

"don't be greedy, babe." you scratch between his pointed ears and he lets out a whiny meow. 

it's about his dinner time, and you were hoping to give him his treat tonight after he finishes his dry food. so you make yourself something simple with the leftovers in your fridge and do some more work on your laptop while you two eat together. 

you've had Klimt for a while, now. you call him a kitten even though he's a full-grown cat-- he's just as playful and enthusiastic as any newborn. his eyes are the color of meadow grass, and his nose is scattered with tiny freckles. it makes him look like he's just come from digging around the backyard, but it really just adds to his charm. 

not to mention his ceaselessly social tendencies: Klimt is always around when your friends come over, worming his way in between you or sitting on one of the free chair cushions to listen. you wonder if he knows what you're saying sometimes, because when you talk about the embarrassing things you've done that day or the failed interactions you've had, he always lifts his head to give you something of a judgmental stare. 

once you've settled down for the evening and turned on the TV, you decide that now is the time. Klimt is aimlessly poking at a few of his toys. he bats at a fake mouse between his paws.

"kitten," you click your tongue and get up to grab the jar. "are you ready to try this stuff?" 

as if he's going to answer. he hears your footsteps coming back his way and watches patiently. it's only when you pour out a little bit in front of him that he gets curious about the stuff. you admire his movements as he bends down and examines. 

although you keep an eye on him while watching your show, you don't notice much of a change in him. he starts to roll about on the floor, which is to be expected, but it's only when he starts to chase around his fake mouse that things get interesting. 

you laugh as Klimt goes nuts, jumping back and attacking the thing like he's ready to come in for the kill. it's really funny, but you're interrupted by your phone buzzing. you told your friend that you were doing this tonight. 

"hi!" you answer the FaceTime call right away. 

"how is he?" you can hear the smile in Andi's voice as you turn the camera. 

"he's loving it." 

"oh my god," she laughs. Klimt arches his back, leaping so highly in the air, you raise your eyebrows. "I wonder how long it'll last." she muses. 

"I'm guessing we'll get about an hour more of this before he passes out for the next two days." you joke. he gets strong bursts of energy usually, but they only last so long until he's curled up on the window sill or in your bed. 

Andi and you talk for a while as Klimt tires himself out and plays with all of his favorite toys. you dangle a string in front of him for a decent amount of time, too, just to make him get up on his hindquarters. he's a natural entertainer, a lithe little thing who lets out a few irritated meows to demonstrate his impertinence. 

after about forty-five minutes, however, you notice your cat's behavior change. he keeps raising his hackles and rolling about, and something about it makes you nervous. he doesn't usually act like this, not even when he plays with the other catnip toys he's accumulated. 

"what's wrong?" Andi notes your furrowed brow as you look past the camera of your phone and at your pet. 

"he's just acting really weird," you pat the couch cushion to call him over, but he doesn't even glance up. "I don't know why." 

"maybe it's the cat weed." she suggests. you purse your lips and try to think. 

"yeah, but nobody in the reviews ever mentioned anything like this."

"I'm sure he's fine, Y/N."  

"yeah, I know..." but you're worried. Klimt is your pal, your cuddle buddy. as he rubs his cheek against the wooden floor, you feel guilt pool in your stomach. if he's hurt because of some dumb online purchase, you're never going to forgive yourself. "I'm gonna call the vet just to be sure."  

"oh, okay," she sounds surprised, but doesn't try to stop you. "let me know what they say." 

"I will." you hang up the phone and stare at your companion for a few seconds. he leaps into the air and does a somersault before letting out some deeply disturbing whine that reminds you to call the vet. better safe than sorry.  

...

when the doorbell rings, you're practically twiddling your thumbs anxiously. Klimt hasn't settled at all, and you haven't even bothered to change out of your lounging ensemble. you're pretty sure you look a mess, but hopefully the person won't care too much. 

you don't know who to expect-- your usual vet is an older woman who is friends with your mom, but her receptionist said she was out tonight and would send over another vet to check it out. 

when you swing open the door, you immediately regret the decision to stay in sweatpants. 

"hi, I'm Wes." the guy gives you a friendly smile and holds up his bag. it's almost comically old-fashioned, something out of an old movie, and you half-expect him to be wearing a stethoscope around his neck. 

he's gorgeous, though. definitely a good amount older than you, tall with brown curls and stubble. his features stand out to you even under the porch light, and your mouth guppies idiotically. 

"hi," you manage. his eyes flicker to your hand, which is seemingly blocking him from coming inside the house, and you jolt back a little to let him in. you clear your throat. "sorry." 

as he steps inside and you close the door behind him, getting one tiny moment to yourself, your eyes widen. way to make yourself look like a bumbling fool. 

"I heard that there's a tabby who got into some catnip?" you catch him looking around the front of your house, eyes catching on the framed photos before finding yours again. you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, but nod confidently.  

"yeah, Klimt. he should still be in the living room." 

"Klimt? like the artist?" he chuckles and follows you into the rest of the home. his voice has a nice timbre to it, something low and gentle that fits well with his occupation.  

"yeah, exactly." you turn to smile at him. 

you hear the cat before you see him. he's climbed to the top of his cat tree and leaps down onto the ground, paws hitting the surface in a way that can't have been comfortable. he chirps and looks up at Wes, whose lips are turned up with amusement.    

"are you the man of the hour?" he asks, approaching the cat. Klimt's pupils get enormous and he prepares to pounce on the newcomer. 

"careful--" you start to warn him, but the cat launches himself right into Wes' arms. the vet turns to you, holding him to his chest, and grins. warmth spreads over your skin with embarrassment. "sorry." 

"no need to apologize," he starts to pet Klimt, who is only slightly struggling to escape. he wants to go wild again, but Wes isn't going to let go. "they call me the Cat Wrangler at the office." 

"really?" you snort. he brings your pet over to the couch and sets him on the cushions, careful to keep him in place. 

"no way." he shoots you a dazzling smile. the joke makes you giggle, and you feel yourself become even more self-conscious about the outfit you're wearing. this is just your luck, having hot guys come over when you distinctly look your worst. 

Wes scratches between Klimt's ears and glances up at you again. "is there any reason in particular you're worried about the catnip?" 

"yeah, actually," you nod, brought back to reality. "I know it's supposed to make them more playful, but he's just been acting weird and I got worried that there was something in it that messed with his head." 

"can I see the container for it?" he asks. you go to grab the jar, only to remember that it proudly announces itself as cannabis for cats. profound embarrassment causes you to hesitate with the stuff in your hands. 

it's not like he's here for you to flirt with, but you're still thinking about how stupid and young you're going to look with this stuff in front of him, a hot older guy who seems to have his life under control. you peek at him once more from the kitchen, at the way he smiles and starts to talk softly to Klimt as if he were a peer. 

he's kinda crazy, and it makes you smile. 

"it's cat weed." you hand him the glass container, and Wes breaks into a grin as he looks at the front. 

"oh my gosh, I've heard about this!" his eyes move quickly over the label. you're in shock. 

"really?"

"yeah, it's hilarious. here, can you make sure our friend here doesn't move while I read the ingredients?" he gestures. the knot of anxiety within you loosens a bit. you nod obediently, going to scoop up your pet and sit him on your lap. he's still squirmy, but he doesn't look ready to attack either of you, thankfully. 

"hey, you." you greet your pal affectionately. his tail is wagging impatiently while Wes kneels on the ground beside the couch. there's a silver ring on his finger, but you notice with relief that it's not on his fourth one. 

when he sets the jar down on the coffee table with the kind of smile that hints at some secret amusement, you frown. "what?"

"nothing," he shakes his head. "Klimt is gonna be totally fine."

"are you sure?" you pet the feline's smooth coat. 

"definitely. you know how drugs affect people differently?" he asks. you want to say no, you don't know that because why would you, but then you remember that there is quite literally a glass-blown bowl sitting on your kitchen table. 

"sure." you reply honestly. 

"it's the same with cats: some just feel the effects a little more." he shrugs. you think this over for a second. 

"that makes sense." 

"yeah, I'd estimate about an hour more of this wildcat behavior before he takes a ten-hour nap." he cracks another joke and you find yourself totally charmed by him. something about the way he talks just makes your heart beat like crazy.  

"that's a relief." 

he chuckles and stands up, grabbing the bag (which he never even had to use) and starting to walk out of the living room. you can smell his delicious cologne as he moves past you.  

"sorry for making you come out here so late." you apologize from the couch. Wes turns to look at you with an easygoing expression. his free hand is tucked into his pocket.  

"no worries. you have a lovely home." he gestures to the kitchen, and then at the bowl sitting there in the open. you have to fight the smile on your face.  

"thanks." you're smirking. right before he's about to head back out, you ask a question that's been wriggling around in your mind since he arrived. "why no title?" 

"you mean, like, Doctor or something?" he stops in the threshold. one hand leans against it while he answers your question. you still can't get over how tall he is. 

"sure. I mean, you are a doctor, right?" it comes out more dubious than you intended, but he doesn't get offended, only smiles. 

"yes, I'm a doctor. I went to Davis." he points like the school is right outside your door. you nod.  

"cool." 

there's a silence where you just look at each other, and you forget that you look like you just rolled out of bed. he clears his throat. 

"to answer your question, I just go by Wes because you're not my patient-- Klimt is." he points to the kitten, who is now chasing his own tail like a dog. you snort at the sight. 

"how humble of you." 

"I know, right?" he's joking. you find yourself not wanting him to leave, even though you've really just met. he's so sweet and funny and handsome... your stomach is flipping over and over like a schoolgirl. 

and it's stupid that you can't think of one plausible reason for him to stay, but every step he takes shortens your time to think. so you just blurt, instead. 

"would you want a beer?" 

Wes pauses and looks at you, an unreadable expression on his face. "a beer?" 

"yeah, I mean... you came all the way out here and I just feel bad for causing a fuss over nothing." you scramble slightly to justify your words. you don't ever drink beer-- do you even have any? god, this is embarrassing.  

the vet checks the watch on his wrist, then smiles at you with a halting kind of enjoyment, before nodding. "sure." 

"okay, great." you turn on your heel to hide the grin on your face. he follows you again to the kitchen area and leans against the counter while you open the fridge. the best form of flirting you can manage right now is bending over shamelessly and taking your time to poke around. 

thankfully, there are three cold bottles left towards the back. you take out two and use the tool in one of your drawers to pop the tops off. he watches patiently, takes a sip when you hand the drink to him. your eyes meet. 

"so, what prompted the cat weed purchase?" he starts the conversation effortlessly, and you try to keep your eyes from wandering over the shape of him. now that he's just standing in front of you, you're noticing the way his sweater sits against his frame, his long legs and the way his head rests on an elegantly-proportioned neck. 

"I just saw it and thought it would be fun." you shrug honestly. he smiles.  

"do you think you're gonna let him try it again another time?"  

"I don't know," you cross your arms over your chest. "I'm a little nervous, but he also was having a lot of fun until I made him sit still." 

"fair enough." you both turn your gazes to the cat. he's nudging a little toy ball with his nose and watching it roll across the floor. there are tiny bells inside that jingle. Wes turns back to you. "what do you do?"

"graphic designer." 

"an artist." he raises his brows, impressed. 

"not exactly saving animal lives, but I get by." you take another sip of your drink. 

"it's not like that, mostly." he rolls his eyes playfully. 

"then what's it like?"

"I just see and talk to people's pets all day. it's a pretty great job, even when it's not. you know?" he's optimistic about it. you're drawn to his positive energy, to the way he smiles when he speaks like he's preparing to deliver a witty joke. 

 you're hopelessly attracted to him, and the space between you is becoming unbearable. even though he's a guy you just met, you can feel in your gut that something about this is just right. you want his body against yours. 

 "you okay?" he breaks what you only now realize is a silence, and you blink to clear the dirty images from your mind. 

"yeah." only thinking about you fucking me against a countertop. it must be the fact that you haven't gotten laid in a while or something, because you usually aren't this attracted to people within the first hour. it takes longer for you to even want to kiss them.  

"what kind of stuff do you design?" he seems genuinely interested as he shifts and continues to nurse his drink.  

"I work for a tech startup downtown, so it's a lot of website work to make sure it's navigable and pretty." you try to sum up your duties, but it's hard when his hazel eyes are so intent. he listens to every word.  

"do you do personal work, too? like, just for you?" 

"actually, yeah!" this sparks your excitement. 

"can I see?" his smile widens. "only if you're comfortable, of course."  

"sure." you're beaming.  

he stays put as you start to go out of the kitchen, but then you smile. "you can come with." 

"oh." he sets his beer down on the counter and follows you, slightly surprised. but you don't care; you were nervous before, but he's stayed for this long. maybe he wants you, too. 

once you get to your bedroom, you're grateful that it's been freshly cleaned. there's even a bouquet from the flower's market sitting on your dresser, and you head over to the desk to sift through the drawers for what you want. 

"cool room." he compliments from the threshold. he's careful not to make you uncomfortable, but also can't resist the curiosity that draws his gaze from wall to wall. you find the stack of papers and smile. 

"thanks," you place the folder in his hands. "these are some printed versions of stuff I did last year." 

Wes immediately begins to flip through the art. him seeing your stuff makes you nervous, so you pretend to focus on straightening up the few items that sit on your desk. you wipe your fingertip over a nonexistent film of dust. 

"these are amazing," he says, holding a card stock copy in between his index and middle fingers. "holy shit."

"thank you." you're trying to keep from smiling too hard. you can tell that he's being genuine with his compliments, and it makes your heart swell. 

"definitely. are you showing anywhere?" 

"at an exhibit downtown a couple months back, but I've been so busy with work that personal stuff hasn't really been on the table, you know?"

he nods in understanding and continues to go through until the end. when he's finished, he looks up and sees you, his eyes concentrated. he doesn't speak at first, and an undercurrent ripples across the room. there are about three feet between you, and you have no excuse to lessen it. 

he licks his lips slowly. you purse yours, unsure of what to say. 

"I'm glad you called tonight." his voice is lower, slightly uncertain, like he's testing the boundaries. except you don't want boundaries right now. you want to go wild on him. 

"me, too." you reply. it's in your eyes, that begging for him to do what you're scared to initiate. 

your tongue is pressed to the back of your teeth in anticipation. and when he sets the art back on your desk and comes closer, you feel yourself give in. bubbles of excitement travel up your body as he grabs your face and bends down to kiss you. 

it's full, passionate, not the kind of kiss you give someone you've just met. laced with desire and longing, you respond immediately. hands immediately run to his forearms, over his shoulders as he imposes beautifully on your form. it's so hard, you lean back slightly. your torso presses against his until he pushes you against the wall. 

the slight gasp that escapes your lips causes him to smile, followed by your moan and clutching fingers. the material of his sweater, the taste of him mingled with that sophisticated, gentle smell of cologne that you want printed all over your skin. 

"come here." he murmurs against your mouth and reaches down to the back of your thigh so you can hook your leg around his waist. you whine at the easy access he has to grind against your core, both of you desperate. 

"Wes." you pant into his open mouth. he sucks on your bottom lip before finding your cheek and jaw. his fingertips tighten around your flesh. 

"this feel good, sweetheart?" he checks in. coincidentally, his jeans grind against your panties at exactly the right spot and your hips jump. you release a pleasured yelp. 

"mhmm." 

"sounds like it." he latches onto your throat with a possessive excitement. you can feel him sucking and biting at the skin until you're positive there'll be marks tomorrow. you hope there are; purpled evidence of his touch. he digs his nails into your thighs. "you like it when older men touch you, baby?" 

he blows over your tender throat before attacking it again. you sigh contentedly at the way he mingles sensations for your pleasure. "yes." 

he grunts and nips at your collarbone, sliding the strap of your top down your shoulder so that he can effortlessly flutter his lips over the skin. you grip at him and toss your head back against the wall. his weight on yours is divine. it makes you weak, but that doesn't matter. he's practically holding you up at this point. 

when his hand pushes under the hem of your shirt and dances over your stomach, you arch your back for more. he's gentle yet firm, pulling you close like he wants to breathe your oxygen. he's tracing over your ribcage, all the way up to the valley of your breasts, before cupping one and moaning into your shoulder. 

he kisses you again with an aching hunger that can't be satiated. your tongues meet and Wes finds your hardened nipples beneath the thin fabric of your bralette. you sigh while he starts to circle one with his thumb.  

"you're perfect." he breathes. 

you want to bask in this moment, to enjoy the shock across your skin when he reaches his hand back down between your bodies to dip below the waistband of your sweatpants, but you're just so greedy. he could make you cum over and over and it would never be enough. 

"what do you want me to do to you?" Wes is hovering over your lower stomach, dangerously close to where you need him most. he's teasing. the warmth of his skin drives you mad. his breath brushes over the shell of your ear. 

"fuck me." it's the only response you can fathom. every other instinct in your body flies out the window and is replaced by a craving to sink your proverbial (and literal) teeth into him.

but he loves it, apparently, because he pushes you back against the wall with a nearly bruising force. "I can do that." 

with those words, he quickly grabs your other leg and lifts you into his arms, bringing you to the bed and laying you delicately on the mattress while you giggle. you stare up at him with an almost daydreamy lust. his cheeks are flushed. 

you only get a second of that heavenly sight, though, before he dips down and pushes your shirt up to see your tits and kiss up the chasm between your ribs. his stubble tickles your skin, which causes you to smile. 

by the time he's pulled your sweatpants off and tossed them to the side, you're whining for him to strip down as well. 

"what is it, pretty girl?" he murmurs against your tummy. when you try to squeeze your thighs, he pushes them apart. 

"I wanna see you." your fingertips touch at his sweater. he chuckles and pulls the garment over his head. it messes up his perfect hair even more and you love it, tangling your fingers in it. he bites his lip. 

"do you want me to taste you first?" he keeps stroking the inside of your thighs and staring down at the skimpy lace that you're positive that you've already soaked. you're making him crazy with the way you roll your hips against air, against nothing, seeking any kind of stimulation. 

"I can't wait." you shake your head. as nice as it would be, you're going to implode if he doesn't fill you up soon. he drags his fingers down your clothed slit and groans when he feels just how ready you are for him. 

"let's take these off then, okay, sweetheart?" he hooks his fingers in the panties and waits for you to nod before tugging them down your legs. you whimper at the cool air that hits your core, soaked and needy. Wes stares at your body on display for him. 

as he gets back up from the floor to kiss you again, you both work to remove the rest of his clothes. his skin is perfect under your hands. his chest is warm, solid, and when he climbs on top of you, his arms rest on either side of your head.

one hand comes down to grab his own cock and stroke it a few times before lowering himself to rub it against your throbbing clit. you whimper at the pressure; he's mindless when he feels how easily you cover him in your essence. 

"so fucking wet..." he groans while rutting against you. 

"Wes, please--" your breath hitches. "put it in." 

"begging?" he teases your entrance with the head and smirks. "good girl." 

"mhmm." you're smiling, but your mouth drops open when he pushes himself inside. 

it's a heavy feeling, him filling you up. he's thick and the stretching of your walls makes him groan and rest his head on your shoulder. he kisses the skin there while diving deeper into your body. 

you're shaking slightly from the mixture of pain and pleasure, his size forcing your body to work quickly to accommodate. your eyes are squeezed shut, but you run your hands over his back and shoulders to stay grounded. it feels like a dream. 

he starts to pull out, coated in your wetness while you whimper below him, and he grabs your face with one hand in a dominant, soft gesture. "okay?"

"yeah." 

he pushes back in. the air in your lungs is practically gone at this point, he's so deep inside. your eyes roll back and push your hips up to take him at a new angle. Wes finds his pace easily, rocking into your body at a manageable pace to let you get used to the sensation. 

every time his hips roll down and he buries himself in you, he presses on your clit and sends a new shock through your body. he leans on his elbows to get closer and feel every undulation of your body. you love how his thrusts force your legs apart, how he moans your name and causes the headboard to repeatedly hit the wall while maintaining eye contact. hazel irises that rake over your features with lust. 

"you feel so good." he speeds up a little when he hits a certain spot. you can feel him deep and hard, causing a small bump to rise in your stomach with each stroke. his voice is husky and dark. like a man starved. 

"fuck..." you drag your nails down his back. he groans at the red marks that you will no doubt leave for him. 

"clingy thing, huh?" he sucks at your throat affectionately. "I come over for one thing and you can't help yourself." 

hearing Wes speak through his own panting is like listening to a secret, and you never want it to stop. he's reveling in the sordid crush of his own wants, and the way he shoves into you shows you that he has no intention of slowing down for a while. 

"I'm impatient." you smirk. he pulls away to admire your expression. 

"so am I." he kisses your lips and starts to pound into you. the juxtaposition of his tenderness and the sharp snap of his hips to yours fills you with butterflies. you love how much he wants to ruin you. 

"Wes-- oh my god!" you whimper. he grabs your hips and yanks them closer to him so he can go as deep as possible, so he can hit your cervix. 

"that's right, sweetheart," he pants. you can tell that he's starting to lose control. "say my name. I want everyone to know what a good little slut you are for me." 

the commanding tone makes your body shake. "I- I'm cumming, Wes, please--"

"please what, baby?" he taunts. his index finger is tracing over your jaw. 

you don't know what it is that you're wanting, except more. as your form shudders and tightens, walls fluttering around his cock, you lose the capacity to speak. you grind your hips against him and cry out pathetically while he pushes you back down and slams ruthlessly into your pussy. 

"cum inside-- please, I need it--" you writhe. he groans at the request. 

"fuck, yes..." he sheathes himself. "take it."

you gasp as he repeatedly hits your weakest point and spills hot ropes of his cum inside you, still thrusting in and out and whimpering into your shoulder at the clenching sensation you give his cock. it's warm, strangely delightful, nearly sending you into another orgasm sheerly from the sight. 

he mutters unintelligibly as he empties himself in your pussy, but you catch a growled "so needy," between deep moans. you're clinging to him like you'll never have it again. you might not. 

he slows down, giving shallower thrusts while riding out his high and shoving his cum deeper inside. it turns lazy and messy, both of you panting, before he finally pulls out and rolls over next to you. 

you press the back of your hand to your forehead. it's sweaty from all the work he just put you through, but you feel amazing at the same time. your eyes keep flickering from the ceiling above to his rising and falling chest beside you. his nose twitches; he turns his head to look at your face. 

although you expect him to say something, he doesn't. instead, you just stare at each other. the air conditioner rattles gently in the background. you're not sure how long this lasts, this soaking in, but he's the first to break it. 

"hey." 

you find the corners of your lips turning up. "hi." 

"do you mind if I go get something to clean you up?" he asks softly, his fingertips finding your forearm with ease and drifting over it.

"sure. bathroom is the first door on the left." 

he gets up and you watch him gather his clothes, eyes glued to his perfect form. you can't believe you just had sex with your veterinarian. you don't regret it at all. 

he wanders out of the room and your eyes follow, only to see Klimt sitting patiently by the door. 

"what are you doing, perv?" you tease as he comes over and leaps up onto the bed. his kitten paws pad over the blankets and settle into the crook of your arm. you smile to yourself, recalling how sweet the vet was with him. "hey, Wes?" you call out. 

"yeah?" he comes back into the room with a warm washcloth and a small smile on his face. 

"would you wanna get coffee or something sometime?" you bite your lip. maybe he doesn't want to go on a date, but it's worth a shot.

"sure." he breaks into a grin that makes you giddy. thank god, because you really were hoping to see him again. 

you can't wait.  

taglist (lmk about adding/removal or add yourself to the list here!): @jareids @reidsconverse @xoxomgg @may-b-a-u-shewritestoo @la-vie-en-amour1 @g0lden-cth @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @kisseslikecoffee @spenxerslut @slutforthegubes @spookydrreid @depressedgothgrl @flipper-kisses @multixfandomwriter​ @willowrose99​ @gingeraleluke​ @chasemoonlight​ @spencerreid9​ 

[justtuesdays]

meet the bombshells: beach hut confessions

thank you to everyone who submitted questions. seriously, didn’t think so many of you were eager to meet these bombshells. and by all means, feel free to continue sending them in, all six of them are open to answering your most probing questions.

🎇[ part i ]🎇[ part ii ]🎇[ part iii ]🎇

confessions below for ig, tandy & marco! you can find their interview here!

@dragonfly1399 asks: Hiii! Um. So, um, a question for IG 👉👈 will he, um… will he teach me how to play cello? Please? It’s a big dream of mine🥺 I’ll be a good student, I promise! *wink wink*

IG: (whistles) “I always did want to do some tutoring. (wiggles his eyebrows suggestively) If I’m still available after this stint, I’ll drop by. Just drop your info in my DMs.” (Marcos chuckles, Tandy shakes her head) “What? You do realize the odds of us all staying in the villa are about—“ (counts with his fingers)

M: “You’re actually doing the maths for this? (shakes his head) The best odds is if two of us stays. (IG sighs) Or something like that, anyways.”

T: “Anyways— cellist really? You’re whole vibe says indie rock, what’s that about? (Marco nods, IG opens his mouth to speak) And better not be a sob story please, we’ve already gone over our odds.”

IG: “I had a knack for it as a kid and people said I could make a decent living off of it. So I did. No sob story here.” (Marco bursts out laughing)

@richdesire says: hiiii marco *waves flirtatiously* tell me about your favorite places to go on a date? what qualities do you look for in a partner? have you ever been stood up or stood someone else up? i noticed you have a lot of tattoos, which is your most meaningful? can you step on me pls?

IG: (cackles) “Holy shit! That’s a lot of questions for you, pretty boy. I bet Tandy and I can answer a few for you.” (Marco raises a brow)

T: “I bet we could. Hmm, seeing that Marco here has never technically been on an date, I bet they’d say— (clears their throat, semi-italian accent) Ay, somewhere private, just the two of us, private chef…”

M: “It’s all in the tongue, (Tandy practices a bit) yeah, there you got it. And honestly, going out maybe trying one of those DIY classes together. I rather have something to converse about other than our jobs. (IG agrees) Qualities in a partner, well patience is one, someone I can hold a conversation with is two. Besides that, I’m not really sure.”

IG: “You want someone to vibe with, nothing wrong with that, boyyo.” (puts an arm around Marco)

M: “I stood up a crowd at a pub. It wasn’t intentional or anything, I was awful sick.” (Tandy cringes) “Yeah, I haven’t eaten pancakes since. About the tattoos, most are tokens for special moments. I’ve got one for the first mixtape I made, another one for my first gig, one for my best mate Hanni…the others are random shit Hanni and my mates thought were cool.”

T: “Is this unicorn one of them?” (Marco smirks)

IG: “You got a unicorn? Let me see!”

M: “Oh, and the thing about stepping on you. If it’s alright with you, I rather we just exchange numbers.”

@/anon says: What do you guys think about MC’s and their ex in the villa, together?

T: “It’s a bunch of rubbish. They’re basically living in Suresh’s shadow. It’s f***ing ridiculous. Like give them a break. So they were ready to propose, really scary shit. Get over yourselves.”

IG: “It’s bound to be awkward for anyone trying to go after either one of them, but if you’re gonna let the ex get in the way, why are you even here? Shoot your shot or get out of my way. I had hope for Finny boy, but he was just all talk.” (Marco nods)

M: “Why sweat it? He doesn’t even have the balls to actually apologize. All MC wants is a someone reliable, who can take things as they come. And I’ve got a feeling we’re doing a lot better than everyone else in that villa right now.”

@/anon says: If you guys had the choice to couple up with someone, who would it be?

IG: "Before the last episode, I’d have said Finn or MC. Now, it’s just MC."

T: "A bit controversial, but Dana. Maybe, MC, but I need to see whether they’re into their ex or not."

M: "Don’t know— I want to say MC. But, if things had to go in a different direction, Kat. No I’m not explaining what I mean by different direction."

stay tuned for more beach hut confessions for and feel free to once again, submit your asks to the bombshells. either way, i'm putting them in the hot seat.

[bloody-bee-tea]

I’m seeing someone

One moment Jiang Cheng’s evening is going fine and in the next his heart is torn to shreds, and all it takes are three words.

“I’m seeing someone,” Nie Mingjue quietly says as he pushes his food around on his plate and Jiang Cheng freezes up completely.

“Oh,” he breathes out, unable to lift his eyes from Nie Mingjue’s senseless movement of his chopsticks.

“Is that—are you okay with that?” Nie Mingjue asks him hesitantly and Jiang Cheng flinches at the question.

Is he—how can Nie Mingjue even ask that of him?

Jiang Cheng tries to bite down the desperate laugh that wants to bubble up and he tries to silence his mind—of course this would happen, he’s never enough, it’s a wonder Nie Mingjue held out for so long anyway—before he plasters a smile to his face.

He just hopes Nie Mingjue doesn’t notice the tears in his eyes or the trembling of his lips.

Jiang Cheng shouldn’t have worried about that, he realizes when he tries to look at Nie Mingjue, because Nie Mingjue is not even looking at him. He’s keeping his eyes down as if he’s expecting Jiang Cheng to lash into him and Jiang Cheng wonders if that would be a more appropriate reaction to this revelation.

“Are you—” Jiang Cheng starts but of course his voice breaks half way through the sentence, so he swallows and tries again. “Are you going to break up with me?”

He’s not sure what answer he wants to hear here, but his hands shake in anticipation nonetheless.

“What? No of course not!” Nie Mingjue immediately rushes out and despite everything Jiang Cheng is relieved.

He’ll have to deal with the fact that Nie Mingjue found someone he loves more, but at least he’s not discarding Jiang Cheng entirely. At least he still wants him close.

“Okay then,” Jiang Cheng whispers, his eyes burning with tears and he finds that he’s not hungry at all anymore.

It had to happen sooner or later—everyone grows tired of Jiang Cheng after a while—but Jiang Cheng had thought they were doing well.

It hasn’t been long since he moved in with Nie Mingjue and he thought he was doing a decent job at supporting Nie Mingjue after his father was murdered but of course he was lacking somewhere.

He was always lacking something after all.

“Alright,” Nie Mingjue says just as quietly and it seems like he isn’t all that hungry anymore either, but they stay at the table, sitting in silence, until long after their food has gone cold.

~*~*~

The knowledge that Nie Mingjue is seeing someone else besides Jiang Cheng sits like a heavy weight in his stomach at all times of the day. There’s not a single moment where Jiang Cheng doesn’t feel like he’s being crushed under it and he wonders if this is really easier than simply breaking up with Nie Mingjue.

But when he thinks about that, thinks about his days without Nie Mingjue, it feels even worse than this. At least like this he still has part of him. It’s better than nothing.

And besides; Nie Mingjue was quick in his answer that he didn’t want to break up with Jiang Cheng. That has to mean something, right? Even if Jiang Cheng alone is no longer enough for him.

Jiang Cheng laughs at his own stupid, foolish thoughts, because of course it only means that Nie Mingjue got used to having him around, that he’s not ready for another big change in his life and Jiang Cheng is sure that he’s simply living on borrowed time here.

Nie Mingjue will realize soon enough that the other person can give him so much more, that Jiang Cheng is useless and a burden and then Jiang Cheng won’t even have him anymore.

It’s not something he’s looking forward to.

~*~*~

Nie Mingjue insists on telling him whenever he goes to meet the other person. Jiang Cheng wonders if he’s doing this on purpose to remind Jiang Cheng time and time again that he’s lacking, that he’s no longer enough to make Nie Mingjue happy, and whenever Nie Mingjue leans down and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head and then tells him that he’ll be back in two hours it feels like he’s cutting Jiang Cheng wide open.

And yet Jiang Cheng is always there when Nie Mingjue comes back.

He’s too weak to leave and protect himself.

~*~*~

“Hey, are you okay?” Nie Huaisang asks him on the rare occasion that Jiang Cheng agrees to meet with him and Jiang Cheng can’t help the bitter scoff he lets out at that.

“I don’t know,” he then admits in a rare burst of honesty, simply because he’s too tired to lie to Nie Huaisang.

He’s already lying to Nie Mingjue on a daily basis; every time Nie Mingjue asks him if he’s okay, Jiang Cheng lies straight to his face and he finds that he’s too exhausted to do the same to his friend.

“What’s wrong?” Nie Huaisang asks, and he has to know, right?

Surely he has to know that Nie Mingjue is cheating on him.

Is it even cheating if Jiang Cheng knows about it and kind of allows it to happen? Is there even a word for that?

“A-Cheng?” Nie Huaisang asks, the concern clear in his voice when Jiang Cheng doesn’t answer him and Jiang Cheng keeps his eyes on his hands.

“You know, right? That Mingjue is—is seeing someone?” he finally breathes out and it feels like Jiang Cheng’s entire being is bracing for impact.

“Of course I know,” Nie Huaisang immediately says and he sounds happy about it.

Jiang Cheng wants to burrow himself into the ground and never come out again.

“I introduced them,” Nie Huaisang says, and now his voice is proud.

He’s proud about ruining the best thing that ever happened to Jiang Cheng.

“I see,” Jiang Cheng breathes out and he’s itching with the need to get away, to scrub that knowledge out of his brain, but it’s there now and it already has its hooks in the most tender parts of Jiang Cheng.

Not even Nie Huaisang approves of him and Jiang Cheng thought they are friends.

“It’s helping, isn’t it?” Nie Huaisang asks and he doesn’t seem to notice that Jiang Cheng feels like the floor is crumbling under him. “Don’t you think da-ge looks so much better and happier lately?”

Jiang Cheng opens his mouth—he’s not sure if to scream or to answer Nie Huaisang—but no sound comes out.

It feels like he can’t breathe.

“I have to go,” he gets out with much difficulty and he doesn’t give Nie Huaisang enough time to answer. “Bye.”

Jiang Cheng isn’t proud of the fact that he’s running away from his only friend but if he stays he’s going to break down.

And that is something he can absolutely not do. He’s not strong enough to build himself up again afterwards.

~*~*~

Don’t you think da-ge looks so much better and happier lately?

The words rattle around Jiang Cheng’s brain ever since that day he met Nie Huaisang and he can’t make them shut up.

He noticed it too, lately, that Nie Mingjue seems to be in a better mood every week. There are still bad days, of course, so that new person is not a miracle worker, but overall Nie Mingjue does seem happier.

And doesn’t that hurt like hell.

Jiang Cheng wonders what it is he does with that other person that can be achieved in less than the two hours Nie Mingjue meets with them weekly but he finds that he can’t stomach to imagine anything.

The only thing he really can think of them doing is having sex and Jiang Cheng wouldn’t even be able to hold that against Nie Mingjue.

Jiang Cheng knows that his sex-drive is not quite as high as Nie Mingjue’s and while he never thought it to be a problem—Nie Mingjue certainly never said anything like that—maybe that’s all it is.

Maybe it’s just sex.

That—still wouldn’t make it okay, but that would at least be much easier to bear than to have to think about Nie Mingjue kissing someone else and telling them he loves them.

That one is the thought that hurts Jiang Cheng the most.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng is on the couch, trying his best to look like he’s engrossed in his book, so that Nie Mingjue won’t want to disturb him and say goodbye to him.

It’s bad enough that he keeps a regular schedule with his—lover? Affair? Partner? Jiang Cheng still has no clue how to refer to that other person and he knows it shouldn’t bother him that much but it does—but he really doesn’t need to rub it into Jiang Cheng’s face.

It already feels like Jiang Cheng is poking at a still raw wound whenever he thinks about how Nie Mingjue might call that other person when he talks about them to his friends or Nie Huaisang. He doesn’t need Nie Mingjue to make it worse.

Lost in his thoughts, Jiang Cheng allowed his eyes to wander and Nie Mingjue takes it for the invitation is so very much was not meant to be.

“Bye,” he says as he leans down to kiss Jiang Cheng’s forehead, his lips lingering for a moment, and Jiang Cheng’s heart shrivels when he thinks about how Nie Mingjue is going to kiss someone else with them in a few minutes. “I’ll be back in two hours.”

“Can you—not tell me? When you go—do that?” Jiang Cheng croaks out and he’s surprised at his own bravery.

“What?” Nie Mingjue says and he jerks away from Jiang Cheng as if he slapped him.

It’s kind of unfair, Jiang Cheng thinks, and drops his gaze.

“I don’t—want to know,” he gets out before the tears choke him up and even without looking up at Nie Mingjue he can tell that he’s angry.

And he has every right to be. Jiang Cheng just ruined the delicate balance they were maintaining.

“What the hell, Wanyin? You said you are okay with this! You accepted it!” Nie Mingjue almost yells at him and Jiang Cheng closes his eyes.

He feels like he’s going to shatter if he even so much as breathes, but he knows it’s inevitable now. Jiang Cheng ruined it and Nie Mingjue will tell him to finally get lost.

Maybe it’s better that it all ends. Jiang Cheng is tired.

“How could I ever be okay with this?” Jiang Cheng asks him as he scrubs a hand over his face. “But I have to accept it now, don’t I?” A desperate laugh bubbles up from his throat. “There’s nothing else for me to do, after all,” he whispers as he leans over, trying to protect the remnants of his heart even though he knows it’s futile.

There’s nothing left to protect after this.

“So you don’t want me to be better? Is that it?” Nie Mingjue shoots back and he sounds angry now.

Jiang Cheng almost forgot that Nie Mingjue could get this angry, but right now it only fuels Jiang Cheng’s own anger. It’s better than the despair trying to swallow him whole.

“Well, if being with me is so fucking horrible to you, then maybe we should break up after all!” he yells back and his voice rings out in the living-room.

The silence that follows is almost deafening.

“What?” Nie Mingjue whispers and there’s confusion written all over his face. “Why is this about our relationship all of a sudden?”

“All of a sudden,” Jiang Cheng repeats and he clenches his teeth when his eyes start to burn, but this time he’s not strong enough to hold back the tears. “You’re literally about to go out to meet your—whatever they are to you. How is this not about our relationship if you need to date someone on the side?”

Jiang Cheng would like to pretend that he’s strong and that his voice didn’t break on that, but the last words almost crumble in his mouth. The only good thing about this is that there are enough tears flowing down his face that Nie Mingjue is just a blur.

At least he doesn’t have to see him clearly while Nie Mingjue breaks up with him.

“Date someone on the—Wanyin, what the hell are you talking about?” Nie Mingjue asks him and suddenly he’s close, so close, and he’s putting his hands on Jiang Cheng’s arms and it’s enough to break Jiang Cheng.

“Please don’t leave me,” he sobs out and fists his hands in Nie Mingjue’s shirt. “Please, whatever it is that they—I can change. I can do better, I can be whatever you need, just, please,” he begs and he’s too terrified by the prospect of losing Nie Mingjue to feel ashamed.

“My heart,” Nie Mingjue whispers as he pulls Jiang Cheng into his arms and it only makes Jiang Cheng cry harder.

He doesn’t know how long he spends in Nie Mingjue’s arms but when his sobs finally subside he’s exhausted and he feels very, very small.

“I don’t mean to trap you in this, to force you to stay with me,” Jiang Cheng still forces himself to say as he pushes Nie Mingjue away. “Don’t listen to me. Just—I need you to choose. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Wanyin, I’m seeing a therapist,” Nie Mingjue tells him and Jiang Cheng goes very still. “I’m not dating someone else and I’m not cheating on you. I’m going to therapy, once a week.”

The words don’t really make sense to Jiang Cheng, so he stays still, hoping that their true meaning will hit him sooner or later, but the words stay the same.

“What?” he gets out and Nie Mingjue pulls him down on the couch, tucking him into his side.

“I’m going to therapy once a week. A-Sang has been going for a while, even before our father was—before he died and he recommended her to me. I’ve been going to see her for a few weeks now,” Nie Mingjue explains, but Jiang Cheng can feel that he’s shaking.

Or maybe that’s Jiang Cheng himself.

“I don’t understand,” Jiang Cheng finally admits and Nie Mingjue crushes him to his chest.

“Did you think I was cheating on you all this time?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng blinks.

“You said you’re seeing someone. You couldn’t even meet my eyes,” he eventually tells him and Nie Mingjue freezes.

“You thought I was cheating on you from that day on?”

“Is it really cheating if you tell me about it, though?” Jiang Cheng wonders, because that is still bothering him to no end, that he doesn’t know how to define this.

“Wanyin!” Nie Mingjue sounds close to tears himself and it’s confusing enough that Jiang Cheng pulls away from him.

“What’s wrong?” Jiang Cheng wants to know, and he’s distantly aware that maybe the only one who isn’t right is him.

“You’re asking me that? Why didn’t you break up with me if you thought I was seeing someone else?”

“You said you didn’t want to,” Jiang Cheng whispers, remembering that dinner so clearly.

It was the last time his world had been whole and good.

“If you thought this the whole time—” Nie Mingjue trails off with a shake of his head. “How could you be okay with that?”

“I thought if I say I’m not—you would leave,” Jiang Cheng admits. “You were already—I already thought I wasn’t enough. If I didn’t allow you this, what would keep you at my side? At least like this I had some of you. I always knew that this day would come, after all. You’re too good, and I’m just—not,” he finishes weakly, unable to meet Nie Mingjue’s eyes.

His mind is still reeling but Jiang Cheng is aware that pointing out his own flaws right now might not be the best thing to do.

“Wanyin, you’re my entire heart and I love you,” Nie Mingjue tells him, pulling him in to give him a soft kiss. “How could I ever leave you?”

“It seems to be easy enough,” Jiang Cheng says, trying not to think about Wei Wuxian or his parents, or even his sister but it’s always hard.

“It’s not,” Nie Mingjue says with a shake of his head. “And I am not going to leave you. I love you and I can’t even imagine seeing someone else.”

“Except your therapist,” Jiang Cheng weakly says, aware that it’s much, much to early for a joke about this, but making inappropriate jokes is the only thing he knows how to do sometimes.

“Except her,” Nie Mingjue agrees and brushes a kiss over Jiang Cheng’s cheek. “My heart, I think—maybe you should go see someone, too,” Nie Mingjue haltingly says and Jiang Cheng jerks away from him.

His mother never spoke kindly of therapists.

“I—” can’t, he wants to say, but the words die in his throat.

It’s not like anyone is really stopping him anymore and it seems to be doing Nie Mingjue some good. And Nie Huaisang, too, given that he’s been going for a while now too apparently.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” he finally admits, because he knows he’s broken enough to make anyone despair.

It’s still a wonder Nie Mingjue even looked at him twice.

“That’s not for you to know but for you and your therapist to work out together,” Nie Mingjue softly tells him and Jiang Cheng thinks that it sounds like the most terrifying thing he has ever heard.

It also sounds like something that might be possible, if he doesn’t have to do it alone.

“Would I be going to yours, too?” he asks, his voice thin and scared and Nie Mingjue shrugs.

“I don’t know. She wasn’t too happy to take me on as well, since she’s treating Huaisang already, but we can ask her. I’m sure one meeting will be okay. And if she says she can’t take you on, I bet she has a recommendation.”

“I don’t—I can’t go alone,” Jiang Cheng says, because he knows he could never be strong enough to make that first step.

“I’ll accompany you to the first meeting,” Nie Mingjue agrees. “But she might kick me out halfway through,” he then adds with a small smile and while that is still a terrifying prospect, it also makes sense.

“Not now,” Jiang Cheng finally says, and while he sees the regret and worry on Nie Mingjue’s face, Jiang Cheng is not strong enough to see a therapist immediately. Or even this week. “Until half an hour ago I thought you were dating someone else. I need—some time first,” Jiang Cheng weakly finishes and understanding washes over Nie Mingjue’s face.

“Of course,” he agrees immediately and pulls Jiang Cheng back into his arms. “I love you. I wouldn’t cheat on you,” he says, and Jiang Cheng wonders how often he has to hear this before he can accept that these last weeks were just a huge misunderstanding.

“I love you,” Jiang Cheng gives back and for the first time since Nie Mingjue told him he’s seeing someone those words don’t cut him open.

Jiang Cheng is still scared and confused and overwhelmed, but Nie Mingjue is a warm solid presence at his side and Jiang Cheng does breathe easier now that he knows that he’s not living on borrowed time here and that Nie Mingjue loves him still.

For today, that is enough.

And no matter what the next day, or even the next week brings, Jiang Cheng thinks that he might just be able to do it if he has Nie Mingjue by his side.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[euphoriyoongi]

Yoongi Historical au/ Royalty au

prompt requested: number 7:

I’m secretly in love with you but you never seemed to give me the time of day but you all of a sudden tell me you love me and my only thought was to make out with you.

Summary:

As the daughter of the military director, you’ve always had a liking towards the crown prince, Yoongi. Now, many years later, as your secretly in love with him, he’s secretly in love with you.

Pairing: prince!yoongi x reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Genre: royalty! au, historical au, friends to lovers

Warnings: none.

_________________________________________________

Joseon Era.

As a child, you dreamed to marry Yoongi. Too bad he was way out of your league.

Not look wise, but rank wise.

He was the only son of the king, heir to the throne. Now you were decently high up as well, being the daughter of the military head, but not even close to being able to even dream about him.

You didn't have a chance. Not even a thought. It's not like he would even like you back anyway, given how he was never one to look into your eyes when you'd speak to him, as if talking to you wasn't important anyway.

As you both aged together, you've noticed him always walk around the palace without any guards, always sneaking around to be alone. He'd never want any attention drawn to him, and if you would wave your hand to say hi, well, chances are that he would walk right past you.

It was hard, as the years flew by and you were still left with the heart wrenching feeling of a one-sided love. It was long enough to call it that, since you have been into him since you laid eyes on him.

Your father and the king were very good friends, and would often bring you to visit him whenever they'd have something to chat about. So you would sit off the the side with Yoongi, who never seemed to be able to replace the frown on his face with a smile.

The only time you had ever seen a smile on his face was when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, only for him to drop it as soon as you turned towards him.

Now in your mid twenties, your father is begging you to marry. You are at the age where you should have at least two kids now. For you to be single and constantly training to become a good fighter just like your father was, you didn't believe you had time for children. And anyway, ever since you turned fifteen to now, you used the excuse that you wished to marry when you met the one.

Your father now tried to bring up the conversation of marriage at this moment, and you stood pin straight, facing the target ahead of you with a bow and arrow in hand, ready to shoot. "But y/n, you really have to think about how important it is. You'll be thirty years old in no time!" He exclaimed, and as he slammed his foot down in irritation, you let the bow slide through your fingers, releasing it only for it to hit the corner of the target.

Groaning, you drop the bow to your side. "Father, I have more important things to be doing." You hummed, giving him the side eye as he stared at you with worry. You reached up to dry a patch of sweat on your forehead.

You used to tell him how much you wanted to marry the prince as a kid, but now it seemed too childish to use as an excuse. She knew she would never be able to marry him anyway, since he probably would have to be married to someone specific.

Yoongi was quite the character. He rarely spoke, but always wanted to leave the palace and go into the town, where his friends would live. He had a select few, and would also run into you as you went on errands.

Whenever he'd spot you, either in the palace or town, he'd stare at you for a moment and look away, almost telling himself not to even pay attention to you. It always made you upset, making you wonder why he would never pay attention to you. It's not like he didn't know you.

You lived your whole life pining over him. From the way he slightly dragged his feet across the dirt, to the way he would always wear a large hat to hide his face whenever he'd leave the palace, you loved him. He was the person you wished to marry even after all these years.

It seemed childish, yes. But if you were to marry and bear children, it would have to be to him. And if it wasn't him, well, it was no one. But your dad didn't need to know that information. "Listen, father, I will marry when I find the one." You said to him, lifting up your bow to shoot another arrow. "Just give me time."

He seemed to understand that you were trying to focus, and stepped back a few feet. Hearing him sigh, you gave him a side eye. "Okay okay. I'm sorry. I just want the best for you." He smiled, giving you a little bow in respect. "I'm off to meet the king for lunch. If you would like to pay your regards to him, let me know."

The arrow slipped through your hand again, now completely missing the target board all together. "Will the prince be there?" You didn't mean to ask this, but you couldn't help it. You haven't seen Yoongi for weeks, and you wished to see his beautiful face again. Would it be so vain to just..use the king as an excuse to see him?

Now, the king loved you. He wished Yoongi was as dedicated as you were, and always asked to see you when your father would visit. You had wished that he would ask you to marry his son, but knowing that it would make no impact with the kingdom, it was out of the question. He was probably just happy with his son having a friend of sorts.

Your father let a smirk reach his lips. "Hm. I'm sure he would be, if he's not galavanting in the village or anything."

Maybe she should stop by to greet the king. "I'll come with you." You said, smiling without paying attention. "I'm sure he'd be happy to see me."

Your father laughed. "I'm sure someone else would be happier."

"Greetings, your majesty." You bowed along side of your father as you stood in front of the king, who was sitting under the pavilion.

Smiling, the king beckoned you both to come under the shade of the pavilion.

Sitting next to him was Yoongi, who looked bored out of his mind. His gaze didn't even reach you, and you looked away from him and back to the king as you walked up the stairs. So much for coming here to see him.

The meal went on, your dad chatting with the king and talking about marriage. You pretty much tuned the whole thing out, given that you say next to Yoongi, who scooted over in the opposite direction of you.

Ouch. Now you knew you really didn't have a chance with him.

"I'm surprised you're sitting down with us, my son." The king bellowed, smiling at Yoongi who sat to his right, you sitting next to Yoongi. He huffed and picked up his utensils to start eating. "Usually you're out in the village—undercover I hope."

Yoongi hummed, not even answering with a word, and continued to eat, and the king brought his attention elsewhere. He faced your dad, smiling. "So, I'm surprised your daughter isn't married yet! My my, what a beauty."

You glanced over to Yoongi, who still stared down at his food. "Yeah, she has a few men lined up to marry her." Your father laughed, making the king chuckle as well. Yoongi finally looked up when he heard those words, now paying full attention to the conversation as he gripped his silk gown tightly in his fist.

"Oh I always wondered why a beautiful girl like her was still unwed." The king smiled over at you, and glanced at his son, who seemed to turn a bit red. "Im sure the wedding will be soon then, eh?"

Your dad hummed as he drank some rice wine. "Ah, yes. Whoever is her husband is sure one lucky guy."

"Why would be be lucky?" Yoongi scoffed, sipping his drink. "She's not even that pretty."

Silence. You nearly dropped your cup as he said this, staring at him with wide eyes.

Your dad cleared his throat and set down his cup. "Well at least you spoke today. I haven't heard your voice in ages..." he carried off, seeming offended by Yoongi's choice of words that were against his beloved daughter.

The king glared at his son. "Yoongi, that is no way to talk to our guests." He then looked over at you, noticing your dumbstruck look. "Please forgive him, he doesn't really socialize well."

Yoongi scoffed again, now slamming his cup against the table. "Why are you guys even pestering her about marriage, anyway? She has no chance with anyone other than—" he cut himself off, looking at you with a solemn expression out of all of his anger. When he noticed your eyes droop away from him and down the the table, he sighed and didn't finish what he was going to say.

Everyone was quiet. The sudden outburst from Yoongi put everyone off, even his father. As Yoongi glanced from your dad to you, you had enough of this degrading. Even though he was the one you dreamed to be with, it wasn't right for him to say those things about you.

You stood up and bowed. "I will take my leave." You said, looking to the king and to your father. "Thank you, your majesty."

He signaled oh that it was okay to leave, and you nearly ran down the steps as if to get away from the embarrassment. How did you not know that Yoongi felt so strongly for you in the most opposite way you wanted? What was the reason for him to hate you—

"Y/n!" You heard a voice yell behind you, the smack of footsteps getting louder and louder. You had stopped in your tracks, standing next to your favorite tree in the palace, the beautiful cherry blossom.

It was Yoongi behind you. He had reached you, now bent over and out of breath as if he just ran a mile. "Ah, you're fast."

You turned around with your arms across your chest. "What do you want?" You looked at him in the eye, and he stared back, nearly begging for forgiveness.

He sighed, kicking a rock that was near his feet. "I uh..." he carried off, now not being able to look at you.

No matter how mean he was to you, he always looked stunningly beautiful. His long dark hair was pulled up, his silky gown matching his hair. He had quite the scar across his cheek, but it made him more attractive in her eyes. As he stumbled on his words, you took the chance to speak. “Listen, your highness, I don’t what to hear your explanation.” You seethe, upset about how he feels towards you. “I don’t know what you were trying to say back there, but I got the message. Clearly.” You growled, turning away from him as you kept your tears in check.

Yoongi reached his arm out to touch your shoulder, making you jump. “What? What are you doing?” You asked, looking down at the ground once again, seeing the rock that he kicked was now near your feet.

“I just…” he carried off again, unable to speak the words on his mind.

You needed to get out of here before the tears began to fall. You were the daughter of the military head, how dare you cry over a boy. At least that’s what you tell yourself. You turned around quickly. “No, your highness, I’m not going to stand here and listen to how ugly I am. How I’m never going to be married because of my looks, how I—“

“I love you.” He sputtered out, looking anywhere but your eyes. “I’ve loved you since you taught me how to sword fight…and when you told me my scar was beautiful..” he carried on, now looking into your eyes with a small smile on his lips. “I didn’t mean any of that stuff back there, I was just upset to picture you..getting married to someone else.”

You were shocked. You stood there, your eyes wide open, standing in front of the man you always wished had feelings for you. And now he’s spilling his guts about how he loved you and—well, what the hell?

He stared into your eyes with worry. You weren’t saying anything back, and just when he was going to say something else, you leaned forward and let your lips touch his, out in the open courtyard for anyone to see.

You kissed him with all of the emotions you held back for as long as you could remember, and it startled him. He didn’t kiss back immediately, but as you pushed your body into his and gripped the back of his head to deepen it, he pushed his face towards you and grabbed onto your hips, pulling them flush against his.

His lips tasted like the cherry blossom tea that he drank, and his hands felt like ecstasy as they nearly tore through your clothing. His touch was like a drug you so desperately needed, and the taste of him made you feel even higher.

All that time you dreamed of kissing him could never live up to this moment, and when you pulled away, your hands still cradling his face, his still resting on your hips, he stared into your eyes and began to chuckle. You laughed back, resting your forehead on his.

“So,” he trailed on, his smile visible. “I’ll take that as an I love you too..?”

[wiypt-writes]

You Cut A Mean Rug, Doll Face

Bucky Barnes One Shot

Summary: It’s no secret that Bucky Barnes has women falling at his feet, but it’s very rarely the other way round. He’s the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, well according to Steve anyway. So, when you find him hiding to avoid a certain Private’s advances, it amuses you no end…until she shows up and you find yourself offering to be his ‘Fake Date’ for Stark’s upcoming USO Gala Dance.

Fake Dating in the middle of a war…what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Bad language words. Smut. (NSFW 18+)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N:  So this is written as part of @anika-ann​’s 1111 Follower Challenge. Congratulations darling! My prompt was Fake Dating.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

 **********

“Hey, Steve.” You greeted the blonde super soldier as you walked into the little make-shift kitchen, deep in the underground London SSR HQ.

“Afternoon, Agent.” He nodded and you rolled your eyes, picking a piece of fluff off your khaki green uniform jacket.

“Seriously, after everything we’ve pulled together we’re still at agent?” You raised an eyebrow drawing a soft chuckle from the man in front of you as he poured a coffee into one of the tin mugs on offer, holding it out to you.

“Sorry, force of habit. Y/N. That better?”

“Much.” You nodded, taking the mug with a thanks, pulling a face as you took a sip. “God, all the technology we have and I still can’t get a decent cup of Joe.”

“Maybe you should have a word with Stark.” Steve shrugged. “He seems to be able to lay his hands on most things, rationing be dammed.”

“Well, you’re the man with the plan and he’s the man that can.” A smirk pulled at your face as you watched Steve fight the urge to roll his eyes. “Anyway, where’s Barnes? Colonel Phillips is riding my ass about a report he hasn’t filed. Keeps moaning on about us being unable to run strategic operations if we don’t actually do any strategizing.”

At that Steve’s face broke into a grin. “He’s hiding.”

“Hiding?” You frowned. “Chester isn’t that scary, he’s a pussy cat if you figure out how to make him purr.”

“Okay there are so many things wrong with what you just said that I’m not even going to go into.” Steve snorted and you flashed him a grin as he continued. “He ain’t hiding from Phillips, he’s hiding from Private Lorraine.”

“Why?” You paused, mug hovering an inch or so from your mouth.

“Well according to Stark who heard from Jones who heard from-“

“Yeah, yeah, skip to the interesting bit about why Barnes his hiding like the cowardly lion” You cut him off and he raised his eyebrows, his smirk growing wider.

“She wants him to ask her to that USO dance gala thing Stark is hosting.”

At that you felt the heat in your neck, jealousy, at the thought of the blue-eyed solider you’d been harbouring a crush on for months, like some love sick teenager, dancing with someone else. You carefully held Steve’s eyes and licked your lips, hoping you hadn’t given yourself away too much.

“Of course she does.” You shrugged, clearing your throat. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Why is he hiding?”

“He doesn’t want to go with her.” Steve shrugged, taking another sip of his drink and this time you did absolutely nothing to stop the grin that spread across your face.

“How come?”

At that Steve hesitated for a moment before he popped a shoulder again, slightly avoiding your eye line. "No idea."

You knew he was lying, he was notoriously bad at it, but before you could call him out, a deep voice spoke from the doorway.

"Sure your Ma told you it was rude to talk about people behind their backs, Stevie." Bucky grumbled as he walked into the room.

"Yeah, and I'm sure yours told you it was rude to do a lot of things that you still do anyway." Steve shot back and Bucky merely rolled his eyes, walking to the coffee pot and helping himself. 

"Well, I’m astounded." You looked at Bucky as he turned around, leaning slightly against the small units that lined the room. "James Buchanan Barnes is fanning a woman away."

"Yeah, I don’t make a habit of it, Doll Face." He eyed you shrewdly over his mug.

"Still, never thought I'd see the day." You hummed, sipping your drink.

Bucky rolled his eyes and gestured with his mug towards Steve. "Now you sound like him."

"So, humour me, Barnes. What is it about her that’s making you run for the hills?"

Bucky hesitated for a moment before he winkled his nose and answered you. "She’s not my type."

"Really? I thought every woman was your type." 

At that, Steve gave a chuckle. "She's got you there, Buck. I don't think I saw you without one before you shipped off."

"Shut up, Steve." Bucky bit back before he gave a low groan. "She's just..."

"Just what?" You scoffed. "Tall, blonde with big, come-to-bed eyes and pouty red lips? What's not to fall over? Dum Dum follows her around like a dog."

"Sweetheart, Dum Dum would probably chase a pig wearing lipstick if he thought he had a chance." Bucky looked at you his eyebrow raised and you heard Steve give a little snort of laughter. You turned slowly to him, and his eyes widened a little as you narrowed your eyes.

"What's your excuse?"

"His excuse?" Bucky paused, mug poised at his lips as Steve began to flounder over his words, a pink flush spreading into his cheeks.

“Yeah, he kissed her.” You informed and Buck gave a loud groan, placing his mug down on the side. "Peggy caught them, big time."

"She kissed me." Steve protested and at that Bucky sighed. 

"What has my life become? Seriously?" He shook his head, his eyes flicking between you and Steve. "I’m hiding because I don’t wanna go dancing with some broad whilst this punks beating ‘em off with a stick."

"Shield." You corrected as Steve made an exasperated noise in his throat.

"I’m in a nightmare, right?" Bucky finished.

"’Fraid not, Buckaroo." You placed your now empty mug besides his on the wooden counter. "But I suggest that you get your report to me on the Dresden raid or you really will be in a bad dream. Colonel Phillips wants them pronto and I'm not taking the flack because you're too lazy to do it."

Bucky groaned. "How am I supposed to think about that with all this other shit going on?"

"Nice to see you have your priorities straight." Steve scoffed and Bucky glared at him but before he could reply, a loud girly laugh filled the kitchen and you saw Bucky still.

"There you are!" Private Lorraine spoke and you exchanged a glance with Steve, a look of utter glee spreading across his face at his friend's discomfort. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, Sergeant Barnes."

"Now what on Earth would give you that idea?" You quipped. As usual, she completely ignored you and watched as Bucky turned to look at her.

"Well, you found me." He nodded, a false smile spreading across his face.

"Yeah, I did. So, err, this dance, do you have a date or..."

Bucky took a deep breath, "well, the thing is..."

"Yes, he does." You blurted out, before you could stop yourself. You stepped forward and slipped your hand into his, ignoring the shocked look he gave you as you stood by his side. "He's going with me."

"You?" Lorraine looked at you, her eyebrows shooting up so high they almost disappeared into her hairline.

"Yes, me." You smiled. "So, you'll have to find someone else to go with. I think Duggan might be free."

"Well, suppose there's no accounting for taste." The blonde woman in front of you looked you up and down and you bristled under her glare, your nostrils flaring angrily. Sure, you might not have her model looks, hell, you might not even be conventionally pretty in some eyes, but you sure weren’t going to make her let you feel like shit. You'd been brought up by a loving family who made you realise your worth and that despite what anyone else said, you were just as good as them. You continued to hold her gaze and eventually she licked her lips and looked away.

"Well, erm, that's..." she clicked her tongue against her cheek, before deciding to cut her losses and she left the room.

The three of you stood in silence before Bucky turned to look at you, a smirk spreading across his face. "You, are a genius!" He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you swallowed slightly, feeling the heat in your neck. "I owe you, big time."

"Yeah, you do." You shrugged. "You can start by doing that damned report. And then you’re buying me a drink at the Gala, seeing as we're, you know, fake dating."

"You got it, Doll." Bucky saluted, flashing you a wink.

"Fake dating?" Steve muttered, and you turned to look at him as he shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. "I've heard it all now."

You cleared you throat, and removed your hand from where it was still in Bucky’s and swallowed. "I need to get going. That report, Barnes. Don’t forget."

"Anything for you, Darlin'." Bucky grinned.

You gave him a last little smile, and then turned leaving the room letting out an inward groan.

What the hell had you just got yourself into?

****

“Why did I do this?” You sighed, looking at your reflection in the mirror, shaking your head.

“Because you’re sweet on him.” Peggy matter of factly replied and you shot her a look in the mirror. She gave you a knowing smirk and you sighed.

“I just felt sorry for him, okay?”

“Sorry for him?”

“Yeah, you know what she’s like, she wouldn’t leave him alone.”

“Admirable.” Peggy nodded, stepping forward so she was behind you, reaching up to fix another pin into your up do. “So what’s your master plan? Act the part tonight and break up tomorrow?”

You shrugged. “Haven’t thought that far.”

“I doubt you’ve thought at all.”  The brunette looked at you, her perfectly shaped eyebrow raising slightly.

“You know, you and Steve really are a match made in heaven.” You scoffed, stepping to the side as you smoothed down the dress you were wearing. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it traced your curves perfectly and made a nice change from the uniform you spent every day wearing. “Go take your righteous indignation and discuss it with him. That is if you’re speaking to him this week, I can never keep up.”

At that Peggy pursed her lips. “We’re not discussing me and Steve, we’re discussing you and how you’re going to get through the next however long pretending to date someone you actually want to date.”

“Well, it could be worse.” You shrugged.

“How?”

“I could be about to spend however long pretending to date someone I don’t like.”

Peggy looked at you for a second and you held her gaze, challenging her to say anything more on the matter. Eventually she merely raised her eyebrows before she turned and looked at the clock.

“We should go.”

With a deep breath you took one last glance at your reflection, grabbed the small clutch from the cot in your room and followed her out.

*****

The small dancehall in London's Soho District was packed with soldiers and civilian staff alike, and you accepted the drink offered to you by a waiter as you entered the main room, the Big Band already playing a bluesy-jazz number as background music, whilst people stood around the room, chatting. It didn’t take you long to locate Bucky. He was stood with Steve and the rest of the Howlies by the bar, all of them dressed in their best uniforms. Taking a deep breath, those pesky butterflies fluttering away in your stomach, you made your way over with Peggy and she let out an annoyed sigh as the men all blatantly looked the pair of you up and down.

“You’d think they’d never seen a woman before.” She mumbled and you scoffed out a laugh.

“Well, we’ve been running missions with them for that long maybe they’ve forgotten that we actually have boobs and a vagina.”

At that Peggy stopped to look at you, and the pair of you started to laugh.

“You are so uncouth.” She shook her head at you, as you linked your arm through hers and continued your path towards your team.

“Like I said, I’ve been in the field with these bozos for over a year, guess their bad habits are rubbing off on me.”

“Well, as long as that’s all that’s rubbing off on you.”

“Agent Carter!” Your mouth fell open in mock horror, turning to look at her as she continued facing forward, her lips quirked up at one side in a barely there smirk. “Now who’s being uncouth?”

“Ladies.” Dum-Dum greeted you with a tip of his bowler as you approached and you nodded to him, smiling before you turned to look at Bucky.

“Wow.” His eyes flicked up and down your form again, and you swallowed, a warm feeling spreading over you as his eyes took in your outfit and when his eyes finally met yours he cleared his throat and you gave him a small smile. “You err, look great. I mean, compared to how you usually look.”

At that Falsworth, Dum-Dum, Dernier, Jones and Morita all snorted as Steve let out a groan.

“Thanks. I think.” You frowned.

“No, I err…I didn’t mean it like that.” Bucky hastily began to back track as Dernier mumbled something in French, of which you caught the words ‘stupid idiot’, Jones hastily agreeing. “I just, well, it’s different to how I’ve seen you before.”

“Well a tight dress and courts ain’t exactly practical for hiking through woods and mounting stealth operations.” You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. “But for the record, you look exactly the same as you usually do.”

At that the men all roared with laughter as Bucky sighed, dropping his head. “Guess I asked for that.”

Bucky watched as you gave him a small grin, before you turned to talk to Jones, and he took the chance to observe you properly. You looked good. You always did in his eyes but tonight, you were a knock out. Your dress hugged the curves of your thighs and hips, nipping in at the waist with a neckline that showed him just enough skin to leave him imagining what it would feel like to pepper your collarbone with kisses. Your hair was set in a perfect style, your lips rouged, you looked effortlessly stylish. He swallowed, sliding his finger in between the collar of his shirt and neck in an attempt to loosen the starched material as he suddenly flushed very, very warm. He felt timid, awkward, and that in itself made him feel a strange juxtaposition of irritated and amused. Bucky Barnes didn’t get nervous around women, that was Steve’s speciality. But here he was, flapping over how best to ask you if you wanted to get a drink whilst that punk was laughing away with Agent Carter hanging off his every word.

No, this wouldn’t do.

With a small cough, Bucky cleared his throat and dropped his hand to the base of your back. “You want a drink, Doll Face?”

You smiled up at him, blinking and nodded. “Yeah, thanks Buck. A gin would be great.”

Bucky waved over the bartender, placed your orders and had just turned back to you when he spotted the woman who’d thrown him into this mess in the first place, Private Lorraine arriving with some other poor, unsuspecting soldier from the unit. Bucky didn’t know his name, not that he cared.

“Hey,” he nudged you and you turned to face him and he jerked his head, “guess this fake date worked.”

You followed his eye-line and visibly bristled a little bit before you shook your head and shrugged. “Poor bastard.”

“You really don’t like her, do you?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Just a hunch.” Bucky smirked, passing you your drink, before he gestured with his arm for you to follow the group who were now moving away from the bar to find a table. “After you, Darlin’.”

*****

You had to admit, you’d had your reservations but as it turned out, the night was pretty fun. Whilst you’d been hyper aware of Bucky besides you, you felt reasonably relaxed. His arm had dropped round your shoulder at one point, pulling you in for a friendly hug, the way he often did out in the field, and you’d simply enjoyed being as close to him as you were.

Because, fake or not, a chance to date Bucky Barnes didn’t come along that often.

It was a couple of hours later when you both found yourself at the table with Steve who made an excuse he needed the bathroom and left. Bucky snorted as Steve headed across the room and shook his head.

“Bathroom, he must think we’re stupid. He’s gone to find Peggy.”

“Aww, don’t. I think it’s cute.” You smiled, turning to look at Bucky. “Don’t you? I mean we’re fighting a war and in the middle of all this bloodshed and horror, he’s found someone who…” you trailed off as Bucky was watching you, a strange expression on his face. “Or not…am I talking nonsense?”

“No, it’s not that.” Bucky shook his head. “I just, guess I never thought about it that way. But you’re right. Suppose none of us know how long we have left, especially at the moment.”

He trailed off, his eyes scanning yours for something, but what you weren’t sure. You felt your cheeks warm and you glanced down at your hands, before you turned to watch the dancing going on around you. It was crazy when you stopped to contemplate that, in the midst of all the devastation and destruction, life was still going on. Bucky was right, your time could be up in a flash at any point.

“Well, seeing as you put it so eloquently,” you looked at Bucky, jerking your head to the dance floor. “Wanna show me how it’s done in Brooklyn?”

“Do you mind if we don’t?” Bucky shook his head and your heart sank. “I just…well, I…”

“No, you don’t need to explain.” You hastily back tracked. “I just thought it might keep up appearances, that’s all.”

There was an awkward silence, Bucky studying you for a moment with an expression you really couldn’t place and then, well, it all became too much.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You made the same excuse Steve had given moments ago, and before Bucky could say anything, you rose from your seat and walked away, as dignified as you could, trying not to let the tears that were stinging your eyes fall down your face.

*****

Bucky watched you walk away from him, your movements graceful as you headed round the tables placed around the edge of the dance floor, taking care to avoid the groups of guests as you went. He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. This was a mess. It had started out as a bit of fun, you helping him out, because that's what you did, but he'd been a wreck all night. Frankly, being in such close proximity to you was making his head swim.

He'd wanted to dance with you, he'd really wanted to dance with you, but he didn’t trust himself because the truth was he liked you. A lot and he had done so for a while. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself to hold you on the dance floor without trying to kiss the life out of you. So he’d said no, and let you walk away, and the look of hurt on your face was now burnt into his mind. With an angry snort he stood up and stalked to the bar, signalling for another drink.

He stood there, nursing his glass for what felt like an age, seething at his own stupidity until a familiar voice cut through his murderous thoughts.

"Did HYDRA scramble your brain or something, Buck?"

"What?" Bucky's brow furrowed as he turned to look at Steve.

"You’re missing a girl's signals."

"Signals, what are you..."

"Y/N, you dolt." Steve rolled his eyes.

"What about her?"

"She likes you, has for ages."

"I don’t think so, Steve" Bucky snorted.

Steve sighed and leaned against the bar as Bucky necked his scotch. "So explain the look she had on her face as she stalked passed me before.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. "She wanted a dance, dames love dancing. I said no.”

“And why did you do that?”

Bucky took a deep breath and didn’t answer. But he knew Steve could see right through him, the punk always could.

“Buck, what exactly did you think I meant that night at the bar when we first came to England a couple of months back? About Peggy having a friend? I meant Y/N."

Bucky blinked, his mouth dropping open. "What?"

"She's sweet on you. Falsworth told me. I was trying to give you a hint."

Utter frustration lanced through Bucky's entire body and he shook his head. "How in the name of Hitler’s left ball was I supposed to understand that?"

"Well, I thought it was obvious."

"No, no it wasn't, Steve!" Bucky groaned, his eyes flicking around, trying to locate you in the crowd but he felt his heart sink as there was no sign. "Oh, I fucked up, big time."

"Suggest you go fix it then." Steve shrugged, his voice a little slow as he himself was busy looking at Peggy as she walked towards him, smiling. He stood up straight and clapped Bucky on the shoulder, before he walked off, leaving his sergeant alone.

Bucky anxiously continued to search the room with his eyes, and felt his heart jump as he saw a flash of colour the same as your dress, and your familiar profile as you walked onto the dance floor, your hand in Howard’s as the man smiled at you, pulling you into a hold.

Oh, fuck you, Stark!

Without wasting another second, Bucky necked his scotch and moved, striding around the dancehall towards you, not watching where he was going which was why he collided straight into Dum-Dum.

"Woah, Barnes, where's the fire?"

"On the dance floor, I hope.” Bucky sidestepped round the broad man quickly, his eyes entirely fixed on you as he weaved his way round the various couples all in the middle of a reasonable slow dance until he reached the pair of you.

He cleared his throat, gently tapping Howard on the shoulder as your eyes fixed onto his, surprise etched across your face.

“Mind if I cut in?”

xxxx

“Did it work?” Peggy asked Steve as the pair of them stood to the side of the hall. Steve glanced over the dancefloor, just as Howard stepped away from you, kissing your hand in an over-the-top gesture before he turned and walked away. Bucky approached you tentatively, and Steve saw you give the faintest of nods, before his friend took you in a close dancing hold.

Grinning, Steve turned back to Peggy, jerking his head to the floor. “See for yourself.”

As the pair of them watched you and Bucky for a second, Steve’s eyes then fell on Howard who had paused to talk to someone. Almost as if he could sense the Captain’s eyes on him, Stark glanced over, a smug grin crossed his face, and he gave Steve the thumbs up sign.

Steve smiled into his glass, the irony at the fact that Bucky had tried and failed many times to fix him up with gals in the past yet he’d managed to turn the tables in a single try, wasn’t wasted on the Captain.

xxxx

“Funny looking bathroom.” Bucky cleared his throat as he steered the pair of you round in a gentle dance.

“Oh, well I got waylaid a little.” You replied. “And seeing as we’re not actually dating, I didn’t think it was an issue.”

“It’s not, I just…” He was quick to reply as he drew in another deep breath before he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

 “What for?”

“Before, saying no the way I did. It was rude.”

You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you glanced up at him. “So, is that the only reason you’ve come to dance now? To apologise?”

“Yes, I mean, no.” Bucky stumbled over his words as he shook his head. “No, I wanted to dance. More specifically I wanted to dance with you.”

His admission settled like a bubbling brook in your belly. You wondered why, so you asked, "why?" 

Your mind began quickly doing the math, adding up the moments and signals between the two of you, wondering if what you dared to think was actually what he was thinking too. You were nervous but you remained close in your dance, your eyes flicking between his and his lips as he spoke, the words drowning in your ears, his voice sounding like your head was under water. 

“Because I like you, Doll Face.”

Then, you felt it, your body leaning in just a smidge as you tilted your head upward as his moved just a pinch to look down at you. Your lips brushed his and the electricity took off as he pulled you in for a deeper, slightly less modest kiss, the hand that had been curled around your waist moved upwards at the same time his other released yours from his hold, and calloused palms and fingers cupped your jaw and cheeks. Despite the roughness of his skin, his warm hands felt soft against your face like the finest silk whilst his tongue dipped into your mouth, kissing you in a way that your Pappy certainly wouldn’t approve of.

But you approved, boy did you approve.

The sounds of the big band drowned out the mewl that bubbled from your delicate throat to those around you, but not to Bucky. He heard the elicit sound clear as day, and that was enough. He wanted to get you alone, away from prying eyes.

He pulled back, casting a quick glance around before he looked down at you, "let's get out of here."

It was a suggestion as much as an instruction, and he waited as you blinked, before you gave the slightest nod and he took your hand, turned, and led you from the dancefloor.

****

How the pair of you made it back to your quarters, you had no idea, but here you were, stumbling into the small room, heated kisses being shared as Bucky kicked the door shut, his lips still fiercely on yours. Your fingers were now deftly undoing the buttons of his jacket before you pulled it open with a flourish, shoving it down over his shoulders and arms as Bucky was quickly pulling off his tie and opening the collar of his shirt. Before long, that was also discarded somewhere on the floor and your hands slid up his strong biceps, down his chest, tracing the taught muscle before your fingers hooked into the front of his uniform pants and you turned your attention to his belt, breaking the kiss a little so you could look down.

“Eager, Doll?” Bucky mumbled as his nose nudged at your chin, pushing your head up. His lips trailed across your jaw line, and then down your neck and you tipped your head back, your eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his lips on your skin, relishing the feel of his soft mouth and the delectable gentle scratching of his five-o-clock shadow.

His hands slowly slid up your sides, before they moved round the back, his lips pressing to yours as you felt his fingers gently guiding the zip of your dress down. Once it was undone, you stepped back and allowed it to fall into a pool at your feet. Bucky glanced down and groaned as his blue eyes scanned the stockings, garter belt, lace panties and matching bra.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His lips crashed back to yours as he backed you towards the cot at the side of the room.  As the back of your knees hit the metal side of the frame, he gently lowered you down, positioning himself over you, caging you with his arms and his legs as his mouth continued trailing soft kisses down your neck and her jawline.

You were powerless to stop the soft noises of pleasure you were making, try as you might, conscious of the fact the walls in the Quarter-Hall were thin, something you cursed on a daily basis as you could hear the squeak of the cot which belonged to the neighbour to your right as she turned over at night. Luckily for you, your springs were untested so to speak, therefore didn’t make a sound, unlike you at that moment in time.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bucky suddenly stopped, his mouth hovering by your ear and you stilled, tilting your head to look at him. “I mean, this…well, it aint proper really, but…”

“Since when did you give a damned about being proper with a Dame?” You teased, fingers wrapping in the chain of his dog-tags, but there wasn’t a shred of humour in Bucky’s tone or on his face when he answered.

“When that dame was you.”

You blinked, and looked at his face, finding nothing there but a genuine softness and you were overcome with the emotions and sensations you were feeling and you yanked on the chain in your hands, pulling his head back down as you crashed your lips back to his.

“Yes, yes I do. I want this Bucky, I want it so much.” You mumbled against his mouth and he gave a groan, before he stood up, quickly, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out the small condom packet, one you recognised as the standard issued to all soldiers to avoid them catching anything when they were putting it about during furlough, so to speak, and he sat back down on the edge of the bed, bending down to unlace his boots.

Bucky was mentally cursing the damned things as he felt you stir behind him, the hard mattress of your bed dipping slightly, and he stilled as he felt your fingers gently brushing over the back of his shoulders. Your touch was feather light as your hands gently felt across his broad back and he gave a sigh, tipping his head back slightly to catch your lips in a deep kiss.

“Doll, if you want me to do anything to you tonight, I gotta get these boots off.”

“So take ‘em off.”

“Stop distractin’ me then.” His accent dripped from his tongue as he chuckled, and your lips curled into a smile against his.

“You saying you can’t handle a job with a little distraction?” You gave a tut, but pulled away a little to allow him to finally get the damned things off. “And Steve says you’re our best marksman.”

“Well, what does that Punk know?” Bucky tossed the boots to the floor with a thud, before he quickly raised his hips enough to allow him to slide off his pants. Then, in a flash he turned, pinning you back to the cot, smirking at the giggle that burst from your mouth. His hands trailed down your body, flicking open the clips on your garter straps without so much as a fumble, before the reached up and snapped the hooks at the front of your bra.

He took a moment to appreciate you, the soft, supple lines of your breasts a complete contrast to your toned shoulders and taught stomach, both the result of an extensive training regime.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He leaned over, kissing you softly, his lips tracing a track down your sternum before he softly took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue gently teasing, eyes flicking to your face to watch your reaction. 

You groaned at the sensation, rolling your head back on the pillow, hips bucking upwards as you let yourself go, barely daring to believe that his was happening, but just as you were questioning if you were in some elaborate dream, a low moan from above you caused your fluttering eyelids to jerk wide open. You could feel him hard, pushing against you and your hands moved round to his back.  You dragged your fingers up his spine, as his hand moved down, sliding into the waistband of your panties making your gasp as his fingers slipped into your folds. As he teased you, your hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from your lips as the heat began to build in between your legs, deep in your belly.

“Good?” Bucky’s voice was a rasp, and it was all you could do to do whimper softly, your head falling back further as your mouth dropped open, your entire body shuddering as the pleasure lanced through you. You reached down, grabbing his wrist and his eyes moved to yours, waiting.

“Want you.” You whispered softly. Almost as if he’d been waiting for that final bit of permission, Bucky’s fingers hooked into the top of your panties, gently sliding them down your legs, gathering your stockings as he went, a movement he had clearly perfected through goodness knows however many other clandestine liaisons. Discarding them to the floor, he wriggled his way out of his own underwear before he sat back on his heels and you moved, grabbing the packet he’d placed on the small bedside unit before.

Bucky groaned softly as your hands gently wrapped around his cock, sliding the condom down. It really shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was but he was almost ready to blow before he’d even started. Once it was on, he crawled back over you, his thighs gently parting yours a little further and with a steady, slow motion he slid into you, the sensation caused both of you to groan, your head falling back against the pillows as Bucky stretched you, his girth and length filling you completely.

"Fuuucckkk.” Bucky breathed out as your tight heat gripped him, his word little more than a whisper. He moved his hands to snake his fingers through yours, gently pinning your hands by the side of your head as he began to move his hips. He went slowly at first, picking up the speed slightly as you keened underneath him, his dog tags sliding in the valley between your breasts, the metal cold against your heated skin.

Your hips bumped together with every thrust he made and, with each rock into you, he was rubbing against that soft spot deep inside you. Your soft cries stuck in your throat, your senses completely overwhelmed as the fire in your body was raging white hot.

“James,” you whispered his name, and Bucky let out a low groan, his fingers tightened around yours as he gave a particularly deep thrust, making you purr in delight. He raised his head to capture your lips, plunging his tongue into your mouth before he released your hands, his own cupping your face as he continued to move.

In that moment, you could have been anywhere. In a hotel, surrounded by the finest silk sheets that money could buy or on some far away beach in the corner of the world, but instead you were led on a hard mattress in a military base, knowing full well you were in for some serious reprimand if you were caught, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the man who was currently undoing you piece by piece as the two of you were tangled in your own private dance.

The more Bucky gave, the more you wanted, and as he hiked your leg up round his waist, his fingers curling round the back of your knee you choked out another pant of his name, “James,” as you felt yourself nearing that point where you’d drop over that oh-so-steep cliff edge. The tips of your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, causing him to groan loudly, his head tipping backwards.

“You feel so good.” His voice was nothing but a whine, and at his praise you gave another low, sultry gasp, your breath now coming in ragged gasps. “God, Y/N,” he moaned loudly as you titled your hips, pushing back up against him, his head dropping slightly. “You close?” he gasped and you nodded softly, your lips falling open and once again he kissed you, hard, his movements speeding up ever so slightly.

“Don’t stop.” You begged, shaking your head as you grasped at his back, “please, so good.”

Bucky felt you shudder underneath him and a few thrusts later your back arched and a soft cry escaped your mouth as your eyes fluttered shut and your head tilted back, mouth open in a now silent scream. He could feel you tightening, pulsing around him as you came and that was it, enough to tip him straight over the edge behind you, the surge and ecstasy of his relief causing his whole body to stiffen as his hips faltered. A groan burst from his mouth as he gave a few final, sloppy thrusts before he collapsed forward, his head burrowing into your neck.

You both lay still for a moment, before Bucky regained enough composure to prop himself up, placing a soft kiss to your lips and as he pulled away slightly, he found you looking up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, heavy lidded eyes blinking slowly in your sated state, and he smiled at the fact you wore that just fucked look so damned well.

“You okay?” He asked softly and you nodded, a smile playing on your lips before you kissed him again.

“More than okay.” You grinned, your nails gently scratching at the nape of his neck. “You got moves, Sergeant.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he kissed you again, his lips hovering over yours. “Well you weren’t so bad yourself, Agent.”

*****

 “Nice of you to show up.” Colonel Phillips looked at you as you walked into the briefing room. “Late night, was it?”

“Sorry, Sir. I didn’t get much sleep.” You mumbled, avoiding Bucky’s eyes as he looked down at the table, a grin on his face.

“Huh, I could have sworn I saw you leaving the dance early.” Dum-Dum quipped and you shot him a glare as you took up a seat next to Peggy who licked her lips, fighting a smirk.

“Whatever, I’m not interested.” Phillips sniffed before he tossed a file down on the table in front of Steve who reached over to take it. “We have word that HYDRA are intending to move Arnim Zola.”

“Do we know where to?” Steve asked, looking at the file before he glanced up and Peggy shook her head.

“No, this is hot off the press so to speak. Stark’s team intercepted their encrypted broadcast. All we know is that they’re nervous about moving, and that the route has been carefully planned to avoid any long, open distances.”

“They’re going through the Alps.” Phillips moved to a map at the side of the room. “Trying to maintain a cover so to speak. Our surveillance team still has Zola at his current location, but that could change at any time. Captain, I need you to co-ordinate and mount an operation to intercept that train and apprehend him.”

“If you know where he is why can’t we just bust in and get him now?” Bucky asked.

“Because you’ll never get there in time.” Phillips replied. “As we understand he’ll be moving out in a couple of hours. So we’re up against it. The window of opportunity lies about six hours into his trip where there’s a slight break in the mountain cover.”

“How do we know this is kosher?” Falsworth took the file from Steve. “They could be leaving a false trail.”

“We hacked a number of broadcasts, each saying a different thing.” Peggy answered. “But this one held the code words we know HYDRA are using today.”

“And our codebreakers have never let us down before, so I’m willing to take a punt.” Phillips nodded. “Get to it, we don’t have much time.”

There was a flurry of movement around the table as you all stood up, Steve barking instructions at you all to collect what you needed and head to the transportation hub immediately as Dum-Dum mentioned something about zip wires and ambushing the train from above. As you all sidled out of the room, a hand gently closed over your arm and you turned to see Bucky as he fell into step besides you.

“Just so you know, I don’t normally make habit of splitting before breakfast.”

“Oh, you normally eat first?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He smirked and you gave a chuckle. “I just didn’t want you thinking-“

“It’s okay, I get it.” You assured him, and you did. He’d left in a flurry that morning before he could get caught sneaking out of the small room you had in the female quarters and you didn’t hold it against him at all. 

“But, I’d really like to take you out, properly, I mean. When we get chance.”

“You asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah.” Bucky stopped, turning to face you. “A real one this time.”

You smiled and nodded. “I’d like that. Oh, but just so you know, I don’t put out on a first date.”

“No? Then what was last night?”

You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. In all honesty, you had no idea what had come over you last night. You’d never behaved in a reckless manner with a man like that before and taken him home so easily, for fear of getting yourself a bad reputation. That said, you didn’t really care either. You were in the middle of a war, running dangerous missions, any of which could be your last. Life was for living, and as long as you were breathing, you intended on making the most of it.

You opened your mouth to explain this to Bucky, but you stopped yourself and instead you simply smiled at him, your eyes looking straight into those steel-blues which were sparkling with mischief.

“Doesn’t count, it wasn’t a real date.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Bucky arched an eyebrow and you nodded.

“Yup, that’s how it is.”

“Well,” He took a deep breath as the pair of you continued walking, “guess I’ll just have to show you a real good time when I get the chance.”

You snorted and shook your head. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“It’s been said.” He grinned as you reached the end of the corridor. “But, first we’ve got a German scientist to catch. Think you can contain yourself around me long enough to run a mission?”

“Okay, first off he’s Swiss.”

“What?”

“Zola, he’s Swiss. I don’t know why you all think differently, it’s in all the briefings and his file-“

“Yeah, I don’t read those.”

“Well you should, you might learn something. And second -“ you held your hand up, finger extended, instructing him to keep whatever wise crack he was about to make to himself, “-you’re not that irresistible.”

Bucky blinked before he gave a laugh and shook his head. “You know, I actually learned a fair bit last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I learned that you cut a mean rug, Doll-Face.” He glanced around, before he leaned closer, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered into your ear. “And that you look even better with your clothes off.”

With that he turned and headed off towards the equipment store, leaving you staring after him, blinking with shock, but feeling an overwhelming sense of smugness that, even in the middle of all this bloodshed and fighting, you had something to look forward to when you got back.

[har-rison-s]

pray, do tell

request: If you don’t mind me asking, request for Loki asking the other Loki’s if they have a s/o in their timeline during episode 5?

a/n: hi ! i absolutely ADORE this idea and i hope i'll write it out respectfully :)) i loved episode 5 so much, except for SOME scenes, and i especially enjoyed multiple lokis sitting around and talking, chilling, that's like... my dream place to be. YOU DON'T KNOW THE EFFECT PRESIDENT LOKI HAS ON ME. like it should be studied in labs and schools cos ??????? that feeling when he's on screen was just something else. also ! kid loki holding alligator loki my beloved <3. i'd love to be surrounded by lokis, me and loki actually have the same personality type so they're like... my people. sorry for the rant, hahah ! this one is a bit shorter than my other loki works, sorry about that :/ also it took me like 40 minutes to find decent gifs lmao. happy reading !! <3

masterlist

mcu masterlist

warnings: nothing really

disclaimer: lokis mentioned have he/him pronouns !

Weirded out by what he's seeing, and not entirely sure it's real, Loki can't take his eyes off it, either. The way alligator Loki drinks his boxed wine is just so fascinating to him, yet weird and other-wordly (he knows those well) at the same time. And he's weirded out more by the fact that he doesn't find a variant of him being an alligator strange in any way. He's had a few trying days, as he said himself.

Loki manages to divert his eyes off the creature with horns on its head and looks to the grapes he holds in his hand. He picks small dirt away from the berries and takes a grape into his mouth with ease. The taste reminds him of many things. His childhood, his home, his family... Thor, Frigga, Odin, Sif and the Warriors Three. Asgard. The Gardens, the waters, the Bifrost. Heimdall. Visits to the city, the markets, the celebrations.

Love.

Loki blinks, fooling himself and others by aiming to portray that he's not thinking about anything important. But he is. She was the most important thing to him, and now... Well, maybe during the New York heist, she's still fine, but after Ragnarok... Loki fears too much to think about it.

He wishes he could remember everything with her that followed New York, but all he has of their future is some worn-out tape in the TVA archives. Perhaps even pictures... He wants to live through all they had now, he wishes he could do that most of all. Of course, there's the finding Mobius and helping Sylvie burn down the TVA thing, but upon remembering her, it all falls into the background.

His first love. Not a god, like him, but she was a goddess in his eyes. He smiles now, subtly, at the fond memories of her. He noticed the little moments he had with her in the tape Mobius had, about his whole future. How beautiful she always was, her subtle way of laughing and going about her smiles and giggles, how exceptional and different her clothes always were, how her hair shined in any light...

“Did any of you...” Loki starts to say, and sighs shortly before continuing, thinking he'll probably regret asking it, “did any of you leave a... a lover behind when the TVA arrested you? Prince or princess?” He looks between his variants. Young Loki shoots him a stern look. “Apologies, my liege. You seem too young for that.” Loki bids him a polite smile, but his brain whirs. “How long have you been here, anyway?”

“Don't know. Time doesn't really... exist here.” Young Loki says and throws a salt biscuit into alligator Loki's jaws. “But no lovers in my lifetime, Loki.” He pointedly looks at the older variant of himself, nodding slightly.

“Not yet, at least.” Loki points out and gets scoffs and chuckles from Boastful and Classic Loki. He looks at them with a furrowed brow.

“Oh, you and your grand plan,” Classic Loki shakes his head before taking another sip from his huge cup. Loki only rolls his eyes, but still waits for answers to his question, “well,” Classic Loki downs his drink, “it would be no surprise to you that I had countless partners before I chose isolation. Partners of any kind.” He winks. Loki nods, understanding how much alike he truly is with his variants. “But I feel there is no one truly... truly made for me. Like midgardians would say - 'the one'.“

“In my case, there were many 'the ones',” Boastful Loki says, mocking Classic's use of words. All other Lokis roll their eyes, “I actually feel like every person in the whole universe was made to be with me. I'm just that irresistible.” He smiles pleasantly to himself. Alligator Loki growls again.

“That's another “liar” from him to you, Boast,” Classic Loki nods his head towards Boastful, who only shakes his head and frowns.

“I had my fair share of men and women before I was taken,” Boastful says, “must have been the same for you, Loki.” He looks at him. “Asgard was truly a giving place.”

Loki chuckles, but looks away from his variants. “Oh, it was...” he says quietly, “it was.” His voice grows even more quiet. Young and Classic Loki exchange a look.

“Do tell us, your mischievousness.” Classic Loki urges him. Loki shoots him a nervous look, then he leans back into the sofa and sighs, his eyes strictly focused on his hands.

“I had plenty before I met... one,” he starts to say, “me and her share a past, and, it seems, a future as well. After New York, I am taken to Asgard, imprisoned, but she is there. I fake my death and rule over Asgard as Odin, and she's there. I help Thor destroy our evil sister--”

“Oh, she was a nasty one.” Boastful says, shaking his head. “We used to have a connection, but then she just... I don't even know.” He shrugs. Loki eyes him for a second before continuing.

“We destroyed Asgard, but saved its people, and saved her. We make for Midgard, and she's there with me.” Loki sighs, his eyes gloomy. “And then... Thanos attacks, destroys half, if not all our people, and...” he can't even speak further. His variants share a look, each having quite the correct guess for what could follow after that. Boastful drinks from his cup in an awkward manner. “But I feel like that's another life I lived. Or another me. I don't know, I feel so... disconnected from her, from what we had. Must be the TVA and this... void. And all that's happened, all I've learned about my future.” He sighs again.

“Meeting her again would be a wake-up call, no?” Boastful asks. Loki shrugs, a sad expression on his face.

“Rather a sign that you're real.” Classic Loki says with a wide, true smile. Loki looks to him as if looking at a mentor. “I often felt like the people I loved and the love I had for them, even if it was not reciprocated, were a reminder that I am real, I exist and I can feel all these things.”

Loki considers his words, and then nods along, finding a truth in them.

“After all, love and all other emotions are the human part in all of us.” Classic says. “And it isn't always bad to feel like a regular human being.” Loki can also find truth in those words. Love makes one feel alive, makes you feel like you're on the right path, found the right person, found your purpose. It doesn't always have to be glorious, it can be small, but nonetheless important to you.

“I used to think humans smaller than us, more pathetic and puny, but...” Loki shakes his head, “we, gods, are just the same, really.” He chuckles sadly. “Having quarrels over the stupidest things, being as imperfect as humans... Sometimes I even felt like I was too good, too perfect for something like true love, which is a pathetic emotion that makes you feel all kinds of other feelings, but...” he smiles, “often times I felt like that, she told me everyone was deserving of love, even me.” His smile grows wider.

“She sounds lovely.” Classic Loki tells him with a kind smile.

“She was that, and more.” Loki nods along. Young Loki imitates the sound of a snore and throws a crumpled piece of paper at Loki's shoulder.

“You're making me extremely bored.” He announces and sits straighter in his chair, looking over the mess that is his palace. “Love's boring.” Young Loki throws a juice carton across the room, making a face.

“You are just too young to understand and know it, your majesty.” Boastful says with a wink, and the next juice carton is flying over his head with a snicker from Young Loki. Classic Loki keeps Boastful tight in his seat so an argument wouldn't arise, and Boastful hesitantly restrains, his drink almost spilling over his cup. Loki watches them with a sappy smile on his features, and decides this is a good place to spend eternity at, even without her.

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[supercorpkid]

Extraneous Variable 2

Error: n2.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Brainy x Reader.

Word count: 2520.

“AAAAAAAAAAH!” You yell when you realize, and you look at Kara on the other side rushing to open your lab door to understand why you’re yelling. “DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR!”

You look at the clothes they put next to you on the floor and sigh. They are not going to fit your very big and masculine body. And oh no, you have that between your legs.

“What’s wrong with your voice?” You hear Lena’s voice from the other side and look at Kara lowering her glasses. Oh no. You cover your very strange new body part, without touching it, and it’s Kara’s turn to yell.

“She’s a boy!” Kara screams covering her eyes. “My beautiful, beautiful baby girl is a boy now!”

“AND SHE’S NAKED!” You yell at them.

They all have different expressions. Kara looks terrified, like she just saw someone dying. Alex is laughing so hard next to them. Brainy looks like he’s doing some calculation to see where it all went wrong, and Lena is just shocked.

“Can someone get me some clothes?” You beg, trying not to look down at yourself.

“Go buy her something.” Lena says handing Kara her card. Kara flies away and comes back not long later with some bags.

“I’m going in.” She announces, like she’s going into a war, and you hide yourself behind a chair, like she couldn’t see more if she wanted to. “Oh, Rao. My poor little daughter.”

“Can you just toss me the bags and turn around?” You ask and she does exactly that. You’re into boy’s clothes in no time. “Ok, I’m decent.”

“Ok, ok. No need to freak out. We can reverse this.” Kara says and you look at her. She is clearly freaking out. She must be talking to herself.

“Yeah. Sure hope so.” You go to your lab door and open to everyone on the other side.

“My baby.” Lena touches your face, with tears on her eyes. “Oh no, you have a beard now.”

You touch your face and feel hair on your chin. This is worse than being a baby. Much, much worse.

“No.” You feel tears coming up. You’re the largest, tallest person in the room, and yet you feel so tiny and small and sad! “Mommy.” You turn to Kara. “I have a beard.”

“Oh, my poor sweet girl.” You have to bend yourself to fit into her arms, and it is still weird.

“I should’ve stayed a baby. Why are our lives so weird?” You mumble between your tears and feel Kara’s hand easing up your tense shoulders.

“We’ll figure this out, my love.” She passes her thumb on your forehead, then kisses it. It’s instinct, getting your bangs out of the way, before kissing your forehead. They’ve done it all your life, except now you don’t have bangs. You barely have hair if you’re being honest.

“You know what? You look handsome as a boy.” Aunt Alex jokes and you roll your eyes at her. “What should I call you? What name would you like to have if you were a boy?”

“Well, I would very much like not to be a boy right now!” You wipe your tears but see on her face that she’s trying to ease the mood. So you lean into it, otherwise you might just cry non-stop until you’re back into your old self. “But for now, just call me…” You look around trying to think. “Brainiac 6!”

“That’s funny.” But Brainy doesn’t look amused. “As a matter of fact, there is a Brainiac 6 in the family. I’m not quite sure you would like him.”

“Oooh, family drama!” Alex jokes and you smile.

“Who would think Coluans had such a dramatic background?” You add.

“Everyone?” Brainy misses the sarcasm on your voice, making you and Alex laugh harder.

“Would the three of you stop being funny and transform my babygirl back into a girl?” Lena asks. The three of you lower your heads, feeling embarrassed that Lena had to scold you. You all turn back to the computer and the alien tech in front of you.

“Oh no!” You look at the name on your phone, currently ringing. “It’s my girlfriend! I can’t pick up!” You give your phone to Kara. “Here, you answer!”

“Me?” She holds your phone like it’s a bomb in her hands. “Why me?”

“Because I can’t talk to her with a man’s voice, and if I don’t answer she’ll worry. So just make something up!”

“Then have Lena answer!” She tries to pass the phone to Lena, who ignores it.

“Momma, please!”

“Oh boy.” Kara complains, accepting the call, and slowly putting the phone on her ear, like it’s about to explode. “Oh, hi Maya. It’s, um, it’s Mrs. Danvers! So sorry, she can’t talk right now. No, no, she’s fine. She’s just…” She looks around trying to come up with a lie. “Grounded!” She yells, and you furrow your eyebrows at her. “Yeah, I-I had to ground her, ‘cause she…” Kara is hyperventilating in front of you. “Did something bad. Anyways, I had to take her phone away, so you won’t be able to talk to her for a while? I don’t know how this thing works, but yeah. Ok, have a nice day! Bye!”

“Really? You grounded me?” You take the phone from her hands and put it back in your pocket. “Couldn’t have thought of a more believable lie?”

“It’s believable!” Kara says, getting an eyebrow rise from everyone in the room except Brainy.

“Hardly.” He says, instead. “It’s 10% believable. If you had, however, said that Lena was the one who did the grounding, the lie would’ve been 85% believable.”

“Whatever.” Kara huffs upset, crossing her arms. “I’m so going to ground you someday just to shock everyone.”

“Mhm, honey. Sure you will.” Lena shushes her, and you turn your face to the other side to laugh at her. Kara is such a dork.

You’ve been at it for a while now. Brainy seems to have understood the logic of the alien tech, and then misunderstood it a few times by now. You also don’t have any idea of what was done and how the hell you were turned into a freaking boy.

“I need, um, help.” You whisper to Kara and point to your new private part with your head. She looks down on it with furrowed eyebrows.

“Can’t help with that.” Kara tries to move away from you, and you hold her arm, pulling her back to where you’re standing.

“How do I pee with this thing?” You whisper, terrified someone else might be able to hear you.

“You hold it, aim, and shoot.”

“Are you sure you’re not thinking about a gun?” Kara holds her laugh at that and pulls Lena until she is in front of you.

“Ask your mom, I have to be anywhere, but here.”

“What’s wrong?” Lena asks and you look down on your body. Why does it feel so weird to talk to Lena about that? Maybe you should just google it.

“Besides the fact that I’m a boy now? Nothing. I’m fine. It’s fine.” You walk backwards, cursing Brainy for messing with the alien tech and not being able to bring you back.

It’s late at night when they all decide they are done for the day. You try to protest, spending another day on a boy’s body sounds terrifying, but Alex and Brainy don’t give in and Lena looks scared to touch the tech that wiped her memory. You also think it’s best if Kara doesn’t try anything. So you accept your fate and go home.

“It’s not that bad.” Kara says, lifting your chin up, and you roll your eyes at her. “It could be worse.”

“How? I look like a blonde version of Superboy.”

“Good thing your girlfriend is pansexual!” Kara smiles at you, trying to find the silver line. There is none.

“She’s not going to see me like this! I don’t even want to see myself like this. I have been wanting to go to the bathroom for hours now, and there’s no way I’m going to shower with this whole thing happening down there.”

“Just tuck in and sit.” Lena says coming into the living room and you nearly vomit at the thought.

“Ok, I don’t want to know how you know that.” Kara says and you hold your laughter.

“It makes way more sense than ‘hold, aim and shoot’.”

“What do you think it is? A gun?” Lena asks and you point at her with a victorious smile on your face.

“That’s what I said!”

Lena and her impressive power of reading your mind.

Turns out peeing is not as bad as you thought, at least not now that Lena told you that you don’t have to touch it, and you can sit down while doing so. Still, you don’t shower. That’s next level weird and you’re not ready for it yet.

It’s morning and you’re in the kitchen with your moms and it almost feels like your typical routine. It’s only when you talk and your voice startles them, that you realize none of this is normal. You can’t wait until you’re out of this body.

“Alex said she and Brainy are on their way to L Corp for an early start. Do you mind going there and letting them in your lab?” Kara asks and you stand up right away.

“Are you kidding? Do I mind? I might kiss them when I get there!” You rush to the door, ready to fly away. The good thing about being a boy is that you don’t have to hide your secret identity. This might as well be one.

You open the door and look at Maya on the other side. You see her finger hovering the bell like she was just about to ring it.

Oh no, this can’t be happening! Maya is not supposed to be here! She is not supposed to see you like this! No one is supposed to see you like this.

“Hi.” You try, making your voice sound lower than it already is. Which is damn stupid because she never even heard this voice before.

“Hey! I’m-”

“Maya, yeah, I-I know.” You blink at her while she looks at you very confused. Her eyebrows are pinched together and she’s biting her lower lip. “Oh!” You scratch the back of your head. “I’m-um-I’m, you know it’s a long story. But I’m-”

“She’s my-I mean-he.” Kara looks at you with wide eyes. “He is my nephew! Yeah. Jon Kent.”

“Oh, right. Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” Maya raises her hand, and you grab it, giving the weirdest handshake in history.

“I’m sorry to say that your girlfriend is still pretty much grounded.” Kara says, giving Maya a smug smile. “Because you see, I can ground her too! It’s not just Lena! I’m strong enough to do so and I know it sounds surprising but-”

“You know, I don’t think she is surprised.” You stop her, before she blows this for you. “She grounded her own daughter. How crazy, right!”

“Yeah. Wild.” Maya laughs with you. You see a little tinkle in her eyes and you’re almost sure she can see right through your manly body. “I just stopped by to give her this.” She hands Kara a bag with a smile. “I’ll see her when the grounding is over!”

“Which, by the way, I don’t know when that will be. Because I’m still pretty mad at her.” You look at Kara, looking everything but mad, and you sigh.

“Nice to meet you, Maya!”

“Nice to meet you, Jon.” She narrows her eyes at you. “Jon Kent.”

You feel like the collar on your shirt is suddenly too tight around your neck. You try to breathe, but why is the air of the world suddenly gone?

“See you later, Mrs. Danvers.” Maya shrugs and turns around. You’re almost breathing again when you hear. “Tell my girlfriend I’ll wait for her.”

You and Kara look at each other with wide eyes and mouth agape.

“Will do!” Kara says, waving at Maya. “This can’t get any worse, right?” Kara whispers through her smile while still waving at Maya who is not even looking at both of you anymore.

“Sure it can. Just give yourself a minute.” You pat her back and get inside the house. “Why did you tell her I was Jon? What will happen when the real Jon Kent comes to visit?”

“Well, I don’t know! I’m not good at lying on the spot. Neither are you, by the way! You looked like you were about to combust into flames!”

“Next time, I’ll just ask mom! At least she can lie better.” You point at Lena, who agrees with her head without looking at you.

“Yes, Luthors are great at lying and, the ones who are blessed with, also have great hair.” She smiles looking up and gives you and Kara a few minutes to recover from the burst of laughter. “Can we go now?”

“Only if you tell Alex that joke.” Kara agrees and Lena smiles, much too content with herself.

You get to your lab faster than Kara and Lena, and at the same time Brainy and Alex get there. Brainy thinks he’s got it, so you stay by his side for moral support.

You hear a click on your back, and you look behind you to see aunt Alex with her phone pointed at you.

“Jamie was curious.” She explains and you roll your eyes. “Can you turn to me so I can send one of your face?”

“Are you guys serious right now?” You ask and she shrugs.

“It’s not everyday you get turned into a boy, kiddo!” She jokes and you turn to the camera and give her your best smile. She sends the picture to Jamie and giggles at her phone. “Kelly and Jamie said you’re a catch!”

“Ugh. Go faster Brainy!”

Lucky for you, he indeed knows how to reverse it. Or he looks like he knows. You guess you’ll see. Kara and Lena get there, and you feel confident in trying now.

“Should we leave the room?” Kara asks, and Brainy denies with his head.

“I believe I mastered a way of only affecting the man in the room, so you three can stay and I’ll step outside for a minute. Alex?” He calls and she comes closer. “Just press this when I’m out of the room.”

“Got it.” She gives him two thumbs up, and you watch Brainy making his way out of the room. “Ready, babyboy?”

“Ugh, just go on with it already.” You beg and it doesn’t take her much more to press the button Brainy told her.

The room flashes blue, and you stand in front of a mirror excitedly. You see your image changing from boy to girl and you almost jump in excitement.

“YES! IT WORKED!” You yell, so damn happy you actually jump and squeaky. “Guys! I’m me again!”

You turn around to look at Kara, Lena and Alex.

“AAAAAH!”

“WHAT!”

“What the actual FUCK!”

Notes:

Another funny prompt by @oncemoonie I’m having way too much fun with this series.

[writertitan]

Fate

pairing: levi x reader

word count: 5291 (not sorry)

themes: mentions of minor character death, nightmares, sassy!reader, confused!levi

requested by iman-the-simp

The breeze was harsh and whipped at your body as you made your way to your temporary lodging. It had been a long day of meetings with your new superiors, getting up to speed on what it meant to be a soldier, and trying not to lose your cool. There had also been a lot of spying, and whether they were aware that you noticed or not, apparently it didn’t really matter. After all, they were still trying to figure out where to put you and they knew you’d have to go along with whatever they said. Would you be most useful in the Garrison Regiment, or perhaps with the Military Police? Pyxis had basically vetoed placing you with the Scouts and part of you was relieved for that. Your set of skills were put to use when defending someone, not fighting someone. Or, in this case, fighting something. 

You shuddered at the thought of having to face a titan in the flesh. 

The door to your room came into view and you relaxed a little, ready to just take a breather alone, but the call of your name made you tense up and turn around slowly to see who was calling you. It was an MP, a new recruit, and it took you a minute to remember her name. 

“Private Hitch,” you greeted her cordially, her name finally popping into your head, but you couldn’t hide the irritation that edged your words. What could she possibly want? She’d been one of the spies you’d caught watching you today, and she’d done her duty very poorly. 

“Sorry, I know this is a pain, but...you’re wanted for another meeting tonight and I’m supposed to take you,” she explained. You noted the way she tensed around you, and the slight shakiness in her voice as she spoke to you, though she did a decent job of trying to remain calm. You could only imagine the rumors going around about you. 

With a loud and exasperated sigh, you ran a hand over your head and gave her a frown, though it wasn’t directed at her, despite her willingness to spy on you all day; you were upset with the situation you were finding yourself in, and how it somehow got worse and worse. You just wanted to be alone. 

“Fine,” you quipped, and followed her along long hallways and past closed doors with muffled voices on the other side, until you got to a familiar one. This had been one of the meeting rooms you were constantly finding yourself in these days. 

Hitch opened the door and let you in, and you stepped inside rather confidently, though you had no idea what this was about. 

You saw a few familiar faces as your eyes scanned the room. There was Pyxis, Zachary, and Dok, and...new faces. Confused, you tilted your head to the side as your eyes met blue ones, and then grey ones. 

“Who am I meeting today?” you asked bluntly, looking towards Pyxis, the friendliest one of the group. 

He was already smiling warmly, beckoning for you to come and sit. You did so, opting to sit as far away from them all as possible. 

“No need to be upset,” Pyxis told you, gesturing towards the two new faces at the table. “This is Commander Erwin of the Scout Regiment. And this is Captain Levi.” He pointed out Commander Erwin as the blond, and Captain Levi as the black-haired man. When Levi glared at you, you glared back. 

“Don’t worry,” he started, “I don’t know what I’m doing here, either. This is clearly more of a meeting for the higher-ups.” 

The last sentence was directed more towards Erwin, but Erwin didn’t indulge him with an explanation. His eyes were trained on you, examining you shamelessly. You’d only heard snippets about Commander Erwin, but of course had never seen him in person. All of this was new to you. 

“You’ve got quite the skill set, I’m told,” he greeted you. His voice was deep. Even though he spoke calmly, his voice seemed to boom. Definitely a Commander. 

“You could say that,” you replied, eyes shifting to Captain Levi briefly. The way he seemed to stiffen up and also examine you a little harder caught your attention right away. It was as though whatever Erwin had said triggered him. What was his deal? 

Erwin chuckled at your demeanor, which caught you off guard. And the fact that you were once again caught off guard by someone made you mad. It was the reason you were here in the first place. Pyxis had laughed at you the first time he’d laid eyes on you, much like Erwin, and it was so disarming. Now look at yourself. 

As soon as you realized your mistake, you fixed it. Straightening up and hardening your gaze, you met Erwin’s eyes without hesitation, even going so far as to quirk up an eyebrow. In a way, you were challenging him to just get to the point. You’d have liked for this meeting to be done with as soon as possible. 

From beside Erwin, Captain Levi scoffed a little. 

“I know Darius Zachary and Commander Pyxis are deliberating on where to put you, in their respective regiments,” Erwin began, “but I was hoping to speak with you about joining the Scouts.” 

“This is only a formality,” Zachary immediately interrupted, shooting Erwin a glare. “This is not to be taken seriously.” 

“Duly noted,” you replied coolly, arms folded over your chest as you stared between all of them. Your glare faltered when your eyes met Levi’s again. He was struggling to pick an emotion. You saw him waver between annoyance and curiosity and even confusion, if you were reading him right. And, usually, you were spot on. 

Pyxis laughed that same laugh that had taken you by surprise and gotten you caught, and you looked at him with a bewildered expression, never failing to be surprised by his reactions to things. The atmosphere was so tense. How could he always find it in him to laugh at any situation? 

“We all know you’re pushing hard to have our little prodigy in the Military Police, Zachary, but please remember that there is a process to these things,” Pyxis chided gently, a smile ever-present on his face, and then it seemed like he had taken everyone by surprise at that. Nonetheless, it got Zachary to back off and lean back in his chair, silently allowing for whatever was happening to continue. 

Erwin cleared his throat and leaned forward, eyes intent and determined as they stared right at you. “Whether you think so or not, your talents would be highly advantageous in the Scout Regiment. I believe we’d benefit from how you’ve used those talents, on the field. The Scouts also have much more experience with...less traditional ways of recruitment. It would be an easier transition than transitioning into a soldier with the Military Police or the Garrison Regiment. We’re willing to work with you.” 

It was difficult to keep your gaze fixed on Commander Erwin when Captain Levi was practically twitching beside him, eyes slightly wider now as he stared at you, clearly trying to figure you out. Your eyes flickered over to him more than once, your own gaze questioning him, but eventually you were able to ignore the captain and focus solely on Erwin. Maybe Levi was just a weirdo. That’s what you’d heard about the Scouts anyway; all of them were outcasts in their own right.

“I ask this in the most respectful way possible...you’re asking me to voluntarily get eaten by titans?” you asked Commander Erwin, your eyebrow again raised up as if to challenge him. Nile Dok, who had been silent this entire time, actually guffawed. 

“I’m asking you to risk your life considerably more than if you joined the Garrison or Military Police, yes,” Erwin answered, honest as ever. It did surprise you a little, but you were careful not to show him. 

You didn’t answer right away but met everyone’s gaze calmly, all of them very concentrated on you and you alone. Clearly, you had every opportunity to have your fun with them. Maybe pretending to consider joining the Scouts could buy you a little alone time, force everyone to leave you be. Even if just for a little while. 

A sigh escaped your mouth and that little noise alone made all five men lean in closer. As fun as it would have been to string them all along while you figured out a way out of this mess, you knew it would be no use. 

“I’m not really into risking my life unnecessarily,” you said. 

To his credit, Commander Erwin didn’t show any sign of disappointment or discontent in your answer. He must have fully expected it. 

Levi looked to him then, back to being stoic and unreadable, but you caught a flicker of something in his eyes as he gazed at his commander. The emotion was gone before you could really make it out. 

“For what it’s worth, it wouldn’t be an unnecessary risk,” Erwin said, ignoring Levi’s steely gaze. “You’d be doing something meaningful. And you’d be avenging those you’ve lost.” 

Commander Erwin’s last words made your heart stop beating. 

He got up calmly, like he hadn’t said something so earth-shattering, and Captain Levi followed suit automatically. You barely registered Commander Erwin saying something about it being nice to meet you before walking out with Levi. You barely registered that you were also standing up, following them despite calls from Zachary and Dok to stay where you were, but of course, you didn’t listen to them. You were only fully aware, fully back in your body, as you stopped at the corner Levi and Erwin had rounded, keeping yourself hidden as you peeked out and listened to their conversation. 

“- should have known you’d brought me for a reason,” you heard Levi say. “I guess I’m not surprised that you’re resorting to ‘less traditional’ approaches to recruitment, as you so eloquently put it.” 

Erwin chuckled. 

“Thanks for coming, Levi. What did you think?” 

“I think the kid’s sassy as hell. Don’t tell me I was like that,” Levi replied. Their voices were fading away the farther they walked down the hall. 

“You were, and still are, very much like that.” 

Before they turned another corner and were completely out of your line of sight, Levi paused and turned his head to look over his shoulder, meeting your gaze instantly. You felt your face grow hot but didn’t look away or try to hide; no use in hiding when you’ve already been caught. 

The quirk of his eyebrow was almost mocking as he disappeared around another corner with Commander Erwin. But, more than mocking, it was challenging. 

-

You set your laughably small sack of belongings on your new bed, taking a look around at your new room. 

Temporary bed, temporary room, you thought to yourself, huffing a little as you sat on the edge and then flopped down to stare at the ceiling, legs still flopping off the edge. There was no way you were actually going to join the Scout Regiment. No way in hell. You were just here temporarily, to learn about their techniques, their day-to-day, and how you could potentially be useful in this regiment. 

The scrubby window showed nothing but the black of night, a faint orange glow of a lantern outside the only real source of light besides the burning candle on the dresser across from your bed. The bed was creaky and the blankets were scratchy, not as good as what you’d had when you were temporarily lodging over with the Military Police. Still, you were hoping for more peace and quiet here, ironically, than you’d had back there with the MPs. 

Though sleep should have been calling your name, you fought it with every fiber of your being, as you’d been doing for weeks now. There was, admittedly, a part of you that was exhausted, but the part of you that was overwhelming and overpowering told you to stay awake, for many reasons. 

In an effort to distract yourself, you got yourself situated and put away what few belongings you had and were able to bring along with you, and then took out the leather journal you had somehow managed to keep to start writing down the events of the day. But all of that was done soon enough, and you didn’t want to waste paper on another mundane day, so you got up to exit your room and explore. 

Commander Erwin and Squad Leader Hange had already given you a tour of the grounds, but it had been quick and, if you were being honest with yourself, you hadn’t really paid much attention. Why would you, when this wasn’t permanent? This was just a formality, as Zachary had reminded you time and time again. There was no need in remembering every detail of this place. 

Silence and darkness engulfed you as you walked along the hall, vaguely remembering where the dining area was. You’d brought your candle along for extra light, fingers hooked around the brass handle of the holder as you made your way to...well, wherever you were going. 

About to give up and turn back and hopefully find your way back, your eyes caught another flickering flame around the corner. When you rounded it, you were surprised to see a head of cropped black hair that was becoming increasingly familiar. Although you hadn’t spoken to Captain Levi since the meeting, you’d glimpsed him around the grounds during your arrival and subsequent tour. His back was always turned to you, or his profile was visible but he would never look at you. Any curiosity he’d had about you seemed to have been squashed. For some reason, that bothered you. 

He didn’t look up from his cup of tea and stack of papers. But he did acknowledge the extra presence by calling out, “It’s well past your bedtime, brat. You better be halfway back to your room by the time I turn around.” 

“That’s no way to talk to your subordinates,” you said without missing a beat, fighting the urge to smirk when Levi’s head whipped around. “I’m not your subordinate, though.” 

Levi frowned at you, but didn’t look away. “Technically, you are while you’re still here.” 

You frowned at that and walked over to where he sat, setting the saucer holding your candle next to his and sitting down. 

“So, why are you still awake? Like you said, it’s past bedtime,” you said with an air of casualty, back pressing into the chair as you studied the man in front of you. Levi was definitely a force to be reckoned with. His attitude was obvious, of course, but there was something determined and unyielding in his eyes. His stoic demeanor was still edged with that same unstoppable nature. Captain Levi was definitely interesting. 

You should have known from your few observations alone that Levi wouldn’t answer your question, but it still irked you when he didn’t even acknowledge it and went back to working his quill on the papers in front of him. 

“Sorry I asked,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes, but then turned your attention to those papers with intrigue. “What are you working on?” 

“Nothing.” 

“...Can I help?” 

“No.” 

You huffed, annoyed, definitely about to say something snarky, but Levi cut you off before you could lash out. 

“This is exactly why you should go to bed, kid. You’re getting cranky,” he said, sounding almost bored. 

Maybe it was true. Maybe you were cranky from your lack of sleep. Maybe it would all come crashing down on you, the weight of everything that’s happened, and if you’d just rest, things would feel better. You would feel better. But that nagging part of you, the one that said to stay awake, whispered in the back of your mind about the darkness that was waiting for you if you did try to rest. 

“I can’t sleep,” you whispered suddenly, and it came out meeker than you wanted it to. 

Levi snapped his attention away from his papers to look at you then, eyebrows knitting together for a moment before finally relaxing back into an unreadable expression. Even then, you swore that it wasn’t a trick of the light when you saw a little bit of understanding in his eyes. But then the flame of the candles flickered and it was gone again, the emotion you couldn’t quite pin down from Levi, the one you’d seen during that meeting when you’d first met. 

Wordlessly, he handed you a stack of papers he’d clearly already finished. 

“Proofread these for any errors,” he said. “And there’s a pot of tea in the kitchen. You’ll want to heat it up again. And bring me another cup.” 

You brightened up and nodded eagerly as you stood up, grabbing your source of light again. 

“On it!” 

You took a few steps and then stopped, face getting hot with embarrassment as you remembered --

“You don’t know where you’re going,” Captain Levi stated. It wasn’t a question.

“Maybe I do,” you challenged. 

“You’re going the wrong way.” 

“I knew that.” 

-

You should have been exhausted. You should have been on the verge of passing out, rocketing into a dreamless sleep for the night, out like a light. In many ways, you were completely worn out. 

Your limbs ached and felt heavy from ODM training, and your eyes burned from being awake so long. You’d managed a few hours two nights ago, but the nightmares had been so realistic and so dark that you hadn’t been able to try and rest since then. Your insomnia headache, as you affectionately called it, was in full swing after exerting yourself all day. 

And yet, as you collapsed onto your bed and closed your eyes and tried to just fall asleep and forget about it all...you couldn’t do that. 

You couldn’t keep your eyes closed for more than a few minutes. 

A frustrated groan tore through you as you curled up into your scratchy blankets, your stubbornness kicking in. Whether you wanted to or not, you were going to get some sleep tonight. Nightmares or no nightmares, it was getting ridiculous. 

Your eyes stayed shut and you stayed unmoving, breathing evenly to try and coax yourself into some form of unconsciousness, but your mind still felt restless. 

It’s no use, you thought bitterly, and then physically jolted in surprise when the words were said out loud. 

Just not by you. 

“It’s no use,” a familiar, achingly familiar, voice said. 

Your eyes flew open and you frantically searched the room for her, but afraid to move a muscle from where you lay in bed. 

And there she was, clear as day, so close you could have touched her. 

“Saria.” You breathed out her name, hand twitching at your side, wanting to reach out and just touch her. She was right there. Just sitting at the edge of your bed by your feet, watching you with the most serene expression on her face. She had never looked serene when she was alive. 

“It’s no use,” she repeated, cocking her head to the side as her wide eyes stared you down. “How could you possibly sleep knowing you killed me?” 

Before you could even think to answer, you watched in horror as blood soaked through her dress, dripped from her hairline, dribbled from the corner of her mouth. She was getting more and more mangled as you stared, until finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry!” you cried out, ripping the upper half of your body from the bed to try and get close enough to her, to try and save her somehow. 

Your hand was outstretched to the foot of your bed, reaching out to nothing. 

Another dream. 

The tears came swiftly after the realization hit. Just a few wretched sobs that you were unable to control, which died down once you got your bearings and a better hold of reality set in. 

“Only a nightmare,” you mumbled to yourself, throwing the blankets off of you. No chance in hell you were going to attempt to sleep after that. 

You were surprised to see how dark it was outside. The sun had only just set when you’d gotten back to your room, but now the early morning chill had set in and there was nothing but silence to keep you company. So, you’d slept after all. It just had only felt like 5 minutes compared to the hours you’d allegedly been out. 

You lit your candle and padded out of your room, shifting uncomfortably in your newly issued uniform that you hadn’t even pulled off before trying to sleep. Barefoot, you wandered the halls until you came to the dining area again, a surprising wave of relief washing over you when the sight of another flickering flame came into view. 

Levi was there again, a cup of tea at the table next to him like last time, but this time he was reading a book instead of working through piles of undoubtedly boring paperwork. 

And he’d heard you again, like he had the first time just a few days ago. This time, he didn’t make a snippy remark. He did, however, look up from his book, likely to make sure it was who he thought it was. His eyes flickered back to the pages before his mind seemed to catch up with the full sight of you, and he immediately looked back to you and set his book down for a moment as you made your way over, Levi registering that something was amiss. You saw him take note of your eyes, the same eyes you were now positive were red and puffy from your little outburst, and then he looked over your rumpled uniform and jittery hands.

“There’s tea in the kitchen,” he said simply, picking up his book again. 

You were embarrassed at not realizing you probably looked a little wild until just then, but were grateful that Levi didn’t comment on it. Now that you knew where the kitchen was, you made your way there silently and reheated the kettle, finding a small container of sugar. You poured a little less than a tablespoon into two cups after pouring out some steaming tea, nervously making your way back to where Levi was sitting. 

Why were you nervous? 

“I brought you another cup,” you started, then berated yourself internally when you saw the cup already by him was still half full. “I hope you don’t mind that I put just a little dash of sugar in it. I hate the way tea tastes after you reheat it. You can taste the difference.” 

At that, Levi’s eyes shot up and he didn’t even try to hide the astonished gaze. 

“What?” you asked uncomfortably, sitting down in the same chair you’d sat in before. 

“Nothing. I just...have never heard anyone else say that before.” 

To your complete astonishment, a very rare smile pulled at Levi’s lips, but he was gazing down at the cup of tea you’d brought him and not at you. Briefly, you wondered how it would have felt if he had looked right at you when he smiled. 

“I’m glad I’m in the presence of someone with actual taste,” you said with a grin, heart skipping a beat when Levi actually chuckled at that. 

Then, as soon as it had all appeared, his smile and his laughter died away and he gazed up at you with an apprehensive gaze. Your heart sunk, your earlier thought - hope - of seeing him smile at you squashed. 

“If you’re having problems sleeping, you should talk to Hange,” he told you, voice a little stern. 

At that, you had to scoff.

“Real nice, coming from you of all people,” you grumbled. “You should practice what you preach. Everyone says you basically have forgotten how to sleep.” 

“I have my reasons-” Levi started, but you cut him off instantly. 

“So do I.” 

Again, you began to tremble, a flash of your lost friend at your bedside suddenly coming to the front of your mind. You tried to shake it away, but it still felt so fresh. With a frustrated sigh, you grabbed your cup of tea and took a heavy sip, not caring about the way it burned. 

Levi seemed just slightly gentler by the time you spared a glance his way. His book was closed, index finger holding his place in his book, and he pursed his lips as your eyes met. 

“Need to talk about your reasons?” he asked; a clear indication this wouldn’t be a mutual thing. Nonetheless, he was allowing you safety to talk to him, something you hadn’t really expected. 

Something else you hadn’t expected was how easily you just let it all slip out. 

“I couldn’t save my friend,” you explained, gritting your teeth as the confession was said aloud. It was a bitter pill to swallow. “When I realized the MPs were on our tail, I told her to meet up with the guy who had hired us as their...protection, so to speak. That’s what we’d been planning on doing that day: meeting up with our new contract for the first time. I’m sure you’ve already heard that that’s the reason everyone is so intent on bagging me. She and I...we were both really good spies, basically. Sometimes vigilantes, to be honest. And I didn’t want both of us to get caught, so I told her to go ahead and find the guy who’d just hired us, see if he could help somehow. Turns out he had only hired us to kill us, after we’d gotten some of his guys killed from a previous job. They tortured her, and then they killed her. The MPs demanded for me to take them to the meeting site. We got there much, much too late. It was hard, seeing her like that. All because of the choice I made. And now I just...can’t stop seeing her.” 

The disgust you’d been feeling for yourself crept back up, almost made you gag, as the words weighed down on you. Levi was watching you intently, his eyes conveying that peculiar emotion. This time, he didn’t try to shield it with his stoicism. 

You shifted around awkwardly, not knowing if you wanted him to say something or not, and then you stiffened when Levi frowned and leaned back in his chair, scoffing a bit. 

“What?” you asked him, arms hugging yourself. 

“It just feels like I’m being fucked with somehow,” he admitted, his eyes back on the tea you’d brought him, and then flickering back to you. “That wasn’t your fault. You made the choice you thought was best. That’s all.” 

Although the words should have been meaningless coming from someone who didn’t know you at all, or know the situation, it dawned on you that maybe Levi understood more than you realized. Him being a captain in the Scout Regiment alone was reason enough. How many people had he lost? Against your own wishes, you felt yourself soothed by his words. 

“I’m sorry about whoever you’ve lost,” you whispered. “What was their name?” 

Levi tensed at the question and you knew you wouldn’t really get an answer. 

“Too many names to list,” he breathed out. You nodded. 

“My friend’s name was Saria,” you said, forcing yourself to say the words. It was painful to even speak her name. You felt ashamed to do it, undeserving. “She’d be more qualified for this kind of thing. I’ll probably be hanged soon or something. I’m not a soldier.” 

Levi gave a fleeting smile again, shaking his head. 

“Trust me, you’ll learn. Just survive it. That’s all you can do.” His eyes darkened, then softened, as he said, “Survive it for her.” 

As soon as he got the words out, you found yourself making that promise to yourself, and to her. 

“I will.” 

-

“You’re sure?” 

Levi’s surprise and apprehension was evident in his question, his brow quirked up as he gazed at you from across the table. It was supper time, and you’d made it a habit to sit with him and the other higher-ups during meal times. At first, he’d barely acknowledged you. Now, on the third day, and with your little announcement, he was forced to engage with you. 

“Yup. I’ve decided to join the Scouts.” You repeated the words again, tasting them on your tongue, and they didn’t taste so bitter. Just a couple of weeks ago, you would have scoffed at the idea of being crazy enough to choose the Scout Regiment. 

From beside Levi, an amused chuckle rumbled from Erwin’s chest. 

“Zachary’s not going to be very happy about this,” he mused, but he was clearly enjoying the prospect of telling him, gaze faraway as he daydreamed the scenario. 

Levi didn’t say anything else, but he gave you a wary glance again before getting back to his cup of tea. You shrugged and continued to eat your meal, though admittedly, you were too antsy to really eat. You ended up handing over the last of your bread to Levi, who shot you an incredulous stare, and the last of your vegetables to Hange, who seemed pleased. 

“Take it, I’m full,” you insisted, already hurrying away from the table so you couldn’t be around to hear of the protests. 

It was true, you felt full and didn’t have an appetite. Maybe it had to do with the anxiety coursing through you, though. Because, for once in who knew how long, you actually felt sleepy. Your eyelids drooped as you made it to your no-longer-temporary room and finished your night routine of pajamas and splashing some water on your face. You crawled into your no-longer-temporary bed and sighed in relief, letting sleep take you. 

When you felt the bed dip, you tensed up. For what felt like several minutes, you waited in silence, hoping to be called into a dreamless sleep, but you were suddenly all too aware of your bedroom, and the fact that you just didn’t feel alone.

“It’s no use.” Saria’s voice pierced through the air and made your eyes fly open. The same words she’d used before. She’d never liked repeating herself when she was alive. Dead Saria was kind of annoying. 

You wanted to tell her so many things, wanted to beg for her to let you sleep, but your throat felt like there was a rock lodged in it. The lump couldn’t be swallowed down. You couldn’t even scream. You couldn’t even move. Your body felt heavy, like lead. 

“It’s fine,” Saria sighed wistfully, a hand running over the material of your blanket. “You’ll probably be dead soon. The Scouts, huh? Wonder why you chose the Scouts.” 

And then you finally found the will to move, and clenched your eyes shut as you sat up in bed forcefully. When you opened your eyes again, she was gone. 

A shaky exhale left you and you clambered out of your bed, wanting to just get out of there and already knowing where you wanted to go and who you wanted to see. You lit your candle and made your way out, barefoot and only in your nightgown. 

The sight of Levi’s flickering candle made you feel ten times better, and the sight of Levi himself made you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

When you saw that there was a second cup of tea right in front of your usual seat, you let yourself smile. 

[bobohu4eva]

Pink Lace - Chapter 5

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo

Masterlist

After your conversation with Baekhyun Monday evening Tuesday was spent desperately trying to get Baekhyun off your mind, with little success. He’d asked you if you liked him like that, and you couldn’t tell him no. Hell, you knew in the back of your mind that the answer was definitely yes, you just couldn’t bring yourself to say it to his face. 

As much as you did like him, the prospect of starting something with a customer who was also your professor was still terrifying. What if you two got together and people found out? Or what if things started to go south and you were still stuck with him as your teacher? 

Despite your other schoolwork, and cleaning basically everything you possibly could, your mind just kept racing with every different possible scenario for if you did tell Baekhyun how you felt. And most of them were quite unpleasant. He could lose his job, you could make class absolute hell for yourself if things didn’t go well, and so on. Different possibilities played themselves out in your mind over and over, and there was little you could do to stop it. 

However the thoughts that stuck with you the most were the ones where things didn’t end badly. Thoughts of his arms around you, his comforting words whispered in your ear, and the gentle touches of his pretty hands on your skin. As much as you fought it, the attraction was there. 

The way your mind bounced between thoughts was stressful to no end. Every time you tried reasoning with yourself, you just thought about how good he made you feel when you were alone together. 

Baekhyun was always so willing to be vulnerable with you, it made you feel appreciated. He was so open about his feelings, and honest with his intentions towards you that it made it difficult to push him away. You wanted to be able to show him the same kind of vulnerability as well, but the possibilities if you did still frightened you too much. 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to go on like this forever, sooner or later you had to figure out what to say to him. 

Your essay was plaguing you as well. You’d tried to start it on several occasions, but Plato’s writing was so old timey and incomprehensible you didn’t even know where to start. It also didn’t help that every time you tried to start writing, all you could think about was what Baekhyun would think. The idea of turning a shitty paper in for him to read and grade made you feel sick. You knew you were shooting yourself in the foot putting it off but you just couldn’t bring yourself to start it either. 

“You’ve cleaned everything in the apartment. Twice. What’s with you today y/n?” Mia asked as she walked out of her bedroom and into the common area, finding you once again wiping down all the surfaces in the kitchen. 

“I’m trying to distract myself, was that not obvious?” You knew what was coming next. 

“Baekhyun still on your mind?” 

Yes. He was. In every possible way, good and bad, and you couldn’t stop it. 

“I think I do like him.” 

“See! I knew it!” You rolled your eyes at her. “Anything exciting happen yesterday? Did you decide to keep the money?” She asked, sitting down at the dining room table, you sitting down across from her. 

 “I’m keeping it, I tried giving it back but he told me some stuff and turns out he doesn’t need it after all.” 

“So he IS rich?!” 

“Yeah... although not from anything cool or fun. His rich parents died recently.” 

“Oh shit, that sucks. That must’ve been an awkward conversation.” 

“Not really. I don’t know why but talking to him is getting easier and easier. I even stayed after he told me I could go.”

“You really must like him then, damn. Can’t blame you though, he is hot.” You shot her an angry look but you both knew she was right. “So what are you gonna do about it?” 

“Do about what?” 

“You liking him. He obviously likes you a lot too, so what happens next?” 

“Nothing. He’s my professor.” 

The look she shot you next said something reminiscent of ‘are you fucking serious’.

 “Oh come on y/n this guy is hot, and rich, and super into you. Even if he is your professor you can’t pass up a fling at least.” 

“And when it ends? What then? Or if someone finds out he’s fucking a student? He’d lose his job and it would be my fault.” 

“No, it would be his fault, and he’s rich anyway so it wouldn’t even matter.” 

You thought back to your last conversation with Baekhyun, and what he said about his parents. Even if he did choose to risk it for you, the thought of him losing a job that meant so much to him still didn’t sit right with you. 

“It would matter to me. Either way I don’t want other students shit talking me either. If my classmates found out there was something between us it would be hell.” 

“All I'm hearing right now, is that you just need to not get caught. The semester is only 16 weeks, as long as nothing gets out while you’re in his class nothing too bad can happen. You just have to be careful.”  

You thought about it, and she wasn’t exactly wrong. As long as nothing got out while you were his student, nothing too bad could happen. 

“He won’t lose his job if people find out we’re together later on when I’m not his student anymore, right?” 

Mia shrugged. “He doesn’t hold any power over you anymore then so I don’t see why he’d get in any trouble. People might just think it’s weird since he’s older. How old is he anyway? He looks young.” 

“I’m not exactly sure... Somewhere around 30? Late 20s maybe? I should ask him.” 

“Yeah you should. I still have homework I need to do, I should get back to that.” She said before getting herself a glass of water and retreating back to her bedroom. 

~

The next morning you were exhausted. You hadn’t gotten much sleep because of everything that was going through your head. You wanted Baekhyun, and he wanted you, but there was still too much risk involved. But part of you kept thinking about what Mia had said as well. Could a fling really be that bad? 

You were nervous to see him too. You still hadn’t given him an answer to his question, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to dodge it forever. Lying seemed like a decent option, but you knew with how honest and vulnerable Baekhyun always was with you, you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to lie to him. Especially when you did want something more with him, you were just scared. 

As philosophy class drew closer and closer you felt uneasy. You felt bad seeing Baekhyun again without giving him an answer, but you didn’t know how or what to say. You only hoped he wouldn’t press you for it. 

Class went by and you didn’t speak to him. He didn’t keep you after either, which was a relief. You had been hoping he’d at least go over some stuff that would help you on your essay, but you had no such luck, and you needed it done by midnight if you wanted any credit. 

When you got home you cursed yourself for procrastinating so much, but you had other homework too and you knew you’d be able to focus on that better, so you started it first. 

Eventually your mind got sucked into your physics assignment, and you forgot about Baekhyun and the essay, too focused on the task at hand. 

By the time you were done with your other assignments it was 8pm. Four hours until you had to submit your essay. One hour went by just reading and rereading the text you were supposed to write about. Another was wasted on an intro paragraph you kept deleting, because you still couldn’t understand the text. When 10pm hit, and you started to panic.  

You realized that you weren’t going to be able to do it. Your mind was now in freak out mode and you couldn’t concentrate anyway. Either the paper wasn’t getting turned in at all, or you needed to do something fast. In any other class you would’ve BS-ed  your way through it to turn at least something in, but you just couldn’t do that knowing Baekhyun was going to read it. You weren’t going to be able to submit it that night, but you needed to at least contact him and explain so he wouldn’t think you were stupid. 

By 10:30 you found yourself scrolling through your contacts, staring at his name. You’d thought about emailing him, but he probably wouldn’t see until morning and you didn’t have that much time. 

In hindsight you probably would’ve been fine to just send an email and try to get an extension, but the combination of anxiety over your grade and wanting to talk to him had his name in your phone looking better and better. 

So you called. 

Your nerves were on fire as you waited for him to hopefully pick up. Was this stupid? Would he even answer? Worst of all, what if he was disappointed in you for not being able to do the assignment?

After a few rings, he picked up. “Hello?” 

“Hi Baekhyun, it’s y/n.” 

“Y/n? Are you alright what’s going on?” You could hear the concern in his voice even over the phone, and you remembered why he gave you his number in the first place. 

“I- I can’t do the essay.” You felt your voice shake, before unloading all your grievances in one breath “I read the thing a million times and I still have no idea what it’s about and I put it off until tonight cause it was making me so anxious but I still can’t focus and now it’s too late and I don’t know what to do and I’m freaking out.” 

You heard him sigh. “Slow down, It’s okay, I know it’s a difficult assignment. Have you at least started?” 

“No..” You felt tears swelling in your eyes, threatening to spill and you’re sure he can hear it in your voice even over the phone. “Can I just skip this one? I tried to start it so many times but I don’t know how to analyze something I can’t even understand.” You choked out. 

“Y/n...” You could tell he was thinking of what to do. He probably shouldn’t give you special treatment, and you knew that but right now you hoped he would just give in. Unfortunately you had no such luck. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you just not do it. It would make it too obvious that I’m treating you differently than other students.”

“Then can you at least help me? Or give me more time? Please?” You begged.

“I’m still in my office. I can help you if you meet me here.” 

You felt your palms get sweaty and your heart beat faster at the idea of going to his office again after what had happened last time, especially this late at night and in such a fragile state. 

“O-okay. I’ll be there in 10. Bye.” You said, hanging up before he could respond.

Quickly you got on some shoes and drove yourself to the building his office was located in. Last time you’d been in there he’d asked you about your feelings for him, and now you had to go back. You told yourself to just focus on getting the essay done, but the thought still hung around in the back of your mind as you walked down the hall towards Baekhyun’s office. You felt jittery and embarrassed, but you needed to do this for your grade.

After taking a few deep breaths to ready yourself, you knocked on the door, and heard a muffled “Come in” from the other side, so you let yourself in. Baekhyun was sitting at his desk, which was covered in papers you assumed he’d been grading. Instead of the nicer clothes he would usually wear during lecture, he was just wearing a black t shirt and sweats now. 

“You know you scared the shit out of me when you called. I thought you were in danger or something.” He said to you as you sat down in front of him. “I really didn’t think you’d call me over school work.” 

“I’m sorry..” 

“It’s okay! I’m not mad or anything, just surprised. What part of the text are you having trouble with?” 

“All of it...” You felt your lip starting to quiver. “I’m sorry I know this sounds so stupid and you probably think I’m just trying to take advantage of how you like me but I promise it’s not like that.” You said, looking down and fidgeting with your hands, trying to hide the frustration on your face.

Baekhyun crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, smiling. “I never said I thought that. I told you it’s not an easy assignment, it’s ok if you’re having trouble. Plato can be difficult especially for people who aren’t used to reading things that old.” 

“I should’ve at least started earlier...” 

“Probably, but it’s too late to dwell on that now. Let’s just try to go over the reading together, yeah?” You nodded. 

He moved his chair to your side of the desk before opening your textbook to the reading for the essay. 

“So the first thing that makes The Ring of Gyges so confusing is that you don’t really know who’s talking. Basically it’s a conversation between Plato and his brother Glaucon where they’re discussing justice, and it’s actually Glaucon speaking for most of it, not Plato.” 

You were listening to what he was saying of course, but you were still distracted by the proximity. Baekhyun was sitting right next to you now, arms almost touching. The only other time the two of you got that close was at the club. And you did not need to be thinking about that while he was explaining your assignment to you. 

“Are you following me so far?” 

Your eyes immediately shot up from the book to meet his, and you quickly nodded. Having him look you in the eyes again like that made your face feel hot.

“Glaucon argues that people only peruse justice for the benefits of it, and not because they actually want to be good people. He uses the example of a ring that grants it’s user invisibility, therefore allowing them to do unjust things like steal without being caught. He tells Plato a story about a man who finds such a ring and uses it do overthrow the king.”

You groaned. “It still doesn’t make sense though, what does some story about a stupid ring have to do with justice?” 

“Well, if you were given the ability to steal and deceive people for your own benefit, without ever having to worry about getting caught, wouldn’t you do it too?” You stayed silent. “Basically, what you need to understand is what Glaucon is arguing. He’s saying that doing good deeds isn’t a part of human nature, and everyone would behave unjustly if they knew they would never get caught. Therefore, justice is something people pursue not out of want, but out of fear of the consequences if they don’t.”  

All you could do was stare at him. It was infuriating how attractive he sounded while explaining it to you. 

“Do you have a bit of a better idea what to write about now? Remember it’s only two pages, so don’t stress too much.” 

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts. “Yeah, it makes a bit more sense now... do I still need to finish it tonight or?” 

“Friday. Just email it to me by midnight on Friday and I won’t count it late.” He said, smiling again. 

“Thank you for doing this, I’m sorry it was so late and everything.”

Baekhyun just chucked, “You know if it’s you I don’t mind. You could keep me here all night with questions and I wouldn’t stop you. But you understand now, right?” 

The way he was smiling at you now along with the closeness was making you slightly dizzy. 

“I think so, Glaucon is basically saying that injustice is better than justice then right? Because everyone would do unjust things if they’d always get away with it.” 

Baekhyun nodded. 

“So according to him the best way to live life would be to do things you know are wrong, but without being caught.” 

“Exactly. See, I knew you were smart, y/n.” A smirk had made its way onto his face as he spoke. 

You couldn’t help connecting what he was saying to what you were feeling inside towards him. You wanted him, and you knew it was wrong, but how could you deny it to yourself when it felt so right? 

“Baekhyun...” You asked, hesitantly. “D-do you think it’s okay to do things you know are wrong, as long as no one finds out?”

“I think it depends what you’re talking about.” He answered, now looking you in the eyes again with intensity. “I would never kill anyone, for any reason, even if I knew I could get away with it. But, if I really wanted something, I think I would take it.” 

You were hyperaware of how his eyes were now scanning your face, lingering on your lips. “Take what?”

A hand made contact with your thigh, slowly moving up until he stopped, right below the hem of your shorts. His thumb drew soft circles on the sensitive inner flesh, giving you goosebumps. 

“I know you feel it too, you want this, don’t you?” Baekhyun asked, now moving a stand of hair out of your face. He let his hand rest on the back of your neck, keeping you facing towards him. 

Your heart felt like it was about to short circuit from how fast it was beating. Your palms were sweaty and you could feel yourself shaking slightly. The way his thumb stroked your neck beneath your ear made you shiver, and you knew he saw. All you could do was stare back at him, dumbfounded. Any words you tried to get out stuck in your throat. He was right, you did want it. Now more than ever. 

“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you right now. I dare you.” He said, running his thumb over your bottom lip, eyes fixed on how it trembled beneath his touch. He was slowly moving your face closer his, but you didn’t stop him. 

Your silence told Baekhyun all he needed to know, and his lips quickly found yours. Immediately you let yourself melt into the kiss. You felt your whole body buzzing, finally getting what it had wanted for so long. His lips felt unbelievably soft against yours, moving in a slow rhythm as his other hand came up from your thigh to cup your face as well. You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, letting it become messier and more desperate. 

“I like you” you pulled away just enough to whisper “so fucking much.” You felt him grin into the kiss as your lips met again. 

He tasted like strawberries, and you felt high as your lips kept crashing together with more and more need. Your whole body felt like it was set on fire and simultaneously dunked in an ice bath, every nerve vibrating with want.    

When Baekhyun pulled your bottom lip gently between his teeth you let out a soft moan, and he started to lose it. He broke the kiss, standing up and pulling with him, before backing you up against the wall, a hand on either side of your head. 

“Sweetheart, don’t push me” He breathed, and started peppering kisses along the side of your neck, from under your ear down to your collarbone, sucking and biting on the way. 

Trapped between him and the wall, you felt weak and breathless. Your brain was in overdrive and you gasped at his ministrations, hands burying themselves in his soft hair.  His hands had traveled down to your waist, holding you against him tightly.

“Baekhyun” You breathed out, rubbing your thighs together as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot. 

“Fuck, y/n. Don’t say that.” He forced the words out through gritted teeth.

His body pressed you into the wall, and your arms wrapped around him pulling him into you even tighter. He was completely consuming your senses and your knees felt wobbly from the intensity of it all. He was already smothering your entire front, but you tried to pull him even closer regardless.

You felt something hard press into your hip as his mouth covered yours again, and this time you shamelessly moaned his name into his open mouth. 

Much to your disappointment, Baekhyun immediately detatched himself from you, backing up until his back hit the opposite wall of the office. You could see how turned on he was by the outline of his dick through his pants and the pained look in his face. 

“Fucking christ...” He said, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. You just watched from the other side of the room. He kept his eyes closed and you observed as his jaw clenched and unclenched before you heard him continue. “You have to go. If you don’t I’m gonna fuck you on my desk and I won’t be gentle.” 

Your throat went dry at his crude words, but you couldn’t deny your own arousal. You walked back towards him, reaching out to touch his chest which was now rising and falling rapidly, but he grabbed you before you could make contact. His grip on your wrist was so tight it was almost painful. His knuckles were white, and you could see a drop of sweat trickle down the side of his face. 

His eyes bore into your own with a stare that warned you not to try anything more. 

“I’m sorry y/n but you have to leave. Not tonight. Not like this.” With his free hand he grabbed your belongings off his desk, shoving them into your arms. 

Still speechless, he opened the door and pulled you outside before going back in and closing the door behind him. You stood and stared at his office door for a minute, recollecting yourself and processing what the hell had just happened. 

Eventually your shaky legs began making their way down the hallway, back towards your car. You were pretty sure a janitor saw you as you turned the corner just down the hall from Baekhyun’s office. You kept your head down, trying to hide your face best you could while hurrying past. 

Once you were sitting in your car, you slumped into the seat, mind still in a daze after what happened in Baekhyun’s office. You waited for your breathing and heartrate to slow down before you drove away. 

Baekhyun left shorty after you as well, unable to concentrate on anything but the sound of you moaning his name. He felt terrible for throwing you out of his office but he’d meant what he said. He didn’t want his first time to have you to be in his office, purely fueled by pent up lust. He wanted to give you more than that. 

More than anything, he just couldn’t believe he’d gotten what he’d wanted for the entire summer. It didn’t seem possible, but now it had happened. And you actually kissed him back. It felt too good to be true. He felt himself once again struggling to sleep, but this time because he was too excited. This time, he didn’t have to keep himself up wondering, he knew he had you. He just couldn’t wait to see what would happed now.

You on the other hand couldn’t stop worrying about that exact thing as you stared at the ceiling above your bed. What would happen now? The thoughts weren’t fearful anymore, there was just too many of them to shut your mind down enough to sleep. 

You’d finally allowed yourself to give into him, and there was no more turning back. 

Next Chapter

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

Playing with Fire

Part Five of the Just this Once Series

Warnings: Smut (no actual smut tho guys sorry), Masturbation (f), Teasing, Language, Dirty talk, Terrible Star Wars knowledge

Word Count: 2.3K+

Summary: A tease through the links and a bet fulfilled. 

A/N: This chapter is a little short, but I hope you all enjoy! This may seem a little anti climatic and messy but that’s on me guys, that’s my bad. Also this may seem different in tone if that makes sense? The next one will be more smutty goodness but with some injuries (and yes i used another random star wars planet don’t kill mee)

You’ve finally figured it out.

After about a week of travelling to your next destination, it finally occurs to you to just play at his own game. You know—fingering you in a crowded cantina, smirking to himself while you struggled to stay quiet in that fucking booth...  

But first, you must say that Edis is a strange place. Rain falling at every hour with apparently no signs of ever letting up, and the humidity is unforgiving—how Mando is handling it in all that armor and padding, you’re almost too afraid to ask, because there’s just no way that he’s comfortable, and an uncomfortable Mando can lead to a grumpy one. 

Maker you’re grumpy yourself if you’re being honest. The Child has been restless lately, like the heat is getting to him as well, and that’s been taking a toll on your (already) poor sleep schedule; Mando tries to help, but there’s only so much he can do. However, it has given you the chance to think of the perfect payback for your little deal—or bet is a better word—and you gotta say, you’re a little proud of yourself for coming up with this evil—and small—tryst in the first place. 

If it’ll work the way you want it to, time will tell. 

“Were you even listening?”

The modulated crackle startles you from your thoughts. You turn in the pilot’s seat, making contact with the visor and the stiffness of his posture confirms your suspicions—he’s hot and grumpy.   

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Lost in my thoughts.”

He doesn’t acknowledge it. “I’m leaving. They should be nearby, and everything should work out as long as you and the ship stay hidden.”

Like anyone could. Mando isn’t messing around on this one—well, the man doesn’t mess around with anything, actually—and he’s made damn sure that not only are you available with a few weapons nearby (some hidden, of course, just in case), but that the Razor Crest is shadowed by towering trees a bushes in this small part of the rainforest; it’s nearly impossible to even see the gunk through the one of the thickest part of the forest. If anything finds you, they most likely won’t come back alive.     

“Okay. Good luck.”

He gives you one nod and the cape whips as he turns around, strutting towards the ladder as you follow behind. Mando checks on the kid—sitting up in the middle of the haul with a few little toys surrounding him—and gives him a gentle caress of his floppy ear before using his vambrace to open the ramp. He doesn’t give you a glance back, and that’s okay with you, but you can’t deny the slight stinging in your chest when he disappears into the foreign planet.   

“Alright little guy,” you say with a grunt as you plop down on the floor next to the Child. “Let’s figure out what to do.”

***

Ten days. 

Mando has been gone longer on bounties like this, believe or not, but that still doesn’t ease your increasing anxiety when the com link stays silent; you suppose you’re used to the quickness of his updates. 

Today, after hours of entertaining the baby the best you could, you can finally settle comfortably in the pilot’s chair… but now what?

Sleep, your body says, because what else is there really to do? Don’t, your mind tells you, because you have the baby here alone on an unfamiliar planet and anything could happen. A part of you wants to go out and check the foreign terrain. One look shouldn’t hurt—  

“Hey,” his voice speaks through in statics. 

You quickly fumble with the com, feeling like a clumsy mess when you almost drop it in your haste; he’s caught you by surprise, for about the hundredth time. 

“Y-yeah. Yeah I’m here,” you stammer. 

“Not so close,” he tells you, annoyed and tired. 

You wince and pull your hand back from your mouth. “Sorry. Good news, I hope?”

“Yes. And no. It’ll be at least a few days before we’re out of here.”

That sucks.

You suspect that the quarry is indeed with him by the short words, and that’s okay, because with your plan now in the front of your brain, fresh anew like the first time you cococked it in the wake of sleep, washing your quick irritation away, your chance is finally here. 

“Mando,” you say as sweetly as you can—your heart skips a beat when there’s a moment of silence. “They can’t hear me, right?” you continue before you can find out if the com is dead or not. 

This is incredibly risky. Even a little unfair of sorts, given that he’s technically working right now, and that leaves no room for games or distractions—the moment is just too good to pass up.   

Another minute goes by. You sink in your chair in disappointment, ready to admit defeat. 

“Not now.”

Yes. 

“This was part of the deal, Mando,” you remind him. “And I’m already starting to get wet.”

That isn’t a lie. The slickness of your arousal is starting to seep from your core—fourteen days (counting the week it took to get here) is a long time, and as long as you can get him to keep talking, this will work beautifully for you.    

A pause. “I can’t…”

“I’ll do all the talking,” you lick your lips and slink down comfortably, sliding your hand along the length of your neck, imagining it’s his hand wrapping around your throat. “You just listen. You can do that, can’t you?”

You wait, and for a split second you’re afraid that, yet again, you’ve done something wrong. You really have to start working on that.   

“You don’t—”

“Okay.”

Maker. Maker okay. 

“I uh—” what were you going to say to him when you thought of this in the first place? “I… you know what I think about when you’re gone?” You know he can’t answer much, not without giving himself away, but you pause anyway for dramatic effect. “First, I imagine you stalking towards me like you always do… like I’m one of your bounties.”

Your pussy quivers in excitement as you close your eyes and picture him doing just that, sliding your hand down to your chest, groping your covered breast and trying to mimic the same amount of pressure he applies to them—you really wish it was his hand instead. 

“Then you cage me in, leaving me with nowhere to go. There’s a specific type of exceleration to it. One that makes things even more… exciting.” You pinch your nipple and whine, loud enough to give him a good show—Stars you hope that quarry can’t hear you through the baskar bucket of his. “You like to drag it out, to watch me shiver in anticipation, and fuck if I don’t like it either.”

You can hear the light breathing through the comlink. A spark of victory, early victory, runs through your body and straight to your pussy, neglected and hungry for any type of friction. 

“And then,” your hand slides further down to the waistline of your pants, fumbling with the buttons. “You touch me. Softly, at first, because you love to tease—” a barely audible sigh interrupts, bringing a cheeky grin to your lips. “—and I think you’re an ass man, because you never miss a chance to lay your hands on mine.” Your fingers slither their way under your panties; your inner thighs twitch at the first brush of your finger against your aching clit, and more slickness escapes your cunt. “And you ghost your fingers over my breasts, down my stomach, over my hips where you like to grip them tight, to my dripping pussy…”

Not a peep from the com. You’re surprised he’s kept his composure. You shouldn’t be, yet a part of you is. 

“And,” you go on with a moan. “When I feel your thick fingers paw at me, rip my clothes off and fuck my pussy deep, getting me ready for your big cock while your teeth scrapes against my neck—oh fuck…” The curse slips from your lips without warrant; your fingers buried in your pussy like you’re explaining to him. “My fingers are not the same—” you bite down on your lip as you curve your fingers, delicately trying to find the spot Mando finds with precision. “They don’t make me feel as full as yours do. But I’m still fucking myself with them, Mando. While you’re out there, and I’m in here… it sucks, doesn’t it. Having to stay quiet when all’s you want to do is fuck me until I can feel you for days and day after, your cum leaking from me, and who knows, maybe I won’t even let you cum.”

“You will,” he nearly growls, and that’s an early sign you’re in a world of trouble when he does get back. “That’s part of the deal.”

“...What...deal…”

The faint voice cuts in annoyingly, and Mando shoots back with a decent threat that’d make you terrified for your life; again, it’s probably wrong that it does nothing to deteriorate the fluttering of your wet muscles. 

“Keep going,” his tone leaves no room for argument. 

Your fingers move faster. “I think you should be a little nicer to me,” you sigh dramatically. “You’ve been gone for so long, leaving me all by lonesome… you like to do this a lot I’ve realized, leave me high and dry. But you might have a chance to fuck my face if you’re a good boy.”

You have to stifle your giggle at the last bit. 

“Yeah, you’d like that,” you coo. “And I’d swallow every drop.”

A barely audible exhale filters through the link. You’re right there with him, your face scrunched in concentration. 

“I’m happy as long as you’re inside me,” you continue on with delight. “You’re an asshole sometimes, but you can fuck.”

Mando sighs again, this time feigned with theatorical frustration—well in his case, it may be truthful, but it sounds more for the quarry’s (and yours) benefit than the latter.   

This is more of an ego boost for him more than anything as well, if you think about it, but as long as you get him riled up and you cum, that’s enough for you. So you curve your fingers the best you can given the compromised position and flick your thumb against your clit, images of his gloves sliding down your pants in the cantina playing through on repeat. This time you moan louder for your own amusement, imagining him struggle; it’s sweet, sweet revenge. 

“And?” He asks suddenly—calm and steady. 

His voice, even modulated like that, makes your muscles twitch as the coil in your lower stomach boils to a tight flame, and the sloshes of your fingers slinking in and out of you adds to the euphoria clawing through your core. 

“Your cock,” you whimper. “Stretches me out so good every time. You’re so big, Mando, so thick in every way and it feels amazing. I bet you miss the way my sweet cunt clenches around you.” You bite down on your lip to hide a groan, wanting to hear his response as your fingers move even faster, scratching against the itch. “Don’t you?”

Your pussy flutters around your fingers at the first scrape against your sweet spot (finally!), and—well fuck, you’ve never seen much of him to actually picture what his cock looks like driving in and out of you at the verioucious pace he usually chooses, so this is a little bit difficult than you thought it’d be; as long as you keep fucking yourself like this…

“Yes.”

Your breath shakes as you exhale. “Shit I wish you were here right now,” you rub your clit harder. “I-I want you to fuck me so hard when you get back, Mando. Want you to—hmm—to grab me so hard that I have bruises the next day. Use me. And you’d come right in my tight little pussy, isn’t that right?”

You don’t expect him to answer this time. Not when you’re so gone in your little cheraid and your pussy clenches harder and harder until there’s nothing but white noise tying you down to this moment. 

“Fuck. Fuck I’m so close.” 

You try to conjure the feelings Mando gives you—the feel of his hands, pressing down all over you, fingers leaving indents in your skin, his mouth on your neck, biting down on the sensitive flesh until you’re marked; the drag of his cock along your slick walls until there’s tears in your eyes and you can feel him all the way to your cervix. 

“Mando,” you whine, then bite down on your lip again; the Child certainly doesn’t need to hear this. “I… I need to hear you. Say something, anything.”

“Go ahead,” gruffer, close to a grunt—your pussy gushes at that. “Now.”

The command is clear, and it’s not going to take you that much to ride the waves of your orgasm starting to crash down over you. Your moans and whimpers trapped behind tight closed lips and your fingers covered in your juices, it takes a few more curves of your fingers and tight circles on your clit to feel the hard and delectable clench of your inner muscles. 

“Yes,” your body trembles. “Oh Ma—” You hide the rest of the plea behind a muffled scream as short bursts of pleasure sparks through your entire body, your fingers trapped in the squeeze of your cunt as more juices flood down the slope of your ass, milking every drop of your orgasm. 

After a few long moments your tense muscles relax and deflate, relieved and satisfied. Though, the only problem is that it is short lived, an orgasm small enough to hold you over until the real deal comes back. Speaking of…

“Mando?” You breathe. “Still with me?”

“I’ll be there soon. Be ready.” And then nothing. 

Chuckling to yourself, you wince as you slowly pull your fingers out, wiping your slick covered fingers on your pants. 

And now you wait.    

For however long that’ll fucking be. 

[hardskz]

a penny for your thoughts.

pairing — han jisung x female! reader

genre — trope inversion of the soulmate au, college au, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff-ish, smut; oral, possessiveness kink, praise kink, safe word, size kink, first time

synopsis — life isn’t easy when you belong to the 1% of the world population that has a soulmate, know who your soulmate is and happen to be utterly in love with said soulmate’s best friend. alternatively, jisung can hear all of your unfiltered thoughts and has heard enough of your horny fantasies to the point where he wants to throw up, so he takes matters in his own hands. 

note — i think i’m gonna cry this work is my 11k word BABY i’ve never been THIS invested over a fic. this is purely self-indulgent and an emotional rollercoaster ride if you ask me. this fic is all over the place it’s chaotic and i apologize in advance for many italics you are welcome i hope you CRY and SUFFER with me because completing this bitch was a midlife crisis in itself. that being said, i appreciate any form of constructive criticism so pls go ahead and rip my baby apart sdkjl

“You’re staring again,” Hyunjin notes. Seungmin and Jeongin stifle a burst of laughter while Felix, whose head is resting on Hyunjin’s lap, sends you a look that resembles Candace from Phineas and Ferb whenever she finds her brothers creating some whacky futuristic shit, laughs like a madman and then resumes to call her mother with an ear-splitting MOOOM! because she’s so certain that her brothers are busted this time.

“Am not,” you huff as you tear your eyes away from the guy just sitting a little bit farther away from you, basking in the warm glow of the sun. Today he’s sitting in the perfect angle, giving you the best view on his side profile. His signature cap is perched right on top of his head but even then, you can see how his eyes brighten up and how the corners of his lips tug upwards as he laughs at his friend’s joke.

“You’re a worse case than the Mary Sue protagonist of every romance anime ever.” Seungmin snorts before he playfully nudges your side with his shoe. “Just say you want Seo Changbin to bang you and go.”

“Hey! We have a child present!” Hyunjin chastises, to which Jeongin rolls his eyes.

“I’m not a child. We’re all in fucking college.”

“Fine, not a child then. The baby has been corrupted! Don’t swear, it sounds so wrong coming from you!”

“Shut up. It’s called freedom of speech!”

“It’s ‘shut up Hyung’ to you!”

Felix groans in distress and is probably rethinking his life choices. Seriously, what does Felix, resident hopeless romantic, see in Hyunjin? Sure, he’s good-looking and a great friend when he’s not bitching around or hovering over the nearest trash can after taking too many shots. But a romantic? Please, Hyunjin can’t even eat without making a mess out of his shirt.

“I don’t want him to bang me,” you mutter and receive a collective ‘yeah sure’ look. “Fine, I don’t want him to bang me only. He’s nice,” you retort before your eyes flit back to him for a millisecond. By now, Changbin has put his hands on the grass and is leaning back, enjoying the sunlight while listening halfheartedly to the other guy blabbering.

“And hot. We get it. Now get dicked,” Seungmin deadpans, earning flabbergasted looks from everyone and a smack from Hyunjin.

“Show a little more empathy, you dickwad. She’s whipped.”

“Anyway—“ Felix sits up, earning a pout from Hyunjin but he blatantly ignores it, and directs the conversation back to the previous topic before the other two bump heads, “(y/n), you have his number. You’re not strangers, so why don’t you just make a move?”

You glance at him with horror in your eyes. “What do you expect me to do? Ring him up and ask him to hang out with me because I find him cute?”

“Uh, duh? Last time I checked, that’s how you ask someone out.”

“Absolutely not.”

“New idea.” Seungmin butts in. “Why don’t you ask Han Jisung—“

“No.”

“Agreed.” Hyunjin shoots you a nod of approval before Seungmin can start yet another interrogation about your bitter hatred towards Jisung. Jisung, who happens to be said friend of Changbin that is laughing beside him right now. “He must think he’s so much better than us because he’s hanging out with the senior geniuses of the music production major. Then again, Seo Changbin and Bang Chan are on a different level than us commoners.”

“Speaking of Chan,” you quickly say to steer the conversation away from the personification of everything you hate. “Where is he? It’s so weird seeing the trio incomplete.”

This time, Jeongin chimes in. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Chan and that one language major — you know, the one who collapsed a while back?” When all he’s met with are clueless faces, Jeongin sighs. “Seriously, you guys should keep up with campus news. I swear, everyone and their mothers already know by now. But anyway, they’re soulmates. It’s also the reason why Chan has been pulled out of the boxing team until the end of the semester and had to cancel their training camp as soon as she broke down.”

Felix does a double-take. “But Chan’s the ace of the boxing club!”

“It is what it is.” Jeongin stretches his legs out, shrugging. “What else is to expect when you have the proximity link and need to be around your soulmate within a certain distance unless you want death?”

“Poor guy. Must be a smack in the face for him, now that he’s got a soulmate and happens to have the worst link one could have.” Seungmin says.

“The tattoos are worse though.” Hyunjin fires back. “I mean, you’re literally born with a tattoo of your soulmate’s name and then grow up knowing that you have one? And even if you never meet them, you won’t have better chances with others if you want some romance. Who in their right mind wants to have a lover who’s got someone else’s name tattooed on them since birth?”

“No one.” You chuckle. “Absolutely no one.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you and Jisung would probably be on better terms. He’s sunshine on legs and looks decent from an objective point of view.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe you’re childhood friends and have been neighbors ever since your first shit in your diapers. Perhaps you would be clowned from being inseparable once in a while, but you’d go with it and then shrug it off as if it was nothing.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe that being soulmates doesn’t equal the downfall of two people. Sure, the fact that people are bound to each other and the danger of growing too dependent on that person remains, but it probably won’t be so frowned upon. Probably. Hopefully.

However, as much as you want to twist it, another lifetime is not this lifetime, the reality.

In reality, you and Jisung are only neighbors because the universe has some kind of inexplicable hatred towards you. Seriously, you must’ve done something wrong in your previous life to be punished in this one. And because the universe has sadistic tendencies and loves to make you suffer, the laws of the universe are just as equally fucked up.

The concept of soulmates is a lot of things, but most of all, it’s a mystery. There are endless possibilities for soulmate links, not all of them discovered. And unlike popular belief, soulmates do not have to necessarily share the same link. So voilà, even more fuckery from the universe.

There’s only one reason that justifies your wholehearted, unfiltered hatred towards Han Jisung. Well, only one reason that seems justified in this lifetime.

The tattoo is simple; just fine black characters under your collarbone that are nicely hidden under high-cut shirts.

But the fact that it’s his name tattooed on you since birth remains.

“Let me crash here for the night.”

“No.”

“Let me crash here for the night, please.”

“My answer is still no.”

The exasperation is plastered on Jisung’s face as he tries to keep his temper in check. Truth be told, it’s damn satisfying seeing him wanting to rip your head off but refraining to do so. Perhaps you’re enjoying this more than you expected at one o’clock in the morning. For the past five minutes, Jisung has been asking you to let him stay over for the night. You’d save him out of his misery and help a neighbor out who locked himself out of his apartment at this hour — well, if he wasn’t Han Jisung.

By now, he’s growing more impatient with every further rejection. “Oh come on, all my friends live on the other side of town and you can’t expect me to ask the old grandma next door! At this rate, I’m gonna freeze to death overnight!”

“Then go break a window or something,” you deadpan, ignoring the dramatic hand gestures he’s making to accentuate his words.

“The fuck? I’m not going to break into my own place.”

Not wanting to draw out the pointless conversation any longer, you’re about to slam the door shut when he blocks your action with his foot. “C’mon, just this one night. Please.”

He’s not budging anytime soon. His bullheadedness reminds you of Seungmin, who always tries to get Hyunjin wasted whenever you attend those Greek frat parties. Seungmin, who always succeeds in getting Hyunjin wasted, followed by Hyunjin hugging a bucket for the next few hours as he tries to get over the hangover. With a defeated sigh, you gesture Jisung to come inside and don’t wait for him until he’s taken his shoes off at the entryway.

“Look, I know you don’t like me—“

“Well, ‘don’t like’ is putting it very lightly—” you scoff once he’s caught up to you in the living room. It’s not exactly spacious; the couch takes up most of the room and college assignments are spread all over the minuscule coffee table.

“You could at least treat me like a decent human being.”

That statement is enough to get your ears flaming. You whip your head in his direction, voice getting louder. “How can I when your existence is making my life worse than it already is! And I mean it literally! Just seeing your name whenever I look at myself through the mirror sickens me!”

“Stop acting like you’re the only victim here.” Jisung snaps back in the same manner. If there was a little bit of etiquette in the first place, it has all vanished now. “I’m not having it easier when all I hear from you is the dozen ways you want Changbin to fuck you dumb!”

You freeze.

“Cat got your tongue? It’s already bad enough that you have those kinds of thoughts about my best friend every single day.”

“But I thought— y-you had the proximity link?!” This has to be a joke. A very bad one at that. His proximity link is the very sole reason why you lived next to him. His soulmate link is the only reason why you’ve been stuck together like glue since you could walk.

Jisung taps his foot impatiently, running his hand through his hair. “That’s what I thought too until I started hearing things that nobody said around me. First, it was just a few thoughts every other day, but now you’re like an annoying radio that I can’t switch off.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then? I would’ve—“

“Stopped fantasizing about Changbin’s dick? And then you would’ve jumped to the next person. I don’t care if you like him or not, it’s none of my business. Changbin’s hot, anyone with eyes can tell. Besides, it’s not like you have a chance anyway…”

You feel your blood boiling at his underlying message and cross your arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jisung doesn’t bat an eyelash and says in a mocking tone as if stating the obvious. “No doubt that Changbin will make you feel good. But could you return the favor?”

That’s a low blow. Even for Jisung, that’s a low blow.

“I get that you’ve got a dirty mind. But those are just fantasies. Could you really execute them just the way you had in your head? You don’t even have experience in the first place.”

“If I sucked you off right now, you wouldn’t even be able to speak properly!” God knows what went over you when you countered. At this point, rage has taken over your brain and you don’t even realize what you just said right away. Not that it matters anyway; all you see is red.

Jisung just raises a brow, clearly unimpressed by your outburst. “Prove it,” he challenges casually and then flops himself onto the couch, legs spread wide. It’s an open invitation. “Go ahead, make me see reason with your oh so mind-blowing skills.”

The only thing you’re able to do physically is gape at him. He is joking, right? As if he actually means it—

“I knew it. Shameless in your head but too flustered to say it out loud, let alone following up with your bold statements.”

That seals the deal. You’re fuelled by anger and the desire to prove him wrong as you drop on your knees and are on eye level with his crotch. However, your spirit dissolves the longer you silently stare and realize that you have no fucking clue on what to do. Jisung is painfully aware of that too.

“I’m more terrified than turned on seeing your angry face.” He lets out an exasperated sigh before he pulls you up and directs you to sit on his lap. “Obviously it’s not working when neither of us is in the mood. You gotta get in the mood first,” he mutters, hands settling on your hips.

The look in his eyes is more composed now, but you can tell he’s being observant. As if you have clues written all over your face, he keeps you under his stern gaze. Then his eyes droop lower to your lips and he slowly leans forward.

Not even a second later, you firmly plant your hands on his shoulder and push him back. “No lips.”

If Jisung is judgemental about your sudden stunt, he doesn’t comment on it. “Anything else, your royal majesty?”

You’re too tired to react to his mockery and roll your eyes. “No marks.”

“I can work with that,” he mumbles more to himself rather to you. Then he leans forward again and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Surprised by his actions and new to the unfamiliar sensation, you tense up. Jisung seems to take notice of that too.

“Relax,” he orders, rubbing circles on your hips to help you loosen up.

Well, that’s easier said than done. It’s already bad enough that you’re gradually exposing yourself as the complete amateur you are, and out of all people who could’ve been the first to do any form of sexual advances on you, it just had to be Jisung. Perhaps you shouldn’t have rejected that one kid in high school who was the only one who ever had a crush on you. Even if that kid wasn’t your type and not a serious commitment anyway, maybe you would’ve at least some sort of experience with dick.

“A-ah—“ your breath hitches when he nips on the patch below your earlobe. He smiles against your skin as if he just made some scientific discovery and swipes his tongue on the same spot, eager to make you squirm. Not wanting to slip up anymore, you clamp your mouth shut with a hand.

“Let me hear you, baby. Just relax, I got you.” When the fuck did his voice start to sound lower and raspier? Where did ‘baby’ come from? All rationality and resistance leave your body when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

The cologne of musk lingers strong on him, almost intoxicating even, and you can’t form a cohesive thought anymore. The only things you are painfully aware of are an arm forcing your chest flush against his and his hot breath all over your neck.

You’re so far gone that you fail to notice that you’ve started grinding on his lap. Jisung moans softly into your neck as he encourages you to move with his hands.

“On your knees, baby,” he whispers after a while. A rush of disappointment runs through your veins once he detaches his lips from you and slides you off his lap, but all of that is forgotten once you see the prominent bulge in his pants.

Right. There’s a reason why you ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Jisung urges you to touch him with a simple nudge. “C’mon, baby. Take it off.”

You don’t waste time discarding his sweatpants. Just when you’re about to tug his underwear off, you notice the wet patch on the fabric. A surge of mischief washes over you as you boldly cupped his hard-on over his boxers, causing an obscenely loud moan from him.

He flinches, definitely not expecting that brashness from you, and throws his head back. “S-stop teasing me already and take that goddamn thing off or God help me what I’m going to do if you push my buttons.”

That. That was a threat. That dealt much more damage to you than you like to admit.

As much as you want to watch him break and see if he’d make his threats come true, you decide against your feelings and hook your fingers under the waistband and tug the fabric down in one swift motion. A groan leaves Jisung as his cock, fully hard and leaking precum, is exposed to the cold air. He’s certainly above average; on the longer side probably, and you’re conflicted on whether to think fuck, I want him in my mouth right now or fuck, how on earth is that supposed to fit into my mouth?!

You don’t get far with your inner conflict when a hand grabs a fistful of your hair and slowly urges you closer. The next thing you know, something is tapping your lips and before you fully register it, the tip of Jisung’s cock lies heavy on your tongue.

You carefully look up and meet Jisung’s hooded eyes. His shirt has ridden up a bit and flashes just a little bit of his toned stomach. That’s just enough of an indicator to see that Jisung is holding himself back, in case his irregular breathing hasn’t been a dead giveaway.

Jisung opens his mouth, about to say something, when you give an experimental suck on his dick. “Do something— f-fuck, a little more, baby.”

That’s enough to build your confidence up. You slowly take in more of his dick, sucking carefully and making sure to cover your teeth. The rest that doesn’t fit in your mouth is barely covered with your hands, and you messily try to coordinate your hands, switching between rubbing the base of his dick to cupping his balls.

“Mmh, use more pressure,” Jisung whispers, not trusting the stability of his voice when you fondle with his balls. A groan leaves him when you suck harder on his cock and switch back to swirling your tongue around. For a total beginner, you are holding yourself up better than he expected. Fuck.

“Focus on the tip fir— hhh- aa-ah...” His brain blacks out for a moment when you swirl your tongue around his tip and dare an experimental hum, the vibrations going straight down to his dick. The grip on your hair loosens, but it’s still firm enough to experience a sharp tug. “You’re doing good baby. So good.”

The combination of his sounds, the decent taste of precum on your tongue and the way his adam’s apple bops is enough to send you into sensory overload. You notice the way Jisung tenses his thighs, as to keep them still. You’re about to pull out completely to prevent your drool from getting on your face. However, before you get the chance to complain, he forces his length back on you that it grazes the back of your throat, nearly making you choke.

“Fuck, I— I’m gonna— s-soon—“ he hisses and you take it as a sign to speed up. At this point, your jaw hurts and a mixture of drool and precum drips down your chin. It’s borderline disgusting if you think about it, but the delectable sounds leaving Jisung compensates for it.

He sharply tugs on your hair, ordering you to pull off, but you slap his hand away. “I’m going to spill in your mouth if you don’t pull off right now—“ Jisung chokes on his words when you interrupt him with a hum as if to say so what? It doesn’t help that you’re looking up at him with teary eyes and a lot of conviction, even though you’re visibly struggling to keep half of his dick in your mouth.

When he cums, it’s accompanied but drawn out moans, and you forcing yourself to swallow the horrible texture. It’s not horrible per se, but you’d gladly refuse to swallow a second time if you were given the choice.

Jisung looks down at you with flushed cheeks and is about to wipe off the drool or cum or whatever liquid is staining your bottom lip, but you quickly block his hand. “I’ll clean up by myself.”

For a minuscule second, he looks defeated; he looks borderline disappointed, but before you can pinpoint his feelings for sure, his expression changes. “But what about you?” he asks, eyes raking down your body and stopping at the waistband of your pants.

“I’ll deal with it on my own.” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. All of sudden, you find it hard to breathe in the room as the realization settles into your brain. You just sucked off Jisung. Jisung, out of all fucking people.

“You sure?” Your eyes flit to him who looks like he’s been observing you the entire time. His breathing has calmed down, his lips look a little bit plumper than before and his hair sticks out in all different directions. Looking at his current state makes you feel sick, and your undying hatred for him starts growing again. It’s your fault that he looks so fucked out and—

Why the fuck did you even do that?

“Yes. Now stop asking before I change my mind and kick you out.”

Before he can have the last word, you turn on your heels and rush into your bedroom, ignoring the fact that your underwear is practically drenched.

You wake up to the smell of pancakes emerging from the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making breakfast?” Jisung throws you a questioning look and then plates the last batch of pancakes from the pan. “It’s the least I can do after you were friendly enough to let me crash on the couch.”

Your eyes wander to the countertop to the two plates stacked with pancakes. Jisung finishes up the second plate and hands it out to you.

You stare dumbly at the plate. It’s too early for your brain to mouth filter to work, so the first thing you spit out is, “How do I know you didn’t poison it?”

“Are you fucking serious—“ Jisung squeezes his eyes shut, mutters something inaudible under his breath before he puts on the fakest smile he can muster. “I can take a bite if you really insist.”

“Give me that plate.” You point to the other plate on the counter. Presentation-wise, it looks the same as the one Jisung is offering you, minus the visible steam.

“There. Wanna switch again or can I finally eat?” he scoffs when you walk past him to get cutlery and sit at the dining table; it’s essentially a round wooden table where one of the legs is about to break. Two plates and a pitcher at most take up the entire surface. You really should consider buying a new table, but you have better things to spend on rather than that.

From your peripheral vision, you see Jisung rolling his eyes. Perhaps you were making an entire unnecessary circus, critically cutting through the pancake and inspecting each and every side before stuffing it in your mouth. But again, in your defense, it’s too early in the morning to show basic etiquette towards him out of all people.

You have to admit that visually, the pancakes look good. What you didn’t expect were the pancakes to taste just how they look. It looks like you couldn’t contain your surprise in you, judging by the amused smirk that finds its way onto Jisung’s face as he claims the chair across from you.

“As if you could actually cook,” you splutter because there’s no fucking way you are giving him that satisfaction of the day.

However, it seems to bemuse him even more. “You literally eat this every day and know the recipe by heart. With the excessive number of times you recite the ingredients a day, obviously, something got stuck in my brain,” he explains while cutting through his own portion.

The rest of breakfast is spent in silence. You both finish at the same time and while you’re washing the dishes, he’s stayed put in the chair, mindlessly checking something on his phone.

“You didn’t have to cook, you know. You could’ve just left.” you start. It’s already awkward enough that he’s still here. Bloody hell, you should’ve just waited with the plates and ushered him out of your place instead of just getting away as fast as possible from the table. Now that you think about it, this was probably the only time you two were somewhat amicable at such proximity. (Even if you didn’t talk at all. Still, it’s progress.)

He drops his phone on the table with a soft ‘bang’. “It’s the least I could do. Besides, I was starving too.”

“In other words, you’re taking advantage of my fridge?”

“Exactly.”

Just as you’re drying your hands, he’s about to leave. “I’ll get going, lecture’s starting in a few. And, uh, thanks for letting me stay here.”

You just shoot him a weird look. “You already thanked me once. How often do you wanna repeat yourself?”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Fine, next time I’ll just leave without a word then.”

It’s when he’s finally out of the door that his last words sink in.

“Yo, I have pics of sweaty Changbin in a jersey. How much do you wanna pay for those gems?”

You nearly choke on air. “What the fuck?” Really, that’s the only appropriate reaction.

“Hyunjin, this needs more context.” Felix looks like he’s seriously second-guessing his taste in men before shaking it off with a sigh and elaborates. “He’s been trying to find out some scoop about Chan for the campus blog and caught him in his angry boxer mode and Changbin was also there assisting him. Hey, did you know that Chan doesn’t tape his hands before punching the bag? Fuck, that’s so intimidating but so hot at the same time—“

“Yah! I’m your boyfriend! How can you say that in front of me?!”

Changbin. Changbin in a jersey. Changbin in a jersey and drenched in sweat. And Hyunjin seriously has HQ pictures of that Changbin.

It really, absolutely shouldn’t have been the first thing that crossed your mind, but the idea of that Changbin — bonus if he still has anger pent up in him — barging into your place and instantly throwing you on the bed—

“I’m not a perverted creep who’s gonna buy pictures of him that he doesn’t even know exist. Besides, isn’t that a violation of his rights? He never consented to those pics. This is college, you’re only working for the campus blog, not fucking Dispatch.” you deadpan.

“So you don’t even want to take a sneak peek at a picture?”

“No.”

You barely stepped a foot into your apartment when Jisung storms out of his own place and stops in front of you. “You fucking liar.”

“Excuse me? What the— hmph!”

The next thing you know, Jisung forces his way into your hallway, slams the door shut and crowds you against it. His face is invading your personal space, eyes enraged and jaw locked. Even though his anger is far from justified as you haven’t glanced at him ever since he stayed over, a tiny part of you believes that you pissed him off for good. It's not the first time you witness him angry. However, it's the first time you witness him look as if someone murdered his family and was trying to get revenge.

“I thought you took care of it yourself!”

“Took care of what?”

“Did you already forget that I can read your mind?!”

You scrunch your nose, trying to connect the dots in his words. It doesn't take long for you to realize that there’s no point in trying. A frustrated groan leaves you. “Why are you getting so riled up? I just breathed and you stormed into my place!”

“‘Bullshit. You weren’t just breathing,” he snaps, and you flinch when his hand lands a few inches beside your face with a loud pang. “You were thinking of Changbin again! And I mean that in the thousand sex positions and locations you want him to bang you kind of thinking! And also—“

“Also what?”

“I know you’ve been pent up for days. Seriously, why don’t you just get off like every other sane human being?”

His brutal delivery leaves you flabbergasted. How the fuck does he know that? No. No. No. He doesn’t know. He can’t. Just because he can read your mind doesn’t mean that you didn’t pleasure yourself after giving him that blowjob. Jisung’s probably bluffing — he has to be bluffing.

“W-why should I answer you?” you stutter. Suddenly the walls look much more interesting. When was the last time you painted the walls? Maybe it’s time to switch things up—

“Are you really about to get all cocky with me? Give me a break.” Jisung chews on his bottom lip after little deliberation. “You wanna know why? Because one of my best friends is going through a hard time that can utterly destroy his entire future thanks to the fucking universe! If that isn’t stressful as it is, I also see and hear all kinds of things you want Changbin to do to you. And your fantasies are also affecting me.”

You stare at him as if he sprouted eight new legs. “So you’ve also been…?”

“Sexually frustrated? Fuck yes. And it’s all your fault. So take responsibility and do something against it before I do.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“So what if I am?”

A cold shiver runs down your spine once you meet his stone-cold gaze. Frustration is displayed all over his features, from his labored breaths to the raised brow. He’s not playing mind games this time, he’s actually frustrated.

There are a billion red flags, a billion blinking signs saying NO DON’T YOU EVEN THINK OF DOING THIS! DON’T BE A FUCKING IDIOT in your mind. There are so many countless reasons why you should listen to your head, but the way Jisung is lusting after you is terrifyingly attractive.

You don’t trust your voice to respond verbally. Instead, you look down at your trembling hand and tug at the hem of his shirt. It’s just then when you also realize that your thighs are clenched. Fuck.

Jisung takes the hint. In the blink of an eye, he’s yanking you to your room, kicks the door shut with a loud ‘thud’, and manhandles you on the bed. You’re too stunned to react, and gulp when he hovers over you and strips off his jacket, leaving him in a white shirt that doesn’t hide his toned arms.

“Use the color system, alright? Green when everything is alright, yellow when you want me to slow down, and red when you want me to stop for good?” he asks.

“I know what the color system is,” you mutter, tearing your eyes away from him.

“That’s not an answer to my question.” he presses.

“Fine, color system it is. There! Happy? Now get on with it—“

Jisung pins your wrists above your head vigorously. “You don’t call the shots here. I do.”

Your stomach swoops. You really should’ve listened to your brain. This Jisung isn’t comparable with the Jisung you sucked off a few days ago. That Jisung was cocky — he’s always cocky, what are you even saying — but he still gave you room to breathe. This Jisung is downright scary.

“Good thing for you, I know exactly what you want me to do—” he starts sinisterly as his thigh settles firmly between your legs, pressing up against your clothed core. You suddenly regret wearing a skirt. “—and trust me baby, even if I couldn’t read your mind, I would do all those things because that’s what I plan on doing to you regardless.”

The look he gives you should be illegal. He shouldn’t be in the position to look down at you, as if he’s the king and has free reign over the consequences you are about to bear. Your head suddenly feels dizzy, and it’s way too hot in the room. It’s as if your bedroom has morphed into some vacuum as you’re desperately trying to breathe. Your system ceases to function once he presses his thigh even harder on your cunt, and all you manage to make is a pathetic whimper.

A menacing grin makes its way to his face. He’s clearly thriving on this ego-boost and continues to grind his thigh on you until your hips start to sway along. It seems like you found your voice again once he leans down and nibbles on your neck. Your moans are barely audible at first, but they slowly turn into drawn out mewls and labored breaths.

Your eyes snap open when he suddenly retreats his thigh and holds your hip in a vice grip, stopping you from moving. “W-what the fuck? Why did you stop?”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Huh?” You squint at him. “But you can read my mind!”

“I want you to say it out loud.”

There’s no way in the universe that you’ll do that. You’ll gladly wipe off that shit-eating grin out of his face whether he likes it or not, but with his hold on your wrists, that is deemed impossible.

You should say something out loud though. Yellow. That would save you from the humiliation. You could regain at least an ounce of control, not feel so pathetic anymore. It’s a simple word, just two syllables, six letters. The tables can be turned to your advantage. It’s easy.

You don’t.

“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you? You can’t say all those filthy thoughts in your head out loud because you’re ashamed, huh? Not when you love feeling so powerless, subject to anything I do to you. Face it baby, just admit that you’re a needy little bitch who wants to get off on my fingers so bad, and I’ll give you what you want,” Jisung growls in between hot, wet kisses he leaves on your neck.

“I—“ you whimper after some difficulties, “I’m your needy little bitch w-who wants to get off on your fingers.��

Jisung’s head pipes up, his face just hovering a couple of inches away from yours. With that little distance between you, you know it’s not a trick of the light and that his eyes are blown up with hunger, hunger, and more hunger. "Not just any bitch, but mine? Do you like it when I call you mine?"

You nod. From there on, it’s a chain reaction.

He wastes no time slipping his fingers past your panties, mindlessly trailing along your folds. You throw your head back in pleasure, bucking your hips into his touch. A cry leaves you the moment he slips a finger inside you, his thumb simultaneously flicking your clit. It’s sensory overload, rendering your rationality to a standstill.

Your utter downfall is marked once Jisung adds a second finger, never slowing down. He groans at the way you clench around him like a maniac, and the sounds he makes send jolts all over your body. You’re writhing under his grasp at this point, overstimulated by everything yet at the same time, you feel your arousal slowly fading.

“Does my baby feel good? Are you close?” Jisung asks, nipping on your earlobe.

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?”

The pit in your stomach grows. You’ve never experienced claustrophobia, but right now, it’s like everything’s suffocating you. “A-as in I don’t fucking know!” you exclaim shakily.

Jisung stops his movements. The weight on your wrists is lifted, and he looks at you, face unreadable. “(y/n), color. What’s your color?”

“Green. It’s just...” your trail off, avoiding his eyes.

“Just...?”

“I’ve never come before,” you confess in defeat. You really can’t believe that Jisung out of all people is the one to make the call of judgment. “I mean it! I’ve tried getting myself off but I never managed to... so cut me some fucking slack because I’m trying my best here and am still new to everything!”

Jisung stays silent. He stares at you in… confusion? disbelief? You really have no clue how to read his expression. Something negative for sure, though. He’s Satan’s spawn, for fuck’s sake. He’s probably thinking twice about going down on you, thinking about the gravity of a mistake he’s dealing with this time. He just has no clue how to articulate his irritation—

“You’re so cute, fucking hell,” he whispers.

You do a double-take. What? What did he say?

A small chuckle escapes his lips. As if he doesn’t mind. Wait. He doesn’t mind. “I’ll take good care of you. Trust me on this,” he says.

“That’s a little late coming from you, your fingers are literally up my vagi— h-ha-aah—“

“Just shut up and let me do the work.” Jisung rolls his eyes as he works you up again, fingers moving at a slower pace this time. Within minutes, he’s reduced you into a panting, stuttering mess. “You look so tiny and helpless underneath me. How adorable,” he coos, to which you just whine.

“Yeah? You like it when I call you tiny? Like it when your tight cunt already feels stuffed with just two fingers? Maybe we should stretch it to a third one, think you can handle that?” he presses on. That’s when he rams his fingers into a particular spot, making you arch your back. A knowing smile makes its way onto his lips. “Found it.”

“N-no, fuck— t-too much—” you babble, but he continues to abuse your sweet spot without remorse.

An unfamiliar pressure builds up in your abdomen, threatening to burst. Your whines grow louder, breaths shallower. You squeeze your eyes shut as you thrust your hips into his hand, desperate for more friction. “Jisung, I think I’m gonna—”

“Oh no, not like this,” he growls. “Keep your eyes open. I want you to look at me when you cum. So you’ll remember that it was me who made you cum for the first time. It’s me who’s making you feel good.”

That is easier said than done. You manage to open your eyes, though with a lot of difficulties. Scratch that, your eyes are barely open. Jisung is a blurry image, and you’re unable to register everything he says, the sound of his fingers squelching in your heat blaring in your ears.

You deem it fucking impossible to keep your eyes open when your orgasm hits you hard, body spasming from the sensation. But you keep on trying, keep forcing to set your eyes on him.

It’s all worth it though when the reward you get is a proud smile on his face, as well as streams of praises coming from his mouth.

It’s a continuous pattern that goes as follows:

1. You spend your days glued to your friends.

2. At least one of them (usually, it’s Seungmin) preaches how you should get your shit together and ask Changbin out.

3. Somehow, Changbin manages to leave a strong presence in your fantasies and you end up daydreaming about a scenario that stars him, you and a bed (if you’re feeling more daring, any other kind of surface or object he could pound you into.)

4. Jisung notices and forces the horniness out of your system.

5. You tell yourself that it’s the last time Jisung has such control over you.

And then the cycle repeats.

But here’s the thing: you find yourself doing no. 5 you with less conviction the more it happens. No. 5 is a formality at this point. You don’t know when you went the wrong path, but are you really in a position to complain? Jisung is good with you, he’s good with his fingers, even better with his mouth.

But then there’s this side of Jisung after he’s ruined you. He knows what you want to eat after you’re all cleaned up, knows what show you want to watch, knows if you want to just drop dead in bed or need someone to force you to finish your uni assignments. In short: Jisung is good. If you ever said that out loud and someone caught wind of it, they might assume that you liked him.

But Changbin. You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin—

You like Changbin, right?

“You’ve been looking at me as if I had the word CLOWN written over my forehead. Do I have something on my face or what?” you cross your arms and are met with your friends quickly averting their eyes from you.

Felix is the first one to break the silence. “Is that a new dress?”

“Not really. I recently found it when I cleared out my closet and decided to give it one more try. Why—“ you pause, and your expression turns grim once it dawns on you. “I look ridiculous in this, don’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“No!”

“You look like a clown.”

“Seungmin-Hyung, did you really just???”

If your crippling self-esteem hadn’t reached its all-time low before, then it definitely did now. “Geez, thanks,” you deadpan.

Jeongin is panicking, trying to provide some damage control as Felix snaps at Hyunjin and Seungmin. “Nobody cares about your two cents!”

“Well, but she asked for our opinion!”

“Nobody cares about your honest two cents!”

“Let’s just have lunch at the burger place and talk about this later, Hyung!”

You’re still dazed, chuckling dryly like those cartoon characters usually do when their soul leaves their body after someone dragged them. The entire situation is downright sad to witness. Is this a sign that your period is coming soon? That’s it! That probably explains why you’re acting so uncharacteristically sensitive today—

“The dress suits you, (y/n). You should wear it more often,” Changbin says.

“Hah?” you flinch and you’re sure your soul actually left your body when you turn to face Changbin smiling genuinely at you. Out of your periphery, you see Jisung and Chan behind him, but that’s not the point.

What? The? Fuck? Did he really just? Did Changbin just… compliment you?

You don’t realize how long you’ve dumbly stared at him until Jeongin nudges you. “Uhhhh, thanks!” you squeak out, cringing at how your voice just went up by an octave. You can feel Jeongin facepalming internally at your response, but you don’t blame him; you’d most likely do the same.

Changbin just smiles before he turns away to get to his next class, tugging Jisung and Chan with him.

Nevermind. Wearing this dress was the best decision you’ve made in your entire college career. The way you suddenly beam almost gives Felix whiplash — it’s obvious in the way he stares at you as if he ended up watching a comedy instead of the melodrama he was expecting. Hyunjin seems just as flabberghasted, Jeongin is still cringing from the secondhand embarrassment, and Seungmin just grins.

“Ah, so lover boy is the reason, I see.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my god, just shut up, Seungmin.”

Jisung is eating you out with such fervor that has you sobbing and thrashing around. He’s merciless in every literal sense, keeping your hips planted on the couch with his hands to the point where veins are bulging out, and lapping up your juices with his tongue, continuing even though you already came. He only pulls away, lips glistening in your release, once you tug on his hair despite his orders to not do that.

“Already spent now? But baby, we just started.” he pouts. “Or is it because it’s me? Would you defy if Changbin was the one eating you out?”

You stare at him with blown out eyes. Why the fuck is he bringing up Changbin now? The words hang heavy in your throat and are threatening to burst, but the death stare he delivers stops you from doing so.

Something’s not right.

“Don’t tell me... you’re wet again because I just mentioned Changbin. Changbin this, Changbin that, huh? It’s always only Changbin, Changbin, Changbin. And I thought I was doing you good all along,” he rages, making you flinch. He can be terrifying when he wants to be, but this time, he seems completely out of it. “You know what? I’m fucking done with holding back. You’re mine, got it?”

With that, he dives back into your cunt, sucking harshly on your clit as he slides a finger in you. You try to pry him off, but his weight is restraining you to the sofa.

“Jisung, it hurts— ouch—“ Panic starts to rise in you when he finally detaches himself from your nub, but instead, moves down to your thighs and starts sucking on the skin with a force much harder than you’re used from him. “What are you doing? S-stop—!”

“You’re mine, you’re supposed to be mine. I am literally written on your skin. So why can’t you just wish to be with me? Do I have to mark you up so that you’ll finally get it?”

It hurts. It hurts. Once you feel teeth on your skin, you burst into tears. “Red, Jisung, red!”

As if it was the spell to break the cast, Jisung finally snaps out of it. His features break once his eyes meet yours. Regret sticks onto him like a second skin, and he slightly moves his hand in an attempt to reach out to you. Your muscles react faster though, and you instinctively pull your legs towards yourself and shy away from him. The way his face drops by another layer of remorse tugs at your heartstrings, but the impending fear overpowers everything else you’re feeling.

“What’s going on? What went over you?” you ask.

Jisung’s breath is shaky. He feverishly opens his mouth several times, but no sound is coming out. He’s struggling to find the right words, maybe trying to find a somewhat reasonable justification for his behavior. In the end, he lets out a defeated sigh. “I can’t do this anymore without having feelings—” his voice is weak and vulnerable and you’ve never witnessed him break down like this before, “—I like you. I like you the way you like Changbin. I just...”

Silence.

“Leave,” you whisper, but in this silence, your voice rings out loud and clear. This is… too much weight for your heart to carry.

Jisung complies. He grabs his belongings from the floor, slips on his shirt, and leaves with his head hung low. His footsteps grow more and more distant, but then he stops.

“Are you really in love with Changbin?” His voice cracks.

You don’t muster up the courage to face him. “Just read my mind.”

It’s silent again. Too overwhelming. You’re waiting for yet another outburst of him, waiting for his “I want you to say it out loud”, because that’s how the conversation always goes.

The last thing you hear is the front door falling in its lock with a soft click.

You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin you like—

You like him, right?

Things have changed.

You and Jisung haven’t crossed paths ever since, not even passed each other by in the hallways. It’s weird since you’ve grown used to seeing him every day outside of your apartment complex. You’ve never really acknowledged each other’s presence with a wave or something in the sorts; it was just a second where your eyes met, and then your days went on.

That being said, you run into Changbin quite frequently. If you ever exchanged words, it’s nothing more than friendly small talk and the one or other compliment about his music. Talking to Changbin is nice; he makes you smile.

You know a little bit more about Changbin now, like his favorite ice cream flavor or the fact that he has a pokemon plushie named Gyu. It’s cute, and you chuckle when you think about how you’d pay good money for that information a few weeks ago.

Changbin is nice, and there’s nothing more to the story.

The chaotic quartett you call your friends however, doesn’t seem to buy it. They are loud and nosey and have eyes, so it was set in stone that they’d tease you about it sooner or later. It’s all fun and games, and you played along with it at first, because that’s how you guys are. But as time went on, when the banter became so repetitive and blown out of proportion to the point where they have made clowning you about your small interactions with Changbin the pinnacle of their entertainment, you’ve begun to be fed up by it.

“Will you finally stop bringing him up in an indecent manner every single lunch break? Or even better, stop bringing him up altogether?” You snap, which shocks everyone at the table because you never snap.

Nobody has time to react as you quickly stomp away to grab some fresh air. You mutter out every curse under the sun, not intending to let your anger take over you this much. You’ve only made it past the door when Felix catches up to you, placing a hand over your shoulder.

“(y/n), what’s the matter? Clearly, something’s bothering you. And I know it’s not because of just Seungmin.” Concern is woven in his smooth voice.

You have to admit, it was a smart and calculated move from your friends to send Felix your way. He’s always been the compassionate one out of your little friend group. Like a pillar, he’s the one who keeps you all grounded (and he’s the one to drive your asses back home after the wild Alpha Beta Gamma frat parties).

“I don’t like Changbin that way, I realized. So it’d be very much appreciated if you asses didn’t allude to that every time,” you huff.

Felix sends you an understanding smile. “We can work that out. You know that Hyunjin and Seungmin in particular can be insensitive and sometimes don’t realize they’ve taken things too far..”

“Fine, but that’s not the main thing that’s eating me up alive, Felix.” you sigh. The words seem to flow out of your mouth like a waterfall. “I’ve realized I’ve never really liked Changbin. Okay, fine, he was just a crush I had but I don’t like him.”

He nods slowly, his brain processing your ramble. “So you like someone else.”

“Yes. And I don’t know how to fix it because we got into a huge fight.”

“Talk to them. That’s the only thing left to do.” His response is immediate, and he says it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Every relationship has its ups and downs, and if you want to be committed, you have to fight for it. If you were made for one another, you’ll make it.”

The last part makes you laugh internally. If only he knew.

“Let me guess, you expect me to barge into his place to sort things out,” you say.

Felix gives you the look of judgment. “I mean, you could also show some human decency and text him in advance so he’s also prepared. But that works fine too.”

Come to think of it, you’ve never been to Jisung’s apartment. That’s about to change when you knock on his door sometime in the evening, shortly after sunset.

Jisung’s face immediately drops once he opens the door. “What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, drenched in regret.

It’s not that his appearance has reached rock bottom. He still takes good care of himself; however, you pick up the dark circles under his eyes and his complexion seems a little paler. Not sickeningly pale, but in a sense that he hasn’t seen the light of day for a few consecutive days.

You shift your weight on one leg and fiddle with your fingers. “Can we talk?”

Jisung gulps. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles after a moment of hesitation before inviting you in.

“I’ve thought a long time about this. Everything, really,” you start awkwardly as soon as you’re both standing stiffly in his living room. “I, um…”

You cringe inwardly as your voice trails off. Truth be told, you’ve rehearsed what you wanted to say many times a few hours ago. Even wrote down the entire speech. Then threw the draft away, only to compose a new one. And then again and again and again. After what felt like an eternity, you had polished your final speech and memorized it from top to bottom, even making sure that your flow sounded natural. But now that this is the real deal, your mind goes blank. Of course, of fucking course, your illiterate brain had to give up on you in the situation that mattered the most.

Jisung purses his lips. “Do you want something to drink first? No need to rush—”

“I don’t like Changbin!” you blurt out. Jisung stares at you in confusion. “I mean, I used to like Changbin — I still do, he’s a nice guy! Don’t get me wrong — but that’s all he is. He’s… nice. I like him, as a friendly guy. I had a crush on him, but now it’s just, uh, like. Platonic! Yeah, platonic.”

Despite him nodding slowly, you know that he is still lost. You would be too if you were on the receiving end of this painfully clumsy delivery.

You give yourself a mental slap as you take a deep breath. It can’t get any worse than this. Definitely impossible. You’ve already proven to him how bad your public speaking skills are. Might as well get over it with the bluntest words. “I miss you. And not because of the sexual things we did, but everything else. I miss you coming over, miss the movie night, and all that. I miss you, Jisung.”

He stares at you silently. Your eyes search his face for any sign of emotion, and for one too many times, Jisung is impossible to read. Okay, perhaps you did manage to tell him what you wanted to tell him even worse than whatever the fuck your initial attempt was.

But then his blank armor cracks. Little by little, his eyes soften, disbelief and remorse on display for you to see. Jisung is looking at you as if his world has fallen apart even more. He’s looking at you as if he’s clinging to the last threads of reason, trying to make sense of the situation. He’s looking at you with eyes that could hold stars behind them, stars that were supposed to burn out yet shine brighter than the universe.

“How can you say that? I hurt you. I made you cry! I was being a selfish asshole who put out his anger on you!” he exclaims, voice breaking towards the end. Pain clouds his red eyes, and he’s fighting to keep the tears at bay.

You slowly prod closer to him, testing the waters. He doesn’t react once, not even when you stand directly in front of him. Not even when you gently place your hands on a shoulder each. Not until you say, “It’s alright. I’m alright. No hard feelings.”

That’s his breaking point. Tears stream down his face, while quiet hiccups jump out of his throat. “How can you be so nice to me?” His sobs are muffled as he eases into your touch, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your waist, clinging onto you as if you’re his lifeline.

The answer is simple, you say to yourself, as you thread a hand in his hair. “We’re soulmates.”

The weight of the words hangs in the air, shattering the previous tension and all the worries in your heart. It’s liberating, finally being able to say it out loud without feeling like an abnormality for saying those words with happiness. You’re soulmates. You’re soulmates, and that’s okay.

Jisung’s sobs resound throughout the room, and so do his countless, tiny yeah, we are’s. You need a moment before you register the wetness on your face. It feels like an eternity standing in his warm embrace, even after there are no more tears left to cry.

“Can I kiss you?” Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but Jisung catches it. two fingers gently lift your chin so that you’re facing him. You almost melt when your eyes meet, his gaze filled with adoration that makes you want to burst at the seams.

“Yeah. I’d love that.” Jisung smiles.

It costs you your willpower to tear your eyes away from him before they flutter down to his lips. Despite his bottom lip being a little cracked, they look inviting and you wonder what they taste like. You expect him to nudge you, expect him to tell you to hurry up and do something because you’re pretty sure you’re staring at his lips for far too long.

He doesn’t. The grip on your chin is loose as if to tell you to take your time and go at your own pace. But the longer you wait, the more reluctance builds up. It’s a lot of power he’s given you; hell, it’s the first time he hands the reigns to you.

“Can you… uhm… I’ve never done this before, so yeah…” you look at him with a crooked smile.

The breathless chuckle that leaves him sounds like music to your ears. Jisung moves his hand to the back of your neck before closing the distance between you.

The kiss is short and sweet, but that alone suffices to make the butterflies in your stomach burst. The faint taste of coke lingers on him, and before you know it, you’re kissing again. Jisung’s lips are like an addiction, reeling you back in for another one. Somewhere along the way, the kisses change. Innocent presses of lips are long forgotten, replaced by teeth playfully tugging on your bottom lip, and Jisung kissing you deeper to the point where he steals all oxygen out of your lungs.

Your hands slide down his chest, tugging on his shirt. Startled by your bold actions, he pulls away, but you catch him back into another liplock that leaves the two of you breathless. All you can think of clearly is Jisung Jisung Jisung—

This time he forces himself away from you. Gasping for air, he places his forehead on yours. “If we go farther than this, then I don’t know if I can control myself.” His warning is barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t,” you whisper back.

That’s all the reassurance he needs before leading you to his bedroom, all the whilst latching onto your lips once more. He doesn’t let go of you until your back hits the soft mattress and he’s on top of you. Warm, slightly calloused hands trail from your cheeks to the hem of your shirt.

“Color?”

“Green,” you respond, smiling up at him. The sun has long vanished at the horizon, replaced by the dim moon and stars. Despite only a little light surging past the blinds into the room, you can see Jisung’s features crystal clear. The endearing smile is cast into the back of your mind, so is the delicacy in his touch, fingertips lightly grazing your skin as he sheds all your clothes off until you’re left in your underwear. After hearing your complaints, he discards his own clothes with an amused glint in his eyes.

Jisung takes his time pounding every single detail of your features into his memory. His hands roam all over your body, inciting goosebumps. You lean into his touch with a sigh and flit your gaze to him once he stops on a particular spot.

The look on his face is unreadable, but the hesitation in his voice speaks for itself.  “Does this bug you?” he asks, uncertainty laced in it as he runs his finger over each character of his name that’s inked under your collarbone. You shake your head with a hum that turns into a soft moan once he leaves kisses on the spots his finger burned before, one for each letter. Eventually, his actions spiral out to sucking lovebites and rutting his bulge against your heat, enticing louder whines out of you. Your vision morphs into blurriness as you move your hips in sync with his, locking your arms around his neck to pull him even closer to you.

“(y/n), baby…” Jisung heaves for air, “Is it okay if I…?.”

“Please,” you mewl, “want you inside me.” Your desperation must’ve shone through your tone, as Jisung presses a loving kiss on your forehead before he reaches over to the nightstand for a condom, grinning like a lovesick idiot.  

In books and movies, this is the part where the virgin would reach peak nervousness. Too many fears would be inhabiting their mind; the fear of pain, fear of not fulfilling their partner’s needs, fear of the entire situation, essentially. Whatever they depict in those books and movies, it doesn’t match up with the warmth and want pumping in your veins. Even after Jisung slipped your and his underwear off and slid the condom on his leaking cock, there’s no sign of fear bubbling in you. It’s rather the opposite; you nudge him to finally slide into you.

“So impatient,” he tuts playfully, and because he can’t help being a bit sadistic, he teases your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock. Tears begin to form in your eyes from the frustration of clenching around nothing. You feel like crying for good once he slowly pushes into you. The stretch feels unfamiliar and completely different than what you’re used to from his fingers, but it’s not unpleasant as you throw your head back. While you’re adjusting to his girth, Jisung observes your every expression, faltering whenever you scrunch your eyes shut. 

“You still there?” he asks in hushed tones, caressing your cheek.

In awe about his concern, you nod. “I’m fine. It’s just… new. I’ve never done this, but I guess you already figured that out.” It takes you a moment to catch your breath, and then you give him the green light to continue.

The way Jisung has your hands firmly against the bed lacks the usual roughness; he isn’t gripping your wrists as if he’s about to cut off your blood circulation. This time, he has intertwined his fingers with yours as if he doesn’t ever want to let go of you. A firework of colors and stars is all you see as he thrusts into slow and deep and with all the passion he has to offer. His lips don’t leave space for a breather either; he kisses you with so much fervor that it swallows your heart up whole. At that instant, you realize that he’s claimed your heart and isn’t going to give that up any time soon. You don’t mind, because you know that you’ve committed the same crime.

It’s not long after until you feel the orgasm building up. Jisung brings one hand down to flick your clit, and just like that, you unravel beneath him. His own release follows suit, a muffled groan coming from his lips as he spills into the condom.

It’s quiet for a moment, no words spoken between you except for harsh breathing. Eventually, Jisung slides his softening dick out of you and disappears for a moment to clean up, returning with a damp towel for you to freshen up a little, as well as a glass of water.

“I think I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” you say after you gulped down the drink in one go, voice devoid of emotion. A laugh leaves Jisung. The way you deliver it is so casual as if he didn’t just have his dick in you minutes before. “Also, isn’t this the part where we should cuddle?”

“So bossy, your royal majesty.” He even takes a bow before he climbs back on the bed, pulling the covers over your bodies, and scooting up to you. He says something else, but you don’t register what exactly. All you care about is being wrapped in his warm embrace. The stench of sweat isn’t prominent on him anymore. Instead, it’s a huge cloud of Axe overpowering your senses. You would complain, but you’re too blissed out to bother.

Jisung must’ve noticed at a certain point that you’ve wandered to daydream paradise. “You’ve been quiet for a while. A penny for your thoughts.”

“But you can read my mind.”

“I want you to say it out loud.” His answer comes like a shot while his hand is brushing through your hair. “That, and your thoughts are too jumbled and my head is going to malfunction if I try to decode everything running in your head right now.”

The corners of your lips quirk upwards. “I’m just thinking about how we did everything in the wrong order. It’s just now that we kissed, before that I only sucked you off or something. We’re so fucked up.”

“If you word it that way, we definitely didn’t follow the book.” Jisung laughs in agreement. The vibrations from his chest causes you to bubble up in warmth.

“I don’t mind, though. That’s not the point. I’m happy.” You don’t have to look up to know that his eyes lit up. “Jisung, I’m happy that you’re mine.”

The hold around your waist tightens, and you feel a soft kiss being pressed on top of your head. “And I’m happy that you’re mine.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you probably wouldn’t have to go through these struggles. Society would normalize having someone that completes you. You wouldn’t go through countless stages of denial, countless stages of frustration, and countless stages of doubt.

In another lifetime, another universe, you potentially could’ve been on even worse terms. Just like in those cyberpunk movies, maybe you two would be enemies, one fighting alongside the government, the other assisting the villain who tries to overthrow the system. Star-crossed lovers, that’s what you two would be dubbed as.

In another lifetime, another univer—

No need to fantasize about what could be. The only lifetime that matters is this lifetime, this universe, your reality. In reality, people like you live in hiding. In reality, society is doubtful towards people with soulmates. In reality, people like you are destined for a tragedy. It’s taken you a long time to wrap it around your head.

That’s alright though. You’re alright. You’ll always be alright. The universe might have not played in your favor in this lifetime, but you still found each other. Perhaps, the universe will be more forgiving towards you in your next lifetime. Or the one after. Who knows? Whatever happens, at least you know you have one person you’re bound to meet wherever you are, whenever you are. One person who won’t ever let go of you. One person you won’t ever let go of.

“Yeah, I’m yours.”