#What an exiting journey!
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harker-jonathan · 8 months ago
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3 May. Bistritz. —Left Munich at 8:35 P. M, on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:46, but train was an hour late. Buda-Pesth seems a wonderful place, from the glimpse which I got of it from the train and the little I could walk through the streets. I feared to go very far from the station, as we had arrived late and would start as near the correct time as possible.
The impression I had was that we were leaving the West and entering the East; the most western of splendid bridges over the Danube, which is here of noble width and depth, took us among the traditions of Turkish rule.
We left in pretty good time, and came after nightfall to Klausenburgh. Here I stopped for the night at the Hotel Royale. I had for dinner, or rather supper, a chicken done up some way with red pepper, which was very good but thirsty. (Mem. get recipe for Mina.) I asked the waiter, and he said it was called “paprika hendl,” and that, as it was a national dish, I should be able to get it anywhere along the Carpathians.
I found my smattering of German very useful here, indeed, I don’t know how I should be able to get on without it.
Having had some time at my disposal when in London, I had visited the British Museum, and made search among the books and maps in the library regarding Transylvania; it had struck me that some foreknowledge of the country could hardly fail to have some importance in dealing with a nobleman of that country.
I find that the district he named is in the extreme east of the country, just on the borders of three states, Transylvania, Moldavia, and Bukovina, in the midst of the Carpathian mountains; one of the wildest and least known portions of Europe.
I was not able to light on any map or work giving the exact locality of the Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country as yet to compare with our own Ordance Survey Maps; but I found that Bistritz, the post town named by Count Dracula, is a fairly well-known place. I shall enter here some of my notes, as they may refresh my memory when I talk over my travels with Mina.
In the population of Transylvania there are four distinct nationalities: Saxons in the South, and mixed with them the Wallachs, who are the descendants of the Dacians; Magyars in the West, and Szekelys in the East and North. I am going among the latter, who claim to be descended from Attila and the Huns. This may be so, for when the Magyars conquered the country in the eleventh century they found the Huns settled in it.
I read that every known superstition in the world is gathered into the horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if it were the centre of some sort of imaginative whirlpool; if so my stay may be very interesting. (Mem., I must ask the Count all about them.)
I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortable enough, for I had all sorts of queer dreams. There was a dog howling all night under my window, which may have had something to do with it; or it may have been the paprika, for I had to drink up all the water in my carafe, and was still thirsty. Towards morning I slept and was wakened by the continuous knocking at my door, so I guess I must have been sleeping soundly then.
I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge of maize flour which they said was “mamaliga”, and egg-plant stuffed with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call “impletata”. (Mem.,get recipe for this also.)
I had to hurry breakfast, for the train started a little before eight, or rather it ought to have done so, for after rushing to the station at 7:30 I had to sit in the carriage for more than an hour before we began to move.
It seems to me that the further east you go the more unpunctual are the trains. What ought they to be in China?
All day long we seemed to dawdle through a country which was full of beauty of every kind. Sometimes we saw little towns or castles on the top of steep hills such as we see in old missals; sometimes we ran by rivers and streams which seemed from the wide stony margin on each side of them to be subject ot great floods. It takes a lot of water, and running strong, to sweep the outside edge of a river clear.
At every station there were groups of people, sometimes crowds, and in all sorts of attire. Some of them were just like the peasants at home or those I saw coming through France and Germany, with short jackets, and round hats, and home-made trousers; but others were very picturesque.
The women looked pretty, except when you got near them, but they were very clumsy about the waist. They had all full white sleeves of some kind or other, and most of them had big belts with a lot of strips of something fluttering from them like the dresses in a ballet, but of course there were petticoats under them.
The strangest figures we saw were the Slovaks, who were more barbarian than the rest, with their big cow-boy hats, great baggy dirty-white trousers, white linen shirts, and enormous heavy leather belts, nearly a foot wide, all studded over with brass nails. They wore high boots, with their trousers tucked into them, and had long black hair and heavy black moustaches. They are very picturesque, but do not look prepossessing. On the stage they would be set down at once as some old Oriental band of brigands. They are, however, I am told, very harmless and rather wanting in natural self-assertion.
It was on the dark side of twilight when we got to Bistritz, which is a very interesting old place. Being practically on the frontier–for the Borgo Pass leads from it into Bukovina–it has had a very stormy existence, and it certainly shows marks of it. Fifty years ago a series of great fires took place, which made terrible havoc on five separate occasions. At the very beginning of the seventeenth century it underwent a siege of three weeks and lost 13,000 people, the casualties of war proper being assisted by famine and disease.
Count Dracula had directed me to go to the Golden Krone Hotel, which I found, to my great delight, to be thoroughly old-fashioned, for of course I wanted to see all I could of the ways of the country.
I was evidently expected, for when I got near the door I faced a cheery-looking elderly woman in the usual peasant dress—white undergarment with a long double apron, front, and back, of coloured stuff fitting almost too tight for modesty. When I came close she bowed and said, “The Herr Englishman?”
“Yes,” I said, “Jonathan Harker.”
She smiled, and gave some message to an elderly man in white shirt-sleeves, who had followed her to the door.
He went, but immediately returned with a letter:
“My friend.–Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well tonight. At three tomorrow the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land.–Your friend, Dracula.”
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aroaessidhe · 10 months ago
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2024 reads / storygraph
Exit Plans for Teenage Freaks
YA contemporary + a little sff
follows a boy who suddenly finds himself able to teleport when he walks through doors, often against his will
and has to figure that out while dealing with a new crush, the end of high school and the queer club, and figuring out whether he definitely wants to train to be an ASL interpreter like his father
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cube-cumb3r · 1 year ago
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im gonna be completely honest man all this donna noble posting is getting to me. ive watched maybe max 3 episodes of doctor who 6 years ago but youre convincing me a little bit to watch more. youve made me insane about these two characters i know very little about outside of what you put on my dash. what are you doing to me
This is the highest honor anyone could've ever bestowed upon me,Laying down on the floor i've reached self-actualization god put me on this earth to make other people on tumblr unwell about donna noble and i've succeeded at long last. go watch 2006 christmas special runaway bride now
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... Having some Feelings, and I can't entirely even blame the shitty sleep I've been getting this week lol
#keep having my sister tell me i should listen to more sapphic music and uh#on the one have she's probably right i do tend to live in one of like 3 holes of music#none of them are technically sapphics (though a more stoned certain of me could make a compelling case about MCR)#but i keep getting stuck with like#she's pansexual#we're both multisexual so we have a lot in common there but like she knows i like women (and more) and ditto me about her#but i also keep thinking about like#I've said it's fine only like a million times because i can't afford to exit the closet in any sense while living at home#but like#i think she's suggesting it from a sense of a sapphic person being a Woman (whatever that is) who likes women and/or wants to fuck women#the problem I've got with that is conplex at best but#Listen i don't strictly identify with sapphic as a descriptor for how i experience attraction#because I tend to Feel that it implies an attachment to womanhood in one's own gender that I don't have#and i know that's kinda silly#but my beginning of my gender journey was the internal record scratch that came at 17 YO when a peer called me a woman#and i spent a good few years with Not A Woman as my biggest gender identifier/descriptor#my point is that it rubs me the wrong way for my sister#who is at least partially a woman#to suggest to me that i as a queer genderfluid(?) tranny Needs to listen to more sapphic music#yeah i relate to some of it like the Ashnikko music or Chappell Roan For Sure (queerness is a series of been diagrams of course)#but i can't help but feel that she misses the part where i also identify heavily with the way that Jim Hutton spoke of Freddie#or the way that Elton writes about previous lovers#or the way that George Michael did All That#and i think she (i mean naturally as a woman who was assigned a matching gender at birth) forgets the Gender of it all#anyway#this is an oversimplification of a summary of why i have been unable to get into BTVS even though i know it's a great example of queer media#and it's not that any of this has passed in actual words#but I. I Know when people aren't saying something and when i can't read minds i lean on context clues and what i know#and i can't help but think that 20+ years of practice has given me at least some insight#anyway i have lots i could say but I think I've run out of room actually So
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andycmarshall · 9 months ago
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Embracing Artistic Chaos
If you could be a character from a book or film, who would you be? Why? I’d Choose to Be Mr. Brainwash from “Exit Through the Gift Shop” if only for a moment. For me, Mr. Brainwash from the documentary (or is it mockumentary?) film “Exit Through the Gift Shop.” His enigmatic persona, boundless creativity, and relentless pursuit of artistic expression embody qualities that I aspire to cultivate…
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punkshort · 2 months ago
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The Farmer's Daughter
Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader one-shot
Summary: Forced to sell your body after your father's farm went under, you find yourself hand picked to service the Roman army on their latest battle away from Rome. What you didn't expect was to be selected to share General Acacius's room for the duration of the journey.
Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), heavy talks of prostitution, mentions of SA but none occur, reader is a (new) prostitute, virginity loss (no blood mentioned just some discomfort), descriptions of battle wounds/blood, food and alcohol consumption, one bed trope, enemies to lovers-ish, unprotected piv sex, thigh riding, angst, possessiveness
WC: 10.2K
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
A/N: I know by this point his character is mostly referred to as Acacius in the film but I'm sorry, I can't wrap my head around someone moaning that name in bed. So let's just ignore that, okay?
How did this happen? Why did fate play you such a cruel and twisted hand?
When you were younger, you expected to be married off to be a housewife to a solider. From what you heard growing up, it wasn't a terrible life. The men were gone most of the time which allowed the women to run the household and raise children in peace. Unfortunately, your mother died during childbirth and your father, a humble farmer, passed away too early in life, leaving you and his few workers to keep the farm operating for as long as possible. To make money, you spent much of your time at the market, selling the food you made on the farm and the goods you weaved and molded from the scraps.
It wasn't enough. You lost the farm after a handful of years and you were on the brink of becoming destitute. Already you were malnourished and dehydrated, but as hard as you tried, you couldn't find work.
That was how you found yourself in a long line of women, standing silently with your heads bowed and your hands clasped as you were all throughly inspected by a senior officer of the Roman army. They were choosing their group of whores to hire to accompany the men on their next battle across the sea. You were left with no other option but to sell your only remaining asset. The thought turned your stomach, but the idea of starving to death was worse.
One by one, women were hand picked to step forward and exit the room. All in all it had to have been close to forty whores hired to service an entire army.
The odds were not in your favor if you were picked.
It came as a relief when you ended up not getting chosen. You breathed a deep sigh and lifted your chin, scanning the room of remaining women and senior ranking soldiers. You would make do somehow. At least you wouldn't be spreading your legs multiple times a night for different men after they've spent the day fighting and working up their appetite.
You turned to follow the women back out onto the streets of Rome, no doubt searching for another way to sell their bodies, when you heard a deep, familiar voice call your name. You froze in disbelief, wondering who could possibly know you, and then you slowly turned.
It was General Acacius. The fearless leader of the Roman army, but you knew him from your stand in the market. Whenever he was home from battle, he always found you and purchased more than he could possibly need, feeding you and your farmhands for weeks. He never said much and neither did you, but you had grown fond of seeing his greying curls and dark, smoldering eyes approach your stall, albeit with a new wound or scar to show for his travels.
You did not even realize he knew your name.
His eyes drifted up and down your worn tunic, noticing the stains and rips and your poor fitting sandals. Your gaze flickered nervously around the room at the other men impatiently looking to wrap up their work and begin their long journey, but remained silent, deferring to the general.
"You will come with us," was all he said, his voice booming in the small room. Your blood ran cold and panic seized your throat.
"But the choices have already been made-"
"I am paying. I believe I am allowed to decide how many whores we bring along."
You clamped your mouth shut, brows furrowing in anger. How foolish you were to assume he was a man of honor, a man who wanted to help you when he bought your meager wares in the market. As it turned out, he was no better than any other, only out to seek pleasure between your legs.
At that point, you knew better than to argue. Your fate was sealed. Begrudgingly, you forced yourself to follow after the other chosen women, walking past the high ranking officials who sized you up as you went.
The army was to travel by ship. Or multiple ships, to be exact. The women were counted off and told to stand in smaller groups, one handful of whores for each ship of hungry soldiers. When your group was assigned, you heard that familiar powerful voice come out of nowhere once again, stopping everybody in their paths.
"She is to travel on mine," General Acacius announced. A few men exchanged confused glances and Acacius grew irritated. "That one," he clarified, pointing directly at you. The other men quickly nodded and shuffled you into another group, and you thought that would be the end of it, but then he spoke again as the others began to board.
"She will stay in my chambers."
If the soldiers were surprised, they hid it well, but you didn't. You whipped around and glared at him defiantly, a litany of disrespectful curses on the tip of your tongue. Thankfully, you remembered your place and who you were speaking to and caught yourself before you got killed, but as you turned to board the ship, you noticed an amused smirk play across the general's lips.
A young solider shoved you into the general's quarters, ordering you to not go through his things or they would cut off your hands, then slammed the door shut, leaving you all alone. The rest of the women had gone below deck, most likely to a shared room that was filthy and freezing cold. You, on the other hand, had a beautiful soft bed and a roaring fire to warm yourself by a small wooden dining table. There was a bookshelf tucked into the corner and your fingers itched to pull the books out and examine them, but you didn't dare. Instead, you sat on the small cushioned bench next to the only porthole in the room, tucking your knees against your chest protectively while you waited for the inevitable.
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Sleep took hold of you at some point while you waited for the general to retire. The last thing you remembered was the open sea and the glorious golden sun beginning to dip just below the horizon. When you awoke, it was dark, the only light in the room coming from the fire. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and unfurled yourself from your bench to look around, then nearly yelped when you found the general quietly sitting at the table pouring himself wine.
Your heart raced violently in your chest, knowing full well what he expected of you. And despite offering yourself up earlier that day as a whore, you had decided you would not do it for this man. Because this man came to your booth in the market under the guise of kindness that turned out to be a lie, and it simply did not sit right with you.
"I will not lie with you willingly," you announced boldly with your arms crossed. The general quirked an eyebrow and took a long sip of his wine.
"When was the last time you have eaten?"
You scowled, body vibrating with energy and ready for a fight only to be met with indifference.
"I am not hungry."
"You will eat or you will die," he said, avoiding your eye and standing to collect a plate of food by the door. He dropped it onto the table and pointed angrily at it. "Eat."
"Why?"
"You need your strength, you are frail."
"You do not like your whores thin, then?" you shot back. Acacius clenched his jaw, eyes still cast down. "You wish to fatten me up so you have something to hold onto when you force my legs apart?"
"That is enough!" he roared, fiery eyes finally finding yours and pinning you with an intense stare that had you trembling. "I will not be forcing you to do anything except eat. Now sit down, do not test my patience."
It was a combination of fear and hunger that made you obey, sinking down into the chair opposite his where the plate of lukewarm food awaited you. Acacius sat down and picked up his goblet, watching you from over the rim as you slowly began to pick at the food. You both remained silent while you ate and he drank, the only sound to be heard was the crackling from the fire and the distant laughter and yells from his men in the galley below.
He was right. You hadn't eaten in days. It was no wonder you fell asleep so quickly earlier. You wanted to express your thanks, but you were too stubborn. Instead, you finished your food and put the plate in the basin of water by the door before looking around the room once again. It was easily the nicest room on the ship. You had to imagine most of the soldiers would be sleeping in hammocks stacked on top of one another down below, but the general had the biggest, softest looking bed you had ever seen in your life.
But there was only one.
He watched you from his place at the table, studying your face as you worked out the mechanics.
"I will not force myself upon you if we share the bed," he said, dragging your attention back to him. He was still in his armor, all shiny and clean from the public celebration that took place prior to the army's departure.
"Why am I here, if not to pleasure you?" you asked. You sounded calmer than before but you were still very much on edge.
"You believe I would find pleasure in forcing myself upon a woman?" he questioned before draining his cup. You thought about it for a moment and shrugged.
"Perhaps. Yes."
He stared down at his empty chalice, your heinous opinion of him rolling around in his head and making his chest ache.
"Well, I do not," he proclaimed, standing up quickly and causing his chair to almost topple backwards. He began to unhook his heavy armor, dropping it into a pile on the floor until he was down to his tunic.
"If we were to lie together, it would be because you wish it so," he said softly with his back to you. You swallowed thickly.
"What am I to do here, then?" you asked as he began to turn down his sheets. He slid his tired body into bed and sighed.
"Whatever you like. So long as you stay in this room, you will remain unharmed."
You blinked rapidly, desperately trying to put the pieces together.
"That is all?"
"Yes. That is all. My only wish is you are safe and fed."
You couldn't help it. You had to ask.
"But... why?"
But the general rolled onto his side, effectively ending your conversation and leaving you wondering what you had gotten yourself into.
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That first night, you did not share his bed. You slept on the bench by your porthole, curled up small, arms wrapped around yourself protectively until the sun rose. When you awoke, the general was gone, but a plate of food was left on the table for you.
The first week on the ship went exactly the same. You stayed in his chambers, staring out at the sea or sleeping until he returned way past dark with some food for you and a tired look in his eye. And every night, you slept on the bench, still far too distrusting of him.
The second week, the general brought a game with him at dinner time. Two cups and two wooden dice. The idea was you had to guess what you would roll. If you won, you got whatever you bet on the round. It wasn't that entertaining at first since you had only the clothes on your back and nothing else, but what you did have were stories or songs or a slight of hand trick your father taught you when you were young.
You wouldn't realize until much later that it was his way of getting to know you better.
"You released all the cows from the pasture?" Acacius repeated in disbelief. You giggled and nodded.
"I was only six years old! I thought they were being held against their will!"
Acacius laughed, the sound making you grin like a fool and your cheeks warm.
"Alright," he said once he got ahold of himself. "Go on."
You picked up the die and tossed them into a cup, giving it a firm shake and smiling when he shot you a playful wink.
You clapped the cup firmly over the table and before you raised it up, you announced, "One three and one five."
"What is your wager?"
You nodded towards his bookshelf. "One of your books."
He looked up at you in shock. "You can read?"
You gave him a fake look of disgust and nodded. "Of course I can read."
"And you have been here this whole time without picking up a book?"
"Your men told me they would cut off my hands if I touched what is yours."
His face softened and he sat back in his chair.
"No one will touch you," he told you firmly. You stared at one another, the heavy moment weighing between you, the implication of his words impossible to deny. No one will touch you because you are his.
To break the tension, you smirked and said, "So I suppose that means I do not need to wager the books?"
Acacius grinned and shook his head. "Too late, little one."
You rolled your eyes and lifted the cup, pouting when you saw two six's.
"Your turn," you said, pushing the cup to the side.
Acacius collected the dice and dumped them into the cup, shaking it while looking at you curiously from across the table and admiring the way the light from the fire flickered over your beautiful face.
"You can still take a book."
You perked up but shook your head. "That is against the rules of the game, General."
"I make the rules. Take a book tomorrow," he insisted before slamming the cup down. His large hand gripped the top of the cup, keeping it pressed tightly against the table.
"Your wager?" you asked, cocking your head to the side.
He swallowed, wondering if he should say what he wanted to say. The fear that you would pull away from him again fought against the insatiable attraction he had harbored for you for years. But the wine must have won the fight because he said, "One kiss."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and for a moment, he thought he made a horrible mistake. But then you squared your jaw and narrowed your eyes and said, "Go ahead."
He grinned, pulse thrumming excitedly in his throat when he said, "One one and one four."
But when he lifted the cup, his face fell. A three and a six.
"Ah, well," he said, shoulders drooping. He yawned and stood to collect the dice. "Better luck tomorrow."
Before you could stop yourself, you stood as well and leaned up to peck a chaste kiss against his scruffy cheek. He looked at you in surprise and you gave him a crooked grin.
"For the book."
He smiled and nodded, doing his best to hide his disappointment as you got yourself ready for bed. You had a small pillow and thin blanket to curl up with by the porthole, and it irked him that you wouldn't take more. He feared you would catch a sickness and your malnourished body wouldn't be able to fight off an infection, but you were so stubborn that he couldn't convince you otherwise.
However, the third and final week at sea had you shivering on your bench. Acacius could hardly sleep knowing how cold you were. He could hear your teeth chattering from across the room.
"I beg of you, please sleep in my bed," he said one night as you began to make your little nest by the porthole. You shook your head.
"I am fine, I swear it."
"You are not fine. Please, I will not touch you, you have my word."
You chewed on your lower lip and looked over his shoulder at his warm, plush bed. He could see your resolve begin to falter, so he offered to sleep on the bench in your place.
"No, do not be ridiculous. You have an army to lead tomorrow, you cannot be tense as a knot because you slept on a too small bench."
"I will if it means you are safe and warm," he said softly, his vulnerability taking you off guard.
"General-" you sighed, but he cut you off.
"Please. I promise I will remain on my side of the bed. Just stop being so stubborn for once in your life."
You scoffed and propped your hands on your hips. "For once in my life? And what would you know of it?"
He squinted at you and crossed his arms. "I know more than you think. I know you would not quit until you broke in that filly when you were twelve years old. I know you nearly pushed a boy down a well when he tried to kiss you in front of the whole school. I know you argued with your teacher over the correct spelling of amaranth and I know you poured every last bit of yourself into a dying farm just to keep the memory of your father alive."
Your jaw hung open in surprise, taken aback by the way he stored all of the little snippets of your life you had given him over the past two weeks only to end it with his own observation of you at the market.
You could feel yourself growing weak for him, the temptation to give in too much to bear. He had been slowly wearing you down since you arrived and perhaps he was right, perhaps you were far too stubborn because the last thing you wanted to do was go back on the proclamation you made that very first night.
So, you chose to be defiant.
"Fine," you snapped, swiveling on your heel and stomping towards his bed. "If you wish to share your bed with a whore so badly, then so be it."
Acacius rounded the bed and slipped in beside you, making sure to leave plenty of space.
"You and I both know you are no whore."
"Oh, you know so very much about me, I forget."
You tugged the heavy blankets up to your chin and tried not to audibly sigh at how comfortable it was in his bed.
"If you are a whore, tell me then: how many men have you laid with?"
You clenched your jaw, angry that he was able to figure you out so easily. Instead of answering, you rolled onto your side, your back to him, and muttered, "good night."
Acacius grinned and closed his eyes, proud of himself for besting you.
"Good night."
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The following morning, you awoke earlier than usual. When your eyelids fluttered open, the first thing you noticed was the ache in your bones was gone. The large, soft bed had been enough to cure you in just one night.
Not something you planned on admitting to the general, of course.
The second thing you noticed when you sat up in bed was that the ship was not moving. It was completely still, and you could hear loud, quick footsteps outside your door and above your head. Men were shouting to one another and the clink of swords and armor were echoing throughout the halls. Then, through the walls somewhere above you, you heard the general's deep, booming voice yelling orders to his men. You threw off the blankets and hurried to the porthole, your eyes widening when you saw land and small boats being lowered into the water.
You had arrived at whatever distant land the emperors demanded Acacius claim for Rome, and the soldiers were getting ready to depart for their first fight.
You chewed nervously on your nail, curled up against the wall and peering out the window for hours until the very last boat sailed away. In the distance, you could see the general's broad back covered in armor, his dark curls fluttering in the sea breeze and his massive sword tucked dutifully at his waist.
He had left for war and didn't even say goodbye.
Why would you care if he said goodbye? Maybe if they all die, you could escape to shore and be free, find a new city and make a home for yourself.
Even you had to admit that fantasy was foolish. No matter where you went, your fate would always be the same. You had no money, no prospects, no skills and no family. Your destiny was already written and it was a miracle your first attempt at prostitution landed you in the cushy quarters of Rome's surprisingly respectful general.
Your nerves kept your feet moving all day. You tidied up the general's desk, sorting his papers and maps. You scrubbed at the dishware until they sparkled and you made the bed, fluffing up the pillows and tucking in the loose edges until you had nothing left to do. The room was as neat as possible, not a single item out of place, and yet you still floundered around looking for something to occupy your busy mind.
When the sun began to dip and his room grew darker, you went around lighting candles to allow for more light. You were in the middle of lighting the last candle when you heard a timid knock at the door.
Nobody had ever come to his chambers the entire three weeks besides the general himself. You swallowed anxiously, wondering who it could be and if you should answer when you heard a woman's small voice from the other side of the door.
You decided it was safe and opened the door a crack to find one of the whores you had boarded the ship with waiting on the other side with buckets of water and a basin.
"For the general," she said softly. You nodded and dragged the buckets into the room, trying not to stare at the bruises and dirt littering her dry skin. Your stomach twisted with guilt after she left and you locked the door. The other women were living like cattle and you were living the life of luxury. Not only was the general not forcing you to fuck him, but you were giving him sass at every turn.
It was a harsh reminder of your fortune, of what your life could be like. The thought of living the life of the women below deck frightened you, so you had decided that evening when the general returned, you would give yourself to him to show your appreciation, as well as out of fear he would soon get rid of you if you didn't give him what he wanted.
You remained at your post, staring out at the dark sea until you could see the bobbing of lanterns making their way across the black expanse, letting you know the men were returning for the night. You rushed to warm up his water over the fire, dumping it into the large basin. You poured some scented oils into the bath just as the door unlocked and opened, revealing a very filthy and exhausted looking general holding two plates of food.
"Good evening," you said, standing obediently. Acacius paused at the door, confused by your formality before closing it with his heel and setting down the food at the table. "I have a warm bath ready for you, General," you added, pointing towards the basin. He nodded tiredly and began to work on the hooks of his armor. You rushed forward to help him, once again taking him by surprise until he was stripped down to his red tunic.
"Would you like to eat or bathe first?" you asked. The general sighed and looked longingly at the bath.
"I will clean myself while you eat," he said. He pointed towards the table and motioned for you to turn around.
"May I assist you instead, General?" you asked with your back turned. You could hear the shuffle of fabric falling to the wooden floor and then a sharp hiss when he sunk down into the warm water.
"Assist me with what? Cleansing myself? I believe I can manage," he chuckled. You turned around to stare at the back of his head, his body now submerged in the water and hidden from view, but you could still see his shoulders and arms. They looked bruised and bloodied.
He didn't notice your eyes on him, of course. He was busy scrubbing the dirt and blood from his skin while he looked around the tidy room.
"It is very nice in here, you did not have to straighten up."
It was the least you could do and you knew it but said nothing.
Instead, you shakily lifted your worn tunic over your head and let it crumple to the floor. Nerves fluttered in your stomach as you slowly approached him, the general completely unaware as he continued to scrub his skin.
"I can think of another way to assist you," you said nervously as you stepped into his eyeline. His chin tilted up and he did a double take when he saw your naked form standing before him. His cloth dropped into the water and his jaw fell open in surprise, eyes wide and greedily raking over your body.
"Wh- what is this?" he stammered, gaze glued to your chest. Your fingers fidgeted at your sides under his scrutiny.
"I thought I would show you my appreciation for your hospitality," you explained. "I would like to repay you in some way for choosing me to share your quarters."
A small smile tugged at his lips as he eagerly reached forward, then stopped when he registered your words. He looked up at you questioningly, excitement falling from his face when he asked, "What do you mean, repay me?"
You shrugged and took a hesitant step forward, close enough now so he could reach out and touch your cunt if he chose.
"I realized today my fate could have been much harsher," you explained. "I have not been showing you my appreciation and respect, and in return, I wish to give you my body to use as you see fit."
Acacius frowned and turned his head away, searching for the cloth so he could continue cleaning himself.
"I do not want your body as payment, I believe I told you that weeks ago."
"You said we would not lie together unless I wished it so," you protested. "I now wish it."
"You wish to lay with me out of obligation, not desire. That is not something I want."
Embarrassment and confusion flooded your mind as you slowly stretched your arms across your exposed body, trying to hide yourself out of shame.
"I apologize-"
"Get yourself decent and eat," he commanded without looking up. His voice sounded hard and cold and for some reason, it made you want to cry. You did as you were told, dragging your dirty tunic over your head and sat quietly at his table to pick at your food. You were confused and ashamed, sitting in the tense room with him while you tried to work out what he wanted from you. The idea of wanting a man out of desire never occurred to you. You had grown up under the impression women of your station did not get to experience the luxury of desire, and instead came to terms early on in life that you always had one asset to use at your disposal.
Not one time did you ever imagine being with a man out of affection or love.
"I apologize," you tried again after he had dried off and joined you. He had changed into a clean, white tunic and was clenching a similar one in his fist.
"You may use this," he said, ignoring your apology yet again. He thrusted the tunic towards you and you fumbled when you took it from his grasp. "The one you are wearing looks as if it might fall apart the moment you step outside and feel the sea breeze."
"Thank you," you murmured, fingertips brushing over the soft and expensive material in your lap.
"I will also call for more water tomorrow so you may wash yourself," he said before biting into a chunk of bread.
Your cheeks went hot with shame, still feeling guilt over the mercy and generosity he had shown you.
"I do not know what it is to desire someone," you said after a few quiet moments. Acacius continued to chew and kept his focus fixed on his plate. "I never imagined it would be a part of my life. May I remind you we come from different worlds."
He grunted in response but you noticed his shoulders begin to relax.
"I understand. But you must stop treating yourself as a whore. You are so much more than that, I have seen it with my own eyes. And to watch you debase yourself, to think so lowly of yourself, breaks my heart."
Your breath caught in your throat and you felt tears begin to well up, quickly threatening to spill down your cheeks. How could you have been so wrong? How could you not see the man for who he really was? He was a man who was gentle, kindhearted, protective and most importantly, cared very deeply for you. To what extent, you were unsure, but if he wanted you to desire him and he saved you from being used by countless other men, he certainly must have harbored stronger feelings than you ever thought possible.
"Alright."
His dark eyes flicked up to yours when you spoke.
"I will not debase myself," you said flatly. The corner of his mouth twitched before he looked back down at his food.
"Very well. I am pleased that has been sorted," he replied before shoving his plate off to the side and standing to collect the cups and dice. "Shall we play a few rounds before bed?"
You grinned and nodded, gathering up your plates and dumping them in the water by the door to clean later before joining him back at the table. And somehow, the awkwardness from the evening faded away after a few rolls of the dice.
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It had been two weeks docked off shore on some foreign land. You hadn't left his room in over a month and you were beginning to feel insane. You told him as much early one morning when he was dressing for battle. It was still dark outside. Acacius had mentioned he wanted to arrive on shore before dawn so that he might get into position under the cover of night.
"When I return tonight, I will take you up on the deck for some fresh air," he promised as he cinched up his armor. "Do not leave this room when I am not here."
"Why not? Are your men not with you during the daytime?" you asked from his bed.
"It is not my men I worry about," he explained, sheathing his sword after lacing up his sandals.
"Then what do you worry for?"
"I worry about everything," he confessed. His hand was on the doorknob poised to leave, but he stopped to turn to you one last time. "I do not trust the soldiers from this city not to try to climb aboard the ships whilst we are gone. It is important the ships appear empty."
You nodded in understanding before burrowing back in his sheets and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you looking comfortable and radiant in his bed.
"Behave, my dove, and we may dine on the deck tonight," he said, making you smile wide. He slipped quietly out of his room and locked the door behind him, fearful if he lingered any longer, he may not leave the ship the whole day.
You spent the afternoon reading and bathing and cleaning the general's dirty clothes in the extra water he had brought up after he left. You weren't sure how it happened, but the two of you had fallen into a life of domesticity amidst war without even sharing so much as a kiss.
What surprised you the most was you enjoyed it. You enjoyed tending to his things and cleaning what you could during the day, and then caring for him at night when he returned all bloodied and tired.
It had not once crossed your mind that he may not return until it happened.
That night, you saw the lanterns bobbing over the water, your signal to begin heating up his water for a bath. Your hair smelled like the expensive oils you poured into his water from your own bath earlier. You smiled to yourself when you thought of smelling like him, and him of you.
Heavy footsteps landed on the wooden floorboards above your head and outside your door. At first, nothing seemed amiss. Acacius usually didn't come to his room right away. He typically visited the wounded soldiers in the infirmary, making sure they were well tended to and fed before doing his rounds, assigning a night crew, and then finally gathering food for you both before retiring for the evening.
But more time passed than usual. You could tell because your stomach began to rumble and his water grew lukewarm. You paced around the room, ears straining to hear the voices from the other soldiers, trying to discern anything from their muffled conversations.
It wasn't until two hours went by that you heard a sharp rap at the door and a man's voice echoing on the other side, announcing he brought you food.
Your blood went cold and you wondered if you should open the door, but then you remembered Acacius told you he wasn't worried about his own men, the underlying message being that his soldiers would never touch what was his. So after a moment's hesitation, you swung open the door.
"Here," a young man said, shoving one plate of food towards you. His face was stained with dried blood and dirt and you frowned before taking the food and thanking him softly.
"Where is the general?" you asked timidly.
"He fell in battle," he grumbled before turning away. Your heart plummeted as you reached out and grabbed his shoulder, taking him by surprise.
"What do you mean?" you exclaimed. Fear and adrenaline mixed with something foreign coursed through your veins as you felt your lower lip tremble. The solider shook you off with disgust before stepping back.
"He was struck down. Last I saw of him he was lying still on the battlefield."
When he saw the look of despair on your face, he took pity on you.
"Others were assisting him, his body will return to Rome," he assured you before giving you a firm nod and disappearing down the long hall, leaving you to collapse into a fit of sobs behind the locked door.
The feeling you had in your chest was similar to the way you felt when your father passed, but something was different. It felt like a piece of you went dark, like you may never smile or laugh ever again. Grief consumed every fiber of your being and you found yourself crawling into his bed, face streaked with tears so thick you could hardly see your hands reach for his pillow. You pulled it tightly against your chest and you curled up around it, muffling your wails until your head began to pound and your body felt weak.
You drifted in and out of sleep, tossing and turning until the room grew cold and the fire dissolved into embers. You stood and wrapped a blanket around yourself, sniffling and shuffling over to the fire to stoke the flames wearing the general's spare tunic he had gifted you. After a few minutes, the fire roared back to life and you sat back with a heavy sigh.
Just as you were wondering what you would do come morning and how you would ever be able to move on without him, you heard footsteps approaching. You whipped around in fear and tightened your grip on the blanket. With the general no longer around to protect you, you had assumed the other men would eventually come looking for you, but you had to admit you didn't expect it so fast.
You curled yourself into a ball on your old bench, staring at the doorknob, expecting to see it jiggle and eventually forced open from the other side, but to your surprise the lock clicked quietly and the door slowly creaked open.
When you saw the general appear, limping and bloodied but still alive, you practically screamed. You jumped to your feet and rushed over, moments away from throwing yourself into his arms before you caught yourself.
"Acacius," you whispered in disbelief, the informality slipping easily past your lips for the very first time. He gave you a tired smile and locked the door behind him.
"I apologize for missing dinner," he said. You laughed as two fresh tears trickled down your cheeks. Your hands hovered nervously over his armor as if you weren't sure where you could touch him.
"Apology accepted," you replied before gingerly unhooking the armor around his shoulders. He groaned with relief when you lifted the heavy metal off him and set it against the wall by the door to polish another time. When you turned back around, you gasped at the blood that had seeped through his tunic, staining the yellow fabric a dark red.
"You are hurt," you whimpered, then hurried around his room for clean cloths, healing oils, and salves he kept in his desk. "Take that off and sit down. Allow me to tend to your wound."
He wordlessly lifted the ruined tunic over his head, wincing slightly when the wound at his side pulled, and he sat down at the table just as you instructed. You collected some of the unused water from his bath and set it over the flames to warm up before scooping up some more and setting it on the table next to him.
"They stemmed the bleeding on the boat," he explained. "It just needs to be cleaned and perhaps -"
"I will handle this. You just rest and eat," you told him, pushing your plate of uneaten food in his direction. His eyes fell onto the food and he frowned.
"It is untouched," he said, "why did you not eat?"
"How could I when I thought you were dead?" you snapped as you brought a soaked rag to his side and began to gently pat at the nasty looking gash.
Acacius took a bite of food, the flavors melting onto his tongue and making him groan. He didn't realize how hungry he was and before he knew it, he had eaten all of the food except for the grapes. You were leaning across his lap, bandaging up his wound with intense focus. He sighed contentedly, basking in the warmth from the fire and the soft touch of your hand on his skin. He could already feel his strength beginning to return.
"That should hold," you said, sitting upright to inspect your work. He glanced down and raised his eyebrows at the neat little bandage you had adhered to his wound.
"You did a very good job. Where did you learn such things?"
You shrugged and began to clean up the salves and oils. "On a farm, many accidents happen. You learn quickly how to tend to a wound."
He smiled and sipped from the wine you had poured for him while watching you move around the room, disposing of his soiled clothes and rags and then bringing the bucket of warm water over to the table with a fresh cloth.
When you pulled the other chair closer and sat, fitting your legs between his knees so you could reach him, he began to protest.
"You do not need to -"
"I want to," you said, cutting him off with a warm, wet cloth on his aching shoulders. His eyelids fluttered with a groan, leaning back into his chair and giving in. It felt so wonderful to be washed by your hand, to have you so close and safe while tenderly caring for him. It was all he had been dreaming about for years, ever since the first day he saw you at the market.
"So many scars," you whispered, swiping the cloth down his broad, strong chest. His breathing stuttered when you reached his stomach and he tensed.
"I have been in many battles," he murmured with his eyes still closed. You hummed to yourself and continued to work, diligently and carefully scrubbing away the layers of blood and grime until you cleaned everything you could see.
"Can you lean forward, General?" you asked, "I would like to cleanse your back."
He nodded and with a grunt, sat upright so he could lean forward. You stood from your chair and positioned yourself behind him, taking great care with every swipe of your cloth, afraid of unearthing a new wound under all the filth.
"Back to general now, are we?" he asked.
Your hand paused on his shoulder blade. He sensed your confusion and he chuckled.
"When I first arrived, you called me Acacius," he explained.
"Oh," you breathed before continuing your work. "That was disrespectful, I -"
"No, I quite liked it," he said before you could finish apologizing. "You may call me Marcus when we are alone, if you prefer."
Your eyes widened and although he couldn't see you, he could tell you were surprised.
"That would be highly irregular," you finally said softly, putting down the wet cloth and picking up a bottle of perfumed oil. You sprinkled a few drops into your palm and you rubbed your hands together. "That name should only be used by those closest to you."
He opened his mouth to respond but when your slick hands found his shoulders and your fingers began to dig into the knots in his muscles, he moaned and felt himself go lax.
"Oh gods, that feels incredible," he rasped. The deep timber of his voice sent a wave of arousal right to your core. You continued to work on his back and shoulders, privately marveling at his broad frame and firm muscles under his scarred, bronzed skin. He was truly something to behold. So strong, handsome, and fearless. Yet also kind and gentle. The proximity of his body and the ricocheting emotions you had experienced that evening had you reacting to him in a way you never had before. It was confusing and strange yet also exciting, and the noises you were drawing from his mouth with every roll of your thumbs was causing a dull ache to form between your thighs.
You blinked and cleared your throat, trying to shake the heavy curtain of lust that clung to you.
"What happened out there? One of your men informed me you were dead."
Marcus sighed and sat up straight, the angle causing you to drop your hands from his tight shoulders. One of his massive hands reached back to take yours so he could lead you to stand in front of him, between his knees.
"They had called a truce. They requested to discuss terms of surrender, so I called off my men and went to speak with their king," he began, his hand still engulfing your own as he gazed up at you with his soft, dark eyes. "It was a trap. They ambushed me when I got out of range. It must have been twenty of them," he continued solemnly, his thumb brushing against your wrist as he spoke. "I slayed them all, one by one, but once I took down their final solider, an archer took aim from the wall. I was able to dodge the arrow but I was not quick enough," he chuckled and looked down at his wound. "I am not the young man I once was."
"I cried for hours," you admitted quietly. His eyes darted up to yours again, holding his breath as you spoke. "I had never considered you would not return to me at the end of the day. However, when I got word you had died-"
You paused when a sob got lodged in your throat. You knit your brows together, hoping to stave off your tears while Marcus patiently waited. Eventually, you gave him a watery smile and lifted your free hand to cup his cheek.
"I felt a grief I never thought I would feel again," you said, voice shaking. His eyes searched your face, watching the way your anguish rolled through you at the memory. He swallowed tightly and, with his other hand, gently gripped your waist.
"Tell me," he whispered, "did you feel these things only because you feared for your safety if I was not here?"
You shook your head as one singular tear trickled down your cheek.
"No," you breathed, "it was because I felt like a part of me died, too. Because I could not imagine my life without you."
When you saw the joyful look in his eye, you quickly closed the remaining distance between you, leaning down the rest of the way and slanting your mouth desperately over his. He moaned and dropped your hand so he could cup the back of your neck, pulling you even closer so you were forced to straddle his lap.
"Do you know what you do to me?" he groaned amid kisses that were growing increasingly messy as the heat between you grew. "How badly I want you? How long I have waited?"
Your mind was blank. You couldn't think of a single thing to say, but Marcus didn't give you a chance to respond, anyway. His tongue slipped past your lips, greedily swirling in tandem with yours and forcing your jaw to open wider. The hand on your waist dropped to flatten against your lower back and he pressed you forward so not even a sliver of moonlight could sneak between your bodies.
Underneath your gifted tunic, you were bare. When you joined the other whores all those weeks ago, they told you there was no use for undergarments, that the men would just destroy them if you bothered to wear any, so just like all the others, you never did. It had never been a problem until that very moment, when Marcus had you writhing in his lap, hips stretched wide and cunt free to rub against his thigh. When you first made contact with his leg, the firm muscle brushing against your sensitive clit, you jumped in his lap and moaned into his mouth.
"Tell me, sweet thing," he murmured when he finally broke the kiss. You were panting heavily, eyelids drooping with need as you gazed down at him. "I know you have not sold yourself to a man, but have you ever laid with one before?"
You shook your head and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, holding him close. His lips brushed up against your throat and he began to suck on the sensitive skin there as both of his hands fell to your hips. Gently, he rocked you back and forth, sliding your slick, bare cunt over his thigh. He heard you sigh and smiled against your skin when your head dipped backwards in pleasure.
"Does that feel good?"
"Yes," you whispered, voice raspy and thick. "Oh, yes, it feels... heavenly," you told him with a sigh.
"Good," he grunted, "keep going. Do not stop until you come. I will need you soft and wet before you take my cock."
"Yes, General," you replied obediently, making his cock jump behind his thin loincloth.
Marcus tugged at the back of your loose tunic, stretching the material across your breasts so your hardened nipples poked through. With a low growl, he lunged forward and wrapped his mouth around one, cloth and all. His teeth added a surprisingly tantalizing amount of pressure that had you gasping for air as your hips quickened their pace over his thigh. You must have been leaving streaks of arousal all over him but something told you he didn't mind.
"You desire me, yes?" he questioned when he switched his attention to your other breast. You nodded feverishly, face tilted towards the ceiling as you chased your pleasure.
"Yes," you gasped, "yes, Ge- Marcus."
He groaned so loudly you thought he might wake up the whole ship.
"Fuck, say that again."
You smiled and circled your hips faster, grinding down onto his thick leg. You were so close, you could taste it.
"Marcus," you whined, "oh, Marcus. I cannot wait to feel you inside of me. I just know you will make me feel so good, will you not?"
Suddenly, his hand was back on your neck and his mouth was pressed tightly against the underside of your jaw, not unlike a wild animal pinning his prey against his sharp fangs. You could feel his hot puffs of air fanning across your skin and his teeth scraping your throat. His intensity might have frightened you if you weren't on the brink of an earth shattering orgasm.
"I will make you feel so good, you will never want to take another lover again," he said darkly. The hairs on your arms stood up but you continued to rut yourself as fast as you could against his thigh, your own chest heaving as you fought for air. "And if I have it my way, you never will," he added.
His words were what tipped you over the edge. You cried out his name and clutched at his shoulders for support as your orgasm rolled through you, covering him with your slick.
Your body was still trembling in his arms when he lifted you up and carried you to the bed. You blinked rapidly in response, poised to argue with him about potentially reopening his wound, but before you could get a single word out he had tossed you onto the sheets and climbed on top of you, caging you in.
"Before I ravish you, my sweet, what do you know of coupling?"
You scoffed. "I am no fool, I know how it works."
Marcus chuckled at your snark and sat back on his heels to peel your tunic over your head, exposing yourself entirely to him. A groan rumbled through his wide, bare chest as he stared down at you hungrily, all spread out and ready for him.
"I cannot lie. Ever since you first stood before me naked, your beautiful body has consumed my every waking thought."
"It shows incredible restraint, then, for you to share a bed with me each night," you teased, eyes dancing playfully as he stripped himself of his loincloth.
"You have no idea," he growled, falling back onto his forearms. The tip of his nose nudged against yours affectionately. "I have waited years for this, my sweet."
The idea of any man pining after you, let alone the mighty General of Rome, was a strange and foreign concept.
"I am just the daughter of a poor farmer," you muttered, fingers brushing his peppered curls behind his ear.
"Your station means very little to me," he replied, looking down between your bodies so he could notch the thick head of his cock at your opening. "The heart wants what the heart wants."
Your pulse quickened when you felt the slight bit of pressure he applied. Knowing how it worked was one thing, experiencing it for the first time was another.
"I-I was told it may hurt," you said meekly. Marcus's eyes found yours and he tenderly cupped your jaw.
"Yes, that is true, but I promise it will not last long," he assured you. You swallowed and nodded before spreading your legs wider and hooking your ankles around the backs of his thighs.
"Tell me if it is too much," he murmured. He pressed your foreheads together, lips hovering above yours, ready to soothe you from the pain.
"Go on, then," you said bravely.
Slowly, he breeched your opening and sunk one inch inside of you. You gasped and dug your heels harder into his thighs, but Marcus held steady.
"Speak," he demanded after a few seconds of listening to your heavy breathing.
"It stings," you admitted, "but it is not... unpleasant."
He nodded and pecked a chaste kiss against your lips before giving you another inch. You whined and squirmed a bit but once you settled, he took it as his cue to continue. It went just like that until he finally found himself fully seated inside of your tight heat.
"The worst is over, my sweet," he told you.
You wiggled underneath him, moving this way and that until you got used to the feeling of him inside you. Your hands wrapped around the backs of his biceps and you stretched your neck so you could bite and nip playfully at his prickly jaw.
"I enjoy being full of you," you admitted shyly, eliciting a grunt from the back of his throat.
"Good," he grumbled before drawing back his hips and slowly easing himself back inside your warmth. "Because I intend on having you full of me as much as possible. I fear I will never have enough now that you have given me a taste."
Your jaw dropped open when he began to move faster, gently and steadily working you open, carving a space for himself inside of you forever. The only thing you wanted was to have him as close as you could, so you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face against his neck, molding your bodies together as one.
"My sweet girl," he panted, mouth hunting for yours. "You feel better than I ever dreamed. So fucking tight and wet. I cannot believe my fortune, that you would give yourself to me. I wonder if I did indeed die in battle and have ascended to the heavens."
The stretch was divine, his heavy length dragging in and out of you and nudging against a spot that made your stomach clench and your head grow fuzzy.
"Do not say such things," you scolded him breathlessly. His hips stilled for a moment, waiting for you to continue. "Do not jest about your death. My heart cannot handle it."
His eyes softened and his mouth crashed against yours with a groan, overcome that you would feel so strongly for him. He began to roll his hips again but kept his mouth latched onto yours, swallowing down your whimpers and moans.
"I will never leave you," he whispered against your lips. His thrusts grew quicker but he tried his best to be careful and not drive himself too deep for fear of causing you pain. "I will always return now that I have you waiting for me. I shall be invincible in battle."
You laughed lightly, dragging your mouth down his throat and tasting his freshly perfumed skin.
"Was that all it took for you to become immortal?" you teased.
"Yes," he hissed, "a cunt as snug and perfect as yours is all a man needs to give him purpose."
His hand slithered between your back and sheets, pressing his palm firmly against your spine so you arched underneath him. His knees spread wider so he could get better leverage, and he began to roughly snap his hips. You gasped and grabbed onto his hair, giving it a sharp tug and making him groan. It was lewd yet somehow romantic, hearing the sound of your skin slapping together in the otherwise quiet room.
"Does it hurt?" he managed to ask through clenched teeth.
"No," you whimpered inbetween the soft moans he drew every time his cock slammed back into you. "Oh gods, Marcus, please-"
"What do you need, my love?"
He sounded breathless, his voice slightly strained, and your chest burst with pride. You loved the idea of being the one who made such a strong man so very weak.
"I- I am not sure," you admitted truthfully. "It feels so wonderful, but it is different than before."
As it turned out, you didn't need to figure out what you needed because Marcus knew. Somehow, he managed to know your body better than you. He knew how to make it sing and thrum just for him.
His hand snuck between your bodies and the pad of his thumb found your clit. He rubbed firm, slow circles over the sensitive bud, and his name instantly flew from your mouth, loud and wild. You likely could be heard from shore, but Marcus never shushed you. In fact, he smiled and worked his thumb faster, drawing out more delicious moans with every stroke.
"You are so beautiful," he murmured while sucking a mark into your neck. He could feel your lower belly begin to tense and heard your breath waver, so he circled his hips faster, cock greedily plunging in and out of your soaked cunt, chasing his release with reckless abandon now that he could feel you were close.
"I have obsessed over you for years. Dreamed of having you all to myself, just like this," he continued. He could sense his words had a great effect on you. Your walls fluttered and pulsed around him when he admitted his deepest secrets, so he kept talking.
"Long nights spent on the cold ground in the middle of war, I would dream of you. I would wonder what you would be doing back in Rome. I would pray you did not find a husband while I was away."
Marcus gasped when your cunt gripped around him so tightly that it took his breath away. "The thought of you belonging to another was enough to drive me insane," he groaned before capturing your lips with his.
"I am yours," you rasped when he pulled away, and when your eyes locked, he could see the adoration he felt for you reflected right back. "For as long as you will have me, I am yours."
Marcus's eyes slid closed in bliss after hearing the words he so longed to hear. "Come for me, my love. Come for me and when we return home, I shall make you my wife. I will take care of you. I promise you will never go hungry again."
Your hands grappled with the back of his head, fingers threading through his unruly locks as you pulled him down for a searing kiss. He muffled the sounds of your orgasm, cries of his name dying in your throat while your body bucked wildly beneath him.
It only took a few moments before he joined you. With his hand roughly squeezing your hip, he yanked you towards him. His body stilled, pumping you full of his seed while your tongues danced together in tandem until his shoulders sagged and you began to shake.
Marcus flicked the sheets so he could toss them over your trembling bodies. He planted kisses along the side of your head and jaw, then brushed the hair away from your face until your breathing leveled and your eyes reopened.
"Are you alright?"
You nodded and gave him a weak smile. "I am tired."
Marcus withdrew his hips, sliding his softening cock out from your clutch. You cried out in pain and he instantly jolted out of bed to soak a clean rag in some leftover warm water, then hurried back to press it between your legs.
"Better?"
"Yes," you sighed. "Thank you."
He gave you a quick kiss and slid back under the covers. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest so he could nuzzle your hair and murmur sweet nothings in your ear.
"Must you leave me in the morning? Can you not spend just one day recovering from your wound?"
Marcus kissed your bare shoulder and shook his head.
"The war is almost done. Tomorrow, I will make them surrender so we may sail home and start our life together."
You grinned and burrowed deeper under the covers. "Did you mean that?"
"What is that, my love?"
"When you said you would make me your wife," you said sheepishly. "Or was that just your mind getting lost to desire?"
"No, I meant every word," he said before rolling over and snuffing out the candle next to the bed. "When we return to Rome, I will make you my bride. You will bear my children and I will watch them play in the garden with you by my side."
You hummed and closed your eyes. "That sounds lovely."
You had very little idea of the politics in Rome and how the highest ranking general of the Roman army could possibly announce he was going to wed a poor farmer's daughter, but you knew deep down if Marcus wanted it, he would somehow make it happen. You knew this because his determination always won, on and off the battlefield.
After all, you were living proof of it.
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nomnomnamsworld · 2 months ago
Text
VOID SUCESS STORY
I KNOW I SAID IM TAKING A BREAK BUT WTF I JUST INDUCED PURE CONSIOUSNESS I ENETERED THE VOID AWARE😭💞
IT HAD BEEN MORE THAN A FUCKING YEAR!
i spent months crying, struggling having panic attacks😭😭
i am literally so proud of myself for doing this..
but at the same time i feel stupid for complicating this 😭
i’ll enter it again now because i didn’t get to affirm 🌚 i was confused and was trying to figure out if this is the void or not🌚
i have been here for more than a year, i have had so many mental breakdowns 😭 i can’t believe this happened 😭😭
i genuinely don’t know what to say.
the process:
affirmed “i am��� casually through out the day (idk if this step is important)
now while attempting don’t day dream. instead focus on your breath.
only your breath. how it touched your nose and how is leaves your nose.
then remember how you’re just a soul ok? you’re not the body, when you DIE YOU LEAVE THE BODY. i remembered my mom saying how she saw my grandmas breathe stopping.. this hit me so hard just now.
it didn’t even take long. put all your focus on your breth. then you’ll feel everything getting white. like you’re in a white room.
ignore that and continue FOCUSING ON YOUR BREATH.
you’ll feel so fucking weird after that. like you’re not breathing anymore. you’ll realise you can’t feel anything. LIKE SO FREAKING WEIRD.
this is my biggest success till date. because i felt it so hard
idk if i affirmed in the state or after exiting tho
BUT THE VOID IS REAL YALLL
FOCUS ON THE BREATH NOTHING ELSE. and relax.
I CANT BELIEVE IM WROTING THIS.
major thanks to all the bloggers.
@gorgeouslypink for introducing me to this(i saw her post)
@adambja for being kind enough to help me during such a rough fuckinv time. i was so depressed and desperate at that time but she reached out to and helped me so much. im crying as i write this
@b4ddprincess and @luvmanifesting for emphasing on pure consciousness and relaxing
@beesfairlyland and @blackbutterfly0309 for being my friends in this journey and helping me so much. I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH.
im half asleep right now. i’ll wake up and share more🤞
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obsessivevoidkitten · 3 months ago
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Pollen and Pheromones
Kinktober Day 13: Sex Pollen
Male Alpha Yandere x Gender Neutral Omega Reader CW: Noncon, sex pollen, aphrodisiac, pheromones, knotting, biting, claiming bite, stranded, spaceship crash, sci-fi, outer space, alien planet, a/b/o dynamics, bigotry/prejudice against omegas, rivalry, breeding, general yandere behavior, tsundere, betrayal Word Count: 1.6k (Enjoy this kinktober meal I have prepared <3)
"Star log: This is Pilot 2418 currently operating vessel Starlion: Orion. I am currently on route to pass the threshold of our galaxy in less than five minutes."
You were a shuttle pilot, one of the Exploration Guild's best. Ever since humanity had achieved interplanetary travel, they had sought to extend themselves ever further. With the new drift-space drives, that dream was now a reality.
They were only currently suited for small 1 to 2 man shuttlecraft, and only a couple such craft had been made. Two different ones had been commissioned through the guild, with both pilots competing to see who could exit the Milky Way first. The new drive could only be used in bursts to prevent overloading, so the journey had still taken a few months. But it seemed like you were about to succeed. Then you could make a U-turn and start drift-jumping back towards the nearest station.
Since you were an omega, this was a great achievement, a notice to the universe that your kind could do whatever betas and alphas could. You would be able to help stamp out the lingering bigotry and inspire others all with one action.
You were just about to cross the finish line!
Suddenly, your opponent, Tetsunori, came out of drift-space behind you. He had been your long-time rival, with both of you being about equally skilled.
But this was unacceptable to him as he was an alpha and held to the knothead mindset that an omega's place was bouncing on an alpha's prick or maybe in a teaching or nursing job.
You weren't worried, though. You had a solid lead. There was no way he could close the gap.
You rolled your eyes at the incoming transmission.
"Why don't you just give up now? If you surrender nicely, I'll let you celebrate my victory by letting you keep my knot warm!"
The temptation to reply was too great.
"Ha! You may be good at navigating the stars, but I doubt you have ever found your way into an omega."
Conversing with him hadn't distracted you or made you pause, so he growled as he switched to another plan. He fired on his tractor beam.
What the fuck, was he insane? Stooping so low to make sure you couldn't have a historic moment? You fired an equal and opposite tractor beam through his, which forced him to disengage. Something only possible because both ships were similar in size and energy output. Did he think you were some amateur?
In a desperate bid to prevent you from winning, Tetsunori rammed his shuttle into yours.
This type of bumping wasn't unheard of. It wasn't lethal if both ships were similar and had their shields up. But the bouncing was pretty strong for both parties, which is why it was a last-ditch effort. It could push you past the line, or it could bump him further. Neither of those things happened, though.
Instead, you careened right into the gravitational pull off a planet. You did everything you could to slow down and stabilize, but nothing seemed to be working.
Tetsunori sped after you in his spacecraft as he spoke into the comm link.
"I'm sorry, oh my god, I'm so sorry! I just had to be first! What omega would want to be mates with someone who they bested??"
You didn't have time for his weird ass confession and barely registered it. Your shields were still online and he had started pulsing his tractor beam to slow you down, full usage of it at such speeds could rip your ship apart, thankfully he wasn't an amateur either and knew that.
You put all available power and quickly put it into overloading the shields. You hit the emergency crash button, and two nozzles came out from the sides of the cockpit and sprayed you with a rapidly drying foam that would reduce damage to you if you got flung about the ship. Tetsunori's reckless and speedy entry into the atmosphere may have been enough to save you, but he had lost control of his vessel as well.
As you crashed, he careened away and crash-landed as well.
It was a good thing the high-tech impact reduction foam was so effective. Despite having shields, the ship was still shaken pretty badly, and the inertial dampeners weren't powerful enough to thwart damage from such a landing.
You took stock of the condition of your systems.
Almost everything was fried. You could at least scan the planet. It seemed like you had actually lucked out. In the entire galaxy planets that supported life were incredibly rare. But you had landed on one.
It seemed there were no known biological hazards present. No recognized toxins, dangerous bacteria, or viral agents. You were cleared to remove your suit. The temporary foam had started to dissolve, so it wasn't hard to remove.
The scanner also indicated there was a strong human life sign. It appeared that Tetsunori was okay.
You took the survival kit from underneath your seat as well as some beverages and rations you had procured at the last station and headed in the direction of dust and smoke in the distance.
You didn't even need the ship's scanner to tell you that the great imbecile, Tetsunori had landed there.
As you got closer, you stepped into a field of flowers that surrounded the entire crash site. You were probably still a mile away, but all around you were odd glittery silver and gold flowers.
The smell of them made you just slightly lightheaded and tingly. You realized the tiniest bit of slick was dribbling down your leg. They must be an aphrodisiac. The scanner hadn't warned you of anything in the air that was truly dangerous, so it probably wouldn't matter very much. And it really didn't. For you. As you trudged through the flowers and pollen, the effects did not get worse.
But for Tetsunori, the pollen was much stronger. When it hit his nostrils, it immediately put him into rut. Not a typical rut either, one of the ruts you see in pornos where the alpha is almost feral and unable to control their mating drive. When you came upon him, he was sitting on a piece of debris from his shit and rocking back and forth in clear distress. Through his outfit, his bulge was immediately visible.
"T-tetsunori? Uh... are you okay? D-did you get hurt in the crash?"
You took a step back when he looked up at you. His eyes were red, giving him a demonic appearance.
"The flowers, I think... they... UGH! My thoughts are all jumbled..."
He started to rub and massage his crotch desperately. He finally caught a whiff of your scent, ripe from the recent hike over to him and from being without a proper shower since your last space station stop. Not to mention the smell of the slick the aphrodisiac had coaxed out of you.
He started wildly sniffing at the air.
"Y-you smell so nice. You can help!"
You started backing away slowly.
"Uh... help with what?"
He got up and closed the difference between the two of you. Sweat had his dark hair clinging to his head. He was significantly taller and looked down at you intensely before sniffing and licking your neck with lazy broad strokes.
"S-smell so gooood. Always wanted to knot youuuu~"
You tried to push him off.
"Tetsunori! St-stop!"
You slapped, smacked, kicked, punched, and flailed, but nothing you did deterred him in the slightest.
"I'm sorry, but I fucking n-need this!"
He pinned you to the ground, clawing and biting off all your clothing until only your underwear was left, he removed it more delicately before inhaling its scent deeply and putting it in his pocket for later.
"Please don't do this, Tetsunori, PLEASE!"
He looked down at you, and it seemed like he was genuinely trying to resist before the pollen-charged rut won out.
Tetsunori unzipped his pants and let his drooling cock and full heavy balls out.
"G-gonna put all my babies in you! Have to! Have to!"
The lust-drunk alpha wasted no more time in ramming into you, an insertion that would have been more difficult had the pollen not slicked you up. Though it was still sudden and slightly painful.
"A-aaah!"
You tried to kick at him, but he growled viciously before pushing you into a mating press and slobbering all over your neck with his eager tongue.
The pollen must have increased the potency of his pheromones, or at least your susceptibility to them, because his musk was starting to cloud your thoughts.
Your grunts of pain became gasps of pleasure as your body quickly accommodated to his large size. You winced as he bit down hard on your neck to claim you. He kept right on fucking into you without skipping a beat.
He licked and kissed the lightly bleeding bite mark, some part of him remembering to comfort you despite his dominating need to fill you with cock. And by that point, the last of your resistance finally melted away.
"T-tetsunoriiiiii~" You moaned as your toes curled and body twitched in orgasm.
He growled your name in response and gave a few hard, deep thrusts before cumming as deeply as possible.
A comforting fullness filled your hole as his knot locked the two of you together. He pulled you close as he sat down so that you were in his lap facing him. The two of you caught your breath, then remained in an awkward silence until his knot deflated.
"G-got it out of your system?"
"Yeah... for the most part... sorry about that..."
You lifted yourself off of his lap, his half hard cock springing free with a lewd plopping sound.
"Well... it wasn't your fault. It was just the pollen..."
He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into his lap, his cock ramming directly into you, then began humping.
"Well... it wasn't just the pollen..."
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moonlightrafe · 7 months ago
Text
My Sister’s Keeper
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summary: Aemond intends to send you away to protect you after he starts the war, but Aegon isn't ready to let you go.
pairing: Aegon & Aemond x Sister!Reader
word count: 1.8k
warnings: Explicit smut, mention of death, incest, threesome, p in v sex, oral (m&f receiving), voyeurism, male masturbation, infidelity (reader is married to Aemond), lactation kink, choking, cum play/eating, spit, Aegond kiss!! (oop) 18+ MDNI
note: Uhhhh. I'm sorry??? I feel like I just breezed through this, idk I was horny lol. Feedback is appreciated!
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You’ll never forget the look on Aemond’s face when he first arrived back to the Red Keep from his journey to Storm’s End. Your family was desperate in the inevitable, upcoming war against Rhaenyra so Aemond had been sent to help strike up a proposal between one of Lord Borros’ daughters and the youngest son of the late king Viserys, Daeron Targaryen.
Sitting in the large bed of your shared chamber, you had been anxiously awaiting his arrival, chewing your fingernails down to bloody nubs.
“Aemond!” you practically leapt into his arms when he appeared sopping wet in the doorway. Overjoyed to see he’d returned in one piece, but something was off, something was wrong. He was vacant, like he had seen a ghost.
“Lucerys Velaryon is dead.”
With that simple sentence you knew your lives would be changed forever.
“You cannot just make me disappear,” you said to your husband through gritted teeth, as your voice trembled, lump in your throat forming as tears threatened to fall from your eyes.
“If we are not here they will just go looking for us.”
“Anywhere is safer than here, my love.” Aemond answered coolly.
“If you think this decision was not difficult to make, you are wrong. It is simply what's best for the both of you. You and the babe will be staying in Dorne until I know for certain that it is safe for you here.”
“But –”
“But nothing! This is not up for debate,” he growled at you, “the decision has been made and it is final!” His words cut through you like a knife.
“You cannot make a decision like this. You are not the king.”
“No “ he retorted, “but I am your husband, therefore, when it comes to you and my child, what I say goes!”
You got up and exited your shared chambers with haste, not wanting Aemond to see you cry.
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Your bare feet padded against the cold stone floor of the Red Keep, the walls echoed and groaned as you made your way to your eldest brother’s chambers.
Aegon’s head perked up when he heard you come in. He stared at you sheepishly from behind his goblet of wine.
“Has he told you?”
Letting out a deep sigh, “he has.”
“I cannot leave you. I will not leave you, Aegon.”
“I know, I know,” he says, patting the spot next to him, motioning for you to come and sit.
“Our half-sister is unpredictable,” he replied calmly, “there’s no telling what she might do… not to mention, Daemon.”
As much as you did not want to admit it, both of your brothers were right. Accident or not, Rhaneyra’s son was dead. You would be a fool to believe she wouldn’t be out for blood.
Aegon pulled you into his lap, his cock already half hard. You kissed him deeply as he grinded his hips up into yours. You ran your fingers through his unruly silver hair, enjoying the feel of his mouth on you. Completely lost in the moment, you hadn’t heard Aemond enter the room.
He cleared his throat loudly to make his presence known.
“Aemond!”
Your brother-husband stalked into the room, his violet eye scanning over you with amusement.
“Oh please, do continue.”
Your chest rose and fell as you struggled to find the right words to say.
“Did you not hear me? I said continue,” Aemond repeated, as he approached you and Aegon.
“Aemond, this is not what it looks like —“
His brow furrowed at you as he gripped your chin forcing you to look him directly in the eye.
“Do you mistake me for a fool? You believed me to be unaware of your little arrangement?”
Still at a loss for words, you and Aegon just stared at your brother nervously. Aemond moved away a few inches and started to remove his tunic and his trousers. His cock strained hard against his small clothes, which he removed not long after. You gawked at him as he pumped his cock in his left hand, making his way back to you.
Aegon’s violet eyes beamed with excitement at this, pupils blown with lust. He took no time to nip at your neck, your earlobes, grinding against your core once again.
“I fear this is inappropriate,” you began.
“What’s inappropriate is you sneaking away from your husband to come fuck this wastrel,” Aemond began, his words thick with venom.
“Clearly, you want the both of us. So have us… while you still can.”
A slight moan left your lips as you tilted your head to the side, allowing Aegon easier access to your throat, your gaze never leaving Aemond’s, his expression unreadable as he nodded his head at you.
Aemond had his hand wrapped tightly around his cock, the tip bright red, lushed and angry, his arousal already dripping from the tip.
Aegon leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, and began to suck harshly. Being that your babe was only two months old, you were lactating. A loud moan escaped your lips as you felt the milk begin to flow.
“Fuck,” you breathed out, “just like that. You’re doing so good.”
You could feel his cock twitching against your leg at your praise as he continued to ravenously lap at your breast.
As he switched to your other breast he sucked harder at your stiffened peak, the milk coming almost instantly. He palmed your abandoned breast with his large hand, squeezing gently. Shivers ran down your spine as the sweet feeling of relief washed over you once again.
A growl erupted from Aemond’s throat and he unexpectedly pulled Aegon away from your chest. To your utter surprise, he crashed his lips against Aegon’s, tasting your milk on his tongue. You watched with bewilderment as your husband passionately kissed your brother, tugging at his unruly hair, moaning into his mouth. Arousal seeped from your core and onto Aegon’s thighs. Aemond broke the kiss abruptly and stared at you.
Aegon’s hands gripped your waist, flipping you around so you were underneath him. Your eldest brother positioned you so you were laying on your back comfortably against the pillows. He nestled himself between your thighs and hastily hiked your nightgown up over your waist. You shivered as his warm breath fanned over your folds. Before you could blink his tongue was prodding at your entrance. Your hands flew to the back of his head on instinct, pulling him closer into your center.
Aemond approached you carefully. He tapped his cock against your lower lip a few times, a signal for you to open your mouth. Just as he did so, Aegon’s tongue had reached the right spot, causing your mouth to gape open as a loud moan escaped your lips. Aemond took this as an opportunity to forcefully shove his cock into your mouth. You felt a rush of pleasure as Aemond's cock filled your mouth. You began to suck and lick it, eager to make him moan even louder. Aegon's tongue continued to explore you as you pleasured Aemond, and you felt your body quiver with pleasure.
If you knew being with another man in his presence would have this effect on him, you would have brought your affair to light long ago.
With a low groan of your name he pumped in and out of your mouth mercilessly, the salty taste of his precum evading your tastebuds. The air left your lungs as you gagged around him. You could feel the pent up anger Aemond held for the entirety of the situation with each brutal buck of his hips. Ever so slowly he pulled back, giving the you the illusion he was going to give you a break. But before you were able to catch your breath, his cock found his way to the back of your throat again. The faster he went, tears began to stream down your face.
As bubbles of spit began to form around the corners of your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks to the best of your ability. With Aegon now three fingers knuckle deep in your cunt it was almost impossible for you to focus on Aemond; but as the pace of his thrusts quickened you knew he was going to cum soon. You moaned around his length, the vibrations making his cock twitch, you could feel every throb of the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock.
“No,” Aemond growled as he pulled himself from your throat, “I need to feel your cunt around me.”
Aemond all but shoved Aegon away from you, almost knocking him off the large bed. Aemond lined his cock up with your center and sheathed himself inside of you with quickness.
As Aegon now sat on the upper left corner of the bed, he watched intently as Aemond’s cock disappeared into you repeatedly. One hand tugged at his painfully hard cock and the other wiped the tears from your cheeks.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” he cooed, “look at how you take him so well,” he praised.
You nodded your head at him enthusiastically, pleasure overwhelming you. Aegon hooked his thumb into your mouth and you sucked and nipped at it intently.
There was no doubt that Aemond enjoyed the praise as well, snapping his hips even harder into your own. His cock bullied your sweet spot mercilessly. Your body tingled with a mix of pleasure and pain as Aemond's thrusts intensified; pressing hard against your cervix. His large hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing gently. The overwhelming sensation sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you, making it difficult to focus on anything else but the raw desire consuming your every thought.
“Fuck, Aemond, I’m going to cum!” you screamed as your hot waves of pleasure coursed through you.
Aegon watched intently as your orgasm wracked your entire frame, his own following not long after. He let out a loud groan as he came into his hand. He flashed an evil grin at Aemond as he brought his fingers to Aemond's mouth, shoving them down his throat.
Your husband gagged around his digits, sucking Aegon's release from them.
As the aftershock of your orgasm continued to pump though you, your cunt squeezed around Aemond’s cock. The depravity of it all overwhelmed him and Aemond cum with a shudder. With one final thrust and a loud grunt, he was spilling himself inside of you.
As Aegon removed his fingers from your husband's throat, Aemond leaned over you, his cock still buried deep inside you.
"Open up, baby," he said before spitting directly into your mouth, a mixture of his saliva and Aegon's cum evident on your tongue. You swallowed with a contented hum.
Aemond pulled himself out of you and got up quickly.
You curled up in the bed next to Aegon, Aemond’s seed seeping out of you onto the sheets, sleep finding you almost immediately.
“She can stay here for the night,” Aemond said as he leaned down to kiss your sweat-drenched forehead.
Aegon frowned at his brother.
“Aemond, we cannot make her leave,” he rasped, desperation clear in his voice.
“I think she needs to leave now more than ever, brother. To ensure nothing like this ever happens again.”
A loud sigh escaped Aegon’s lips as he diverted his gaze from Aemond to you, pushing your hair out of your face, admiring your beauty.
“Enjoy your time with her tonight. She will be on her way to Dorne by morning.”
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 5 months ago
Note
Ooo you’re doing Pressure!!
May I request an artist reader who, throughout the journey found some paper, pencil and made a little makeshift sketchbook and when later bought Sebastian’s document decided to try and draw him? Like maybe both when human and current (and maybe the monsters)? 
Perhaps he saw them sketching, got curious and decided to look through it when reader left it somewhere or just straight up snatched it and held it out of their reach and sees those sketches of him. Could be hurt/comfort or angst/fluff.
Of course you’re free to change any of the details but please keep it platonic TwT
Aw love this idea! And it works considering all the paper and notebooks in the drawers of the blacksite.
............
"Great, [y/n]. One moment, you're doing some harmless graffiti on a brick wall nobody cares about. And the next, you're risking your life for a stupid crystal in hopes you'll get a federal pardon.."
Sighing, you held onto the overhead handles within the sleek black submarine, feeling it shake and rumble as it breached the water's surface. And after hearing the chime, the door hissed and opened up, the platform extending out onto the dock of a place already familiar to you: Hadal Blacksite.
'No place like home..' As you stepped out of the submarine, you could hear HQ over the PDA system informing you of your objective in reaching the crystal and collecting any "loose assets" you find along the way...
As if you needed any reminders of what you were doing here.
Immediately, you unlocked the first door with the keycard and began your journey to room 100. Along the way, you found a good handful of research data. Nothing too special aside from folders, USB drives, and a couple blue DNA vials.
Then after narrowly dodging the Angler in one area and avoiding Eyefestation's gaze in the next, you reached a room requiring yet another keycard to exit. You checked the nearby office cubicle, finding it in the first drawer you opened.
But that isn't what made your eyes light up. Rather, it's what was right next to the card that did:
A brand new pencil to go with the sketchbook you've been carrying with you.
Because you weren't given the luxury of doodling while sitting in jail for over 90 days, you felt your creativity flames being snuffed out, leaving you itching to draw something again.
Before all of this, you had a decent following on social media with your art skills, and you could imagine that they're worried sick over your sudden absence. But you hoped that, if you survive and succeed in this mission, you'll be able to come back and reassure them that you're very much alive.
And perhaps show them what Urbanshade has been hiding from the public...that is to say the sea monsters that have taken up residence in the Blacksite since its lockdown, freely roaming and haunting nearly every room you step into.
With the makeshift sketchbook you had (and somehow kept even after death), you've filled its pages with simple and detailed sketches of each creature you encountered.
But you doubt that they would let you leave with physical evidence of entities nobody else in the world should know about...unless you somehow convinced the guards that they were "original characters" that so-happened to look like them, but you had a feeling that excuse wouldn't fly.
Regardless, they've given you tons of artistic inspiration, despite your many close-calls with them in pursuit of studying their features from afar.
Thanks to the files Sebastian Solace has shown you, you've learned how to safely observe the Angler from a distance and better remember their details. They were merely a grotesque face surrounded by smoke, so you didn't have to worry about drawing any limbs or tails (assuming they had those).
You encountered their variants so many times that you could recall the little things that made each them unique--like how Pinkie had four pupils, how Blitz was missing pupils in one socket completely, how Froger was..well..a big frog with lots of needle-shaped teeth, and Chainsmoker was a sluggish blobfish through all that smoke.
Making eye contact with Pandemonium was a death sentence..as you've already learned after trying (and failing) to safely observe him through a glass window. So you draw him as you see him in his file.
The Squiddles' "intimidating" faces were scary in the dark when you least expected them, but they served as amazing inspiration. You even had a page full of what faces you'd think they make up to frighten others. It's too bad you couldn't show them, however, as that required you getting in their personal space.
Eyefestation, Good People, and the Wall Dwellers were quite..risky to observe, as they had ways of quickly and painfully sending you back to square one if you weren't careful. Even so, you made some pretty damn good sketches..and you wish you could show them off to them, too, especially to the shark who'd probably appreciate a human's drawing of herself.
Even the DiVine, who were always frozen in poses for some reason, joined your ever-growing list of muses. The oxygen gardens were a nice place for you to rest and appreciate the flora for a few moments--before an Angler came along, of course.
Then there was Sebastian.
While he was fully aware of your artistic passions, in the beginning he seemed a bit annoyed whenever you came into his shop just to sketch.....or if you took an unusually long time to reach him. He just assumes you've stopped to "doodle" and wonders if you really care about getting out of this place alive.
He'd remind you that HQ could get suspicious if you're off their radar for too long, but you've stayed in his shop for 10-20 minutes at a time and not once did your diving gear beep. So you reassured him not to fret.
It was kinda sweet that he worried over you, an expendable, although maybe that's because you actually treat him with decency..and don't take his snarky comments to heart whenever you died.
Aside from the occasional eyeroll whenever you brought out your sketchbook, he did inquire about some of the things you've drawn, and you'd show him, bearing a little pride in your work.
All you'd get in response was a "neato" or "wowie, that's how you see them?" and nothing more.
It wasn't insulting, so...you'll take that.
Obviously he was more concerned about how much research data you were willing to fork over in exchange for supplies, and how far that equipment will carry you before your next demise. So you'd eventually close the book and barter with him for whatever wares were on his tail.
Unbeknownst to him, you've actually started sketching him as of late. Now that you've met him dozens of times, it was easy for you to recall his features without needing to stare at him for reference every five seconds.
That would not only be rude, but very creepy.
Then one day, you showed up to Sebastian's shop with enough data to be able to afford his document, which described him as Z-13, "The Saboteur" who the company wanted "dead on sight" if he was spotted or trying to escape.
When you had time to read the file on your own, you learned some..pretty shocking things about how he caused the lockdown, went through torturous experiments, and was falsely accused of nine murders and was proven innocent far too late.
The most upsetting part was that he was never informed of this.
He learned that after presumably stealing his own document.
It made you feel sick to your stomach, knowing he's the reason you're being terrorized by those beasts, but you couldn't find it in your heart to be angry at him.
If anything you were angry at Urbanshade for their "guilty until proven innocent" system--or in his case, being proven innocent didn't matter.
His human mugshot was also included in the file, and even with the black censor bar covering his eyes, he still looked like quite a handsome fellow. You could make out some details, and ended up drawing him on a separate page, too, although part of you wishes you never started.
You doubt he would kill you or rip apart your book for drawing him, but considering how volatile and rude he could be at a moment's notice..you did your best to conceal the sketches when you visited his shop.
You didn't want him to be offended or reminded of his past..and make him resent the one person who he almost considered a genuine friend.
Unfortunately, you'd soon come to realize that your actions were only heightening his suspicions.
And that it was going to come to a head next time you entered his shop.
...............
"Okay, I'm going to bite...what're you really hiding in that little book?"
"Pardon?" Pausing mid-sketch, you looked up at Sebastian, wondering why he appeared so disgruntled. "I'm..uh...just doodling like I always-"
"No, don't give me that "like always" crap." He huffed, flicking the end of his tail as he crossed his two arms over his chest, staring down at you. "Last time, you couldn't stop showing me a stupid face you'd think one of those S-Qs would make...and now you won't even let me have a sneak peak of your next "masterpiece"." He spat the last word, voice dripping with disdain. "Are you really drawing something...or are you secretly writing intel to give to Urbanshade?"
"...wha.." You blinked in disbelief, wondering where he'd get that assumption from. "Why would I ever do that?"
"Oh I dunno, maaaybe because you have access to my file and know my location? I bet you're gonna sell me out to those scumbags once you reach the crystal." He gnashed his teeth. "Did they say you'd get extra cash for leaving tips on my whereabouts, huh?"
"Sebastian, there's no reason for this hostility. I'm not giving any intel to anyone-"
"Then you wouldn't mind me taking a look at this, would you? Yyyyyyoink!" His third arm was quick to snatch your sketchbook away, holding it out of your reach as you jumped up in panic.
You were already dreading his reaction.
This could very well be the end for you.
"Please give that back! You'll tear it!"
"You look frightened. So maybe I should, considering you're writing secrets about.....about...." But as Sebastian finally looked at the page, all he saw were sketches of his current self, and you began to see a shift in his expression.
It went from pure anger, to surprise and confusion, and then to....something unreadable.
"These are...all of me?" His voice became quieter as he flipped the page, only for his breath to hitch upon finding the drawings of his human form.
And for once, he was completely speechless.
The details were immaculate, everything from his hair style to the scar he used to have across his face--given to him from an angry cellmate who thought he really did kill those people and tried giving him a "taste of his own medicine".
But the way you made him look was...incredible.
That's him.
That's really him.
The man--the human--he was before...
Before...
"Yes." Your face was burning with embarrassment, and your heart was pounding with fear of both death and ridicule, now knowing that your fate laid in his hands now. "I-I'm sorry. I should've asked for your permission and I know the details aren't perfect but you didn't let me........huh?"
Ceasing your ramblings, you noticed the tears welling in his eyes, and you were stunned. Then his shaking hands closed the sketchbook and returned it to you. "Um..are you okay? I'm really sorry if-"
"I...a-almost forgot what I looked like before all of this.." He raised a claw to wipe at his watery eyes, sniffling. "They're...good drawings, friend. I'm sorry..I...I-I didn't mean to..." His voice cracked, and he forced himself to stop, bringing his hands to his face. "Why am I crying over something like..t-this..?"
He hated looking so weak in front of you, yet he couldn't help the tears that kept slipping down his cheeks. A certain sadness was weighing heavily on his heart, yet at the same time he felt...honored that you wanted to draw him, putting your heart and soul into every sketch--with him getting the most effort.
You didn't overexaggerate him as the hideous beast he and everyone else was convinced he was, but just him as, well, himself. His smiles when he realizes it's you coming through the vent again, his cheeky grins when you buy up all his supplies, and even the one time he pouted when you died to Pandemonium because you risked it all trying to draw the moldy fish-creature.
The human ones, as you could tell from the way he broke down, especially hit home for him. Just from a mugshot alone, you were able to create a near-accurate depiction of him.
It made him wonder if you two have met before any of this happened.
Sebastian sniffled, struggling to stop the tears and expecting you to make fun of him as he finally uncovered his face. But instead he saw you standing there with your arms opened up. "I feel like you could use one of these. It's okay. I know you miss being human."
".........."
"C'mon, big guy. My arms are kinda hurting--oh!"
Without warning, he accepted your embrace and squeezed you tightly in his hold. Of course he was careful not to crush your diving tanks, and you smiled in appreciation and patted his back. "It's okay, it's alright..I got you. I didn't mean to make you cry."
He sniffled a few times, but otherwise said nothing and tried making sure you weren't supporting all of his upper body weight.
Curse his size. He wishes he could experience a normal hug again.
This one will do, though.
"I-It's...it's fine. Don't worry.." He finally spoke after a few moments, calming down. "As long as you don't tell anyone about this."
"I'll take it to my grave." You chuckled, letting go and stepping away so he could straighten his back out. While he did that, you gently tore a few pages from your book, to which he blinked in confusion.
"What are you doing with-?"
"Keep them." You insisted. "In case this sketchbook falls into a pit or gets waterlogged, I want you to hold onto these. Besides, I can tell you appreciate them a lot. So...consider it a gift."
"Why..thank you." A smile appeared on his face as he took the pages carefully. "Rest assured, they'll be safe and sound." He gazed at them both one more time, feeling a tug on his heart.
But it wasn't as heavy as before.
After neatly folding and stowing them away into his pockets, he saw you already sitting in one of the chairs, your sketchbook opened to a brand new blank page.
"Sooooooo what are you going to draw this time?" He tilted his head, ear fins twitching with curiosity.
"Hm...I did see a vision of a white glowing man a few rooms back. I think he was from...the Mindscape? There was a file talking about him and some floating gears and a white ball."
"Ohh yeah, he's an interesting guy. I'd love to see your interpretation of him." Now Sebastian was 100% invested, as he curled his tail around himself, resting his upper body on it so he could see your book better. "But y'know you won't be able to leave this place with sketches of-"
"I'm well aware of that...I could always change a few things and turn them into OCs."
"Hah. You should."
"Maybe I will." You snickered, grateful that you didn't have anything to fear.
At least somebody in the Blacksite appreciated your art.
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realcube · 6 months ago
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SO SOAKED ༉‧₊˚.
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wet n wild with hq men
characters ❣ sugawara, suna, oikawa, kageyama & atsumu (all ts!)
tws/tags ❣ semi public sex, fingering // tit jobs // flashing, praise // riding, slight degradation // vaginal — minors dni!
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KŌSHI SUGAWARA always walks you home after a date, especially one that ended as late as it did tonight. unfortunately, half-way through the journey it began to rain. it was only a drizzle at first which is why you both opted against hiring a taxi, but before you knew it, the weather had escalated to a full-on downpour, resulting in you both having to dash home, using suga's jacket as an umbrella. it wasn't an especially effective substitute, you both realised as you stepped under the protection of your front door canopy, giggling at each other's drenched and dishevelled states. but something about seeing your hair dripping, clinging to your glowing skin and your long, wet eyelashes — so doll-like — tempted him. he leaned in for a good-bye kiss like he always does but this time, as your damp lips danced with his, while one hand cupped your cheek, the other wandered downwards, peeling up your dress so your ass was exposed. then, he slips two fingers right into your pussy, smiling into the kiss when you gasp, and roughly pushing you back against the door. "kōshi.." you whine into the kiss as he makes shallow and gentle movements with his fingers, "we should go inside." he exhales out his nose and continues to grind his wet body against yours, "let me make you cum first, sweetie."
RINTARŌ SUNA took you to a music festival, but he should've warned you first about the tendancy of people to throw their drinks around, otherwise you wouldn't have worn a white shirt. the incident caused suna to get a little damp too, but the issue was more pressing in your case as it caused your whole top-half to be see-through. the drenched fabric clinging to your supple chest, along with the sight of your cute nipples poking out had suna dizzy. you didn't want to ruin the festival experience for suna so you offered to go get dried up on your own, but suna was uncharacteristically keen to come with you. however, instead of exiting the crowd and leading you to a bathroom, he guided you to a wooded area adjacent to the festival. hidden behind a tree, he locks his lips with yours, which is surprising but you eagerly reciprocate. he parts only to meet your eyes and mutter while tugging at the bottom of your shirt, "why don't we hang this to dry?" you nod, and within seconds he's tore it off you, tossing it over a tree branch. for a moment he revels in the sight of your unobstructed tits. fumbling with his belt buckle, he uses his other hand to press down on your shoulder and you know to get on your knees. once it's free, he prots it against your cheek and smirks at how promptly you open your mouth, but he pulls away and shakes his head, "no, baby." he says, "with those pretty tits."
TOBIO KAGEYAMA doesn't understand how hot he looks after practise. what he sees is a sweaty, gross mess. but you see your ripped athlete husband, damp clothes sticking to his toned body, with shining skin and shallow breaths. it's reminiscent of his state after going for a few rounds, so it makes sense that it would turn you on. and although he is tired, kageyama is never going to pass up an oppertunity to screw you. he is laid on the bed, with one flexed arm supporting his neck so he can look at you, and the other clamped on your waist while you bounce on his cock. a sharp breath is pulled from him with each drop of your hips, and his eyes are fixated on your sopping pussy and how it hungrily swallows him up. "this needy, eh?" he comments through pants. you'd reply but you're too fixated on riding him, and trying to cope with ceaseless amount of pleasure his fat cock sends washing through you. "better make yourself cum on it." he grits.
TŌRU OIKAWA goes crazy when he sees you walking around the house, fresh out of the shower, in nothing but two towels. a big one to wrap around your hair, and a much smaller one around your body. so small it grants him a peek of your shining, perky ass with each step. he tries to wash away these impure thoughts with a shower of his own, but that doesn't work. he changes into his nightwear and you walk by him just as he is getting out of the shower, then gasp as he snatches the towel that had previously wore on your body, exposing you to the nippy air. instinctively, you use your arms to cover yourself, "tōru, that's mine!" you yell, watching him dry his hair with it. "oh, sorry, princess." once he's done, he holds it out and offers, "let me put it back on you." you pout and nod. lowering your guard, he saunters towards you and muses, "my gorgeous girl. you know what you do to me when you walk around like that." he puts the towel behind your back, but you lean in for a heated kiss before he is able to fully put it on you, hence he drops it. his hand grips at your ass while the other rubs betweens your damp folds, massaging your clit, "i should give you some attention, huh?"
ATSUMU MIYA knows exactly what you want when he comes home to see that you've run a bath. not just any bath either, one filled with rose petals and decorated with scented candles and glittery bath-bombs, while a romantic playlist plays nearby. and one that you've sunk into, completely nude, with your hair loose, which you know he goes nuts for. he playfully narrows his eyes at you, as he throws his bag down under the sink, "now, this is nice n' all. but i'm going to need you to use yer words, sweetheart." he says, while taking his jersey off, and you shrug. "i just wanted to do something nice for you. my hard-working husband." "so, you're horny." he chuckles, without missing a beat, as he slips into the bath with you, "luckily for you, my dear, you've been on m' mind all fuckin day. that tight pussy." he slurs, while idly circling your clit with his thumb, causing you to whimper. then, he leans back against the side of the tub and stretches his legs out, motioning to his lap, "get t' it." eagerly, you scramble forward, onto him and align yourself with his cock. slowly, you sink down onto it, the water gently waving as you do so. your eye squeeze tightly shut, a mix of pain and pleasure shooting through you and your walls desperately contort to accommodate his length. he's been in you so many times yet it's still so filling. he runs a wet hands up your waist, over your tits, mesmerised as droplets fall from your nipples. "so sexy."
1K notes · View notes
starsofang · 6 months ago
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CALL OF THE SEA / PART FOUR
pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, kidnapping, angst, blood, 141 are still mean pirates ): kind of, very brief mentions of death masterlist
When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.
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There were no ifs, ands, or buts about sleeping arrangements. Price, the Captain that he was, would have it his way, and his way was keeping you secured in the stuffiness of his own quarters.
It was uncomfortable, the way you shared the bed with him. He was a large man, much larger than you, and his bed only had so much space to fit the two of you. In the midst of the nights, you’d feel his leg brush against yours, or feel the soft rumble of his quiet snores from where he laid beside you.
It was far from ideal. As much as you hated it, it was an upgrade from your cell down in the brig. Price’s bed was softer, more plush, and it sank you in every time you slept on it. The situation was no better, but it wasn’t any worse, either.
The downside, though, was that you were just as much a prisoner as you were in the cell. Price made it known that you weren’t to leave his quarters under any circumstance.
They brought you meals in rotations. Sometimes Soap would show, cracking a horrible joke that left you rolling your eyes. Or sometimes it’d be Gaz, who hardly spared you a word of conversation, though you could see the faint glimpse of pity in his eye.
Then there was Ghost. A pure enigma, darkened by shadowy demons that were hidden beneath his mask. He never uttered a word to you, nor looked at you. He did his bidding by slapping down a bowl of poorly made stew and immediately making his exit before you could get a single word in.
Price wouldn’t bring you your meals, though you convinced yourself it was because he was avoiding you. You thought his original plan of having you sleep in his quarters would be for something diabolical and sinful, yet he made no effort to touch you nor get to know you. It was nice, knowing he wasn’t there to do things against your will, but it was also confusing, wondering what his real plan was for you.
It was as if sleeping with a wall, which you weren’t sure whether to be grateful or not. These men were far from people you wanted to be a part of, but the desire for a friend was beginning to outweigh your spite.
You were an outcast aboard this ship. Secluded from the world, and isolated from the only people you were surrounded by. It was a dreadfully lonely life to be living. Your only friend was the sea, and even that was something you were torn away from, locked away in the quarters with only a small window to offer a view of it.
The door of Price’s quarters barged open, disrupting you from your woe. None of them ever bothered to knock. They were savages, bred with no proper manners in the presence of a woman. But really, you weren’t a woman to them. You were labor. An inconvenience.
“Get up,” Ghost grumbled from his stand in the doorway, hand knuckling the rusty knob. “Goin’ shoppin’.”
“We’re on land?” you asked, standing from Price’s cot. Ghost grunted in response. “And I’m to… join you?”
“You need supplies, don’t you?” he gruffed, eyes narrowing in on you. “Don’t make me change my mind.”
The door abruptly slammed shut, leaving you alone in the quarters once again.
Land? They were allowing you to join them on their journey to land, to aid you in getting supplies necessary to work as a proper medic? It seemed surreal, yet bittersweet.
Gaining new supplies set your position on their crew in stone. They intended to keep you as theirs, and only trusted you enough to let you get off of the ship under their watch.
Yet, you’d be able to feel the grass between your toes once again. To feel the summer sun soaking in your skin, to hear the chatter of villagers fill your ears. You’d feel the liveliness of people apart from these heartless, savage pirates.
You’d be able to escape.
If you remained clever, you could leave the hands of Captain Price and create a new life far from their ship. This was your one and only opportunity to venture towards the life you always wanted for yourself.
You appeared as neutral as ever when you left the quarters to join the four men where they stood, clearly speaking amongst each other. You couldn’t show the rushing adrenaline coursing through you, not if you wanted to get away alive.
“Ach, there ye are, dove,” Soap huffed in annoyance, grabbing hold of your bicep to surge you towards him. You collided with his side, knocking the air out of your lungs. “Yer with me.”
“Stick with Soap,” Price ordered. His glare sent chills down your spine. “You are to get what you need under his watch. Try anythin’ funny and he won’t be so kind with you.”
“She’s fine, Cap, no need to worry. She won’t do anythin’ silly. Ain’t that right, dove?” Soap beamed, a touch of crazy leering down at you.
The plan in your head was beginning to feel too soon and too dangerous. You could only swallow nervously, giving a firm nod in return before they helped guide you off of the ship.
The town was lively around you. It was nothing like your home. Where you had grown with the quiet chirps of nature and gentle conversation, you were now greeted with an angry bustle of rushing townsfolk, brushing past you as if you were a ghost.
You felt out of touch with your surroundings. Others were dressed in fresh fabrics, altered to their frame. The women were pretty, hair unmatted and braided to frame their lovely faces while the men were covered from head to toe with the finest of coats.
Not all were as fortunate. There were a select few you caught glimpses of as you passed who were as dirty as you were, shoeless and hopeless. Begging for scraps of food or cheap coins, only to be spat on like the scum of the Earth.
You were no different. Next to Soap, you looked like a helpless, little mouse with dirty bags of fabric that fell loosely on your body, with your feet blackened from the lack of cover. It was utterly humiliating.
Soap kept a solid grip on your arm as he led you through the heaps of shoppers. He kept his eyes forward, scoping out any possible threat. You could see the hardwired focus geared in his brain, as if working on pure muscle memory.
“Pretty neat of a place, aye?” Soap asked, attempting small talk. He glanced over at you, wearing that boyish grin of his.
“It’s wonderful,” you replied, taking in the sights.
You meant it. Shops lined every corner of the dirt paths, windows displaying pretty dresses or tailored suits. Where you expected the town to look depressing, you found color, filling you with a warm dose of serenity.
This was a town you could grow to love. It was busy and loud, but the opportunity seeped out through every corner, calling your name. Your freedom rang out like a bell, offering you a place for your dreams to come true.
You had to escape if you truly wanted it. Your plan would have to unfold, even if it meant being patient.
“Yer bound to see a whole lot more towns better than this one, dove,” Soap boasted, grinning with pride. “Ye will grow to accept us one day.”
You stared up at Soap while the two of you walked. It was a shame, really, that he was the only one decently kind to you. Kind was far too generous of a word to describe any of these men, but it was the closest thing to what Soap was being towards you.
He was still a pirate, though.
“I am not so sure of that,” you confessed, unsure of why you did.
“Ach, ye will. The rest are secretly a bunch of softies,” he claimed, waving a dismissive hand. “We’re still human even if we’re pirates.”
“You’ve kidnapped me,” you stated.
“Mm. Yes.”
“You burned down my home,” you continued.
“Perhaps.”
“You killed my people,” you finished.
“You know nothin’ of what we do, dove. How about we keep shoppin’ for ye and stop worryin’ about the past?” Soap asked, not unkindly. He was surprisingly composed despite your accusations.
You stared at him for a moment longer before looking away. There was no point in arguing when the plan was to escape the moment you had the chance. Today would be the last day you’d ever have to converse with Soap and his men, if you played your cards right.
“You’re right,” you said quietly. “I apologize.”
“There ye go, dove.” Soap returned to smiling, giving a mocking pinch to your grimy cheek. “Now, what all do ye need?”
Soap made escape increasingly difficult. His hand remained secure around your arm for every shop you went in, keeping you by his side. It was as if he had a secret sense that let him know of your plans. Or perhaps he was following Price’s orders.
He stuck with you with every purchase. You gathered herbs, freshly made medicines, and a new book and quill to jot down notes in a journal. Soap allowed you the pleasure of collecting expensive items, unwavered by the prices.
He paid for them in gold, little round coins he’d slap on to the counter and leave behind without waiting for the shop tenant to gawk at such a rare sight of payment.
It wasn’t until you passed a clothing shop did he falter. His steps had stopped, eyes peering into the window. You stopped with him, dissecting his reaction.
“Sorry, dove. Makin’ a stop for myself,” he stated, tugging you into the shop. To your surprise, he let go of your arm, leaving you standing near the entrance. “Stay put. I’m trustin’ ye, so don’t make me regret it, aye?”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you gave him a nod. He threw you a beaming smile before stalking off into the store, disappearing just out of sight. You remained firm in place, hands clasping in front of you.
The pit in your stomach twisted from the nerves that wracked you. This was your moment, your only chance of escape. If you didn’t take it now, you may never be lucky enough for another one.
As if fate was sealing itself, your eyes caught sight of a group of guards walking past the store, wooden rifles at the ready on their shoulders. They were speaking amongst themselves, oblivious to your inner turmoil from where you stood in the entrance of the shop.
A quick glance behind you showed that Soap was still occupied, unbeknownst to your plan. You could only see the top of his head, the messy mohawk sticking out like a sore thumb.
With the opportunity in front of you, you took it.
You moved slowly at first. Unsure, cautious. But once you made it out of the shop with Soap realizing, you amped your speed. Your dirty bare feet clambered clumsily along the dusty streets, digging into the little pebbles that littered them.
The dull sting of pain as you sprinted to the guards was disregarded. It was nothing compared to the ache of freedom you desired.
“Hello!” you shouted, garnering their attention. They turned, eyeing you with a judgmental glint at the state of you. “Please, I need help!”
“What can we do for you?” one of the guards asked, suspicious. His eyes were set on your feet, which were caked with months of filth. “A lass like you shouldn’t be out without a chaperone.”
“You don’t understand,” you gasped, catching your breath from the anxiety that rattled you like a drum. “I’ve been kidnapped by— by pirates and I’ve only just escaped. Please, I need your help, or they will take me back.”
“Pirates?” The guards perked up, glancing between one another as if sharing a secret you were unaware of. “How many pirates, lass?”
“Four,” you explained. “The Captain— his name is John Price. He is the one that took me from my village and I have been imprisoned on his ship for so long, I do not recall the days. Will you help me?”
You were frantic. Desperate. It showed in the way your voice shook, the way your frame shivered with nerves.
“It is not,” Guard Two said to his companion.
“It is,” Guard One said, the one who had spoken to you first. This time, they spoke to one another rather than to you, as if you were invisible. “There is only one Captain Price. It is 141.”
Guard Two looked over at you, face set firm. His eyes were piercing and cold, and it made you shrink down into yourself. They were not welcoming or kind like you expected a guard’s to be.
Guard One fumbled in the pocket of his britches before pulling out an aged paper. On it were the faces of the pirates with the exception of Ghost, covered by his signature mask. All of them were plastered on the page with a bounty over their heads, as well as a promise of exile for their arrest.
Execution. The pirates would be executed publicly if they were caught. The punishment was inked in bold letters beneath their pictures, and each letter was taunting you with the blood that would be spilled on your hands for turning them in.
An unsettling guilt began to gnaw at you. You were unsure of why. Captain Price and his crew had stolen you from your home and made you their medic. They had you sleeping in a cell for nights uncounted, eating slop out of a bowl like a dog.
Yet, to kill them was much too burdening on you. They were mean, heartless, and unworthy. Yet, death was unkind. You were not so shallow.
“Is this what they look like?” Guard One asked, holding the paper in front of you. It was undoubtedly them, down to every detail.
“Yes,” you confirmed, though not as confidently as before. There was now a weight in your tone, as if holding back. “Yes, that’s them. You— you will kill them once you find them?”
Guard Two laughed, though it was bone chilling. There wasn’t a hint of warmth in it, only distaste and rage. “Of course. They’re to be hanged for their crimes. They are savages.”
He took a step closer to you, leaning down to your level. His aura was threatening, and you could feel yourself cowering away. “You must tell us where they are at once. We will help you once we have captured them.”
You took a step back, deflating. Everything within you told you that you made a mistake. If you went through with exposing their whereabouts and having them captured, their deaths would be because of you. You would be a murderer.
“I—“ You swallowed, clenching your clammy hands into nervous fists. “I do not know where they’ve gone. I ran away as soon as I could.”
“Not a problem,” Guard One gruffed, taking hold of your arm, just as Soap had done before. Now, more than ever, a part of you wished it was Soap rather than the guard. “You will guide us to their ship.”
“Please let go of me,” you murmured brokenly, covering the guard’s hand with your own to pry his fingers off. They didn’t budge. “Please.”
Your pleas were shadowed by their greed. You recognized the look in their eyes, and it scared you to the bone.
Bloodthirst. They were hungry to capture the pirates, hungry to be the ones to guide them to their impending death. It was not about helping you. It was about the handsome reward they would receive for turning in the most wanted criminals of the sea.
You began to panic. The air in your lungs felt weak, and you could feel the world around you closing in.
This was not the outcome you wanted. You simply wanted your freedom, yet it would come with a cost that you weren’t sure you could afford.
You did the only thing you could think of doing. Your fist collided with the guard’s face with a nasty crunch, causing blood to spew from his nose like a spout. It speckled on your dirty cheeks, tainting them further.
The guard let out a shout, releasing your arm. When his companion attempted to make a grab for you, you bolted, legs carrying you back to the shop Soap had been left in.
Chaos ensued from behind you. You could hear the clamber of guards, racing after you, yelling profanities in the air. The townsfolk stopped to observe, women placing their hands over their mouths in bewilderment, men torn between watching or intervening.
It was a commotion you never planned on starting, and now, all eyes were on you.
Soap came into sight from in front of the store. He looked focused and angry, eyebrows pulled together, jaw set taut. When he locked in on you as well as the guards behind you, there was no relief. His eyes were as intense as the guards had been, if not more.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” you sobbed pathetically, but he gave you no chance to pause your running.
Soap grabbed your hand in his, lugging you along the dirt paths. He swerved the streets, pulling your arm harder every time you fell behind. You struggled to keep up, spots of blood dotting the ground beneath you from the newly open wounds from pebbles that sliced open the soles of your feet.
You were pulled into a narrow alleyway with Soap, out of sight from the guards. Soap’s large hand shoved your head, urging you to crouch down behind a row of barrels that crowded the alley.
Your heart was nearly lurching out of your chest from your hiding space. Pounding footsteps raced past the alley, a cloud of dust filling the air and burning your nose. Voices could be heard shouting nearby, but not close enough for you to make out what they were saying.
Soap and you stayed put, his hand muffling your mouth, body smothering yours. He held his breath, ears listening in for the guards.
After what felt like an eternity, the footsteps grew farther away, voices fading into the wind.
“I trusted ye to stay put, dove,” Soap whispered, voice full of anger and betrayal. “I’ve been nice to ye. Why couldn’t ye just stay like I told ye?”
You whimpered into his hand, low and depressing. You felt defeated. Your fate was undetermined more than ever before, and you feared what the pirates would truly do to you now that you went against their word.
“C’mon,” he huffed, letting go of you and standing from behind the barrels. He grabbed hold of your arm, hauling you up and keeping you in his grip.
Soap crept the two of you through the town, slipping through every crack in the buildings to remain unseen. If people saw you, they remained silent, fearful of the pirate amidst their town.
The closer the two of you got to the ship, the more your heart sunk to your stomach. You were wracked with terror, horrified of the punishment you’d endure. The only thing you could do is let Soap string you along like a puppy on a leash.
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“We need to go,” Soap barked at Price. The other men had long returned from their shopping, only awaiting your arrival with Soap. “Now.”
Gaz fluttered away without question, preparing to undock the ship and leave no trail in the town behind. Price and Ghost, on the other hand, were far more concerned.
“What the hell happened?” Ghost asked, voice gruff and dark, eyes narrowed on you.
“Dove tried rattin’ us out,” Soap hissed, throwing a glare your way. You shrunk in his hold, avoiding his eyes and bowing your head low. “Guards are lookin’ high and low. They know we’re here.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost grunted, leaving the three of you to aid Gaz in prepping the ship for sail. He walked with a looming shadow over him, black and scary, oozing out the mist of pure acrimony.
Price stood tall and terrifying, arms crossed over his chest, the lines of his face firm and tight. He stared at you with a guise of disappointment and resentment, and if looks could kill, you would surely be one of their many victims.
The Captain took a step towards you, leaning down to your height. His hand grabbed hold of your face, fingers digging into your flesh as he forced you to look at him. His eyes were glaring, stabbing you with millions of daggers.
He shifted your head from side to side, inspecting the specks of blood that dotted your face. He was silent, making everything much more unnerving, and when he let go of you, he spared you not another glance.
“Take her to the cell,” Price ordered Soap. “We’ll deal with it later.”
Soap nodded grimly, tugging your arm aggressively so he could guide you to the brig doors. The sight of them made you sick, and you fought in his hold, which did nothing but make you look like a fool.
“Stop squirmin’,” he hissed, irritated. Seeing him without his signature smile made your chest fill with sickening guilt, and it twisted your insides in a painful knot.
The cell welcomed you when you stepped down familiar stairs. It was a slap in the face, seeing it once again, and you wanted nothing more than to take back everything you’d done and apologize to Price until he let you back into the comfort of his quarters.
But there was no going back. The deed was done. This was your price for freedom, and before it was handed to you, it had been snatched right out of your hands.
Soap shoved you into the cell with enough force to ensure you went inside, but gentle enough to make sure you didn’t topple over. Even now, when you’d betrayed his trust, he didn’t aim to hurt you. The pill was suffocating to swallow.
The cell shutting behind you rattled through your ears like a deafening shriek. The lock clicked, and Soap made no effort to move, not yet. Instead, he stood there, eyes boring into you through the bars of your cage.
You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. So, you stood shamefully, staring at the floor beneath your aching feet.
Something clattered on the floor, and when you shifted your gaze to find it, what stared back at you was a pair of shoes. New, unworn, and pretty. For you.
Looking up at Soap, his expression was unreadable. He no longer looked at you. He seemed just ashamed as you did. It was as if all the anger he had before had diminished, and he now looked like a hurt boy, betrayed and ridiculed.
“I hope they fit,” he said quietly. While you stared at him, he was now the one avoiding looking at you. “Didn’t know what ye liked.”
Soap turned on his heel, trudging up the stairs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He made no effort to look back at you, to study your stunned expression. Instead, what greeted you was his back as it filtered through the brig doors, shutting behind him with a loud slam.
You looked back at the shoes, careful when you picked them up. They were bland in taste, yet the prettiest thing you’d been gifted in your life.
Soap trusted you to stay while he went to surprise you with a new pair of shoes, and you had only gone behind his back out of fear of his pirate crew that had taken you from your home.
You felt no better than a pirate.
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jisungiesvzz · 1 month ago
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Give Into Me
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Hyunjin x fem!reader
Warnings: angst (if u squint), kissing, kind of public touching (no one sees), possibility of being heard (you were), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), getting interrupted/caught, hint of Minsung’s whatevership :)
Word Count: 2.5k (ish)
P.S. first time writing smth like this so bear with me
Y’all already know the drill: this isn’t proofread so lmk if I’ve missed any warnings or need to fix any grammar/spellings ;)
—————
It was close to midnight when you and the other members finally arrived back at the dorms after a long day at the studio. Once you stepped inside the dorm, you took off your shoes and immediately  headed down the hallway to your room. You stopped in your tracks and turned around as you heard Felix call out to you.
“Y/n-ah, are you gonna hang out here with us?”
“Uh, let me put on some lounge clothes first.” You replied, sounding more drained than you intended.
Felix nodded and you continued your short journey to your room. You quickly changed into a grey hoodie and black sweatpants and slid your favorite white fluffy socks on. 
You exited your room and sat down on the edge of the empty couch, seeing that the other members hadn’t finished changing yet. 
A couple minutes went by as you absentmindedly scrolled through a random social media app on your phone. Your scrolling was interrupted when someone slumped onto the cushion next to you. You averted your eyes from your phone to see that Hyunjin was now taking up the rest of the couch. His eyes were glued on you.
“You do realize that seven more people have to sit here right?” You let out a soft giggle.
Hyunjin playfully rolled his eyes, “well they aren’t here right now.”
You gave him a look and he sighed sitting up and resting his head on your shoulder. Your heart swarmed with butterflies at his close proximity.
You’ve always had lingering feelings for Hyunijn but never said anything in fear of messing up your friendship and the groups dynamic.
“What are you watching?”
“Uh- I’m just scrolling through random stuff,” you stammered.
Hyunjin let out a soft laugh at your sudden nervousness.
“Let me see,” he said, leaning impossibly closer to you.
One of his legs was now draping over your lap and his head was basically on your chest. His hand touched yours as he turned your phone towards him slightly. Your mind was in a whole other world as you tried to register all of the sudden physical contact. You were immediately brought back to reality as you felt him staring at you. 
The moment you made eye contact with Hyunjin, he spoke in a low whisper. 
“Do I make you nervous?”
The question caught you off guard as it was so straight forward. You started tripping over your words.
“W-what? Why would you think t-that?”
Hyunjin smirks and leans closer to your face, leaving barely any space between your lips. His eyes flicker to your lips as he places his hand on your chest.
“Your heart beat’s giving you away,” he murmured.
You swallowed hard not knowing what to do. Your heart was beating a thousand miles per hour and you had the sudden urge to smash your lips against his.
Hyunjin seemed to have read your mind because within seconds, he had his lips attached to yours in a slow, sensual kiss. You reciprocated the kiss, melting into in his touch when he moved his hand to your cheek to deepen the kiss. He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for permission and you open your mouth to let him in. 
Before the kiss could get any more heated, you heard one of the members doors open. You hesitantly pulled back from the kiss but Hyunjin chased after your lips. 
You could hear Felix and Seungmin’s voices getting closer to the living room. You placed your hand on Hyunjin’s chest, applying some pressure to break him from your lips.
“Jinnie… they’re gonna see us,” you said out of breath.
Hyunjin stayed close to your face for a moment before untangling from you, a mischievous smirk on his face. 
“Oh my god today wiped me out,” Felix said exhausted as he slumped down on the opposite end of the couch. Seungmin sat down in the middle only letting out a quiet sigh of relief as he made contact with the couch.
The air around you felt thick as Hyunjin was still shoulder to shoulder with you. There was tension in the air between you and him but the other two didn’t seem to notice. You shuffled in your seat which caught Felix’s attention.
“Y/n-ah you alright? You seem kinda off ever since we got back,” Felix inquired.
“Uh… y-yeah no, like you said, you know today was… a lot,” you stuttered out, doing your best not to seem flustered.
You looked at Seungmin who had his eyebrow raised and was side-eyeing you and Hyunjin. Felix just hummed in acknowledgment, trying to put the pieces together but eventually shrugged off any suspicions. 
You heard the doors to the other members rooms opening and closing and soon enough, everyone came piling in.
 Jisung and Minho laid down next to each other by your feet on the floor. Bangchan had his back on the couch between Felix’s legs and was back hugging Jeongin while Changbin had wedged himself between Hyunjin and Seungmin.
“Yah! Binnie hyung could you be ANY closer?” Seungmin complained.
“You’re the one in the middle of the couch!” Changbin complained back.
“Yah! Both of you be quiet!” Bangchan intervened.
The two boys went back and forth until Bangchan grabbed a pillow and threw it at them.
“Seungmin scoot over and be quiet.”
Seungmin obliged and scooted over, giving Changbin a massive side-eye.
During the chaos, Jeongin had picked up the TV remote and picked out a movie to watch. The TV was at a steady volume as everyone settled down. Hyunjin had put a blanket over the two of you and laid his head on your chest again.
He was acting so innocent after basically swallowing you whole not too long ago.
How is he so calm?
Your heart skipped a beat as you felt a hand on your thigh. You looked down and saw the outline of Hyunjins hand under the blanket. You felt him massage your thigh and you shuffled from your position on the couch accidentally bumping Jisung on the ground. He turned around to look up at you and you whispered a strained ‘sorry’. He shrugged and turned back around, luckily not noticing where Hyunjin’s hand was placed.
He continued riding his hand up your thigh and stopped at your clothed heat, applying slight pressure. You leaned your head back, breath hitching as you bit your lip, biting back a whimper. Your head shot back up as you felt a hand wrap lightly around your ankle.
You looked down to see Jisung looking up at you again.
“Are you okay?” He mouthed, his boba eyes softening.
You nodded your head, giving the best reassuring smile you could. His eyes narrowed as if he wanted to believe you but Minho pulled his attention away by rolling on top of him and burying his face in Jisung’s neck. 
Hyunjin started rubbing circles on your clit and you cleared your throat.
“Guys I’m actually gonna head off to bed, I’m dozing off,” you said more calmly than you expected.
“What? Already?” Jeongin whined.
“One more episode? Pleasee.” Felix begged.
You removed Hyunjin’s hand from your heat and sighed, “I really want to but I can’t keep my eyes open.”
You got up from the couch, hoping that you sounded believable. You dashed to your room and shut the door letting out a relieved sigh when you heard the door click shut. You were so unbelievably aroused and shocked by what just happened. 
Hyunjin kissed me. And touched me. Fuck.
You went to go lay down in your bed when you heard your door creak open and click shut again. You already knew who it was.
You stood in the middle of the room, back to the door. Slow footsteps approached you as your breathing sped up. The footsteps stopped directly behind you and you could feel his breath on your neck.
Two hands grabbed your waist and spun you around. You gasped when you were met face to face with Hyunjin. His lips so close to yours, his gaze was desperate, filled with want and need.
“Why’d you run off?” he whispered.
“I uh- I couldn’t… you-”
You were cut off when he cupped your cheeks and pulled you into a hot and hungry kiss. You hesitantly melted into him once more and wrapped your hands around his biceps. He walked you back into the bed, never faltering from the kiss until you were laying flat on the bed.
His hands traveled across your body. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt asking for permission. You nodded your head and he wasted no time in pulling it over your head.
He started kissing and sucking on your neck and you let out a soft moan at the sensation. He left unmistakable marks along your neck. His kisses traveled down between your breasts and down to your stomach where he tugged at the waistband of your pajama pants.
“Wait- Hyunjin,” you whimpered.
Hyunjin kept kissing your stomach, lingering above your waistband. His fingers traced under your waistband and wrapped around your underwear. 
He looked up at you through his eyelashes, “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“The m-members are in the other room,” you said breathlessly.
Hyunjin removed his hand from your underwear and dragged his hands back up to your stomach, holding your waist. He leaned back up to your face leaving quick kitten licks up your body. 
He leaned down to your ear grazing his lips against it, “So what?”
You opened your mouth to respond but Hyunijn suddenly pulled your pants off causing you to gasp. He sucked at your neck again ripping a moan from your throat and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. He pulled your hand away from your mouth.
“Jinnie they’re g-gonna hear,” you let out a muffled moan from biting your lip.
“Let them,” he said a bit quiet from his face being buried in your neck, “You know you like this.”
He broke away from your neck and took off his shirt, throwing it to a corner of the room. He kissed you passionately as his hands traveled down to your underwear again and pushed them aside. You gasped into his mouth at the feeling of the cool air on your heat. His fingers slid up and down your wet folds and he smirked into the kiss.
“You’re already so wet for me.”
He pushed two fingers into you causing you to moan into the kiss and he took the opportunity to  slide his tongue into your mouth. The kiss became wet and sloppy as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady but agonizing pace.
“Mmmh, faster Jinnie,” you whined, placing your hands on his chest and arching your hips into his hand. He placed his hand on your abdomen forcing your hips back down so he was in complete control. He dragged his lips down to your heat and sucked on your clit. You moaned loudly at the sensations he was giving you, hands flying to his hair to hold onto something - anything. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach and your walls started clenching around his fingers. He knew you were close and sucked your clit harder, pumping his fingers into you faster and deeper hitting your g-spot effortlessly. 
“Aah- I’m close Jinnie, I’m gonna-” your words became incoherent as Hyunjin flicked your clit with his tongue bringing you over the edge and releasing around his fingers. He detached from your clit, massaging it with his thumb to ride out your high. Hyunjin leaned back up to your face and attached his lips to yours, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. You moaned into his mouth again, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.
You broke away from the kiss breathless, your forehead pressing against his.
 “That was… so fucking hot,” Hyunjin teased, looking down at your pussy that was leaking some of your release.
“Can I touch you?” you pleaded, a sudden urge to feel him washing over you as you eye the rock hard bulge in his pants. Hyunjin was taken aback by your sudden confidence boost but melted into you when you placed your hand on his bulge, slowly massaging it.
“Fuck Y/n, d-don’t do that,” he tried muffling his whimpers by kissing you but you knew the effect you were starting to have on him. He continued slowly kissing you as you undid his belt with one hand and massaging is dick in the other. 
You jumped when you heard a knock on the door, immediately  breaking away from Hyunjin making him groan at the loss of contact.
“Are you okay in there y/n?” you heard Felix call out.
“Y-yeah I’m fine!” You tried to sound believable but you were still aroused and out of breath. Hyunjin snickered at your fucked out state.
“You sure? You were making some… questionable noises.” It sounded like Felix regretted saying that the moment the words left his mouth. With that, Hyunjin let out a laugh but quickly covered his mouth. You stared at him in shock and smacked his arm.
“Was that…? Y/n is Hyunjin in there with you?”
You immediately shoved Hyunjin off you when you heard the door slowly open. 
“Wait- Felix don't!" you exclaimed as Hyunjin tried covering your body with a blanket.
Felix walked in and immediately yelped when he saw you two shuffling to hide under the sheets.
“Oh my god!!”
“Dude, get out!” Hyunjin threw a pillow at Felix which he successfully dodged by slightly closing the door.
You heard various foot steps coming towards your room along with muffled voices and your began to race as you reached for your clothes.
“Yah! What’s all the fuss about?” Bangchan said from down the hall.
“Nothing!” You and Hyunjin yelled out as Hyunjin leapt up to shove Felix out of the room, seeing as he had more clothes in than you. Once Felix was fully out the room, Hyunjin shut the door turning and leaning his back on the door. You were to shocked by what just happened to comprehend what the boys outside the door were gossiping about.
Hyunjin let out a shaky sigh then burst out laughing. You cocked a brow at him.
“What could possibly be so funny at a moment like this?”
“Sorry, sorry it’s just- you’re cute when you’re flustered that’s all.” He said between a shaky laugh.
You dramatically sigh pulling the blanket over your head with a groan. You suddenly feel the bed dip beside you and you gasp when two legs hover over you. Hyunjin pulls the blanket away from your face to reveal your flushed state.
“Don’t get shy on me now,” he teased. “We were just getting started.”
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domuspeccati · 3 months ago
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Day 13 : I Love This Place
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Ft. Ahn Yujin
Kink : Stuck In Wall
“A little help!” Yujin shouts. She reaches for her phone, but it’s just out of reach. Not wanting to draw any more attention to herself, she waits to see if anyone offers any assistance. Yujin’s arms can only reach so far.
She sees her phone on the ground. As if it’s taunting her, it slides a little bit more out of arm’s reach. Yujin huffs and stands up. She tries her best to not get her legs tangled with anyone else’s on the way to her phone. “Excuse me,” Yujin says. She narrowly avoids one man’s foot, shifting to the side to step over it.
So far, her day hasn’t been too kind to her. Yujin has seen a drunk man harass a woman, she’s been bumped into, which made her drop her phone the first time, and she’s been stuck on this subway for the better part of half an hour.
Yujin, at long last, reaches her phone. She bends down to pick it up. “Gotcha,” she remarks under her breath. The girl clutches the phone and makes her way back to her seat. After hurdling the same pairs of feet from the spot where the phone rested back to the seat, Yujin sits down and breathes easier now that her phone is back in her possession.
The mobile device chirps. Yujin checks the message. “Oh great,” she mutters. “What could he possibly want?” Yujin reads the message mentally and a long sigh escapes her mouth. “I’m gonna be late,” the first message reads. “I know we have that project at work, but I can’t make it because traffic is a nightmare. I’ll try to be there as soon as possible. If you get there before me, work a little bit on it.”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes. The lethal combination of reactions would be enough to set anyone off. Knowing that she’s on a tight schedule, Yujin composes a message. “Okay then,” the first message reads. “I’m on my way right now. After I get there, I’ll cover for you.” Yujin sends the message and puts her phone back into her pocket.
Yujin sits patiently in her seat. Waiting for the stop where she gets off has never felt longer. She hopes that this ride will be over in the foreseeable future. She knows that this ride will only last a few more minutes, but to her, that’s an eternity.
The minutes pass in relative silence. Yujin listens to the occasional noises coming from the other passengers. Once the ride comes to a stop, she stands up and gathers her belongings. Yujin bows and apologizes for her outburst while heading for the exit. Once she’s at the exit, she leaves without a second thought.
The doors close behind her and she’s sent on her way. Yujin exits the station, walking up the stairs to ground level. She emerges onto street level and takes a brief look around. The area, which is practically engraved in her mind, makes the last leg of the journey easier.
She begins her walk to the office. Yujin keeps to herself, trying to balance it out after her outburst on the ride here. She tries to forget that instead focusing on the walk to her office. Yujin rounds the corner and this starts the longest straight walk of the entire day. No turns for the last few blocks, which definitely makes things a little easier on her.
Yujin tries to make her walk as easy as possible. The ride was emotionally taxing, so it still lingers in her mind. She tries to shake it, but her embarrassing moments always stick with her. “I need a drink,” she tells herself. “Or something.”
As she’s lost in her thoughts, Yujin bumps into a man. “Watch it!” You bark. Seeing that the girl meant no harm, you relax and open your mouth to speak again. “Looks like you’ve seen a fucking ghost. Speak.” You wait for a response and examine the girl who is dressed in formal attire.
She shakes her head. “I’m fine,” she tells you. “Really.” Yujin tries to walk around you, but you don’t budge. “I really do have somewhere to be. I have this thing at work that desperately needs to be done.”
You smile at her and nod understandingly. ���Well, can I interest you in something?” you ask her. “A pretty girl like yourself surely has needs or something.”
Yujin clicks her tongue. “I’m gonna stop you right there.” She puts one hand on your chest and pushes you gently. “I have to get to work. Anything else can wait.” Yujin then removes her hand from your chest and walks past you. She doesn’t want anything else to get in the way today.
“You don’t understand.” You grab Yujin’s hand. “It’s not just a hookup.” Your hands pull her closer, begging her to listen to you. Seeming like you’re begging for her attention, you let Yujin’s hands go. “You look to be in need of a little stress relief and I’ve had a long night. We should make ends meet.”
She shakes her head. Thinking about it for a moment, Yujin doesn’t move a single muscle. She then shrugs and stares at you. “Well, I don’t see a problem with it,” she tells you. “It’s not the first hookup. Won’t be the last one either.”
You smile, pleased with yourself. “Right this way then,” you instruct her. As Yujin follows you, you lead her into a dark alley. Once you make it to the end of the alley, you point to a door on the right. “It’s in this building. Just stick close to me and we’ll make sure that you have an absolute blast.”
Yujin sees the smile on your face. She doesn’t normally trust people who lead her into secluded areas, but she makes an exception. “Could’ve been anyone.” Yujin looks up at you and says it again. “It could’ve been anyone. Why am I the girl who gets asked? There’s surely other women on that stretch of road who are in need of a little bit of stress relief.”
You nod. “There was one earlier.” Your admission makes her look even more confused. You then open the door and both of you walk in. The strong smell of sweat hits you. You can tell that the smell is a little much for Yujin. “You just look like you don’t get enough relief.”
She laughs. “I can’t deny that,” she confesses. Yujin’s eyes meet the eyes of another man. “It smells like a gym here. Why did it have to be here?” Her question hangs in the air.
“There’s a simple answer.” You usher Yujin into an available side room. “I like my clientele to be in similar businesses.” Once you’re in the room, you close the door behind her. “Go over to that wall there.”
Yujin laughs. “Are you kidding?” she asks you. Her eyes lock onto the hole in the wall. “Let me guess…” Yujin releases a deep sigh. “There’s another cock on that side of the wall.” Yujin removes her blazer. “I’m not a huge fan of being shared. That’s something that I leave to my colleagues.”
You run your fingers through Yujin’s hair. “That’s a great idea.” You walk over to the hole in the wall and peep through it. “There’s no one on the other side. Considering that’s where we keep lube for the anal freaks, I’d be surprised if anyone found comfort in that cramped space.”
As you step away from the wall, Yujin realizes that she has no choice other than to trust you. Yujin puts her blazer on the seat next to the hole. She then picks her bag up and places it on the blazer. The girl moves closer to the wall and bends down. Yujin sticks her head through the hole in the wall.
You get a good view of Yujin’s ass. The pants surely don’t do it justice. To make sure that everything is good to go, you grab her pants and yank them down to her knees. “Nice choice of panties,” you tell her as you grab them.
Yujin tries to look back at you but remembers that her head is through the wall. “I made sure that you’d like them,” she jokes. Once her panties are pulled down, she feels your hands on her bare asscheeks. Yujin moans softly and then realizes that you’re going to take full advantage of the situation.
Not caring about being late to work anymore is relieving for her. Yujin sighs, happy that she’ll soon get the relief that she needs. Yujin attempts to position herself, but she realizes that you are holding her in place.
“The lucky man gets to decide,” you tell her. With that, you push Yujin closer to the wall. You put your back into it, shoving the girl by pressing against her shapely ass. Once you get her into the desired position, you move your hands away from the girl’s backside and grab the zipper of your pants.
Yujin attempts to wiggle. “This is a little uncomfortable!” she calls out. Yujin attempts to move again, but she’s genuinely stuck in place. “I’m stuck now? You want me to be a cocksleeve this badly?”
You laugh and unzip your pants. “Truth be told, I had a good look at your frame.” You take your cock out and place it on Yujin’s bare ass. “I knew that your body would be perfect for this hole, so I had to think about which room would give a tight squeeze but not so tight that it hurts you.”
She places her hands on the wall that’s touchable through the other end of the hole. “It’s just enough to where it doesn’t feel like I’m having my guts squeezed out.” Yujin knows that exaggerating won’t get her anywhere, but she tries to ease the discomfort by making a joke.
“You can get out whenever you want,” you tell her. “I see how wide the hole is and, if you really wanted to, you could escape right now.” Your tip pushes into Yujin’s pussy. “You don’t want to leave yet though, do you?”
Yujin moans as your cock is inserted into her. “I definitely don’t!” She feels her breedable hole get stretched by your length as it pushes inside. When the thrusting begins, Yujin looks down at the floor, focusing her efforts straight down so her neck doesn’t get any pain from focusing elsewhere.
You start to fuck Yujin like you mean it. The bucking of your hips is similar to that of a man who hasn’t seen his lover in weeks. There is desperation in your thrusts. It’s a desperation in the sense of wanting to fill this sexy girl to the brim with your seed.
She gets wetter when your thrusting pattern gets into place. Upon finding the most comfortable position for her hands, Yujin surrenders to you. She never imagined that being stuck would be so arousing to her, but something about the willing helplessness just turns her on like never before.
The sensation of using Yujin is a very arousing one. You never thought that a girl in a suit would be hiding such a good ass. You haven’t even had a look at her chest, but you figure that you’ll save that for next. Your cock is doing everything to make sure that she enjoys it so much that there will be a next time.
Yujin’s pussy juices drip onto the floor. Now that she’s soaking your rod with her wetness, she realizes just how enjoyable you really are. Yujin relaxes, letting you dictate the pace while she makes herself comfortable in her fuckable position.
You can’t see Yujin’s face but you know that she is having the time of her life. Based on how her pussy is constricting around your length to give you something to work for, you can tell that the stuck girl wants you to have as much fun as you want. “Enjoying yourself?” You ask Yujin.
She nods, knowing that you can’t see her. Yujin then gives a response that comes in the form of her shaking her ass. “I’m having a great time,” she moans. “FUCK!” Yujin screams when your cock hits the right spot. 
As you pound her tightness over and over, you feel her reacting well to the thrusts. Yujin’s body is going to make sure that you spill every last drop of your load into her. You smack her ass and watch the skin ripple. Her squeal can be heard through the hole in the wall, which pleases you even more.
Yujin realizes that she can’t contain herself. She knows that she’ll be cumming all over the place in a few minutes. She tells herself that she’s trying to hold on, but a quick change of pace removes that thought from her mind.
You grip Yujin’s hips and speed up. The new rhythm is easily found by you and you use it to your advantage. “You’re so wet,” you moan. As you keep laying pipe in Yujin, your cock throbs. The sensation triggers you in a positive way and you reach around her with one hand, snaking the fingers between the wall and the front side of her body to reach down and play with her clit.
All of the touching is unbearable. Yujin shudders in anticipation. Finding it hard to stay still, Yujin clenches her fists and presses them against the well. The girl’s sexual frustration of days and weeks past fades away with the simple motions of your rod going into her, coming out of her, and going back in again.
Yujin’s orgasm creeps ever closer. The impending spray of juices is the only thing on her mind. Unbothered by work, unbothered by being shoved in a wall, and unbothered by being fucked by a man who she met barely a handful of minutes ago, Yujin enjoys the steady usage of her vagina. She feels it coming and there is nothing that she can do to stop it. All she’s able to do is tell you.
“SHIT, I’M CUMMING!” Yujin screams. She closes her eyes as her body begins to shake. Yujin feels her strong orgasm as the pleasure hits her all at once. Her legs shake and she struggles to stand up, her juices splashing onto the wall and the floor. As she cums, she realizes that your cock is no longer in her.
Unsure if she pushed it out or if you pulled out without telling her, Yujin’s pussy releases even more of her nectar. The girl smacks the wall with her fists, denting the other side from the power of her hits. “GOD, IT FEELS AMAZING!”
You watch Yujin, enjoying her sexual spasms. Once the orgasm is done with, you reward her pussy with a few smacks from your cock. You then slap her folds with your hand, the fingers smacking the wetness and making it splatter even more. “That was more powerful than most of the girls who visit here.”
Yujin chuckles. “Tell me about it,” she jokes. The girl tries to catch her breath, but the raspiness will only last longer. Yujin is impaled by your cock once more while she recovers from her orgasm.
You know that yours will be coming soon as well. You always want to make the most out of a perfect opportunity, so you fuck her like your life depends on it. “That’s it,” you tell her. “Bring me over the edge.” You slap her ass and watch it ripple again as her body reacts to your touches and prodding.
She is leaking at this point. Her juices continue to flow, making her pussy like a Slip ‘N Slide. You continue to batter Yujin’s entrance, hammering with your cock to hit the depths. You then move your hips back and prepare for a change in thrusting.
Your cock is pushed back in, albeit with a little less depth than it just had. You don’t go balls deep, instead choosing to fuck her with almost your entire shaft but not quite the whole thing. A few more moments of this would surely send you skyrocketing into a state of bliss, but you figure that it’s worth it to fill Yujin.
You place both hands on her waist. As you grip her, you keep fucking Yujin and letting the warmth and wetness consume you. You can tell that her pussy is hungry and you don’t want to keep it waiting any longer.
Yujin feels you jackhammer her pussy. She braces for impact, looking back at the floor once more. Yujin’s preparations aren’t enough and she realizes this as you fuck her as hard and fast as possible. “Cum for me,” she begs, biting her lip while waiting for the feeling of a massive load inside of her.
With a groan, you unleash your load. Your hands leave Yujin’s waist as the seed spills into her and you thrust slowly but keeping the same depth. You fuck her while your hands stay off of her body.
Each thrust brings in more semen. You then grab the girl and pull her closer to you, letting the cum be shot deep inside. After a handful of hip thrusts, you leave your cock all the way in her to shoot the last rope. The final bit of your ejaculate comes out and the rod twitches, signaling a job well done.
Yujin feels you pull out of her. She mumbles something under her breath in Korean as your tip emerges from between her lower lips. The girl pants hard like she just had the most vigorous exercise of her life. “Can I get out?”
You think for a moment. “Maybe I should leave you here,” you tell Yujin. You laugh and grab something to clean your cock. After cleaning your rod with her asscheeks, you put the shaft away. Your pants are zipped and you turn away from her while attempting to find a good answer for Yujin’s question.
“You could always stay here for a day.” You smack Yujin’s ass and grab her bag. “I could text your boss to tell you that you’re taking a day off.” Your hands then put her bag back down. “Just get back to work. I do have a condition for you.”
Yujin takes herself out of the wall. “What is it?” she asks you. Once she’s standing up straight, she walks over to her bag. She lifts it and grabs her blazer. Yujin puts the blazer back on and buttons it before putting her bag back over her shoulder. “I am already gonna be like half an hour late,” she says.
You turn back to her and point to the door. “Your condition is actually very simple.” You lean down to whisper in Yujin’s ear. “I want you to do me a favor. The next time that you’re horny, you should come here and visit me. If I’m not here, there will always be an eager cock.”
She covers her mouth while giggling. “Sure thing,” Yujin says. She grabs your crotch and walks to the door. “I’d much rather have the cock I’m familiar with. Just stand outside the door and wait for me to come to you.” Yujin opens the door and breathes softly, attempting to compose herself while she’s still in the building.
“Just give me your phone.” When she hands you her phone, you text your number. “Save me in your contacts as whatever you wanna call me.” You hand her phone back to her after adding the number to her contacts. “Now, get a move on.” You walk Yujin to the exit and keep your arm around her shoulder. “I wouldn’t want you to miss the valuable opportunity to have a story to tell.”
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hamsterclaw · 8 months ago
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You end up being responsible for Jeon Jungkook, who's impulsive, annoying and in the habit of breaking the law. Unfortunately for you, he's also funny and sexy as fuck. There's no way this can end well, can it?
Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader
Genre: Crack, smut, rookie lawyer reader and criminal JK
Rating: 18+
Word count: 11k
Warnings: Sex, swearing, criminal activity, smoking
Present day
‘Who,’ breathes Gracie, your new client, ‘the fuck is that?’
You look in the direction she’s facing, and die inside, as the black custom Skyline glides to a smooth stop on the road, in front of you.
‘Uh, so I’ll call when I hear back about the patents,’ you say hurriedly, before….
Too late. 
The passenger door opens, and you hear Gracie gasp audibly as she sees the man in the driver’s seat.
His wavy dark hair almost covers his eyes. He rakes his tattooed hand through his hair casually, his silver piercings gleaming in the light from the streetlamps above you.
You get in before he can say anything, shutting the door firmly behind you. 
‘Just drive,’ you say, through gritted teeth.
‘Seatbelt,’ he reminds you, but he’s already pulling away from the curb.
You buckle up and stare out the window so you don’t have to look at his ridiculously pretty face.
‘Nice skirt,’ he says.
‘Don’t talk to me,’ you snap.
‘Fine,’ he says, just to annoy you.
He flicks the music on, and the interior of the car fills with the pulsing synth of the early 90s house that he’s been into lately.
He’s a good driver, you’ll give him that.
By the time he pulls into the underground car park of your building, your head is pounding from the loud music he’s played the entire journey home.
You know from experience that if you complain he’ll just turn it up louder.
‘Did you get into anything when I was with my client?’ you ask, because you have to.
The lying asshole has the audacity to give you an innocent look. It’s surprisingly effective, he was born with the wide eyes and pouty lips required to pull it off.
You remind yourself again that Jeon Jungkook is not to be trusted.
You raise an eyebrow, and wait.
Finally, he says, ‘Nothing.’
You harden your stare.
‘Nothing,’ he insists. 
He kills the engine and you both exit the car and head for the lifts.
He lives in the apartment next to yours, and the only reason a rich asshole like him is in your building is because his rich parents have paid for him to stay next to you, as his appointed guardian.
It’s an unconventional arrangement which he’d only agreed to because the alternative was jail time. 
You’d only agreed to it because his mother is your boss at the law firm you work at, and it’s not just that you need the job, but you’re also one step away from becoming an associate.
Jungkook holds the lift door open with a booted foot.
‘After you,’ he says.
‘The doors are automatic, you don’t have to hold them open,’ you point out.
You know he knows this.
Anyone who’s ever been in a lift knows it.
Jungkook admires himself in the lift mirrors. You look away, but not before he catches you looking at him.
‘Like what you see?’ he asks, voice velvety.
‘No,’ you say flatly, turning away.
He snickers softly but says nothing else.
You reach your floor and sigh with relief. 
Finally. 
It’s been a long day, and you can’t wait to go home and recharge in the solitude of your apartment.
You can already feel yourself sinking into the plushness of your new sofa after a hot shower. It’s Thursday, too, so there’s a new episode of your favourite drama being released today, and there’s leftovers in the fridge….
Jeon Jungkook’s annoying voice interrupts your daydream.
‘I have to go out again tonight,’ he tells you.
One stipulation his parents made to your unusual arrangement is that you have to accompany him whenever he leaves the apartment after dark.
‘Why?’ you ask, letting your irritation show in your tone.
‘I said I’d meet some guys,’ he says. He holds his hands up as you glare at him. ‘It’s for business.’
You’ve reached your door. You think longingly of your sofa and your drama, and stifle a sigh.
‘I just need a shower and to eat before we go,’ you say, resigned.
‘Fine. I’ll knock in an hour, ok?’ he says.
You don’t bother to respond.
By the time he knocks at your door, you’re out of your work clothes and in sweats and a hoodie.
At his surprised look you raise your eyebrows at him. 
‘Am I underdressed for your business meeting?’ you ask, like you care.
He rolls his eyes. ‘I just thought you only wore business pantsuits,’ he replies, smiling sweetly at you.
Your stomach growls. You’d spent too long in the shower and hadn’t had a chance to eat. It’d been worth it.
You ignore it and lock your apartment door.
‘I’m ready.’
Jungkook whistles the tune from a newish pop song as you head for the lifts.
He’s annoyingly melodic, and now the infectious tune’s in your head.
You focus on not humming along as you follow him to his car and get in the passenger seat.
‘Seatbelt,’ he says, and you roll your eyes.
‘Yes, mum.’ 
‘You look and act like you’re 14,’ Jungkook retorts, navigating out the car park.
‘Where are we going?’ you ask, looking out the window, ignoring his comment.
‘Verve,’ he replies, casual.
You sit up. ‘What?’
Verve is the newest, hottest restaurant in town. It opened a month ago, and it’s still impossible to get a table.
‘I can’t go there dressed like this!’
Jungkook shrugs. ‘No one asked you to get into your PJs.’
You’re livid. ‘You should have told me.’
Jungkook shrugs again. ‘You didn’t ask specifically.’
You have to sit on your hands to stop yourself from punching his smug, pretty face. You catch sight of yourself in the rearview mirror and whip the towelling headband you use when you wash your face off your head.
You seethe silently in the passenger seat until Jungkook turns to you. 
‘Stop breathing so angrily.’
‘I’m sorry my essential functions are expressing unacceptable emotions to you,’ you gripe. 
‘That’s not normal breathing,’ Jungkook argues.
There’s a few beats of silence, then Jungkook prods your side. 
‘Don’t hold your breath either.’
You suck in an irritated breath and try to moderate your tone. ‘In the future I’d appreciate some notice if we’re going anywhere with a dress code,’ you tell Jungkook.
‘Fine,’ Jungkook agrees. ‘I like short skirts, if I may express a preference.’
‘You. May. Not.’ You say, clipped.
He just laughs to himself as he reverses effortlessly into a slot on the street outside the restaurant.
‘These guys,’ he starts, then breaks off. ‘Are you wearing a bra?’
You cross your arms across your chest defensively. ‘Shut up.’
‘Your tits look great,’ Jungkook says. 
‘Shut up!’
Jungkook opens the door to Verve, and you wait nervously next to him.
You can feel eyes on you, as soft and snuggly as your hoodie and sweats are, they make you stand out in all the wrong ways in this place full of people in discreet labels.
You shuffle self-consciously as the host arrives and gives you a none-too-subtle once-over.
He opens his mouth, and Jungkook says, ‘We have a reservation at eight, Frederic said he’d block out the terrace for us.’
The whole demeanour of the host changes at Jungkook’s words. 
‘Of course. You must be Mr Jeon.’ 
You find yourself being ushered through the restaurant and up a back staircase to a huge terrace with heat lamps, a glass ceiling and Koi pond in the centre of the terrace. 
‘What the fuck,’ you mutter. 
Jungkook gives you his greasiest smile, and you glower at him in response.
The two men he’s here to meet are dressed like mafia consiglieres, and they, like the host, look at you doubtfully as you approach with Jungkook.
‘My lawyer,’ Jungkook says, not bothering to introduce you by name or with any accuracy.
You’re a lawyer, but not his lawyer, and you’re glad for it because you have no obligation to keep any of his assholery confidential.
The mafia guys eye you with renewed respect, and you keep quiet.
‘Before we start, can we order? My lawyer here skipped dinner,’ Jungkook says.
You’re so surprised at his thoughtful gesture you stare at him. 
He ignores you, already looking through the tablet one of the men has handed him. 
***
The buzzing of your phone is insistent and pervasive, pulling you further and further out of the warm cocoon of the best sleep you’ve had in a while.
You’re floating on clouds, weightless and boneless and warm and in the distance you can see an angel, smiling at you. He’s got dark hair, a physique sculpted by Italian masters, and a tattoo sleeve…
What the fuck!
You bolt upright and your phone falls off your pillow, clattering onto the floor.
You pick it up and accidentally answer, only to be greeted by the grinning ass face of one Jeon Jungkook.
It’s a video call, which means…. 
He can see you!
With a horrified yelp you toss the phone onto your bed.
‘I’ve already seen everything,’ he assures you, muffled on account of your phone being face down in your sheets. ‘Now you’re awake, can I come over?’
‘What do you want, Jeon Jungkook?’ you snap, pulling your covers up to your neck.
‘I want your opinion on something,’ he says.
‘What’s the magic word?’ you ask. 
‘I’ll tell my mum you’re associate material….’
‘Please, don’t act like I don’t deserve that position off my own back,’ you reply, bored. 
‘I’ll let you watch me work out shirtless at the gym,’ he offers.
‘Like you’re going to be able to resist posting a gym selfie later,’ you scoff. 
‘Please,’ he says. 
You sigh. ‘Fine. Give me five minutes to brush my teeth.’
‘Don’t feel you need to put anything on, over that silky pink thing you’re wearing,’ Jungkook tells you.
You hang up without taking the bait.
When he knocks at your door, you give him an assessing look. 
‘Does helping you involve anything illegal?’ you ask.
‘I have a date. You’re a woman,’ Jungkook says, adding ‘almost’ under his breath. 
You scowl at him. ‘Go on, keep insulting me, that’ll make me want to help you more.’
He holds out a mug. ‘I made you coffee.’
You look suspiciously at it. ‘Did you roofie this?’
Jungkook scoffs. ‘Please why wouldn’t I want you to remember the best sexual experience you’ll ever have.’
‘Get out of my apartment.’
‘No, please,’ he pleads, holding up his hands in surrender. ‘I need your advice on which set to wear.’
You realise he’s also holding a garment bag.
‘Fine,’ you say, waving a hand.
You sip your coffee. It’s surprisingly good, but you nearly choke on it when Jungkook slips his shirt over his head and starts unbuttoning his jeans.
‘Wait!’ you shriek. ‘What are you doing?’
He looks down at his beautiful naked torso, feigning confusion. You know he’s faking because of the smug smirk on his face.
‘I need to try them on so you know what they look like on me,’ he says, innocent.
‘There are two bedrooms in this apartment,’ you say, stern. ‘Use one of them to change. Do not come out until you are fully dressed.’
Jungkook pouts but still flexes a little as he struts past you. You pretend not to notice how his back muscles taper into his slender waist.
As he gets changed, you consider what you might want for breakfast. It’s Saturday, so the brunch place down the corner opens earlier. 
Shit! Saturday?
Jungkook mistakes the expression on your face as a reaction to his outfit rather than your own internal screaming.
‘Shit. I knew it. Too much?’ he asks, turning around so you can see how the rips running up the backs of his legs in the jeans he’s wearing go all the way up to the edges of his boxer briefs.
‘No, you look like a sexy whore,’ you say absently, scrolling your calendar.
You look up to see him frowning at you.
‘And yet, you’re not looking,’ he complains.
‘I have a date tonight too,’ you tell him.
He looks so surprised you toss a throw cushion at him.
‘Are you lying because you don’t want me to think you’re a sad workaholic who’s been chronically single since university?’ he asks, with such accuracy you throw another throw cushion at him.
You wonder if that’s why they’re called throw cushions.
‘It’s a blind date,’ you say. ‘My friend Hyunjin set it up. Also I don’t give a shit what you think, at least he’s not an ex-con.’
Jungkook looks hurt. ‘I’m not an ex-con either,’ he points out.
Which reminds you of your arrangement.
‘We can’t both go on dates tonight,’ you say. ‘I’ll cancel.’
‘What, so you can blame me for being single forever? No way. I’ll take care of it. Where’s your date?’
Jungkook pulls his phone out of the pocket of his almost jeans.
You tell him the name of the restaurant.
‘I’ll have my date there too,’ Jungkook decides. He flashes you a smarmy grin that makes you throw your last cushion at him.
He’s already heading out the door. ‘Pick you up later and we can go together,’ he says.
Your door closes behind him, then opens again almost immediately. 
‘By the way,’ he says, holding up a pair of your silk panties. ‘I’m borrowing these.’
You fumble for something else to throw at him but he’s already closed the door again.
His infuriating laughter echoes in your ears long after he’s gone.
***
Jungkook’s taunts sound in your head as you get ready for your date.
You gaze in the mirror at your reflection critically.
Is your dress too short? Are your shoulders weird looking? And what the hell is happening with your hair?
You remind yourself that you can’t go another year of being single at your family’s annual get-together. You can already hear your  Auntie Rina’s probing questions, your cousin Binna’s smug comments, your brother Jin’s increasingly acidic barbs to anyone who tries to criticise you.
Besides, it’d be nice to meet someone who’d care if you were sick or who’d come over to chase away a spider if it took up residence in your bathtub. 
You purse your lips for a coat of lip tint and put the wand back just in time before the familiar, side-of-fist banging on your door starts.
At least he’s consistent, you think ruefully to yourself as you yell, ‘Coming, keep all your clothes on!’ 
You pull on your coat and belt it snugly as you slip your shoes on.
You nearly get Jeon Jungkook’s fist in your face as you yank open the door.
You duck at the same time he startles and says ‘Shit, sorry!’
‘It’s fine,’ you say, hoisting your bag on your shoulder.
You turn to go and realise he’s still standing by your door, staring at you.
You’re conscious of your heels and bare legs and that you’re wearing more makeup than usual. 
‘Spare me whatever is about to come out of your mouth,’ you say, spiky.
You’re honestly one rude comment away from going back into your apartment and your cosy couch. You still haven’t caught up on your drama.
You head for the lifts without looking to see if he’s following.
***
Jungkook holds the door open for you at the restaurant your blind date picked.
‘Do you have a reservation?’ asks the hostess. 
You give her your date’s name and she beams at you. ‘Right over here, follow me.’
She leads you to a table where a man is already sitting waiting.
He stands as you approach, and holds his hand out.  ‘Jang Junwoo,’ he says.
You introduce yourself and notice he’s looking awkwardly over your shoulder.
You realise Jungkook’s still standing behind you. 
‘Can I get you something, Jungkook?’ you ask, teeth gritted.
‘Nope,’ he says, cheerfully. ‘I’m just waiting for you to move so I can take my seat.’
You realise with horror that he’s indicating the table right next to yours in this cosy restaurant.
‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ you say. 
Jungkook winks at you. ‘I hear the steak’s good.’
***
Jang Junwoo is kind of pretentious, you think, but then again a lot of these finance bros are. He spent a minute more than necessary pontificating over the wine’s bouquet, but he’s been polite enough to the waitress, and he has asked you a few questions about yourself.
Looks wise, he’s kind of your type, you think. He’s clean cut, tall and with a lean physique set off by his well-fitted shirt. He’s not got any visible tattoos or piercings, which is fine with you.
You’re not into that at all.
Beside you, Jungkook’s date, a petite bottle blonde in a low-cut dress with the best natural-looking cleavage you’ve seen laughs at one of his jokes.
She’s been laughing a lot, which is funny, because Jungkook’s really not that funny at all.
You realise Junwoo’s asked you a question.
‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise. ‘I missed what you said.’
‘He asked if you like to work out,’ Jungkook supplies helpfully from beside you, barely two feet away. 
He leans forward, and in a stage whisper, tells Junwoo, ‘I’ve never seen her in our gym.’
‘Stop eavesdropping on my date,’ you hiss. 
Jungkook continues, ‘But she looks good in athleisure.’
He smiles like he’s just helped you, and you turn pointedly away. 
‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise again to Junwoo. ‘I’m his court appointed guardian. It was this arrangement or prison, wasn’t it, Jungkook?’
Instead of looking put off, Jungkook’s date looks even more intrigued.
Junwoo, bemused, says, ‘Don’t worry about it. Should we get dessert?’
You split up with Jungkook after dinner when Junwoo suggests a nightcap at a bar nearby.
Jungkook assures you he’ll go straight home. 
Looking at the way he and his date are draped over each other, you don’t doubt it. Thankfully, your apartment building was built pre-war and the walls are decent quality.
Junwoo ushers you into the bar, and, alone together with him for the first time all night, you feel your self-consciousness return. 
You catch him looking at your thigh where your skirt’s ridden up and when he sees you’ve noticed, he smiles smoothly like it’s no big deal.
He orders another bottle of wine and you let him drink most of it because your tolerance is low.
His tendency towards pretentiousness is more pronounced when he’s tipsy, and it’s when he’s telling you about how you should try to experience genuine Lyonnaise cuisine that you decide you’ve had enough for now.
‘I should go,’ you say, smiling at him. ‘Thank you for a lovely evening.’
‘I’ll escort you home,’ he says. ‘It’s late.’
He pulls on his coat and offers his arm, and you take it because you’re three blocks away from home and you can walk it in under ten minutes.
When you reach your door, you turn and hold out your hand. 
‘Thanks again, Junwoo, it was really kind of you to walk me home.’
He takes your hand and shakes, but doesn’t let go.
‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’ he asks.
‘Not tonight,’ you say firmly, trying to pull your hand away. 
‘I paid for dinner, and drinks,’ he points out, like that’s going to convince you.
‘You insisted,’ you counter. ‘Anyway, good night.’
He’s about to say something else but you don’t hear it because the lift dings and the doors slide open, and Jungkook steps out. 
His shirt is half undone, and there’s a big-ass hickey on his neck, but you’ve never been so glad to see him. 
‘Ah Jungkook,’ you say. ‘Did you have a good night?’
Jungkook pauses in front of you and Junwoo, eyeing the way your hands are still entwined.
‘Yeah, I did. How about you?’ he asks. 
‘We’re doing great, bro,’ Junwoo says.
‘Yeah?’ Jungkook asks, eyes on you. 
You swallow your pride. ‘Not great, JK.’
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook agrees. He makes eye contact with Junwoo. ‘You should get going, bro.’
Junwoo’s hand tightens around yours. ‘Yeah, bro?’
Jungkook shrugs. ‘You know why she’s my court appointed guardian? I’m not going back to Cheonan.’
At the mention of the notorious maximum security prison, Junwoo’s eyebrows rise. 
He squeezes your hand again, hard, then lets you go.
Jungkook stares at him the whole way as he leaves.
As soon as the lift doors close behind Junwoo, you sigh and slump against your door. 
‘Thanks, Jungkook.’
‘No worries,’ Jungkook says. He runs a hand through his dishevelled hair. ‘Guess my date went better than yours, huh?’
‘I shouldn’t have let that asshole pay. I knew he’d take it as an invitation,’ you say, ruefully. 
Jungkook looks at you. ‘Is that what he said? What an asshole. Jangmi told me not to expect anything.’
You look pointedly at the hickey on his neck, and he laughs but doesn’t say anything else.
You fish your keys out of your bag. ‘Anyway, thanks. Your timing was pretty good.’
‘Yeah I waited in the car outside for you and saw you guys arrive,’ Jungkook says.
You stare at him. ‘What?’
‘Wanted to make sure you got home ok,’ Jungkook says, yawning.
He’s already heading to his own apartment.
‘Hey,’ you call. ‘I didn’t know you were in Cheonan.’
Jungkook laughs. ‘Youth detention centre, not the prison. Spent four months there when I was 14.’
He’s reached his own door. 
‘Good night, Y/N. You looked really pretty tonight.’
He smiles at you crookedly and goes inside.
***
Six months earlier
You have no idea why you’ve been summoned to Jeon Mido’s office, and waiting outside in her secretary’s workspace isn’t helping your nerves.
You’ve been working for Albion for two years, and in that time you’ve never met her. 
Why would you?
She’s one of the founding partners of Albion, the biggest law firm in the city, and you’re a relative newbie hired straight out of law school two years ago. 
You’ve never had cause to venture beyond the tenth floor of this Albion-owned building, and now you’re in the penthouse.
The doors open, and Jeon Mido steps out.
‘Ms L/N,’ she says. ‘Please, come in.’
You take a seat in front of her sleek modern desk and wait.
‘Park Sejun tells me you worked extremely hard on your last case,’ she says, gazing at you. There’s a shrewdness in her eyes that reminds you that she built this law firm from nothing, despite her soft demeanour.
‘Thank you,’ you say.
‘You did an excellent job.’
You thank her again, wondering where she’s going with this. Is she about to dismiss you? Surely Park Sejun could have done that for her.
You haven’t done anything to warrant a promotion.
‘I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,’ Jeon Mido says. 
She sets her hands on her desk gracefully. 
‘I heard what you said about the defendant on your last case. He has a record, he’s been in and out of trouble since he was a teenager. Our client was the plaintiff and you did enough to ensure the win but you didn’t go for the jugular like some of your colleagues would have.’
You get a sinking feeling. Is this why you’re being fired? Because you didn’t completely annihilate your opponent?
She seems to be waiting for a response, so you compose your thoughts.
‘I knew we had enough to win,’ you say carefully. ‘I didn’t want to waste my efforts completely destroying the defendant’s credibility when his only mistake was that he relied on his staff instead of verifying things for himself.’
‘That’s not what you said, though,’ she prompts.
You think frantically but can’t remember anything you said that would have stood out, particularly. 
You sigh. If you’re going to get fired, you might as well come clean.
‘My brother Jin got in trouble when we were teenagers,’ you say. ‘He got mixed up with a gang and he was too naive to get out before the gang leader got busted.’
You’ll spare her the details. ‘Anyway, he’s got a criminal record now, and because of it he can’t get a ‘respectable’ job. He couldn’t be a lawyer like me and he’d be a hell of a lot better, if I’m being honest.’
You shrug. ‘He made a mistake but he’s still the best person I know. I guess the defendant reminded me of him.’
Jeon Mido’s looking closely at you, but hasn’t said anything. 
‘Thank you for hiring me,’ you say. ‘If you want my resignation —-‘
‘You’re mistaken,’ Jeon Mido says, finally. ‘I don’t want to dismiss you. I wanted to ask for your help.’
Which was how you ended up in a coffee shop with Jeon Mido, waiting nervously to meet her son.
Jeon Jungkook.
She’d filled you in on the details. He was her younger son, and he’d been in and out of trouble with the law since his teenage years for various things. Fighting, stealing cars, and even, hilariously, once for posing as a valet at a high society event and parking all the cars at the foot of Mount Samo for the illegal drag racers to take their pick. 
After his most recent infraction she and her husband had sat down with Jungkook and given him an ultimatum to clean up his act or be cut off from his family’s fortune. 
You were to be an additional factor to tip the scales in his favour. 
Her proposition that you be Jungkook’s unofficial guardian and try to keep him out of trouble had sounded ludicrous at first, you were barely responsible enough to look after yourself. You certainly weren’t responsible enough to become a glorified babysitter to a grown man with a history of getting his own way. 
The only reason you hadn’t disagreed to this insane-sounding plan outright was that Jeon Mido had built the very building you worked in, from the ground up, off her own intelligence, strength and force of will, at a time when successful self-made women in South Korea were virtually unheard of. 
Additionally, Jungkook had agreed to meet you so he must be somewhat willing to comply with his parents’ ultimatum. 
You’d been expecting a degree of charm and good looks in her son, Jeon Mido was an attractive woman, but you still had to stop yourself from staring when Jeon Jungkook arrived.
Tall, broad-shouldered and built like an athlete, he’d smiled at you and offered his hand, and you’d shook it praying your own weren’t clammy with nervousness.
He was so good looking he made you want to throw up.
If this was what a life of crime made Jeon Jungkook look like, it certainly suited him.
He flicked his tongue out over his lip ring, dark eyes on you, and you wondered what that tongue would feel like on your skin.
Fuck. 
Fuck.
You were fucked from the moment you saw him, and it was only much later that you realised how bad the damage was.
It’d started off innocently enough. He’d moved into the apartment next to yours.
You’d hung out together a bit to get to know each other, and that first week had been fine.
Then he’d said, casually, one evening, that he was popping out for a cigarette, and he’d be back in fifteen minutes.
It was three frantic days before you found him, in some seedy pool hall, drunk and blazed with a new tattoo and the keys to a Maserati he didn’t own in his front jeans pocket.
He’d made you fish the keys out yourself, and he’d giggled like a schoolgirl the entire time.
After that, you’d been more insistent about sticking to the stipulations his parents had laid out, and had accompanied him everytime he left the apartment after dark.
You’d realised what a mistake that was when he offered to buy you brunch and paid all in unmarked bills out of a duffel bag filled with stacks of cash. 
Jeon Jungkook didn’t confine his criminal activity to night times.
Fuck that shit.
Then there was that time he’d offered to pick you up from work in a new car you’d assumed was his parents’. The penny had only dropped when the police sirens had sounded behind you and you’d asked, nervously, if he should pull over.
Jungkook had taken one look in the rearview mirror, and said, dismissively, ‘It’s only one patrol car. I can lose them, easily.’
He’d proceeded to do just that in a high-speed car chase in a stolen car that spanned the busiest road in the city.
It’s the first and only time you’ve been on the seven o’clock news. 
On the plus, you’d found out that he really was as good a driver as he’d claimed. 
You’d gone to see Jeon Mido in her office as soon as your legs stopped feeling like jelly, ready to apologise and say you weren’t able to do the job you’d agreed to do.
To your surprise, she’d just encouraged you to carry on.
For his part, Jungkook’s always treated you with an irreverent kind of tolerance. He’s annoying as hell and you’ve learned not to trust most of what he says, but for all his sexual innuendo around you, he’s never once crossed the line you’d drawn in the sand at the beginning. 
He’s danced along it a few times, though.
By the time you’re six months into your year-long arrangement, you’ve reached an uneasy stalemate with Jungkook. 
Sometimes, you almost like the guy. 
Annoyingly, he’s also stayed as hot as the day you met him.
***
Present day
You haven’t seen Jungkook in a few days, so you text him to check on him.
You’re already trying to remember how to get to the strip club you found him in the last time he went missing when he texts back. 
Jungkook: I’m dying
He’s fucked with you enough times that you’re not all that concerned yet.
Y/N: Yeah? How?
Jungkook: The plague
You consider this as you plate your lunch. You lift a forkful of greens to your lips, then hesitate, and sigh.
Five minutes later you’re knocking at his door. 
He answers so quickly you wonder if he was waiting on the other side of it.
He does look like hell, to be fair. 
His nose and eyes are red, and he looks pale under his golden tan. He’s wrapped up in a duvet from chin to feet. 
‘I’m dying,’ he tells you, melodramatic as fuck.
‘Do you have a cold.’
‘It’s way worse than a cold,’ he insists.
You shake your head, but he does look worse than you’ve ever seen him.
You sigh. ‘When did you last eat?’
Jungkook’s already looking at you so hopefully you haven’t the heart to say anything as you turn back around and let him into your apartment.
‘Try not to infect me,’ you tell him, as you lay a place setting in front of him at your kitchen island.
Jungkook replies, ‘I got my regular tests done last week, all negative.’
You look at him in disgust. ‘With your cold, asshole.’
He leers at you, but it lacks his usual panache.
You serve out the food and sit down opposite him to eat.
‘I always use condoms, anyway,’ he says, after a moment. He winks at you, but it’s still half-hearted. 
You pass him a glass of water.
‘Drop the sex pest act for a few minutes,’ you advise him, helpfully. ‘No one’s fucking anyone in the state you’re in, anyway.’ 
He looks at you, and you can almost see him clicking through the repertoire of innuendoes he has in his head.
Finally, he says, ‘Thanks for this. It’s delicious.’
You tilt your head, pretending to be confused. 
‘Did you just say something without sexual connotations, Jeon Jungkook?’
His smile is crooked.
‘Don’t worry, I’m still thinking sexual things about you in my head,’ he assures you.
You laugh. ‘Shut up and eat.’
***
Jungkook starts to look a bit less like death warmed over after he’s eaten, but the clingy asshole’s parked himself on your sofa and shows no sign of moving.
You shrug and put on the TV. At least if he’s with you, there’s less chance of him being in that strip club where there’s no parking outside. What a ballache that had been.
You put on the latest episode of your drama and he perks up. 
‘I haven’t seen this episode yet,’ he tells you. 
His duvet’s slipped lower, and you’ve yet to see anything but his skin.
‘Please tell me you’re dressed under there,’ you say, warningly. 
‘Yeah but I can take it all off,’ Jungkook offers.
You don’t dignify that with a response, just pass him some flu meds and a bottle of kombucha and settle in to watch the show.
After the episode ends he still shows no sign of moving, so you put on a movie and pass him some snacks.
By the time the movie ends it’s dark, and when he asks you what you want for dinner you let him order takeout for both of you.
You eat sitting alongside each other on the couch as the next movie plays.
After a while you realise he’s fallen asleep, and that this is the most male company you’ve had in a while, and that you don’t hate it.
You don’t hate him.
In fact, in the dim light from the TV and with his mouth closed and his hair rumpled over his relaxed sleeping face, he looks….. 
Tempting.
Like the boyfriend you could have if you could ever get over yourself enough to date someone seriously.
For some reason that makes you feel a little sad.
That you’re so starved for male company you’re longing after your neighbour who’s only hanging out with you because you’ve made an arrangement with his parents. 
If you’re being honest with yourself, he’d probably have never shown an interest in you otherwise.
You pull the duvet over his shoulder, switch off the TV and top up his water and meds before heading to bed.
***
The banging on your door startles you and your elbow jostles the glass on the edge of your kitchen counter. It drops to the floor and shatters, and you think dryly that it’s a metaphor for how close you are to the edge of killing Jeon fucking Jungkook.
You yank open the door with a scowl.
‘Yes, Jeon Jungkook?’ 
He looks a little edgy himself. ‘I want to show you something.’
‘Is it your dick?’ you ask, tiredly, letting him in.
‘Always, but it’s something different today.’
You glance at the clock. It’s six in the evening. 
‘Watch out,’ you say, as he passes the kitchen. ‘I dropped a glass.’
He doesn’t even blink. 
There’s a nervous energy about him today, he looks like he’s buzzing out of his skin.
You follow him warily to the window that overlooks the street behind your building.
‘Are we looking out for the police?’ you ask, in a dramatic whisper.
He gives you a half-smile. ‘There were two plainclothes cops staking out the place all of last week. I think they’re dealing out of apartment 4B.’
You stare at him. ‘Are you serious?’
He scoffs. ‘How do you not notice these things?’
‘I never really have to worry about the police coming for me,’ you say, straightfaced.
‘Sucks to be you,’ he says, without his usual conviction.
He reaches down towards his jeans and your scowl returns. ‘Jungkook, I really don’t want to see your dick.’
‘Stop lying,’ he says, but what he takes out is a small black rectangular plastic object.
It’s about the size of half of his outstretched palm. 
You wonder where he’s going with this. 
He says, ‘Look.’
You both watch as a man in a business suit pulls up to a parking spot on the street, gets out and locks his car. The headlights flash, twice.
He heads into the apartment building opposite yours.
As soon as he’s out of sight, Jungkook hands you the tiny black rectangle. 
‘Press the button.’
You press the small grey button, and to your surprise, the car headlights flash again.
The car’s unlocked.
‘What the—-‘ 
‘It’s a car key cloning device,’ Jungkook says. 
He takes it back from you.
‘All I have to do is press it at the same time as the person locking the car presses their own key, and it clones the signal.’
He says, with more than a hint of wistfulness, ‘I could steal any car on this street.’
You’re shaking your head. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘I made it,’ he tells you. ‘I didn’t invent the tech, my friend did, but I made this.’
His eyes meet yours. 
‘Can you keep it?’
His words hang in the air between you. 
He mistakes your silence for hesitance. 
‘I just — ‘
He clears his throat and starts again. There’s pleading in his voice, a wild kind of spark in his eyes.
‘Can you keep it? I don’t want it to be this easy to steal a car tonight.’
You swallow past the lump in your throat. He’s never asked for your help like this before.
He usually goes ahead with whatever impulse he has and you’re stuck playing catch up.
Today, he’s given you a head start.
You take the device from him and stick it in your bra.
‘Don’t try to seduce me to get it back,’ you warn.
He’s already eyeing up your tits. 
He clears his throat again. 
‘Actually, I’m surprised you managed to fit it in there. Are you on your period? Your tits look huge.’
As usual, you don’t deign to respond.
‘I was going to make dinner,’ you say. ‘Do you want some?’
‘You can cook me dinner,’ he agrees, like he’s doing you a favour. 
‘But wait. Let me clean up that glass first,’ he says.
‘It’s fine,’ you say. 
He stops you. ‘Nah. Look at your hands.’
You hold a hand out, palm up, and he traces a callused finger along your life line.
Warmth unfurls along your skin, following the path of his finger.
You look up to see him looking at you, heat in his eyes. 
Your heart pounds, slow, and his tongue flicks along his lower lip.
When he speaks, his voice has dropped, low.
‘You’ve probably never even changed the oil in your car,’ he says, but he sounds affectionate, almost.
‘I wouldn’t want you to cut yourself.’
He smiles, and lets go of your hand. 
Your skin feels like it’s crackling with electricity from his touch, and god help you, you want more.
You don’t trust yourself to speak.
Jungkook says, very quietly, ‘You’re doing something for me, let me do this for you.’
Your eyes meet again, and you find your voice. 
‘The oven needs a clean, too, if you’re offering.’
He laughs, and just like that, whatever that moment was, ends.
‘I’ll clean your oven,’ he says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.  ‘Put a bun in it too.’
‘You’re disgusting,’ you complain, trying to punch him, but he’s already too far away.
***
You’re balancing on the back of the couch on your tip toes, trying to reach the lamp shade so you can change the blown lightbulb in your hanging lights, when the now familiar banging starts on your door.
You turn too quickly, lose your balance and fall headlong onto the floor. 
The resulting crash against the parquet flooring is all the louder because Jungkook’s stopped banging on your door.
You roll onto your back, groaning a little as the wrist you held out to protect your face flares with pain.
Jungkook’s started banging again, and your phone, out of reach on the coffee table, starts ringing.
You can just about make out his name on the screen, and the ridiculous selfie he took of himself shirtless that he put in as his profile on your phone.
All the racket is enough to make you sit up and hobble to the door.
‘Shit, are you ok? I heard a crash,’ says Jungkook, wide-eyed.
‘I’m not good with blood,’ he warns, but he’s checking you over gently anyway.
‘What was so urgent you needed to bang on my door?’ you ask, grumpy.
He presses your sore wrist, gently, and you wince.
‘I got pizza and wanted to know if you wanted some,’ he says. He ushers you to your couch. 
‘I’m getting ice,’ he calls over his shoulder.
‘You could have texted to ask if I wanted pizza,’ you call after him.
He emerges with a bag of frozen peas you didn’t know you had.
‘But then I wouldn’t get to see your face,’ he protests. ‘Also, you never answer my video calls, not since I saw you in your underwear that time.’
You don’t bother correcting him. 
He wraps the peas in a towel and passes the bundle to you. 
‘Your wrist looks bad, you should get it checked out,’ he advises. 
You grimace. ‘I have a case coming up,’ you tell him.
‘Just tell them it was a sex injury,’ Jungkook suggests, helpfully. He offers you a hand to get up. ‘Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital to get checked out.’
‘Fine,’ you say. ‘Grab the pizza.’
***
You’re waiting to see the doctor with Jungkook and trying to ignore the fact that he’s pulled a burner phone out of his back pocket.
He glances around furtively and you’re craning your neck to look at the screen when your name is called.
The doctor who’s said your name looks at Jungkook. 
‘Mr Jeon,’ she says. ‘What is it this time? Another broken metacarpal from fighting?’
Jungkook’s face creases into a smile and you can almost hear the adoring sighing of men and women around the room.
‘Dr Lim,’ he says. ‘You know I don’t break my hand anymore since I started winning all the time.’
You gag at his corniness, but Dr Lim just smiles back. 
‘Well, you’re always welcome to get checked out for any injuries,’ she says. ‘You have my number.’
‘Did you save it on your burner?’ you ask loudly, but they both ignore you.
By the time you’ve had an X-ray and been told your wrist is just sprained, not broken, you’ve heard enough of Jungkook’s smarmy flirting that your ears are burning.
‘Yeah, I’m still going to the gym every day,’ you mimic, flexing your bicep as you get into Jungkook’s car. ‘Want to feel?’
Jungkook rolls his eyes. ‘I don’t talk like that.’
You give him your sleaziest grin. ‘Wow you have your name embroidered on your white coat? Amazing!’
Jungkook starts the car. ‘Still don’t talk like that,’ he mutters.
‘Yeah, let me take you for a spin in my Skyline sometime,’ you say, puffing out your chest and deepening your voice.
‘Seatbelt,’ Jungkook says. 
When you reach for the seatbelt and wince because you forgot about your wrist, he sighs.
You press back into the seat, startled, as he leans over you to fasten your seatbelt for you.
He pauses with his face directly in front of yours. 
He’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek.
He leans forward and kisses you. 
It’s a peck, and over before you know it, but it’s enough to shut you up.
‘Stop being cute,’ he says. ‘Or I’ll kiss you again.’
He throws the car into gear.
‘Besides,’ he adds. ‘The only woman I’ve tried to impress with this car is you.’
You’re staring at him, still trying to process, when he adds, thoughtfully, ‘then again, I haven’t had this car very long….’
***
You’re trying to get your suitcase down from on top of your wardrobe when there’s a blur of movement in the periphery of your vision. 
You scream and hightail it off the ladder you’re on.
The spider you saw stops right above the corner of the ceiling where your suitcase is.
You’ve already dialled Jungkook without even thinking about it.
He answers with a lazy, drawled, ‘yo’, but his tone sharpens quickly when he hears your voice and panicked breathing.
‘Jungkook. There’s a spider holding my suitcase hostage,’ you whisper, dread in your voice.
‘Why are you whispering?’ Jungkook asks. You can hear the amusement in his voice, and for once you don’t care that he’s laughing at you.
You fight to regulate your volume. ‘It might hear me and attack,’ you say. 
It seems completely reasonable to you.
Jungkook laughs so loudly you have to hold the phone away from your ear. 
‘What does he want with your suitcase?’ Jungkook asks, when he’s re-composed himself enough to speak. 
He’s definitely laughing at you rather than with you, but you’ll take any amount of taunting if he deals with the spider for you. 
‘Please,’ you plead, ‘can you get rid of it.’
Jungkook yawns. ‘Ok. But don’t expect me to put on a shirt.’
A moment later he’s in your apartment, looking up at the ceiling at the spider.
‘Just grab the suitcase please,’ you say. ‘The spider can have this room from now on.’
Jungkook snorts. 
He grabs the suitcase and places it next to you, then, before you can work out what he’s going to do, he taps on the wall next to the spider and it runs down to the floor.
You scream and jump into his arms.
He really did come over bare-chested, the asshole, and the sweatpants he’s barely wearing are low on his hips, so it’s a little more indecent than you’d like, but there’s no fucking way you’re sharing the floor with a spider that can run faster than you.
Automatically, like he’s done this a lot, Jungkook’s big hand reaches down to support your ass. 
He’s still laughing. ‘Is this like, do you want to see my cat, but it’s a spider instead?’ 
You ignore his taunts and bury your face in his shoulder.
His laughter fades. 
‘Shit. Are you crying? Listen, don’t worry. I’ll get rid of it, ok?’
You’re too scared to look at the floor. 
‘You don’t even know where it is now,’ you sob.
‘I know exactly where that fucker is,’ Jungkook assures you. 
He’s probably lying but you don’t want to check for yourself.
He deposits you onto the bed and tries to peel your legs off his waist. 
‘As much as I want to fuck you, let me deal with this spider first, ok?’
At his words, you loosen your legs from around him and he pats your thigh. 
‘Stop crying. Stay here and I’ll get rid of it,’ he promises.
It’s several long minutes and muttered curses later before he returns, a little sweaty but with a glass of water for you.
He hands it to you and brushes your hair back from your face as you drink.
‘I didn’t know you were that scared of spiders,’ he says. His tone is gentler than you’ve ever heard it.
‘They bite,’ you say. 
‘They bite—-‘ Jungkook trails off, shaking his head.
Jungkook sits next to you on the bed. ‘I’m sorry I laughed at you.’
‘It’s ok,’ you say. You swipe at your tearstained face. ‘Did you get it?’
‘Promise I did,’ Jungkook says. ‘Cross my heart. That fucker isn’t bothering you again.’
‘Where did you put him?’ you ask. ‘In the bin?’
‘Nah. Chucked him out the window,’ Jungkook says. ‘Fuck Spiderman.’
‘Fuck Spiderman,’ you echo.
‘Listen, if you have a spider problem again just call me, ok? Or you can text if you’re worried the spider’s going to hear you. I’ll take care of it.’
Jungkook grins. ‘I won’t put a shirt on either.’
He leans back onto his forearms, and the way his abs stand out make you feel pretty tingly, you’re not going to lie.
‘I don’t mind you staring,’ he tells you. ‘I know I look good.’
You roll your eyes, but he’s been so decent about helping you that you’ll let him have that.
‘What’s the suitcase for, anyway?’ he asks.
You sigh. ‘It’s my annual family get together this Saturday,’ you tell him. ‘My entire extended family go to this beach house and we have dinner together and hang out. It’s been a thing since I was a kid.’
‘Sounds nice,’ he says, but his tone is incredulous.
‘It is nice,’ you say. You smile a little. ‘My grandma cooks and my brother Jin goes fishing and I have so many little cousins now.’
You get up. ‘Of course, there’s the usual round of relatives asking ‘why aren’t you settled down and having babies?’ And my cousin Binna’s a pain, but it’s only once a year.’
‘It’s too bad Junwoo was such an ass,’ you say. ‘I was hoping if I came with a date this year that it’d take some of the pressure off.’
‘I can help,’ Jungkook says.
‘For the last time, Jungkook,’ you say, ‘we are not having a baby together.’
‘Firstly,’ Jungkook says, ‘our baby would be so good looking. But that’s not what I meant.’
He looks tentative for the first time since you met him.
‘I can go with you, if you want.’
***
Your suitcase is by the door, ready to go.
You’re waiting for Jungkook to come by so you can leave together for your family retreat.
You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest. It had felt like a good idea having Jungkook come with you at the time. After all, with the amount of time you’ve spent together over the last few months, he knows recent you as well as anyone.
He’d promised on pain of death and dismemberment that he would refrain from excessive sexual innuendo in front of your elders, but that was all you’d managed to get out of him.
You’re almost afraid to look at him when he knocks on your door.
You start from his feet, in the boots he’s favoured lately, to jeans with no visible rips that you can see in the front, to his fly which is done completely up, to his belt and then a white wife-beater over which he’s layered a black shirt.
When you get to his face he’s smirking at you. 
‘Spent a long time checking out my dick,’ he comments.
‘Just checking your fly was done up,’ you say, semi-truthfully.
He lifts your suitcase for you.
At your expression he says, ‘Don’t worry, you can pay me back by giving me a blow job whilst I’m driving us to the coast.’
‘Sounds dangerous,’ you reply.
‘Jagiya,’ he says, smarmy, ‘Danger is my middle name.’
‘Don’t ever call me that again,’ you threaten.
‘Princess?’ he wonders.
‘Shut up and drive, Jeon Jungkook.’
***
Jungkook’s driving is so steady that you fall asleep and wake only when he stops for petrol.
You look around, disoriented, and see him looking at you through the glass of the rear passenger window.
He opens the door. ‘Want anything from the shop?’
You yawn. ‘No thanks.’
When he gets back in the car, you say, ‘Hey, let me know what I owe you for gas.’
He snorts as he drives out of the petrol station. ‘You know my family owns the biggest manufacturing company in Busan, right?’
You shrug. ‘Money ain’t everything.’
He nods. ‘Yeah, money ain’t everything, if you’re just normal rich. I’m fuck you and all your ancestors rich.’
You say, lightly, ‘I’m never paying my share of takeout again.’
He laughs. ‘That’s what I like about you. You don’t give a shit.’
‘That’s not true,’ you protest. ‘How many people would have chased you across town to track you down when you stole that French ambassador’s diplomatic car?’
He’s quiet. 
The road stretches out in front of you.
‘I’m seeing someone, you know,’ he says.
‘What?’ you scoff. ‘Who’s dating you?’
‘Not like that,’ he tells you. He glances at you in the rearview. 
‘I don’t want you to have to be a crutch for me forever.’
Now it’s your turn to be quiet. 
Since that time when Jungkook came over to hand over his key fob cloning device, he’s dropped various things over at your apartment for various periods of time.
A pen drive.
The keys to his Skyline.
His burner phone.
Once, a black jewelled thong, but you think he was just fucking with you that time.
You cleared a drawer in your hall table for him, and things appear and disappear.
He doesn’t always talk about it, not like that first time. 
‘I’m glad you’re working on it,’ you say, sincerely.
You lean back in your seat. ‘You know you can always drop stuff off in the drawer if you need to.’
‘Oh in the drawer?’ he says, feigning surprise. ‘What about your spare room wardrobe? I left weed and maybe a couple of stacks in there.’
‘Fucking hell,’ you grumble, ‘No wonder all my linens smell like a college dorm.’
You’re both smiling.
‘Thanks for helping me out with this,’ you say. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘How come you couldn’t get one of those Yonsei dipshits to take you?’
You roll your eyes. ‘Firstly, you asshole, I went to SNU.’
Jungkook snickers.
‘Secondly, sad as it is, you’re the only man I’ve spent any time with lately.’
‘That’s what I mean,’ he says. ‘You’re hot, you put up with a lot of shit and you have an ass that won’t quit. How come you’re not dating anyone?’
You look out the window. ‘You’re right, I’m such a catch, why am I single?’
Jungkook asks, ‘Are you really bad in bed?’
You’d laugh if the turn of conversation wasn’t so depressing.
‘Yeah. I’m really bad.’
‘I wouldn’t mind if you were a pillow princess with me,’ Jungkook says. You think he means it as a compliment.
You say, just to move the conversation on, ‘Did you bring any snacks?’
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook says. He reaches into the center console and tosses you a pack of corn chips. ‘Please feed me too.’
You spend the rest of the drive placing corn chips into Jeon Jungkook’s filthy but admittedly beautiful mouth.
***
You and Jungkook are one of the first to arrive at the beach house. Your parents and Jin are already there. 
You’re worried Jungkook might be nervous about meeting your parents, but he surprises you again.
Once introduced, he chats easily with your dad about cars, and you can tell from your dad’s reactions that he likes Jungkook.
Jin nudges you as you follow your parents and Jungkook into the house.
‘Binna’s going to be all over him,’ he says.
Your cousin is beautiful, sexy and could flirt with a rock.
You shrug. ‘Don’t worry, Jinnie. You’re still the prettiest around.’
Jin says, crossly, ‘I wasn’t worried about that.’
You’re both distracted by the arrival of your cousin and her children.
The minivan pulls up almost to the entrance of the beach house, and your cousin Daeun jumps out.
‘Dasom superglued her hand to Jinah’s face,’ she announces grimly. 
She hands you baby Taehyun. ‘Can you watch the baby? I’m taking them to the drugstore to see if they can give us anything to get this shit off.’
‘Mama said a bad word,’ chants Dasom. 
‘I’ll drive you,’ volunteers Jin.
He ushers Daeun and the girls into his car. 
You look for someone to help.
‘Need a hand?’ Jungkook asks, popping up from behind you.
You huff. ‘Can you sort this car out?’
Jungkook appraises the minivan in silence for a moment.
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook replies, serious. ‘It probably won’t sell for much as it is. I’ll have to take it apart to sell it for parts.’
You glare at him. ‘I meant park it, Jungkook, not sell it on the stolen cars black market.’
Jungkook laughs incredulously. ‘Stolen cars black market? What even is that? Have you learnt nothing from the last year?’
Taehyun, in your arms, giggles along with Jungkook. 
You can’t believe you’re being ridiculed simultaneously by both a baby and the grown-ass man you’re babysitting.
Jungkook’s still chuckling to himself as he maneuvres the minivan expertly into the space beside his car.
You can see him through the window, the asshole.
***
Jin hadn’t been wrong about Binna being interested in Jungkook. To be fair, even happily married Daeun had given him a second look.
Even your conservative grandmother had looked past all his visible tattoos and piercings and declared him a good boy.
You’re pretending not to notice as Binna, sitting on the other side of Jungkook at the dinner table, leans into Jungkook’s arm as she reaches for the green beans.
Your Auntie Rina fixes you with a look. 
‘I’m so glad you finally found a man,’ she says. ‘We were so worried you’d be single forever.’
Beside you, Jungkook stiffens. 
‘I wasn’t worried,’ says your mother from opposite Jungkook. ‘Better no man than the wrong man.’
‘It’s true,’ sniffs Auntie Rina. ‘Who was that awful boyfriend of yours who kept asking if you really wanted more helpings? As though there’s anything wrong with your weight…’
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. She isn’t saying anything she hasn’t said before, to be fair.
Jungkook, beside you, nudges his full glass of soju towards you. 
‘Is your car the 2019 model outside?’ he asks your aunt. ‘I know a man who can fix it for you.’
‘Fix it?’ Auntie Rina asks.
‘Yeah. Looks like it has a flat tire,’ Jungkook says, wide-eyed, all innocence. 
Your eyes meet his, and you choke back a laugh. 
As soon as the conversation moves on you turn to Jungkook. ‘Does it really have a flat tire?’ you ask, under your breath.
Jungkook leans so close his lips brush your ear, making your skin prickle. 
‘I’ll make sure it does,’ he promises. 
After dinner, you excuse yourself to get some air and find Jungkook sitting on the steps leading down to the sand, behind the house smoking a cigarette.
You sit next to him. 
‘Thank you,’ you tell him. ‘I hope this isn’t too awful.’
He just smiles, exhales. 
‘I’m enjoying it,’ he says simply.
There’s a breeze blowing in from the sea, ruffling his hair. 
He’s so pretty like this you’d take a picture if you weren’t worried he’d never let you hear the end of it.
Jungkook reaches out, curls a finger in a lock of your hair.
He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t get a chance to.
You lean forward, close your eyes and kiss him.
It’s short and it’s lovely. 
You start to pull away, but he cups the side of your face and kisses you back.
His lips are soft, and he kisses you slow, like he wants to learn the shape of your lips with his own.
He hums, deep in his chest, as his lips meet yours. 
For all the crass sexual comments he’s made to you over the last year, Jeon Jungkook’s kisses are undemanding, sweet.
When he pulls away, you’re both breathless.
His cigarette glows on the step next to him, forgotten.
‘I knew I’d like kissing you,’ he tells you. 
You look down at his hand, somehow entwined with yours.
‘Are you holding my hand?’ you ask.
‘Yeah. You’re a little sweaty but I don’t mind,’ he tells you.
He laughs when you try to pull away. 
‘Do you want to come to my room?’ you ask.
He hesitates. 
‘I’d like to, but you know, I’m really good at fucking, are you going to be able to keep your voice down?’
‘Shut up, I’ve changed my mind,’ you say, getting up.
He tugs you back down. ‘Hey.’
He waits until you’re looking at him.
‘If you really want me there, I’d love to go to your room,’ he tells you.
For once, he sounds completely serious.
‘Yeah. Come.’
***
You’d been a bit worried it might be awkward, but true to form, Jungkook jumps into your bed and pats the covers like he’s the one inviting you into your own bed.
‘It’s my bed,’ you grumble, but he just laughs. 
He kisses you again, his mouth warm over yours. He tastes like the soju he’d been drinking, and he hums when you part your lips to taste more of him.
His tongue licks into your mouth, and when you run your hands over his shoulders he slips his shirt over his head. 
He stops you when your hands go to the hem of your top to do the same.
‘Can I?’ he asks.
You nod, and raise your arms to help.
‘Fuck,’ he murmurs. He’s staring at your breasts. ‘I’m going to need to cum on your tits as my last dying wish.’
‘Jeon Jungkook, shut the fuck up.’
‘Screaming my name already,’ he teases, but he starts kissing down the curve of your neck and the whine that falls from your lips is involuntary.
He hums approvingly as your arms tighten around his shoulders.
He dips his head between your breasts and then nips over the curve of your left breast.
He reaches around your back to unhook your bra, waits until you nod to undo it. 
‘Pretty,’ he says, then he’s sucking a hickey into your skin, laving with his tongue when you whine in protest.
He’s hard. You can feel him even through the layers of clothing as he grinds his hips on yours.
You tuck the tips of your fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tug. He kisses you again, then pushes up onto his knees on your bed.
He unbuttons, slips his jeans down, and holy fuck, it’s not like you haven’t seen him in his boxer briefs before, but it’s a whole different ball game when he’s looking down at you, heat in his eyes and his dick so hard your mouth waters at the sight of it.
No pun intended.
Jungkook pushes your hands away when they go to your own waistband.
 ‘Let me do it,’ he says. 
He tugs your jeans down over your ass and thighs.
‘Fuck,’ he breathes. ‘These silky panties look even better on you.’
You press a hand over his open mouth.
‘Shut up and fuck me,’ you say. 
You trail your hand over the length of him in his briefs, and then he’s moving fast, fumbling with his jeans.
He pulls out a strip of condoms and catches your eye.
You giggle at how ridiculous he looks, and a moment later, he’s laughing too.
‘How many times —‘
You’re cut off by his mouth on yours.
‘Many. I’ll fuck you as many times as you want,’ he tells you, breath hot on your cheek.
He nudges your thigh with his. ‘Spread.’
He fits himself between your legs and kisses you again. 
The blunt head of him nudges you, and you don’t realise you’re holding your breath until he’s in you all the way and you’re dizzy with pleasure.
He buries his head in your neck. 
‘Fuck. You feel so fucking good,’ he groans.
He moves, a slow stroke that makes you arch into him.
You moan his name, and he moves again, rocking his hips against yours, deep, hard.
You close your eyes but realise what a mistake that was when you open them again and see how beautiful Jeon Jungkook looks when he’s fucking you.
He hooks a forearm around your thighs and drags you to the edge of the bed so he can stand and fuck you.
Fuck, how have you never realised how strong he is?
He smirks at you, and you’d want to slap it off his face except he’s doing something with his hips now that’s making the pleasure spiral and you’re two short steps from —-
He lowers his mouth to yours again and then you’re coming, legs wrapped around his hips, his chest flattening yours, his sweat all over you. 
He murmurs what sounds like approval as he fucks you through it.
You gasp his name and he groans, fucking you harder, speeding up and then slowing until he comes, buried deep inside you.
He pulls out, yanks off the condom with a whine and ties it off, dropping it on the floor carelessly. He collapses down next to you, panting. 
For a moment you’re both quiet.
Then he says, ‘Shit. That was way better than jerking off with those panties I stole.’
You slap him on the chest. ‘Shut up, asshole.’
‘Stop flirting with me. I need a minute before we can go again.’
Jungkook grins at you but he’s still got an arm around your hips and his thigh slotted between yours so you can’t be too mad.
***
You wake up to bright sunshine right in your face even though you drew the drapes last night before you went to bed because Jeon Jungkook is halfway in your open window.
You sit up, confused as hell. 
‘What the fuck—‘
You can’t work out if he’s coming or going.
You get your answer then he drops into your room with a thud.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Forgot to slash those tires last night.’
‘You didn’t?!’
‘Keep your voice down,’ he advises. ‘We don’t want her to know it was me.’
You’re speechless.
‘Did you seriously just —‘
‘Don’t finish your question so I don’t have to answer it,’ Jungkook tells you.
He’s getting undressed again, kicking off his shoes, staring hard at your bare chest half covered by the duvet.
He jumps back into bed with you and you greet him with another kiss.
His hand trails over the curve of your breasts.
‘Let’s not talk about it again,’ you say.
‘Yeah,’ he agrees.
‘Do you want to come on my tits?’
Jungkook groans. ‘Fuck, yeah.’
***
You’re back at home in your apartment unpacking when the familiar banging on your door starts.
You yank the door open. ‘You literally just left, Jeon Jungkook,’ you complain, before you realise he’s not alone.
Jeon Mido, Jungkook’s mother and your boss, is standing outside your door and you’ve still got sand in your hair from fucking Jungkook on the beach before you left the beach house. 
Jungkook adjusts the collar of his shirt in a vain attempt to hide the hickey you gave him.
‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’
Jeon Mido smiles graciously at you. 
‘Jungkook tells me he met your parents over the weekend,’ she says.
‘They liked him a lot,’ you tell her, wondering where she’s going with this.
She nods. ‘Good. I thought maybe you’d like to come to dinner with us tomorrow night. My husband would love to meet you.’
You’re so surprised you can’t do anything but accept.
Jeon Mido smiles at you and takes her leave.
You turn to Jungkook. ‘What was that?’
Jungkook shrugs, shaking sand out of his jeans pockets. 
‘She’s always said she wants to meet my girlfriends.’
He’s not looking at you directly, and the tips of his ears are red.
‘What?’
‘I don’t know,’ he says, finally.  ‘I’ve never had a girl I’m dating meet my parents before.’
‘We’re not dating!’ 
He’s looking at you now. ‘Aren’t we?’
The way he’s looking at you gives you pause.
‘We see each other every day. We hang out at each others’ places. You help me with my problems and I help you with yours. I’ve met your family.’
He smiles. ‘And you’re the most fucking amazing girl I’ve ever met.’
You stare at him.
‘Unless,’ he continues, ‘you just want to be fuck buddies. I’m down with that too.’
He looks like he’s about to turn away so you grab his arm and tug him towards you. 
‘Ok, Jeon Jungkook, I’ll date you,’ you say.
He nods. ‘I thought so.’
He leans down so you can kiss the smug smirk off his face.
©hamsterclaw 2024
With thanks to bloviating-vy for introducing me to the phrase 'fuck you rich' and the works of Smashy for the immortal phrase 'Yonsei dipshits'.
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coryndoll · 22 days ago
Text
STAY THE NIGHT ( prologue )
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plot ── you unexpectedly bump into your ex-boyfriend, drew starkey, years after a breakup. you reluctantly help him escape the spotlight. what starts as a tense reunion turns into a secret, spontaneous journey through the city that forces you to confront your shared past. will he stay the night?
content ── “starstruck” inspo, exboyfriend!drew starkey x exgirlfriend!reader, aspiring writer reader x new rising actor drew basically
authors note ── hi guys so .. yes a new series i fear.
main masterlist
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drew stumbles through the narrow back halls of the club, his vision swimming as the alcohol dulls his senses. his shirt sticks to his skin, damp with sweat, and the lingering press of too many hands, too many bodies, feels like it’s still clinging to him.
he’s out of it. too many drinks, too much noise. but somewhere in the fog, a single thought keeps pulling him forward: he needs to leave. he needs air. he needs to go home.
his hand trails along the wall as he walks, searching for balance, his steps uneven. someone—he can’t even remember who—told him to use the back exit. avoid the crowd. the fans are still out front, waiting, calling his name. the idea of facing them feels unbearable, so he keeps moving, rounding corners, ignoring the distant voices of staff and the clinking of glasses from the bar.
finally, he reaches the last door. it’s heavy, metal, the kind that slams shut behind you if you’re not careful. his fingers curl around the handle, and without hesitation, he pushes it open hard, letting the door swing wide.
the impact is immediate. there’s a solid thud, followed by a sharp, startled noise.
he freezes, his heart lurching as he realizes he’s hit someone.
outside, you’ve stumbled back, your hand shooting up to your head where the door clipped you. the sharp edge of the impact throbs, and for a moment, you’re too stunned to do anything but blink.
“what the hell?” you snap, your voice cutting through the quiet of the alley.
drew peeks out through the doorway, his movements unsteady but quick. his eyes land on you, and for a split second, he doesn’t register who you are, just that you’re there, and he’s the one who hit you.
“oh shit,” he mutters, his voice low, hoarse. “i’m so sorry— are you alright?”
he steps toward you, his words tumbling out fast, almost slurred. there’s a frantic edge to him, like he’s not sure how to fix what just happened. his hand hovers near your arm, unsure whether to help you or keep his distance.
you straighten slowly, your fingers still pressed to the side of your head. you glance up at him, your eyes narrowing in irritation, but something about him catches your attention. it’s the way he’s looking at you. he’s panicked, apologetic, but also . . . strangely familiar.
“what the hell is wrong with you?” you snap again, but your voice wavers slightly now, your irritation giving way to confusion.
drew’s gaze flickers over you, and something shifts in his expression. it’s subtle at first, a flicker of recognition that grows stronger with each passing second.
you notice it, too. the way his features seem to change, the way his panic starts to melt into something softer, something heavier. you stare at him, your chest tightening as realization creeps in, slow but undeniable.
“wait,” you breathe, your voice softer now, almost disbelieving.
he doesn’t say anything, but his eyes meet yours, and it’s like the world around you falls away.
“drew,” you whisper, the name slipping from your lips before you can stop it.
his breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling as he stares at you, his eyes wide with something between disbelief and urgency. “y/n,” he says, your name tumbling from his lips like it’s a lifeline, like he’s been holding it in for years.
you can’t move, can’t speak. your legs feel unsteady beneath you, and your hands hover awkwardly near your thighs, like you’re trying to brush off the dust and rocks but can’t quite follow through. your mouth opens, but no sound comes out.
drew looks away first, his head snapping to the right toward the street. his body tenses, his shoulders rising as he scans the sidewalk just beyond the alley. a few people walk by, but none of them glance your way. still, it’s enough to make him anxious.
he exhales sharply, almost like a curse, and his hands move instinctively to your shoulders. his grip is firm but careful, like he’s grounding himself, or maybe grounding you. his fingers tighten slightly, and there’s something in his touch that says more than words could: relief, hesitation, maybe even regret.
you blink up at him, your lips parting like you’re about to say something, but he shakes his head, just barely, and pulls back.
he starts to turn, his body angling toward the street like he’s about to leave. “i—” he begins, but the words don’t come. he takes a step away. a part of you doesn’t want him to go.
your hand shoots out before you even think, grabbing his arm just below the elbow. your grip is firm, your fingers curling around his forearm in a way that stops him in his tracks. he freezes, his breath catching, and then he looks back at you.
his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, everything slows. you search his face, your gaze darting between his eyes, his mouth, the faint lines of tension in his jaw. you’re looking for something, like an explanation, a reason, anything that might make sense of why he’s here, why he’s running, why he’s leaving already.
drew glances over his shoulder again, his jaw tightening as he checks the street. this time, he mutters a curse under his breath, low and frustrated. when he turns back to you, his expression softens, but the urgency is still there, tugging at the edges of his features.
“do you have a car?” he asks, his voice low and hurried.
you blink, caught off guard by the question. your hand is still on his arm, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. the first time you’ve seen him in years and this is what he asks you?
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authors note ── there will be sm drama & a journey & adventure around los angeles & actors & rekindled sparks just u wait omg. if u want to be part of the taglist for this new series, let me know thru replies, anons, dms, reblogs, etc !!
early tags ── @nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @ariiwritess @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @hoelesslyt @lotuslovers
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