#In a I have gone months without brushing my teeth at my low points and I know it only makes anything I'm going through feel-

[anothermonikan]

Hate having to go and brush my teeth at 4AM when all I want to do is sleep for a few fucking hours before having to wake back up, but I know that if I don't, Things Will Get Worse.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

photographs

part two

masterlist

summary: when dean goes to hell, you realize you have almost no pictures of him. when he comes back, you take pictures every chance you get.

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of dean’s time in hell, implied sex/nudity, reader is picked up and carried by dean

author’s note: my longest one yet! :) also, there’s more use of “y/n” then i care to admit.

“dean?” you crawled toward his lifeless body, shaking with sobs as you got closer. “dean, baby, please!”

you sat up next to him and held his hand to your face, ignoring the blood that was now spread across your cheek. you let go of his hand to hold his face and kiss his forehead.

“dean,” you whispered, tears still streaming uncontrollably.

you woke up in a cold sweat. four months it had been since the worst night of your life. you sat up and looked at the picture on your nightstand. it was of you and dean; bobby had taken it about a month before dean had died. bobby had given you the picture along with seven others of dean (all taken when you knew him) when you moved in with him a couple days after dean’s death.

eight or so (fairly low quality) photos, that’s all you had of dean, besides a couple short voicemails and his outgoing message from his several cell phones. you never thought of taking pictures together, it’s like how no one has pictures of their closest friends. but now that he was gone, all you thought about was the moments you had no pictures to remember by. that time he surprised you with your favorite flowers after working separate cases and going a week without seeing each other. or when he made you breakfast in bed when your period cramps were worse than usual. or the little things; the way he smiled after kissing you, how his eyes lit up when you’d bring him a slice of pie, how he’d hum along to metallica while driving to a case with you in the passenger seat. or how he’d look waking up next to you each morning, so peaceful as he stirred and mumbled “good morning” to you with a smile; pulling you to him and kissing whichever part of you was closest, whether that was your cheek or hand he’d kiss you quickly and with such love there were times you’d forget about the monster you were hunting.

you got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of dean’s old def leppard shirts. it no longer smelled like him but it still reminded you of him, and it made you feel closer to him. as you brushed your teeth your phone buzzed and you picked it up, spitting out the toothpaste before answering.

“hello?”

“y/n?”

“who is this?” you asked. you recognized the voice, you’d recognize it anywhere, but you knew there was no way it was him.

“it’s me, sweetheart, it’s dean,” you could hear the strain in his voice. you wanted it to be him so badly, you missed him so much it was driving you insane.

“this is fucking cruel, you know,” you inhaled sharply, holding back tears. “who is this really? some low-level demon? shapeshifter?”

“no, y/n it’s me i- i’m back.”

“you know what, i-” you bit the inside of your cheek. you knew it wasn’t him, but it still sounded like him. “i know this isn’t really dean, and if you call sam or bobby they will kill you, but i- i miss dean too much to care at this point.”

“y/n it’s really me-”

“stop, just- stop. i know you’re a shifter or something, but you sound exactly like him and i miss his voice so fucking much, so please just talk as if we’re having a normal conversation.”

“oh- okay,” he sighed. “how’ve you been, y/n? you taking care of yourself?”

you let out a wry laugh. “when i’m not knee deep in booze, i’m summoning demons.”

“y/n! no, sweetheart, that’s- that’s not what i wanted for you! you were supposed to move on, go back to nursing school.”

“how did you know-” you started then chose to ignore it, wanting to hear dean’s voice. “i was never going back to school, dean, you had to have known that! and ‘moving on’ isn’t really my thing, i'm more into revenge.”

“yeah, you’ve always been stubborn i guess,” he let out a laugh, causing you to smile at the sound.

“well you-”

“y/n, you up?” bobby knocked on the door lightly.

“gimme a minute, don’t hang up, please,” you whispered into the phone then answered bobby; “yeah come on in!” you sat on your bed, slightly smiling at him.

“hey, how’re you doing?” he asked, you shrugged.

“fine, i guess, everything okay?”

“i just got a weird call, about five or so minutes ago, from some asshole pretending to be dean, so i just wanted to give you a heads up, they’re probably gonna call you too.”

“oh- okay- um- thanks bobby,” you nodded slightly. he furrowed his brows.

“that's it? i thought you’d be pissed some monster is using dean’s voice to prey on the-” his expression softened as he realized. “emotionally vulnerable.” he let out a sigh, “it called you already, huh?” you nodded.

“he’s still on the phone, but bobby- it sounds just like dean,” tears welled in your eyes and threatened to fall. “i miss dean so much, it- it physically hurts sometimes bobby. i can’t sleep, i can’t eat, i- i just really fuckin’ miss him.”

“i know, kid, i know.” he sat beside you, you let him take the phone from your hand and he ended the call. “dean was the love of your life, nothing hurts more than losing that.”

“does this feeling ever go away? this like nauseated, broken, deeply sick feeling?”

“not completely, at least it hasn’t for me yet. sometimes i still miss my wife like she died yesterday, but other days it’s not so bad. and those are the days we need to hang on to, because we need to remember that the people we loved, the ones we lost, they loved us too. dean would want you to be happy.”

**

you had just finished your shower when you heard someone pounding on the door. you quickly got dressed in some clean clothes and hurried toward the stairs, grabbing your gun on the way. you tried to see what had gotten into the house, and when you saw him, everything in you froze completely. it couldn’t be him, not really. should you shoot it? you made eye contact with bobby, who slightly shook his head, as if he knew what you were thinking.

“dean?” bobby asked, starting to believe what the man was saying.

“that’s what i’ve been trying to tell you!” dean let out a breath of relief. bobby pulled him in for a hug while you stared in awe. you couldn’t really hear anything they were saying to each other, well you could but you weren’t listening. it’s as if you were suddenly on autopilot. you tucked your gun away and slowly walked down the stairs, surprisingly not making any sound.

“where’s y/n? has she been staying with sam? she’s not alone, right?” dean asked, bobby nodded slightly in your direction. you were now at the bottom of the stairs and two or so feet away from dean. he turned around. your heart leapt out of your chest and you let out a cry, covering your mouth.

“d-dean?” you exclaimed, placing a hand on his cheek. he closed his eyes and leaned into the simple touch. you gasped quietly, still not believing any of it, and half expecting to wake up at any moment.

“y/n,” he whispered, opening his eyes and looking into yours. “it’s- it’s really me, i swear.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your torso. he picked you up slightly so you wouldn’t have to be on your absolute tiptoes and he didn’t have to be hunched over. you giggled at the familiar feeling of being in his arms.

“dean,” you all but squealed as your grip on him tightened. you pulled back and kissed him, unable to stop the smile that was across your face. he kissed you back, also smiling widely. “holy shit, dean!” you pulled away and looked into his eyes. “dean, you- you’re-” you buried your face back in his shoulder and began sobbing, your whole body shaking. he let you stand up and he took a look at your now tear stained face.

“don’t cry, sweetheart,” he whispered, but that only made the tears fall quicker. you laughed a little and he smiled.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled, snuggling into his chest and letting the tears soak his dirty t-shirt. he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you as close as physically possible.

“it’s okay,” he mumbled back, resting his head on yours. “i love you.”

“i love you so much.”

the moment was somewhat ruined by bobby splashing dean’s face with holy water.

“i’m not a demon, bobby,” dean sighed.

“had to be sure,” the older man shrugged and offered dean a kitchen towel to dry his face off.

**

“a camera?” dean laughed a little. he’d been back for about a week and you hadn’t left his side. the two of you were at target buying a few essentials.

“yeah, i recently realized i don’t have a lot of pictures of you, so,” you replied, quieting near the end of the sentence. his teasing smirk turned into a soft, understanding smile.

“well, better get a couple extra memory cards too, who knows how long we’ll have to go between uploading the pictures onto a computer.”

“okay,” you giggled, standing on your tippy toes and giving him a peck on his lower cheek. “love you!”

you hurried and grabbed a couple memory cards. a camcorder caught your eye and you smiled to yourself. you’d want videos of dean too, if something was to happen to him again. you also picked up a large, simple photo album on your way to meet dean at the checkout

**

“mkay, zoom in,” you tested out the camcorder in the mirror, not actually recording anything. “zoom out.”

“what’re you doing?” dean laughed, you turned the camcorder to him and pressed record. he was leaning on the door frame and raised his eyebrows with amusement.

“say your name for the camera,” you giggle.

“c’mon, seriously?”

“humor me?” you pouted, he rolled his eyes. “i’ll make it worth your while,” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively.

“my name is dean winchester, and this,” he put his hands on your shoulders and turned you back to the mirror. “is my beautiful girlfriend, y/n!” he wrapped his arms around your belly and buried his face in the crook of your neck. “i love you, y/n,” he kissed your neck repeatedly, causing you to giggle.

“i love you, dean,” you said between giggles.

**

“i’m literally brushing my teeth, this isn’t a particularly great memory,” dean laughed before spitting out the toothpaste. you had the camera in your hands and took a couple pictures of him; a cheeky smile now on his face as he got closer and engulfed you in a hug.

“but you look so cute doing everyday things,” you smiled up at him.

**

it took dean a couple days, but once he started taking pictures too, he never put the camera down (unless it was a life or death situation, obviously). it became a normal thing to have the camera out, even sam and bobby got into the mood - they let their pictures be taken and they even took pictures themselves. sam loved the camcorder and usually used that, while bobby preferred to use the camera.

dean showed up with a polaroid camera one night, which confused you.

“we already have the other two, you really think we need a polaroid?” you laughed lightly, still happy he was so enthusiastic about taking pictures.

“well, everyone uses the other two - i don’t want sam seeing your boobs,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“my boobs?” you practically spat out your coffee.

“yeah! what? if something happens to you, i don’t want to forget the girls!” he somehow managed to keep a straight face, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “what!”

“you’re adorable, that’s all,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a loving kiss. “so you spent approximately seventy-five-dollars on a polaroid just to take pictures of my boobs?” you mumbled against his lips. he hummed in approval; it seemed to make complete sense to him so you agreed, “mkay, seems reasonable.”

“of course it’s reasonable,” he smiled, kissing you. “wanna test it out?”

“oh definitely,” you smiled too, jumping up so he could carry you over the the motel bed.

**

“photo album one, complete!” you giggled, happy with your work as you handed it over to dean. “i put the date on the back of each one, and there’s room if we want to write about the picture, too. i already did that for some of them.”

“this is beautiful, sweetheart,” he smiled and flipped through the pages.

“i figured we could keep it in our room at bobby’s,” you suggested.

“okay,” he wasn’t really listening, he was fully focused on the collection of pictures from the past month or so. you all looked so happy, as if these pictures weren’t taken between slaying demons and monsters, or setting fires to corpses. (and now talking with angels, which still sounded crazy).

“you’ll like this one more,” you tossed him a miniature photo album that was meant to hold polaroids, it was filled with every picture taken with the newest camera. he looked through it quickly, smirking to himself almost every picture, then went back to looking at the main album. “i couldn’t find the one we took the first night, though, we didn’t leave it at the motel, did we?”

he didn’t say anything, just handed you his wallet; mesmerized by the photos of you, him, bobby, and sam. you smiled to yourself when you opened his wallet. god i love this man.

part two :)

[devox2564]

In Your Heart: Chapter 11

Jake Kizka x fem reader

Thanks for being patient with me guys! Work has been insanely busy but I’m so ready to get back to this story! -E

Warnings: Minors DNI 18+ only, consumption of alcohol, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving)

You lean up against the bar, decidedly drunk. The music booms around you, invigorating you as the liquor courses through your veins. The bartender slides another drink to you without a word and you tip your head at him in a sluggish gesture of thanks.

"I think you may have had enough darling." Jake drawls, drunk himself, and curls a hand around your waist.

"I think, you should mind your own goddamn business Jacob." You shoot back, grinning wickedly at him.

He snatches the glass from your hand and downs the amber liquid in one long gulp before slamming it down on the bar. "Let's get out of here baby."

"Who says I'm going anywhere with you?" You retort, being difficult on purpose.

"I've already told the others that we're leaving, and the girls are already gone anyway." He says casually.

"What do you mean the girls are already gone?" And you turn to glance back at the dance floor, seeing no signs of any of your friends.

"Tabby made a friend about twenty minutes after we arrived. Danny left with Anika about-" he checks a watch that is definitely not on his wrist and continues, "an hour ago, and Liz is back at Josh's presumably drinking herself to death with my brothers."

You scowl at him and stumble off of your stool. You can feel him roll his eyes and begin to follow you. You make a point to exaggerate the swing in your hips.

.....

The small of your back presses against the cool granite of your kitchen countertop. Jake's hands are tangled in your hair and his lips are on yours. He'd spent the majority of the Uber ride running his fingertips along the soft skin of your inner thighs. Torturous man. Now, as he lifts you onto the counter of the island, your skirt rises dangerously high and exposes a dark pair of lace panties. Purchased especially for him. His eyes darken a bit as they light on them. He runs his fingertips along the low neckline of your top thoughtfully.

"How much does this shirt mean to you?" He slurs a bit on the word shirt.

"Not much, why?" You giggle.

Without reply, he grasps the cool fabric with both hands and you hear buttons clatter to the tile. Your breasts exposed, covered only in slips of black lace, rise and fall as your breath hitches.

"All for me?" He asks playfully as his lips meet yours again.

His kisses travel from your lips, to your jawline, and down in a winding trail between your breasts and onto your stomach. His normally steady hands are drunken against the blistering heat of your skin. He clings to you as if he'll never touch you again. His mouth brushes against your thigh and you let out a soft groan into the quiet air of the kitchen.

"Shall I have you right here in the kitchen dahhling?" He croons in that drawling accent.

"No Oliver in bed Jacob." You gasp just as his fingers brush across the delicate lace covering you.

"We're not in bed baby." He says looking up at you and draws his hand away.

"God just come here." You almost whine. Impatient for him in your drunkenness.

"So now I'm god?" His glazed eyes twinkle with repressed laughter as he comes face to face with you again.

You reply by pulling him into a crushing kiss, effectively shutting him up. The two of you meld together in a frenzy often teeth and tongue. Even since that first night, every intimate moment with him has held in it a need that demands to be met. Each glance, each sentence, every touch is as desperate as the first. You didn't know if you'd ever really been in love before Jake. And of course you hadn't told him that you were in love with him. It had only been a few months and you weren't in the business of scaring men away. Especially one this good in bed. But when the two of you fell together like this, you knew he felt the same way. Words or no. And tonight was no different.

You hear his belt buckle unclasping in one skilled hand. As you shift a bit to remove your panties, his hands firmly hold you to the counter.

He pushes them aside with a hooked finger and you feel him press against you. The slip that your wetness affords is enough to draw a whimper from your lips. He doesn't torture you long though, entering you in one swift motion. The warmth in your body is almost instant, and the steady pace that he sets combined with the inhibition of drink ensures that your first climax is not far.

He pauses for a moment and pushes you gently down so that your back presses against the cool countertop. He retreats from you and quickly slips the panties down your legs, tossing them to the side. Jake spreads your legs and lowers himself down. Waves of pleasure roll through your body as his tongue swirls and circles your clit. His fingers enter you, curling up to find your sweet spot and caressing it. You cry out into the night as you writhe beneath his incredibly talented mouth. You want to hold back. You want to draw out this pleasure for as long as possible.

"Don't hold out on me." He says as his thumb replaces his tongue while his fingers continue to pump in and out of you.

"Jake.." your voice is so breathy that it's almost nonexistent.

His free hand travels to your lower stomach where he pushes your arched back down. You won't be able to hold back. The feeling growing inside you is too much. So much that you almost want it to stop. "You can't fight it baby just trust me." He croons softly.

His pace quickens and the pleasure building in your stomach explodes. Your orgasm rips through you, dripping down his hand and onto the countertop. The sensation is wholly new and unlike any feeling you've ever had before. The seconds draw out into hours as your body is wracked and your cries echo into every corner of the room. Jake does not wait for you to recover before rising to enter you again.

His thrusts are fast and desperate. The liquor running through his veins stripping him of any sense of restraint. Before you can even feel your first climax subsiding you are rolling towards your second. Your hands grip the edge of the counter above you as you lay spread before him. His hands clutch your hips so tightly that you expect to see the evidence of them branded on your skin later. Each thrust echoes the sound of skin on skin into the air. His thumb presses against your clit firmly and circles there in time with the rhythm of your bodies. Overly sensitive and swollen, this sensation pulls a strangled cry from your lips as the feeling pools again in your stomach.

You can see his orgasm approaching in the way that his brow furrows together. "Together baby. Please." He clips as his pace quickens.

Your only reply is another cry as he pushes you over the edge. At the same time you feel his release and hear his quiet moans. Jake's body stiffens and slows as he fills you up, eyes fixed on the connection between your two bodies. Your body finally relaxes as he retreats from you and you slump flat onto the counter. Your breath is still coming quickly in short ragged draws.

Jake kisses your stomach and gestures for you to take his hand. He pulls you up to sit and holds in a drunken giggle.

"What?" You ask with a laugh.

"We've got a mess to clean up." He says gesturing to the floor. The evidence of your first orgasm.

"That's all you babe. I'm going to take a shower." You smile wryly at him, hopping down and sauntering away.

He wraps his arms around you before you can get too far. His face nuzzles into your neck and he plants a soft kiss onto your shoulder. The two of you stay like this for a moment in the middle of the kitchen.

"Mmm, my girl." He says softly, swaying you from side to side.

You caress his hands, feeling the rough callouses beneath your own fingertips. You do love him. And you want to tell him. But now's not the right time. That doesn't stop the feeling from swelling in your chest and pulling tears into the corners of your eyes. You remember that night, the last time you two were this drunk together. You never would have guessed that you'd be here with him now. Just as drunk but much, much happier.

....

You wake suddenly in the middle of the night out of a dead sleep. Jake's arm is slung across your stomach and his breath is slow and steady in your ear. Slinking out from under him, you make your way to the bathroom not bothering to turn on the light. As soon as you reach the doorway you feel you stomach lurch uncomfortably. Vomit is rising up your throat and you barely make it to the toilet before emptying your stomach contents into the bowl. The cold tile presses against your knees. Vomiting up alcohol never loses its edge. It's not your first time and it won't be your last.

Finishing up, you rinse your mouth and get a few swallows of water before deciding that you're ready to go back to bed. The short distance in the dark back to your bed is normally done in a haze of sleep and relief. But tonight while you're a little more wakeful, you're a bit uneasy. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you make your way through open space. A room that normally feels so familiar is strange and foreign. You shake it off as you reach the edge of the bed and slip back beneath the covers.

Back in the safety of the bed, Jake's arms wrap around you. The sleepiness stolen by your stomach is returning now. The split second of unease has passed and you find yourself feeling silly. A grown woman, afraid of the dark? Sleep comes easy, and the feel of Jake's skin against yours distracts you from the feeling that someone in the dark might be watching.

Taglist: @freyjalw @edgingthedarkness @gvfmarge @sinarainbows

[tothedarkdarkseas]

Hi anon! Since I can’t add a read more to the ask itself I’m just copying your text below, and I’ll respond to it at the bottom!

Anonymous asked:

Hi. Your WIP inspired me.

2.

The second time, it was on accident. He wakes up to a pounding under his skull, body not feeling much better, and a foggy memory of last night's events.

Shockingly, that isn't new. Not even a surprise.

The bed he's in (he's actually in a bed, that's one point) is soft at least, (unlike his bed at home, another point) which serves as a blatant reminder that he's not where hes supposed to be.

He opens one, now two eyes, and looks over at the body next to him.

Blonde hair that looks white in the sun covers her face. Whoever she is. He doesn't care.

Despite the protests of his spine, he sits up, and looks around. It's clean, cleaner than he's used to. The girl couldn't be that bad, as he takes notice of the pictures on the walls. Older people, presumably family. There's a desk in the corner, notebooks stacked neatly, a calendar showing the current month. She really had her stuff together. That's new. Poser, he thinks, offhandedly.

Murdoc doesn't think about why he already believes that anyone who would sleep with him must have something wrong with them, at the age of 24.

He gets out of bed slowly. He would deny actually caring about disturbing the girl's sleep. It's more that he doesn't want to see her face, see the disappointment of a man she brought into her room. He didn't want to see her eyes become dark. He didn't want to see his reflection in them.

His clothes were easy enough to find. They stuck out, the one mess in the room. Would his smell stay after he was gone? Would she wake up, scrunch her nose, and clean up after him before brushing her own teeth?

Nowadays, he doesn't wear pants. It's punk, he says, but that's a shit excuse. The reality is that when you're starving or aching from withdrawals, "new pants" doesn't really take priority on the shopping list. But now, the thought of the chafing denim on the walk home makes Murdoc's brows crease.

It's a new low.

He begins to slip on the first pair of knickers he finds. Laying on her vanity, he presumes they were tossed off from last night. They're ugly. Purple, with a pink lace around the waist and each leg hole.

He sees.

He can't stop himself from looking at his reflection.

The way they lay on his hips, how his thighs spill over the pink edge on each side. The bulge is a disgusting reminder that this is wrong. Yet pathetically, soft, it's contained in the small fabric. This is wrong. But as he turns around, A look over his shoulder and-

Fuuuuck. Shit. Shitshitshitshit. Fuck.

He slips on his jeans. His jacket. Boots. He's a whore, his thinks, when he remembers he left his house without a shirt.

He walks home with a red face.

The knickers stay on, for the rest of that day.

Thank you for sending me your take, I’m really flattered that this inspired you at all and holy cow, I’m very impressed with how quickly you whipped that up! I swear, there’s a cog missing in my brain that makes speedy writing feel like an impossibility, haha. You just banged it right out!

You and I are very much on the same page here! This probably won’t surprise you given our conversations on this blog, but you nailed the prediction (whether you meant to or not!) One of the five scenes I outlined was indeed Murdoc stealing knickers from a girl he’d shagged; given it’s canon that he steals purses and whatever else he fancies including clothing, I think this is just such a natural assumption to make. In the WIP, he’s begun wearing knickers on stage, making a spectacle of it, doing it for jeers and heckles and the punkish attitude that, in Murdoc’s case, bridges into antisocial behaviour. He doesn’t have to have the conversation with himself if he’s instead having the conflict with everyone else. The part where he feels something quieter than that, though, the part where he’s not yet given himself permission to wear them elsewhere-- that’s the next thing to contend with. By the time he’s snatching the knickers in a scene like this, there’s no audience to call him names nor an element of in-band fighting over their image, there’s no spite he can justify it with, and so there’s no reason to do it but the private desire to. And I think in your version you captured the very same feeling, making something he’d framed to himself as a statement into a secret. I love the concept of making the things you do alone so much scarier than the things you do under a spotlight. That feels very Murdoc to me.

[firstbeachgoblin]

Hey! I hope you’re well, can i request an imagine where reader is Embry’s imprint and they haven’t seen eachother in months because reader has a life she can’t just drop for him but she comes back when the pack is blowing up her phone ? Thank youu and don’t worry if you don’t write it, it’s fine!

Thank you for the request! It took a Long time But It's now complete with a total whopping 5k words!! Any way I hope you enjoy the fic.

I put it under the cut because it's so long but it's my brain baby at the moment lo.

Returning to you.

Embry Call x Reader

5058 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Most of my life has been spent in the Forks area so getting to travel to Europe for six months to see the art and culture was a dream come true. The past four months I’ve been travelling through Europe, starting in Greece and ending my trip in the Irish countryside.

The old art and architecture filled me with a joy that I could not get anywhere else in the world. The smells, sounds and sights all played their own part into the experience. I got to see the moon rise over Mount Olympus, the David by Michelangelo in the Vatican, tour through the Louvre, drink wine on the beaches of France and so much more. I’ve been living my best life.

It's been a dream to see the world, I've met so many new people and tried so much food. I’ve enjoyed every minute of my trip, but there was a part of me that longed for the beaches of La Push.

That part is Embry. Embry Call. My boyfriend, my pal, my love and my light. To me Embry is my everything and to him I’m his everything. That is one thing that has been made perfectly clear the past four months I’ve been away. Every day he’s told me he misses me and I know he means it, I’ve been told not just by him but also the rest of the pack.

Everyday I’ve woken up to ‘Good morning I miss you.” Sometimes he phones to tell me that he feels like he might die if I’m away for any longer. I always chuckle and tell him he will survive, it’s not like I’m going away forever; but that's what he feels like it is. This usually earns me a long winded whine from the other end of the line.

My phone buzzed against the smooth surface of the bedside table while Embry’s face flashed across my screen signalling that he’s calling. A smile graces my lips as I pick up the phone to be greeted with his loving voice.

“Hi (y/n)!! I miss you so much.” sadness was laced in his usual cheery greeting, it hurt my heart to be away from him but I would never trade this experience for anything. I’ve been planning this for years and I wasn’t going to pass up cheap plane tickets.

He filled me in on the pack's shenanigans, complaining about how they keep teasing him for being glued to his phone awaiting any updates I would send him. The later it got the heavier my eyelids seemed to feel, my speech started to slur with exhaustion of time zones while Embry continued to become more energetic with each passing minute.

“Em. . .” A yawn interrupted me mid sentence, a low whine emanated from the phone as he knew I would want to get to bed to have the energy for the long trip I’ll embark on tomorrow for Ireland, which is my last stop. I’d be spending the remaining two months of my trip in the lush countryside.

“I think I should get to sleep, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” I mumbled into the phone.

“But (y/n)!” he dragged out. I knew he wanted to talk longer but I physically cannot do it. Even though Embry and I don’t live together officially yet, we’d talk into the early morning till one of us fell asleep.

“But (y/n) what?” I dragged out the ‘a’ matching his whine.

“I miss you and want you to come home.” I could hear him pause over line before he continued.

“Besides, sleeping isn’t the same without you.”

I ran my hand through my hair gently tugging on the roots easing the tension that’s built up over my trip. As much fun as I’ve had, he does have a point. Sleeping just isn’t the same without Em. My nights have been spent restless in beds that aren’t mine without the comforting touch of my boyfriend; but that doesn’t mean I can just drop everything and go back home.

“Em you know I can’t just pack everything and go home. . .” I looked at the painting that hung over the tv that sat opposite of my bed. A puppy-like whimper fell from his lips when he spoke again, his voice cracked like he was going to cry. It broke my heart hearing him upset.

“I-I know I just really miss you.”

“I know Embry I miss you too, but it’s only two more months then I’ll be home.”

We chatted for ten more minutes before I fell asleep on the phone. As much as I missed falling asleep in his warm embrace I can’t just fly back home, not yet at least.

The blaring of my alarm woke me from my slumber. The clock face read 6:02 a.m. taking everything within myself to peel back the blankets that encased me in their warm grip. I patted through the bed sheets to find my phone only to knock it onto the floor in the process.

My lock screen adorned a photo of Embry with icing smudged across his face from his birthday party but a swamp of text messages from the pack covered my favourite photo of him. Five texts from Leah, seven from Jake, nine texts from Paul, 12 texts and two missed calls from Sam and a whole group chat titled ‘(y/n) come home.’

The group chat kept pinging with the members of the pack who were still awake discussing the logistics of flying out to Ireland to take me back home. Was Embry really causing that much strife in the pack for them to create a group chat? Knowing him, it couldn’t be too far from the truth.

Leah and I call once a week to check in and make sure the other is doing okay since I left. It’s one of my favourite parts of the week being able to have a one on one with someone sensible. Every week she fills me in on Embry begrudgingly, she does it because she knows it makes me happy which I appreciate.

Reading through her texts she didn’t say much in regards to Em’s behaviour the only message relating to him was “come get your man child please, he’s getting snot on the floor.”

I listened through Sam’s voice mails which were begging me to come home, he informed me that once Em knew I was asleep he started moping around Emily’s house again for the fourth consecutive night in a row. This was news to me.

The texts entailed that Embry was becoming a pain on patrol and that Paul ‘couldn’t take another minute of the incessant whining.’ I told them the same thing I told Embry; I’m not dropping everything and rushing back home to sooth the wails of a love sick boy. There isn’t much I can do from across the ocean anyway.

I stretched my body and headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower before I had to leave for the airport.

I packed the few remaining things I left out to prepare for the flight and headed my way to the lobby to check out. I enjoyed travelling but I wasn’t going to miss sleeping in hotels and hostels.

Two weeks have passed since I touched down in Ireland and to say I’ve been having the time of my life is an understatement; I’ve been having a ball living my best life.

The land was capped in a luscious emerald green sea of grass that waved in the wind, the roads were lined with hand built stone walls that marked the division of farmers fields.

Sheep and cattle grazed in pastures, and old castles dotted the countryside. It was gorgeous. It was a view that I wanted to see again, a view I want to see with Embry.

It felt like time was flying by between sight seeing, trail hiking, museum tours and calls with Embry and Leah. It has already been a month. I had one more month before I was to jet set back to the U.S. and see my Embry.

One more month before I was back in La Push surrounded by the scent of sea water and trees with the looming threat of rain constantly overhead except in the summer. For two months of the year La Push was bright and sunny with the expected summer storms that happened.

I had fallen asleep on the phone with Embry again when I realized my phone was lost in the sea of sheets as it buzzed with an incoming phone call.

I couldn’t find it until the call had gone to voicemail and my phone landed on the ground when I gave up and ripped the blankets off of the bed but whoever called must have felt it was really important. Picking up my phone the most unflattering photo of Jacob was plastered on the screen, his name in white.

“Hello?” I asked groggily into the phone, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I looked over at the clock which said in bold red numbers 1 am.

“Hey (y/n)! You sound like you just woke up.” I heard him chortle from the other end.

“That’s because I just woke up Jake, it’s one in the morning.” a yawn escaped my lips, I know I’ll have a rough time getting over jet lag when I go home.

He occupied twenty minutes with idle chatter and borderline interrogation about all the sights I’ve seen before I asked him why he was calling me so early in the morning

“Embry has spent the week at my house, you need to come home there’s nothing we can do anymore to occupy him till you return.” He sighed, Jake knows I want to finish my trip but we made a deal that I would come home early if there were absolutely no options left to keep Embry from sending the pack into hysterics.

I knew he was buttering me up for something.

“Are you sure you can’t figure something out? It’s just another month!”

“Another month of him eating my cereal and getting dirt on me from my dad!”

I snorted with laughter at the fact that Billy was telling Embry every embarrassing detail from his childhood.

“Jake please just let me think about it okay?” I sighed, flopping back into my hollowed cave of blankets and sheets.

“Okay, I’ll let you think about it but don’t think I won’t be telling Sam.” he warned.

We laughed together and he wished me a good night before hanging up the phone, before I slipped back into slumber I sent Jake one more text.

‘You wake me up at one in the morning again and it’s over for you.’ in which he responded with ‘Oh no I’m so scared lol.’

I reached over to the bedside table and plugged my phone in before the sweet embrace of warmth and slumber took over my senses.

The next three days I was bombarded with texts from Paul whining about the wolf mind link and how every patrol shift he had with Embry was spent tuning out his constant thoughts of me.

Standing in the shower with hot water running over my skin soothing my tense muscles I heard my phone buzz against the granite countertop. I rolled my eyes and continued to bask in the endless hotel hot water.

As bad as staying in hotels could be, the hot water made up for the early breakfast and sheets that were tucked in a little too tightly.

I had shampoo in my hair when my phone started buzzing again, this time with a call. I grumbled under the stream of water washing away the soap before it could get in my eyes; whoever's calling can wait.

I moved on to conditioning my hair, letting it sit while I wash the rest of my body with a lightly scented lavender soap.

I refused to use the complimentary soap because it dried out my skin and the lotion just left me feeling sticky instead of moisturized.

Watching the soap run down the drain my phone rang again, I clenched my fists, who could possibly be calling me now? I still refused to get out of my steamy heaven to answer my phone.

My gut told me that whoever was calling wouldn’t let up until I answered. I washed out the conditioner from my hair and wrapped it in a towel.

The mirror was coated in a layer of steam, the tiles were cool against my feet. I wrapped the plush towel around my body, mopping up the droplets of water that remained.

My phone started vibrating with rapid fire text messages from the pack’s group chat they made a month ago. I sighed, picking it up to sift through the messages. I read a message from Jared telling me he’d pay me to return.

The pack always made me laugh, together they’re a walking sitcom. There is never a dull moment with them, someone always had something witty or sarcastic to say.

I checked to see who had called me and it turned out it was Sam, I listened to his voice mails and immediately phoned him back.

As soon as I hit the call button it only rang for half a second before he picked up.

“Thank you for calling back, I thought I’d have to call two more times.” he chuckled.

“Well I was in the middle of a shower, can’t really take a call there.” I moved through the room with my phone pressed between my shoulder and cheek. Stopping at my suitcase to pick out what I was going to wear for the day.

“I’m going to be frank with you, I need you to come home. . .” I let out a huff before he continued.

“Embry needs you badly, he’s just a pile of mush on the floor now. It’s a chore to get him up to go on patrol. Please?”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do Sam, I’ll try to book a flight for the earliest date I can find.” I knew I was giving in but from what they were telling me and the constant texts were getting to be difficult to manage.

“Thank you, when you get back I’ll buy you take out for a month okay?”

“I hate that you know what my weakness is.” I laughed through the phone, a month of free take out? Hell yeah. It made the prospect of going back a little brighter since I wasn’t going to complete the rest of my trip.

I wasn’t losing out on too much though, I had seen and done everything that I wanted. It wouldn’t be too bad to go home early.

We talked for a couple more minutes before parting ways, I threw my phone on the bed and watched it bounce a couple times before turning my attention back to getting dressed. Since I had a flight to book it was okay to spend the rest of the day lounging in pj’s.

The soft fabric of my pj’s brushed against my skin as I jumped into bed with my computer in hand, and now it was time to book a flight back home. Maybe text Paul and tell him he can quit complaining as well.

I woke up the next morning with my flight booked for take off in the afternoon and my daily good morning text from Embry. I felt a little sad to be leaving such a beautiful country but the trees, ocean and Embry all called my name.

Pacing through the room I grabbed the comfiest set of clothes I packed for my return flight back to Seattle, I had enough time to sleep on the plane to be conscious enough for the three and a half hour drive back to La Push.

I was set for a long day ahead of me but it was going to be worth it in the end, seeing the bright and happy face of my boyfriend, getting to hug him and kiss him again.

I made one last check of the room before I gathered my clothes and toiletry kit and made my way into the bathroom to shower before my long flight. As I was stepping into the shower my phone pinged from the counter with a text from Sam.

“Have you booked that flight yet?” it read.

“Yeah I’m due for take off at 1. I should be back in La Push some time tomorrow!”

My fingers brushed the cool surface of the counter top as I put my phone back and got into the shower, hot water immediately running down my back; this time my phone wasn’t being blown up by a desperate wolf pack trying to get my attention.

I can’t sit in the shower for hours on end this time, I have a flight to catch and a boy to surprise. Embry was currently still under the impression that I would be coming home in two weeks. Boy would he be in for a surprise.

The residual steam wafted out of the bathroom while I brushed my teeth revealing my towel wrapped body and hair in the mirror behind the skin. I checked the time and noted that I had two hours to check out, make my way to the airport, and check into my flight back home. Two more hours before I could smell the trees and ocean, two more hours before I could see my friends and hug Embry.

The time managed to move by in a blur by the time I was shutting the trunk of the yellow cab that was going to drop me off at the airport. I got into the back seat and the driver peeled away from the hotel front onto the winding roads.

“Aye where are you headin’?” The driver inquired in a thick Irish accent.

One thing I noticed in my stay here was that the accent changed in every town or village I passed through. It added to the charm

“Well, I’m on my way home after spending six months in Europe.” My eyes scanned over the green hills that rushed past in a blur.

“My favourite places I’ve been have definitely been Ireland and Greece.” I smiled towards him.

The lines around his eyes crinkled with the smile that graced his face at the mention of Ireland.

“Well that’s good to hear innit? Glad you’ve enjoyed your stay. We welcome ya with open arms if you return.”

We held a light conversation until we arrived in front of the drop off area for passengers, thanked him and grabbed my bags before heading into the crowded lobby.

The front of the terminal was metal and glass that reached towards the heavens with automatic doors gaping open like a mouth. Inside was a dull white with light grey floor which my shoes clicked against with each step.

It was packed with people like a can of sardines, I weaved my way through the masses towards the check in desk which thankfully only had a short line to get through.

Under the mix of fluorescents and natural light the desk lady’s bags that donned under her eyes glared with visible exhaustion from the mass amounts of people that swarmed the terminal.

Despite her clear drowsiness she still greeted me with a warm smile and a soft hello.

I grabbed my ticket and thanked her then turned and pushed myself through to the security check, dropped my luggage off and took a seat to wait for the boarding call for my flight.

As I waited grey clouds started to fill the sky blocking out the little sun that was once shining in its place.

My eyes grew heavier by each minute that passed, waiting could be hard, but waiting in an airport where there’s no sense of time is worse. So I distracted myself by people watching.

A lady was bouncing her baby, the old man across from me was snoring. A businessman paced back and forth speaking urgently into his phone, a family chatted excitedly for their family trip to the Canary Islands.

I pulled my eyes away from them as the call for my flight rang out over the crowded terminal, grabbing my suitcase and making my way towards the gate.

Excitement filled my every step as the anticipation grew and bubbled inside me. I gave the greeting flight attendant a small smile and made my way to my seat, for being last minute I managed to get a window seat.

We sat on the tarmac for twenty minutes before taking off and before I knew it the seat belt light pinged off and I was fast asleep jet setting my way back to America, back to my home.

I couldn’t tell what time it was when I woke up but the clock on the tv screen said 2 a.m. and that we’re due to arrive in an hour. I sat up in my seat and gazed out the window into the starry night sky.

Energy started to course through me as I watched the arrival time tick closer and closer. A light rain misted down over Seattle as I left the Seatac terminal and made my way through the maze of cars in the night that was made darker by the rain.

I spotted my blue Subaru and popped the trunk so my interior and seats wouldn’t get wet. It had been a long six months since I last sat in my driver's seat, the wheel almost felt foreign in my hands as I turned the key and listened to the engine roar to life.

I drove through the winding roads of the city to the Seattle-Bainbridge Ferry to take the 45 minute ride into Bainbridge and headed North to get on the 101 then turn onto 110 which would take me back into the heart of La Push.

The closer I got to Forks the brighter the sky became; well as bright as it could be on a gloomy day. The clouds became painted in the glow of purple and pink as the sun rose over the horizon, the rain had let up and left me with an overcast sky for the remainder of the drive back.

Since I slept virtually the entire flight back I didn’t feel the weight of exhaustion at all, but surely when I arrived back in the arms of Embry I knew I’d hit the wall with sleep deprivation.

As I barreled through the corridor of trees I passed the signature ‘welcome to Forks’ sign and turned right onto the 110, twenty minutes to home. I was so close but my soul felt like it was light years away.

The clock on my radio told me that it was currently 6:45, the pinks and purples that coated the sky faded away to the typical grey that fills my senses with delight. Sea salt and washed up kelp started to seep into the air that circulated into my car making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Closer to Beach Drive I got the stronger the smell of the ocean became. The turn signal clicked as I turned onto the road that gave way to Sam and Emily’s house so they could take me over to Embry’s in the off chance that he happened to be awake at this hour.

It’s highly unlikely that he would be up at this hour but it’s not something I could be one hundred percent positive about. I stepped out of my car and turned around to see Emily running as fast as she possibly could towards me with open arms and a huge smile plastered across her face.

Dropping my bags I dashed across their lawn into her embrace.

“Oh (y/n)! I missed you so much, you must be so tired.” She released me from her hug and settled her hands on my shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I missed you too Emily, I knew I’d be tired but not this tired.” I chuckled while wiping at my under eyes in a feeble attempt to wipe away the exhaustion.

She put her hand on my lower back and led me inside for the awaiting cup of tea while Sam moved my bags into his truck.

The warmth of their home embraced me, the comfort of their kitchen was familiar. The only thing missing was the rowdy group of boys that made up the pack who usually occupied every available seat in the home.

I took a seat at the kitchen table where three cups of tea sat waiting, I should have expected a q and a when I returned. Wrapping my hands around the mug the warmth that radiated from it filled my hands.

Emily took a seat beside me and Sam entered through the door and sat adjacent to both of us.

“So how was the trip?” We sat around their table chatting until our cups were empty and filed out of the house into the early morning air.

“Emily and I will drive your car back to your place after I drop you off at Embry’s, the kid’s been sleeping in my living room more often than I’d appreciate.” Sam’s eyes crinkled with a smile, I knew he was joking but at the same time there was truth to his words; and honestly I couldn’t blame him.

“Thank you for putting up with him while I was gone, I owe you guys one and you owe me take out for a month.” He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair turning into the Call's driveway. Embry’s mom had already left for work leaving him to his own devices; which meant he would sleep in as late as his heart desired.

We got out of Sam’s truck and he dropped my bags on the doorstep. I turned and gave him a quick hug and a thank you before sticking my key into the lock.

The door creaked open and I dragged my suitcases to a stop in their front entry way and shut it behind me.

My shoes landed on the floor with a soft thud and I gingerly walked up the stairs to ensure I wasn’t too noisy while making sure to avoid the one squeaky stair.

I got to the top of the stairs and hung a left down their light beige hallway that gave way to the oak door that guarded Embry’s room. His soft snores filtered through the door, it’s door knob was cool in my hand. Making an audible click with the turn of my wrist.

Dark mahogany brown hair peaked up from beneath the sheet that tucked Embry’s body out of view. One pillow was on the floor while the other was tucked firmly between his cheek and arm, I smiled at the sight of my sleeping boyfriend which filled my every inch with the utmost joy.

My sock covered feet pressed into the carpeted flooring with each step I took towards his bed making sure to step over the piles of dirty clothes that were scattered around the room.

The sun filtered through the gaps in the window blinds casting pools of golden light on the floor and along his walls causing the crystal prism that hung above his closet to sweep dashes of colour across his walls.

I pulled back the grey top sheet to reveal his peaceful face and I swear my heart was going to burst with the amount of love that I feel for him. His hair was tousled in every direction and a cow lick stuck straight up on the left side of his head.

My hands ran over his hair, smoothing it out while I whispered his name. Embry groaned a bit and rolled over, I whispered his name a little bit louder and moved my hands from his hair to his shoulders running them along his arms finally waking him from his slumber.

“Hi Em!” I gushed out as his brown eyes opened and focused on me. His face split with his toothy smile and his arms shot around me, pulling me down into his chest.

“Do you know how much I missed you?” Embry mumbled into my hair.

“I figured a lot with the amount of texts I got from the pack.” I reached up brushing the hair from his face.

“You can never leave me for that long again. . .I didn’t know what to do without you here.” He ran his hands through my hair placing a gentle kiss upon the top of my head.

“I was so worried about you. I couldn’t protect you and make sure you were safe.”

“Well next time I’ll make sure you can come, then you don’t have to worry.” Craning my neck up I placed a kiss upon his lips which were still a bit swollen from slumber.

“The important thing is that I returned safe and in one piece. The other important thing is I get to spoil you with the gifts I brought back!”

His laugh filled the room sending vibrations through my body.

“Hey! That’s my job to spoil you, not the other way around.” He ruffled my hair causing us both to laugh. I peeled off my socks and wiggled my way under his blanket.

“I think it’s time we catch up on six months worth of cuddling.” I poked a finger into his side.

“Yeah I think that’s a good idea, you owe me for being gone so long.”

“What? I came back early!” His hands made their way under my shirt to rest on the bare skin of my back sending waves of heat through my body from being pressed into him. Oh how I missed my heater.

“Yeah, by like what? Two weeks?” his silky voice chuckled out.

“I missed you Embry.” I told him, placing a kiss on his exposed shoulder.

“I missed you too. Now let's go back to sleep, you look tired.” He said to me as he rested his chin atop my head and pulling me closer.

[lomlwintersoldier]

Break Me Down

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual tension, mentions of smut, swearing, slight angst in the beginning (SMUT TO COME) 

A/N: I wrote and rewrote this one a couple of times- I’m not entirely sure I’m happy with it but there will be more to come! I’m thinking 1-2 more (very smutty) parts. Enjoy :)

“Serena, please, where is this coming from?” Bucky yells, hands splayed as the brunette rushes from room to room, gathering her items and shoving them haphazardly into a duffel. 

“You’re so fucking blind, Bucky,” she shoots back, venom dripping off her words. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” she hisses as she snags a flannel blanket off the couch. 

“Hey, wait, that’s my favorite bla--” Bucky starts but she whirls on him, rage apparent in her eyes, and he cuts himself off. “Okay, I guess...take it....,” he mutters. 

She shoves her way past him, having gathered all her things (and some of his) and stops before the front door, hand firmly grasping the knob as she turns to him, practically shaking.

“You’re in love with Y/N,” she spits, lip quivering.

“What?” He exclaims, reeling back. “No I’m n—“

“Cut the bullshit, Bucky. You don’t need to admit it to me, but at least admit it to yourself.”

“Have a nice life.” She yanks open the door and heads down the steps of his brownstone, practically leaping into the Uber she’d called for herself. Bucky still stands in his doorway, dumbfoundedly watching as the car’s tail lights disappear around the corner.

In love with Y/N? No fucking way in hell. You barely talked to or interacted with each other, only went on one or two missions together and you….you were always bringing home some other guy. There was no way he had feelings for you. Or vice versa.

Serena is long gone at this point so Bucky slowly steps back into his apartment, closing the door quietly.

In love with Y/N. He shakes his head. Serena could not be more wrong.

The next few weeks, Bucky is hyper-aware of your presence, Serena’s words echoing in his mind every time you’re in the room. He catches himself staring at you more often than would be deemed appropriate or necessary and has to force himself to look away and focus on something else, someone else. Anything else. 

In the gym, during meetings with the rest of the team, hell, even during the stupid bonding activities Tony came up with every week, you’d be in his eyeline. He’d catch you in a laugh, head falling back, eyes closing as the delicious sound escaped your lips, and he’d resist the urge to laugh with you. Or sometimes he’d glance at you from across the room as you spoke to Natasha or Steve, at the way words he couldn’t hear fell from your lips, and the way you played with your hair when you were bored, or how you cocked your head to the left when you were deep in thought. 

Then other times, his eyes would graze down the skin of your shoulders, bare in the tank tops you preferred to wear, to the toned muscle of your arms as they flexed and pulsed with the punches you landed so effectively on your target. His gaze would drift further downwards, sweeping over your collarbones, your hips, waist….

Then he’d force himself to look away. 

The thought begins to plague him. Did he always stare at you this often? Did he simply notice you more now that Serena had pointed out some “feelings” she thought she’d picked up?

Or maybe it was that he was always staring at you, he just hadn’t been as keenly aware of it as he was now.

Either way, he wasn’t sure what to do. Granted, his relationship with Serena wasn’t exactly compatible and it was short lived, but it was his first fling with a woman since he’d been....back. He wasn’t entirely sure what to call his “return to the normal world” but she’d approached him while on a night out with Steve and Sam a few months back, strutting over in her heels and little black dress and offered her number to him. She was pretty, surely not as pretty as you but….

Shit, he thinks to himself. Maybe there’s a grain of truth to what she said. 

~

The gym is empty as you stride inside, heading directly to the treadmill that rests in the back corner in the room. There are others closer to the door but you’ve always found comfort in solitude, in the dark, so you naturally gravitate to the most hidden corner of the room. You hop on it, setting the pace and timing of your run and then you’re off, music in your ear as you begin to run faster and faster. 

When you’re finished with the treadmill, you decide to run through some training exercises, practicing on a sand punching bag, but it’s always lacking. The best opponent is human and sparring should be as is real life, but with most of the team out running missions, you make do with the training bag. You punch and you kick, hitting as hard as you know how but grow frustrated with the lack of returned blows. 

You huff in annoyance as you slam the punching bag one last time, throwing it off it’s chain and across the room, just as the Winter Soldier walks past the door. 

“Y/N?” He questions as he steps into the training hall, feet quiet as a mouse. “You alright?” You take a deep breath and wipe the sweat from your brow, tearing your gaze from the fallen bag to the large figure before you. “Yeah, no, I’m good. I’m good.” “You sure?” He asks as he steps towards you. “You seem frustrated.” Forcing a laugh, you shake your head and head over to your gym bag. “I’m good, just annoyed at this punching bag for crapping out on me.” 

You nod towards the cylinder shape on the floor. His gaze follows yours before looking back at you, an unidentifiable expression on his face. 

“Do you need help training?”

You cock your head, pondering his request, before shaking your head. “No, I’m fine. I’ll just find Nat or Steve when they get back.” 

“Well, I mean....” He sets his bag down. “I’m here now.” “I’ll help you spar?” He says it like a question, unsure of how you’d react to his proposition, but a small smile crosses your face. “Okay,” you mumble. “Thanks.”

Bucky approaches you, a swagger to his step that matches the smirk on his face. His sweatpants ride low on his waist and his t-shirt is impossibly tight, but it shows off the deliciously sinewy muscles beneath the fabric, pulsing and flexing under the thin cloth. You swallow and tear your eyes away, certain that looking for any second longer would further ignite the fire you’re feeling in the pit of your stomach. You try to make yourself look busy by leaning down to tie your running shoes, although the strings are perfectly tied without any reason to check the laces.

“Are you ready?” Bucky asks, breaking you from your thoughts. Your gaze flashes up to him and you nod, tying your hair back. 

“Let’s do this,” you mutter as you crouch into a defensive position, arms at your face as he advances on you. His hulking figure is surprisingly agile and quick, as he lands his first blow, but you quickly throw your arm up, catching his arm and twisting it behind his back. Not to be outdone, he grabs your waist and throws you on your back, but you easily spring back on your feet, narrowly avoiding a well aimed kick to the abdomen. 

He hops back, surveying you and this time, you go on the offensive, trying to land as many blows as possible in rapid succession. He parries and blocks almost all but you land a few good punches on his cheek and stomach. A hiss escapes his lips from the pain, but he suddenly grabs your hand, mid punch, and forces you down with your neck while holding your arm, twisting it behind your back with a threat to dislocate your shoulder. 

“Submit,” he whispers in your ear. Bucky pushes your arm a little further and you groan in pain. Forcing your mind and body to swim through the pain, you swiftly tear your arm from his grasp and swing your legs up, giving him a solid kick to the ribs before throwing your other leg around his neck. You move so quickly he’s taken off guard and you slam him to the ground, practically laying on top of him.

His deep blue eyes glint as you make out the situation: your chest is pressed so tightly against his that you can feel his heartbeat hammering away and you realize your leg is pinned underneath his thick thigh so even if you wanted to move, you can’t. Both of you are breathing hard. A sly smile crosses your face and you lean down to his ear, lips just centimeters away from his cheek. 

“Never,” you whisper, letting your hair graze him as you lean back to look at him. 

His hands come up to your waist slowly as a playful smile hints at his lips. Faster than you can respond, he rolls the both of you in one swift movement so that he’s now on top of you, his body pressed between your legs and you swear you can feel a hardness from him. 

“Are you sure about that, sweetheart?” He murmurs. He has you fully pinned underneath him. Your breath mingles with his, heat pooling into your stomach, and even further down. 

As if he can sense what this is doing to you, he lightly rolls his hips against you, pelvis to pelvis. A surprised moan escapes your lips when he brushes against your sensitive clit, instinctively squeezing your thighs together, but they’re stopped by the muscly slab of a man between them. 

Bucky chuckles. His eyes seem to be practically staring straight through you as he leans down.

Oh god, he’s gonna kiss me, you think as he closes the distance. 

Suddenly you feel harsh stubble on your neck, nuzzling against your skin and then soft lips, planting tantalizingly gentle kisses. You feel the urge to moan again but just as you’re about to open your mouth, you feel teeth on the sensitive skin of your neck, a harsh bite before he pulls away.

“Bucky!” You gasp, gripping his biceps. Laughter erupts from his muscular form as he pushes off you, sitting back on his heels; your legs remain on either side of him. 

“What the hell was that?!” You exclaim as you push away from him, rising to your feet. 

“What, you didn’t like it?” He steps towards you until his chest is practically touching yours. With every breath, your breasts graze his shirt, both of you staring into the others eyes. His are heated, desire darkening them so wholeheartedly that you find yourself unable to break the tension between the two of you.

“I...I didn’t say that.” You whisper, trying to quell the warmth between your thighs. He holds your gaze for a moment longer, glancing down at your lips as if he’s daring himself to kiss you.

Then he pushes away from you, that damn smirk on his face as he abruptly breaks the moment off.

“Good.” 

He scoops up his discarded gym bag and starts out of the training room. “See you around, Y/N,” he calls out as he rounds the corner, disappearing down the hallway. 

A frustrated huff falls from your lips as you realize what just happened. You just had the most heated, intense moment you’ve had in a long time and he just...cut it off. 

That bastard. 

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Part 2

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[jangofctts]

Mirrored Heart (captain rex x fem!reader)

rated: 18+ explicit 

word count: 5.6k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering, blow jobs, clone space racism?  

a/n: ANYWAY HERE IT IS. ive had this draft saved since like a year ago and just now finished it. anyway kwjrkejh here YALL GO. also thank you @jango-fettish​ FOR LETTING ME BORROW SYRENA 

It's curious. 

Well, you, as a whole are curious—completely outside the realm of what Rex considers normal. As far as senators go, that is. 

You're grumpy for one—worse than Skywalker and far more snide than Kenobi—a near gargantuan task bordering impossible. Wit and cleverness come to you easier than breathing, but it's your unwavering kindness towards himself and his brothers that sticks out like a blaster burn against alabaster white walls.  

He passed it off as a joke—some sort of mockery. Rex’s existence has been full of them. The past year it’s been made glaringly clear as to what the clones are to the people of the republic—tools. Mindless war machines dressed with flesh and bone, heart and sinew instead of durasteel and a circuitboard. Humanity has been skimmed over with excuses and debates over the hollow argument that clones were created for the sole purpose of war—nothing more. Ignorance is bliss when you are not the one fighting tooth and nail for petty skirmishes and the survival of your family.        

Ithyea, your home monarchal planet, is a newer member of the Galatic Republic—one of the firsts to advocate for clone rights—cutting through each argument with the steel headed javelin of hope and determination. Controversial in the eyes of the galaxy but no less than true. Yet with controversy, comes chaos. 

Wedged between Takodana and the Cerean Reach hyperspace lane—it’s an essential key to accessing more neutral space sectors without stepping on any toes. While the planet does mirror the size of a larger than average moon, there’s nothing but grandeur with the cutting edge advances in space travel and military innovations. An arts district too, one that’s presented multiple times for the Senate apparently. Rex has yet to see it. It’s an easy guess as to why Ithyea has gone under pointed attacks from the Separatists—it’d be foolish not to try.     

And of course comes the intergalactic mess of politics. You are not Ithyea’s first senator. Or second…or third. Just in the last six months, three of your predecessors have been picked off—two disappearances and a suspicious poisoning sandwiched between them. Which sides these assassinations stem from is anybody’s guess—a mix of both perhaps—all to silence and stamp the voice of your people out.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear those abhorrent senatorial robes, and Maker did it take some convincing for another Ithyean to step to the chopping block. It’s just…no one thought  it’d be you. The infamous captain of King Arrian Felian’s elite guard—trained in combat levels high enough to contend some of those within the ranks of the Jedi Order. When your name comes up in conversation, it certainly doesn’t scream diplomacy.     

Rex is not surprised that you hold the current record of Ithyean senators for surviving the longest. Evading an astonishing two attempts on your life by the skin of your teeth. You were just downright lucky the third assassin missed their mark. Sure, the blade of Syrena Aster skimmed the right side of your cheek and left behind a nasty scar to remember her by, but kriff—even with your background and low levels of public presence, you’re a high priced target. Whoever placed an order with the Heretics, really wants to see you six feet under.     

Rex hasn’t been given the full report on exactly who the Heretics are—a rag tag bunch of untrained Force users and skilled assassins from what he’s gathered—but regardless, this attack is just the beginning. Until the Senate and the Jedi are able to retract the price on your head, you’re stuck under protective custody. Usually ushered away into the Jedi Temple or tagging along with General Kenobi and Skywalker. Despondently, no matter the circumstances of your protection, it can’t shield you from the dreadful invitations to senatorial luncheons.

 And yes, you tried to slip by for this one. 

You don't brush elbows with other senator’s like many of the members in the Jedi Order and your own cohort do. In fact, you actively avoid even speaking to them unless necessary, let alone stand in the same room with seven of them. Odd for an elected official of diplomacy such as yourself to be so cold shouldered—Rex would think senators wanted to mingle.    

It's curious because you're standing in plain sight and yet no one pays you any passing thought. General Kenobi and Skywalker hold the majority of their attentions, shoulders already taught with exasperation at keeping everyone from tearing out each other's throats for, kriffing five minutes. Yet you...you are completely at ease, leaning up against a stone pillar, observing the unfolding chaos from afar with a keen eye. 

Before Rex realizes he's stepping towards your position, you glance over and dip your chin in greeting. The ghost of a smirk pulls at your normally grim facade—his heart skips. "Captain."

"Senator," he mimics, posting himself to your right. There’s still a thin, healing scab from the assassin’s blade that extends from the swell of your cheek to your ear. Ouch. “Enjoying the evening?" 

You snort. "Hardly enjoying it, Rex."

Stars—you shouldn't be allowed to say his name. Your words are razor-sharp like a jagged vibroblade, meant to jab and pierce through armor—tear a person to pieces without having to lift a finger. Everything about you is rough, gritty, brutal, unbecoming of what a senator should be, but— 

You mouth his name, purring out the singular syllable with such tenderness that it's like a punch to the gut. 

It's hard to swallow and he needs to clear his throat—an embarrassing act on his part, but your attention has already returned back towards the meandering senators. "How d'you mean?"

"Well," you sigh, "let's just say smalltalk isn’t my strong suit." 

"Aren't you senators s'pposed to like diplomacy n' such?" 

Your thumb smoothes over your bottom lip in thought as you shrug. "Diplomacy? Sure. Politicians? Can’t say I like them. I just—"

You wave your hand around, gesturing vaguely to the crowd. "I just don't understand why they can't say what they mean. Telling someone to have a nice day shouldn't entail certain death, y'know?"

"Speaking from experience?" He teases, gently prying into that harder than beskar wall you've created for yourself. There's fissions in your foundation and he means to tear it down all for just a mere scrap of information. 

Your eyes flick over, your lips curling into a vulpine grin. “Perhaps...Though, it was partially my fault, I have to admit.” 

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Senator.” 

You nod. “Yes, one day—when there aren’t so many political ears jumping at the chance of gossip.” 

A swell of laughter interrupts your chat, your attention gravitating to Obi-Wan—ever the charmer with the crowds. The end of your mouth pulls into a frown as you sigh and carefully scratch at your brow with the back of your thumb. Rex might be pulling at straws, but what he mistook as you being standoffish may just be your nerves. Socially awkward and flustered when speaking in such an intimate setting. 

Rex’s first instinct is to reach out and place a hand over your shoulder in comfort, but he’s not sure how you’ll respond to the touch. Flip him over your shoulder probably—

Instead he forces himself to jumpstart the conversation—something to distract from your anxieties. “I hope you don’t mind me asking—“ His heart beat kicks up into a flurry of wild beats as you turn you head. “What uh..wh—did you want to become a senator?”

He likes it when you smile—like you’re letting him on some sort of coy secret. You shift your weight and shrug. “The king asked me personally. I’m flattered he thinks I’m clever enough—insulted he sends me to these abysmal gatherings like some sort of show pony.”

Rex chuckles. “Yeah, can’t say I like ‘em either.” 

“Although…” Your thumb runs over your lip again, a sparkle of mischief igniting behind your eyes. “As a senator, I do get the occasional tidbit of gossip. Here, I’ll catch you up—“

The captain startles when you snatch his elbow and yank him closer. Maker he’s glad for his helmet because your lips brush against his earpiece as he leans down to reach your height. 

“Look." You whisper, nodding casually in the direction of a particularly young senator with a shock of white hair. She's swathed in a pool of royal blue silk, much too large for her tiny frame, and all but hanging off Skywalker's arm with glittered nails filed into points. "That is Senator Ceci Paare of Corellia. She looks innocent, no?"

She does. Wide, crystalline green eyes stare up at the Jedi Knight as a pretty giggle escapes past her ruby painted lips. Skywalker grimaces. 

"I quite like her," you continue with a sly grin. "Even if she does try to influence public opinion by an invitation to bed." 

There's no time to process as you focus in on an older man. His hazy blue skin, ash white lips and vermillion green eyes cut an almost nightmarish profile, accentuated by mountains of black robes. Rex can’t recall what planet the senator represents. The senator holds his head stiffer than rebar to keep the ornate golden circlet from slipping off, his white lips curling in distaste as Orn Free Taa of Ryloth places a meaty hand over his slender shoulder. 

"He is Lord Tal’en Sol Ra'ah. Cunning, but sympathetic to the pleasures of gambling."

It's a game to you—of perceptions and nuances only a trained eye can roll over. Rex expects nothing less. This sort of thing has been hammered into the very essence of your being since you were little—reading an enemy before they can strike. It works on politicians marvelously well. 

Truth be told Rex should be paying more attention—but the closeness of your face to his helmet is maddening. His heart twists and coils as your bare hand skims along his gloved one—kriff. He’s not gonna make it before he bursts into a thousand little pieces.  

Rex’s spell of lovesick yearning recedes as you swear under your breath. It was only a matter of time before someone approached your little corner.  

"Oh, Maker save me," you hiss under your breath as a young Mirialan saunters over, the swatches of rich red and brilliant gold accentuate his violet skin like a bloody bruise. "Pretend you're speaking with me." 

"I am speaking with you," Rex snorts. 

Your hand waves in dismissal as your brows stitch together, hands balling into fists. Your jaw clenches as the senator in question puts on a dazzling smile. You look downright panicked. Rex has witnessed you face down numerous senators older than dirt and close to blowing away in the wind with plucky fervor, assassination attempts, being held captive, and you're frightened…by this? 

This is too good. 

Rex has half a mind to help you, wheel you away from your little predicament, but his intrigue with seeing your oh-so-solid resolve crumble is much too valuable and entertaining to pass up. He's going to remember this for years.  

"Rex."

"Senator," he mimics, not at all frightened by your poisonous glare. "Some diplomacy might do you good."

You begin to snarl out a threat but are decidedly cut off by your object of horror planting himself before your hiding spot. You cower into the corner like a boxed in loth-cat. "Ah, my favorite Ithyean! I had begun to worry you would not make it, my dear friend."

"Senator Lin," you sigh. The smile you offer is tight and thin; a nervous one much in the same way one would be if presented with a box of toenails for a birthday gift. “How pleasant to see you."

Senator Lin’s deep violet lips part with an easy smile. He waves a hand in dismissal, his silver rings glinting in the warm lighting. "Please—call me Toluka. No need to bother with such formalities between companions." 

Rex suddenly understands your trepidation with the Mirialan—he’s slimy. And, not to mention, not at all ashamed with the lecherous looks as his eyes sweep down your body. Rex clenches his teeth and folds his arms behind his back. He’s regretting not heeding your warning now…  

Try as you might through brutal small talk and chilly answers, Senator Lin refuses to take the hint. A dark plume of venom green lashes through Rex’s chest as the Mirialan places a friendly hand over your shoulder. You grimace as Rex bristles and glares through the visor of his helmet.  

Senator Lin’s lips pull into a gaudy smile as he glances at Rex and then at you.“My dear, don’t you know? It’s not worth wasting your time with a clone. After all, they’re all the same person. How boorish—come join us at the table.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek as your temper, like the silver of blade through the darkness, cuts through your steely irises. With poised nonchalance, you lift your hand and pinch Senator’s Lin’s fingers between your own and pry them off your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Your campaign, valuable as it may be,” Lin continues, “is a useless endeavor. They are not our equals and never will be--you must know that." 

Rex forces himself to remain calm—collected and certainly not imaging a thousand and one ways he’d like to see his fist breaking the fragile bones of the senator’s face.  

"Fine buttons stitched upon your shoulders do not compel your worth, Senator,” the harshness of your words is a blow straight to Lin’s ego. His well-groomed brows furrow drastically as his tongue struggles to play catch up and find words to repair his shattered pride. 

There’s no chance for Senator Lin to regain his footing as your snatch Rex’s wrist and sweep him out into the hall. Rex can feel your anger roll off of you in waves, frighting and holding the same caliber of roaring waves thundering against black, craggy rocks. It’s a miracle the night didn’t end with your hands wrapped around the senator’s throat or a blaster shot through the chest. 

When you reach the lower halls of the cruise ship is when you release Rex’s wrist. You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and release a long, dramatic sigh.   

"You are worth far more than that pompous ass," you say with enough edge to slice through a droideka's shields. "He has no right to say those things to you." 

“It’s alright,” Rex soothes, placing a hand over your bristling shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.” 

Your features scrunch up into a wince. “That...that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through more of it, Rex.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and loosen the heavy outer robes strung around your shoulders. You shrug out of them and fold the thick swaths of fabric over you arm—revealing the under layers of your uniform. You toss the bundle of fabric to the floor with a disgusted grimace and sit on the cargo crate closest to your left. 

“Really—it’s ok.” Rex assures again. “I—“

You hold up a hand and shake your head. His mouth snaps shut. “I won’t hear it. To me you are nothing short of perfect and I refuse to argue about it. Maker knows I already do that for a kriffing living.”

There’s a fragile lull in the hollow space—the distant chatter of voices and strange music collecting in the corners. You stand once again, toe to toe with the Captain and there it is again, that elated pitter patter of his heart thrumming through his veins. The nerves of being so close to you—you sweet face and not being able to touch you.  

“Let me see your face.”

His hands come up to the edges of his helmet without hesitation, a hiss of hair escaping the seal once he pries it off. You smile and take a step closer until the only thing separating you and him is his helmet. 

Rex’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into your hand you gingerly place over his jaw. “I wish the entire galaxy could see you through my eyes,” you whisper, the warmth of your soft palm radiating out and warming his entire body.  

It’s a matchstick to kerosene—his helmet clatters to the ground and there’s only a second to spare as both hands move to cup his cheeks, dragging him into a mouthwatering kiss. 

He hasn’t kissed many people—save for those rare times at 79’s, head swimming under the haze of one too many shots of Corellian fire whiskeys where he could barely distinguish his ass from his hand. Those drunken make-outs were nothing like this. 

No—this…this is what a kiss should be like.   

He dreams about you all the time—so constantly ravenous that all he can feel some days is pure ache. Every and all words that spin around his head starts with you and finishes with his pounding heart close to bursting free from his ribcage. Not in the same way a flood rips through an unsuspecting village—more like the brilliance of a thousand doves, marble white plumage thrashing free from their gilded cage. Your lips taste like the core of a newborn star—scorching and yet still so sweet upon the tongue the same way caramelized sugar sticks to the roof your mouth. You are his first and last everything. 

There’s a certain kind of tragedy hidden beneath your tongue, fragile promises and the eggshell thin shards of hope stapled to the roof of your mouth. Rex will take it—seize any threadbare strand and run with it—spool it into the palm of his hand until you’re wound so tightly together it’ll be impossible to untangle.     

Just when the dizziness sets in from elation and not enough air, you part and leave a sticky trail of warm kisses up his jaw. Rex groans and hugs you closer, you humid breath blooming across his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

The words on his tongue crumble to ash once he nods in agreement. Your kisses dip lower, not even stopping when the reach the edge of his chest plate. Stars, you’re…he never entertained the idea that your lips could look so divine in contrast to the battered plastoid. When you fold onto your knees his heart leaps to his mouth, a flare of arousal flashing through his groin. 

You rest your chin over his codpiece and smile. “Do you like seeing me on my knees, sir?”

Rex huffs and studies at the opposing wall—

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your fingers find the claps over his codpiece. “Can I take this off?”

Rex jerks his head in a yes but grabs your wrist. Not a rough hold—a tentative one as hesitation swirls in his eyes. “Don’t—don’t have t’ do this for me—“

You quirk a brow. “I want to because I like you, Rexy.”

A rosy blush blooms over his sharp cheekbones. The captain nods again.

The codpiece clatters to the ground and immediately you move your hand to palm him through his blacks. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut. There we go.      

Biting your lip, you pull down his blacks as far as the plastoid plating allows, greeted with the hard length of his cock, beautiful and flushed a rosy brown. Fuck—he’s thicker than you thought. You wrap your fingers around the base, delighted by Rex’s airy gasp as he throbs in your palm. A bead of liquid shines at the tip and just the sight of it makes your mouth water. 

Moons—you should’ve done this sooner.

With a stuttering inhale, Rex trails his forefinger along your cheek and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingertips skim lower and lightly pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your eyes lift to meet his. “You—you sure?”

You answer with a kiss over the dip of his navel, the skin searing hot under your lips. Rex curses and rolls his head back onto his shoulders when your palm slides up the length of his cock and then back down. Your grip is firm and tight as Rex slumps onto the crate, goosebumps rushing up his exposed flesh. Stars, when’s the last time he’s gotten release like this? 

You lean forward and lick a languid line from the velvety skin of his balls all the way up to the tip. Rex’s hips jolt. You purse your lips and suckle at the head, dipping your tongue over the slit then down to trace the ridge of his frenulum all the while your hand rolls up and down his shaft. Rex tangles his fingers into your hair with a hiss. You open your jaw a bit wider and take him down a few inches into the wet heat of your mouth, feeling your lips stretch around his cock. You you drag the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft to make the thickness easier to swallow down, but he's still only halfway into your mouth when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck—" Rex moans as his hips strain to remain still. “S’good—such a good girl.”

You glance up, eyes devouring the attractive length of his clean shaven throat and the underside of his chin. Rex swallows and let’s out another little sound. You whine softly in return and slip a hand into your pants, pressing your fingertips against your throbbing clit as you start to carefully bob your head up and down. Yeah—your jaw already aches just from holding his cock in in your mouth but fuck it—it’s worth it.   

Rex's chest heaves with exertion as he mindfully rocks his hips up, pushing and rolling his cock deeper into your mouth until his shaft is nearly seated all the way in. Ditching your own pleasure entirely, you swallow around him, forcing down the urge to gag and simply hold him here. Allowing him a moment to just enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth before launching into the main event.  

Rex murmurs your name and strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re beautiful—so pretty like—like this..ah—” 

You pointedly hollow your cheeks and suck, his flattery warming your chest with pride. You swallow around him another time, squeeze his shaft, your fist following your mouth as you lift up then back down to the base. You grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you pull halfway up and let Rex rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans of your name. 

Soon enough he’s twitching in your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tips back onto his shoulders. The gloved hand sweetly cradling your cheek slips to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers into you hair to anchor himself. He’s close—quiet gasps and broken curses tumbling out, hips unconsciously rocking into your mouth in search of release.

Rex whimpers your name, his leg jolting as you work your jaw wider and swallow him down, the dark curls tickling your nose once it brushes his groin. “Oh, fuck.” 

You hum around him, delighting in the mumbled praises. Almost there…That’s it. 

He’s dangling on the precipice—on tiny shove away from euphoria—

“Wait—“ Saliva dribbles down your chin when his cock pops out from your swollen lips, throbbing from the unintentional tease. “Maker—shit.” 

If not for the gloves covering his hands, you’re sure they’d be turning white from how tightly he grips the edge of the crate. His eyes are squeezed shut, slightly bent forward as he falls away from the edge of his release. Rex sucks in a steadying breath, amber eyes meeting your confused ones. 

“I don’t—can we—“ Rex’s eyes flit and focus on anything but you as he stutters and works up the courage to ask for what he wants. “Do we have time—“

You rolls your eyes and rest your cheek on his thigh. Silly man. “You wanna fuck me, Rexy?”

“Kriff, yes.”

You smile and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t think they’ll miss us."

Rex doesn’t complain when you take his hands and yank him onto the grubby floor and over your senatorial robes. He props his back against the crate as you shuck off everything below the waste and clamber into his lap. His hands, warm even through the leather, land over the swell of your hips and wrench you closer until your front presses up against his chest plate. 

The rough prickle of his stubble is, in all sense of the word, addictive. He tilts his head to kiss you, the slick touch of his tongue on your bottom lip adding jet fuel to the fire low in your belly. Rex groans and cups your jaw, holding your mouth open to dance his tongue along the length of yours. You whine and shudder as he purses his lips and lightly sucks on your tongue before you both part. 

Rex drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you both pant for precious air. His dark lashes sweep up his cheeks when he looks at you. This close you bare witness to the dazzling color of his eyes—crystalized pearls of amber over the crackled bark of pine tree in the midmorning sun. Muted gold threaded through the brown like fine lace and the slow shimmer of the sun dappled through water. To think such a man like him is dredged through the bloodied mud of war is despicable.

You blink away the swell of tears prickling at your eyes and kiss him once more. Sighing, you whisper down, mouthing soft nibbles and teasing kisses over his jaw and down his neck. Rex squirms and rock his hips up, your cunt clenching around nothing. You need him.   

“Rex,” you groan. You slide your hand between your bodies and grab at his thick length. Rex gasps into your mouth, long fingers clamping onto your waist in a death grip. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.” 

Your nibble at his earlobe as you grind your hips against his length, the folds of your cunt teasingly out of reach. “Touch me, Captain.” 

Rex tears off his vambraces and gloves, hand wedging between your thighs, touching the very tips of his fingers to your throbbing clit. You whine and clench your jaw—the pleasure is raw—sizzling electricity that crackles with the deadly promises of your pleasure. It’s as if you’ve had the breath knocked out of your lungs the second he bears down a bit more on your clit, drawing tentative circles, each completion sending a shockwave of tightly spooled ecstasy through each and every nerve. You nearly sob as his fingers slip away. 

“So wet already,” Rex moans as you tip your head back when two of his fingers begin circle your dripping cunt. They’re thick and long and perfect. Your hips stutter as your cunt easily accepts his fingers, the heel of his palm slotting perfectly against your pussy to stimulate your clit. 

Maker you’re seeing stars as Rex rocks his hand into you—the bend of his fingers the perfect angle to catch all the right places that make you tremble. He kisses your cheek and moans your name into your ear, all low and gravelly— 

Your body seizes up tight as you soar, plummeting off the edge only to tumble so fast and so hard that tears prick the corner of your eyes. Rex peppers kisses over your cheeks and runs his free hand through your hair, purring praise and adoration as you shudder—your mouth parted in a silent cry as you cum and dissolve into his hands. 

When you suck in a steadying breath and open your eyes, Rex is gazing upon you with starstruck eyes—pure adoration that makes your cheeks flare hotter than the surface of two mini suns. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like this…

However, you’re impatient and running on stolen seconds. As much as you’d like to just simply stare at him—there’s not enough time. Rex wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and slides the tip of himself through your soaking folds. Each stroke against your still throbbing clit makes you buckle into yourself, but the angle that your knees are propped over his hips means you're stuck here. 

Rex pauses and cups your cheek. His thumb scrapes over your cheekbone. “You want this?”

You place your hand over his and turn your head to mouth a kiss over the lines of his palm. Oh, fuck yeah. Kind of him to ask as if hadn’t just cum over his fingers but—no. “I need you to fuck me, Rex. That’s an order.”

Rex huffs out a low chuckle and bumps the crown of his forehead against yours. “As you wish, Senator.” 

Rex runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds again, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the hard plastoid as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s in no small. You’ll feel him for days, you’re sure of it as your cunt swallows inch after inch. 

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw his clenched tight as sweat beads at his blonde hairline—Stars above, he’s a sight, struggling not to loose control the second he’s buried inside of you. Desire tickles up your spine, tugging at the fabrics of your being until all you can focus on his how Rex isn’t moving. You shift your hips in tiny, almost imperceptible motions, and squeeze around him. 

“Damn—“ A ragged moans slices through his words as your gentle rocking morphs into needy jolts. It’s easy to fuck yourself onto his cock like this, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. “Fuck, cyare, you’re tight.” 

You smirk and grab at his sculpted shoulders—it’s the push he needs. Rex snarls your name, cups his hands under the globes of your ass and pulls you off his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust before Rex sets a pace, fevered and rabid All pent up energy collecting over the weeks you’ve known each other. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what feels like ages. 

You squeal in surprise as Rex pushes you onto your back and hoists your legs around his hips. Rex buries his nose into the crook of your neck and moans your name like a sweet prayer wrapped in honeycomb. Rex shifts his weight, widening his knees to sink deeper into your cunt—his stubble tickling your throat as his staggered exhales burn hot over your skin. 

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, scorching through each and every veins with the catastrophic brilliance of an imploding star. Shit—

“So good t’me—so perfect,” he huffs into your ear. Rex turns his head and steals a kiss. “Feel fuckin’ good stretched around my cock."

You clench around him hard as Rex’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s barely any build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that sweeps through your body, from your aching center down to your toes. It steals away all the air left in your lungs and leaves your clutching his arm and shuddering for a hold in your own reality—the steady warmth of his body that’s unburdened by armor a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you. 

His gentle, and pliant kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth over your neck and collar bone as his hips struggle to keep a definitive pattern. Rex’s curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star.   

“Where can—can I?”

You grab at his head and whine his name. “Anywhere—in me—you can cum in me.”

With a loving caress over back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, he reaches release. Rex’s moan is airy as his eyes slam shut and captures your mouth in a sizzling kiss. He’s twitching in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over your robes you lay over. Whatever. 

Rex nips at your skin as the last dregs of pleasure jolt up your spine. Neither of you say a word as Rex’s hips come to a slow. Time trickles through your fingers like sand through an hourglass half empty but instead of rushing to dress, you choose to lie on the ground—two halves of a mess someone’s been meaning to clean up for the better part of a long while. You feel at home here—content as your fingers run up and down the back of his head, a bit irked by the armor still covering his back. You’re terrified of the months to come—but at least you have each other. After all, gardens will bloom and flourish with fresh blooded love and wild mistakes sculpted from passion forever if you believe hard enough…wont they?

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Seven)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) maid outfit, spanking, vaginal fingering, panty sniffing, pussy slapping, Oc’s ex is an ass, use of a vibrator, mirror sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, rougher sex, choking, sad oc, vulnerable Tae,

Notes: Ch7 is here! A lot goes on but I hope you guys like this chapter. I would say the second part of the story is truly beginning. ;) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @getmemyfries @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

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Month 7

“I believe you missed a spot.” You glance over your shoulder to see Taehyung pointing down at some random spot on the lower shelf of the bookcase. His expression is dark, his eyes half lidded as he gazes at you. You turn around to face him, your breasts pushed out thanks to the…outfit…you are wearing. You reach forward with the white duster in hand and lightly sweep it across his chest.

“Where?” You tease. “Here?” You slide the duster lower until it barely grazes over his crotch.

Taehyung slightly moves his head to the side as he pushes a short breath of air out, he looks up as a sly smile draws itself on his perfect lips.

“Finish dusting the bookshelf,” he sounds amused, “Down there, I want you bent over, making sure it’s perfectly cleaned.” He points low again.

You raise your brows and say ‘Ah’, turning back around to face the shelves again. “Yes, Taehyung.” You whisper out and he smirks.

Your maid outfit is quite short on you, the material tight around your body. It’s very low cut giving Taehyung the perfect view of your pushed up breasts that he basically drools at the sight. But now he is getting the view of your ass. The way you are bent over, dusting the shelf has his pants getting tighter and tighter around his cock.

Taehyung walks forward until his crotch is directly pushed up against your cheeks, and his hands are gripping at your waist.

“Lower, clean lower.” He instructs and you begin to bend lower, your ass on fuller display now, the black lacey thong doing little to cover you and leaving nothing to the imagination. Taehyung’s eyes slowly skim down your back until they are settling at your cheeks being pushed up against him.

“Am I doing a good job?” you wiggle your ass and he bites down on his bottom lip. Hard. His plump flesh stuck between his teeth as he continues to stare down at you. You start moving your ass side to side, up and down. Circling your hips into his crotch and Taehyung sighs out, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Don’t make me fuck you right here.” He warns, his voice is tight and strained. You can’t help but push back harder, feeling his hardening cock grow against your cheeks. Taehyung steps back from you, his hands sliding from your waist to your ass. He squeezes the cheek and gives one side a generous spank.

“Keep moving your hips.” He commands, “Fuck yourself onto my fingers.” And then his hand slides down until his fingers are at your wet folds, the material of your thong barely covering you. With his other hand he begins to slip your underwear off of you, he squats behind you dragging them down your legs, slowly…very slowly. You whine when he takes his time, he is always taking his fucking time. It drives you absolutely nuts.

“For fucks sake, woman.” He breathes out, “You are so fucking wet. You like dressing up this much? You like teasing me this much?” he lifts one foot at a time as he takes the underwear off of you. He brings the panties to his nose and sniffs the soaked material.

“Mm.” He throws the thong to the ground, and gets closer to your bare pussy.

You wiggle your ass again and he darkly chuckles, he brings his hand forward and lightly slaps your wet cunt.

“Taehyung!” You moan, you voice shaking as your arousal begins dripping down your pussy and onto your inner thighs. “Please touch me again.”

“My fingers.” He says, “That’s all you get.”

His fingers play at your folds again, they slide between them, gathering your juices. His fingers are so intimidatingly beautiful and long and you anticipate the feel of them entering you. But he doesn’t quite yet, he just continues to slide them between your folds. The tips of his fingers brushing against your clit, leaving you whining.

“I only have one rule for you baby girl.” Taehyung leans forward to kiss your right ass cheek. “You have to be loud. I want every microphone in this place picking up your moans.” He finally dips a finger into your hole and you cry out.

“That’s it. But louder.” He leaves another kiss as he enters another finger. The high pitched moan that leaves your lips should be illegal, it is such a cry in pleasure that it is obvious that his fingers bring you a feeling of euphoria.

“Taehyung, Taehyung.” You start chanting his name, in hopes he will enter another long finger but instead he starts to slowly, very fucking slowly, thrust his fingers in and out of you. He curls them in a way that brushes against your most sensitive fucking spot that has you rocking your hips along with his movements.

“That’s it baby.” He stops moving his hand, but continues to curl and scissor his fingers in you as you fuck his fingers. You rock your hips back and forth, choosing a quick pace as you fuck his long, delicious fingers. Your long, dragged out moans fills his ears and he just smiles as he stares at your pussy. His cock is aching. He wants to fuck you so bad. But as said before, he is a man of self-control. His ability to refrain from fucking you rough and quick astonishes even him.

“Taehyung!” you whine, “Oh god!”

His fingers continue to hit that spot inside you that has you tensing so hard, you clench around his fingers and moan loudly, so fucking loudly that you don’t even recognize yourself.

“That’s it…that’s it.” His other hand sneaks its way around your body until his fingers find your swollen clit. He starts rubbing tight circles, your knees shaking and your body starting to give out.

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna…” you pant, “Can I come? Please?” you move against him faster.

Taehyung licks his lips, he watches at your juices run down your legs and he feels so fucking pleased with himself. He finally starts thrusting his fingers into you once again, at a brutal pace while his other fingers still work themselves on your clit. Your shaky legs give out on you and you fall to all fours on the floor. Your face smooshed in the carpet as you raise your ass higher in the air.

“You can come.” He gives his permission and you groan out loudly, “Now.” He says with a low voice. You feel the wave of your orgasm hit you, it washes over you wave after wave, drowning you in pleasure. Your body is about to fall completely to the floor when Taehyung’s fingers leave your body to catch you.

“That’s it baby.” He whispers, “You did so fucking well.” He starts rubbing your back as he pulls you into his chest. “You put on quite the show. I bet these fuckers watching are creaming their fucking pants right now.” He chuckles. You breathe heavily into his chest, a small laugh leaving your mouth.

“How about we shower?” he offers, his hand still on your back. “Clean you up.”

“I want…I want you to come too…” you say between harsh breaths, “Not fair that I—”

“Oh baby.” Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut and laughs. “You think I wouldn’t come at the sight of you? You think my cock stayed good? Stayed pure? You think I didn’t explode in my pants watching you fuck my fingers? Watching you on all fours in this fucking outfit?”

You lift your head from him with a confused expression until a smirk plays at your lips.

“You came? Just watching me? Without touching yourself?”

Taehyung opens his eyes to gaze at you, his licks his lips and brings your hand to dip inside his pants. The feeling is wet and sticky and your eyes widen.

“You’re just too fucking sexy.” He admits with a dark chuckle, “Sometimes I allow myself to lose a little control, you know?”

Dear Lord, this man drives you fucking nuts. You lean in to find his lips…you don’t think you will ever get used to this. The feeling of his lips on yours…the feeling of this.

But something is off. You feel it deep within your bones. And nothing makes you more afraid.

~~~~~~

“W-What do you mean?” you feel your lip tremble. “What are you talking about?”

“This has gone on too long, y/n. I had to do something about it.” Ben’s lips are set in a firm line. “You are crossing too many boundaries.”

“Boundaries? I just told them we—”

“We what?” he snaps. “You blabbed and lied to the whole office.”

“L-Lied?” you feel your body get really warm, slowly filling with rage. “What are you talking about? Lied?”

“Saying we are in some sort of romantic relationship? How delusional are you?” he grits out, “So I was nice to you a few times, but you become so delirious and imagine we are in some sort of relationship?” he scoffs, “It’s truly sick.”

You pull your eyebrows together, completely confused and shocked at his words. What is he fucking saying? What is he going on about?

“I filed a complaint about you to HR. They will deal with this legally.”

“L-Legally?” You’re speechless. “What the fuck are you talking about Ben?” you glance towards his cracked open office door, you know at the volume you two are speaking at you can be heard.

“You told me you loved me!” you cry out. “You have fucked on this very desk!” you point at his office desk and look at him incredulously.

“Christ’s sake, y/n. I will call security.”

You feel tears bubble in your eyes and they begin streaming down your face.

“Ben? What is this about? Why are you doing this?”

“This is truly unprofessional.” He walks closer to you then leans down to whisper in your ear. “If I were you, I would just go.” Then leans away with a dark smirk on his face.

“Fuck you.” You spit out, “Go to fucking Hell.” You turn towards his office door and swing it open, walk through, and slamming it shut.

You wipe at your face, walking to your cubicle to gather your things. Layla stares at you from her seat and shakes her head disapprovingly.

“You’re so pathetic.” She snarls, “Making all this shit up.”

You whip your head in her direction, not believing your ears. Sure, you kept your relationship a secret for a while and maybe she has a hard time believing that but—

“Did you do all this because you were jealous?” Layal spits out, “That he would flirt with me? Did you want it to be you?”

“Layla—”

“Get out of here.”

You feel weak. Too weak to respond, too weak to defend yourself. You gather your things and make your way out of the buildings floor, to the elevators. You cry the entire way down to the ground floor. Not believing a thing that just happened to you. The man you have been with for over 6 moths just betrayed the fuck out of you, just embarrassed you in front of the entire office. He ruined you. You will never recover from this. How could you?

“So she…chose him over you?” Taehyung’s deep voice crawls all over your skin as he asks the question that depresses you further.

“I guess…” you bring a cracker to your lips, sticking it between them but not eating it. You stare blankly at the couch cushion beneath you, not entirely wanting to have this conversation.

“But you two were friends…” Taehyung scrunches his face in displeasure, he’s starting to get peeved, you can tell.

“It’s fine, Tae.” You finally open your mouth and take a bite of the cracker and swallow the dry food in one go. The crackers slowly making its way down your throat, a lump is formed and you reach towards the coffee table a gulp down some water.

“It’s not fine y/n.” he huffs out, “These people hurt you. Makes me wanna—”

“I said it’s fine.” You try again, setting the water back down. “It’s in the past.”

“Babe…” Taehyung’s hand finds yours, he wraps his fingers around yours tightly and strokes his thumb over your soft skin. “I know you don’t want to remember this…I understand. Talking about your past can be hard—”

“What about you?” you snap your head up, looking into his eyes with a somewhat hard stare. “Should we talk about your past?”

“I’m an open book, y/n.” he whispers softly, “You can ask me whatever and I will gladly tell you…” he squeezes your hand but you continue to stare at him coldly.

“What about Hana? In her eyes you guys are practically together.” You grit your teeth, “I kind of feel like the other woman here.” You admit. Taehyung’s eyes widen just slightly before they fill with something similar to guilt.

“But we weren’t together. And I doubt she is waiting for me all this time…”

“You claimed to be so in love with her Taehyung, and now you just aren’t?” you snap, making Taehyung flinch. His lips turn downwards as a frowns decorates his face, he then looks at you narrowing his eyes.

“Careful, y/n.” he warns. “I understand you’re feeling—”

“Oh? And how am I feeling?” you pull your hand away from his, setting it into your lap, joining your other hand.

“Insecure.” He says bluntly. “But it’s okay. I will say what I have to say to reassure you.”

“Oh? So you are just saying whatever you think will help me feel better? Whatever it takes, right?”

“y/n…” Taehyung can’t help but rolls his eyes. “Everything I say will be the truth. I would never…I will never lie to you.”

You stare at him with pinched brows, your breathing harsher than before. You grit your teeth in frustration and tear your eyes away from his.

“Sure, Taehyung. So what? You just suddenly don’t feel anything for her?”

Taehyung breathes in and out a few times, trying to gather his patience.

“A long time ago I asked you if it really seemed like a had feelings for her…everyone was right. I don’t. I just wanted to. I wanted something, someone…but now—”

“How do I know you just aren’t transferring those same feelings to me?”

“For fucks sake, woman.” Taehyung runs a hand down his face. “I am literally falling in love with you!”

Your eyes quickly dart across the room, you try to find something to focus on—anything but Taehyung.

“Look at me.” He demands of you. “Now.” And then you are feeling his fingers at your jaw as he softly guides you to face him. “I am going to make sure this works no matter what. And that will take a lot of fucking communication. So talk.”

“I…” your eyes finally find his, they’re like a pool of chocolate and you find yourself wanting to take a dip. “I don’t know if I am ready.” You breathe out, the admission making you feel small.

Taehyung gulps, his hands coming together to rest in his lap.

“Ready for what?” he asks, the nervousness evident in his voice.

“You.”

Taehyung’s hands are sweaty as he holds onto himself, bracing himself if you are to continue but you don’t. You stay silent as you search his eyes.

“Tae?”

Taehyung blinks at you, clearing his throat.

“I…” he begins, “I understand.”

“I do like you Taehyung.” You clarify before he can overthink. “I just—”

“I said I understand.” He reminds you softly. “And trust me, I know you like me, I would be blind to think you didn’t. I don’t play games y/n. I don’t want you to either. Be real with me, be honest.” He releases a shaky breath. “You’re still going through a lot, you probably don’t have closure…you probably have a lot to work out when you get back home.” He says quickly, “Love is the last thing on your mind—”

“That’s not true!” you cut in. “God, Taehyung you make me…you make me want to forget everything. You make me want to stay on this island with you for forever.”

Taehyung blinks at you again before he offers you a small smile.

“But that’s not real life y/n.” he looks down at his hands, “I want to experience real life with you.” He finds your eyes again, “And you aren’t ready for that.”

“I want to be.” Your eyes begin to wet with tears. “I really, really want to be.”

“I know baby.”

“Slow.” You scoot closer to him, “I still want to be in this. Just slow.” You say, not believing yourself. Your trauma isn’t your only problem here. It’s this whole damn company.

“You still want me?” Taehyung whispers softly and you begin to feel yourself melt into liquid, your body puddling on the couch.

“Tae…” you lean into his space, pecking his lips lightly. “Yes, of course.” You lean back and smile. “You mean so much to me…” you look down at his tense hands. You want to comfort him now. “You are such a light in my life.” You fingers cover his hands and your squeeze lightly. “I feel so strongly for you.” You admit. Hating yourself for being so drawn to him.

“Yeah?” he releases some of the tension in his body through a long, shaky breath.

“Yeah.”

“Then we have to communicate. I know it’s hard. But y/n, I am quite literally desperate to make this work.” He sighs, “I will do whatever it takes. And I just want to know if you will do the same.” His dark eyes pierce into yours and you find yourself being even more drawn to him, leaning closer and closer like he has you under some sort of spell.

“Yes, Taehyung. But…”

“She quit her job out of nowhere! Came back home? This isn’t damn suspicious to you honey?” Your moms voice is loud enough for you to hear from the living room.

“She said she has her reasons sweetheart. Let’s just trust her, be there for her.”

“Do you think this has anything to do with that boyfriend she had? You think they broke up?” you mother pries further, making your father roll his eyes.

“You think our daughter would move to another town just because of a break up?” he groans and you bite your bottom lip as you eavesdrop.

You hear your mother scoff, “Wouldn’t be that surprised. She’s known for running away when shit hits that fan.” She reminds your dad and you feel your eyes gloss over and the slight burn of your throat.

“Sweetheart…” you father warns, “Let’s just be there for her for now, she will come to us eventually.”

But will you? Even your father isn’t sure.

You feel the tightness in your chest only intensify as you recall your memories. Taehyung watches you with careful eyes as he thinks of your life and the things you’ve been through. He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into his chest, your head getting buried into his shoulder and he starts to soothingly rub your back.

“You can cry if you need to.” His voice is soft, softer than you have ever heard it. This only pushes you to listen to him…you cry. You cry just as hard as you did in the elevator that first day. He rubs circles into your back and whispers sweet words into your hair. You hate this. You feel pathetic. But somehow you feel yourself getting freed with every tear that drops and soaks into his t shirt. You finally…finally after all this time, for the first time, feel someone’s support. You feel someone understand you, believe you.

“Taehyung…” you cry into his shirt harder as that realization hits you. “Taehyung…”

He slams his eyes shut and inhales you. The scent of your shampoo filling his senses and he goes dizzy.

“I’m here baby. I’m here.”

But he won’t always be here, you think. Once he goes home why wouldn’t he just continue to live his normal life? Why wouldn’t Hana wait for him? He’s amazing. He’s absolutely the best thing that has happened to you in the last year. Why wouldn’t someone wait for him?

This only makes you cry harder. He pulls you into his lap and continues to stroke your back. He is terrified. He won’t say that out loud, but he is. He is falling for you harder and harder with every moment he spends with you, good or bad. He just wants to protect you, to be there for you, to make you safe and happy.

“y/n?” he leans back to get a look at your crying face, but you only shove your face deeper onto his shoulder, refusing to be seen right now.

“Will you look at me?” he softly pleads. “Please.”

You hesitate for a moment but finally lift your head, showing him your swollen eyes and puffy lips.

“Still think you are falling in love with me?” you joke pathetically and Taehyung smiles sadly.

“I think I already am.”

Month 8

It’s been 8 months…stuck on this island for 8 months. You know the day to return home is coming at any moment. The anticipation quite literally kills you. Every day that passes you want to believe that Taehyung’s feelings are real. You want to believe it so badly. But something deep within you, stops you. You have these heavy ass doubts that weigh you down.

Taehyung isn’t blind…of course he has noticed. He has known you for 8 months, you and only you so of course he has noticed—he knows you—he hates how well he knows you. Taehyung doesn’t give up though, he gives you space when you obviously need it and he is there for you when you also obviously need it. This makes you feel like a mess. Mostly just makes you feel as pathetic as you probably are.

You lay in bed with Taehyung snoozing next to you, his arm draped lazily around your hips. Did this company win? They forced you two together…and he probably only thinks he’s in love with you. You are the only one he knows…what other choice did he have? You blink back growing tears and huff out loudly.

“You okay?” you hear Taehyung whisper from beside you, startling you.

“Y-Yes.” You lie. “Just—”

“Just stressed? You have been really stressed the last month…” he awkwardly chuckles.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how to distress I guess.” You awkwardly laugh back and he stays silent for a moment.

“I could think of a few ways…”

It’s been a while since the two of you had sex. Maybe a few weeks? You’ve just been so into your head that you just can’t get into it. But Taehyung’s touch sounds so warm and inviting right now.

“And…what are those ways?” you turn to lay on your side, inching closer to him.

“What ways will make you most comfortable?” Taehyung asks slowly and carefully. His hand reaches up to caress you cheek and you automatically lean into his touch for the first time in what feels like forever.

“Anything you can come up with Tae.” You breathe out, you words hitting his plush lips.

“I think I know how to relax you.” He tests the waters by leaning in to kiss you. The sigh of relief that pushes past his lips when you kiss him back is almost comical, almost sad.

“Come with me.” He says pulling away from you, only confusing you.

“W-Where?” you ask as he rises from the sheets and steps out onto the floor. You follow his lead though, leaving the bed to join him. He takes your hand and leads you out of the bedroom, walking you through the hallway until you reach another bedroom door. This room?!

“Tae…” you softly say his name and he squeezes your hand.

“Just trust me.” He opens the bedroom door and switches on the soft, low lighting.

You both walk through the room and he leads you in front of the bed.

“Undress.” He tells you, his voice a little lower than usual. “Now.”

You release a long breath before lifting your tank top of your head and shoving your shorts down your legs. You stand here in just a purple bralette and some black panties and Taehyung raises a brow at you.

“All the way.” He says, “All your clothes.”

He crosses his arms over his chest as he waits expectantly. His dark gaze making you feel nervous so suddenly.

“D-Don’t stare.” You reach behind you to unclasp your bra, the purple material dropping to the floor, exposing your breasts.

“Panties next.” He commands, licking his lips as he gazes at you.

“Taehyung.” You whine, feeling so exposed. Taehyung walks closer to you until he’s standing inches away, his hand reaches forward until his fingers are playing with the band of your underwear. He lifts the band up and slaps it against your skin.

“I said panties next.” Then he’s stepping away from you as he smirks.

You gulp, trying not to roll your eyes as you feel the sting on your hips from the panties being slapped against you.

“Yes Taehyung.” You listen, dragging the panties down one leg at a time, they pool at your ankles and you kick them away.

“Good job baby girl.” He says, turning around to walk towards one of the drawers. He rummages through it until he finds what he is looking for.

“Perfect.” He says, holding something small in his hands. You don’t know what it is specifically, but you have an idea considering you know what’s in that drawer.

“Taehyung.” You whine again and he keeps what’s in his hand hidden as he walks towards you. He sits on the edge of the bed, scotting back just a bit and spreading his legs.

“Sit between my legs.” He orders. “Facing the mirror.”

You raise a brow at him and he smiles. “Just trust me.” He says.

“Okay…” you walk forward and turn around, sitting on the bed and scooting between his legs until your bare back in flush against his chest.

“Take your shirt off…I want to feel your skin on my skin.” You quietly beg. Taehyung takes a moment to think before he’s nodding his head at you, his eyes catching yours in the mirror.

“Sure baby.” He lifts his shirt over his head and throws it off to the side and you lean back to feel his warn skin on your back.

You stare at him through the mirror, his breaths hitting the side of your neck and you begin to close your eyes. What does he have in mind?

“Spread your legs. Put your legs on either side of mine…bend your knees…just like that, yes.” Taehyung praises you as you do as he instructs. You watch in the mirror as Taehyung guides your legs apart, his eyes on your pussy in the mirror as you expose yourself to him.

“Perfect.” Suddenly, you hear a low buzzing sound. Your eyes shoot open and you catch his gaze.

“Tae…”

He shows you the small bullet vibrator to you in the mirror, his smile growing as he watches your eye lids get heavier. You nod your head to him, and roll it back until it hits his shoulder.

“Oh baby, you’re the one doing it, I’m just here for support.” He takes your hand and wraps your fingers around the small vibrator. You eye him in the mirror and breathe out roughly, you feel yourself getting wet at just the thought.

“I’m getting myself off?” your shaky voice makes Taehyung chuckle.

“That’s the idea.” He gestures for you to begin. “Go ahead.”

You lick your dry lips and stare at yourself in the mirror. You slowly bring the vibrator closer to your body, your eyes scan your body until you get the idea to start at top. You bring the vibrator and circle it around your left nipple. You sigh out when it first makes contact, the vibrations making your bud harden. Taehyung watches in amusement, he bites down on his plump bottom lip and moves his hips upwards.

You can feel his cock getting hard at the top of your ass cheeks, between your crack. He must like what he sees. You slowly glide the small vibrator down the valley of your breasts until its dragging down to your lower belly. You sigh out again, drawing pictures over your sensitive stomach. You then glide the vibrator to your inner thigh, moving it closer and closer to your dampening folds. You sigh out a little louder this time, making Taehyung gulp as he watches you.

You feel his hard cock twitch in his shorts, the thin material doing little to hide his raging erection.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He whispers in your ear, his eyes never leaving yours now.

You finally take the vibrator and put it at your center…you start low. The toy at your hole until you slowly, very slowly drag it upwards…you press the button and raise the speed a setting. You swallow hard when you drag it even higher, and the buzzing toy finally meets your clit. You don’t intend for this—but the moan that leaves your mouth is long, and loud. You slowly close your eyes as you circle the vibrator over your bundle of nerves, pressing the button again and it begins to vibrate faster. You move your hips up and down, the feeling so fucking good that you cannot help the way you squirm between his legs.

“Open your eyes. Look at me.” His hands go from your hips to your thighs and he squeezes them. You open your eyes and get a look at yourself first. Your expression is so fucked out as you continue to run the vibrator against your clit, the loud buzzing not doing much to drown out your moans. Then your eyes find his…his eyes are terrifyingly dark, filled with the most lust you can imagine. He heaving chest only pushes you to buck your hips harder onto the vibrator.

You press the button once more, the setting changing into a pulsing vibration and you cry out, pressing the button again, building the tension. Taehyung catches his bottom lip between his teeth again, he swears he can taste blood from how hard he is biting. You squirm harder between his legs, beginning to slide down his chest as you start to chase your high that is soon approaching. You are leaving a fucking mess…your inner thighs are drenched and you are leaving a big soak spot on the sheets from how dripping wet you are.

“You’re doing so good baby. Can I touch you?” Taehyung’s voice is deep and strained and you frantically nod your head yes.

You lean your head back on his shoulder again, your half lidded eyes watching as his hand moves closer to your pussy. He uses his other hand to spread your legs further apart and then his eyes bore into your pussy as his fingers dive into your neglected hole. He starts thrusting his fingers in and out as quickly as he can as you raise the speed on the vibrator. You clit is begging you to come. You watch Taehyung’s fingers fuck your hole in the mirror, his eyes focused on this as well. You whimper when you feel your orgasm coming to hit you like a fucking truck, it hits so hard. Taehyung’s free hand grabs a hold of your hand that holds the vibrator and pushes it down on your clit harder, making you see fucking stars as this orgasm washes over you with the most intense wave possible. You shake between his legs, squirming once more when you finish climaxing. But Taehyung keeps the vibrator on you and you cry out, loud and whiny.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you grab a hold of his thighs and squeeze them tightly. “Taehyung!” you pant out.

“Come again.” He adds pressure on your clit, and raises the speed.

You feel the buzzing toy make you go into overdrive. Taehyungs fingers still thrusting in and out of you, curling inside your pussy making you overwhelmed. The toy works its magic though, making you feel a crash of waves, multiple waves drown you repeatedly. You ride them out, as he slows the vibrations down and his fingers leave your hole. You breathe out roughly, crying in pleasure.

“Good girl, good girl.” You lean back on Taehyung and shut your eyes, trying to even out your breathing.

After several long moments of composing yourself you begin to slowly turn in Taehyung’s lap, on your knees, facing him. His eyes stay on the mirror, they travel down your back until they land on your ass. His hands find their way to it, and squeezes it roughly. His eyes finally leave the mirror and meet your gaze.

“What is it baby?” one hand leaves your ass to caress your cheek, “What is it?”

“Will you fuck me? Right here?” you lower yourself onto his crotch, your dripping wet pussy leaking onto his shorts. You can feel how rock hard his is. How is he able to control himself this well?

“Is that what you want? Me?” He narrows his dark eyes at you and smirks.

“Yes.”

“Get on all fours.” He commands, lifting you off his body as he stands to take his shorts and briefs off. His member springs free and you have never seen it so angry, so swollen, so needy, so ready. You listen to what he says, getting on all fours, facing the mirror once more.

“I want you to be rough with me.” You say confidently. “Don’t wanna walk tomorrow.”

“Be careful what you wish for here babe.” Taehyung warns with amusement in his voice.

Taehyung gets on his knees on the bed and positions himself behind you, without much warning he quickly thrusts his cock into your hole. You gasp out, your body pushed forward from the force. Suddenly, he’s grabbing a handful of hair and pulling it up to lift your body to his. You are flush against his chest as he whispers in your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you as hard as I want then?”

“Yes.” You moan out when you feel him starting to slowly thrust in and out of you. He yanks your head to the side and starts placing hot, wet kisses down your neck. One hand on your hip and the other crawls up your stomach, squeezes a tit and then is at you throat. He starts to lightly choke you as he thrusts harder and harder, his grip on your throat getting tighter as well.

“All mine.” He growls into your ear. He pushes your upper body down until you are on all fours again, his eyes meet yours in the mirror and he bites his lips. He begins rolling his hips into your pussy, fucking you deeper. You hear him groan, he watches you in the mirror the entire time as you roll your eyes back. Your loud moans, whiny and desperate.

“Please, harder!” you beg. Taehyung smirks at you…he raises a hand and it comes down on your ass. Then his hips slap into your ass cheeks with such force that you shake, his thrusts so fucking powerful. His skin slapping against your skin, the squelching sound of your pussy and both of your moans fill the room.

“Fuck, fuuuuuuck.” You scream out, his dick reaching so far into you, hitting your fucking g spot over and over.

Taehyung lifts you up again by the hair and once you are on your knees his cock leaves your hole and he pushes you to the mattress. He positions you so you are on your side facing the mirror once again, then he lays behind you and quickly inserts his member into your pussy again.

“Aaagghh.” You groan out when you feel him start to fuck into you, his cock doing wonders. His hand makes its way back to your throat as he starts to choke you again, he leans down until his mouth is latched onto yours and his tongue is down your throat.

You kiss him back with passion, your tongues tangling and dancing. Its wet and sloppy and god, you couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Taehyung slaps his hips into you, and he squeezes his eyes shut as he feels himself getting closer and closer. His hand creeps up your pussy and his fingers find your clit, he rubs on it so deliciously quick that you feel the tension begin to build uncontrollably.

“Faster, faster.” You chant and he grits his teeth in frustration. He’s about to blow, he wants you to come first though but god, if he goes faster he’s going to come all inside you.

“I’m so close Tae, faster!” you plead. He breathes out roughly as he thrusts into you quickly, his fingers pushing down harder on your clit. You feel your orgasm so fucking close, it’s about to explode.

“Fuuuucckk.” Taehyung whines, “I’m gonna come y/n.” he warns. “Where should i—”

“Inside me!” you beg, “Please, please. I need to feel you come inside me, I want all of your cum…” you continue to beg and he throws his head back as he fucks your harder.

His fingers don’t stop their assault on your clit and that is it. That is all you need because you are coming, creaming all over his aching cock. He finally still his hips and shoots his load inside you, painting your walls a milky white. His chest heaves as he holds on to you, bringing you closer to his chest.

“Let me stay inside you.” He doesn’t ask. He tells. You nod your head and look at him through the mirror.

“Taehyung.” You moan, “You feel so good inside me.”

“You absolutely feel amazing.” He assures you, brushing a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead. “Always do.”

After a few moments, Taehyung begins to softly thrust into you again, pushing his cum even deeper within you with his long, thick length. You wince at the feeling but you meet him half way, shoving your ass further into him.

“Again?” you ask in a moan.

“Can’t get enough of you.” He admits between bated breaths.

His head falls on to your shoulder as he slowly fucks you again, his breathing is as unsteady as can be. He groans when he feels your ass push back, making him fuck you faster.

“Slow baby.” He warns, “Just want to enjoy being inside you.” He takes one of your legs and lifts it over his, “Deeper?” he asks.

“Yes, this is good.” You moan, “So good.” The slow drag of his cock brushing against your most sensitive spots again has you melting.

He fucks you like this for a long while, your long, loud moans in competition with his groans and grunts. You swear you can die like this. His cock is sliding in and out of you so slowly and so accurately hitting your g spot that you clench around him so tightly causing him to slam his eyes shut and fuck you just a bit faster.

“Let’s come.” He orders and that is honestly what it takes for you. You feel your orgasm hit you and you ride it out as he comes inside you again, he whines when he finishes.

“God, you feel so amazing.” He whimpers out and you love the sound of him being the whiny one for once.

“You too babe.” You say, your eyes catching his in the mirror. His hand grips your waist and begins to turn you over in his embrace.

Taehyung smiles softly towards you and leans forward to catch your lips in a sweet kiss. He pulls back just as quickly and smirks.

“feeling a little less stressed?”

You feel your heart pinch in your chest…right…your stress. You feel guilt bubble over but you try to smile for him anyway. “Yes babe.” You whisper. “Yes.”

~~~~~~

It’s late, you know that much. You and Taehyung are laid in bed in the master, he’s all snuggled up against you, his soft breaths hitting the side of your neck. You hate yourself. You hate all this overthinking.

The company won. They fucking won. You were never supposed to fall for this, fall for him. Not actually, no, not really. But in pretend, yes. But now they won for real.

You feel lost right now. You briefly felt amazing, but now your overthinking has taken over and now you are left feeling anxious. And you have your biggest fear. Does Taehyung only think he’s in love with you? This company forced you two to be together, to “fall in love” and of course, after spending everyday with you he might think he feels something. That scares you, because it could be true. Your heart just breaks into pieces thinking about it. How do you know that the reason you have feelings for Taehyung isn’t because this company tricked you into it and it’s not real? That thought breaks your heart into even more pieces.

You lay here, your breaking heart pounding in your chest. You could cry. Well, of course you could fucking cry—it’s you. But you could really cry. The type of cry session where you release heart wrenching sobs that break your body.

“Why are you awake?” Taehyung’s voice has you jumping in place. He knits his brows together, concern is laced in his voice.

“Can’t sleep.” you reply plainly. Taehyung smiles, pinching your arm.

“Too happy?” he asks.

You can’t do this. Your bottom lip begins to tremble and you open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Taehyung’s smile fades as the seconds tick by.

“What’s wrong?” he rushes, his hand gripping your arm gently.

You can’t do this. Your eyes start glossing over and you try your hardest to blink back any building tears. Taehyung rubs his hand up and down your arm, trying his best to soothe you.

“y/n, talk to me.” His eyes are wide and round and beautiful.

“Please talk to me, please.” He begs. Yes, Taehyung fucking begs. The tone of his voice is soft and low and pleading. And this just pushes your tears further. Taehyung pulls you into his chest as you begin crying. Those heart wrenching sobs that break your body.

“It’s okay baby, shh, shh.” He pats your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.

“I’m here. You’re just…you’re just overwhelmed, that’s all.” He tries to reason for you. You just cry even harder. Taehyung clears his throat, “Yeah, just overwhelmed.” It sounds like he is convincing himself rather than you.

“Tae…” You cry out softly, trying to calm your tears. When you are able to form coherent sentences you lean back from him and look into his eyes.

“We should talk.” You whisper, for once in your life handling some confrontation.

“No.” Taehyung says, surprising you. “We can-we can talk tomorrow.” You can see the hurt in his eyes. He knows. He knows where this conversation is headed. Because of fucking course he would know, his mind has had to wander there too. Because it’s your reality. “Let’s-let’s just sleep.” And he pulls you in his arms again but you pull away. He looks pained by your action. Your heart drops.

“No Tae—”

“Please.” You both just stare at each other. Silence lingers in the air at your lack of response. Then you are scooting closer to his warm body, wrapping an arm over his chest, you hear him sigh in relief. He then holds you the tightest he has ever held you. His breaths are shaky and you want to cry again. But you don’t.

“I love you.” You barely hear him from how softly he whispers it. But you do hear him and it makes you want to bawl. But once again, you don’t.

You exhale deeply into his chest and close your eyes. You love him too. But you don’t say it. You let the silence swallow you both whole and you swear you can feel his body tremble for a moment and him sniffling above your head.

“Goodnight Taehyung.” And off to sleep you go, no matter how broken you feel.

~~~~~~~~

“Good morning sunshine!” Taehyung is bouncing on the bed slightly as he hovers over you. His smile is big and bright like a kid who just received candy. You want to smile but your heart is heavy. Why is he so happy?

“I made breakfast! Pancakes, your favorite…although I don’t make them as good as you,” He looks all over the room as he speaks, “But I have to say, they’re pretty damn good. I had to test try them of course, make sure they’re safe to eat.” He laughs at himself. “Why don’t you wash up? Then come downstairs.” He smiles at you, his bright eyes shining down at you.

Why is he acting like last night didn’t happen? Well, he’s acting like the good parts of last night happened but not the rest of the night.

“y/n?” he looks down at you, big puppy dog eyes.

“Huh?” You blink up at him.

“Come on!” then he leans down and kisses you on the lips. It’s quick, really quick. But it happens. He lifts himself back up, he nervously nibbles on his bottom lip and his eyes slide to the door. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.” Then he’s jumping out of bed and making his way out of the room.

What the fuck is happening? Why is he pretending you two aren’t necessarily in the best place right now? Like, you don’t have to have a serious conversation? But your confidence to confront him has wavered quite a bit, and you hate yourself for being so weak. You knew you should of done it last night but you let him win. You just couldn’t stand the sight of him being so sad. Today he is super happy! Fake happy. He’s forcing himself and it breaks your heart. Jesus fucking Christ. But his fake smile is better than his real frown.

You force yourself out of bed and drag your feet across the room to the bathroom. You wash your face and brush your teeth but you really need a shower. Especially after last night, you are sure you smell like sweat and sex. Taehyung didn’t seem to mind. He smelled clean. He smelled like soap and his musk, an intoxicating combination. After you’re through with the bathroom you make your way downstairs, the house smells like bacon and you groan at how good it smells.

“Hi.” Taehyung chirps, his smile grows as you walk closer.

“Hi,” You reply slowly, walking up to the dining table. Taehyung slides a plate of pancakes over to the spot in front of him.

“For you.”

The plate has 2 pancakes with strawberry slices covering the top and scrambled eggs and bacon on the side.

“Syrup.” He offers, sliding that across too.

“You didn’t have to…” You mumble under your breath. Taehyung continues smiling brightly at you, grabbing his fork and knife ready to dig into his own food. He really waited for you.

You walk closer to the table, your eyes downcast as you find your seat.

“Thanks…” You whisper. You look down at your food but how can you fucking eat? Your heart is in pain right now, you are in pain right now. You were tricked into these feelings, feelings you are not even sure are real. And he’s looking like the fucking sun right now.

“Aren’t cha gonna eat?” he says, mouth full. Good thing you speak mouth full Taehyung, or else you wouldn’t have understood that.

“Not that hungry.” you admit, not looking at him.

“Come on baby,” his tone is less happily forced and instead softer. “Please eat.” He sets his fork down, you can feel his eyes on you.

“Fine.” you give in quickly, not wanting to worry him. You hear him say ‘good’ in the most chipper voice and it makes you nauseas.

You eat slowly, mostly just picking at your food. You never look up from your plate, but you can feel Taehyung’s gaze, you can sense how worried he is. You know him. You don’t need to look at him to know.

“I was thinking we could paint today.” He says, breaking the silence. He stuffs some bacon into his mouth, chewing loudly. “Whaddya think?” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Taehyung…” You begin to speak but he cuts you off.

“Great!” the sound of the chair screeching across the floor startles you, you look up from your food to see Taehyung standing, his bright smile even brighter. Yup, just like the fucking sun.

“I’ll clean up, you’re done right?” you only nod. “Why don’t you go to the art room and start setting up. I’ll be there in a minute.” He shines so brightly, you are forced to look away. You nod again.

You stand from your chair and walk towards the entry way into the hall but before you can get too far away you hear Taehyung at the sink cursing under his breath. Your heart drops. You turn around and peak into the kitchen to see him standing there, his hands at the kitchen sink with his head low.

“Fuck.” You hear the pain in his voice and you scurry off to the art room, not able to handle this right now.

~

After several minutes of setting up yours and Taehyung’s easel’s and placing down the paper, you search for what colors you want to use. Maybe sticking with blues since blue is how you fucking feel. You are grabbing for a few when you hear Taehyung enter the room. You turn to face him.

“Hi.” He says with that chipper tone but his eyes are glossy. Had he been crying? Fuck, you can’t handle this.

“Taehyung…” you start again, determined to confront this situation. But he cuts you off again with a pained smile.

“Thanks for setting up for me babe.” He ruffles your hair, like he just needed to touch you in some shape or form.

“R-right.”

You two paint in silence. Complete fucking silence. The tension in the room is absolutely suffocating, it’s hitting you in strong waves, pushing you around, drowning you. You can’t take this anymore, You have to say something.

“Taehyung—”

“Wanna know when I knew that I was in love with you?” He speaks up, his voice not laced in that fake joy. His eyes are focused on the painting in front of him, his fingers wrapped around the brush as he strokes the paper in beautiful color. You frown, not really wanting to know.

“Taehyung—”

“I fell in love with you when you made me realize I could be loved. Really loved.” He dips the brush into a cup of water, wiping it clean on the edge of the cup. “That I could love too.” He adds, still not looking at you, only focusing on his work.

“…Taehyung.” You just sound sad, the tone of your voice is depressing.

“You made me realize I don’t have to force any feelings…they could just be.” He pauses his hand before his paint brush is hitting the paper. “And I thought, ‘wait why do I feel this way?’” he lowers his head, chuckling to himself. “Then it was so fucking obvious.” He continues his work on the paper, dabbing the green paint in different spots.

You are left stunned. Speechless. Completely silenced. He just sits there, not even sparing you a glance as he paints his work of art. Like he didn’t just confess something so utterly beautiful to you. He must really think he loves you and it crushes you that he probably does not. You can’t let this go on any longer. He paints in green but you are about to turn his whole world blue.

“Your feelings aren’t real Taehyung.” you say in one breath. He stills his hand for a moment then continues to paint. “Don’t you see we’ve been tricked into these, these ‘feelings’” you use your fingers to quote the word for emphasis. “You just think you love me but you probably don’t. You’ve just spent enough time with me that you think you love me. You have no one else to love, why not me?” You see his body go tense and he stops his hand from painting. He lowers it and sets the brush down and turns in his seat to face you.

“How fucking dare you?” he grits out, his teeth are clenched and his eyes are narrowed. You jump at his exclamation.

“How fucking dare you try and tell me how genuine my feelings are?” He’s angry. His fists are balled up and his knuckles are turning white. So yeah, angry.

“Tae—”

“No! you let me fucking speak.” He grits again, “If I say I love you because I do then fucking believe me!” He’s shaking. His voice is loud and booming and it startles you.

“Please just listen to me—”

“No you listen.” He stands up from the chair and walks toward you, “Why are you doing this, huh? Things were so perfect.” He stops in front of you and pulls you up by the arms. Your chests almost touch from how close you are. “Unless…” he looks down at his feet, “You’re saying all of this because that’s how you feel. You’re the one unsure of your feelings. You’re the one who only likes me—loves me—because there’s no one else.” He looks into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Maybe.” You finally say. And you wish you didn’t because Taehyung releases a shaky breath and his brows crease together as he forms the saddest smile you have ever seen. The canvas of his life is full of beautiful bright colors but you continue to splatter blue and grey paint all over it. The paint mixes together and drips down, a gloomy mess.

“Oh.” He steps back. “I see.” He takes another step back, carding his fingers through his hair. He looks into your eyes as his gloss over, “I’ll leave you alone then.” And he turns around and walks out of the room, leaving you behind. And being left behind is probably what you deserve. Your heart has fucking shattered. You don’t want him to leave you alone. You don’t want him to leave. You want this to be real, you want this to be real so fucking bad. But how can you be sure that it is? And of course cry baby y/n makes her appearance because you are back on your chair, letting a stream of tears fall down your cheeks. You cry. And cry. Loudly. You know Taehyung hears it but he does as he says—he leaves you alone. Just as you fucking deserve. Your body is shaking from your sobs and you enter a full on panic attack. Your breathing picks up and your chest tightens and you feel like you are being choked. Like someone wants you dead.

“If I say I love you because I do then fucking believe me!” His words echo in your mind. Right. He’s asking you to trust him. You want to…but you are now just debating on trusting yourself. You want to believe your feelings are real. You still believe the company tricked you both, they could of grabbed any two strangers and they would probably “fall in love” with given time. But thinking that feels wrong because your relationship with Taehyung is deeper than that. You know that. He…is your best friend. And you…you…

You wipe at your face as fresh tears slide down the warmth of your cheek. Your throat burns as you choke on a sob. You have fallen in love with him. Genuinely. And you have to trust your feelings. You have to trust his feelings. But it is so, so hard.

~

The rest of the day drags on slowly, you hole up in your room until night time finally approaches. You have cried enough today for the next 5 years. Your eyes are swollen and so, so puffy. You look at yourself in your bathroom mirror, and wince at the sight. You look rough, you won’t lie. You finally decide it’s time to try to sleep.

You slip between the sheets and slide down far into them, letting the soft material hug you closely. You’ll be sleeping without Taehyung tonight and the thought makes you feel oh so lonely. You close your eyes and think of him. You can’t help but chuckle when you recall meeting him at first…you thought he was some closed off asshole. He even made a big deal that he would not fall in love with you. Then your smile fades…you recall the first time you cuddled with him, first time you saw him naked, first time you kissed him…you think of the first time he was inside you…his long, beautiful fingers. You think of the first time he was really inside you.

You start to feel so lonely and lost without him. But sleep finally starts to take over, your limbs feeling heavy, your eyes refusing to stay open. You know you two will have to really talk this out. There’s still so much you have to discuss because you are just so confused and unsure at the moment, but you have a feeling Taehyung will somehow make you feel okay. Finally, after a long day…the world goes dark and you’re asleep.

The sun is shining extra brightly this morning…your dark drapes doing little to cover the offending light like it usually does. You keep your eyes closed though, not wanting to get up quite yet. Your mind automatically goes to Taehyung again…you wish you were feeling yourself wrapped up in his arms this morning much like other mornings. You wish you could feel his breaths fanning against your neck, you wish you could feel his limbs draped over your own.

You start to feel that familiar heartbreak…you really, like really need to talk to him. Maybe he can sort out your messy, mushy brain, maybe he has the answers. Or maybe you just want to see him. Even if you are feeling as uneasy as you are. You just want to make sure he is okay.

You finally begin to open your eyes, one lid at a time. The sun making the room glow in whites and yellows. You start to sit up and rub the sleep that crusts your eyes and soak in your surroundings.

That’s exactly when you feel the panic set in. This isn’t your bedroom. This is a small bed, there’s none of Taehyung’s painting on the walls and your sheets in your bed are much softer. Then it hits you. You do recognize this room. It’s your room at your parents’ house. You start to sit up straighter, your entire body shaking. Your hands tremble as you pull the blanket on the bed back and try to stand from the bed. But your knees are weak, your legs shaking. You feel like someone has drained all the energy from your body as you stand here, you are sure you are as pale as a ghost. Your mouth is agape and your eyes wide. You slowly look around the room, there’s things in here that weren’t before…like this place has become a place for storage.

You hear fainting humming coming from the other side of the house, your head whips up in that direction and you recognize that voice. Mom? You blink repeatedly, not believing your ears. You slowly take a few steps forward toward the door and slowly reach for the knob, your weak, trembling hand trying to twist it so you can open the door. Once the door is opened you smell bacon…but unlike yesterday the smell of bacon is making you nauseas. You walk with shaky legs, small steps at a time as you walk through the hallway to make your way to the kitchen. The humming more clear and becoming louder the closer you get.

You finally walk into the kitchen and see your mothers back, she is at the stove cooking. Your breathing is sharp as you stare at her and you feel yourself become dizzy and lightheaded.

“Mom?” you stutter out quietly. Your mother freezes her actions at the stove. She slowly turns around and once she spots you she drops the tongs she was holding on the tiled floor. She is maybe even paler than you, she looks like she legitimately saw a ghost.

“y-y/n?”

“Hey what happened, I thought I heard you drop some—” your father is cut off when he walks in from the living room as he sees you. He blinks at you over and over until his eyes are wet with tears and he’s rushing to hug you.

You are in a state of shock that you don’t process that your mother has also finally raced over to hug you as well. Your parents embracing you tightly as they sob.

What’s happening? Why are you here? Where’s Taehyung?

~

It’s been two weeks and fuck. He has no way of contacting you. You don’t have any social media and you two never exchanged numbers…the only way for you to talk to him is if you reach out. And you…you aren’t sure you want to just yet. You’re sure he’s settling back into life just like you are, you don’t want to intrude. He has family, he has friends. You’re sure he hasn’t even thought about you yet…you’re sure he’s doing okay.

It’s been two weeks and you have mostly been in and out of intelligence offices for your country. You have had to describe the island over and over to strangers, they have been on the search for you for the last 8 months. Your parents were starting to give up. The love company kept them updated on your island life though, sending them pictures of you and Taehyung during your 8 month stay. You are creeped out all over again.

You’re sure Taehyung is going through something similar in Korea. Time keeps passing and every day you lose the spark and motivation to reach out to him. You stalk his social media but he has not posted anything until finally, 2 months into your real lives again you see he has posted a picture of him and his friends. He looks happy. And that’s how you let a total of 6 months pass you by without reaching out to Taehyung. 6 months without the man you without a doubt love. 6 months of absolute loneliness, even when you are surrounded by people. 6 months and you are sure he has probably moved on. But you have not. Even with these last 6 months…Taehyung is all you can think about. 6 fucking months.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

wordless, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: A library is full of words and quiet. Jeon Jungkook liked to go to the public library a lot. It turns out, so do you. And that’s how it begins, from passing glances, to words on a screen, to Jungkook now sitting shirtless in his bedroom, heart racing as he presses the record button.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, filming of nudity and m-masturbation, semi-public dry humping); fluff; non-idol!BTS; the definition of “well that escalated quickly” but also not? lol; shy!Jungkook

hello again, @gowayyeonjun, ;)

–

He stared at the black screen, reflecting his nervous expression.

His hand shot out and flipped it down. His phone case faced upwards, a clear case with a carrot graphic on the bottom against the matte black of his smartphone. A reference to his childhood nickname because of his ever-so-slightly too large front teeth.

He took a deep breath and flipped his phone back up, leaning it against his windowsill.

“Am I really going to do this?” he asked his own reflection, who did nothing but repeat his question back to him.

He raised his hand, dropped it. Raised it again, chewing on his lip. Leaned forward and pressed his finger to his phone screen, unlocking it. Then he pulled up the camera app. Before, he had been staring at his reflection in the black screen, but now his face was in full color, curly dark hair over one eye since it was freshly washed, his tan chest bare, gray sweatpants slung low on his hips. Black tattoos on his right arm on full display, brown eyes wide and slightly terrified.

If you told Jeon Jungkook six months ago that he was about to film himself masturbating, he would have told you that you were fucking crazy.

He breathed out tensely, puffing his cheeks.

It was all your fault.

If he hadn’t seen you, he wouldn’t be doing this.

-

Jungkook liked to read and he liked to go to the public library. He knew libraries were becoming obsolete, but Jungkook loved libraries because they were quiet, they were full of books, and nobody tried to talk to him. That was it, really. He was a shy person and he really didn’t know what to do when someone approached him and tried to chat him up. When Jungkook was in front of a crowd doing public speaking, he was fine. But one-on-one interactions freaked him out. He was bad at talking and connecting with people on a personal level.

It didn’t really help that a lot of people thought he was attractive.

Jungkook didn’t think he was ugly, but he didn’t really think he was that crazy special either. He was just a guy and he was just trying to go about his everyday life without having a crowd of giggling girls following him for half a block trying to get his number.

That’s why Jungkook liked libraries. People didn’t talk at libraries. They were supposed to be quiet. He could be calm here. No one was going to try to pick him up at a library.

And then he saw you.

You were browsing the shelves, pulling a book out and reading the back. You had five in your arms already, and here was number six. You tilted your head, opening it up with one hand, reading the introduction. Jungkook could see how deft your fingers were with that single action. You were wearing a short-sleeved white crop top and high-waisted baggy black jeans with colorful patches on them. They looked sewn on, as if you had done it yourself.

He stared at you through the bookshelves.

You had the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Lips that looked so soft they seemed unreal. Hair that cascaded down your shoulders, a little messy and not quite done. For some reason, you holding that book was such a beautiful action that he couldn’t look away, staring at your one hand spreading open the pages, tongue tucked in your cheek as you considered it. You nodded to yourself and began to walk out the aisle.

His eyes followed you.

From then on, Jungkook noticed you every time you appeared. Always holding over five books, returning them and getting more. Usually in a crop top and high-waisted jeans. Sometimes with a black denim jacket if it was chilly at night. Jungkook was at the library all the time and it seemed like so were you. He didn’t try to talk to you, but he did always stare at you, watching your movements. Jungkook was unaware that this was how a lot of people saw him and probably the reason why so many people tried to talk to him and ask for his number.

He wanted to ask you for your number, but he was too shy.

One time, you were reading and walking. This particular time, Jungkook hadn’t noticed you until it was too late and you bumped into him. He could smell you suddenly, the scent of peaches and honey. It must have been your perfume. You looked up to him and bowed apologetically, wordless.

His ears burned hot and his jaw trembled, almost blurting out an apology.

You turned away, continuing your reading.

Peaches and honey.

Jungkook wanted to say something to you. He really did. For three months, he tried to muster up the courage to say something. But you weren’t supposed to talk in a library. And what was he supposed to say? He didn’t know you. He wasn’t sure if you had anything in common other than books. You read lots of things. Crime thrillers. Sci-fi. Fantasy. Autobiographies. He noticed you never went into the romance section though.

He wondered why that was.

The next time Jungkook interacted with you, he had been reaching for a title at the front. The library put the newest releases here and one of the covers had caught his eye. And all of a sudden, your hand was reaching out too and his fingers touched yours.

You jerked your hand back, bowing apologetically, moving away.

He wanted to run after you and tell you that you could have it, but you strode into the library quickly and then you were gone, crop top and all. Jungkook stared at his hand, remembering that brief moment of your fingertips brushing against his skin, peaches and honey filling his nose as you neared.

The weeks dragged on.

It was getting colder and you wore the denim jacket a lot now. Sometimes you wore a fuzzy cropped sweater. One time, it was pink and tight, molding to your breasts. Your black jeans were tight too, shaped to your perfect ass and thighs. Plump and juicy.

They would look nice in his hands.

He walked past you on purpose that time. A little close, so he could smell the peaches and honey.

That time, Jungkook had gone home with an armful of books, dumped them on his bed, then dumped himself on the bed, shoving his pants down and stroking himself to climax, the scent of peaches and honey haunting him.

Another time, you were sitting on the ground, thighs spread, on your knees. A tall pile of ten books, tapping your cheek with one finger as your other hand shuffled through them, apparently trying to decide which ones to check out. Jungkook’s eyes went wide. He was watching you above the books, a full shelf between you and him. From this angle, he was looking down at you.

Staring down your V-neck white sweater, at the swell of your breasts, a silver necklace trapped between them. He only had a good view because he was looking at you from above. You reached between your tits and plucked the pendant out from your cleavage, a silver feather.

Jungkook had never gotten hard at the fucking library before, but his cock swelled and tented in his sweatpants instantly.

He couldn’t function, watching you on your knees, curve of your breasts on full display. Finally, you seemed to decide and got up, sighing softly as you put some of the books back. You moved out of the aisle, hoisting the ones you had chosen. Jungkook jerked his head away, realizing he was staring at you too much. And it was creepy, so he should stop.

Once he was home, he couldn’t and didn’t need to stop himself. He still remembered the peach and honey perfume. He wanted that peach and honey to cling to his clothes, stay on his sheets, invade his nose. Wanted your skin on his, wanted your body on top of him.

It got quite cold at some point, and you wore cropped hoodies now, the front tucked into tight black jeans. Still checking out books at the local library, a fuzzy pink bag strapped to your back with a cute bunny character on it.

Had that much time passed? Jungkook couldn’t believe it.

He still remembered the peaches and honey. He tried not to stare at you too much, because he knew it was getting too creepy and, now, he was jacking off to memories of your eyes and lips, thinking about that one time your fingertips brushed his skin.

He seemed frozen at the shelf, zoning out, contemplating if he should look up or not. Then the peaches and honey were right beside him. He could smell it, see your black sneakers with the pink laces. They matched your bag.

Your fingertips brushed against his right hand, plucking out the book beside it.

Jungkook started and whipped his head up, long black hair covering one of his shaking brown eyes.

You jumped a little as well, not expecting his reaction. Of course, you didn’t. He tried to calm his nervousness. Just open your mouth, Jungkook, he scolded himself. Apologize for scaring her.

You were holding your phone in one hand. It had a black case with a grinning smiley face with devil horns. You tucked the book in the crook of your arm and swiped at your phone, and then turned the screen to face him.

Sorry.

It was in your notes app.

He stared at the word. Then looked back up at you. You nodded, pointing to the screen.

He lowered his hand and fumbled for his phone, hastily typing into it and turning it around to show you.

No, it’s my fault. I’m sorry.

You smiled at him.

Jungkook thought he was going to die.

You typed quickly and flashed the screen at him.

I’m using my phone because we shouldn’t talk in a library.

Jungkook typed fast too to give you his reply.

That makes a lot of sense. You’re smart.

You beamed at him. Jungkook thought he was ascending to heaven. You typed eagerly, as if you couldn’t wait to tell him what next.

I see you at the library all the time. What’s your name?

Jungkook was pretty sure he was dead and in heaven already, seeing that response. You noticed him. Did you notice him as much as he noticed you? His fingers shook as he typed his answer.

Jeon Jungkook.

His lower lip trembled slightly as he added one more question.

What’s yours?

For some reason, these face-to-face text conversations did not bother him as much as a real chat. After that, you two exchanged small talk like this. Usually just a greeting in text before going on your way. You didn’t ask him for his number, not even to send texts. You always used the notes app, always in person, and it was short and sweet.

One day, he found some bravery somehow.

Jungkook was a very shy person. His fingers were shaking so much that he dropped his phone. You had bent down to pick it up, reading the question he wanted to ask.

I want to hear your voice.

You tilted your head, holding his phone out. He bit his lip and took it, placing it against his chest, somewhat ashamed for asking. Your hand suddenly appeared, your phone in his vision.

Why?

He lifted his head, looking at you. You shrugged, as if to add, does it matter? He typed slowly, inhaling deeply as he turned his phone around.

I’m curious.

Your eyes flickered down, reading it. You were close to him. He could smell the peaches and honey of your perfume. Wearing a cropped purple sweater with tight dark blue jeans and purple sneakers with white laces. The same pink fuzzy bag with the bunny character.

You leaned forward and Jungkook’s eyes widened, suddenly feeling your breath on his ear. Soft, warm exhales. His entire body shivered and tingled. His cock jerked his sweatpants, thankfully black and baggy enough that hopefully you wouldn’t notice. His breathing shallowed, wafting against your neck.

From this angle, he could see your phone in your hand with the little devil emote on the case.

You pulled back, blinking slowly. A small smile formed on your lips.

His cock swelled. That was not an innocent smile.

You lifted your phone.

Next time, I’ll have something for you.

The next time, you held your phone out to his. There was an app called QuickShare that allowed your phones to exchange files. You both pressed the button and Jungkook waited as the file downloaded. You held up your earbuds and pointed to him, as if to ask, do you have headphones?

Jungkook nodded, fishing out his earbuds and tucking them in his ears.

The file finished downloading and Jungkook held up his phone.

You smiled at him and gestured to him to play it.

Jungkook turned his phone back around and played it. It was a video file, but the screen was black as it the file began. Then your voice invaded his ears.

“Hello, Jeon Jungkook.”

His heart beat fast, finally hearing your voice after all this time.

“You asked to hear my voice, so here it is. Do you like it?”

He jerked his head up and looked at you, nodding quickly. You smiled at him.

“I hope you do.” A small, pretty laugh. Jungkook liked that little laugh a lot. “I guess it’s been kind of weird only speaking through text at the library, hasn’t it?” Jungkook made eye contact with you. “But it’s been nice too. I’ve enjoyed it a lot.” Your smile was becoming less and less innocent. Not mean, but a little teasing now. “I think you’re really cute.” He felt his cheeks flush hotly. “Why do you always wear sweatpants, Jungkook?” His brows furrowed. You pointed down to his phone. He lowered his eyes.

The black screen was changing. There was rustling, and the phone was lifted.

A bed.

A bed with dark gray sheets and a black blanket with stars wrapped around you. You smiled down at the camera. Jungkook’s eyes widened. Your lips opened, speaking softly, but clearly.

“You shouldn’t wear sweatpants, Jungkook. It doesn’t hide your erections very well.”

The blanket fell down your shoulders and Jungkook nearly dropped his phone. His cock instantly swelled. He jerked his head up from his phone, to your arched eyebrow and smirk, then back to his phone.

Staring at your naked body, tits out and nipples hard. Thighs pressed together, hands resting on them.

You tilted your head at the camera, giving him a similar expression to the one you had right now. He gawked, unable to look away.

“I wonder if you’re hard now, Jungkook,” the you in the video murmured. He was. Oh, fuck, he was. “Is it me?” Yes. It was you. Fuck. “I tried to see by getting close to you and breathing on your ear last time. You got hard because of it. I think.” He did. Fuck. He did. “I wonder why.”

You spread your legs and Jungkook gasped, staring at the space between your thighs, your glistening pussy barely visible. You leaned forward, breasts hanging down as you neared the camera, a small, smug smile on your lips.

“I wonder,” you whispered to the camera. “How do you feel about this, Jungkook?”

You flicked your phone with a finger, turning the screen to black again. Jungkook thought it was over. But there were still a few seconds left. Then all of a sudden, your moan filled his ears, breathy and erotic.

“Jungkoooooook….”

The video ended.

Holy shit.

Oh my God.

What just happened?

Oh my God.

Peaches and honey. All of a sudden, peaches and honey, close to him. Your body. Your currently clothed body, but he knew what you looked like naked now. I know what you look like naked! Jungkook backed up and you followed, all the way until his back hit the bookshelf. He made a small squeak, but your hand suddenly came up, finger pressed against his lips. His eyes rose, locking with yours.

You shook your head, placing your other hand by your lips and making a gesture to zip them.

You were touching him.

Oh my God.

You were touching him.

Your other hand lowered from your mouth. Lowered. Hovered over his hips. Waited. His eyes stared into yours. You removed your finger from his lips. Seemed to think better of it. Backed up a little. But his hand shot out, grabbing yours and pressing it to his crotch.

You studied him carefully. Jungkook sunk his teeth into his lower lip and chewed slowly. He didn’t know if this was right, but you showed him your naked body! You filmed it. And gave him the video file. You must know. You must know what you’re doing to him.

He lifted his hips a little into your hand, pressing his stiff length into your palm. Your fingers curled around it slowly, one by one. Not speaking. Wordless. He reached up to the strings of your black hoodie and played with them, breathing quietly but heavily, opening his mouth. You lifted your other hand and pressed your fingertip to your lips. He nodded.

Jungkook began to roll his hips into your palm. You didn’t move away. In fact, you held firm, maintaining your solid grip on his hard dick through his gray sweatpants. In the fucking library. He was humping your fucking hand in the library after you gave him a video of your naked body.

His eyes drifted down to your phone sticking out of the center pocket of your hoodie. The matter black case with the smiley face with devil horns. Jungkook looked back up. You seemed amused. Suddenly, your hand seemed to press back, meeting his hips every time he ascended, adding more friction. His shaking fingers pressed play on the video again and your voice filled his ears, speaking to him once again. Saying his name. Having your one-sided conversation. You rubbed him through his sweatpants in the back aisle of the library and he was getting close, close, your voice teasing him, but your current self completely silent, only giving him that slight smile.

Holy shit, Jungkook was going to explode in his underwear like a teenager.

You leaned in as the video moaned in his ears and he almost moaned, the sound dying in his throat as you hovered over him. You tilted your head, curving around his. Your hand stopped around his cock, squeezing him tight.

Thank God.

He was seconds away from completely embarrassing himself.

You reached up and took one of his earbuds out of his ear, your warm breathing tickling his earlobe. Lowered your hand and placed the earbud in his, tucking it safely before removing your hand from his sweatpants. Jungkook shuddered, gasping your name involuntarily. The first word he had ever spoken to you in person. The scent of peach and honey lingered around his nose.

Your murmured one word into his ear.

The first word you had ever spoken to him in person.

“Jungkook.”

His name.

You backed up, smiling gently. Backed up, turning away, leaving him there in the back of the library, clutching his phone, underwear soaked with pre-cum, now in possession of a video of you, naked.

-

Now Jungkook was in his bedroom.

Camera app open.

You didn’t ask for a video. You didn’t ask for anything, actually. You just gave, so he wanted to give you something back. Jungkook wasn’t the kind of guy to only give a little. He gave a lot. He always did. That was how he was. He knew what he wanted to do. He knew what he was going to do.

This has to be the craziest thing I’ve ever done.

Six months ago, if you told Jeon Jungkook that he was about to film himself jacking off to give said video to a young woman he met at the public library who had only said one fucking word to him the whole time they saw each other in person, the one fucking word being his name, Jungkook would have told you that you were insane and needed to see a doctor.

He reached over and pressed record.

Unlike you, Jungkook didn’t start off with a black screen. He started off with his face and bare torso, part of his gray sweatpants showing. Sitting on the edge of his bed, even remembering things like picking out his nicer black sheets and making sure he had picked up after himself. He wore the lighter gray sweatpants so his body would stand out amongst the black. The obvious center of attention. Jungkook nervously ran a hand through his long black hair, curly from the shower earlier. Lifted his dark brown eyes to stare straight into the camera. Pink lips quivering as he spoke your name.

“Hey.”

A small anxious smile that he couldn’t help.

“Ah… If you think this is weird, you can delete this right now and not watch it…” Jungkook swallowed, dropping his hand. He inhaled a long breath, trying to calm his nerves. “But… I…”

He looked straight into the camera, not at his reflection.

“I replay your video all the time.”

His heart was racing in his chest. He could feel it galloping like a damn racehorse.

“I can’t help it.”

The images came back, memorized now, but the reason he had replayed it all those times before was to hear your voice, over and over, saying his name. Moaning his name at the very end.

“What do you do after?” Jungkook breathed your name, softly, letting it fall from his lips. Said it again, forming the syllables with desire. “I’m so curious. Will you tell me sometime?” There was no way Jungkook could say this shit at the fucking library. But this wasn’t the library. This was his bedroom. He didn’t have to give this to you.

But he was going to.

“Will you show me, sometime?” Thump. “I’d love to watch.”

His fingers began to trail down his chest. Jungkook wasn’t actively thinking about it. He was imagining you listening, knowing his voice would fill your ears, his voice now smokey with lust and desire, several octaves lower than his usual tone. He couldn’t help it.

“Will you let me watch?”

His eyes shifted to the screen, watching his fingertips brush the waistband of his gray sweatpants, slipping under. He had prepared, practiced earlier, knowing the composition was correct. Making sure you would be able to see. He pushed them down, past his v-line. Thump. Licked his lips, stared into the camera again.

“Will you let me touch?” Jungkook breathed, black strands shadowing his left eye, lashes lowering as he pulled his hard cock out of his sweatpants.

His heart ricocheted in his chest. He wrapped his hand around it, moaning softly, feeling his hot, taut skin. Stroked slowly, staring into the lens. Jungkook already knew what he looked like. Muscles on his right arm rippling, black tattoos dancing on his tan skin. The lust built up inside him like a storm, ramping up and up, and he was swept up by the winds, tipping his head back a little as he stroked himself, whimpering out your name.

“Do you know how good you smell?” Jungkook panted out. “You smell like peaches and honey. It must be your perfume. It’s so nice. I wish I could smell it more. I wish I could stand next to you and breathe it in.” He was rambling, but it was genuine, so he didn’t try to stop himself. He didn’t want this to seem fake. He didn’t want you to think he was trying to play you. “I want it all over my clothes. I want it on my skin, your peaches and honey.”

Faster, harder, pre-cum leaking out and dripping down, adding to the pleasure every time his fingers closed around the throbbing head. His left hand reached back to support himself as he leaned back, staring at the camera with half-lidded eyes, his toned chest shuddering, sweatpants halfway down his thighs, his right hand furiously jacking himself off.

“I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable,” Jungkook gasped out, eyelids fluttering. “But I can’t help it. I really want you. It’s not fair how pretty you are.” He exhaled hard, heart beating fast. “And you gave me that video. All I wanted was to hear your voice.”

He threw his head back, nearing the end.

“You let me see your body.” His words were becoming moans, breathless with longing. “You let me see so much. You want me to want you.”

Jungkook lowered his head, catching himself in the phone screen, black hair all over his face, mouth open, his sharp jawline tense with his approaching climax.

“And I do. Fuck, I want you so fucking bad.”

His eyes shifted to the lens.

“And I’m going to cum. Thinking about you.”

Jungkook sucked in a breath and gasped out your name, his cock jerking in his hand, shooting white strings down his fingers, splattering onto his sweatpants, creating a pool of white. He had made sure to wait a couple days to let it build up so he could give you a good show. His orgasm spilled out of him, his torso quivering, enveloped with pleasure riding through him in waves. Slowly, he smeared it up and down his length, heightening the ecstasy. His chest was trembling, slowly coming down. Jungkook took his own cum and rubbed it on the sensitive head, whimpering softly at the spikes of pleasure it caused.

His lips formed your name once again, a low moan.

Held up his right hand, covered in his cum.

Reached over with his left and stopped the recording.

-

Jungkook had to wait a while to give it to you.

Holidays and all that. Then he got busy with work, but eventually he was back at the public library again, looking for you. The sinful video was saved on his phone, in a locked folder, buried in his photo gallery of family photos and pictures with his friends.

He looked for you, couldn’t find you.

Until one day Jungkook spied you at the check-in counter, handing the librarian your books. You had maybe ten or twelve, and the librarian checked them in one by one, having small talk with you. You seemed familiar with them. Of course, you were. You read so much. Not many people visited the library as often as you. Maybe himself.

You were wearing baggy black jeans with colorful sewn on patches, as if you had done it yourself. A cropped white puffer jacket to keep you warm. You nodded and smiled at the librarian before turning around to go into the main part of the library. A loose black crop-top with the slightest sliver of midriff showing, instantly reminding Jungkook of what you looked like without clothes on.

Your eyes found his.

You smiled at him.

Jungkook nearly dropped his phone. He probably looked ridiculous, wearing light gray sweatpants and a white hoodie, hood pulled up with his black hair sticking out of the sides. But he wore the gray sweatpants on purpose. At least, every time he came to the library.

He held up his phone with shaking hands.

You began to walk, but not quite towards him. Your eyes shifted and he followed, a little distance behind, slowly realizing where you were going. The same place you two were when you gave him the first video. The back of the library, where the older encyclopedias were. No one went there. The first time, Jungkook didn’t even think about it when you gestured him there to give him the video.

Now, he understood why.

He turned the corner and you were standing at the end of the aisle, next to the wall. Waved at him kindly. There was no way anyone could suspect you gave him a video of your naked body after saying a single word to him in person. Jungkook began to walk towards you, step by step. He didn’t have to give you the video. He had filmed another one of just his voice having an awkward one-sided conversation with himself.

You pulled out your phone with the little devil emote on the case.

Took out your earbuds, tucked them in your cute ears.

That smile, turning slightly less innocent now as Jungkook neared.

He held up his phone, pointing to the QuickShare app. You nodded, loaded it up. He stopped right in front of you and pressed the ‘send file’ button. Not the video of only his voice. The other one. His heart was beating fast, so fast. It began to download. The percentage ticking up. Thirty. Fifty. Eighty.

He felt a tap on his forearm.

Jungkook jerked his head up, staring into your eyes.

You gave him a concerned look, tilting your head. Wordlessly asking, are you okay?

He chewed on his lip and nodded slowly. Took another step towards you so he could smell it. The peaches and honey, wafting all over you, the sweet perfume. Now you two were close, so close. You smiled and patted his arm once again, reassuringly. You did not seem bothered by the closeness.

The file finished downloading.

Jungkook reached over to your phone and touched the screen. You tipped your hand to let him access the video file from the top menu. Your eyebrows shot up as you saw the beginning frame of the video, him shirtless. Jungkook swallowed hard next to you.

Pressed play.

He didn’t watch. Couldn’t really. He had re-watched it already, over and over, wondering if it was okay. Too little? Too much? Too forward? Too crazy? Jungkook stared at the top of your head, chewing his lip raw with anxiousness. Oh, shit, what if you ran and never spoke to him again? What If you thought he was super creepy? He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have given you that video. What was he thinking?

He felt you lean against his chest, breathing shallowly, your free hand gripping his white hoodie.

Jungkook’s eyes widened, finally looking down. You were watching him masturbate, not looking away, pressing yourself against his chest. His cock swelled at your closeness and the embarrassment of seeing himself come undone in that tiny screen in your hands, clutching your phone tightly.

You pressed your body against his, harder, and his hands automatically came up to hold your elbows, steadying you. He planted his feet so he wouldn’t tip over. Your hips touched his. Oh fuck. The front of your jeans rolled into the crotch of his sweatpants.

Oh, fuck.

Jungkook sucked in a breath as you began to dry hump him in the fucking public library, watching a video of him jacking off that he willingly gave you, your soft gasps against his chest, eyes glued to the screen, peaches and honey invading his nose. He didn’t make a sound, holding you close, his hard cock rubbing against the inside of his underwear, a patch of wetness forming as you provided the friction.

You lifted the phone slightly so it was at his shoulder, next to his head, eyes still on the screen, your breath suddenly on his neck and it took everything in Jungkook not to moan, because your breath was so warm and erotic, a feathery whimper gracing his ears as you watched him orgasm.

The video ended.

Your eyes shifted to his face.

Pupils dilated, soaked with lust.

You kissed him.

Full, on the mouth, those soft, soft lips pressed to his, inhaling him deeply. He had worn his nice cologne today, a mix of musky woods and sea breeze, and maybe you’d notice, maybe you’d want it too, on your clothes and on your skin. It seemed like it, the way you pressed against him so urgently, nestling yourself in his arms.

He drowned in the kiss, a kiss of peaches and honey.

You backed up, but only a centimeter, eyes slowly opening. He gazed into your eyes. He probably had the same expression. Uninhibited desire and longing.

“Do you… want to go somewhere that’s not the fucking library so we can talk?” you whispered against his lips quietly. Your tone was heavy with lust.

He did. Preferably somewhere with a bed.

“Yeah…”

You lowered your phone, the little devil smiling at him before it disappeared in your pocket.

Jungkook grabbed your hand. Held it tight. Took one step, then another, with you.

You smiled at him.

Not so innocent.

--

masterpost

[my-emotional-self]

The Fantasy

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Smut

Request: Idk if you’re still taking requests or not, but I have an idea of Chris’ girlfriend surprising him on the set of Infinity War (she’s a singer who’s just come off a world tour and they haven’t seen each other in months) and she sees him in the Cap America uniform and that beard…and well, some hot wall fucking smut in Chris’ trailer ensues

Requested By: Anonymous

It was hard being away from Chris, but all that was about to change.  You had just finished your world which you had been gone for nearly a year performing.  During that time, you started to realize a few things.  Calling up your manager, you told her that you would be taking a good year off before recording your new album.  Chris was also stuck filming back to back Avenger movies during the same time as your tour.  In a way, it worked out as you were both kept busy, but it sucked not being able to see him as much.  

But now your tour was over and you were heading to his set to surprise him.  He still had a few more weeks left of filming and you were giddy with excitement as the town car dropped you off at the security check in.

The security officer let you in and told you where to find Chris; the smile ever present on your face as you walked around with a special pass hanging around your neck.  

The set was massive and you were awestruck, taking everything in.  Naturally you had been on a few of Chris’ movie sets in the past, but nothing this extravagant.  

“Y/N?” a voice called out; a voice so familiar to your ears and you smiled, turning around to face Chris. “What are you doing here?”  He raced to where you were standing, grabbing you in his arms and twirling you around.  His lips embraced yours in a kiss so sweet, you were happy he was holding you up as you were sure your knees would grow weak.  

“I wanted to surprise you! I didn’t want to wait any longer to see you,” you confessed as he placed you back down, your feet hitting the concrete.

Your eyes traveled down his form and you noticed he was wearing his ever popular Captain America suit. Immediately at the sight of him in his suit, your core grew wet and you held back a whimper.  To be honest, you had told him that you’ve fantasized about having sex with him while in his uniform.  His suit, along with his beard had your pussy clenching with desire.  

Chris noticed the look in your eyes; the darkness that held nothing but pure lust as your eyes roamed his body.  He knew exactly what you were thinking as he remembered your confession from long ago. This had been the first time you had seen him with his Captain America suit on and he planned on fulfilling that fantasy.  

He leaned closer to you, whispering in your ear, “Let’s go back to my trailer.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the low yet deep whisper of his voice.  You quickly nodded your head as he took your hand in his.  Making quick work of his long strides, you had to jog to keep up to him but you didn’t mind one bit as you got a good look at his perky ass in the uniform.  

He opened the trailer door for you and before you could even look around to admire such an expanse space, he had you pinned to the wall as his lips devoured yours.  The searing kiss took your breath away as your arms were pinned above your head with his left hand as his right hand trailed down your body.  His hand cupped your sex and you moaned into his mouth, bucking your hips into his hand.

He could feel the heat coming from your core as he began to nip and lick at your neck, earning more gasps and beautiful noises coming from you.  

Parting your legs for him, his hand moved into the waistband of your leggings and panties; a growl emanating from him as he felt how turned on you already were.  

Taking his left hand from your wrist, he quickly shed you of your leggings and panties as he made quick work to undo the flap around his crotch.  You remembered him telling you at one point that his suit was a full one-piece that took a long time to get in and out of, so they designed a flap to help him go to the bathroom with long days on set.  

“Put your hands on my shoulders,” Chris demanded and you happily obliged.  He wrapped his hands around your thighs and you jumped up; your legs hugging his waist.  “Hold on baby girl.”

In one quick thrust he was inside of you; both of you moaning in pleasure.  It had been far too long without him and your body needed to adjust to his size.  

Your teeth latched to his lower lip, nibbling gently earning a growl from him as he bucked into you. “Oh god yes!” you cried out as he rutted into you fervently.  Your arms laced around his neck as you held on for dear life.  

Chris’ hand went to your hair, pulling it backwards so your neck was exposed to him.  He suckled on your sweet spot, your breath hitching in your throat.  His hips were relentless, pushing you harder into the wall but you didn’t care.  This was what you wanted, what you needed after months of not seeing him.  

“Have you been a good girl for me?” Chris mewled into your ear as he slowed his pace.  

It was hard, but you had relented from using any toys or even your fingers while away from Chris. “Yes, yes I promise.”

His tempo picked back up and you cried out, needing your release.  Angling you a bit higher, the tip of his cock began to brush at your g-spot. “Right there right there yes yes yes YES!” you cried out, your body stiffening as your orgasm rippled through you. Your walls clenched around him so tightly it was nearly impossible for Chris to move inside of you.  

Chris grunted as his hips stilled, chasing your own orgasm with his.  His forehead was pressed against yours; your breaths mingling together as you both came down from your high, embraced in each other’s arms.  

[whoopsieintheuniverse]

Wash Day

Illumi x (gender neutral) reader

Warnings: Awkwardness, Illumi being Illumi

In one of the rare moments of him being out of his room, Milluki was almost ran over by his big brother, Illumi.

“Illu-nii? What are you doing?” Milluki asked.

Illumi stopped and turned on his heel. Milluki noted the stack of hair care products in his arms. Combs, brushes, conditioner, shampoos, and clips were piled high and threatened to spill on the floor.

Illumi blinked and regarded his brother, slightly startled that Milluki was out of his room.

“It’s my wash day. Y/N is washing my hair.”

Milluki scrunched his nose.

“Y/N?” The new butler? Why do you want a butler to wash your hair?” Milluki asked. Illumi shrugged and readjusted his grip on his supplies before walking away.

The Butler’s Quarters was as busy as it normally was. Members of staff came and went on errands, and Y/N noted the rhythmic creaks of the doors as they opened and shut throughout the building. Advancing from an apprentice to a full-fledged butler was a task not many were able to accomplish, and Y/N couldn’t deny the swell of pride in their chest that grew with each passing hour. Y/N was just on their way to make their mid-day rounds when the phone rang. Each butler in the main room looked up on high alert as Gotoh answered the phone; a call from the main house usually meant an immediate order from the Zoldyck family. Y/N held their breath as Gotoh put the phone to his ear.

“Gotoh speaking. Yes, sir. Yes. No, sir, I don’t think that will be a problem at all. I will send them immediately. Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Y/N watched as the phone reconnected with the hook. They turned on their heel to leave, but was stopped by Gotoh’s voice.

“Stop right there. Y/N, you’re needed in the main house. I suggest you hurry,” Gotoh said.

Y/N frowned. Only butlers with seniority were allowed to enter and work in the main house. Gotoh noticed the younger butler’s hesitance and sighed.

“You’ll need to get a move on. I wouldn’t want to keep the family waiting,” Gotoh said.

“Yes, sir! I’m just wondering.... did I do something wrong? Which family member called for me?” Y/N asked. Y/N felt a lump in their throat form as Gotoh’s lips form a stern line across his face.

“Y/N. Please hurry to the main house. Master Illumi is waiting.”

................................................................................................................................

Y/N took a breath as they came to the large door of the main house of the Zoldyck estate. The door loomed over them -- tall, dark, and solid -- and Y/N wondered about the inhabitants. As a new butler, Y/N had never seen their employers, but the power and reputation of the Zoldyck name was enough to instill fear and respect into anyone. Taking another breath, Y/N set their jaw and reached out ang grasped the door knocker.

Sweat beaded down Y/N’s brow as the door opened. The interior was dark, and hesitantly, Y/N stepped in. The foyer was massive, with walls arching and towering over Y/N as they walked further into the house.

“Hello? Master Zoldyck? It’s Y/N. I heard you called for me,” Y/N called out. Footsteps tapped from down the hallway. Y/N froze in their spot; out of the shadows, the hem of a gown grazed the floor. Y/N dropped their gaze to the floor.

“Illumi, dear, are you sure this is the one? They’re just a butler. I’m sure whatever you want can be done without them complicating matters.”

Y/N felt themselves flinch a little at the voice. They had never seen the Zoldyck matriarch, but Y/N had definitely heard stories from their time as an apprentice. It was never a good idea to look at Kikyo without invitation.

“Yes, mother, I’m quite sure.” Y/N closed their eyes. The voice was unmistakable: Illumi Zoldyck. Y/N clenched their fists; what could they have done to attract the attention of the Zoldyck’s oldest son? Y/ ground their teeth, racking their brain through the months of training they had undergone. Had they messed up anywhere? Forgotten manners? Had they overstepped some boundary, crossed some line? Y/N’s thoughts were interrupted by a finger on their chin.

“You’ll look when I’m speaking to you. Did you even hear me?” Illumi asked.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir!” Y/N said, bowing low. They heard a scoff above them.

“Enough of that. Follow me to the washroom.” With that, Y/N watched as Illumi turned on his heel with a swish of hair.

................................................................................................................................

The washroom that Illumi lead Y/N to was massive. Y/N stood and marveled at the design: the centerpiece was a bathtub set deep into the floor, flanked with towels and a glass pitcher. Marble countertops held oils and soaps, and a soft light from overhead bathed the bathroom in a soft, golden glow. As Y/N stood back and took in the sight, their thoughts were interrupted by the sound of running water.

“Are you done looking? I suppose I could wait a little longer, but I am getting impatient,” Illumi said. Y/N watched as he started to unlace his shirt, and quickly looked down as Illumi’s clothes started falling to the floor. Y/N was frozen in place as they heard water slosh in the bathtub.

“On the counter, there’s shampoo and a conditioning oil. Bring it over here.”

“I’m sorry, sir....what exactly am I doing here?”

Illumi turned and looked over his shoulder, a small frown etched on his face.

“Well, at the moment, you’re standing there. You should be bringing the shampoo and conditioning oil, though,” Illumi stated.

Y/N fumbled over to the counter and grabbed the supplies before creeping slowly to the bathtub.

“And now, sir?” they asked.

Illumi said nothing, opting to slide closer to the edge of the tub. One of his arms draped over the side, and the other came up gather his hair in his grip. Y/N watched as Illumi wrung his hair out before tossing it over the edge.

“There you are. You’ll want to condition it first, rinse with cold water, then you can shampoo it,” Illumi said.

Y/N looked at Illumi as if he had gone mad.

Illumi turned around, noticing that Y/N had not moved. He tilted his head and regarded them, the corners of his mouth pulling once again pulling downwards.

“What’s the problem now?” Illumi asked.

Y/N folded their arms across their chest and thrust their chin in the air.

“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think this is appropriate. I don’t know why I’m here, and I really don’t know why I’m helping you bathe. I’d like to go, now, sir,” Y/N said.

“I don’t understand what the problem is,” Illumi hummed. “Mother and Father always bathe together.”

“I- Sir! Master and Mistress Zoldyck are married.”

“Yes, they are. What is your point?”

Y/N huffed and ran a hand through their hair.

“Sir. We’re not married.”

Illumi sunk down further into the bath, hair still cascading over the side.

“I’m aware we aren’t married yet, but practicing shouldn’t hurt. Now, if you’re done, I would like my hair washed.”

Y/N shook their head and made their way closer to Illumi. They took his hair in their hands and worked their fingers through it. Then, Y/N took the conditioner and started to massage it into the ends Illumi’s hair. With each pass of Y/N’s hand, Illumi’s body seemed to relax further into the water. Soon, Illumi’s eyes slipped closed, and Y/N worked in silence for about five minutes before their fingers froze on Illumi’s head.

Illumi opened his eyes and huffed.

“Y/N. Why did you stop?” Illumi asked.

Y/N sat frozen; hands still tangled in Illumi’s mane.

“Sir...did you say we weren’t married ‘yet’?”

“Yes. Are you still on that? I thought I made myself perfectly clear. This is all practice for when I do marry you. I wanted to see how it was to bathe with another person, and I have to say, besides you stopping all the time, it isn’t a bad experience. This will probably be a regular occurrence when we’re wed,” Illumi explained.

Y/N retracted their hands and stood up.

“Master Zoldyck, I am a butler! It is my honor to serve you and your family, but this is an entirely different service you’re talking about. I’m not even permitted to have personal relationships per your family’s instructions, so I’m sorry, sir, but-”

“That’s enough,” Illumi interrupted. “I’m courting you and I plan on marrying you. That’s final. Mother’s been hounding me for ages to find a partner. You’ve already proven yourself to be strong enough, and I’m sure with more training you’ll be decent enough as far as Zoldyck standards are. You also don’t piss me off, which is important.”

“But Master Zol-”

Illumi put up a hand to silence Y/N and continued.

“As far as that silly little matter of you being a butler and not allowed relationships, it’s no problem. Don’t even worry about it. I’m taking care of it all, and that includes telling Mother and Father. All you need to worry about is me, really. Now,” Illumi said as he motioned toward the other side of the bath, “Go get the pitcher. I need to rinse.”

Part Two Here: courting-customs

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[kaidsos]

Exposure || Hitoshi Shinso

summary :: your relationship with Shinso is exposed.

warning: cursing, smut, monoma is a bigger ass than usual, probably grammar/spelling errors

note: university!ua, aged-up, secret relationship, bsf bakugou, spanking, daddy shinso, begging, slight fluff

———————————————————————

The breeze whipped against you as you stepped out into the night. Your arms wrapping around yourself and fisting the thin material of your t-shirt. It was well past curfew, but you had grown accustom to sneaking out.

You slipped behind the building, being mindful of your steps as you moved further into the shadows. No lights were shining through the windows as the other students had long since gone to bed. Despite the full moon hanging high in the sky, there was nothing to illuminate the path and you had no choice but to rely on muscle memory.

Then there was a soft wisp of fabric and a tentative touch to your waist. Warm fingers grazed the skin where your shirt had bunched up and you relaxed into the familiar sensation.

"There's my kitten."

Shinso dug his fingertips into your sides as he pulled you flush against his chest. His head dipping until his face was tucked into your neck. "I was worried you didn't get my message."

"My phone died before I could reply." You mumbled as you twisted in his grasp. "I didn't want to make you wait too long."

Your hands lifted to his waist, thumbs hooking in the band of his UA sweatpants. The dark patches beneath his eyes hadn't worsened since you saw him last and you knew he’d been overworking himself. A frown etched onto your features as you pressed closer to him.

"Stop pouting," he murmured as he dropped his head to rest on yours. "I've missed you."

With exams quickly approaching you hadn’t been able to see each other through the week. Your days consumed with class or training while your nights were spent studying and preferably rest. That was something your boyfriend had clearly missed out on.

"I missed you so much." You sighed, leaning into his touch.

Keeping your relationship quiet had been relatively easy before. You had slipped away with one another at any given chance and when the weeks were long you had always had the weekends!

Until you didn’t.

His training with Aizawa only became more time consuming and you had fully immersed yourself into studies. With the weekend coming to an end you couldn’t help but wonder if the secret was worth it.

It had made sense in the beginning. With a best friend like Katsuki Bakugou it was a bit difficult to attract romantic attention. He was protective and moody and he already disliked the sly general studies student.

Shinso had been an outcast among his peers. It had improved after the first Sports Festival, though not everyone had been swayed. You heard the whispers that followed him, noticed how eyes would linger on his broad form as he sulked down the halls. When the words didn't cut deep enough, some got bold enough to step up and if they were foolish enough to challenge him—

"Kitty," He said lowly, hand lifting to wrap around your throat in an attempt to pull your attention back to him. "What's going on in that mind of yours?"

You let out a soft gum as you met his gaze. “Would you be happier if others knew about us?"

The thumb that had been caressing your jugular paused, his brow furrowing for a moment as his eyes narrowed. "I've never cared about others. I care about you. As long as you're mine it doesn't matter who knows."

"In other words you're leaving it up to me." You grumbled, not bothering to resist the urge to roll your eyes. A low growl pushed past his lips as he twisted you on your feet, pushing forward until your back was pressed against the cool stone. You gasped in surprise, back arching away from the cold. "Toshi—"

"You've got an attitude tonight." His hips knocked against yours as he pressed forward again, chuckling when you whimpered. “Where's your jacket, kitten?"

"I-I was in a hurry to see you and forgot it."

A lazy grin tugged at his lips and his eyes flickering over your frame before he moved away. He reached back to grasp the hoodie, pale skin catching your eyes as the material bunched above his hips.

Shinso had trained hard to get into the hero program and it showed. His frame had broadened, muscles strengthening to the point that they rippled without his intent. You had found yourself staring at him far more than you cared to admit. Whether it was in class, the commons, or across the cafeteria— he always stood out among the others.

Suddenly a ball of fabric hit you in the face, spurring you into a fit of giggles as you fumbled to keep it off the ground. You wasted no time pulling the sweatshirt over your head. It was still warm from Shinso and you inhaled deeply at his lingering scent.

When you finally met his gaze again his brow was quirked in amusement. You rolled your eyes, quickly adverted your gaze so the hood dropped to hide you from view.

Shinso slipped his hands past the hood, gripping the base of your neck and tilting your head back. "Silly kitty," he hummed, lips brushing against yours. "I didn't realize giving you my sweatshirt would have such a thrilling response."

His words did nothing to ease your embarrassment. A soft whine slid past your lips as he forced you to hold his gaze and you barely began stuttering out a response when he closed the space between you.

Your breath caught as his mouth moved against yours and he lazily rolled his tongue along the seam of your lips. When you didn't immediately part he snarled, a hand dropping to grasp your hip as he shoved a knee between your thighs. A harsh jolt of his leg caused you to inhale sharply and he took the opportunity to shove his tongue past your lips.

"Alright, kitten," he spoke into the kiss. "Time to go back inside before you get sick."

Your brow furrowed in hazy confusion, " I thought we were..."

"You have no idea how badly I want to." Shinso grumbled, mouth trailing along your jaw. "But the next time I touch you I'm not stopping until I've had my fill, and kitten, I'm starving."

His teeth sunk into your neck at his words, pulling a soft moan from you as your fingers threaded through his thick locks. Just before you were sure a mark would be left he pulled back, pressing a soft kiss to the irritated skin.

"Like I said it's getting cold and I don't want you getting sick." He placed a final searing kiss to your lips before pulling away.

•

You overslept the following morning.

It had been thundering fists against you door that had woke you up. Bakugou had called you every name but your own as you fumbled to let him inside.

"You're late, dumbass." He snapped, pushing his way into the room and plopping onto your bed.

You scoffed, but said nothing as you began racing around the room. It wasn't until you had shoved your things into a bag and started gathering your uniform that you paused.

"What the fuck!" You snapped, throwing your hands up in defeat. "I don't have a shirt."

"Wear your extra." He replied dryly, earning a glare from you.

You didn't bother hiding the roll of your eyes. "Wow, why didn't I think of that?"

"Watch it, idiot! I'm not the one who loses everything." Bakugou snarled before pushing to his feet and marching across the room. He grabbed the black sweatshirt that had been draped across the desk chair and slung it at you. "Go!"

A groan pushed past your lips as you stomped into the bathroom. You were quick to pull on the pieces of uniform you could find. There was a slight shake to your hands as you got dressed and you weren’t surprised with your abrupt morning. You fisted the fabric of the sweatshirt, lifting it to your nose and inhaling deeply before taking a final glance at yourself in the mirror.

Aizawa had very little to say about your uniform mishap. His gaze had only lingered on the black material for a moment before warning you not to make it a habit.

"I've never seen this before, Y/N." Mina chirped, reaching out to pinch the hoodie between her fingers as she flashed you a cheeky grin. "I'd have stolen it by now."

"I just got it the other night— day! I got it the other day." You nearly cringed as Mina's eyes narrowed.

"What are you looking at, extra?" Bakugou suddenly snapped, pulling your attention away.

You followed his gaze to the back of the room and locked with purple hues. Shinsou's lips quirked up for the slightest moment before looking past you to meet the explosive blond's eye. The warmth that his features held for you was nowhere in sight as he scoffed at the other male.

However, no words were spoken before the bell rang out.

The remainder of the day seemed to go by without any more incidents. You had felt an overwhelming sense of comfort wearing your boyfriend's sweatshirt. Though you would never admit it the time without him had been hard. Harder than you ever thought it would be.

You had enjoyed sneaking around, you both did, that's why it had gone on without a hitch for months. There was something about rushed touches and stolen glances that left you spinning in delight.

Before you were able to succumb to your thoughts your name was called. Your eyes trailed over the campus grounds in search of whoever had called for you and sure enough you caught sight of Kirishima waving you over.

A laugh had barely slid past your lips when you slammed into a solid frame. You let out a surprised yelp as you stumbled to the ground and landed on your bottom with a groan.

"I thought class 1A students were meant to be agile."

You didn't bother hiding the look of disdain that crossed your features as you looked up at Monoma. He had the nerve to sneer as is he hadn’t been the one to knock you off balance in the first place.

"Go screw yourself." You hissed, pushing yourself to your feet.

Before you were able to move past him he grasped your wrist. "Why don't you do us all a favor and drop out of the hero course? I think you've wasted enough of UAs time."

“Let go of me." You pulled harshly at his grip, which only tightened in response.

"Let go of you?" He feigned a moment of thought. "I'll tell you what, if you can—"

Whatever game he had been wanting to play died on his tongue as a sharp smack rang out. You were released so suddenly you nearly lost your balance.

The hand that had been holding you was in the crushing grip of Shinso, who stood tall between you and the other male. You couldn't quite catch a glimpse of his face, but the frightened gleam in Monoma's eyes told you enough.

A crowd had formed around your trio, the sudden intrusion unsurprisingly catching their interest. You instinctively shifted closer to Shinsou, who was still barring down on the stuttering blond. "W-what—"

"Stay away from things that aren't yours." Your boyfriend snarled, fingers tightening around Monoma’s wrist until it popped.

"You think she's yours?" He snapped, glancing nervously at the crowd before finally ripping his hand free. "You're delusional.”

Shinso didn't gift him with a response. Instead, he turned his focus on you and for a brief moment, you understood why Monoma had looked so frightened.

The purple-haired male easily towered over you both and his stature seemed to double in size as he held himself firmly between you. His jaw was set so tightly you were surprised his teeth didn't shatter and there was a predatory gleam to his usually passive gaze that made your chest swell in excitement.

Mistaking your observation as hesitation, Shinso held his hands by his sides. His palms turned towards you in surrender as his gaze softened, "kitten?"

The secret seemed so pointless.

Shinso had claimed you and it was as if everyone held their breath for your response. He had every bit of faith in your ability to protect yourself, but he had reacted out of instinct. You knew by the way his back stiffened beneath the curious eyes that he hadn't thought it through. He looked desperate and seraphic and you could not remember why you had kept him hidden for so long.

"Hitoshi—"

That was all it took. With a single stride he had closed the distance between you, head dipping to press his forehead against yours.

Wordlessly, he plucked the hand you had been holding protectively against you. A low rumble that could only be described as a growl vibrated from his chest as he stared down at the blooming marks. Had he really grabbed you that hard?

"Monoma?" Shinso pressed four fingers to your wrist, dangling it softly in the air as he turned on the blond with a heavy gaze.

His wide eyes flickered between you and your boyfriend before he replied. "What?"

The moment the word had left his lips his frame froze and a murmur rolled over the crowd. His shoulders had a strange slouch to them, his back was straight and his eyes were still locked with yours.

"Why are you looking at them? Look at me."

Unsurprisingly, he obeyed.

"Your quirk doesn't quite work when you can't think for yourself, does it?"

There was a humorless jape in his tone, a low rumble that shot straight to your core. His tongue clicked against his teeth as he spoke once more. "I'll make this quick. You don't look at them. Don't speak to them. Don't even allow them to cross your mind."

And it was over.

Monoma stumbled back in shock as he regained control over himself, heat flooding his cheeks as he hurried away from the crowd. You didn't bother to watch him retreat as you reached out for Shinso.

He let out a soft sigh as you grasped at his uniform blazer, turning his attention back to you. For a moment his gaze flickered down to your wrist, but this time you tugged the sleeve of his sweatshirt down.

"Can we please leave?" You asked softly, all too aware of the crowd around you.

"Of course."

•

"That's my good kitty."

Your back arched from the mattress as Shinso pressed his tongue flat against your clit and lapped at it lazily. His thumb rolled over your hip, attempting to soothe the area he had gripped when he trapped you beneath him. He ran his tongue along your slit before finally delving inside of you.

A moan tore from your throat and he pressed his palm flat again your stomach to hold you in place. Your thighs trembled as the coil in your stomach tightened, so close to bursting free if he would just—

"Hitoshi!" His name pushes past your lips as your thighs clench around his head. Your hips rocked against his face and he moaned into your heat, licking and sucking at your core.

Then he was gone.

You couldn't bite back a whine of annoyance, however, the feeling was short-lived as long fingers curled around your throat. Shinso’s broad frame hover above you, eyes heavy with lust as an almost cruel smirk twisted at his lips.

"What's my name?"

"Daddy!" You blurted out, face heating as you realized your mistake. "I'm sorry daddy, I didn't mean to!"

He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth, head shaking slowly as he held your wide gaze. "You know better kitten. I'll have to punish you."

Another whine in protest fell upon deaf ears as he pulled you up by your neck. It wasn't until the both of you were on your knees, chest to chest, that he released your throat in favor of gripping the back of your neck. "Bend over for daddy."

You did as he ordered, heart jolting in your chest as he led you to press your face against the mattress. Your back arched in an attempt to grind your ass against him, desperate for some type of friction. A low groan vibrated in his chest as his clothed cock rubbed between your soaking slit. "Take your punishment like a good kitty and daddy might let you cum."

"Look how pretty you are." He purred softly, smacking his palm down on your ass in contradiction to his tone. "That was one. Count for me."

Another harsh slap sent you forward, teeth sinking into your lips as you spoke. "Two."

"Three." Came another. You felt yourself clench at the painful pleasure, eyes screwing shut in an attempt to suppress a moan.

Shinso let out a low chuckle as he bent down to press a soft kiss to your reddening skin. "You're not meant to enjoy this, kitten."

"I'm sor— four!" You rushed out as his hand connected with your opposite cheek. Then again, "five!"

"You're fucking dripping." He murmured and for a moment you weren't sure if he was taking to you or himself. "I bet you'd cum on my cock the second I shoved it inside of you."

His fingers kneaded into your rear before smacking against you once more. You had barely gotten out the number when it broke into a moan as Shinso reached around to pinch your clit between his fingers.

"You want daddy to stretch you with his fat cock? Do you think you earned it?"

"Yes! Please daddy, I need you so bad. It's been too long!" You whimpered and despite your frazzled state, you were able to murmur the next count of his hand.

Then you felt the head of his dick at your entrance, prodding slightly as he split you over his tip. He was thick and veiny and despite the number of times he had fucked into your pussy he always seemed to stretch you just right.

You couldn't hold back your moans as he fully sheathed himself inside you, hand connecting with your ass once more before holding you in place. When he made no motion to move you whined, attempting to roll your hips back against him only to earn another smack.

"Two more for missing your count." He snarled, "don't you dare fucking move."

Another smack rang out and you whimpered, cunt clenching down around his length as you fought the urge to shift. "N-nine."

His cock jumped inside you, spurring another moan from your lips as you fisted the sheets. The final slap was loud and it stung against your raw skin. You stuttered out the final count and he pulled from you, only to slam his hip into your tailbone as he sunk deeper than before.

Shinso let out a groan, fingertips digging into your asscheeks and spreading them as he watched himself fuck into your tight heat. "I can feel how close you are. You wanna cum on daddy's cock?"

You nodded wildly as you pushed back to meet his thrusts despite your trembling legs. "Please let me cum. Please, please, please!"

His lips covered every inch of skin he could reach, sucking and biting as he shifted hips to buck deeply into you. "Cum for me, kitty."

All of your self-control vanished at his words, your body twitching against him as you finally allowed yourself to succumb. Your cunt pulsed around him, spurring curses and moans that echoed in your ears as you finally reached your peak.

Shinso shifted his hips, hitting against the sweet spot he has grown all too familiar with, spurring you into a moaning mess beneath him. "Roll over, baby— I wanna see you."

Despite the haze from your orgasm you caught the change in his tone and your brow furrowed as you rolled onto your back. He wasted no time gripping the curve of your knee, pushing it into the air to get a clear view of your sopping pussy. His other hand wrapped around his hardened length, pumping it slowly as he stared down at you.

He drug the head of his cock along your slit and he let out a low hum as he slid the tip in, only to pull it out again. You were a moaning mess by the time he sunk into you, babbling nonsense as he hit up into your sweet spot.

Shinso dipped to press his lips against you, praise spilling from his lips as his hands sought out your own. He laced your fingers together, effectively pinning your arms to the bed. Your second orgasm took you by surprise and you arched from the bed, legs tightening around his waist as heat licked up your spine.

He fucked you through it again, however, when the bliss began to fade he waste no time running slow circles against your clit. You jumped at the contact, brow furrowing as you met his gaze with a whine.

The haze you were losing yourself in had a moment of clarity as he stared down at you. His eyes were blown wide with lust, however, there was an ounce of something else you hadn't seen before. He almost looked sad—

"You're mine." Shinsou muttered breathlessly, and while it had been a statement you couldn't help but see the concern in his gaze.

"I'm yours." You whispered and moment the words left you his mouth was on yours, smothering you with a searing kiss as his languid thrusts picked up once more.

"Mine, mine, mine.” He growled, enunciating each word with a hard thrust. The fingers that were on your clit sped up in time with his hips, "come with me— fuck! Come with daddy."

You spiraled over the edge for a final time, fingers tangling in his purple locks before you pulled him into a kiss. Shinso sunk his teeth into your bottom lip as he fucked into you, chasing his own climax. He moaned into your mouth when his hips rolled against yours and hot ropes of cum covered your fluttering walls.

After a few more lazy thrusts he rocked onto his knees, reaching between you to grip the base of his cock as he slowly pulled out. He let out a groan as he watched his cum seep from your used cunt, hot and white and all his.

You were his.

"Are you okay? That was differ—"

"I love you."

Your heart leaped at his confession, eyes widening as you stared up at him. Your words were barely above a shocked whisper as you replied, "I love you too."

•

"Open the fucking door, extra!"

[valdomarx]

Untouchable

Octoberfest day 31: cursed

“Fuck! Geralt! Help!”

Geralt rolls his eyes as Jaskier comes skidding to a halt in front of him. He dreads to imagine what trouble he’s gotten himself into now.

“Something terrible has happened! I had an, umm, unfortunate encounter with a sorcerer.” He blushes, pink creeping over his cheeks. “And he put some horrible curse on me and portaled away, the bastard.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow. “Hmm.”

“And now I can’t touch anyone. Look!” Jaskier holds out a hand to stop a passerby. He goes to shake the confused man’s hand, but the moment their skin makes contact Jaskier gives a yelp of pain and leaps back.

That reaction isn’t feigned, Geralt is sure, even as the man gives them both an odd look and leaves.

“When you touch someone, does it hurt badly?”

Jaskier’s bottom lip wobbles. “It really does.”

He sighs. A lack of touch might be a mere annoyance for him, but he knows it’s more than that for Jaskier. “I’ve heard of a mage who specialises in lifting curses. But he’s all the way in Kovir, and that’s no small journey.”

Jaskier turns big, pleading eyes on him. “Please, Geralt, I’ll do anything. You have to help me.”

As if he could ever refuse him anything. “Alright,” he grumbles. “We’ll head to Kovir.”

-

At first, Jaskier appears as bright as ever. Yet as the days pass, more and more often he chews his lip in a nervous habit, and he rubs his fingers together when people come too close. He smells of anxiety and restlessness.

Each evening, once the dinner has been eaten and the sun has set, they lay out their bedrolls by the embers of the fire. The scent of anxiety is replaced by one of loneliness and Jaskier will curl in on himself, like he’s trying to make himself smaller. It’s sad, how much lesser Jaskier seems to feel without touch.

Geralt is used to being shunned, to going months without a friendly clap on the shoulder or shake of the hand. But Jaskier isn’t, and the curse is taking a toll on him. Geralt wishes he could help, that he could provide some comfort, but he knows right now all he can cause Jaskier is pain.

-

They need coin for their journey, so Geralt takes jobs along the way. He’s on a contract to clear a nest of nekkers and he has, for some unknown reason, allowed Jaskier to accompany him. Jaskier had wheedled and pleaded and in the end Geralt had found himself unable to say no.

It should be fine. A nekker nest is an easy job, and as agile and springy as the creatures are, they’ve no stamina and they’re easy to kill.

That must be why he allows his concentration to slip when he’s approaching the nest, his eyes darting to the side to check Jaskier is safe behind a rock. The momentary slip lets one of the foul little things bounce up to him and sink its teeth into his gauntlet, more of an annoyance than a real threat. He shakes it off with one hand and uses the other to cut more of the creatures down with his silver blade. His gauntlet goes flying, but no matter, he can collect that later.

He rounds on the last few of the creatures who are nickering angrily. As he circles them he sees Jaskier peeking his head over the rock and then creeping closer, trying to get a better look.

Fuck. He kills two of the nekkers quickly, but the last three have picked up on Jaskier’s scent and are eyeing him with interest. Geralt sees two leaning back on their hind legs, preparing to leap at Jaskier and cut him to shreds with their sharp claws.

He has a split second to make a decision: Grab Jaskier and risk hurting him himself, or leave him where he is and watch the creatures go for his chest. It’s no choice at all really, so Geralt sends up a quiet word of apology and grabs Jaskier firmly around the neck with his ungloved hand and shoves him out of the way.

The last two creatures leap into the air, but with their target gone they’re easy prey. Geralt cuts them down with minimal effort and turns, expecting to see Jaskier writhing on the ground in pain.

He’s not though. He’s sat in the mud with a puzzled expression on his face.

“That didn’t hurt,” he says, seemingly mystified. “Well, being thrown to the ground was not the most delightful experience, but when you touched me - it didn’t hurt.”

That is strange. Geralt had been sure he’d triggered the curse.

Jaskier gets to his feet and regards Geralt quizzically. Very carefully, he reaches out and touches his fingertip to Geralt’s bare hand. He doesn’t flinch back or gasp in pain. Instead, he takes Geralt’s entire hand in his own, and a beautiful smile blooms over his face.

“I can touch you! But how?”

Geralt stares down at their joined hands, unsure why he feels unsteady. “Witchers are immune to magic?” he guesses. “I suppose that could be -”

He’s interrupted by Jaskier throwing his arms around him and hugging him close, happy little sounds of joy and relief spilling from him. “Oh, Geralt, thank the gods, I was losing my mind.” He snuggles deeper against Geralt, rubbing his face into his neck and hanging on tight.

“Oh. Well.” It seems the only thing for Geralt to do is to hug him back, so he puts his arms around his shoulders and draws him in.

-

Jaskier keeps touching him all the rest of the day. Whenever he bumps their shoulders or grabs Geralt’s hand, he breaks out into a wide, goofy smile, like it’s novel and fun every time.

Perhaps the curse has worn off? The next traveller who passes them by, Jaskier finds an excuse to stop him and shake his hand. But the moment their hands touch, Jaskier yelps in pain.

He’s still cursed then. But he can touch Geralt. Strange.

And Geralt can’t help but indulge him, even though he knows Jaskier is touching him because he’s the only option, not because he really wants to. He reminds himself that Jaskier would surely rather be off with some pretty lady, not grasping at a crotchety witcher for comfort.

But still, every time Jaskier brushes their hands together and smiles, he feels a little wobbly inside.

-

That night, he watches as once again Jaskier curls in on himself, small and sad by the fire. The further north they travel, the colder the weather grows, and the more distressed Jaskier becomes.

“Hey.” He keeps his voice soft, and Jaskier turns to look at him with big, wide eyes. “Join me?” He lifts a corner of his bedroll and waves him over; an offer, not a command.

Jaskier immediately scurries over and burrows into him, all hands and hot breath and happy murmurs. He settles into Geralt’s chest with a contented sigh, and Geralt wraps his arms carefully around him.

This, at least, he can do. Jaskier will find someone else to warm him soon enough, but for now, he has Geralt.

-

Geralt is on his way back from a job when the sound of raised voices makes him quicken his step. Outside the inn where he’d left Jaskier, he spots a distinctive bright blue doublet in the midst of a gang of angry-looking locals. They’re poking at him and taunting, and Jaskier is gasping in pain.

“Look at this precious little thing,” one of them sneers. “So delicate he can’t even bear to be touched by us lowly folks.”

The man reaches out and grasps Jaskier firmly around the wrist, and Jaskier screams, raw and excruciating. The sound reaches into Geralt’s chest and twists painfully, and he breaks into a sprint.

The next thing he knows, the man is on the ground before him, sobbing as Geralt twists his arm to the point of breaking. The others have fallen back, trying to hide behind each other, and Jaskier stands off to one side cradling his wrist.

“You don’t touch him,” Geralt growls, and the man before him pales even further. “Understood?”

The man nods frantically, babbling apologies, and as much as he’s tempted to break a few bones to drive home his point, he knows Jaskier wouldn’t want that. He drops the man’s arm and snarls, “Go.” He and his friends beat a hasty retreat, leaving the street empty but for him and Jaskier.

“Jask,” he says, and it breaks his heart to see Jaskier so pale, a tear running down his cheek. “Are you alright?” He’s wracked with guilt - he should have been here to protect him.

Jaskier smiles sadly. “I’m fine. My own fault, really.” He reaches out as if to touch Geralt’s hand before faltering, unsure.

He’s clearly in need of comfort, so Geralt pushes his own uncertainties aside and steps closer. He brings up one hand to wipe away the tears from Jaskier’s cheek, and cradles his face as gently as he can. “It’s okay,” he says in the tone he uses to reassure Roach when she’s frightened. “I’ve got you.”

Jaskier blinks up at him with watery eyes, but his smile is more genuine now. “Yeah,” he sighs softly. “Yeah, you do.”

-

Jaskier still insists on performing as they travel, and as much as the thought of him among all those grasping hands sets Geralt’s teeth on edge, he does understand. For all the times that he’s been injured and insisting on continuing to work, it would be hypocritical of him to deny that to Jaskier.

He sways carefully around the tavern as he plays, and to a stranger he’d seem relaxed and at ease but Geralt knows him well enough to see the anxiety in his rigid movements. Each time a hand reaches out toward him he flinches, though normally he’d be luxuriating in the attention.

Each flinch has Geralt’s grasp on his mug of ale tightening, until the wood is groaning beneath his hand and he has to shake it loose lest he crack the mug and send ale flowing over the table.

Jaskier can take care of himself. He’ll be fine.

-

He certainly does seem fine, and by the end of the evening he’s caught the attention of a pretty girl with voluminous curls spilling out from the dainty handkerchief tied around her head. When Jaskier is done with his performance she buys him a drink, and she leans over the table to giggle as they speak in low voices.

Geralt watches from his corner table and scowls. He tells himself his foul mood comes from concern for Jaskier, from worry that this woman might hurt him unintentionally. He almost has himself convinced it’s true.

There’s no point skulking in the shadows all night, he knows, so he finishes his ale and heads upstairs to their room. As he lays down, the bed feels strangely empty without Jaskier’s bustle and scent and colour. Wondering when he became so damn soft, he slips into a meditation.

-

It’s not long before he’s revived by the sound of Jaskier creeping into the room and hurriedly undressing.

Geralt rubs his eyes, dispelling the lingering wooziness. “I thought you’d spend the night celebrating,” he says, trying to keep his voice light. “With that nice young lady.”

In the low light, he sees Jaskier shrug. “It got rather awkward when she kept trying to touch me and I kept having to run away.”

“Too bad.”

“Yeah.” He settles into bed next to Geralt. “It’s just -” Geralt can smell the mixture of exhilaration, arousal, and frustration on him. “It’s frustrating. Wanting something and not being able to have it.”

“Hmm.” Geralt knows that feeling all too well.

“I’m -” Jaskier turns his head away a fraction, and Geralt can see a blush spreading over his cheeks. “I’m not used to going so long without… you know. It’s making me antsy.” He rubs the palm of one hand against his crotch, shifting awkwardly in the bed.

“Hmm.” He inhales again, and the scent of arousal is sharper, more prominent. He rolls onto his side, tentatively places a hand on Jaskier’s thigh. “I could help,” he offers. “If you want.”

He’s expecting to be told no. He’s expecting Jaskier might even push him away, disgusted. He’s not expecting the way Jaskier sucks in a breath, the way the scent of arousal blooms, the way Jaskier squims beneath his hand.

“You’d do that for me?” Jaskier’s voice is breathy.

I’d do anything for you, he thinks but doesn’t say. Instead he places his hand on top of Jaskier’s and guides it to the fastenings of his trousers. Jaskier unlaces himself in a clumsy rush which Geralt can’t help but find endearing, and then he’s working his cock free, rubbing gentle strokes with their two joined hands.

It’s nice like this, where Geralt can let Jaskier guide him, show him what he likes. His fingers tease along the soft skin on the underside of his cock, the delicious slick at the head. As he strokes, Jaskier shakes in his arms, gasping and writhing. When he comes, it’s with a soft, gentle sigh of contentment that Geralt wants to bottle and keep forever.

Jaskier makes a tokenistic effort to wipe himself down with a shirt and collapses back into bed. “Should I…” He chews his bottom lip. “Would you like me to return the favour?”

Geralt’s cock is pressing against his trousers like iron, and Jaskier must be able to feel it. But he didn’t do this with the expectation of recompense. He just wants Jaskier to feel good.

“No, it’s okay,” he says softly.

“Oh,” Jaskier sounds disappointed, almost. “Okay.”

They fall asleep like that, curled up close together, but a feeling of uncertainty hanging between them.

-

In the weeks after that, Jaskier takes to touching Geralt even more. They sleep close together every night, and they find pleasure in each other when they need to. Geralt makes his peace with this unspoken arrangement: he is a hand to Jaskier when he needs it, and Jaskier returns the favour as a politeness.

The first time Jaskier kisses him while they rut together, his heart is fit to burst out of his chest. Trading favours is one thing, but the surge of love and heat and affection that erupts in his chest when Jaskier brings their lips together can’t be denied. He could kiss Jaskier every single night and never tire of it, he thinks. Late at night, as they move together, Geralt feels himself falling.

It’s not everything he wants, but it’s enough.

It has to be enough, because soon they’ll make it to Kovir, and then they can lift the curse, and then Jaskier won’t need him at all any more.

Geralt catches himself wishing that the curse won’t be lifted, and then he’s disgusted at himself for being so selfish.

-

Kovir is beautiful. Sharp, snow-dusted mountains dart up into the sky, and great rivers flow with fresh water through green, lush lands. The city of Pont Vanis is breathtaking, with spire towers reaching up toward the heavens and rich mosaics of glasswork covering every surface. Each new corner seems to hold some elegant delight of artistry, and Jaskier grabs his hand to pull him along each new street to behold some fresh wonder.

But they are not here for gawping, Geralt tells himself, and he steers them toward the address of the mage he’s heard is an expert in curses.

Once inside, the Koviri mage stares at the pair of them.

“A curse, you say?” He raises an eyebrow.

Geralt stands protectively behind Jaskier, ready to leap to his defense should the mage prove troublesome.

“Yes. Whenever anyone touches me, I feel horrendous pain.” Jaskier grimaces. “Except for Geralt. For some reason, he can touch me and it’s fine.”

The mage nods. “I see. Did you perchance anger a magic user?”

“Ahh.” Jaskier looks at his feet. “Well. There was a mage whose acquaintance I made. He seemed… less than happy when I declined his offer of companionship.”

The Koviri mage shudders. “What monsters southerners can be. Cursing someone because they rejected you, what hideous behaviour.”

Geralt is warming up to this mage already.

“Let me see what I can do.” The mage closes his eyes and reaches out his hands, holding them a few inches from Jaskier’s chest.

He opens his eyes again and squints curiously. “Strange. I can’t feel any curse upon you.”

He reaches out, and pokes Jaskier in the chest. Geralt leaps forward, ready to defend his bard from this onslaught, but he’s stopped in his tracks by Jaskier’s voice.

“Huh.” He sounds perplexed, not pained. “That’s odd. That didn’t hurt at all.”

They reason perhaps it’s because the mage is a magic user too, so they bring in the mage’s servant. He touches Jaskier’s hand and again he’s fine. Then they try the washerwoman next door. That’s fine too.

The mage shrugs and smiles. “It seems that the curse has worn off. Some weaker enchantments only last a matter of days.”

Jaskier’s eyes go wide. “You mean… all this time, I’ve been fine? I could have been touching anyone?”

The mage hums, eyes sparkling. “So it appears.” He looks at Geralt, and his gaze is penetrating. “Perhaps it has not been such a loss for you though, hmm? There are many paths to knowledge.”

-

They stagger out into the weak Koviri sunshine and Geralt is consumed with guilt and relief and worry. Surely Jaskier will hate him now. Hate him and leave him, now they’re no longer tied together.

“Jaskier-” he begins, just as Jaskier turns to him to say, “Geralt-”

They stare at each other a beat too long.

Geralt’s shoulders slump. Let the end come if it must. “Go on,” he says, bracing himself.

“Thank you.” Jaskier is giving him that soft, quiet smile that he loves. “For taking care of me.”

That doesn’t make any sense.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I should have known better. I understand if you want to leave.”

Jaskier shakes his head and takes his hand. “Come on.” He leads Geralt toward one of Kovir’s elegant public parks. “Let’s walk.”

-

They stroll beneath a series of wooden archways, woven thick with roses. The sunlight peeks through in dappled spots on the springy grass.

“I don’t regret it,” Jaskier says. “These last weeks. I don’t blame you. You’ve done nothing but try to help me.”

“But you could have been with anyone.” Geralt’s stomach twists at the thought he’s been keeping Jaskier against his will. “You could have touched anyone. Kissed anyone. Found anyone else to bring you pleasure.”

“Oh, Geralt.” Jaskier stops and tenderly brushes a stray hair from Geralt’s face. “I didn’t want anyone else.”

Geralt barely dares to breath. Hope rages within him, frothing and exuberant. “You mean-”

“I didn’t want anyone else then, and I don’t want anyone else now.” He leans in and presses the softest kiss to the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “I always just wanted you.”

His heart feels like it could beat out of his chest. “So you’ll stay with me? Even now?”

Jaskier strokes one finger down his cheek, and his entire world narrows to the joining of their bodies. “Always,” Jaskier promises. “There’s no one I’d rather be with.”

[undermattsun-archive]

taste

(skate rat) kawanishi taichi x fem!reader | w.c 3.5k

a/n: SURPRISE it’s a sequel to mouth <3 my original skate rat sin i suppose, and also like my first real fic/drab for the fandom. god bless. as always thank u to @bakatenshii​ + @sugardaddykenma​ for putting up with me ranting about this fic (and also putting up with me since mouth)

big big thanku to #1 wife @pomsuki​ for reading this for me and yelling at me to finish this damn thing <3

18+ university age | pls read ALL warnings

warnings: drugs, public sex, dub/noncon exhibitionism, degredation, humiliation, dubcon, blood, slight injury (it’s a bloody nose), toxic behavior, misogynistic energy? vibes? you’ll know when u see it honestly

reading mouth isn’t necessary but it is appreciated! and pls check out melt + nightingale syndrome for they exist in the same skate rat universe (+ they’re delicious fics) also the people who wrote em r BIG SEXY

There were more than enough reasons to quit Kunimi Akira. He never texts back, he doesn’t go to class, he’s fucked a few of your friends and he couldn’t commit if you paid him. He was simply a waste of time, it was like every second spent with him was another mark ticked off a test, a percentile lowering on your next paper.

But chucking Kunimi would be like trying to sort grains of rice, difficult and damn near impossible. He always knew how to draw you back in and he enjoyed the mind games a lot more than his bored expression would let on. 

Despite the impossibility of quitting him you had to at least try, so you swore up and down that hooking up with him at Oikawa’s party some odd months ago was truly the last of it, that you were done with him and all of his irritating skate rat friends.

Which begs the question of how you ended up at the little concrete amphitheater on campus, sandwiched between Hanamaki and Matsukawa on one of the steps, a blunt being passed between the two of them without so much as a second glance towards you.

“Say, when’s the last time you and Kunimi had fun?” Makki’s grin is nothing short of lascivious, a slimy feeling weighs on your tongue as you shrug off a shudder.

“Say, was that ever any of your business?” You retort, snatching the blunt from his lips bringing it to your own and inhaling deeply, revelling at the warmth creeping down your throat and filling your chest. 

“Quit it Makki, she’s not gonna fuck you. Kunimi got her ‘round his little finger,” Mattsun coos, taking back the blunt, “besides, heard she’s a fuckin ice queen in the sack. Boooring.”

A sharp inhale keeps you grounded, the sound of Iwaizumi’s board slamming back down onto the pavement reminding you where you are, who you’re with. You’re not going to fall for Mattsun’s little games too.

“Tch.” Daggers prick at your lips, but you bite your tongue knowing that fueling the fire will earn you nothing but a headache. It’s not like you’re waiting for anything, or anyone, stealing a few more hits and leaving would be the best option.

“Oh? Nothing to say? But I heard your mouth was your only redeeming quality.” You focus your gaze on Iwaizumi telling Oikawa to stay out of his way, trying not to let your growing discomfort scare you away. The stubborn refusal of letting Mattsun’s words win only letting a dull ache grow at the base of your skull, prickling further when he and Makki let out low mocking laughs.

“Hey fucknuts!” Your head whips over to see a blur of crimson race by, followed gradually by a few other familiar faces you’ve seen around at parties and on campus.

“God, not these assholes.” Makki laughs as Oikawa makes faces at one of the newcomers. Your eyes drag across the unfolding scene as the number of rowdy idiots grows. You swallow hard, knowing that staying any longer would only cause your headache to further bloom.

“That’s my cue to leave.” You sigh, it’s not like you were waiting for Kunimi in the first place. You weren’t. You were just...killing time.

“Leaving?” Your head tips back to look up at the source of the question, Kawanishi Taichi, of course. 

“Yeah, dunno why I’m here in the first place.” You brush off his quirked brow and shove Mattsun hard with your shoulder as you stand up. With a curt nod, you smooth a hand over your jeans, turning on your heel to brush past Kawanishi, ignoring the low whistle that falls from his lips. You make it a good distance down the walkway before the sound of crunching footsteps behind you prickles at your ears as you ready yourself to tell whoever it is to get lost. 

“Want a ride?” You let out a huff as you look over your shoulder to see Kawanishi standing so nonchalantly, hands tucked into his pockets as he chews on a toothpick.

“Shouldn’t you be skating around with your little boyfriends?” The comment slips out, followed by your tongue sliding over your bottom lip as if it’ll soften the sharpness of your tone. 

“Nah, just droppin 'em off,” his eyes rake up and down your figure as you turn to face him, “where’s yours?”

“My what?”

“Your little boyfriend. You were waiting there like a lost puppy for him.” A protest rises in your chest, curbing it when you see a flash of something akin to flirtatious teasing in his normally passive eyes. 

“I... I don’t have one.” The words are slathered in honey, punctuated with a flutter of your lashes as Kawanishi takes another step forward. 

If Kunimi likes playing all those stupid games, why not play a few of your own?

“Is that so?” His head tilts slightly, you feign shyness, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you smile sweetly at him, confirming your statement with a nod of your head. “My car’s just over in the parking lot.” He tips his head in the direction of the closest lot, before turning to start walking. Without hesitation you easily fall into step beside him, trying to dampen your rising nerves.

Despite the dumb little hookups peppering your dating history, you had only gone so far with most of them, Kunimi being one of the few —and the only one you crawled back to— that you had made the unfortunate pleasure of going all the way with. You keep pushing away at the thoughts of inexperience as Kawanishi approaches an old, beat up, black Corolla, the paint flaking off with dings and dents littering across the body, the impeccably shiny rims on the wheels making you snort. 

It was a rather famous car across campus, seeing it around with stupid skate rats crammed in there with the windows fogged with smoke was an almost daily occurrence, especially highlighted by how it’s tied to one too many stories of girls having varying encounters with Kawanishi –and sometimes one of his friends– in said car.

“Wanna smoke or skip to the real fun?” He never minced any words, always up front or just completely skipping out on the conversation. It always made him the best project partner in the odd classes you’ve shared over your uni years.

“I don’t like waiting.” The fuzziness nipping at your spine from the few hits you took earlier were just enough, not wanting to dull your senses completely during this encounter. The bluntness of your answer causes a smirk to play at Kawanishi’s lips as he opens the door to the back.

“Well then, ladies first.” He gestures to the gray cloth seats, you make a point to ignore the questionable stains littered across it as you slide in, trying to focus instead on figuring out the heady scent permeating through the car. Cheap cologne, cigarettes, weed and maybe stale beer, and something that was distinctly him. 

Your eyes are drawn to a stain on the roof that looks oddly similar to an eagle, the thought unfinished as Kawanishi practically dives in after you. The sound of the door slamming preempting hands roaming over your body and lips moving against your neck. 

“Kawa-”

“Just Taichi.” He clips as he works the buttons of your jeans, a coarse hand working against your spine as he unhooks your bra.

“Eager much?” You laugh as he pushes at your shirt and bra exposing pert nipples to cool air, simultaneously managing to work your jeans past your hips and down your thighs.

“You said no waiting.” With a chaste kiss to your lips he’s maneuvering you onto your stomach, raising your hips in the air, face shoved halfway between the seat and door.  You let out a huff as your hand braces itself against the door, while the other on the seat below you, trying to find some semblance of comfort in the cramped setting.

“Mhm.” It’s the best reply you can manage as he grinds his clothed cock against the cleft of your ass, already hard. You can only imagine how many women he’s had in this situation to award all six feet and three inches of himself the ability to move so successfully around in the cramped backseat. 

Nimble and worn fingers circle around your hip, dipping down to tease at dampening lace, eliciting a soft moan from you. You push back against him, delighting in the soft grunt he lets out as he curls himself over you to scrape his teeth over your nape. His fingers continue to run up and down against your clothed cunt, pressing at the growing slick spot marking your wanting hole.

“Excited huh?” He mumbles as he skims his tongue against the shell of your ear, you manage a low hum in reply as he slides his hands back up, tugging down the flimsy piece of clothing, exposing your needy cunt to hungry eyes. He wastes no time pressing his fingers against your twitching hole, causing you to wiggle your hips just enough to earn a low chuckle and send the message of just how much you want him, need him. 

Without any further hesitation he slips in a finger, your back arching with the realization his fingers are longer than Kunimi’s, chest burning at the fact you could even think of another man in this situation. As if he can sense your wandering thoughts Taichi works in another finger, another following quickly after. There’s no urgency in his movements, each twist and thrust of his fingers methodical, curling in just the right way, making sure to brush his thumb over your throbbing clit to send a stinging pleasure up your spine. 

You can’t deny the way he’s taking you apart so sweetly, the tightening deep in your belly achingly sweet, as he starts to thrust his fingers even deeper, tiny gasps and whines starting to grow louder and louder as you careen towards bliss. With a particularly rough curl of his fingers you feel yourself come undone completely, punctuated by a shameless moan.

The sound of knuckles tapping against the fogged glass pulls you out of your blissful haze, still acutely aware of the way Taichi has his fingers lazily twisting inside of you. 

“It’s open.” He tugs you back by the hips slightly as he retracts his fingers painfully slow, listening as he unzips his jeans. Your heart races as the passenger door opens, shifting uncomfortably to try to catch a glimpse of who’s slid into the car.

“Oh, so that’s where you went, Mattsun said you were hanging around.” Your blood runs cold, your state of undress tightening your chest as you become painfully aware of the situation you’re in. The passive tone of Kunimi’s voice nips at your skin, tears away at the search of mindless fun that you had tried to pursue with Taichi, filling your chest with raw embarrassment.

“What do you want?” The tear of a wrapper following the question, whatever protest you had silenced by a hand coming down to grip harshly at your ass.

“You have my grinder.” Kunimi slips into the passenger seat, the sound of the glove box popping open making your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Yeah well close the door at least.” Your eyes widen at Taichi’s statement, you didn’t want Kunimi to just close the door, you wanted him to leave.

“Whatever. Can I smoke in here?” It doesn’t sound like much of a question, more of a declaration with the ‘can’ and the question mark tacked on for decoration.

“I don’t care, do you?” You crane your head just enough to catch the blasé expression on Taichi’s face, a quirked brow directed more at your ass than you.

“Yeah sweetheart, care if I’m in here while you’re whoring yourself out?” Kunimi scoffs, the irritated tinge to his bored tone making you furrow your brows.

“Oh fuck you.” You start to rise on your elbows, only for Taichi’s hand to land between your shoulder blades, keeping you from moving any further. You let out a huff as Kunimi clicks his tongue in feigned disappointment.

“Sorry babe, it’s me who’s fucking you this time around, maybe Kunimi can get the next round.” Before you can even bother with a retort, Taichi drags the head of his cock against slick folds, teasing at your entrance. You let your head hang down, the click of a lighter grating on your nerves more than you would like to admit. 

“Please, fuck me, I want it so bad.” The whininess of your voice annoys even you, but if Kunimi wants to stick around and get on your nerves, then two could play that game. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” Just like before he slides in slowly, carefully, as if to make you memorize what each inch of him feels like splitting you apart so sweetly.

“Shit.” You exhale shakily as you try to adjust to him, it had been months since you last fucked anyone, since you last fucked the asshole sitting passenger.

He sets a leisurely pace, steady and infuriating. There’s a hand clamped down on your hip, fingers digging in painfully to keep you in place, to establish that he’s the one calling all the shots. You huff, still trying to buck your hips to meet his thrusts. There’s something in his actions that makes you feel greedy, desperate for so much more than he’s offering.

There’s no way around it, you’re completely at his mercy, left taking the shallow, slow thrusts that only makes the desperate ache deep in your cunt grow.

“Hook a finger or two in her mouth.” There’s a pause in Taichi’s motions, letting you finally take a deep breath of the thick weed laced air. “Don’t look at me funny, do it and see what happens.”

You hear a non-committal hum as those devilishly nimble fingers skim past your jaw, a whimper preceding his index pushing past your lips with a harsh tug at the corner of your mouth, the painful stretch of your cheek causing you to clench down on his length.

“Oh? You were right.”

“She’s already broken in,” Kunimi takes a long drag of the joint hanging in his fingers, “no point in holding back.” 

It’s as if a flip is switched in Taichi, the statement becoming an immediate challenge as he hooks in another finger beside the other, yanking harshly as the snap of his hips becomes almost painful. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the car, swirling with the heady smoke defiling the air. 

“W-Wait Taichi.” The words are garbled around his fingers, and you’re quickly dismissed as he snakes around his other hand to hook his middle and index on the other corner of your mouth, the stretch in your lips burning as he shifts from the quick paced thrusts to deep, hard strokes.

His only reply is to tug harshly on your mouth as pathetic whines and distored words spill from you. 

You can feel yourself start to shake almost violently, still reeling from your earlier orgasm and suffering at the hands of Taichi’s now vicious pace. Each thrust pushing you into madness, each tug of his fingers bringing you back. 

“Fuck, fuck.” He curls over you again, sloppily running his tongue up your nape. “You wanna cum?” 

“Mhmm,” you yelp at a particularly rough slam of his hips, “please.”

He grunts, moving a hand to grip at the back of your head while keeping his other hand planted on your hip, fingers biting into your hip. There’s no warning as he grinds into you, the hold on your hip finally relenting as he slides his digits back down to pinch at your throbbing clit, the bit of pressure sending you careening over the edge.

“T-Taichi.” Pleasure wracks through your body, your legs tremble violently as you try to move your hand on the door, shoulder aching from holding yourself in place. The second your hand moves, you give into the force of Taichi’s hand on the back of your head, forcing you to slam face first into the door, the impact making your nose sting, blood immediately starting to gush, running down your face and chin. 

You’re not sure if he doesn’t notice or doesn’t care as he continues his assault, the once careful, methodical thrusts turning desperate and depraved as he moves with reckless abandon. His teeth drag across your shoulder, before pulling out completely.

“Don’t need this.” You grip at your nose, trying to ignore the disgusting feeling of blood seeping onto your fingers, looking over your shoulder again to see Taichi pull off the condom. You can’t even protest with the way you’re bleeding profusely, pinching at your bridge at a poor attempt of stopping the bleeding.

“Stay still.” In one swift movement he’s plunging back into you, bottoming out immediately, a muffled yell falls from your lips, arching your back as he drives into you with just a few more hard thrusts you feel his seed spill inside you. 

For a moment you two stay suspended, the head of his cock nudging against your cervix, making you groan in a twisted sense of pleasure of pain. He pulls out painfully slow, delivering another harsh slap your ass as he sits back.

“Oh, sorry ‘bout your nose.” He helps you flip onto your back, swiping his thumb over the blood trickling onto your lip before shucking off his t-shirt and handing it to you. “Don’t have any tissues.” 

“So who’d you like playing fuck toy for better?” For a split second, somewhere between the back breaking orgasm and your nose being slammed into the door, you had blissfully forgotten that Kunimi was still in the car, but now that perfect illusion just had to be shattered.

“Must you be such a dick all the time?” You manage to pull your jeans back up, hissing at the stinging pain in your hips and lower back, ignoring the lewd feeling of Taichi’s cum starting to leak from your abused cunt. 

Beside you Taichi manages to tuck himself back into his pants, reaching under the driver's seat to yank out a hoodie reeking of weed and cigarettes.

“Maybe you two should just get together already.” Taichi lets out a low chuckle as he pulls on the hoodie, getting out of the backseat, slamming the door hard before throwing the driver’s door open. You don’t even bother trying to hook your bra back on as you pull your shirt down, letting yourself slump back down and lay across the backseat as you reach up to check if your nose is still bleeding.

“Like hell.” Kunimi twists around in the passenger seat, looking down at you with an amused smirk, offering the freshly rolled joint to you. “You look like shit. I said she was broken in, not to break her more.” He only gets a wry laugh from Taichi as he starts the car.

“Thanks, right back at you.” You sit up just enough, looking at Kunimi expectantly. He shakes his head before twisting the joint in his fingers and placing it between your lips, producing the lighter. Just as he’s about to hand it to you he brings his hand back a bit, grabbing your jaw with his other as he lights the joint. He picks up Taichi’s bloodied shirt, pouring water from a twisted plastic bottle onto it before passing it back to you.

“Cute, blew her back out and you’re doting on her.” You watch as Kunimi moves to sit back in his seat, not even bothering to spare you a second glance as he shrugs. You dab away at the drying blood on your face, ignoring a few of the splotches that landed on the joint.

“Guess I play favorites, drop us off at my place.” 

“Us?” You exhale after a long drag, narrowing your eyes at the back of Kunimi’s head as Taichi pulls out of the parking spot.

“What do I even get out of doing that?” You can’t help but nod in agreement of Taichi’s statement, feeling yourself growing annoyed at the way they seem to ignore your entire presence.

“You can fuck her again.” Kunimi offers and you almost drop the joint as your jaw falls open at the absolute nerve of the man. 

“Excuse me? I’m right here?” The way that neither of them even flinch at your statement, let alone acknowledge it makes you slump back into the seat, begrudgingly accepting the fact whatever you say isn’t worth shit to either of them.

“Hm.” It doesn’t sound like he’s actually considering the offer, but the quick look over his shoulder as he turns out of the parking lot sends a chill down your spine and your stomach to twist.

“Believe it or not, her mouth’s her one redeeming quality.” The two of them snicker, like two old pals sharing an inside joke.

“Shut the fuck up.” You’re brushed off once again as they toss back a few more comments before Taichi stops at a red light, looking over at Kunimi, then back at you and finally back towards the road.

“Yeah alright.”

[sunlightbabe]

22) A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” Damiano asks you, twirling his keys around his finger. It’s just you, him, and Thomas in the studio and he lingers by the door, one foot already placed outside. 

You shake your head, careful not to knock your headphones off your head, and look up from the controls around you. “I’m sure, but thank you.” There’s a small pause as you adjust one of the knobs. “Now shoo- if you keep them waiting any longer, Victoria might start trying to eat Ethan.”

Damiano scoffs and from the corner of your eye, you can see him turn to Thomas, who is lounging on one of the couches, arm draped over his eyes. “I’ll pick you up some ginger ale. Take it easy.” And with that, Damiano leaves.

You wait a handful of seconds. And then you wait some more.

“Finally,” Thomas sighs after a long stretch of stillness and silence, sitting up as you all but tear your headphones off and make your way over to the guitarist. “He was taking his sweet time, wasn’t he?”

“Well someone thought it would be a good idea to lie about being sick,” you chastise with a little smirk. Thomas’s smile grows the closer you get and he spreads his legs a bit wider, giving his thigh an inviting little pat. You perch yourself on his lap and his hands come to rest on your waist without hesitation. “... it was kind of impressive, honestly. You’re quick on your feet.”

“It helps to have a goal in mind,” he says with a hum, and then there’s not much room for talking.

Thomas kisses you like this is the last chance he’ll ever have. His mouth is firm and insistent against yours and it’s one of your favorite things about him- another one of your favorites, his hands, grip you a little tighter as you kiss him back. The two of you have been doing this for months now, sneaking around and kissing each other senseless with wandering hands and quiet words shared in the space between you, but every time still feels like the first time. Thomas kisses you and your heart races wildly in your chest.

His hands- his beautiful, wonderful hands- inch lower until he can slide his fingers under your top, and the feel of skin on skin brings a pleasant chill to your spine.

You gasp as he nips at your lip, hard enough to sting, and soothes it over with a quick pass of his tongue, hands wandering further up your shirt.

“Someone’s eager today,” you say with a breathy little giggle. Thomas simply grins and starts to kiss the corner of your mouth, down to your chin, your jaw.

“We haven’t had a moment to ourselves in awhile,” he points out and that’s a fair point. The band has been so busy recently finishing up their newest album and whenever you had enough time to sneak off somewhere, you were both too tired. “But now it’s just me and you.” Thomas drags his tongue against the column of your throat, fingers brushing your ribcage, and you have never been so thankful for a lie in your entire life.

You shift on his lap, which earns a grow from low in his throat, and then Thomas is pulling his hands back and tugging your shirt. You help him take it off of you and before you’ve even dropped it, his mouth is on yours again, tongue moving teasingly against yours. Cupping his face in your hands, you hold him close and rock against him, earning his hands on your hips this time, fingers digging into the fabric of your pants.

“They’ll be gone for hours,” he pants against your mouth, one hand sliding up your back to press your chest more firmly against his. “I want to ruin you.”

As if he hasn’t already.

You moan softly into the kiss and without breaking it, you tug on his shirt and the two of your work on pushing it up and off his body, but you’re impatient. You lean forward to kiss along his collarbones, tongue and teeth working against his skin, and Thomas shivers and lets out the prettiest goddamn noise you’ve ever heard.

He’s tossed his shirt to join yours when the studio door opens.

“Did I leave my wallet in- oh!” Victoria giggles and the two of you freeze like deer caught in the headlights. You can feel your face grow warm in embarrassment and Thomas tenses beneath you as Victoria simply... stares at you both, eyes darting from you to him, a large grin on her face. “I fucking knew it! Ethan owes me so much money.”

“Sorry?” you blurt out as Thomas covers his face with his hands.

Victoria darts into the room, grabbing her wallet from where she left it on top of her case for her bass, and winks obnoxiously at the two of you. “I’ll make sure we’re out for a looong while-”

“Victoria,” Thomas groans from beneath his palms and oh, if only the earth would open up and swallow you both up.

“Have fun, be safe!” The door is slammed shut, but opens a moment later as she quickly pops her head in once more. “Make sure to clean up, yeah? I don’t want to accidentally sit on a jizz stain-”

“Victoria!”

[luminari-mc]

My Human, My Sunshine - Part 2

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Genres: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Word count: 4642

Warnings: N/A

Summary: As a human and a demon get to enjoy the presence of one another again, Mammon knows deep down that behind this ephemeral bliss, hides a looming and powerful storm.

PART 1 - PART 2 -

A/N: it's almost Mammon's birthday! And as promised, here is part 2 of my little series! While part 1 was made to place several plot points here and there, this chapter really starts to set things in motion for future chapters, and especially part 3.

All I have to say here is... Enjoy the fluff while it lasts.

___________________________________________

For the first time in a while... the human world felt much more colorful. Much more silent. It was as if life itself had been born anew, the suffocating darkness engulfing the world having been cast away for the light to reclaim its rightful ownership. The evil dragon of separation had finally been put to rest, and so, the chirping of the birds quickly replaced the self-deprecating thoughts of the people.

The only question left on the people's minds, as their bodies embraced so close to one another throughout the night, rejoicing to finally be back in the other's company, was... for how long, would that blissful respite last?

The night had been deep and short, but much welcoming. The weariness that had taken over the couple's bodies over the past two months had thoroughly vanished, as if all of this had been nothing but a bad dream. How much they wished it had been the case, and that the kisses they had shared the previous night didn't have to be ones filled with the need to feel the other's presence so desperately, for their minds to realize that they were here, and he was here, together in the same room at long last.

A human hand gently caressed a white-haired head, the demon to which it belonged still soundly asleep. Despite it being a few hours after dawn, MC had only recently opened their eyes to the first rays of sunlight, finding themself still in the same position as they had fallen asleep in. Mammon's arms were still firmly wrapped around their frame, their proximity allowing him to breathe in the scent of their skin as his nose brushed against their collarbone each time his chest rose up in his sleep.

Remaining laid down on their side, the human could only keep still and watch the face of their demon in adoration, still unsure whether they really had him in their bed with him, or if the loneliness of the past few weeks had truly made them lose their mind beyond salvation.

But as their fingers gently passed in his hair, their caresses never ending, MC couldn't help but wonder... what had Mammon done since the last time they saw him? How had he spent his time in the Devildom? How were the others? And most importantly, how had he found his way to them? Not that much conversation had been achieved the previous night, to answer all of their questions... The two of them had quickly realized, as MC came to drag Mammon inside the apartment, their clothes damp from the rain that had been dripping from his body, that what they wanted, as their lips met again and again, weren't answers, but to feel each other. And before any of them could notice, they had both fallen into a deep slumber that lasted the entire night.

MC raised their head slightly to look out of the bay window on the other side of the room. Outside, they could partially perceive the colors of the other buildings of the city in the horizon, the sunlight reflecting on their windows brightly and making them squint their eyes in response. They would have preferred to be able to see the green of the trees lined up in the street below, but that was one of the many flaws of this place... the floor that Solomon had chosen for MC to reside in was just way, way too high up.

If it hadn't been for a pair of arms pulling them slightly forward, MC wouldn't have noticed the half-closed pair of blue eyes staring at them in silence. MC immediately lowered their side back against the mattress, their head meeting with the pillow once more. Under the covers, they moved a leg instinctively against Mammon's.

"Good morning." They whispered through a smile, a sound so affectionate to one demon's ears that his hand slid from under the blanket to place itself on the human's cheek.

"Is this a dream?"

Mammon's words surprised them, but only for a short second. The demon's expression was nothing but serious, a slightly furrowed brow adorning his forehead as if he was expecting to receive a positive, yet disappointing answer to his question. Instead, MC's smiled turned only sweeter. They closed their eyes before pulling Mammon closer to them.

"It's not a dream." They felt him place his face in the crook of their neck. "You're with me, and I'm with you. It's for real."

Almost as if he was holding back tears, Mammon inhaled deeply, before closing the empty space between his body and MC's until there was nothing left. Their hand was brought back to the back of his head, drawing slow circles in the hopes of soothing him.

"I still can't believe it." His words seemed to be on the verge of breaking up as they slipped through his gritted teeth. "It feels like you've been gone for a thousand years, even worse... Why the hell did I only find ya now..."

"Mammon..." MC opened their eyes again to urgently place a gentle kiss on top of the demon's head. "What's important is that you found me. It is much better than if a thousand years had really passed, don't you think?"

Mammon's head leaned away from the warmth of their neck, his glassy eyes able to meeting theirs again. His mouth stayed agape for a few seconds, before both of his hands cupped MC's face in place.

"I know I asked last night, but you sure you're okay, right? Nobody has hurt you or experimented on you or anythin'?"

"I'm okay, Mammon." They placed their hands on top of his, a small chuckle escaping through their lips. "I swear, all I did was practice magic with Solomon and live a boring human life."

"But you sure it was normal magic? What if it was some weird spells and he was secretly messing with your body without you knowing?"

His worry made them sigh softly, their thumbs brushing the back of his hands. It was understandable for him to be so concerned for their safety, after receiving no news in such a long time. And the demons had always been wary of Solomon ever since they had known the wizard, to the point where MC themself, had even grown to wonder why Solomon had been acting the way he did, since they had gone back to the human world.

"I promise you." They responded, yet unsure themself of the veracity of their words. "Nothing has been done to me."

Silence fell between the both of them again, a staring contest where Mammon was expecting them to let go of a much harder truth, which never came. He was the first to break eye contact, rather preferring to stare into the space between MC's head and the pillow.

"Solomon... He's hidin' something too. I just know it"

His sudden pouting mouth and words made MC blink. "Too? What do you mean...?"

After marking a wordless pause, Mammon's hands slid off their cheeks, his upper body rising up as he sat himself into the bed. The sheets fell onto his hips, leaving his arm exposed for MC to grab in case he was trying to avoid their question and get up. But instead, all he did was pass a hand through his hair as a deep sigh left his lungs.

"Mammon?" MC called out, their voice starting to show concern due to the demon's sudden secrecy. But as they read his expression a bit more clearly from their laid position in the bed, and as they watched the creases between his eyebrows form, and his jaw clenching, they realized that... Mammon probably knew more about all this than themself.

"A... A lot of shit went down ever since you left, MC." The demon kept his palm in his hair, leaving his forehead exposed. "It's gone bad, and I just... I-I just dunno what to do anymore."

It wouldn't take a genius to see how perturbed Mammon was about this subject- you just had to see the way his fingers had wrapped around his own hair, almost as if he was about to pull a handful, the questions in his mind twirling in a never-ending whirlpool of torment. One thing MC was grateful for, however, was how much more open he had become with them ever since they had known each other.

As MC propped themself on their elbow, they allowed their hand to wander up and down Mammon's arm to remind him of their presence.

"... Do you want some breakfast? I'd rather you explain everything while stuffing yourself with waffles. I make them delicious, I promise."

Although he glanced at them from the corner of his eyes, his pout only seemed to double. MC stopped their hand from rubbing his skin before placing it above his own, their thumb gently brushing the back of it. Like a timid child, his cheeks darkened, letting his voice, now low, respond to their question.

"I... could go with some of your waffles."

After putting some clothes on, apart from Mammon who could only rely on one of MC's loose jogging pants due to his clothes from the previous night still dripping wet on a nearby chair-, MC made their way to the kitchen to prepare something for their demon.

Throughout the whole process, Mammon never left their side. Once his arms had been locked around their frame from behind as they began preparing the waffles, he hadn't let go. His chin remained on their shoulder, his body moving alongside them whenever they had to go to a cabinet to grab a bowl, a whip, or even when they went to pick the different ingredients for the batter. MC had asked in the beginning "are you sure you don't want to sit at the table?", wanting him not to be standing more than his tired legs could bear. But their question was only met with a shaking of his head, before his forehead met with the warmth of their skin. "I'm good there", he had answered. And so MC let him hold on to them, enjoying the feeling of his arms around their waist, and the few kisses he would place here and there alongside their neck and cheek. This calm, this peace, this comfortable silence... they had forgotten what it felt like.

Once all the batter had been changed into hot and steamy waffles, and the rest of the breakfast had been made, the couple sat around the kitchen table.

"So... is it that bad?" MC placed their hands around their hot cup of cocoa, taking a sip of the drink as Mammon filled his mouth with a waffle he had covered in strawberry jam. MC had insisted that he was to eat his batch first, with him having barely eaten anything the previous day. Even if he was a demon, he needed to have a proper morning meal.

"It's almost as if you had never been in the house in the first place." Mammon answered after swallowing his bite. "Satan went back on being super pissy with Lucifer for the smallest things, Levi eats his meals in his room and never comes out. I see Asmo buyin' even more beauty products than usual and he's constantly askin' us if "this and that" suits him, to the point where it's ridiculous. Beel almost stopped eating entirely because he was too worried for ya. If it weren't for Belphie, he would have turned into a literal stick. Now Belphie sleeps more often too. And Lucifer, he..."

He stabbed one of the waffles with his fork, before tearing a piece of it with his teeth. MC's brow instantly furrowed with concern.

"He just has to know why we couldn't reach you. He's been lyin' through his teeth for weeks on end, but he thinks he's being so sly and that we're too dumb to see it." Another teared piece of the waffle disappeared into his mouth. "Like, sure, he's been way more on edge ever since you left the Devildom and even more after we've all started askin' why we couldn't talk to you, but that just shows that he knows somethin' and we don't."

With a slower movement, his fork planted into the remaining bits of the waffle. "But it's just... I don't understand, you get it? Why would he try to hide something about you from us? All of a sudden we can't send you texts or call you like we used to everytime you had to come back to the human world, and out of nowhere he starts actin' all weird about it. It's just..."

MC noticed Mammon's jaw clenching, his hand and fork immobile as it stayed firmly planted into the waffle. The demon swallowed harshly, letting the human know how the situation back at home must have been for him. Without their presence, the brothers had turned back into their previous selves, if not worse.

"What about you?" They asked, making the second-born jerk his head upward at them. "How are you feeling?"

"M-Me? It's... not important." He looked away shamefully, the pressure on the fork increasing and his nail starting to dig into his palm.

"Mammon." Their hand reached forward to wrap itself around the one that was holding the fork. "If my absence has been affecting everyone like this... I want to know how you dealt with it, too."

They patiently waited until Mammon finally dared cross his gaze with their own once again.

"I... dammit, don't laugh, okay?" He muttered. "But, I guess when we learned you didn't have your D.D.D. with ya back in the human world, I was the one with took it the worst... I grew tired of Lucifer tellin' me to be patient and wait for a replacement to get to ya, and I kinda ran to Lord Diavolo and ended up throwing a hissy fit in the middle of the throne room. Barbatos didn't like it, and neither did Lucifer. I still don't know why, but Lucifer didn't strung me from the ceiling on that day. Actually, he's mostly been yelling at us more than punishing. But I guess it doesn't really matter, since the others went all back on ganging up on me for any mistake I make."

Just as Mammon finally brought the rest of the waffle into his mouth in the hopes of not breaking up into a groaning mess, MC could swear they felt their heart sink within them. It sounded exactly like what Mammon had said. The brothers had all gone back to their old ways, with Mammon ending up as the punching bag once again. And all because they weren't around anymore?

"I'm... I'm sorry." Their throat tightened, a sense of guilt starting to wash over them. "If I knew you guys were having it this bad, I'd- I should have been way more insistent with Solomon, I should have kept asking to see you more than I did when-"

"Wha- No no, hey, it's not your fault!" Mammon exclaimed, panic settling in as MC started taking the blame on themself. "I mean, no one coulda thought that you'd be gone for this long... And that we'd be all negative for not being able to call you and stuff..."

Mammon passed a hand over his neck, the other covering MC's fist with its warmth. His eyes drifted to the side.

"We just... ya know. Grew used to havin' ya around. Guess it messed up our heads pretty good, and in the end, hatin' on each other seemed like the only solution to keep us busy.... I think."

MC's stomach churned uncomfortably as they sat there silently, slowly processing Mammon's words. What they wouldn't give to have sensed sooner that the brothers were also out of the loop in this situation, and ask Solomon for answers in the first few weeks after being back in the human world with him. How could they have been so passive about this? How could they have been so blind?

"MC."

Mammon's voice pulled them out of their thoughts, as they raised their eyes back onto him. "Huh?"

"What did Solomon say? About you not being able to see us?"

"Hum..." Their brain replayed the fuzzy memories of what happened two months earlier.

"Well, you remember how we all said our goodbyes to each other before I left the Devildom? It was in the student's council meeting room, like usual. But Diavolo had said that I would need to fill some papers before entering the portal, so I guess since we all were used to saying goodbye like this by now, we didn't really see the harm in having you brothers all leave the room before I entered the portal."

They instinctively bit the corner of their bottom lip. "Which left me, Barbatos and Diavolo in the room. Diavolo said something about needing my D.D.D. to replace it with an upgraded version, which I thought was weird at the time since Karasu had always warned me when it needed repairs or to update an app. But I trusted Diavolo, so I gave it to him, and he said I should receive the new one shortly through Solomon. After that, I got into the portal, but never received the phone, and Solomon started saying all these excuses..."

"What excuses?" Mammon asked, pressing on the matter out of curiosity, but mostly because of the bubbling rage that was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach.

"At first he explained that the new D.D.D. took some time to be shipped to Lord Diavolo, but-- it's Lord Diavolo, the literal demon prince. He knows how much I like to communicate with all of you while I'm up there, so I couldn't understand why he simply couldn't ask for the shipping to go a bit faster?" MC started moving their free hand around as they continued to explain their version of the story. "Then Solomon suddenly switched from the phone taking time to be shipped to... saying that the Devildom was dealing with some dangerous threat that came out of nowhere, and that I needed to stay away until the matter was dealt with. But in the end it just... made me want to know if you guys were okay even more..."

Neither Mammon nor MC had realized, nor heard, that a crack had begun to form under Mammon's firm grip on the edge of the table. The more he learned how many lies had been thrown in their face by the wizard, the more pressure Mammon was putting on his closed teeth. He couldn't believe Solomon had told them that they were in danger, when absolutely nothing eventful had happened during their absence. What was wrong with this guy, Lord Diavolo and Lucifer? The demon searched in his mind again and again, why his older brother would make up such an alliance with Solomon, especially to keep MC at bay- wasn't he supposed to care for them, too?

"I've heard enough." He hissed, the wood cracking even more under his palm. "Once I know what the fuck is going on with those two, I'm bringing you back home."

"Wait-" MC exclaimed, panic in their voice. "I-It has to be for a reason, right? That your story and mine aren't the same? I just- I don't understand why Diavolo and Lucifer would lie to me so that I stay in the human world, especially when they were acting like usual before I left."

"Reason or not, I don't fucking care. Shouldn't they have at least let us know if something was up?" Mammon's hands retrieved from both the table and MC's, the demon grasping the fabric of his pants harshly as he shook his head in disbelief. "Think about it, MC. If they all made up a bunch of lies so that we wouldn't be able to contact you, then it means that you're involved in this. Whatever problem it is they're hiding, they should tell you what it is, and not straight up throw you away in the human world as if neither you or ME would care about it."

The demon let out a frustrated groan as his eyes closed firmly, Mammon not understanding anything of the situation. If he and MC wanted answers, it would require to go back to either Solomon or Lucifer, but either of those options weren't at the top of his priorities right now. All he wanted at the moment, was to make sure that MC would remain safe, if they indeed were at the center of all this. He didn't want to lose them again. Two months of radio silence had already been hard enough. No, now, he would remain with them at all times. No matter if the obstacles ended up being a wizard, the demon prince, or his literal older brother.

MC's arms wrapping around his shoulders pulled him out of his dark thoughts. He opened his eyes, feeling them sitting on his lap as they hid their face into his neck. Their embrace was strong, but at the same time, gentle and comforting. He instantly felt himself melt in his seat. Slowly, his shoulders dropped, and his arms circled the human he loved the most.

"I swear it." He muttered, looking into the empty space behind them. "I'll bring you back to the house. Everyone's missing you, and... I miss you, too."

MC nodded against his neck. "I'd love that. I miss the others. I miss my room there. And you always barging in without notice."

"O-Oh, yeah, about that-" Mammon pulled them slightly away by the shoulders so he could face them. "I kinda forgot to tell ya, but... when you weren't here, I sorta felt really alone, having to sleep in my room without you around, so... uh, what I mean is that- I kinda brought most of my stuff in your-"

The demon's sentence was cut short by the melody of a ringtone at the other end of the table. Mammon looked instantly at MC's phone, arching an eyebrow both for being interrupted, but also wondering who could be calling them on their human phone at this hour.

"Ah- it's probably Solomon. He was supposed to come visit yesterday, but postponed it to today instead." MC said, not without a hint of disappointment in their voice as they got up from Mammon's lap to go grab their phone.

Mammon growled, already preparing himself mentally for possibly having the occasion to yell at the wizard for all the mess he caused, but his plan was immediately stopped by MC, who had put a finger on their lips. While Mammon started pouting, MC pressed the sleep button on the side of the phone, but opened their eyes wide as the name of the caller was written in what seemed like... the Devildom's language.

"It's- not Solomon?"

Their thumb swapped over the Accept button, and just as they placed the phone over their ear and were about to ask who it was, a voice, way too familiar to them, answered first.

"M-MC.. ?" The broken sobs mixed with the voice of none other than Leviathan, almost made MC forget how to breathe. "Aahh, I'm so glad... I-I wasn't sure if- sniffle..."

"Levi?" MC clasped their other hand over the phone, alerted by the state of the demon on the other side of the line. Behind them, Mammon practically jumped out of his seat.

"Levi?! Put him on speaker!"

MC obeyed him, quickly turning the speaker on and putting the phone in-between the two of them. The third-born's voice could now be heard in the entire room, as his desperate cries continued.

"Yo, Levi, why are you crying?! And how did you figure out how to call MC's phone?!" Mammon shouted, before approaching the phone to listen more closely. "Hey, is that Asmo I'm hearin'? Is he with you? What's happening??"

"Mammon... we were so worried- that you wouldn't find them..." Levi continued, as several people could be heard in the background, seemingly arguing with each other. "I tried really hard you know... I'm so, so sorry MC... I really tried... Please, please forgive me, I tried..."

"T-Tried? Wha- What did you try, Levi?" MC asked nervously, a knot starting to form in their throat. But the only answer they received from Leviathan, was a louder sob, soon followed by muffled cries as if the demon had stuffed his face into a pillow.

"Here- Levi, I'll talk to them." Another voice replaced Levi's, this one more composed in its tone. It increased in volume as the owner brought the phone closer to their face. "MC, Mammon? Are you still there?"

"Satan..." MC whispered, a hand placed over their chest. It had been so long since they had heard either of the other demons' voices.

"Hey, Satan, what's wrong with Levi?! I keep hearin' the others talking behind you too! I leave you guys for one day and already one of you is bawling his eyes out?!" Mammon asked urgently, obvious worry in his voice for his brother. As if the whole trip to the human world hadn't already been anxiety inducing, now something had happened within the House of Lamentation, and he wasn't there to check up on them.

On the other side of the phone, Satan clicked his tongue.

"After helping you find MC's location, Levi spent hours learning how to call a human phone with a demon one... literal hours. I'm glad it worked." He paused. "Everything would have turned out alright, if only it hadn't been for him."

While MC blinked in confusion, Mammon's breath was caught in his throat. His face turned pale, and his brow furrowed even more as the realization of what the fourth-born was trying to tell him washed over him.

"Wait... Don't tell me-"

"He's gone way too far this time." Satan hissed. Behind him, the voices of the other brothers turned quieter, the blonde demon moving away from them. "You have to leave wherever you are. While you didn't know where MC was, Mammon, I'm not doubting that he does. I don't know why he's acting the way he is but... I'm worried about MC. Mammon, you have to get them away from him."

"Wait, Satan, are you talking about-"

Two dry knocks came from the entrance door, and MC immediately shut themself up, quickly pressing the speaker off. Flipping their head alongside Mammon's towards the sound, the two's breaths turned slow and their bodies immobile, like deers caught in headlights. Neither of them dared make a sound, nor move a muscle, their eyes glued to the wood of the door as they waited for additional knocks, which never came.

Instead, after a silence that seemed to last forever, with only the now small voice of Satan hurriedly asking them from the phone if they were alright, a hue began emanating on the door. A red circle, shining a light that resembled a laser's glow, drew in the center. Several patterns followed and appeared within it, and before MC could take a step towards it, as they finally understood who was on the other side, Mammon's body immediately blocked them from advancing.

"Mammon-"

The demon raised an arm out, preventing MC from moving further away from the table. The human didn't have to see his face to know that he was preparing himself for anything- his tensed body in front of them spoke for himself.

His inner thoughts from a few minutes ago resurfaced in a flash upon sensing MC's hand on his back. No more separation. He had to protect them- stay with them. No matter the obstacle.

Even if this obstacle, turned out to be his own older brother.

"He's here."