#but they are chained to me now I’m not making another one…

[arislary]

Nipping At Your Nose - Han Jisung x f!reader Oneshot

Synopsis: You're spending the holidays at the club with your roommate and things take a turn for the best when you meet the blue-haired bartender who turns out to be more than what you expected.

Or Han Jisung as Jack Frost a.k.a. club owner

Pairing: Jack Frost/Club Owner!Han Jisung x f!reader (1st POV)

Genre: s2l, fluff, smut, mythical characters

Warning: 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex (wrap up!), biting kink, sexual assault (reader is groped and handles her own), weed consumption, alcohol consumption, temperature/ice play (but not what you would think), nipple play, blowjob/handjob, pussy eating, squirting, slight foot fetish (Jisung just likes her socks), I probably most definitely missed some warnings so just let me know!

WC: 16k

A/N: I totally meant for this to have been posted for Christmas, but who am I kidding, it got away from me! EXTREMELY UNEDITED, but Han Jisung's blue hair is wrecking me and I needed to write about him immediately. Again I can't emphasize enough how unedited this is, so I am so sorry, I literally could not stop writing 😭 There's also a small part of me that wants to write all the members as their characters, but that would so much, unless.. IDK you tell me! Also if you want to see more Jack!Jisung, requests are open ☺️

Masterlist

Taglist: @hanji-coffee, @inlovewithstraykids, @xgridx

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

I tapped the bar as I threw the shot back, holding in from making a face as I brought the lime to my lips. I turned to my right grinning as Damian glared at me as he sucked on his lime. I had convinced him to come out as a celebration for finishing the week and celebrating the holiday season. With Christmas being tomorrow, this had been the only club we could find that was open. We had both started new jobs at the beginning of the month and had finally found the time to celebrate our accomplishments. Even as roommates, we barely saw each other with how much work we did. 

On top of the fact that this would be my second year spending Christmas after having been no-contact with my family. A distraction was a must. I went out of my way to make the holiday special for myself and refused to allow the lack of family stop me from treating myself and those I loved. Damian had decided to spend the holiday in the states rather than go home to visit his parents in Australia as he normally did.  

“Literally so many different ways we could be celebrating,” Damian groaned, head falling back as he leaned away from me. A laugh bubbled from my lips as I called out to the bartender to request another round of drinks. 

The original bartender, a cute muscular man, who had been serving us was now occupied with patrons on the otherside of the bar and turned to the man squatting next to him that had just come from their backrooms. I watch the two converse before the man squatting stands up to come over to us and suddenly I’m greeted with wide brown eyes, blue hair, and chubby cheeks. 

I felt myself pause as I took in the good-looking man in front of me. His black long-sleeve shirt was loose around his frame, rolled at the sleeves. He had one gold chain hanging from his neck and various rings and earrings decorating his person. My eyes watched as he rubbed his hands on the rag that had been hanging on his shoulder. His very veiny hands at that. My eyes stuck to the way his long fingers clenched around the towel. I felt my mouth start to salivate the longer I stared. His eyebrow raised as I stayed silent longer, glancing over to Damian who looked ready to burst out laughing. 

Damian shoved an elbow into my side, causing me to flinch and sit upright in my chair. I stared wide-eyed at the bartender, my brain coming to a complete stop. 

“I wanna hold your hand-”

Girl. 

“NO! I mean-“ my hand shot out in front of me, shaking at him, other hand covering my mouth in disbelief. Damian shook in chair, practically falling out of it from how hard he was laughing. The bartender’s smirk stretched into an amused smile, his hands now coming to rest on the bar as he let out a huff of laughter. “Can I please get a rum and coke?” 

I mumble out my order, my eyes refusing to leave the bar-top as Damian continued to laugh, attempting to give his own order. As soon as the grinning bartender walks away to make our drinks, I turn to the ‘Brutus’ sitting next to me, taking my turn to shove an elbow into Damian’s ribs now, hissing in his ear. 

“Thanks for the help, ass!”

He yelped and rubbed at his side, eyes narrowing at me, but the smirk on his face gave him away. 

“It didn’t look like you needed my help with how you practically shoved his pants down and started to suck his d-“

“Alright, I have a ‘Manhattan’ for the gentleman and-“ the “too-cute-for-his-own-good” bartender returned with our drinks laying them down in front of us one by one. “A rum and coke for my new favorite customer.”

He shot me a wink as I sputtered reaching to grab my drink, fingers barely grazing his. I jumped a bit, quickly bringing the drink up to my lips, straw bumping my top one before making it into my mouth. Way to go, ________, way to go. 

The bartender leans forward, hand outstretched towards me. His shoulders and arms seeming so big, making a flash of heat go through me. My eyes dart from his hand back to his face, stopping once, several times, at his lips. 

“You said you wanted to hold my hand right?” 

More like put your fingers in my mouth, but sure. 

The heat rose to my face, blooming from my chest upwards. I watched as his eyes flashed down, to look at my barely covered tits, the red halter lace connected by two rhinestone hearts at the center. I had chosen to pair the top with a white layered mini skirt that had a small bow in the middle. His eyes lazily going up my body from what he was able to see. I could feel the heat in me grow further and I turn to Damian, shooting up from my seat. 

“Let’s go dance!” 

“But we -“ I grabbed his arm, dragging him behind me, shooting one last glance towards the bar to see the hot man still gazing at me, the smile on his face growing, crinkling his eyes. I quickly turn back around, chugging at my drink, trying my hardest to ignore the burning in my cheeks. 

I face Damian once we hit the dance floor, the sea of bodies pushing us close together and forcing us to hold our drinks in front of our chests. Damian began to sway, his head bobbing to the music as he took meager sips. I, on the other hand, had finished my drink, glass empty in one hand as I began to move my hips to the music. I could feel Damian shuffling closer, swaying his hips in time with mine. I felt Damian take the empty glass from my hands, moving to an empty cocktail table to set them aside. 

My gaze trails across the club, moving towards the bar where I am met with those brown orbs once more. I paused in my dance, eyes not wavering as we held contact. A body stepped in front of me, a man with a hopeful grin as he grabbed my hand to pull me closer. My eyes flashed to behind his shoulder where the blue-haired bartender continued to stare, his eyes with a challenging glint in them. I glanced to my right to see Damian had been pulled into by what appeared to be a bachelorette group. I turn back to the guy in front of me, stepping to the side, so that I would see the bar in my peripheral. 

I turned my back to him, pressing up against his front, swaying my hips sensually to the music, hands moving up my body as his moved to my waist to pull me back against him. My head turned to see him still watching. A smirk on his face as he conversed with another patron. I felt my breath stutter as he continued to work, appearing unaffected. 

It wasn’t an outright rejection, but the possibility of him being apathetic almost had me feeling embarrassed. I focus back dancing with the man who clearly seemed interested in me, albeit slightly more handsy than I was okay with it, but it was something I was letting slide, fuck it, it’s Christmas. Several times throughout our dancing, I had to move his hands back down to rest on my hips, him sending me a fake apology every time his fingers grazed the outside of my tit through my shirt or trying to slip his fingers under my skirt. However after I felt another rough grab at my ass, I had enough. I prepared to leave his hold when the music abruptly changed to an all to familiar song, freezing me in my spot as I listened. 

Yeah, uh-huh

Yeah, yeah

My eyes flashed towards the bar, my mouth gaping open as I found him already looking. 

Broke up with my girl last night so I went to the club (So I went to the club)

I snorted, hand flying to my mouth as his eyes flashed with amusement. The man behind me remained oblivious to our interaction, hand coming up to rest on my stomach and leaning down to whisper in my ear. I turn my head, looking away from him to focus again back on the handsy guy behind me. 

“You’re so hot,” I restrain myself from gagging, biting my lip to stop the laugh from escaping and lay a hand on top of his arm to prevent it from getting further. The ick had long settled in and I had already regretted letting him dance on me. 

“Thank you,” I say back, ready to disentangle myself from when he held on even tighter. My eyes widened in surprise, head flashing to the side. 

“You have to realize what you’ve been doing?” He suddenly pressed forward, pressing a very obvious erection against my ass. I gasped and tried to turn in his hold again. 

“I’m done dancing, let go of me.” 

“The way you were dancing on me tells me differently,” one of his hands moved up, grazing underneath my tit over my shirt. Oh hell no!  I gaped and slammed my heeled boot down on his shoe finally causing him to release his hold as he yelled out in pain. He crouched down to hold his foot as I whirled around, hands falling to my hips as I glared down at him. 

“I wasn’t dancing for you, fucking pervert,” he straightened up, immediately crowding into me. I stumbled back a few steps, not having been prepared, eyes still blazing in fury. My back was suddenly pressed against someone’s chest, a very cold chest.

I like the bartender (oh, if you’re lookin’ for me)

I’m at the bar with her (Oh oh oh uh-huh, okay)

His hands hold onto my elbows, thumbs rubbing circles into the inside of them. The smell of woods and chestnuts? surrounded me as the chest behind me vibrated with anger.

“He’s banned, take his ID down and kick him out.”

The man spit on the floor near us, leaving me to flinch back against the chest behind. My eyes flashed upwards to meet the brown orbs that had been watching me all night, softening once they made eye contact with mine. 

“That bitch started it, the fucking slut was asking-“

He hadn’t been able to finish his sentence before a fist flew forward and slammed into his cheek. The security guard, dressed in a black ensemble with the only color coming from a Santa hat on his head, that had thrown the punch, cracked his neck to the side and hauled the man back to his feet. I watched with a scowl on my face, crossing my arms, what a fucking asshole and during Christmas! 

“Thanks, Chan,” the security guard or Chan nodded towards us and sent a wink my way as he led the perv out. My eyes flashed to the owner of the deep voice behind me, taking him in up close again. 

“I’m ______,” I interrupt him the second I noticed his mouth open. He stopped, mouth still open as he tilted his head. He laughed his hand grabbing mine to shake it. 

“That’s a pretty name,” I nodded my head, hand still holding onto his hand, his very veiny hand. He pulled me closer by my hand, kissing my knuckles. “I’m Jisung, now come on, Sweetness.”

My hand engulfed by his, pulls me towards the backrooms, up a small staircase. My eyes stay fixated on the man leading me. His blue hair shining under the lights of the club and added festive lights. We reached a dark hallway, him leading me further towards the last room. Each door we passed contained a symbol on it, I was able to make out a top hat, an Easter egg, and a clock before we stopped in front of a door with a silver snowflake. 

As Jisung unlocks the door, I realize I should feel scared or at least cautious by the fact that a stranger was leading me away, but as he looked back towards me, eyes still soft, all other thoughts left, only he remained. Scurrying a few steps to be in stride with him, bringing his hand up to my lips to press a kiss. His lips stretching into a smile as he opens a door to an office space completely decked out in Christmas decorations. 

I gasped and walk into the room, eyes trying to take it all in. The office didn’t look like a typical office, rather more of a game room, with a couch and tv on one side and more of a library space on the other. A tree stood in the middle, multi-colored lights and what looked like personal ornaments. 

“Jisung, this is beautiful,” the door shuts behind him as he walks toward to the small bar behind the couch. He smiles watching me, hands laying on the counter top. I turn towards him, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. He watched me with dark eyes, the desire evident in them. I suddenly felt naked, yet not in a way that made me want to hide away. 

My eyes flashed towards the coffee table and I gasped, my feet immediately leading me towards it. 

“You were holding out on me!” I pulled off my boots, the grinch ankle socks making themselves known. I heard a strangled sound me behind me as I sank down onto the plush couch. My head whipped around to see Jisung’s head thrown back, eyes closed and jaw clenched. I realized how rude that could have been, I knowing first hand how specific I was with sharing my weed. I turned to face him, sitting on my knees, hands coming to rest on the back of the couch. 

“I’m sorry, I should have asked first or let you offer, that was rude of me.”

His eyes opened, head moving to look at me. He took in my position and groaned once again, leaning now on his forearms, head falling to touch the counter. 

“Sweetness,” I shivered at the nickname and shuffled closer to him. I reached out, hand hesitant in mid-air before coming to rest on the top his hair, fingers running through the blue strands. The moan that left him came from deep within his chest as I lightly dragged my nails through the locks. 

He lifted his head up slowly, my hand slowly falling to rest on the side of his neck. His eyes met mine, swiftly standing up and striding to round the couch to meet me. He sits next to me, hands moving to the rolling tray, papers, and grinder that lay there. He took in a deep breath, as his hands began to empty the grinder to roll a blunt. 

I moved in my seat, tucking my legs to the side as I leaned my hands on my knees.

“Do I make you nervous, Jisung?” 

His eyes glanced towards me before taking another look at how much closer I got. His eyes went wide, dropping the blunt and some of the weed he had already began to sprinkle on top back on the tray. 

“N-no,” I hummed and sat back, eyes glancing away down at his hands. 

“Oh-“ he didn’t turn back to begin rolling yet, eyes remaining on me. “You make me nervous.”

I look towards him, meeting his eyes to find the surprise there. I couldn’t help the smirk that came onto my face as I pushed against his shoulder with my hand. “Okay, not too much now, it was obvious.”

He smiled wide at me, head dropping forward as he chuckled. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, a deep blush on his face. 

“You- uh- definitely make me nervous, but more about what you could do to me,” he turned back to the tray, his hands resuming their task to finish rolling the blunt. My legs move to place my feet back on the floor. A hand falls on my left foot before it could hit the floor and maneuvered my legs to go over his thigh, my legs falling in between his. My feet rubbing at his calves. 

“Are you gonna ask me what I want for Christmas now, Santa?” I whisper into his ear. The desire growing further inside of me.

His eyes flicker over to me as he brings the blunt to his lips, letting tongue come out to lick at the leaf. My eyes follow the movement of his tongue as his fingers continued to roll it back up. He reached out the hand holding the blunt towards me, eyes expectant. 

“Depends, have you been naughty or nice?”

I leaned forward, my tongue coming out to run right where his had. I maintained eye contact with him, eyes drooling with want for each other. He pulled it back as my legs squeezed the thigh under me. He hissed and tapped a hand against my thigh, smirking as I giggled and fell into his side. 

“Yea, definitely naughty, Sweetness,” his fingers reached down to tickle at my foot. “Might have to give you a new nickname.”

He finished closing the blunt reaching over to grab the lighter. As he lit it, his eyes felt shut and his neck went back as he re-inhaled the smoke through his nose. I gulped watching his throat bob, his fingers holding the blunt nonchalantly. He reopened his eyes and made contact with me as he exhaled the smoke. 

He held the blunt out to me and I stared at him for a second, the temptation inside of me growing. I wrapped my lips around the blunt, taking a long drag. My lips pressing against the pads of fingers. I closed my eyes willing myself to ignore the slick beginning to pool in my underwear. Anxious he’ll begin to feel it through his slacks. I shifted in my seat, pulling away from the blunt as I exhaled the smoke through my nose. 

I opened my eyes to find his boring into mine. I pursed my lips, trying to hold back my pleased smile. I leaned back my seat, pushing the blunt back towards his lips. 

“So you’re not just the bartender then?”

His tongue came out to lick his lips as he took a hit himself, holding it towards me again. He smirked at my question and shrugged his shoulders. 

“You could say that,” I pouted and sniffed, to hold the smoke in for a bit longer. I pursed my lips to the side to exhale and looked off to the side. 

“Then would you say you’re the owner?” 

“That’s right, Sweetness, although it’s not just me,” he took a hit, leaning back against the couch, bringing the ashtray with him and handing it to me. I scooted closer to him, legs curling up more in his lap as he continued to hold the blunt up for us to take hits off of. 

The further down the blunt became the closer the two of us sat, the more the conversation deepened. It was odd to find myself sharing of more about myself, the fears of the new job, what it could mean for me in the future. He shared of his friend group, the group as I’ve come to learn that are all part owners of the club or have a role to serve. My head now leaning on his shoulder, his free hand resting on my thigh, fingers reaching in the inside of my thighs. 

“What made you stay open for Christmas? Did the holly jolly man inspire you?”

He snorted and shrugged his shoulders as he laid the roach in the ashtray, grabbing it from my hands to put it back on the table. He settled back down, his hand coming back to rest on my thigh. His eyes have a glint to them that I can’t quite put my finger on. 

“Please, as if he could make any of the club decisions, he’s too busy with his list all the time,” Jisung grumbled, a pout making it’s way on his lips. 

“You’re right, how could I compare you to that old man?” Jisung nodded as I placed a hand on his cheek, turning his face down to look at me. “Besides, if I’m being completely honest, I’ve always been more into Jack Frost anyways.”

Jisung stills underneath me, the hand he had on my thigh, clenching. My own hand stills on cheek, nervous that I may have said something wrong. 

“I’m actually Jack Frost,” his hand squeezes my thigh and an unreadable emotion enters his eyes as he stares at me. Interesting. A beat passes before he clears his throat. “Hence the hair,” he pointed a finger up towards the blue locks. I reached up to tug one of the strands, biting my lip. 

“I’ve always had a biting kink,” deciding to play along with his joke. 

Jisung and I blinked at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter. My face turned, nose pressing into his chest as we laughed against the other. Jisung’s laugh filled my ears and it became a sound I wanted to hear again and again. I leaned back from him, finally calming down form the laughing fit. He met my eyes and brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear, fingers gliding down the side of my neck. 

“We’ll have to test that theory some other time then,” he hummed more to himself than to me. His eyes staring hard at the juncture between my neck and shoulder, thumb pressing in. I leaned back into him, his hand falling to rest around my shoulders as I laid my head on his. 

“I don’t know honestly,” Jisung sighed as he started to answer my initial question. “I just realized that some people don’t always have it to spend it with and that… fucking sucks. So why not just be open?” he trailed off, head dipping back to lay on the couch. I shifted my head up to look at him, my breath catching at his response. “Besides, I’m with my best friends anyways, that’s all matters to me.”

My eyes ran down his face, taking in the blue of his hair against his honey skin. The cupid’s bow of his lips with the slight 5 o’clock shadow framing them. I turned my gaze down to the hand that rested on my thigh, not noticing as he turned to face me. 

“And to think if I hadn’t been open for such a holiday, I wouldn’t have met you, Sweetness,” my eyes move up his body to meet his again, taking in the way the smirk plays at his lips, but his eyes. His eyes tell me so much more. I couldn’t help, but become overwhelmed with the urge to hold this man’s hand and never let it go. Already knowing the warmth it would provide me, creating a longing inside, that I never knew existed. 

I looked away from him, towards the clock he had above the television flashing 12:25. 

I gasped sitting up, whirling around to face Jisung. 

“Fuck, it’s Christmas already! Damian! Fuck me, man, I’m the worst!” 

I scrambled up from where I practically sat on his lap, trying to tug on my boots. Jisung was quick to stand with me, hands falling on my hips as I struggled to get my shoes on. 

“Wait, Sweetness,” Jisung guided me to sit back down, kneeling before me as his hands tugged my boots from my hands. I looked at him, mouth opening ready to argue with him. “Would you want to invite him back here?”

I paused in my movements, staring up at him in surprise. 

���I-“ I looked all over his face, trying to something to tell me what he was thinking. I felt slightly dumbfounded that he was ready to invite my friend back into the intimate environment we had created. The pleading in his eyes became apparent as his hands moved to my feet, pressing into the soles. “Jisung.”

I mumbled his name, hands coming to run up his muscular arms up to his shoulders. He moved closer, his noses brushing against mine. 

“You just stay in here and I can go get him,” his hands moved up from my feet to my calves, fingers still digging in to massage the muscles. I felt myself become like putty in his hands, melting further into his touch. “You can roll another joint if you want and I know some of the guys would be willing to come join, we’ll celebrate all together, hmm?” 

I was nodding my head before he finished, squeezing his shoulders with each word that passed through his lips. Something about the way he phrased it, it seemed like he was begging me to stay, not wanting this moment between us to end. 

“Will you come back?”

He snorted, his head dipping forward, his hair brushing the skin left exposed by my shirt. I heaved in a breath as he raised his head again, a wide smile present. 

“Sweetness, I’d be a fool to leave my favorite customer alone-“ I blushed as his hand moved up to grab a hold of mine. “And, who’s gonna hold your hand if I’m not here?”

“Jisung!” I pushed him off, laughing and trying to tug my hand out of his hold. “You’re so-“

“So?” He eggs me on, crowding up in my face, eyes comically wide. “Funny? Amazing? Pretty?”

“Annoying,” I state flatly, finger coming up to flick his forehead. Jisung yelps, hand coming up to rub at the spot. He playfully glowers at me, fingers flying forward to dig into my sides. 

“Yah! You’re not being very nice! And on Christmas!” He mocked gaped at me as I flew into a fit of laughter, tears forming at my eyes. “I might have to tell Santa, you don’t even realize the sway I have, precious!”

“Ji-“ I shrieked further, Jisung moving to a standing position over me, continuing his assault at my waist. His smile wide as he took me in underneath him. “Spare me!”

He finally released me, hands falling on either side of the couch as leaned over me. I gasped for air, smiling wildly up at him, trying to calm the racing of my heart. He pressed his lips quickly against my forehead before standing straight and walking towards the door. 

“I’ll be back, Sweetness, stay put,” he pointed a finger at me and I mock saluted him, winking. 

“You got it, Mr. Frost!” He paused by the door, eyes flashing to me with an intensity that had me freezing. I bit my lip, clenching my thighs as a pit of desire blooms from my core, shivering as it felt like the room’s temperature dropped. 

“Behave.” 

The door closed behind him and I released a breath, falling back against the couch. 

“What the fuck?” I sat back up, eyes trailing along the room, finding what looked like another door. I turned back towards the coffee table when I suddenly remembered my phone. I shrieked, hands flying to my tits to grab at them and then down to my stomach, hips and butt. 

“Ah, fuck me, man!” I stomped my foot, slapping myself on my forehead. “Way to be distracted by some dick, _____, ugh you bitch,” I slip my boots back on, trudging to the door. Just as my hand reached for the handle, it swung open to present Damian. 

“Yah!” I jumped back as he approached, expression angry. My eyes widen and I put my hands up in surrender.

“Listen to me! Listen to me! Let me tell you something first!” I am barely able to register the three other men walking into the room as Damian grabbed my arm and yanked me towards him, pulling me in for a hug, but it’s more of a chokehold.

“I was so worried! One second you’re there and the next you’re gone, and suddenly your Bartender is asking me to come with to a backroom! You can’t leave me alone! And on my first Christmas!”

“It’s not your first Christmas-“

“My first AmericanChristmas, you fucking brat! God, I should have you evicted!”

I snort as he fake cries and push against his chest, eyes flashing to the three amused men that have moved to different areas of the room. Jisung leaning by the door still, smile present watching us. 

“It’s not my fault you were trying to get into an engaged woman’s pants!” After successfully pulling away from him, I pushed him towards the the couch to sit with the other man. I could feel Jisung’s body as he moved to follow us. His hand ghosting my lower back, leaving me feeling tingles all throughout my body, goosebumps raising all over my body. The heat from before rearing its head. Damian fell into the last open seat. Jisung pulled out floor cushions, settling down on one, with his back against the the chaise of the couch. 

He pulled my hand down, moving me to settle in between his legs as he spread them. One leg bent, foot flat on the floor, the other outstretched, making the muscle of his thighs prominent. He reached under the coffee table, pulling a folded up throw to place it over my lap, being more mindful of the fact that I was in a skirt than I was. His hand finally coming to rest on my covered thighs, the other wrapping around my waist to keep me secured to him. I nestled further into the space as Jisung began to introduce his friends to me and vice versa. 

Minho, the short, black-haired stoic-looking friend began rolling another joint, his eyes flashing to mine with a wink as Jisung said his name, causing me to grin back at him. There was something about the way he moved, slowly almost, eyes sleepy. The bleached buzz-cut friend, or Hyunjin, smirked at Jisung, his eyebrow raising in turn. He seemed to glow, the air around him somehow reminding me early spring. 

“You must be who pulled our Jisungie away from us.”

‘Jisungie’ stuttered behind me, his hands clenching in their hold on me. 

“Aww, I didn’t realize Jisungie already mentioned me!”

Minho snorted, licking the last of the blunt as he met my gaze. 

“He messed up three drinks too busy watching you.”

I turned my head to look at Jisung, eyes sparkling with laughter, mouth twitching into a smile. 

“Did you really?”

He furrowed his brows, glare stinging as he stared Minho down. 

“Barely,” he grumbled as I giggled, hand coming up to cover my mouth, Damian and Hyunjin snorting in laughter. Minho smirked, lighting the blunt and taking a hit before passing it to Hyunjin. 

“If it’s any consolation, I got groped while trying to get his attention, so I think we both learned our lesson,” I watched as all the men in room grew tense, their brows furrowing. Jisung tightened his grip on me, the deep breaths he took moved me on his chest. 

“I promise, _______, that shit won’t ever happen again in our club,” Hyunjin shook his head as he continued the blunt rotation to Damian. “I’m sorry it even happened in the first place, but don’t worry he’s banned.” 

Minho hummed, cracking his fist as he stood up to grab a drink from the bar. Even from the short interaction with Minho, the air around him was intimidating, heavy, almost like a blanket. 

“I shouldn’t have left you for even a second, babes!” 

Damian leaned down, passing it to me now. I shook my head not seeing how Damian could blame, taking a hit, breathing it back up my nose. I was about to turn my head to the side, fingers lightly gripped my chin, turning my head towards Jisung, lips opening in surprise and releasing smoke in his awaiting parted ones. My eyes were wide as I stared at his hooded ones, the furrow in his brows still present showing me how much the situation had frustrated him.

He leaned back, eyes still on me as he exhaled from his nose. I played with his chain, shaking my head firmly again. 

“Nah, it’s no ones, but that perverts fault. I allowed him to dance with me and he crossed the line, he should’ve just felt lucky to have danced with me!” 

“Exactly!” Minho slammed the shot glass down after his proclamation, sucking in air through his teeth. “Fucking bitch ass probably an insecure cunt who’s dick’s so-“

“Alright dude,” Hyunjin shakes his head as he grabs the blunt from me. Minho rounds the couch five glasses filled this time that he lays on the table. 

“No let him finish! Asshole deserves it!” I lean forward, hand raised for a high-five which Minho gladly gives. I then reach for a glass, slap the shot on the table and throw it back, lips scrunching up at the taste. Jisung’s thumb wipes the excess that dribbled down my chin and sucks his finger.

“Okay, you two can relax,” Minho groans, stealing the blunt from Damian before he could pass it to me. “Nah, as punishment, we’re skipping you two.”

“Hey!” I pouted and turned to Jisung in shock, crossing my arms. “Keep your hands to yourself!”

Jisung gaped at me as I stood up from the between his legs, bringing the blanket with me to go on the other side of the coffee table. It was Jisung’s turn to pout, sending another seething look towards Minho as he passed the blunt to me now. For a moment, I could have sworn it looked like his eyes had changed colors, but I ignored it, chalking it up to the decorative lights of the room. 

I stuck my tongue out at him and took a long drag. 

“Sweetness, weren’t you just begging to hold my hand?” I began to cough, smoke creating a cloud around me as I covered my face with my arm. I could hear the cackle of Damian and threw up a middle finger. A body settled near me, a large hand patted me on the back as Hyunjin placed a cup of water down in front of me. 

I looked up to see Jisung, who sends me a cheeky wink, bringing the glass to my lips. He continues to rub my back as I chug the water. Hyunjin grabs the remote, turning the television on to put a Christmas movie on. 

“Jack Frost, the 1979 version! Do that one, that one’s my favorite!” I point when he just passes the old cartoon movie. I can see from peripheral Minho and Hyunjin turn to make a face at Jisung who had moved towards the bar to pour a drink. He shook his head slightly, finger tapping his lip. Hyunjin plays it, grabbing the other blankets from under the coffee table to pass them around. 

“Is the club still open?” Damian asked, as he wrapped himself up in his blanket. 

Minho nodded his head, taking another shot glass. 

“We stay open all day on Christmas, but that’s also because we have a select group that comes and spends today with us.”

“A select group?” I look over at him as Jisung comes back around, grabbing the floor cushion to slide back towards me. He sits down, dragging me to sit on his lap, blanket covering our lower halves. I turn to look at Jisung in shock who merely shrugs and turns his attention to the movie. 

“Basically it’s like a private member only club that we happen to host here every Christmas.”

“How do you become a member?” Damian crossed in his legs, sitting up intrigued now. 

“It’s kind of based on their job?” 

“What kind of job? I have a job!” I sit up in Jisung’s lap, hands squeezing at the arm wrapped around me. 

“Not just any job, Sweetness,” Jisung chuckled behind me and rubbed a hand up and down my back. “Think maybe more life long jobs, passed down in a very specific way.”

“So nepotism?” 

Minho busted out laughing as Hyunjin snorted. Jisung shook from laughter underneath me. Damian and I shared a confused look, both of our heads tilting to the side. I look at Jisung once again, eyebrow raising as he sobered up, hands tightening their grip on me as he bit his lip. 

“Yea, Sweetness, something like that.”

I hummed, understanding that it was possibly a touchy subject and decided to drop it. Fanning the blanket to cover us more, I turned my head sideways to focus back on the movie. I felt Jisung’s cold nose rub lightly by my temple before shifting his attention to the TV as well. 

It was about half an hour or more into the movie and all of us, excluding Damian who had fallen asleep, groaned when Sir Rightfellow came on. 

“Ugh, I can’t believe she picked this douche over Jack!” I grumbled, arms crossing as Jisung moved us forward to pass Minho the joint that Hyunjin had rolled a few minutes prior. Minho’s eyes flash to behind me, a smirk present once again on his face.

“You don’t say?” I look behind me to catch Jisung shaking his head before he stops himself, smiling at me. “Are you implying you would have been Jack Frost’s bride?” I turn back to Minho with a ‘duh’ look on my face. 

“Jack Frost is by far better, although, I wouldn’t want him to have to turn human. I’d be chill just being his as he is.” 

I felt Jisung stiffen under me but paid no mind as I sat up further. 

“Also, like I wish Jack would’ve just said something, you know? Like ‘hey, I saved your life’ or I don’t know just say your ‘Old Man Winter’!”

“I am not Old Man Winter!” Jisung shot back and I whipped around to face, mouth open. Minho hissed as Hyunjin chortled. I shook my head surprised by the scowl on his face. 

“I- I know you’re not…” When the scowl on his face didn’t lessen, the pout prominent, I felt an overwhelming need to comfort him. “I’m sorry, Jisung, Jack Frost isn’t Old Man Winter?”

I didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but I also couldn’t help but feel confused as to why he seemed so offended. His eyes widened once he realized his outburst and he turned his head to cough. 

“I- I mean they’re two different people you know? Old Man Winter is the god of Winter, I’m- Jack Frost is winter you know? They’re completely different…” 

“Smooth,” Minho mutters, causing Hyunjin to laugh even harder.

I nodded my head, as he finished, hands rubbing his chest to calm him. 

“You’re right, Ji, they’re totally different, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Jisung stared at me for a second before moving to stand to his feet, grabbing my hands to bring me with him. 

“Come with me?” I nodded as he began to lead me towards the door I had seen earlier. He lifted a two-finger salute towards the boys as I turned to wave at them. 

“Merry Christmas!” They smiled at me and called back to me, returning to the still-lit joint. Jisung pulled me through the door, closing it behind me. 

“Wow!” I take in the silvery Christmas decorations, stepping further into the dark, cold bedroom, lit by the white lights. I walked towards the frosted windows, gasping at how real the frost looked like. I look at the bedroom, the fluffy dark blue sheets looking incredibly inviting. My eyes trailed to the bookshelf, littered with different books, games, and photographs. 

One photo caught my eye in particular, it was Jisung, Minho, Hyunjin, that security guard Chan, and a few others that I didn’t know. What really caught my attention was how they were all dressed. Chan was dressed as Santa Claus, Minho in robes and a floppy hat with what looked like a cotton ball. Hyunjin had on a crisp white suit, in his hand a woven basket. I trailed my eyes over the picture, stopping at the darkly dressed Jisung. He looked normal if the frosty blue color of his eyes didn’t give him away. 

I hear his footsteps as he approaches me slowly. I turn to face him, the question clear on my face. 

“Is- hmm how should I ask this?” Jisung moved to sit on the bed, hands moving behind him as he leaned back. I could tell he was trying to appear indifferent, but his shoulders seemed tense, and his mouth tight. “Are you guys like.. a bunch of role-players or something?”

Jisung fell back into the bed laughing heartily, I smacked my teeth at him and moved to climb onto his lap, chuckling at the cute expression on his face, happy to see him relaxing. His eyes were closed, mouth open wide. His laugh gave me rich man vibes, leaving me to shiver in its wake. Fuck, he was too attractive. He sat back up, his blue hair shining under the silvery white Christmas lights. 

His hands came up to grip my thighs, my skirt rucked up dangerously now between. My hands came to rest on his arms. 

“What? I feel like it was a valid question!” Jisung snorted, his eyes full of amusement. 

“It was, it was,” he pats my butt, sliding his hand up my back slowly. “No, we aren’t role-players.” 

“Then they’re the nepo babies you mentioned, right?” He laughed again, nodding his head as I smirked triumphantly. “But why are you in it? You’re a nepotism baby too? And why are you all dressed like that?”

“Relax, Sweetness, I’m gonna answer your questions-“ I stood from his lap suddenly, going back to the picture and picking it up to bring it closer to my face. It was like the thought was not yet done forming, but my mind was going wild. There is just something about them, something in the look and the photo itself looked old almost. My brain racks through our conversations throughout the night. 

There’s… no way…

I slowly bring the picture down, eyes flashing to him and then back to the photo. He hadn’t moved from his seat, yet his eyes changed from the playfulness from before to anxiety? Fear? Hope? I couldn’t tell with the bubbling confusion and denial already making itself known inside of me. 

“You-“ I stop myself looking back at the picture, there’s just no way. I place the picture back down and look at Jisung, schooling my face. “Are you fucking with me or something? Like is this something that you do?”

“Wait, huh?” 

“The whole ‘Jack Frost’ thing, I mean having us watch the movie-“

“Okay well hold on, you wanted to watch-“

“And then your reaction to being called ‘Old Man Winter’,” Jisung’s face immediately turned cloudy, his mouth dropping open to disagree. I held up a finger to his lips, my eyes blazing. 

“I mean look at your room, Jisung, it’s not subtle!” My arms are outstretched to my side at this point, one hand still holding the photograph. “Is this why you guys stay open? Are you like some Christmas sex club? Members can pick their favorite character or something”

Jisung paused, the finger he had in the air to interrupt, bent at the knuckles. The lips twitched up, his eyes filling with laughter. 

“I-“

“And what makes you think I would choose Jack Frost! What if I was more into Cupid, hmm?”

Jisung scoffed, arms crossing over his chest, looking off to the side with a pout on his lips. 

“Changbin wouldn’t even know how to handle you,” I look back at him, eyebrows furrowed. I realized He.. actually thinks he’s Jack Frost. I glance at the picture again and back towards him. 

I can’t possibly believe this.

Can I?

“You-“ I cleared my throat, his head turning towards me, but his eyes remained on the floor, pout still present. “You’re really Jack Frost.”

Jisung’s eyes met mine now, the seriousness on his face taking me by surprise. 

“I am.”

The finality of his voice struck me to the cord. Jisung stood up from his seat moving towards the window, he glanced over at me before closing his eyes and blowing on the glass panes. I watch in amazement as frost leaves his pursed lips, the ice growing further on the panes. The room’s temperature drops further as more ice leaves his mouth. He stops, eyes opening revealing the icy blue color from the photo. 

I gape in shock, slowly sinking to the floor, eyes flashing between him and the window. 

“Y-you.. you’re Jack Frost,” one hand covers my mouth, the other falling flat on the floor next to the picture that continued to glare up at me. “Fuck, you’re really.. you..”

A hand slowly comes in my vision, moving my hand away from my mouth before tilting my face upwards with a finger under my chin. The icy blue in his eyes remained as he hesitantly crept closer. Oddly enough, his touch continued to feel warm to me even in the freezing room. Goosebumps rose on my body as our eyes met.

“I’m Jack Frost.”

“You’re Jack Frost.”

We both continued to stare at each other as our words sank in. I should run, I should leave and never look back. I was just drunk, high, maybe he drugged me! I mentally shook my head at that, knowing that this man had seemed so sincere in the interactions we had. My hand glides up his that’s still holding my chin, clenching the black fabric of his sleeve and pulling him down as I pushed up. 

Our lips met in a bruising force, teeth almost clanking together at how desperately we gripped at each other. The heat in my core multiplied as Jisung’s hands went to both of my cheeks, fingers spreading to reach into my hair as we pushed closer. My arms squeezed his arms, hands moving to wrap around his neck. His teeth nipped and sucked at my lips, hands moving my head the way he wanted. 

He pulled away suddenly, lifting me to my feet and walking us back towards the bed. I raised on to my tip toes, thankful I had taken my shoes off again once we started the movie. I move my hand to the back of his neck, bringing his head down to take a nip at his nose. He groaned, setting me on top of lap, bringing our cores flushed against each other. 

I could feel the tent beginning to form on his pants, growing more as we continued to devour each other. His lips trailed down my neck, teeth biting at the flesh. I moan unabashedly, moving my hips over his to feel any type of friction. By now, my skirt was over my hips, underwear on full display. His hands kneading at the skin of my ass, shaking the extra flesh in his fingers. 

“Fuck me, Sweetness,” Jisung continued to bite at me, going farther down to the tops of breasts, tongue coming out to lick the swell of my left one. Without warning, he bite down roughly, causing me to shriek and grind harder on his growing length, mouth salivating. 

“Yes, Ji!” He hums as he takes another bite from the top of my right tit, tongue soothing the skin in his mouth. I groan, one hand fisting at the back of his shirt, the other gripping his hair, pushing his head closer to my breasts. Jisung pulled away, smirking at the bite marks he had left on me, before pursing his lips and blowing the softest cold air on them. 

I gasped, chest heaving, hips moving erratically over his. One of his hands moved from my ass to trail up the front of my body, fingers grazing the fresh marks. I whimpered as they pressed into the bruised skin, eyes flashing up to meet his. 

Words couldn’t be used to describe the look we exchanged. It was overwhelming and all too consuming. Our breaths mingled in the space between us, noses brushing against each other. I came to a startling reality that I would gladly give him anything, but more importantly, I wanted him. I wanted to see this man again after tonight, and the night after. I wanted to be a part of him. 

“I want you, Jack Frost.”

It was Jisung’s turn to whimper, his eyes looking so absolutely soft. He leaned towards me, lips meeting mine in a slow dance. Our tongues dragged against the other, licking into each others mouths lazily. Jisung moved us to side to lay me under him on the bed. Him coming to rest flush against me, legs caging his waist. His hard length rutted against my core, both us hissing from the contact. 

“I want you, Sweetness,” his eyes holding a question as his fingers fiddled with the ends of my top. I nodded my head, fingers moving to pull the top over my head before he even had the opportunity. Hands not having dropped yet, are suddenly pinned above my head, top tangled in my hands. Jisung wraps his lips around one of my erect nipples, teeth scraping and sucking harshly. 

He switched to the other side, giving it the same abuse until he was satisfied. Lifting his head to gaze at the red, swollen buds, the bites of his teeth indented in the skin. He blew his soft icy air at them, a breathy sigh escaping me from the contrast of temperatures happening on my body. 

The slickness of the my underwear had to be evident as Jisung continued to press and grind his hips into me. His fingers and lips moved down my body, teeth needing to bite and leave a mark as me made his way down my stomach to my bunched up skirt. Jisung begins to tug my skirt down my legs, lifting off the bed so that was standing before me. He held my socked feet, lifting them up to his face to place a kiss on the clothed toes. 

I tried jerking them back, laughing at the tickle of cool air on them, but he held on tighter. 

“Sweetness, the way you were dressed today took my breath away and I already wanted you, but when I saw these socks, I knew I was going to have you. I think I’m wrapped around your finger, is that possible?”

I wiggled my toes at him, arching one of my feet to touch at his chest and push at him. 

“Yes… I’m wrapped around yours,” Jisung placed a final kiss to the arch of my foot, sliding fingers under the fabric to pull it off. He did the same with the other foot, before holding them together to kiss each toes, teeth taking small nips at them. I pouted at the black shirt still on him, dying to have a feel of his skin. 

I trail a foot down, going under his shirt to touch the hard planes of his stomach. He hisses as my toes make contact with his skin before he is shucking his shirt of his body. The honey skin fills my vision, my mouth and cunt watering at the sight. His chest heaved as he stared down at me, eyes still icy blue but dark with desire. 

His hands go to the button of his slacks, pushing them down until he’s left in dark blue boxers. Jisung spreads my legs, pushing them up body as he blows cool air on my covered cunt, the fabric doing nothing to hide the constant flow of arousal dripping out of me. He leaned the last inch forward, biting at my folds, tongue laving the clothed folds. 

I whine, hands moving down to my tits, pulling roughly at my bitten nipples. Jisung continued to suck and bite at my slit, hands moving to tug me closer, as if he’s trying to suffocate himself. I almost wail when his fingers begin to slide the wet fabric down all while he blew soft cool air. 

He dives back in, tongue trailing up from my puckered hole to my cunt, trying to catch as much of my essence as he could. He leans back and spits at my clit, drawing a whine from me at the filthy display. 

“Sweetness was the perfect name, you taste so good, best fucking pussy,” he slurred against me, eyes hooded as he looked at me. I was up, leaning back on my elbows to watch him, bottom lip caught between my teeth. I slide my hand down, fingers touching at my clit as he continues to suck on me, his tongue grazing the tips of my nails. “So fucking wet, precious, you’re dripping.”

“Only for you, Mr. Frost,” he brings my fingers into his mouth, biting down on them. The icy blue intensified and the room grew even colder as he fingers teased at my entrance, his other hand gripping tightly at the inside of my thigh. 

“Ask me for it, ________.”

The roughness of his voice had my pussy clenching, my hole desperate for him to fill it. I moved my hips, a pout painting itself on my face. 

“Please Jisung-“  the words barely left before his finger is inside, curling and beginning a steady rhythm. The squelching noise was obscene as I threw my head back, toes curling from the pleasure. “Yes, baby, don’t stop, more, Ji, more!”

A second finger was soon add, the pumping in side of me increased, leaving me panting and desperate. My hips move on their own accord, meeting his pumping fingers thrust for thrust. 

“More, Sweetness? You can take can’t you? Such a good girl, shitting on Sir Rightfellow huh?” I whimper, hole clenching tightly around his fingers causing him to release a hiss as he went harder. “Fuck Sweets, you were just begging for me, huh? Needed some ice in you?”

Each question is asked with a forceful thrust of his fingers, leaving me weak and seeing snowflakes in my vision. 

“Oh- yes, Sungie, harder,” I gasped as it felt like the temperature of his fingers changed, the coldness against my heated walls almost bringing me to the edge. My head went to the side, the pleasure of it all becoming too much and for a moment my eyes grazed the picture that lay on the floor forgotten. A thought suddenly passing through me as Jisung continued his assault, his mouth having joined his fingers. His tongue slurping messily, teeth continuing to nip any bit of skin he could. 

“W-wait, Ji-“ Jisung immediately pulled his head away, fingers halting as his eyes flashed to mine, concern evident. 

“What’s wrong?”

“If Chan was here tonight, how did he deliver presents?”

Jisung huffed, his head falling back. “There’s no way you’re fucking asking me about that now?” Jisung continued to pump his fingers lazily, mouth reattaching itself to my slick folds. I gasped, his tongue ice cold as he lapped at me. 

“But I’m serious! Australia is like hours- wait… OH!” A strong suck and teeth biting my clit has me pausing, the air from lungs taken all at once. “Timezones duh! But still, ah- fuck- it doesn’t make sense!”

I shrieked as Jisung bit roughly at my inner thigh, fingers curling and beginning a punishing speed inside of me. 

“Sweets, please, stop talking about him.”

“I’m s-sorry, Ji, I have- OH FUCK ME!” I yelp, my thighs clamping around his head as he suddenly shoved his tongue inside my aching hole. My vision goes black as I yelled out his name. Jisung continues his never-ending assault, lapping furiously at me to make sure he didn’t miss a drop. He was whining, hands shoving me closer to him, gripping tightly his knuckles turned white. 

My body continued to shake as Jisung kissed up my body, admiring the littered teeth marks he left on me body. My eyes opened, meeting his, shock running through me at his wet face. My mouth dropped open, hand coming up to cover my mouth. 

“Did I..?”

Jisung swipes a hand over his face, bringing his wet fingers to his mouth to suck on them. His other hand trails down his own body, jerking his covered dick. His gaze is dark as he slips his hand inside, pumping his length as he looked at me. 

“Yes, you did, sweets, squirted all over me, fucking hot as fuck,” Jisung whines, climbing over me after he shoved his boxers down his legs, yanking his own socks off. “I need to have you now, baby, please?” 

Jisung came to hover over me, his hands coming to rest on either sides of my body, blue hair tickling my forehead as he leaned down to ghost his lips over mine. 

I sucked in a breath, hands running up his chest, scratching at his skin, desperate to leave me own mark. I bite his bottom lip, tugging at it roughly, sucking it into my mouth. His hard erection bumped against my folds, leaving us to whine and pant into each others mouths. 

“Please fuck me, Mr. Frost.”

Jisung shivers above, kissing me softly before lifting off of me to reach inside of the nightstand. I lock my ankles around his waist, arms circling around his neck to bring his attention back to me. Eyebrows furrowed, I shook my head at Jisung, my hand reaching down to grab his dick. My fist jerked him up and down, enjoying the way his mouth fell open, bottom lip jutting out completely. 

“I said, fuck me, Jisung,” his hand met mine, circling around my fist, nudging his tip against my clit, the wetness easily allowing him to slide against me. Jisung nudged my hand away, fingers interlocking with mine as he brought them above my head. He pushed his hips forward, grinding against me until the tip of his length caught my sopping area. 

 Jisung quickly sank in, both moaning loudly at the connection. I could feel my eyes begin to water, Jisung’s head dropping in the crook of my neck, teething at the area. Our hips moved in tandem, Jisung taking deep, slow thrusts, making me feel every inch of his dick inside of me. I clenched around him, eyes nearly rolling back at the tight feel and causing Jisung to bite even harder. 

I feel barely coherent as I try to meet his hips, thrust for thrust, hand still clutched in his. I turned my head, lifting up to suck on the skin of the arm holding my hand down. Jisung’s hips stuttered against me, head lifting from my neck as I bite at his arm, tongue coming out to lave at the skin, soothing the redness around the teeth marks. A string of spit connecting me to his arm had him rutting into me harshly, his hands now moving to stretch my legs to the side, pinning my hips down. 

I cry out, hands grabbing onto his biceps for support as he thrusted into me wildly. It was like as someone was gliding an ice cube inside me before the temperature returned to normal, Jisung a groaning, whimpering mess above me, mouth open as the icy blue of his eyes doubled, almost making them white. I gasped as his body seemed to go back and forth from being warm to cold, as if he wasn’t able to control his supernatural abilities. 

“Let go for me, Frost, l-let me see you,” Jisung’s eyes found mine, a vulnerability in them that left me shook to my core. I smiled softly at him, my eyes still watery from the pleasure. Jisung’s mouth opened, most likely to argue, but I placed a finger over them, shaking my head, eyes imploring him. “Please?”

Jisung eyes remained the same, except he continued his deep thrusting, eyes not leaving mine as his body became cold, the length inside of me feeling like an icicle. His skin unable to cool the fire burning in me as I raked my hand through his blue locks, pulling him down so our lips met. Tongues sliding into each others mouth, teeth trying to nip, sucking when we could, spit dripping from our mouths. 

The air around us seemed to fill with snowflakes and yet everywhere he touched me burned. The burn of his hand against my stomach, pushing in to feel the burning of his length inside me. 

“You’re so good to me, sweets, aren’t you?” Jisung cooed at me, lips moving towards down to my chest. He teethes at my nipples again, fingers pinching where he couldn’t bite. “Letting me fuck this pretty pussy, you were begging to be fucked by Jack Frost, weren’t you baby?”

“Ahh, yes- nugh, wanted you from the second I s-saw- ohhh fuck, Ji, I- I’m close,” I whimpered my head digging into the soft mattress under me. Jisung’s eyebrows were pinched together, his lips bruised, but blue? The color matching his hair. 

“You’re close, sweets?” he pouted at me, he pumped harder, his breathing ragged. “Wanna cum with you, baby, hmm? You wanna cum with me, don’t you?” I’m nodding my head, his fingers holding my neck in a light pressure. I would want to do anything with him if it meant we’d come back together like this. That I would see him again.

“Please, Ji, please, please.”

“That’s it, baby, cum with me, do it.” 

The burst of white around us became so intense, I felt myself go limp, eyes rolling back as Jisung continued to pump into me through the orgasm. I couldn’t even say if any noises left me as I felt myself succumbing to the pleasure, the ice inside of me creating a deep fire within me, bursting out of me. Without a second of peace, I could feel the explosion of Jisung’s orgasm, the icy full feeling causing another wave to crash over me, clenching around him tightly to milk everything out of him. 

Jisung groaned deeply above, hips driving it to me as we rode our pleasure together. The wild sounds coming from his lips fall muffled to my ears, still ringing as I struggled to come down from the high. I could vaguely feel Jisung slowly slip from me, hand coming to touch my swollen center, fingers slipping in my drenched hole to push our shared cum back inside of me. He settled next to me, fingers still inside me, but wrapping his free arm around my waist to bring me closer to him. 

“You did so good, sweets, so good for me,” Jisung noses at my ear, whispering praises into my ear to bring me back to him. The hand not in me, caressing my skin, the coolness of his touch grounding me. I hummed, turning my head into his chest, hands tracing his chest and stomach. 

“I’ll be good for you, Jisung,” I murmured into his cold skin, a small smile gracing my face when I felt his lips touch my forehead. A nice blanket of exhaustion washes over me, my body immediately relaxing despite the coldness of the room. I remembered whining when he finally took his fingers from me, body lifting from the bed, taking the comforting cold with him. 

I was on the depths of sleep when I could feel something warm and slightly rough wipe gently at the wetness in between my legs, before was that lotion on my legs? I blinked up lazily, moving to try and sit up as I watched him apply lotion to my legs so carefully, hands kneading at my thighs and calves. 

“Sungie…” 

His eyes flashed to me holding so much affection, so soft that I wanted to cry. He leaned his head down, bringing his lips to the inside of my knee as he finished the last of the lotion, but continuing to rub his hands on my skin. 

“Sweets, I think I’ll have to keep you.” 

It was quiet for a beat, the weight of his words settling. I watched as Jisung almost shrunk into himself, as if his confession would cause me to run away screaming. I furrowed my brows at him, his eyes stuck to my legs, lips barely moving from where they rested on my skin. I sit up, hands grasping at his arms to pull him towards me, pushing him down to lay down on the bed, head nestled against the pillows. He watched me with an unreadable gaze, yet his body pliant to every touch I made. I pulled the blanket from under us, making sure it covered us both completely. 

“Keep me then.”

Falling asleep with Jisung felt familiar and strange. The coldness should’ve bothered me, the coolness of skin should have alarmed me, but I only felt peace as I slipped away, eyes closing. If only I had noticed him watching me, noticed the way he went into himself again, maybe I could’ve prevented it. 

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

I gasped awake, the heat of the room becoming increasingly more uncomfortable as I stumbled from my bed. I rushed towards the kitchen, opening the freezer to grab an ice pack, moaning as it touched my skin. My eyes watering wondering when I wouldn’t feel the desire to do this anymore, but truthfully never wanting the cold to leave, wanting it to stay permanently engrained to my skin. 

It had been days since Christmas, four days actually since I woke up back in my room, alone and hot. I hate it. I missed him, desperate to see him again, but it appeared as though it was a dream. The club seemed to have vanished, no search engine finding the magical winter club. My one and only attempt to ask Damian had me blanching, it was as if his memory was erased, the only thing he could tell me was that he had one of the best night’s sleeps he’s ever had. 

I stood in my bathroom, naked in front of the mirror as I dragged my fingers down my body, tracing over every teeth mark and bruise left over. The largest marks being on my breasts, nipples still raw, begging for the same abuse. I could feel him still on my body, feel him come inside of me, the ice cold sensation something I will never be able to forget.

Each passing day brought me closer to insanity, the overwhelming need to be surrounded and engulfed by coldness becoming too much. Damian had murmured his concerns before he was set to leave to spend a few days at his, let’s refer to him as his special friend, who had returned home the day before from visiting their own family. Damian had said it was too early to spend holidays together which left me rolling my eyes. 

“Are you sure you’re gonna be good?” He eyed my from the door as he finished shrugging his jacket on. I was wearing a large hoodie over my pajamas, feet covered in my new pair of Jack Frost socks, an impulse buy from two days prior that I even spent for same day shipping. I had successfully hid every mark from Damian, thankful I lived on the top floor of our home, free to dress how I wanted and needed to. I had just pulled an ice pack from the freezer, placing it behind my neck as I turned to wave him off. 

“I promise, I’ll be okay, I think I just might be coming down with something,” I shrugged and threw myself on the couch, turning the television on to put the Jack Frost movie on. I heard Damian groan from behind, most likely tired of watching this movie as I’ve replayed it about 15 times in the last 3 days. 

“Uh huh.. well I’ll be back after New Years, call me if you need me okay?” His gaze was worried, but he shot me a soft smile that I returned. 

“I will, have fun! Tell Tris I said hi!” He calls out a last goodbye as he shuts the door to our townhouse, locking it behind him. The smile on my face drops as I turn back to the movie, ice pack falling onto my lap as I stared blankly. I pull the large hoodie off my body, gasping finally once the heat left my body, dying to feel cold. I had opted to wearing a Christmas themed pajamas set, a tank top with a snowflake in the middle and shorts littered with them. Each day my clothing had become more revealing, trying to find the cold again. Damian had refused to let me put the AC on, stating that even if it wasn’t super cold outside, he wouldn’t allow me to turn the house into a freezer. 

It wasn’t until the movie was almost done that I realized I was crying. The bottom lip quivering as I watch Jack blow the cold air over Elisa’s bouquet. A loud sob bursts forth before I can stop it and I am suddenly overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions. Was I sick? How could I feel so much for a stranger in just a night? Why did it have to be him? 

I longed to regret that night, to forget it the way Damian could. Erase it from my memory just as the club seemed to have vanished into thin air. I could try and hate it, hate every second of that night. Of him. Of how he made me feel, how he touched me. But nothing could take away the way he looked at me. A look full of longing and hope, as if he finally found what he was looking for. 

I sank down off the couch, bringing the ice pack up to my face as I continued to cry. The coldness of the pack numbing the burning of my face. My chest heaves for air as I curled up into a ball, laying on my side. My eyes shut, my body shaking as I let myself finish releasing my emotions. I felt empty and more alone than ever, fingers tightening their grip around the ice pack, holding it against my chest now. 

I close my eyes, no longer caring if I finish the movie. The carpet rough on my cheek as I sniffed and brought a fist to wipe my tears. 

“Fuck you, Jisung, for making me cry,” I pout and toss the ice pack away from me. I sat up, bringing my knees up to my chest, looking off to the side at the window. I laid my head against my knees, arms wrapping around my legs. 

“I miss you, Mr. Frost,” pout becoming more prominent, I shut my eyes, tired of seeing windows without fresh frost on them. The ending song of the movie begins to play when I notice that the temperature of the room seemed to drop. For the first time in days, I shivered, the cold nipping at my nose, causing me to blink my eyes open in confusion. 

Icy blue orbs met mine, full of guilt, sadness, and desperation. My mouth fell open, eyes unable to stay put long enough on just one part of his handsome face. His blue hair framing his honey skin that seemed to have bits of frost decorating him so beautifully, so perfectly. Fuck him. 

“I missed you too, sweets,” I don’t respond, don’t move, just continue to stare. I can feel my chest begin to heave as I become desperate for air, the frostiness around us somehow providing the comfort I had been desperately seeking for days. Jisung slowly brought his hand to my cheek, eyes full of sadness, blue lips parting as he could see the dried tear streaks. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

“You left me.”

“I know.”

“You said you would keep me.”

“I.. I know, sweets.”

Jisung hung his head, hand still holding my cheek. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, moving my legs out of the circle of my arms, crossing them as I crossed my arms in front of me. 

“Well?”

“I-“ Jisung audibly gulped and shifted from his crouched position, sinking to the floor to mirror me. “I talked to Chan-“

“Santa!” The glower immediately became present, his eyes narrowing at me. I raised an eyebrow at him and he quickly schooled his reaction, sending me a sheepish smile, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. 

“Yea.. Santa.. well I talked to him.. well about you and it’s just-“ Jisung cleared his throat, fingers raking through the blue locks holding onto them. “It’s not often that we meet people and the Man on the Moon can be really particular and Mother Nature can’t always sway him sometimes, he can be a bitch sometimes- Wait, no!” His head shot towards the window, eyes wide as if the Man on the Moon was going to storm in the room. “I mean I’m extremely grateful to him because I wouldn’t be me, Jack Frost, if it weren't for him, but, it’s a lot. Being what we are, what I am. I thought it was just the heat of the moment-“ I snorted causing Jisung to pause. 

“I don’t remember there being much heat, but okay,” he chuckles now, the hand he had on my cheek moving down my arm. Jisung turns to me again, eyes full of hope and affection. 

“You know what I mean, I just- got in my head, but truthfully, Sweets, I missed you. So so much and I’m also just Jisung and your just _______ and I really, really just want to be with you.. I’m sorry I had left you for so long, I shouldn’t have.”

I continued to stare at him, trying so hard to not give any emotions away as he finished. The pit of hope blooming inside of me, he came back for me, he does want me. He was a stranger, he doesn’t know me and I only know Jack Frost, not Jisung. It would be ridiculous to begin anything with him. Insane even. 

“Are you going to leave me again?”

Jisung immediately shook his head, hands grasping at mine, bringing them up to his lips. I couldn’t contain the shiver once his cold lips grazed my knuckles, easing the heat that I’ve grown to hate.

“No, I won’t.”

I stared at him for a moment before pulling my hands from his grasp and standing to my feet, walking around him. 

“Can’t believe you stopped holding my hand,” I grumble, stopping towards the kitchen to pour a glass of water. 

“Sweets, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to,” Jisung follows me pouting, the cloud of frost following him, falling into my cup as he crowds into my space. “I would’ve kept my fingers inside of your tight pussy forever if you’d let me.”

I gasp, slapping his chest. “Jisung!”

“What?” He laughed, smile bright as I leaned into him not realizing, taking a sip of my water as I roll my eyes at him. “But I promise you, Sweets, I mean it, I want you.”

His hands rests on my hips as I keep my gaze focused on my water. 

“Are you asking me to be your Suzy Snowflake?” Jisung snorted, forehead coming to rest on mine. He grabbed the glass from my hand, placing it behind me on the counter. His hand returns to my hip, sliding it to my lower back to pull me flush against him. 

“You think Suzy holds a candle to you?” I blush, hands coming to rest on his chest, taking in his outfit for the first time. A black suit, with a black button up and tie. Fuck did he look so good. I was ready to forgive him completely. His feet were in just socks, even if invisible to anyone else, still took his shoes off at the door. I bite my lip, fingers going to his tie as his hand on my lower back went further down, resting on my ass, squeezing. “Sweets, you’ve ruined me completely, don’t you know that?” 

I stretch up on my toes, lips just barely grazing his before I pulled away. A million questions bubbling in my mind. Hold on now.

“Wait, how did you know where I live?” Jisung blushes now, a shy pouty look on his face. I tilt my head to the side, raising an eyebrow as he mumbled so slow I couldn’t hear. “Jisung, how?”

He drops his head on my shoulder, leaning his weight against me, pushing me into the counter. 

“Chan and Felix told me, they thought it would be creepy if I showed up like this, but you don’t think it’s creepy right? I’m not creepy?” His eyes go wide, huge boba looking orbs as he puffs his cheeks. My hands tighten their hold on his tie. 

Fuck me. 

“No, baby you aren’t creepy,” Jisung melted into me, wrapping his arms completely around me now to lift me off my feet. The crisp coldness washes over me and I grip onto his shoulders, savoring it. Jisung’s lips touch my neck dragging a shiver out of me as he starts to nibble. “Who’s Felix?”

Jisung groans, not moving from my neck, but rather taking a rough bite. I yelp, hand trailing up to his hair to scratch his scalp. “Jisung, be nice to me! I know Santa now.”

A hand quickly swats at my ass, pulling a shriek from me as Jisung hauls me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. Jisung snorts as I pout at him, his hand rubbing where he hit. 

“Don’t be a brat.”

“I just wanna know your friends, baby,” I jut my lip further out at him as he leads us back towards the living room. He sits down on the couch, making sure I am settled comfortably on his lap. His hands rubbing at my bare thighs, goosebumps raising all over. Cold surrounding us completely, he stares at me, eyes intense. 

“I like your socks.”

My eyes widen in surprise before giggling as I glance down to where his fingers reach out to graze them.

“I bought them for you.”

He doesn’t respond, but a smile grows on his face, proud and shy. He pinches at my heel, tightening the hand on my thigh when I giggle again, face falling into the crook of his neck. It’s quiet for a moment, frost settling around us before I raise up again, grinning sheepishly.

“So.. who’s Felix?” Jisung barks out a laughter, eyebrows furrowing as he fake glares at me. 

“You should only care about me! Don’t ask about them, why do you need to know? Are you trying to get with them?”

He crosses his arms and I chuckle, wrapping my arms around his neck to press kisses around his face, the last one a gentle touch to his lips. Jisung whimpers under me, wrapping an arm around my waist, the other hand moving down to my ass. We press closer together, mouths opening to for our tongues to meeting.

We moan in sync, the cold touch of his tongue erasing the mountain of loneliness that I had felt for days. It felt so right, every inch of my body covered in frost, as we pulled each other closer, his teeth biting at my mouth. With one last nip on my bottom lip, we separate, a string of spit connecting our lips. His thumb swipes at it, sucking on his appendage for our shared liquid. I shiver in his lap, my hands cradling his cheeks, thumb swiping over them. 

“You’re so silly, Mr. Frost, I thought it was obvious I only want you,” Jisung blushes, hands falling to my hips, rubbing circles in time with the strokes I made on his cheeks. 

“I only want you too,” I giggle, rubbing my noses on his. “And to answer your question, Felix is…” Jisung trails off, looking to the side with a pout. “The Tooth Fairy.”

“The Tooth Fairy!” I jump in his lap, hands falling on his shoulders as I stare at him wonder. Jisung hisses, his hands clenching them on my thighs as I wiggled on top of him. “I can’t believe you know the Tooth Fairy, you’re so cool,” Jisung smirks at me as he shrugs, doing his best to appear nonchalant, but the tips of ears turning red gives him away. His hands knead my ass, pulling me flush against him. 

“I mean, it is pretty cool. We have the club as a way for us to convene-“

“Hey, wait- I’m sorry to interrupt, but speaking of the club! Where the fuck did it go?” 

He winces, nodding his head in understanding. “Okay yea, that’s my bad, I totally spaced on this,” he runs a hand down my arm to grasp at my hand and pull it up to his lips, taking his time to lightly bite the pads of my fingers as he continued to explain. “It’s magic. I wasn’t lying when I said we stay open during the holiday for people that don’t have anyone to share it with. It also serves as our home, you saw my space, we each have our own. And again a place for us to hold meetings. So then when it’s not a holiday, the club turns invisible to the mundane eye. Mother Nature says it’s for our protection.”

There’s a shortness to my breath now as I did my best to concentrate on his words, nodding my head in understanding. The fire inside of me grew, watching as he murmurs against my fingers, content, eyes meeting mine as he stops at my thumb. Our breaths growing heavy, the hand he kept on my ass trailing up my back to rest on the nape of my neck, bringing me closer to him. Every exhale he made sent the soft frosty air into my mouth, leaving me salivating and wanting. My eyes drooped, trying to focus on the conversation at hand, but struggling the longer he continues to look at me. 

“I have a lot of questions, Ji-“ he nodded his head, mouth opening to probably assure me that he’d answer everyone of them. I press my thumb, still grazing his bottom lip, to firmly stop him before he could say anything. “But we’ll have time for that later.”

I ease off his lap, sinking into the space between his legs, resting on my knees, hands rubbing up and down his body. Jisung’s breathing grows ragged, icy blues eyes intensifying as my fingers met the button and zipper of his slacks. 

“I want you, Mr. Frost.”

“You already do, Sweetness,” his voice his rough, as I undo his pants, sliding the zipper down slowly.  He leans forward shrugging his suit jacket off, the black button up straining on his shoulder and chest, bulging around the muscles of his biceps.

“I meant to tell you I love your suit.”

“Yea, baby?” He lifts his hips to help me pull his pants further down, bringing his boxers down with them. His dick springs forth, already hard and leaking from his tip. I mock gasp at him, thumb rubbing the pre-cum leaking out of him. He whines as I take him in my fists, tongue taking a kitten lick from the tip. I moaned as the coldness touched my tongue, the icicle length stinging as I pumped him, flicking my wrist every so often. 

I wrapped my lips around him further, tongue laving at the underside of his hard length. I take him deeper, leaving him a moaning mess above, his head back against the couch cushions, eyes screwed shut and the cutest pout on his lips. The absolute fucked out expression spurs me on as I lift up, popping him out of my mouth to spit on him before taking him again, mouth freezing as my nose brushing against the skin of his pubic bone. 

Every noise he releases goes straight to my pussy, aching hole leaking and clenching around nothing. I knew my shorts and panties were ruined at this point, the wetness dripping, soaking me completely through. The hand I had kept on his thigh for support, trails down to my center, gargling around him as my fingers tickle my covered clit. 

He shouts a curse, a hand pulling my hair from my face to watch me take him in my mouth. I move my hand from around him, placing it on top of the hand on my head, encouraging him. He takes the opportunity, guiding my head up and down on his icicle, holding me down. My mouth hangs open, tongue out as he begins to thrust into my mouth, whimpering each time the tip of his dick touches the back of my throat. 

“Sweets, oh fuck, Sweets, so good, baby, such a good baby,” Jisung’s voice is rough, his breathing puffing clouds of frost. “Sweets, I’m gonna cum,” Jisung’s hips stutter, gagging me as spit drools from my mouth onto his dick. “I don’t wanna cum in your mouth.”

Jisung pulls me from him, lifting me to my feet, hands going to the hem of my tank, mine going to the buttons of his shirt, but I’m unable to even get one of the buttons from his rushed pace. He lifts my shirt over my head to the side, hands moving next to my shorts and underwear, hissing when he sees the mess I made. His eyes trail further down until they see my socks, drawing a laugh from me as he looks at me, begging. 

“You don’t know what you do to me, baby, we’re keeping those on,” Jisung doesn’t wait to get undressed himself, dragging me onto his lap, legs going on either side of him. He rucks his shirt up just enough to see where we will be connected. 

“I need you, Sweets, I shouldn’t have left you, I’m so sorry,” Jisung hands are hurried, one gripping my ass, the other going to his dick, swiping it against my drenched holes. I slowly sink down onto him, the cold dragging a silent moan from me, mouth falling open as I welcomed him back inside.  My arms wrap around his shoulders, nose at his temple as he begins to move my hips up and down his length. “I’m gonna make it up to you, I promise.” He punctuates his words with a rough thrust into me.

“Oh, Ji,” I move down, lips going to the underside of his jaw, sucking at his skin. I circle my hips, swiveling a figure eight, sinking deeper down on his length, satisfied by the fullness of him. His brings a hand forward, cold fingers slipping on my clit. I shriek, squeezing around his dick, drawing more curses from him. 

Each grind of his length taking me higher, mind going numb, the cold all-consuming. Jisung’s head lifted, eyes glazing over as he looked at the marks still on my body, before they darkened, head dipping down to make them fresh. 

I groan as his teeth start their own mission to mark my body. Jisung took away the dark cloud that had developed over me since he left. A rational part of my brain wants to slap myself for becoming so attached to this stranger, but as he pulls away, a small smile on his face, fingers running over the swells of my tits, teeth marks prominent once again, I ignored that thought. 

Each glide caused the frost to grow, breaths mingling once more as we continued our slow and sensual connection. We held each others gazes, mouths open and touching, his fingers returning to my clit as he drew circles once more. Jisung’s suddenly moves his hands to grip under my thighs, keeping us connected and moving me to lay my back on the couch with him hovering above me. He watches in fascination, my tits jiggling with as he starts his pumping into me again. 

“I have so much to make up for, never having you gone from my side again, fuck you were made for me,” Jisung emphasizes his point, fingers pinching my nipples and pulling them, smirking as I wailed from pleasure, eyes watering from the intensity. Grinding his hips roughly after a harsh thrust, as if he was trying to sear us together. My hands grasp onto his clothed biceps, frustrated I couldn’t feel the complete chill of his skin. “Should’ve never let my Sweetness alone for so long, what was I thinking, wasn’t nice of me at all, huh?”

I shake my head at him, tears of pleasure leaking from eyes and cunt, drenching my face, his thighs and lower abdomen. Jisung groans, fingers going to pinch and rub at my clit rapidly, the noticeable fluttering and tightening of my hole egging him on to pull my orgasm out. 

I cry out his name, my vision blurring as the first wave hits me, washing over me, leaving me shaking as he continues to thrust inside of me, his own orgasm rearing its head. Jisung grunts, leaning down to touch our foreheads together, hand slipping up around my neck. The air he releases is freezing now, flurries of frost hitting us as he drills into me, hips jerking sloppily. My mouth falls open, tongue out which Jisung takes the opportunity to lewdly spit inside, whimpering seeing me swallow it. Everything about him was cold to touch and leaving me yearning for more. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Sweets, you want it?” I nod my head, lifting the hand around my neck to my lips, sucking his fingers into my mouth, teething at them. Jisung’s other hand is holding on the crook of neck, thumb pressing into my collarbone as he pummels into me. I had long already felt the second orgasm rushing ahead, ready to be released. “Of course you do, my dirty Sweetness, gonna take it all,” Jisung releases a wild groan, hunching forward his length releases a fountain inside of me, triggering my second release. 

The ice cold sensation overpowers me once again, eyes falling closed as he caresses me through it, taking me back to early Christmas morning. The care he had taken towards me, his gentle touch that had rubbed lotion into my legs, that had continued the same treatment after the several other rounds we had completed that night. I run my hand through his hair, his head buried in my neck as we both came down. I turned my head to the side, pressing my lips firmly to his temple. 

Jisung slips out of me slowly, wincing at the grimace on my face, fingers taking their place inside, pushing his cum back inside of me. He grabs my shirt from the floor, wiping at his dick first so he can watch his fingers pump out of me. The cold doesn’t dissipate, etching itself inside of me. He pulls away to clean me and then his fingers. 

“My shirt,” I pout, causing him to lean over to press a kiss against mine. He’s lifting me from the couch, wrapping my legs around his waist again, my hands holding onto his shoulders. 

“I’ll you another pajama set, one with my face on it, now where’s your room,” I grumble at him, pointing towards the staircase to the second floor. “I’ve got days to make up for, Sweetness.”

He begins the trek up the stairs, his pants still undone, half hard dick still hanging out. I couldn’t help, but grind my lower half against his stomach, biting my lip as the wetness transferred onto him. He about trips on the last step, hand flying out to catch us. 

“You know how you can make it up to me?” He whines as I nibble on his earlobe. 

“Tell me, Sweets, whatever you want.”

I grin devilishly, tongue laving at the skin below his ears. My bedroom door is open, neon lights glowing blue, the air dropping as soon as he steps us in. 

“You really want to make it up to me, baby?” I whisper to him, pulling away to rub my thumb on his blue lips. He’s nodding his head, mouth opening to suck on my thumb, teeth scraping against it. He’s in front of the bed now, strong arms tightening as I kept my slow grind against his stomach. 

“Anything, Sweets, please.”

I hold the smirk in now that he’s looking at my face, keeping my face open, eyes begging at him now. His icy blues intense, full of desire and affection, mouth still sucking on my finger. 

“I want-“ he nods his head, encouraging me to continue. “I want to meet ALL your friends.” 

Jisung stills, even the frost in the room as he stares at me. Before he drops me on the bed, causing me to bounce and catch myself before I fell off. He scoffs and glares at me, taking off his clothing as the temperature drops even more. 

“You’re annoying,” I burst out laughing, falling to the side as I watched him undress, glaring and grumbling. He turns me on my stomach, swatting at my ass I continued to giggle, gasping in mock offense.

“Hey! What did I say, you have to be nice to me! Or else!”

He slaps my ass even harder this time, body coming over mine, head coming next to mine. 

“You really think you’re on the nice list?” Jisung snorts above, the hand that slapped my ass now gripping it harshly. “Maybe I should tell Chan what a bad girl you actually are,” he ruts his bare dick against my ass, his hard length drawing a moan from, the icicle a rod of searing pleasure. I lifted my hips, grinding up into him, hushed moans passing through my lips. “Maybe, I’ll even tell Jeongin, you know close we are to New Years, you wanna fuck that up for yourself, hmm?”

I gasp as his hand falls roughly on my ass again, his other fisting at the strands of my hair, pulling my head back so he can bite at my neck. 

“You-“ I heaved in frosty air, eyes nearly rolling back as he straddled my hips, keeping my legs together, before sinking into me from behind, groaning at the tightness of it. I cry out as he begins a punching speed, thrusting into me with abandon. “Y-you know Baby New Year!?”

“You’ve got to be fucking-“ Jisung growls in my ear, arm coming to wrap my neck, putting me a chokehold, not enough to hurt me, but to pull me up to my knees, back flushed with his chest. His thrusting never ceasing. “Such a fucking brat.”

“‘M your brat.”

“Yea, Sweetness,” he lips gentle as they touched my cheek, his free hand tweaking my bitten nipples. “You’re my brat forever, you got that?”

“Yes, Mr. Frost.”

The night passed in a blur, the cold filled pleasure knocking me down, leaving me weak to it, desiring for him and frost no matter how many times he filled me. I struggled to sleep, scared of what would happen in the morning. If he would still be there when I woke up or would I be met with heat. With a burning fire that would consume me and I’d be left roaming the Earth, seeking to be cold once again. 

I wasn’t sure when I finally did end up closing my eyes, Jisung having wrapped me in his cold arms, thin blanket resting over us. His fingers trailing over every mark, new and old ones that he made fresh again. He had spent a significant amount of time rubbing oil into my ass, the teeth marks having been so deep, he remarked I could get them tattooed. 

For the past 4 days, I awoke gasping and sweaty, sensual dreams becoming nightmares. The heat of my room forcing me to either take cold showers or an ice pack to rub on my skin. This morning however, it was only one thing, which caused my lips to tilt up as I snuggled in further, the coolness of it lulling me back to sleep, content knowing it would stay with me forever. 

The frosty air of Jack Frost nipping at my nose. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Holidays! I hope everyone had a wonderful time doing whatever it is you do and thank you for taking the time to read. XOXOXOXOOXO

I want to make it clear that I do not condone plagiarism in any form. All of the work I create is original. Please do not copy or reproduce my work without proper permission or attribution. 

[sirhamburrger]

akari - daichi sawamura x reader (spotify wrapped + bday + new year's fic LMAO)

>> in which daichi needs a little push from you to confess his feelings. >> tags/cw: reader’s gender unspecified, reader is a third year in daichi’s class, set right before nationals, daichi is whipped and reader knows it >> wc: 766 >> a/n: (my first hq post in a hot minute WHEW) for spotify writing challenge - number 13 + a karasuno third year for @stellar-headquarters!! mbmb this was so long overdue but i’m really killing knocking out three birds with one stone here LOLOL || dividers by @cafekitsune

”something i thought i could find anywhere // exists only here between the two of us” ~ akari (soushi sakiyama)

it’s new year’s eve, fast approaching midnight, and daichi thinks his heart is going to explode.

you’re both sitting cross-legged in foldable chairs on asahi’s balcony, holding cups of diluted lukewarm fruit punch. while your classmates party inside, whooping and yelling, it’s quiet here out under the night sky. peaceful. you take a sip of the bland concoction.

“so how does it feel to be going to nationals in four days?”

he tries not to let his eyes linger too much on how the residual punch makes your lips glisten in the low light.

“surreal,” he admits. “i never thought we’d get this far.”

you hum as you swirl the liquid in your cup around, seemingly satisfied with his answer. 

“and how does it feel to hide from me that your birthday is today?”

the cup raised to his lips, he nearly chokes. 

“relax,” you say, leaning back in your seat. “i didn’t tell anyone else. i know you wouldn’t want people knowing. but honestly, let people spoil you once in a while, y’know?”

he finds himself heaving a sigh of relief mixed with just a little exasperation. “thanks.”

daichi has been classmates with you for three years. you haven’t ever really been connected with volleyball in any way, but somehow he feels that he’s closer to you than any of his teammates. so it’s no surprise you found out about his birthday. what you probably don’t know, though, is that he really wants to kiss you right now, and he’s wanted to do that for the past one and a half years.

how could he not?

you both hear suga yelling at asahi to dance like his life depends on it, and you chuckle, eyelids fluttering shut. 

“i’ll miss you guys,” you murmur. “when you’re gone for nationals, i mean.”

there it is again - that strange ache in his chest. “i’ll miss you too.”

“so, i’m gonna give you this.” you fumble around in your pocket for a bit, then pull out an acrylic bear keychain. it’s clearly handmade - one of its eyes is smaller than the other, and one of its ears is a little squished. 

but he loves it already, because you made it.

“thank you,” he says, attempting to take it from your outstretched hand. but you pull away at the last second, clutching it back to your chest with a devilish smile.

“tell me first, and then you get this little guy over here.” you loop your finger through the chain attached to kuma-chan’s head (because that’s what daichi has named him in his mind, kuma-chan), spinning the little bear around.

he frowns. “tell you what?”

“tell me what you’ve been hiding,” you say, your voice light but your eyes gleaming with intent. the bear spins lazily on its chain still, catching the faint glow of the streetlights below.

“i don’t know what you mean,” he tries, though his voice wavers enough to betray him.

you arch a brow. “really? wow. and here i thought captain daichi was a good liar.”

he feels cornered, his pulse hammering in his ears. the crowd inside grows louder - ten seconds until midnight, the rest of the party shouting numbers at the top of their lungs. 

in this moment, he realizes he has two choices: deny it and spend another year pining after you, or just say it and hope he doesn’t ruin everything.

“five! four!” the crowd chants.

“fine,” he blurts out, leaning forward, his cup clinking awkwardly against the side of his chair. “i like you. no, i - i think i’m in love with you, and… and i think  i have been for a while now, so -”

“three! two!”

you’re grinning now, wide and mischievous. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“one!”

and then you’re leaning in, closing the gap between you, pressing your lips to his. it’s soft, sweet, and everything he’s imagined and more. for a second, the world falls away - no yelling classmates, no cold night air, no lukewarm fruit punch. just you and your peppermint chapstick making his lips tingle.

when you pull back, his head feels like it’s spinning. you drop the bear keychain into his hand, smirking.

“happy new year, daichi,” you whisper, smile saccharine. “and happy belated birthday.”

he looks at you, at the way your eyes sparkle, and he can’t help but smile back.

“happy new year.”

for the first time in all the years he's known you, the ache in his chest is gone.

a/n (again): my new year's present to all the daichi lovers out there (and loml stellar ofc!!)(i have learnt that i literally cannot spell daihci right. diachi. d a i c h i .)

haikyuu masterlist || general masterlist

© sirhamburrger 2024

[theetherealbloom]

IF THERE'S NOTHING LEFT - CH.4

Chapter Four: No Man Is An Island, There's Shipwrecks And Sirens

Summary: You, a skilled healer, are brought to Rome by Senator Gracchus under the pretense of treating gladiators and Roman elites. You work with General Marcus Acacius to fight against the cruel reign of the twin emperors. Through danger and shared hope, your connection becomes a source of strength as you both dream of freeing Rome.

Paring: General Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, ANGST, Fluff, SMUT, Age-Gap(ish), Ancient Rome, Canon-Typical Violence, Gladiators, Blood, Gore, Romance, Politics, Alternate Universe, Eventual SMUT, Slavery, Sexism, Misogyny, Guilt, PTSD, Rebellion, Empires, (Very Light) Strangers-to-Enemies-to-Friends-to-Lovers, Crowds, Shouting, Animals, Duels, Loose Historical Fiction, Kissing, Torture, Threats, 

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N:  Well, shit, this is probably one of the more difficult chapters I’ve ever had to write. Why is it, that directors look at Pedro Pascal and go, “Hrm, let’s murder his character!” LIKE HELLO??? LET HIM LIVE???? Anyways, I know it’s a short chapter, but we’re halfway through the movie so wish me luck writing the rest of this! T^T

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: hunter by Paris Paloma

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TRAINING GROUND, COLOSSEUM — DAY

As a healer, you’re no stranger to witnessing pain and cruelty, though it never gets easier. Especially not here, in the heart of Rome's unforgiving Colosseum, where strength is tested, and humanity is often discarded.  

The midday sun bore down on the training ground, casting long, harsh shadows over the gladiators. Your eyes fixed on Lucius—Hanno, as they called him now—pulling his oars under the relentless gaze of Viggo. The overseer loomed, his figure dark and menacing against the brightness, as though the sun itself shied away from illuminating his cruelty.  

Lucius, despite the strain visible in every muscle of his body, offered a smirk sharp enough to cut through the tension. “We will not get far like this,” he quipped, his defiance a flicker of hope against the grinding despair around him.  

Viggo’s response was swift. He raised his hand, silencing the rowers with a mere gesture. The command came like the crack of a whip: “Just him.”  

You watched, your heart sinking, as Lucius was left alone to man the colossal oar. The weight of three men now fell upon him, and the sound of the grinding logs echoed through the dust-heavy air. Yet even as Viggo reveled in his cruelty, the other gladiators exchanged glances—silent, simmering solidarity with Lucius.  

Viggo, sensing the shift, barked another order. “Take them away. Leave him here.”  

As the others were herded off, you stood frozen, the healer's instinct to intervene warring with the dangerous knowledge of your limits. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides as Lucius labored alone, the weight of his chains mirrored in the ache in your chest.  

Ever since losing your parents, grief had become an unwelcome but constant companion. It arrived in waves—sometimes subtle, sometimes overwhelming. This moment, watching Lucius endure, felt like another tide rolling in.  

But you had learned one thing from grief: it demanded preparation. You turned, making your way toward Ravi under the guise of rearranging your supplies. Bending low, you whispered, “Gather the rebels. Quietly. Every ally who dares to dream of a better Rome. If Marcus’ plan falters, we must be ready.”  

Ravi gave a nearly imperceptible nod, his expression one of grim understanding.  

TRAINING GROUND, COLOSSEUM — NIGHT  

The scorching heat of the day had given way to a quiet, stifling night, the kind where every shadow seemed to hold its breath. The training ground was eerily still, the only sounds the faint rustle of the wind and the distant hum of the city.  

Lucius lay slumped over the oars, his body unmoving save for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The chains binding him to the machine glinted faintly in the moonlight, a cruel reminder of his captivity.  

You and Ravi approached cautiously, your footsteps muffled by the dirt. Ravi was the first to break the silence, his voice low but warm, meant to soothe rather than startle. “Ah! Ah! It’s just vinegar, my friend,” he murmured as Lucius stirred awake with a sharp intake of breath, his hand instinctively clutching at his wrist. “There will be no more opium for you.”  

Lucius blinked, his gaze flitting between you and Ravi as understanding slowly dawned. The tension in his shoulders eased, though the exhaustion in his eyes remained heavy, almost unbearable to witness.  

Ravi clicked his tongue, settling himself beside Lucius with an air of practiced calm. “There’s plenty of pain waiting for you in the next life, my friend. You don’t have to be so greedy for it in this one.”  

Lucius let out a short laugh, but even that cost him. He winced as his ribs protested, slumping back against the oars. “Are you a free man, Ravi?” he asked, his voice tinged with irony.  

Ravi chuckled, though the sound carried a note of bitterness. “Free. Huh. I am,” he said, his tone contemplative. “I laid down my sword and swore I’d never pick it up again.”  

As you set down a few vials beside your seat, you couldn’t help but smile faintly at Ravi’s words. Lucius turned his gaze to you then, his eyes sharper now despite his weariness. “And you?” he asked, your name slipping from his lips like a question he’d pondered long before this moment. “Are you free, my lady?”  

His question hit deeper than you expected. Your jaw clenched, the ache spreading to your temples as you fought the instinctive bitterness in your tone. “A free woman of Rome is unheard of,” you replied, your voice low but steady. “If so, this freedom tastes like ashes. This is who we are—a product of war.”  

Lucius’s eyes lingered on you, searching for something unspoken in your answer. Then he shifted his attention, addressing you both. “And yet you remain in this hell? Where was your home before?”  

Ravi spoke first, his voice calm but tinged with longing. “Varanasi,” he said simply, shrugging as if that one word carried the weight of an entire world.  

You worked silently, pouring a tincture over Lucius’s knuckles. He winced, his sharp intake of breath breaking the stillness. As you tended to him, Ravi continued, his voice softening. “I wish I could — I met a woman.”  

Lucius gave a dry laugh, his lips curling despite his pain. “Always a woman.”  

Ravi smiled faintly, the memory brightening his face. “From Londinium, in Britannia. Our boys speak only Latin now. My daughter’s eyes are as blue as yours. We are Romans, through and through.”  

Lucius smiled at that, a wistful expression passing over his face. He gazed off into the distance, his voice soft as he said, “I grew up hearing stories at my grandfather’s knee. He used to talk about the dream that was Rome.”  

You leaned in slightly, your voice quiet, almost reverent. “And what was this dream?”  

Lucius’s smile turned fond, his words carrying the weight of something fragile, something precious. “A Rome where all would live under fair law. Where everyone would be protected. A Rome for the senate… a Rome of hope.” He paused, then added, almost to himself, “It was so delicate, you could only whisper it. Say it too loud, and it would vanish.”  

Ravi muttered under his breath, a flicker of admiration in his tone. “Your grandfather sounds like a dangerous man.”  

Lucius chuckled softly, though the sound was tinged with pain. He met Ravi’s gaze, the exhaustion giving way to determination. “The odds are against you,” Ravi said, his voice serious.  

Lucius smirked, his spirit unbroken. “The odds are always against me. Don’t worry, old man.”  

Ravi clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he stood. “You must rest. Your men will need you to lead them tomorrow.”  

You packed your vials in silence, your fingers lingering on the edge of Lucius’s hand for the briefest moment before pulling away. “Take care,” you said softly, your voice carrying all the unspoken worry and hope you couldn’t put into words.  

Lucius nodded, his eyes lingering on you as you and Ravi turned to leave. The night swallowed your footsteps, leaving him alone once more under the watchful gaze of the moon.

THE COLOSSEUM — DAY  

The sun blazed mercilessly overhead, its light glinting off the azure water that now filled the Colosseum floor. The transformation of the Arena into a vast, shimmering sea was nothing short of breathtaking. Sculpted stone heads lining the walls spouted streams of water, feeding the artificial ocean below, while the scent of salt and damp stone hung in the air.  

You stood alongside Ravi in the shadows of the grandstands, both of you tense and watchful. The Master of Ceremonies’ voice boomed over the amphitheater, amplified by the natural acoustics, “Today we re-live the Battle of Salamis! The Trojans versus the Persians!”  

The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices blending with the pounding of war drums and the triumphant blare of trumpets. Two ships, one from the North gate and the other from the South, emerged into view. The Roman vessel, manned by Centurions dressed in gleaming Athenian garb, glided gracefully through the water. Opposite them, the “Barbarian” ship teetered under its mismatched crew of gladiators.  

From her place in the Royal Box, Lucilla leaned forward, her sharp gaze scanning the ranks of the so-called Barbarians. You followed her line of sight, your heart in your throat. Every gladiator bore the same garb, making them indistinguishable, but you knew who she sought.  

Your breath hitched as the Roman ship unleashed its first volley of flaming arrows. They arced through the air like fiery serpents, their impacts devastating. The sails of the Barbarian ship caught fire, flames licking hungrily at the rigging. The gladiators scrambled, raising shields against the onslaught, but the damage was done.  

“Look at them,” Ravi murmured beside you, his voice tight. “Fighting tooth and nail for survival while the crowd drinks and cheers.”  

You barely heard him, your attention fixed on the unfolding chaos. Lucius was at the helm of the Barbarian ship, his jaw set in determination. Under his command, the crew moved like a singular force, cutting the burning rigging loose and tossing it into the water. Below, tiger sharks circled like phantoms, their sleek bodies slicing through the blue in search of prey.  

“He’s going to ram them,” you whispered, your nails digging into the railing.  

Lucius steered his vessel with unflinching precision. At the last moment, instead of colliding head-on, he veered sharply alongside the Roman ship, splintering their oars with a sickening crunch. The Barbarian ship swung around, grappling hooks flying as the gladiators pulled the two vessels together.  

And then chaos erupted.  

The battle was a storm of clashing swords and cries of pain. Lucius led the charge, every inch the commander he had been born to be. He moved through the melee with calculated ferocity, cutting down his enemies with swift, precise strikes. You couldn't take your eyes off him, your heart pounding with every close call.  

Amid the chaos, a Roman archer fell, his loaded crossbow skittering across the deck. Lucius’s sharp eyes landed on it, but as he moved to claim it, a Centurion tackled him, nearly dragging them both into the water. Lucius grabbed the rail, holding on for dear life as the Centurion slipped, his leg plunging into the water below. A tiger shark struck with terrifying speed, dragging the soldier down in a swirl of blood.  

The water churned red as the sharks, drawn by the carnage, slammed against the hulls in a frenzy. The crowd roared, drunk on the spectacle of blood and death.  

Lucius pulled himself back aboard, his movements frantic yet purposeful. His men had seized control of the Roman ship, but there was no time to celebrate. Smoke and the acrid scent of burning wood filled the air as the two vessels began drifting dangerously close to the Royal Box.  

And then you saw it—the loaded crossbow, still lying on the deck.  

Lucius moved fast, his eyes narrowing against the haze. He picked up the weapon, turning it toward the Royal Box. Your heart stopped as his aim shifted, the crossbow trained on a figure emerging from the smoke—General Acacius.  

“No,” you whispered, the word caught in your throat.  

Before you could cry out, Lucilla stepped into view, her presence obscuring Acacius. Lucius hesitated, his finger hovering over the trigger. His eyes met hers, recognition flickering in his gaze.  

And then the arrow released.  

The crowd gasped collectively as the bolt sailed through the air, narrowly missing Lucilla. It struck the gilded post of Geta’s throne, quivering there like a harbinger of doom.  

Geta shot to his feet, his face twisted in rage. “Praetorians! Where are the Praetorians?!” he bellowed, his voice cracking with fury.  

Caracalla squealed in terror, clutching at his robes as the guards swarmed in to shield the Emperors. Lucilla, however, remained frozen, her face pale as she stared down at the deck of the Barbarian ship.  

“Lucilla!” Acacius’s voice cut through the chaos as he grabbed her arm, trying to pull her away.  

But she didn’t move. Her eyes were fixed on Lucius, and you could see the guilt settling over her like a shroud.

The crowd erupted into a cacophony of cheers and boos as the Master of Ceremonies, clearly shaken, declared, “In the name of the Emperors! Victory has been declared to Hanno!”  

The crowd roared, their frenzied cheers and applause rising like a deafening tide, echoing off the Colosseum’s ancient walls. On the deck of the Barbarian ship, Lucius stood motionless, the crossbow slipping from his hands to clatter against the damp wood. His expression was a mask of stoic calm, but the tension in his jaw betrayed the storm raging within him.  

You released a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, your chest heaving as the adrenaline drained from your body. The railing beneath your hands was slick with sweat, and you forced yourself to loosen your white-knuckled grip.  

Beside you, Ravi shook his head, his brow furrowed with deep concern. “Oh gods have mercy,” he muttered, his voice a fragile thread against the roar of the crowd’s drunken jubilation.  

You didn’t respond immediately, your gaze fixed on Lucius as he stood on the deck of the Barbarian ship. His shoulders were stiff, his chin lifted in a defiance that made your heart ache. From this distance, you couldn’t see his expression clearly, but you didn’t need to. The tension radiating from him was unmistakable. Your chest tightened painfully, a familiar ache settling low in your stomach—a forewarning, a visceral instinct honed by years of navigating Rome’s treacherous politics.  

The crowd’s cheers and jeers blurred into white noise as you turned to Ravi, your voice low but resolute. “We must prepare. Immediately.”  

Ravi’s head snapped toward you, his dark eyes wide with disbelief. “Prepare? Now? For what? This could mean the end for him—or for all of us.”  

You stepped back into the shadows, your movements deliberate despite the thunderous rhythm of your heartbeat. “If Macrinus knows... if he even suspects...” Your words faltered, the unspoken weight of what could follow hanging heavy in the air.  

Ravi’s jaw tightened, his usual humor replaced by grim understanding. “Do you think Macrinus will act?”  

You swallowed the bitterness rising in your throat and nodded. “Yes.”  

Ravi hesitated before asking, “What of Lucilla and your beloved Acacius?”  

Your breath caught at the mention of Acacius, but you quickly steadied yourself, masking the fleeting crack in your composure. “There is a plan for tonight,” you said softly. “I trust Acacius and offer prayers to the gods that all will unfold as intended. But still...” Your voice faltered, dropping to a near-whisper, heavy with unspoken fears. “I cannot silence the thought that something may yet go awry.”

Ravi’s expression softened as he took a step closer. “I understand... but what of you?”  

“What?” you asked, confused by the shift in his tone.  

“They could kill you!” Ravi’s voice rose, tinged with genuine fear.  

You turned your gaze toward the Royal Box, where the twin Emperors had lounged in decadent arrogance, and narrowed your eyes. “If I was easy to kill, they would have done it already.”  

Ravi sighed, his hands flexing at his sides. “You’re brave to a fault. Just... don’t let it be your undoing.”  

You didn’t answer, your attention already shifting back to Lucius as he stepped forward, his silhouette sharp against the golden glow of the torches. The ache in your chest deepened, but there was no time for hesitation.  

THRAEX MANSION — DAY

The air in the corridor was suffocating, the shadows thick as you crept silently along the edge of the room. Your palms pressed against the cold stone pillar, and your breath hitched as you heard the rumble of a carriage pulling to a halt outside.  

The door to the mansion creaked open, and Macrinus stepped inside with a swagger that made your stomach churn. Viggo followed close behind, a shadow to his master’s menace. Macrinus scanned the lavish room with the casual arrogance of someone who already considered it his.  

“What are you doing here?” Thraex stammered, stepping forward with a nervous bow. His pale face and trembling hands betrayed his fear.  

Macrinus sneered. “This house is mine now. Your debt is over ten thousand denarii.”  

Thraex’s lips parted in a desperate attempt to argue. “I have other things. Cattle. Art.”  

Macrinus let out a sharp laugh, his grin wolfish. “You offer me beef and paint? Oh, Thraex.”  

The desperation in Thraex’s voice was palpable. “Slaves then. Or... what do you want?”  

Macrinus tilted his head, feigning surprise. “What do I want?” He toyed with the words, each syllable dripping with mockery. “Well, there is... I could... there might always be... you could…” He paused, his grin widening. “Truth.”  

Your heart sank, a sickening dread twisting in your stomach.  

Thraex blinked rapidly, uncomprehending.  

“Nothing happens in Rome without Thraex’s knowledge,” Macrinus continued smoothly, his tone turning sinister. “You have the Senate’s trust. You have Lucilla’s trust.”  

Thraex visibly faltered. “You wish my loyalty?”  

“I wish your house,” Macrinus said, his eyes gleaming. “It is a nice house. But I will take only your loyalty if that loyalty has worth.”  

The silence that followed was deafening.  

Finally, Thraex’s shoulders slumped, his voice trembling. “I have heard of a... plot. To dethrone the Emperors. But the plan has been... delayed. A gladiator is to be rescued from the arena. Tonight. I know not why—”  

Macrinus’s smile was slow and cruel, satisfaction etched into every line of his face. “I know why. And I know who.”  

Your breath caught, panic surging through you.  

Macrinus turned sharply, signaling Viggo to follow, and they exited the mansion with the same arrogance they’d entered.  

You didn’t wait for them to disappear completely. Heart pounding, you slipped through the shadows and out the back, your mind racing. Every step you took echoed the single thought that now consumed you.  

You had to warn them. You had to warn him.

THE COLOSSEUM — NIGHT

The Colosseum loomed in the moonlight, its ancient stones shrouded in darkness. Faint torchlight flickered from the guards stationed outside the main gate, their silhouettes rigid against the eerie stillness of the empty streets. A stray dog sniffed along the gutter, and a beggar pleaded with a soldier, his voice hoarse with desperation.  

"Move along," the guard barked, his tone merciless. When the beggar hesitated, the soldier lashed out with his spear shaft, sending the man sprawling into the dirt.  

The sharp hiss of an arrow sliced through the quiet. A heartbeat later, the guard collapsed, clutching at his throat, blood bubbling through his fingers as he crumpled to the ground.  

From the shadows, a dozen cloaked figures emerged like wraiths, their movements fluid and silent. The leader stepped over the fallen guard without hesitation, gesturing for the others to follow. They disappeared into the Colosseum's labyrinthine tunnels, leaving behind only the faint echo of their footsteps.  

Inside, the corridors were a maze of flickering shadows and ancient stone. Arrows whispered through the air, finding their marks in unsuspecting guards. Silent blades cut through flesh, spilling lifeblood onto the cold floors. The mission was executed with precision—swift, methodical, and deadly.  

You hurried through the tunnels, heart pounding in your chest as the muffled sounds of combat reached your ears. The smell of blood and damp stone thickened the air. Turning a corner, you froze, your stomach sinking.  

A hundred Praetorians flooded the chamber, their polished armor gleaming faintly in the dim light. They outnumbered Acacius’s elite unit ten to one. Above, archers lined the high platforms, their bows drawn taut, ready to rain death on those below.  

The chaos erupted in a blur of steel and blood. Arrows flew, striking their targets with deadly precision. Acacius’s men fell one by one, their cloaked forms crumpling to the ground. Your breath hitched as the last of them collapsed, leaving a single figure standing amidst the carnage.  

Acacius.  

His hood had fallen back, revealing his face—stone-set, jaw clenched, eyes burning with defiance. His chest heaved, his sword slick with blood, as he stared down the Praetorians who surrounded him.  

You stepped forward, intent on reaching him, when a rough hand seized your arm. A cold blade pressed against your throat, and you froze.  

“Don’t move,” the Praetorian hissed, his grip tightening painfully.  

Acacius’s gaze snapped to you, his expression twisting into something feral. “Let her go!” he roared, his voice echoing through the chamber. “She has nothing to do with this!”  

The sword bit into your skin just enough to sting, and you winced, swallowing back the sharp cry that threatened to escape. Acacius’s knuckles whitened around the hilt of his sword, his body coiled with tension.  

"Nothing to do with this?" The Praetorian sneered, dragging you a step closer. "She's here, isn’t she? Seems she has everything to do with this."  

You met Acacius’s gaze, your eyes pleading yet resolute. “Don’t—” you began, your voice trembling.  

“Enough!” Acacius barked, cutting you off. His voice cracked under the weight of his fury and despair. “I’ll do whatever you want—just let her go!”  

The Praetorian chuckled darkly, his blade still at your throat. “Surrendering so easily, Acacius? I expected more from the great General.”  

“Your fight is with me,” Acacius growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Not her. If you harm her, I swear by the gods—”  

But he faltered, his voice breaking. This wasn’t a battlefield where he could dictate the terms. This was a trap, and he had walked right into it. And now you were paying the price.  

You locked eyes with him, and in that moment, words weren’t necessary. The anguish in his gaze mirrored your own, a silent promise lingering between you: no matter what happened, you would not abandon each other.  

“Marcus,” you whispered, your voice soft yet steady. “Don’t let them win. Not like this.”  

The Praetorian’s grip on you tightened, but Acacius took a deliberate step forward, his sword lowering slightly. His voice was raw when he spoke again, barely louder than a whisper. “Please,” he said, his plea directed to the man holding you. “Let her go. I’ll give you whatever you want. My life for hers.”  

Time hung heavy in the air, each second dragging like chains across stone. The Praetorian hesitated, the indecision etched on his face like cracks in brittle armor, and the tension pressed down like the oppressive heat of a forge.  

In that fraught moment, a glimmer sparked in Acacius’s eyes—a fragile ember of hope, flickering against the darkness. You held onto it with every ounce of strength you had, even as the blade at your throat remained an unyielding promise of how swiftly that ember could be snuffed out.  

[starry-miki]

random winter present time!!! ♡ one of ur ocs gets a cup of hot cocoa!! 🍫☕ send this to 10 other people so their ocs can get some hot cocoa too ₊˚⊹✩´- ♥️♥️♥️

OMG HIII BLITHE!! I HOPE YOU ARE DOING WELL!! AND THANK YOU 😭💕

I think this is the first I actually ever posted my persona well I guess OC now but they my visual assistant now

it basically turned into a lucifer and Satan moment

Tagging @susujelly because I can’t send an ask lol

Edit 1: I don’t use my (now) OC as an OM MC, I generally like to keep (sheep) MC for neutrality and inclusivity in my art. 💕

[secretly-of-course]

hmmmm

[rainbow-bowtie]

i am going to fight god this fine monday morning because that fucker seems to have it out for me and it’s not even ten am

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: In The Serpent's Den.

Pairing: Yandere!Suguru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 4.7k.

TW: Non/Con, Hybrid AU, AFAB!Reader, Cobra!Suguru, Rabbit!Reader, Biting, Aphrodisiacs, Heat Cycles, Oviposition, Manipulation, Biting, Breeding Kinks, and Predator/Prey Dynamics.

“It’s time to come out, little rabbit.”

 His tone was sickly sweet, lulled into something saccharine and tempting, only slightly distorted by the uncommon shape of his tongue. Despite his melodic coaxing, you curled further into yourself – pulling your thighs flush to your chest and burying your knees in your face, doing your best not to breathe, not to cry, not to make a sound. The temptation to uncurl yourself entirely and run, run, run until you found somewhere small and dark and safe gnawed on the back of your mind, but it never would’ve worked. You were in Suguru’s enclosure, Suguru’s territory, and there was nowhere to run where he wouldn’t be able to follow.

“I’m losing my patience, little rabbit. If you come out now, I promise I’ll try to hold myself back.”

Why was he even looking for you? It’d been weeks since his eccentric, white-haired owner forced you into the sprawling greenhouse that made up Suguru’s enclosure, and he’d never paid you a second glance. You did your best to avoid him, to make sure you never crossed his path while he was prowling for a meal. You could count the number of times he’d acknowledged you on a single hand, and he’d never so much as lunged at you. You couldn’t imagine why he’d decided you’d make a good meal now, after weeks of relatively peaceful cohabitation. Maybe he’d gotten tired of keeping you around, of having to share his territory with another hybrid – one so far below him on the food chain. Maybe, this was just the first time he’d gotten hungry enough to hunt you down.

You heard branches shift, twigs break, and instantly, all of your thoughts (rational and otherwise) were replaced with a frantic, buzzing static. “You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Suguru went on, and his voice was too loud, too close. You’d tucked yourself into the densest patch of foliage you could find, but your white ears and cottony tail stood out like blood on snow against the vivid greens and blacks of the flora. Suddenly, trying to hide at all felt stupid. Rabbits weren’t supposed to hide. Rabbits were supposed to die and get eaten by the big, mean snakes who preyed on them. “I’m going to find you, and when I do, you’re only going to be sorry you made me wait as long as I have.”

You could hear the dull drag of scales moving over rough stone, the ebbing ‘hiss’ that formed a slight lisp at the end of each sentence. You raised your head just far enough to see a large, black shape move in front of you, and something buried deep inside of you cracked and spilled open.

Running wasn’t a choice – it was the only option. You were on your feet in a second, sprinting deeper into the greenhouse in another. The direction didn’t matter. As long as you got away from him, nothing else mattered.

Blindly, you vaulted over fallen branches and overgrown roots, rotting leaf litter threatening to steal your balance as you veered away from the beaten path and threw yourself into the tangled wilderness. If Suguru was chasing you, you couldn’t hear him – the world little more than a blur of color and your own racing pulse. You just needed to find somewhere better to hide, somewhere he’d forgotten. A tunnel, or a tree hollow, or a cave dark enough to hide your snowy pelt from prying eyes. You just needed to—

 Your trek came to an abrupt end as your collided with a pane of thick, emerald-tinted glass and were sent crashing to the ground. It took you a second to process what you’d run into – the wall of the greenhouse, the edge of Suguru’s enclosure – and another to remember that you weren’t in the wilderness, anymore, that you wouldn’t find a tunnel or a cave or anywhere else to hide that hadn’t been created deliberately to trick animals like you into to think they were safe. You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so desperate. You might’ve gone looking for Suguru yourself, if you hadn’t been too scared to remember what it meant to be caged.

Fighting back tears, you started to scramble onto your feet, but it was already too late. There was no sound, no warning, just a sudden pressure against your back and an agonizing pain burrowed into the side of your throat. His fangs were planted in your neck before you could so much as scream, his strong tail wrapped around your legs and his arms crossed over your midriff, keeping your body locked against his as he pinned you to the ground. You expected his venom to burn, to be able to feel death as it flooded into your veins, but instead, there was only a slight numbing sensation around the point of insertion, a distant fog over your senses that might’ve just been your own fading adrenaline. If anything, you felt…

You felt warm.

Suguru took his time pulling away, his ribbon-like tongue flickering over the skin of your throat before he lifted his head. You weren’t facing him, one of your cheeks pressed into the dirt, but you could just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, make out the dark hair tucked behind his shoulders, the pitch-black scales littered over his face, his chest. You knew he was a snake, but you thought you might’ve heard his owner call him something else, once or twice. A ‘cobra’, maybe, but you’d never met a cobra before. You felt safer thinking of him as a snake.

He opened his mouth, but you were already babbling. Trying not to cry had been useless. Tears poured down your cheeks unabashedly, blurring your vision and making it that much harder to spit something coherent out. “P-please don’t eat me – I’m really small for a rabbit, and I promise I won’t taste very good, and I—”

“Quiet, little rabbit.” You’d been wrong, before. You didn’t feel warm, no, you felt hot – something deep inside of you beginning to smolder at the sound of his voice. Immediately, you shut your mouth, and he rewarded you with a raspy chuckle. “You thought I was going to… to eat you?” You nodded stiltedly, and he went on. “Ah, no wonder you were so afraid. And here I thought my timid little bunny just didn’t like me very much.”

“…’m sorry.” You must’ve run farther than you realized. A few minutes of sprinting shouldn’t have left you this breathless, this dazed. “You… You aren’t going to eat me?”

“No, bunny. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“But, you bit—”

“I gave you a present.” Another dry chuckle, his tongue flitting over the back of your neck. “Just a little something to make sure you wouldn’t be so shy. You should already be feeling better.”

You weren’t sure that you felt better, but you didn’t feel scared, either. A different feeling had taken the place of your fear – the sensation viscous and churning and prone sending pangs of dull, burning pain to the pit of your stomach. You had to make a conscious effort to move your lips, and even then, it was hard to get any sound past your suddenly dry throat. Suguru waited patiently, seemingly more than happy to watch you stumble over your own tongue. “It’s really warm,” you managed, eventually. “I think I might be… tired?”

“Oh, of course. I forgot how easy it is for prey animals to wear themselves out. I’ll take you back to my nest, where you’ll be able to rest safely.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded eagerly. Safe. You wanted to be safe. You couldn’t remember what you needed to be safe from anymore, though.

He uncurled, but didn’t pull away from you. Rather, your smaller body was pulled against his broad chest as he took you in his arms and carried you through the greenhouse. His destination was a raised loft – set above the wild foliage of his enclosure, accessible only by a sparsely wrung ladder you never would’ve had a hope of climbing on your own. His nest wasn’t at all like a rabbit’s nest, either. Rather than a deep, dark tunnel padded with fur and leaves, he’d taken you to a mess of tangled roots and woven blankets, all piled onto one another to form a box-like bed. Your form, limper than you would’ve liked it to be, was laid on a relatively soft patch, and Suguru positioned himself above you; upper body supported by his forearms, his never-ending tail taking up whatever space you left unoccupied. You wanted to sleep, to do what he said you should, but he was still touching you – dragging a single, clawed finger down your chest and over your midriff, only pausing at your waist to draw slow, swirling patterns into your hip. “My venom has a unique side-effect, you know,” he muttered, his voice low and soothing, the tapered tip of his tail lashing from side to side as he spoke. “A full dose would be fatal. It’d be fast, too – a few seconds of screaming, a few seconds of twitching, and then—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—dead, just like that. It’s a little anti-climactic, to be honest.”

Something deep inside of you began to throb. You shrunk into yourself, trying to relieve the pulsing ache, but Suguru mistook your agony for fear. “In controlled portions,” he continued, splaying his open palm over your hip. “The symptoms are much more pronounced. Humans tend to get all feverish and clumsy, but hybrids—”

Again, he paused. His hand drifted lower – first to your thigh, then your cunt. You didn’t realize you were dripping until his cold fingertips skirted over your slit, gathering up the slick already staining the inside of your thighs.

“Hybrids go into heat.”

A cold wave of dread washed over you, and Suguru’s smile widened.

“…heat?”

“Heat, little rabbit.”

His hand lingered on your pussy, two of his massive fingers splitting apart your lips and making room for his tongue to lap gingerly over your entrance. The sensation was strange – not good and not bad, a little ticklish – but your hips bucked as it flickered over your clit. You knew better than to get so close to a snake’s mouth, but you couldn’t seem to move, to think about anything but getting closer, closer to anything that could touch and poke and lick you. “Is heat—” You started, only to be cut off by a cracked whimper as the throbbing in your core intensified. “Is it supposed to hurt?”

“Only for a while.” His deep voice reverberated against your cunt, and you couldn’t stop yourself; attempting to rock your hips against his mouth with a high-pitched whine. It was embarrassing to be so needy, so desperate, but Suguru didn’t seem to mind, only ghosting his lips over the inside of your thigh as he pushed you back down. “But, you’ll need a mate to help you through it. Do you want a mate?”

“Y-Yes! Mate!” You’d never felt this empty, before. It was a little like hunger, but not as jagged, not as desolate. It was more of an absence than anything more tangible; a total and complete vacancy that had to be filled. You tried to roll onto your stomach, to scramble onto your hands and knees and present yourself, but Suguru held you in place with minimal effort. Your protest came in the form of a drawn-out whine, a waving sound Suguru mocked with a low coo and an airy laugh. “Please, please, it hurts, Suguru, I can’t— I need—”

“You need cock,” he finished, his tone one of pure, undeniable satisfaction. With a sigh, he picked himself up, straightening his back and towering above you. You felt saliva pool at the bottom of your mouth as the junction between his upper body and his tail came into view – pale skin slowly giving way to ebony scales, the sculpted muscle of his chest meeting the plated armor below his hips. His hand fell away from you, but you couldn’t mourn the loss of contact, not when your attention was so fixated on the thin, almost invisible slit just below his pubic bone. His fingertips slipped shallowly inside of it, and his gaze shifted back to you. “Come, little bunny. I think you’ve earned another treat.”

The encouragement was appreciated, but unnecessary. You were already crawling towards him, your limbs uncooperative and your movements jolting but your resolve absolute. There was still a throbbing emptiness inside of you, getting worse and more demanding with each neglectful second, but all you could think about was settling onto your knees in front of Suguru and drooling at the sight of his fluttering slit. You weren’t sure what to do, whether to use your hands or your mouth, but Suguru didn’t leave much time for indecision. His free hand found its way to the back of your head, nudging you forward until your mouth was pressed against his slit, just starting to leak thick trails of translucent slick over his dark scales. Your tongue darted past your lips hesitantly, at first, but your trepidation didn’t last very long. It couldn’t, not when you had a hollow pit inside of you still begging to be filled.

Suguru’s fingers carded through your hair as you lapped and sucked at his slit. The taste was mildly acidic, but surprisingly sweet – your eyes quickly falling shut as you sank into a pattern of wet sounds and strange textures and point claws grazing over your scalp, scratching at your ears. Throaty moans (the loudest noise you would ever hear Suguru make, in hindsight) and mumbled praise trickled past his lips as you worked, letting you know that he liked the way you were curling your tongue, that the spongy spot you could just barely reach inside of him was particularly sensitive. It wasn’t long before a mix of your saliva and his arousal dripped past the corners of your mouth, before the end of his tail was lashing violently within the confines of his nest. Maybe Suguru was in heat, too. You hoped he was. You didn’t want to be the only one in so much pain.

You felt the tapered tip of something smooth and stiff against your tongue, and Suguru buckled forward, a ragged gasp tearing past his lips as he took your head in both hands and pressed you flush against his abdomen. Confused and panicked, you tried to pull away, but his grip was iron-clad and it was all you could do to whimper, to sit there helplessly while something filled your mouth – hard and ridged and hot enough to burn. Cock, the pulsing in your core filled in, but it couldn’t be. Suguru had made it sound like something you needed, something you were supposed to want, but you didn’t like the way the blunt head prodded at the back of your throat, the way the ridged underside ground against your tongue. For the first time since he’d caught you, your instincts agreed with your better judgement, both urging you to get away, to run, to put distance between yourself and this newfound threat.

Your pussy, though, couldn’t seem to do anything but chant mate, mate, mate.

You could feel something else, too – not in your mouth, but pressing into your chin, your throat. Reflexively, your hands shot up, wrapping around the thick intruder, and this time, Suguru let go of you entirely, biting back a half-choked groan as he pushed you away, leaving you sprawled out and alone in the center of his nest. The hollowness inside of you was nearly unbearable, and rubbing your thighs together only seemed to make it worse. You tried to look to Suguru, to ask him to do something, but instead, your eyes caught on the long, pale appendage pressed into his lower stomach. His cock. Or, his cocks, you guessed.

You hadn’t expected there to be two of them.

You hadn’t expected them to be so big, either. Even at a distance, it was clear they weren’t meant for a rabbit. Just one would’ve been more than you could handle – as long as your forearm, as thick as your wrist, the end tapered to a steep point but the base absolutely massive before they disappeared into his slit. The color was strange, too – the tip flushed a dull pink while the base was nearly as dark as his scales, creating an ombre that might’ve been pretty, if you weren’t so terrified. You couldn’t see any veins, but both were sculpted with pronounced, perfectly spaced ridges. You couldn’t imagine having something like that inside of you, but you couldn’t imagine not having anything inside of you, either.

You couldn’t be sure how long you spent staring up at him, trying to wrap your head around his size, trying to decide if you’d rather be torn apart by his cock or your own increasingly demanding needs. In the end, it wasn’t really your choice to make. His eyes darted from your clenched thighs to your heaving chest to yours, wide and watery, and a grin found its way back to his lips. For some reason, his smile wasn’t as comforting as it’d been, the first time you saw it. “I’m sorry, little rabbit. Did I startle you?” The tenderness in his voice was almost cloying. You didn’t move, didn’t respond, but he didn’t seem to need you to. “I didn’t mean to. Why don’t you spread your legs nice n’ wide for me, and I’ll make it up to you?”

Your gaze fell back to his cocks. One of his fists had wrapped around both, pumping idly while he stood above you. “Are those supposed to…?” You trailed off, shrinking into yourself. Suguru hummed, and you took it as confirmation. “But you’ll only use one, right? I don’t think I can— I mean, it won’t fit if you—”

“Really? I could’ve sworn you were begging to be fucked properly just a few minutes ago.” You stiffened, but he only laughed. “Fine, fine. If that’s what you think you want, I’ll only use one.”

You didn’t think you could trust him, but you could feel yourself getting hot, again, a haze forming over your mind. You could leave when he was finished, you figured, even if you weren’t entirely sure how to get out of his nest, or where to go once you’d escaped back into the greenhouse. After you got over your— your heat.

Hesitantly, you started to listen to the negging mantra still playing in the back of your mind, to obey the near-deafening voice in the back of your head urging you to get on your hands and knees and make him fuck you, but Suguru must’ve decided you weren’t moving fast enough. His tail shifted underneath you, a thick coil catching your side and leaving you bent over one of the thicker lengths, your stomach pressed into his cool scales and your feet barely able to reach the tangled roots of his nest. You scrambled for purchase, but Suguru was there to steady you – his hands finding your hips, his cocks pressing into your ass. The calloused pads of his fingertips pressed into your waist as he aligned one of his cocks – the upper one, you thought, just a little thicker than its twin – with your entrance. He was kind enough to give you a long, slow second to breathe before his hips rutted forward and he inside of you.

Immediately, it felt wrong.

You’d been right when you decided he was too big for you. He was only half-sheathed, and yet, the tip of his cock pressed into the floor of your cervix, the head of his cock alone enough to stretch your pussy as far as it could go. Thankfully, he didn’t try to force himself deeper, but feeling the smooth ridges of rub against the walls of your pussy as he pulled back wasn’t much better. Still, your cunt clenched around him eagerly, doing its best to suck him in despite your physical limitations. Suguru, of course, seemed more than happy to indulge you. His thrusts were slow and lethargic, as gentle as they could’ve been but still forceful enough to leave you pinned to the curve of his tail. You weren’t in control of your body, anymore. As he rolled his hips against your ass, you ground back against him, your greedy cunt never warm enough, never wet enough, never full enough. You tried to dig your blunt claws into his tail, to ground yourself, but it was a futile effort; a limping dear attempting to evade a wolf who’d already tasted its blood. Suguru’s only response was a stifled groan, a new roughness to the way he fucked into you. You felt his chest against your back as he bent at the waist, draping himself over you, his dark hair falling from his shoulder and replacing chunks of your vision with a curtain of thick, endless black. It didn’t matter. A fresh wave of tears would’ve left you just as helpless, not that Suguru seemed to mind the way you sniffled and sobbed between moans.

“They say— fuck, you know what they say about rabbits, don’t you, bunny?” His voice was barely audible, but it seemed to echo on and on and on in your overly sensitive ears. His cock ground against something softened and vulnerable inside of you and your back arched, your pussy clenching impossibly tighter around him. “That’s it,” Suguru encouraged, as you tried to pry yourself away from his freezing tail and chase the gentle warmth of his chest. “They say bunnies make the best sluts. Knock them up once, and they’ll never stop begging for it.”

Kits. A strong mate. A safe nest. The thought alone had you crying out for nothing, your convulsions growing that much more erratic, and Suguru chuckled in-turn. “Like that? Want me to make you into my little mate-whore?”

“Want it, please, w-want it so bad.” It was all you could do to force yourself to speak, to spit something out through the daze of lust and exhaustion and total, unrelenting fullness. You’d never been more sure of anything than you were in that moment, never knew something as deeply as you knew that you wanted Suguru’s kits inside of you. “Please, wanna be you mate, wanna—Suguru—!”

One more thrust, one more scape of his sleek scales against your clit, and you were coming undone around his cock in jolting, erratic convulsions. Suguru let out a ragged grunt and straightened his back, but the distance was short-lived. Strong arms snaked under your knees, spreading your legs and hauling you up to his height. Your back remained pressed against his chest as he pulled out of you entirely and slammed back in. Even through the overstimulation, the wrongness hit you immediately. His cock was too big, too thick, and—

And he was inside of you.

Completely inside of you.

You forced yourself to open your eyes, letting your head fall forward limply. The shock was minimal, but still devastating – both of Suguru’s cocks buried inside of you to their pitch-black bases, their outlines just barely visible against the plush flesh of your lower stomach. “You—You promised you wouldn’t—”

His face was buried in the dip of your shoulder, his lips parted as panted against you. You felt his teeth catch on your skin before sinking into you, had time to process the pure heat of his venom seeping into your veins. Instantly, anything you might’ve said died on your tongue, your mind going utterly, entirely blank save for a single thought: mate.

Your mouth fell open, your thighs spreading that much farther. Suguru pressed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the injection site, then pulled away, grinning wildly. “A few drops, and you’ll want everything I have to give you,” he muttered. “That’s better, isn’t it, bunny?”

Much better. You could feel something swelling at the base of his cock, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge anything other than the utter bliss as a small, round shape was milked up the length of his cock and emptied into your core. Kits, you thought, and did your best to settle onto his twin cocks, to hold still as another egg was forced through your tight pussy. You stopped trying to count after the fourth – giving in completely to the shuddering, splintering euphoria every new member of your little family brought you. By the time the final egg was safe and snug inside of you, you were limp, twitching, and so full, it was hard to imagine ever feeling empty again.

As the last aftershocks started to fade, Suguru sucked in a stilted gasp and pulled you flush against his chest. You felt his second cock twitch once, then twice inside of you before something warm and thick flooded into your pussy. You whined miserably as he pulled out of you, but he didn’t stay gone for very long. Your pliable body was turned around in his arms, his cocks slid back into your leaking cunt as he carefully lowered himself onto the floor of his nest – your body laid on top of his. You strung your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his chest, closing your eyes and giving in to your well-earned exhaustion.

You lasted just long enough to hear him mutter something about mates and clutches before your consciousness faded entirely and your mind went mercifully, blissfully silent.

~

Hours later, you woke up to the sound of a low, long whistle. “Really did a number on the poor thing, huh, Suguru?”

It took you a second to blink your eyes open, to raise your head and glance toward the man standing at the top of the ladder that led to Suguru’s nest, and another to recognize him as Suguru’s owner. His white hair was in a state of disarray, his eyes hidden behind circles of tinted glass, and for some reason, he was looking at you. You shrunk further into Suguru, but he only laughed – the noise loud and piercing to your foggy senses.

Suguru’s cocks were no longer inside of you, the flushed tips just barely visible at the base of his slit. You were still on his chest, and his arms were wrapped around your waist, his hold loose but possessive. There was a small bump over your lower stomach, and you weren’t sure whether to grimace or beam at the feeling of Suguru’s eggs shifting inside of you with every little movement. He was already awake – had been for some time, judging by the unimpressed scowl pressed into his lips. Something sharp and icy lodged itself into your chest, but his glare was directed towards his owner, not you, and the very tip of his tail curled around your ankle protectively as his owner stepped into his nest.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to walk into a serpent’s den?”

“I don’t think it counts if I own the den.” He straddled the bulk of Suguru’s tail, then gestured to you. “Turn the pretty baby around. I wanna see the damage.”

You shook your head vehemently, clinging to Suguru’s neck, but his own response was an exasperated sigh, a fleeting hiss to your cheek as he flipped you over; leaving you slayed across his chest and exposed to his owner’s prying gaze. “Five minutes,” he said, as his owner shrugged the waistband of his pants down just far enough to free his cock, already half-hard, already enough to send a bolt of pure dread from your heart to the pit of your stomach. “I don’t want your scent on my mate.”

You opened your mouth, ready to whine that you were sore, that you were tired, that you didn’t want anyone but Suguru and your kits inside of you, but the words withered into nothing on your tongue as his owner eased himself into your dripping pussy, as Suguru caught you by the chin and pulled you into a shallow, lingering kiss – the points of his fangs just barely scraping over your bottom lip. Looking back on it, it had been silly to ever worry that he’d eat you.

You should’ve been worried that he wouldn’t.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Teach Me How To Play Coach Miller

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Austin Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 3,275 Summary: You're home alone, relishing a lazy day when your hot neighbor knocks on your door. Seems his TV is out and he really wants to watch the Rangers game. You know nothing about baseball... maybe he can teach you a thing or two? Warnings: smut, porn with very little plot, age gap (reader's college aged, Joel's in his 30's), oral (f & m receiving), unprotected p in v, riding, baseball terms, Joel's a filthy liar but it benefits all of us, mentions of voyeurism and masturbation, big balls Joel Miller in gray sweatpants, no use of y/n, not beta read.

Masterlist

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It’s another famous hot September afternoon in Texas. Too damn hot to do anything besides walk outside, roll your eyes at the sweltering temperature, turn around and walk back inside. The thick humidity and overbearing heat makes your skin slick and clothing stick in all the wrong places– or maybe the right places– it depends on who’s looking. 

A ring of the doorbell interrupts your lazy day movie marathon. The house is yours for the weekend, your roommates are all gone for a festival and your coursework is all done, so naturally you’re laid on the couch taking a reprieve from the overbearing temperature.

Another ring.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you grumble. 

You open the door, your knees buckling at your bad luck.

GOD DAMNIT. OF COURSE IT’S JOEL MILLER. *THE* JOEL MILLER. The hot DILF you and your roomies all lust after. The broad, golden skinned GOD of a man that you all argue over who’s going to get to bed one day. 

“Joel? H-hey,” you say, attempting to hide your embarrassment over how you look. It’s 4 PM and you’re still wearing what you woke up in… an oversized Rangers shirt of your ex-boyfriend’s over a pair of lace boyshorts… it’s too freakin’ hot for actual clothes. 

“Afternoon–uh–so my cable box just stopped working and it’s the clenching game for the playoffs,” he nervously huffs, putting a hand to the back of his neck. “I know it’s crazy to ask, but can I watch the game on your TV?” He lifts a six pack of beer enticingly, “I brought this as payment.”

“Oh,” your eyes widen in surprise. Joel Miller… on your couch? Yes! Joel Miller on your couch! You open the door wider and step aside to let him in. “Of course, make yourself at home.” 

He walks into your house… this is a dream come true, he’s in GRAY SWEATPANTS and they hug his thick body perfectly. 

You take a precursory look around your living room, silently thanking yourself for picking up the house yesterday. Now the hunk of a neighbor you’ve touched yourself to while watching him mow his lawn is closer to you than he’s ever been.

You quickly stroll over to the coffee table, picking up the remote and handing it to him. 

“Thanks for this, appreciate it sweetheart,” Joel says, sitting on the couch, taking up a whole cushion with his broad body. 

Ohhhh, sweetheart. His eyes darken at the sight of your breath hitching, before his eyes gaze lowers to your bare legs. 

“Yeah, o-of course,” you nod, feeling very underdressed with your handsome neighbor taking a seat on the couch you were just laid out on a few minutes ago. “I’ll go get an opener.”

Joel turns the game on and settles his back against the couch cushions, “Thanks sweetheart.” 

__

The ceiling fan chains clang against one another, it only does this on high, it drives you crazy but the soft breeze it sends down is worth the annoyance. Your skin’s too overheated sitting only a couch cushion’s length away from Joel. Your foot nervously taps against the carpet while you try to focus on the book you’re reading. You’re overwhelmed by his presence, hearing his lips form around the beer bottle and taking a swig, the movement of his body against the couch cushions, the smell of wood and coffee he’s brought into the house. You sigh, turning your attention to the game, maybe today’s the day you’ll learn about America’s pastime. 

“Why is it called a shortstop? Do they have to be short?” You ask putting your book down. 

“No,” Joel chuckles, “s’just what the position is called.” 

“Ah, and every team has one?”

“Yes,” he shakes his head, “what exactly do you know about this game, sweetheart?”

“Um, I know I like their tight pants.” 

“Oh really?” Joel looks over at you, crooking his eyebrow up. 

“Yep, and the guy throwing the ball is really tall and cute.”

“That’s called a pitcher sweetheart,” he shakes his head at your ignorance.

“And he throws to the…” your finger taps your cheek while you mock contemplation, “catcher?” 

“That’s right,” he nods, his voice dropping an octave. “What else do you know?”

“I know there’s bases and home runs, adorable mascots and Cracker Jacks.”  

“What bases?”

“Hmm. First base, second base, third base, and home.”

“Good girl,” he grins, “you’re a smart girl.”

“I know I am,” you smugly smile at him. “First base is kissing. Second base is above the waist, third base is bel—“

Joel’s laugh cuts you off. “Is that right? Seems you know all about baseball, you’ve… ‘played baseball’ before?” 

“Mm,” you lean towards him, “I like playing baseball… I just haven’t in a few months… you know besides practicing with myself.”

He shakes his head, a devilish smirk lights his face as he angles his body towards you. “You practice a lot?”

“Yeah, especially when my hot neighbor is outside mowing his lawn and he gets all sweaty. My bedroom window looks right out on his lawn.” Joel’s eyes widen at the realization that you’re talking about him. “Sometimes he lifts the hem of his shirt and wipes his brow, I get to see a peek of his stomach, it’s super hot.”

“Funny,” he puts his beer bottle down and licks his lips. “I have a hot neighbor too. I’ve, uh, ‘practiced’ before while thinking about how good she looks running in her tight shorts and tiny tank top.” 

Your core begins to pulse at his words, desire lights inside your body. Joel Miller has noticed you *and* gets off to the thought of you?! And now, he’s on your couch, sending you a lascivious look. Let’s ball. 

“Can I play?” you ask, head tilted with a smirk before scooting closer to him.

“Yeah?” his eyebrows crook up. “You want to play with an old man like me?” 

You nod. “Put me in coach.”

“Batter up baby,” he growls, grabbing and lifting you to straddle his lap. You’re thankful for your measly lace panties, less layers between you and Joel’s dick. “You wanna show me first base?”

You gulp, pouty lips agape begging to be kissed by Joel Miller. “First base,” you nuzzle your nose against his, “is kissing.”

“Mm,” he nips at your bottom lip, “then kiss me, pretty girl.”

You pull away, angling your head to look at the TV. “But what about the game?”

“They’re losing by four,” he grabs your chin, turning your head back towards him. “Plus, I don’t think it’s possible to care about the game when a pretty girl like you is on my lap.”

Leaning forward, you plant a soft kiss and suck his plush bottom lip into your mouth. Your heart flutters inside your chest when his mouth opens inviting you to lick into it as he lifts the hem of your shirt. 

You swipe his hand away, “Not at second base yet.”

“Fuck,” he pants. “Been wanting to see you since you moved in last year.”

His confession rolls through your body, sending waves of want through your limbs. You want to rock your hips against him, you want to feel your bare skin against his, you want to feel him inside you, but you also love the game you’re playing and it’s not just every day your hot neighbor comes over to watch a ballgame and winds up with his tongue in your mouth.  

You deepen the kiss, moaning against his lips as your tongues collide and explore each other’s mouths. Raucous shouting of the announcers on the TV interrupts your makeout session.

“Mmph, will you look at that? Rangers just hit a grand slam ’n tied the game. You wanna celebrate now?” Joel grabs the hem of your shirt and angles his eyebrow up.

“Show me second base Joel.”

Your shirt is lifted and tossed aside, your nipples pebble under the cool fan air and Joel’s attention. He stares, eyes wide in astonishment as he takes your bare chest in. 

“Second base is above the waist stuff,” you direct. His large, calloused hands mold around the weight of your flesh. 

“Mm, knew you’d be soft,” he rasps in awe. His touch drives you crazy, just an hour ago, you were dozing off on the couch to Romy & Michelle’s High School Reunion, now Joel Miller is holding your tits in his hands. He rubs the tips of his thumbs back and forth across your nipples. “Can I use my mouth on you baby?” he asks, his gaze moving from your chest to your eyes pleadingly. 

“God yes,” you pant, rising up to bring your chest to his mouth. He clasps his lips around your nipple, sucking and pulling, swirling his tongue around the peak before letting it go with a pop. Your back arches, your weight settling firmer against him when he nips his way across your chest, taking your other breast into his mouth and suckling. Your hands snake underneath his shirt and run across the plush of his stomach petting your hands across the smattering of hair across his belly. 

Joel buries his face between your breasts, breathing you in and groaning against your skin, his hands grab your hips and push your body firmer against his half hard cock still clad in his sweatpants.

He’s fully dressed, your teensy pair of lace panties do very little to stop your cunt from dripping onto the light gray fabric of his sweatpants. Your hips begin to grind against the shape of him, begging for contact. He ruts his hips up to tap against your core pulling a moan from you. 

He snickers teasingly, “We goin’ to third base already baby?”

You whimper a measly yes, rocking yourself harder against him. Fuck the pace of game, it’s going to be a quick one. You’re so needy for him, you can’t believe this is happening with Joel “hot dad” Miller. Your roommates are never going to believe you. 

You reach for the hem of his shirt, bunching it up before he chucks it off and throws it across the couch. You lean back, eyes widening at the sight of him. Good LORD, he’s perfect. His skin glows in the late afternoon light beaming in from the front window. His shoulders and arms are toned from all of the manual labor you always watch him accomplish. Your hands roam his soft muscles, exploring the plains of his body. He’s the whole fucking package. He looks at you with a smug smirk while you take him in. 

You want to taste him and see if he tastes like the sweat and sunlight. Your lips find his collarbone, licking and sucking, tasting the slight salt of the sweat the heat leaves on everybody’s skin on days like today. Delectable.

His throat groans against your tongue, he shivers underneath you, you’ve never wanted someone so badly before. 

“Fuck me,” you plead against his skin, “please.”

“Not yet, not yet baby, we’re still at third, you’re still learning all about baseball. I need to enjoy a game as sweet as you,” he implores, sliding a hand between your legs and petting your soaked panties. “This all for me?” 

“Yesss,” you hiss, licking your way up through his scratchy beard to his mouth. 

You gasp against his lips when he slides a thick finger inside. He chuckles a deep breath against your mouth, “So fucking wet aren’t you pretty girl?” 

Your only answer is a garbled moan and a clench around his second finger that stretches you. 

His fingers languidly fuck you while his thumb teases soft circles against your clit, you’re writhing from his touch, breathing mews into the air. He licks into your mouth swallowing every shattered breath that escapes from your throat. So many nights you’ve fallen asleep to the thought of this moment laying alone in your bed, gazing out the window at the Miller household. What would Joel Miller’s overworked hands and plush mouth feel like against your body? Well, now you know, and it feels even better than you could have ever imagined.  

He licks his way down to your neck, asking “Can I taste you?” against your skin. 

“Yes,” you cry out. 

Joel lifts you with a grunt and lays you down against the couch cushions. He stands over you, running a hand across your body, mapping his way from your breasts down your stomach to the trim of your panties.

“You’re gorgeous,” he muses, his eyes turning black as he pulls your panties down, exposing your pussy to him. You spread your legs open encouraged by the possessiveness of his stare. He tosses your underwear behind him before settling on the couch between your legs with a deep growl. Your legs are lifted over his shoulders. “Fuck,” he sighs, planting a kiss against your thigh, “you’re so fucking hot. Let’s get to third base sweetheart.”

His eyes flutter shut at the first taste of you when he parts your folds with his tongue. Everything about Joel Miller is wide- his fingers, his shoulders, his chest. Right now, his wide tongue is driving you crazy as it swirls against your clit. He devours you, licking and laving all over your drooling pussy, drinking you down and savoring you like you’re his last meal. His eyes stay on your face the whole time, watching you fall apart against his mouth. Your fingers wrap around the dark waves of his hair pulling him in closer, hips undulating against his mouth getting yourself off on the feel of the bristle of his beard against your sensitive flesh. His tongue flattens and runs up and down the shape of you before he dips two fingers into your entrance and buries them knuckles deep. Your back curves at the overwhelming sensation of his tongue on your clit as your soaked walls clench around his thick fingers. 

“Mm, close,” you whimper while your feet thud repeatedly against his strong back. He nods against your core, dark brown eyes still focused on your face. Your heart races at the way he watches you under his thick eyebrows creased in concentration. Of course Joel Miller is good at eating pussy, he’s a hard worker. You wail his name out when you orgasm against his mouth, your body tightens as you flood his fingers and throb for him. He kisses your swollen clit gently, letting a deep moan and chuckle out while you spasm underneath him. 

Joel’s face glistens with you when he lifts his head up, “Welcome to third base.” 

“You haven’t gotten here yet,” you arch an eyebrow and lick your parted lips, still panting for air.

He kisses each thigh with a loud smack before getting up. 

He looms over your blissed out body on the couch and yanks down his pants and boxers, a gulp rolls down your throat at the sight of him. So fucking thick and engorged with a sweet drop of precum rolling down his shaft.

“Wow,” you gasp, rolling to your side to bring yourself eye level to his twitching cock. Your eyebrows rise in awe when he wraps his hand around himself and strokes.

“Yeah?” his voice smolders through you. 

“I’ve thought about what you looked like naked, and now that I see it… wow.” You can’t believe the confession just left your mouth.

“Funny,” he collects a drop of precum on his fingertip and rubs it against your bottom lip,” I thought the same thing.”

Your tongue darts out to taste him, salty, bitter, so fucking manly. You want to taste more of him. 

You bring your lips to the crown of his cock, kissing the tip and running your tongue along the length of his shaft. He gasps, leaning forward to rest his hands on the sofa back. 

“Fuck sweetheart, that’s good,” he drawls when you suck him into your mouth engulfing the thick length of him in the wet heat of your mouth. 

You cup the heft of his balls in your hand… thick cock, big balls, of course Joel Miller has big balls. 

“You’re good at this sweetheart, really fucking good,” he huffs, rubbing his thumb against your cheek as you hollow them and suck him to the back of your throat. 

Your eyes flutter up to watch Joel snarl down at you while his hips buck into your drooling mouth.

“Can’t keep lookin’ at me like that sweetheart, or else we’re not going to get to homebase.”

Your pussy clenches at his words, begging to be filled like your mouth. It’s as if Joel can read your mind, his hand lands in between your thighs and begins petting your aching cunt. 

“Feels like she needs to have my cock in her, doesn’t she?” he says, tapping his fingers against your entrance. “Think maybe we should get to homebase?”

He pulls his cock out of your mouth and lifts you off the couch into his arms, he’s so fucking strong. 

He leaves a searing kiss on your lips before settling on the couch, still holding you close to him. 

“You ready for homebase?” he asks, gazing into your eyes. 

“Put me in coach, I’m ready to play,” you smile, giddy at the anticipation of getting fucked by Joel Miller.

“Go ahead sweetheart, fuck me,” his drawl drips in arousal as you slowly sink yourself down on him, gasping at the feel of his thick cock stretching you. 

Your hips rock back and forth to adjust to the size of him spreading you open. 

“Knew you’d feel so good sweetheart, knew it as soon as I saw you,” he says, peppering kisses across your face and neck. “So pretty, so soft, feels so fucking good.”

Joel Miller always seemed too intimidating, too closed off, too attractive to ever be interested in a neighbor much too young for him, and yet here he is ignoring the baseball game he wanted to watch, instead burying his cock into your pussy.

You ride him, your pace turning more frenzied and desperate the more he chants your name.

The ticks of the fan chains clanging against one another accompanies the sound of your pussy bouncing up and down on his dick. Hips meeting hips, skin hitting skin, breath gasping breath, chain knocking chain. Your fingers wrap around his curls pulling his head up to kiss you. Your breaths puff against his, you can’t hide the blissed out smile that lights up your whole face as he pounds into you.

Your body begins to tingle and quiver when his cock hits the gushy spot that makes you see stars. 

“That’s it baby, that’s it,” Joel grits against your neck biting and sucking, marking you with his mouth and owning you with his cock. 

You scream a choked sob when your orgasm lights through you, your walls clutch Joel’s cock as you come undone. He grips you harder, pushing you into his chest and holding you as close as he can with his tense muscles as he lifts you and pulls out painting your pussy lips with his cum. You collapse against him, gasping for air against his sweaty skin, darting your tongue out to lick some of the sweet salt so you can always remember the taste of playing ball with Joel Miller. 

“Can I tell you something?” Joel asks, his voice radiates through your ear resting against his chest. 

“Hmm? Yeah,” you sigh.

“My TV still works,” he sheepishly says. You sit up at the shock of his words. “I just really wanted to watch the game with a pretty girl.” He sends you a sultry, guilty smirk that you cover with your lips. 

___ Tagging people who showed interest in my WIP a couple weeks ago for this. Along with my camp coven friends who helped.

@luxurychristmaspudding, @sizzlingcloudmentality, @sawymredfox, @magpiepills, @yxtkiwiyxt

@beefrobeefcal, @ace-turned-confused, @yopossum, @mothandpidgeon, @bitchesuntitled

@maggiemayhemnj, @jennaispunk, @timelordfreya

[flickering-chandelier]

Was Any Of It True?

Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader

Summary: Modern/College AU! Az’s on-again-off-again girlfriend gives Azriel a proposition: make the new bookworm fall in love with him, then break her heart, in exchange for anything he wants. He agrees, but things get complicated when he falls for Reader for real.

Based on this request! 🩷

✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨

Warnings: angst, sexual language?, swearing, Azriel & friends being assholes

Word Count: 10.2k   oh lord sorry besties I couldn’t shut my little brain off

“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”

“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”

Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”

Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”

He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”

“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”

“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore. 

No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.

He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin. 

Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. 

Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”

She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”

Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.

“I have a proposition for you.”

He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”

“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.

“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.

Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?” 

Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.

He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”

She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her. 

“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”

“Just hear me out!”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.

“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.

He looked pointedly at her. “And?”

“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.

“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.

Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”

Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”

She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.

He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.

Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.

“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.

“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.

To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”

He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”

“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.

“What?” Azriel asked.

“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”

He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”

She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked. 

He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”

Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”

---

You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…

Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --

“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice. 

You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous. 

His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves. 

All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.

“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.

“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.

He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”

“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked. 

“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”

His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”

“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.

“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”

You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”

He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”

A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”

He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously. 

You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”

You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”

Rolling your eyes, you told him.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”

“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”

“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.

“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.

Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”

You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”

He shrugged casually. “I like you.”

“You don't know me!”

“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”

You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”

He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”

“What date?” You blanched.

He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”

You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was. 

As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”

For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.” 

His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Can't wait.”

You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text. 

Az: Done studying yet?

It was an effort to bite down your smile. 

You: Taking a break for dinner. 

It was less than a minute before he responded. 

Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?

You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.

You: A little cliche, don’t you think?

Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?

You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?

Az: We’re playing tennis?

You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.

Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.

You: Shut up.

Az: See you tomorrow ;)

You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.

The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?

Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere. 

He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.” 

You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.

“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in. 

“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”

You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”

He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”

“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased. 

His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”

You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”

Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.

“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.

You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago. 

Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green. 

You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”

“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”

He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”

You nodded, not sure where to go from here.

Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high. 

“You are. I can tell.”

You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.

“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled. 

“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed. 

So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing. 

“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment. 

“Okay,” you breathed. 

He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club. 

“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady. 

His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”

You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.

“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured. 

You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”

“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”

That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away. 

The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”

He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole. 

He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around. 

You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”

“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked. 

His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”

He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”

You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.

He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”

You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”

Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”

Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.

“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.

His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.

“I think so, too,” you breathed.

His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.

You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.

When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.

He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.

Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it. 

He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you. 

When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.

You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”

Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”

“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.

You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.

A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.

You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.

So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.

---

Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.

And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.

He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.

He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.

Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished. 

With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.

So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.

This would be a mess.

If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.

He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back. 

He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.

“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”

Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”

You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”

He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that. 

Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”

You sighed, shifting on your feet. 

“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”

You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.

He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.

Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.

When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.

“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.

He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.

He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.

Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.

When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.

“Have fun?” He smirked.

“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless. 

“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.

You laughed, glancing behind him at the house. 

He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.

You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly. 

His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him. 

“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.

“Sure,” you said.

He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him. 

Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side. 

You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”

He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear. 

You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple. 

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.

“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned. 

You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”

Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”

He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood. 

Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap. 

“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you. 

Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”

“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.

He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”

“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.

He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”

Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”

Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”

Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”

Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside. 

Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”

He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”

You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest. 

It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.

After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you. 

“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.

“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now. 

He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”

You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked. 

“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again. 

Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”

“Yeah?” he said, surprised.

You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”

He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”

You beamed, your whole face lighting up. 

Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now. 

The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.

He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red. 

Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw. 

He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you. 

Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

You nodded, your eyes still frantic. 

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her. 

When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” 

“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”

“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.

“I’m okay,” you said quietly. 

He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”

He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.

Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.

The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…

Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.

---

“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.

Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…

You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”

For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”

You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”

“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.

He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.” 

Before you could even respond, he was out the door. 

You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.

Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive. 

In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day. 

You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him. 

He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave. 

So, soon. You would tell him soon.

--- 

Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.

He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show. 

And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this. 

And he knew. He loved you.

This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true. 

And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil. 

He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester. 

But now his time was up. 

He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it. 

Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred. 

Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”

She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”

Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”

Azriel blinked. 

Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”

He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.

She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”

Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”

A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.

“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one. 

He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.

---

The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard. 

You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did. 

Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.

You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.

A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you. 

You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection. 

“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.

His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”

Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours. 

Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice. 

Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket. 

Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”

Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next. 

Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?

“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic. 

You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.

They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking. 

You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out -- 

It was all fake. All of it. 

Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out. 

When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”

“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”

“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him. 

“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you. 

“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.

“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels. 

You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?” 

“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.

You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”

It didn’t matter. But you had to know.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”

You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away. 

Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”

“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking. 

He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”

You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice. 

Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”

Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”

He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”

Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going. 

Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.

You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands. 

You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury. 

Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind your back. You felt nauseous. 

How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.

I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that. 

I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.

I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?

Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door. 

You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”

“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”

You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”

Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.” 

His face fell. “I love you.”

Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”

He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”

Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”

Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it. 

You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”

His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.

“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.

“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”

He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”

You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway. 

Without another word, you shut the door.

Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects. 

It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing. 

By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.

Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered. 

You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt. 

A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer. 

Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️

Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?

Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.

Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.

“Hi,” you said softly. 

He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”

“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad. 

A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.

“I miss you,” he said quietly. 

You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted. 

Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured. 

“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. “I need time.”

He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”

You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”

“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”

“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.

---

You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had. 

For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement. 

It may have been slightly unhealthy.

You believed that what you and Azriel had was real. You believed that he did love you. And you couldn’t deny that you loved him. That maybe you always would. 

Was it worth it to deny yourself the person who had made you so happy? Who had taught you new things, who had helped you out of your comfort zone?

As September grew closer, you still weren’t sure. 

 ---

Azriel got more and more anxious as the summer came to a close. It had been torture to not contact you at all, but he knew he was in no position to be asking you for anything, so he did as you asked. 

The hurt on your face those months ago was still a clear image in his mind that haunted his nightmares. He would never forgive himself for hurting you. 

Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining what would happen when he saw you again. Would you give him another chance? You would have to be a saint to even contemplate that. But then again, you were the best person he had ever known. If anyone would be able to forgive, it would be you.

Scowling, he stomped that shred of hope down. He couldn’t go into this having any expectations. 

Soon, he would know.

---

It was bittersweet coming back to school. Academia was where you thrived. You felt right at home in the library, stacks of papers all around you. 

And you used to feel at home with Azriel. 

You sighed at the thought. The first day of classes was tomorrow. You had told Azriel not to contact you until school started back up again, and knowing him, he would take that seriously. 

Deep down, you knew what you wanted to do. It terrified you, though. 

Sure enough, the next morning, you had a text from him:

Hey, bookworm. Hope your first day of classes goes well. 

The slightest smile spread across your lips. You knew he was probably dying to ask when he could see you, but was trying to keep it light. Leave the ball in your court.

For the first time since everything, you texted him back.

Thanks, Az. Yours, too. 

He opened it immediately. After a moment, you willed yourself to send another:

Wanna meet up at the tennis courts tonight? 

His reply came at lightning speed:

7?

Reigning in your smile, you replied:

7.

You couldn’t remember ever being this nervous as you walked to the tennis courts. There were a few people playing, so you sat underneath a tree nearby, willing your legs to stop shaking. 

Right on time, a familiar motorcycle turned into the parking lot. He spotted you immediately, striding over to you with unsure steps. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he said quietly. 

You looked up at him, your heart racing at the familiarity you felt. “Hi,” you said, and after the briefest hesitation, you patted the grass next to you. You weren’t sure you would be able to stand. 

Immediately, he plopped down across from you, his knees only inches from yours as he faced you. 

His eyes were locked on yours. “How was your summer?” he said, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Okay,” you said. “How was yours?”

“Okay,” he said quietly. 

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, here’s the thing. I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking. And I do love you, Az.”

You paused, not sure how to word what you were feeling. 

“But?” Azriel said, his voice dripping with trepidation, his eyes guarded.

“But it’s going to take some time before I can trust you again.”

Azriel swallowed, his eyes never wavering from yours. 

He seemed like he was waiting for you to continue before he said anything, so you added, quietly, “I am willing to try, though. To give us another chance.”

The tautness in his body released, relief flooding his features. “Really?” he croaked, tears swimming in his eyes. 

You could only nod before he launched towards you, knocking you on your back, before he threaded his fingers through your hair, kissing you deeply. 

You laughed, as his other hand came up to cup your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he said against your lips.

Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed into his kiss. “I know, Az. I know.”

“I love you,” he murmured, moving to kiss down your neck.

“I love you, too.”

“I missed you so much,” he groaned before kissing your lips again.

You giggled. “I missed you, too.”

He finally stopped kissing you, settling his elbows on either side of your head, leaning his forehead against yours. “Thank you. For giving me another chance.”

Smiling, you kissed him swiftly on the lips. “Don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms, going over your respective summers. 

Eventually, Azriel propped himself on an elbow, gazing at you with all the love in the world.

“What?” you asked. 

He grinned. “You wanna go mini golfing, bookworm?”

You couldn’t help but return his smile. “Only if I can help you again.”

Azriel leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “It’s a deal.”

A/N: wanna see more of these two?? Check out part 2!

@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch

[moonstonejpg]

first christmas (k. bakugou x reader)

cw: tooth-rotting fluff!!!!

i am having a rough mental health day so here’s some christmas bakugo fluff

“mina, if you sing that song one more time I swear to god I’m going to—“

“kats!” you hiss, tugging his sleeve.

he harrumphs. “what? it’s annoying me.”

kirishima laughs from the kitchen, pointing at katsuki, who is standing in front of the christmas tree with his arms crossed.

“everything annoys you.”

katsuki rolls his eyes, and you can’t help but let out a small giggle as you watch him. he’s wearing a santa hat (courtesy of ochako), and yet he still has his signature scowl on his face.

his eyes snap to you upon hearing your giggle, and the corners of his lips tip up in a small smile. he reaches a hesitant arm around you, plucking your now empty glass from your hand.

“do you want more?” he asks quietly, eyes soft as he gazes as you.

you nod, smiling softly at him.

he then goes into the kitchen, smacking kirishima on the side of his head as he passes him.

“i don’t know how you did it.” a voice says next to you. you turn, seeing mina leaning over the couch where you’re seated, chin resting on the backing of the couch.

“did what?”

she sighs happily, reaching out to twist one of your curls around her finger.

“katsuki’s never…well, you know how he is. i don’t think he’s ever considered that another person could love him, and then you found him. and i don’t think i can ever thank you enough for showing him that he deserves to be loved.”

“I—he means the world to me.” you say quietly.

mina grins, then lets go of your hair, standing as you turn your eyes to the blonde who was making his way back over to you. he hands you your drink before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “wanna go somewhere a little quieter?”

you nod, heart thudding as you stand and follow him to the dining room where towers of cookie boxes are stacked, a result of a baking contest gone awry a few nights ago (izuku won, of course).

katsuki stands there for a few seconds, eyes shifting around the room nervously.

“i uh. i got you a gift.” he says quietly, avoiding eye contact as he slips a small white box from his back pocket.

you take it from him, eyeing the badly wrapped box with amusement.

“y—you got this for me?” you breathe.

he nods, a hand coming up to scratch his neck, heat flooding to his cheeks as he brings his eyes up to yours. you carefully unwrap the gift, taking the top of the box off and gasping at what lays beneath.

“katsuki, this is beautiful.” you say in awe, gently pushing back the wrapping and taking the rose gold necklace out. there was a small heart on the thin chain, and you gingerly touch it, eyes filling with tears.

“i know i’m not, like, the best at all of this stuff. but i promise i’m trying! i just—well, you deserve so much, and—“

“oh kats,” you whisper, stepping closer to him and cupping his jaw with one hand, necklace dangling in the other. “i love you so much, my sweet boy.”

a big beautiful grin splits his face, his eyes shining as he dips his forehead to rest on your own. “i love you too, my beautiful girl.”

[taegimood]

— yeonjun overstimming himself to make you cum ♡

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1k warnings: smut, overstimulation (m receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (m receiving), dirty talk, use of pet names (baby, good girl), tummy bulge, pussydrunk soft dom bf!jun~

a/n - i’ve had this idea for a while now, lots of people seemed to like my other jun thought so here’s another one ♡ my inbox is open, send in requests for any member~!

──────────────────────

your legs tremble with every steady thrust to your cunt that yeonjun delivers, the room hot with moans and labored breaths.

the sight above you is heavenly; his dark hair hanging over his eyes, eyes that are boring into yours as he keeps his lips so tantalizingly close — so close, but just far enough to make you beg for it.

you whine as you chase him into a kiss. moaning into each other’s mouths as his skin slaps against yours, you squeeze your legs tighter around his waist and grip the toned arms that hold him up on either side of you as his pace begins to quicken. “baby..”

you can tell he’s close by the breathlessness in his voice and the way his eyes screw shut, lip tugging between his teeth to stop the moans that threaten to spill.

he’s fucking into you so deliciously. your back arches as the tip of his cock hits particularly deep; with a strangled gasp, your hips buck up into his and the way your pussy clenches around him has yeonjun seeing stars.

“baby, i’m- f-fuck, i’m gonna fill you up so good.” he groans. “such a good girl. pussy so good.. squeezing around me like that, fuck..” you can tell that he’s close. his thrusts grow sloppy, desperate, drilling into you as he chases his approaching high. you’re practically drooling, moans spilling from your parted lips as he hits so deep, so good —

before he can help it, his cum is spilling into you, stuttering thrusts slowing to a stop as he pants heavily; the silver chain around his neck is still swinging as he hovers over you, catching his breath. you whine desperately at the sudden loss of movement, your orgasm so close, now chased away —

as much as you want to cum on his cock, you’re at least happy to have his fingers and tongue to help you meet your high, always the doting boyfriend. but as yeonjun sits up onto his knees, what you don’t expect is for him to grip your hips, yanking you further down on his sensitive cock instead of slipping out of you like he usually would, your legs splayed open over his thighs as your hips lift slightly off the bed.

you both gasp in unison at the feeling. “j-jun-?!”

you’re already lifting yourself up onto your elbows, but yeonjun’s hands remain firm on your hips.

“still gotta make you cum, baby, don’t i? just relax for me,” he breathes. you drop back onto the pillow in surprise as a fresh wave of arousal crashes over you, your boyfriend’s sweaty chest still rising and falling in pants as his brows furrow at the over-sensitivity. “jjunie it’s okay, you can just—“

his first thrust takes the words right off of your tongue and somewhere far, far away, and this new angle has you gripping the sheets for dear life. “fuck,” you gasp out as he picks up the pace into a sharp rhythm, pulling your hips against his with firm slaps of skin on skin, his twitching, hardening cock drilling the deepest parts of you like it’s his job. you can’t stop the lewd moans now, wondering how you’re even able to make any sound at all when he’s fucking you this good.

“that’s it, baby, take it,” he grunts, his eyes glued to the bulge of his big cock in your tummy.

“you like it when i use myself to get you off, huh? you like it when i service you like this?” he chuckles, the filthy wet noises that your pussy is making growing even wetter at his words. “y-yes..” you whimper pathetically, unable to even say anything else.

“so fucked out on my cock, can’t even speak..” he murmurs breathlessly, and despite all his taunts, you can tell that he’s no better than you as his words grow increasingly less convincing and just as desperate-sounding as you feel.

he’s pounding into you so messily, one of his thumbs moving over your clit in quick circles, his lips parted and head lolled back as he releases a loud groan at the way you’re clenching around him so tightly. you can see the way his abdomen is tensing from the sheer overstimulation he’s giving himself in his determination to get you off and you nearly cum just at the thought of it.“jjunie, ‘m so.. so fucking close, p-please.. please..”

“that’s it, baby, fucking cum all over my cock, let go for me, fuck- good girl-“ he gasps out, his voice more of a high whine now than anything, his low dominating tone from before practically evaporating with each thrust. his thumb is moving rapidly over your clit, eyes screwed shut and hips twitching, the over-sensitivity stripping him of any thought other than getting the both of you to cum. “n-need it, jun, need it so bad-!” you’re rambling, gripping onto his hand that still holds your hip, shaking and squirming and desperately trying to buck your hips further into him. you can feel the chord about to snap when your eyes meet his, and just like that, your vision flashes white as your orgasm wracks over your entire body. you can feel yeonjun’s warm cum spurting into you again as he moans out filthily, both of you shaking and slick with sweat as he finally collapses on top of you in a daze.

neither of you speak as you both catch your breath, chests moving fervently against each other’s. yeonjun slumps fully into the crook of your neck.

“holy fuck,” he rasps.

“yeah. holy fuck, yeonjun.”

he lifts his head tiredly to give you a shit-eating grin. his hand moves to soothe up and down your waist; “my stamina is no joke, huh?” you roll your eyes but return his smile anyway, resting your arms around his shoulders as you pull him down into a kiss. “can’t believe you did that..” you mumble shyly. he nuzzles his face into your cheek, peppering it with kisses, and you giggle.

“gotta give my best for my baby.”

[beardedjoel]

indebted

dark!joel x f!reader. one shot.

main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: you're having a bad day. one you think is getting better once a rough around the edges man comes to your rescue. you didn't expect it would takes such a sharp turn for the worse. first person pov reader. 9.2k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! NON CONSENUAL SEXUAL ACTS, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, pervy, sleazy, and foul mouthed joel. degradation, sexual favors, forced oral and piv, virgin reader, corruption, innocence, and daddy kinks featured. biiig ol' age gap (reader's age not mentioned other than "young" but i imagine her as 18-20 as she has a relatively immature attitude, imagining joel 50-55), this is not for everyone and that's okay. i'm not responsible for the content you consume.

a/n: i had some hormonal induced insanity and came up with this. i had a great time trying out a new pov for writing fic! enjoy him as much as i did, friends 🖤 and thanks @joelstummy for the amazing freaky beta work!

I’ll be the first person to admit now that what I’ve been doing is stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. The list goes on. I can hear my father’s stern, militant voice in the back of my head, telling me as much. Except now he likely won’t get the chance to relish in it because I’m going to die here. Way out here where nobody will find my body, and I’ll be just another person that went missing in the QZ, never to be seen again. But this time, it’s not some sleazy FEDRA scheme and coverup or a smuggling deal gone wrong.

It’s utterly and completely my fault.

Sneaking out wasn’t meant to become a habit, but after the first few times, I lost the fear and adrenaline that had burned hot through my veins at those first steps of freedom. I craved it again, so I kept going further. And further. Away from civilization as I knew it, until the cluster of buildings known as the Quarantine Zone became a tiny speck in the distance. Out here was desolation, nothingness, only abandoned buildings to explore. The infected were another story, but I started to learn routes that helped me avoid encounters with them.

It helped clear my mind after a while, this newly found sense of adventure. All I’d ever known was a cage, a walled city that had become so mundane I felt my insides starting to rot from the listlessness of it all. My father was important - top in the rankings - I knew that, and it was all the more reason to keep me safely locked away while the city stirred with chatter of an uprising against FEDRA. 

He never bothered to check on me much, anyways, making my little forays quite easy. Once I’d persuaded enough people with ration cards, they’d shown me the tunnel leading to freedom. Well, that tunnel, then another, a ladder to climb back up to the surface, and only then could I go through a precarious hole in a chain link fence. That was the smuggler’s route, they said, an easy ticket to getting in and out without being noticed. 

I’d been abusing it, staying out for days at a time, never able to drink in enough of this quiet solitude that was of my own choosing, not my father’s. I couldn’t quite figure out what hole inside of me I was trying to fill, but I’d be damned if I stopped trying.

However, today seemed to be my last chance to try at all. His footsteps had been quiet - so quiet - approaching behind me. An old store, full of half decayed plushies, molded candies, and other adorable things from lives long put in the past, had called to me, distracted me. The arm around my throat, constricting, the other coming up to put a hand over my mouth. A dirty, putrid smell encompassing everything as I sputtered against him. This is it, I’d thought. What a waste.

I scream and fight against the strong hold he has on me, a nasty sneer right against my skin. “What’s some fresh meat like you doing waaaay out here, huh?” a dark voice rattles into my ear.

I scream behind his dirty palm in response, kicking my legs back at him. I should have learned more self defense, but who needs it when you’ve spent most of your life safely tucked away with your family name as your biggest protector?

“You smell good… real good…” The creep’s voice buzzes by me as he takes a deep breath in, making me shudder. One swift kick and I’m sure this is it, the one to knock him senseless and let me escape. He’s smart for how distracted he seems to be by my scent, and he’s one step ahead of me. My legs are kicked out from underneath me as I rear one back, and I fall to the ground, the man coming down with me to sit on my back, straddling my body in a fluid motion. He grips my hands behind my back, leaving me helpless in my fight, kicking and screaming. I’m ice and heat all at once, my body burning in a frozen blaze, my fight or flight quickly turning to fawn as his weight presses down on me.

“You can have anything in my backpack, anything! Please, let me go! I - I don’t want any trouble,” I choke out pathetically, hating how my voice comes out in shaky waves. This isn’t how to appeal to people like this, people who have lost their sense of humanity, evident by the way he’s now grinding himself down onto my jean clad asscheeks. 

A laugh comes out of him that would haunt me as evil incarnate for the rest of my days if I wasn’t so sure that I was going to die at the hands of this man after he was done with me. “We both know I don’t give a fuck about any damn backpack of yours. I don’t want any trouble either, sweet cheeks, I just think you’d have a lot of fun with me and my friends. But mostly me,” he replies with the hint of a wink in his voice. 

My stomach clenches, sickness rolling in that is only furthered as the man leans down, cloaking me with his large form. I can’t turn enough to see him, to even know what this violation of a man looks like, but his energy is beyond hideous as I catch a glimpse of his yellowing teeth in a grin before he pushes my head down to the cracked linoleum tiles. My hair tangled in his fingers, he holds me down hard, and I struggle to breathe as he crushes me beneath him.

“Now, are you gonna come easily, or do I need to do things the hard way? Either way is fine with me, for a fine piece of ass like this. In fact, I might prefer it the hard way, but we’d hate to ruin this pretty skin of yours, wouldn’t we?” He says slowly, pressing the cold blade of a knife to my throat.

“O-okay, okay,” I acquiesce, stopping my squirming, just needing a bit of room to breathe, my lungs heavy inside my chest. My panic only makes my chest tighter, even when the man leans back the tiniest bit. I had hoped that my sudden compliance would get that knife off my throat, but it hasn’t. “Just don’t hurt me… please…” I whimper.

He lets out a long, ragged sigh. “Afraid I can’t promise that.” 

I’ve never felt fear like this, such certainty that I was about to be ruined, my life as I know it changing without a chance to even look back. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for it, for anything he’s about to do next, finally accepting that there isn’t any appealing to scummy men in a scummy world. But nothing comes except for a muffled crack ringing through the air, and then a thud as the entire weight of my adversary falls on top of me, crushing. Something warm has splattered on my skin, my face, then starts to coat my jacket, seeping through. I shake violently, begging my body to catch a full breath under the weight of him. 

Then as suddenly as it happened, it stops, the body yanked off of me and tossed to the side with ease. The deafening thud of his entire weight onto the ground is stark. I flip over and scramble backwards, grabbing the knife that had fallen from the man’s hand in his swift, final moment. Holding up a shaky hand, I grip the knife tightly, looking up to face a brutish, tall man with overgrown hair of chestnut and gray. A trim beard with the same coloring wraps around his tightly set jaw. He’s all wide shoulders, thick arms, broad chest, and my senses go on high alert again. His gun is practically still smoking as it hangs at his side, an active threat.

“Y’alright?” he drawls, thick and deep, echoing through the abandoned shop. One step closer to me has the knife practically flailing as I struggle to calm my hands, a strained hum alongside my shaky breathing the only sound I seem capable of making.

“Put that thing down,” he says calmly, almost exasperated. His stance slackens, one knee pushed out as he sizes me up. I’m likely the most miserable looking thing he’s seen in a while, I’m sure. “You’re harmless.”

“H-how do I know you’re not with him?” I blurt out.

My gruff savior lifts his brows incredulously. “That guy?” he asks, motioning impatiently to the dead body only a foot away. “Think I’d be puttin’ a bullet right in his skull if he was my best buddy?”

My eyes dance over him as I think. He has a point, and he did just save me from whatever debauched things that stranger’s mind had been conjuring up.

“Y-yeah, you have a point,” I finally say. He steps closer, and this time, I let him, putting the knife down. He motions with an authoritarian air for me to push it away, and I obey immediately, flinging it across the room. 

“Poor fucker died with a hard on, didn’t he?” The man muses as his boots thud on the way over to the body, kicking it slightly as if to check, letting it roll back before turning his attention on me. “Now, are you usually this stupid, comin’ into hunter territory, or what?” he asks, reaching a hand down to me, presumably to help me up.

“I didn’t know…” I mumble, letting his hand hang there. He doesn’t snatch it back right away, although I can tell he wants to, that he’s already beyond exasperated by his day and the last thing he’d wanted was a damsel in distress like me. I hate that he’s proving all the things I’d been trying to disprove about myself by coming out on these solo trips into the great, big outside. I’m weak. Dependent. Needy. It makes my skin crawl with self loathing and frustration.

“Didn’t know, huh? So just clueless, then?” the man spits out, staring down at me with darkened eyes that make me turn my head away in shame. At my sullen silence, he seems to soften a little. “I’m Joel,” he says, an offering to go along with his outstretched hand.

I sigh, taking it and telling him my own name. I’m up on my feet, dusting myself off and looking at him shyly now. I don’t know what people are supposed to say when someone saves their life, so I just mumble, “Thank you.”

Joel snorts, nodding in acknowledgment as he crouches to pat down the body, seeming to come up short of anything interesting. “Don’t thank me yet,” he says, standing back to his full, towering height, glancing around with sharp eyes. “We should move.”

I might be as stupid as he says, because I wordlessly start to follow him towards the door. His hand stretches out behind him, open and inviting me in as he checks outside the door with a careful peek, his gun held tightly in the other. I stare down at it in disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he sighs, that perpetual vexation in his tone again as he twitches his brows at me. “Need you close by. An’ it seems you have a tendency to go where you shouldn’t.”

My cheeks grow hot at the harsh truth of it, and I grasp his hand without any further objections, marveling for a moment at the way it envelops mine. All calloused and hard, mine soft and unused for labor of any kind. 

“I’ve got a safehouse not too far from here.”

“A safehouse?”

“It’s already gettin’ dark. There ain’t no way we’re making it back to the QZ today, princess,” he retorts quickly, the pet name mocking on his tongue.

“How’d you know?” I ask softly, disappointment pressing in on my shoulders.

He chuckles out more of a snort, pulling me around a bend, slowly leaving behind the dangerous territory that I’d unknowingly encroached on. “You’re a FEDRA princess if I’ve ever seen one,” he tells me, and my heart sinks that I was so easy to read. I’d seen how capable this man Joel was, but damn was he was astute, more than I’d given him credit for. 

I chew at my lip. “Fair enough,” I mumble under my breath, letting him take his well earned win. The longer I hang onto Joel’s hand, letting him expertly weave me through the barren streets, the safer I start to feel. He knows where he’s going, a practiced route he’s taken countless times, and it hits me then that this man is a smuggler. He has to be.

“Are you a smuggler?” I ask pointedly. “I’ve heard that people like that come in and out of the QZ.”

Joel falters for just a brief second, giving me a wily grin. “Look who’s readin’ who now,” he says with a dry chuckle. “Ain’t gonna run and tell your daddy, are you?”

I shake my head, pressing my lips together in a smile. “I can keep a secret.” In fact, I like keeping secrets from my father, hence the sneaking out, so Joel can count on me to never rat him out.

His amused grin in response lights a little flame akin to friendship inside of me. This grumpy old bastard could smile after all. “Just through here,” he says, letting the smile drop, taking a sharp left down a street just as a sprinkle of rain starts to fall on us. It’s a less urban area - more like a neighborhood - sprouted with apartment buildings and abandoned, vine covered cars. It’s my favorite thing about all the exploration I’ve been doing, seeing the way nature can reclaim anything and make it her own. 

The cracked street below us makes me tread carefully, lagging behind as Joel’s hand tugs me along urgently. We turn down an alley, Joel whipping his head left to right before dragging me behind him, finally dropping my hand to open a door that leads right into a tiny lobby and a stairwell. He runs a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back some - a rather handsome look for him, now that I’m thinking about it. I try to ignore that thought as his voice booms through the empty room.

“Up,” he commands, gripping my hand again and leading us up the stairs. 

My stomach sinks a little when he takes out a key, unlocking a padlock on one of the apartments numbered 405 and pushing the old, chipped door inwards. I have no reason not to trust Joel, he saved my life afterall, but I can’t shake the nerves I feel from being in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar man. It’s quiet here, likely nobody in the vicinity but the two of us.

“Home sweet home,” he grunts out, dropping his backpack and gun holster near the door and shrugging off his damp jacket, leaving him in a plain tee shirt that hugs his muscular frame. It’s a small, cramped apartment with a living room and kitchen directly next to it, a little window cut into the wall, peering in on the living room from above the stove. It looks as if it’s left exactly as it was years ago, full of furniture and clutter, only a vessel for Joel to use without making it his own at all. I peer past to see a small hallway I can only assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom.

“Know it ain’t the palace you’re probably used to, but we’ll be safe an’ dry here,” he say, and I roll my eyes behind his back. If Joel thinks that I live in a palace, he’s clearly misunderstood the state that the QZ is in. My father’s house is spacious, sure, but it’s just as dilapidated as the rest of the city. The only difference is the level of protection afforded to our homes.

He ambles into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets with a clatter, then comes back moments later with an open can of beans and two forks. I’m still standing in the entryway, unsure of what to do with myself.

“Hungry?” he asks gruffly, and I shake my head, wide eyed. I’d lost my appetite the minute that man had grabbed me earlier, and I couldn’t seem to get it back. Joel shrugs, digging in with a messy forkful of from the can. “Your funeral,” he says, chewing.

Joel sinks down onto the couch with a tiny groan, setting down the can on the side table next to his armrest, giving the other cushion an expectant look. “Well, you gonna sit your ass on down an’ tell me why the hell I had to save it today, or what? Why the hell you’re wanderin’ around like it’s a free for all out there?”

I flinch slightly at his harsh tone, but gingerly step my way into the room, unzipping my jacket and shedding it. For the chill outside, the temperature inside the apartment is more comfortable than I’d expect, my skin welcoming the change. Joel eyes my thin tee shirt, and I feel a flash of heat sweep my skin before I feel the prickle of goosebumps, knowing my nipples are poking through the fabric. His eyes catch there before he promptly averts them.

I sit precariously next to Joel on the loveseat, pressed as far away as I can from him, not wanting to cramp his personal space. But he seems to have no problem with that anyways, his legs spread wide open in a comfortable stance, leaned back against the cushions. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a moment as he awaits my answer. 

“I was… exploring,” I say simply, cringing at how ridiculous it sounds coming out of my mouth. Who leaves perfect safety to wander around in a dangerous world on purpose? For no other reason than curiosity and a sudden, rebellious sense of defiance?

His eyes snap open, head pulling up from the couch, turning my way. “Explorin’…” He mulls on the word, slowly licking his lips before pursing them. “You’re tellin’ me I had to save a FEDRA brat today ‘cause she was explorin’? You really are stupid. ‘Course you are, look how young y’are. Look how fuckin’... sheltered.” Joel throws his hands up, landing them on his thighs with a soft thud, sighing. “Can’t even blame ya.”

I pluck up every bit of courage I have, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, it was really nice of you to save me and everything, and I do thank you for it. I’m sorry if I messed up whatever… smuggling stuff you had going on today, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me… stupid.” The last word is quiet, mousy, and I turn my head down, eyes shining with unshed tears that I silently curse myself for. My father’s voice rings through my head - you stupid girl! - making me shudder.

Joel sucks at his teeth. “Hit a nerve, I see,” he says passively. “Alright, I’m sorry kiddo. I just mean, you’re puttin’ yourself at risk doin’ what you’re doin’, and it ain’t a smart idea. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I sigh out, relaxing a little. “I just needed to get away.”

“From your dear old daddy?” he teases, picking up the can, shoveling several more bites into his mouth. I go silent, picking at a thread on the couch rather than answer him. “Ah, another nerve, I see. Daddy issues. Could’ve guessed that one.”

“I don’t have -”

“Sweetheart…” Joel interrupts, looking at me from under his brows, pulling his lip between his teeth, seeming to look at me in a fresh light. It sends my skin tingling, the way he eyes me, a glint in his stare. It seems to prove his point, the way a pet name from a middle aged man seems to immobilize me against my will. I want to slap the smug look off his face, but I have no grounds to do so, only grumbling quietly with my cheeks blazing in embarrassment. A prickle of something else works its way deep into my belly, something warm at how his scrutinizing eyes flick over my body, the lines in his face set, showing his age, his experience. 

“Take a piece of advice from a man probably as old as your daddy, then. Trust me when I say that outside those walls ain’t the place to find what you’re lookin’ for. The sooner you let go of that notion, the better off you’ll be.” 

Frustration blooms hot in my chest, overpowering whatever the hell that sudden, unwanted feeling was. I’m tired of people dictating what I can and can’t do, what I’m capable of. “People do it all the time - smugglers - you would know,” I retort. “I’ve been doing it for months. Never had a problem until today. It was just some bad luck.”

“Bad luck? Really? You’d be that man’s newest little cock sleeve if it weren’t for me savin’ your ass,” Joel growls, standing up off the couch. I wince at his vulgar language, the picture it paints in my mind of what life might have been like if Joel hadn’t happened to be in the right place at the right time.

“I - I know - I’m sorry,” I blurt out, feeling my hands start to go shaky. “Thank you, Joel, I really - I really do owe you. Everything.”

“Like I said, don’t thank me yet.” He steps over so that he’s in front of me, using his boot to part my legs, scooting them apart and standing between them. “Think I did all this out of the kindness of my heart, did you? Didn’t think that maybe I was after the same damn thing as buddy boy earlier?”

I’m like a fish out of water, the way my lips move with no sound coming out. “Joel…” I breathe out in warning, in questioning. I see his arms strain in his t-shirt, hands flexing open and closed.

“I can’t say the thought ain’t crossin’ my mind now. You are mighty pretty. And you do owe me a favor. One big ol’ gigantic favor, for savin’ your backside.” He brushes his fingers along his jeans, palming his crotch for a brief second before leaning forward, caging me in on the couch with hands on either side of me, pressing into the cushions. My heart hammers in my chest so loud I expect Joel can hear it, can feel the fear taking hold of me. He bares his teeth above me like a wild animal, and now I’m certain he can smell my fear too, that he thrives on it. 

“You know what? Maybe you were bound to find what you were lookin’ for outside those walls. Maybe that’s what you needed, is it? Couldn’t find any love from daddy back home, so you wanted to find someone to turn you into their own personal little play thing. Poor baby just needed some attention, did she? Sad, really.”

My hands tremble, my words lost as I can only breathe in shaky little breaths, shaking my head violently. How can this god forsaken day keep getting worse? 

“Please -” I mumble out, bringing a jittery hand up to my mouth. Joel slaps it away, gripping my chin harshly at first, inspecting me before his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. I’d think it was gentle, caring, even, if not for the nasty look spreading across his face, the grin that darkens it along with his eyes.

“Time to put this pretty thing to better use and show how grateful you are to ol’ daddy Joel,” he says, using his free hand to deftly unbuckle his belt, the jangling sound like a death knell, making my throat go dry. “Promise I’ll be much better than he would’ve been earlier. People say I’m… a generous lover.” His drawl is slow and calculated, voice deep with lust, the sly smirk turning to a triumphant grin as he chuckles, amusing himself.

He grips the top of my head, pushing me to slide down the couch cushions into a slump as I struggle, powerless against a man of his strength. He positions himself higher up to bring the giant denim bulge right in my view. I wince, trying to turn my head away as his zipper comes undone, his hand grasping deep into the fly of his jeans, yanking his cock out. When it springs free, I gasp as he lets it slap me in the face. Hot, throbbing, and massive, leaking a shiny bead of precum that had ended up somewhere on my cheek. I sit stunned and held in place by his rough hand. 

The cold hard fact hits me that this is the first time I’m ever going to experience intimacy of any kind. Hell, I’ve only had one kiss before, and it was when I was ten years old, with a boy belonging to one of my father’s friends, a name I can’t even remember now. The first penis I’m ever seeing is right here, right now, in a context I have had zero control over. It’s thicker than I’d imagined one could be, softer too as I look at the skin of it. Veins run along the sides and bottom, all leading up to an imposing, angry pink head at the tip, practically bursting as it awaits me. It’s magnificent and terrifying at the same time, nothing like what I’d expected based on the half-assed health classes provided by schooling in the QZ. Sex has always had a shroud of mystery for me, and I never imagined that all those secrets, long awaited, would be uncovered like this. A dingy bedroom, a man likely almost three times my age, and me as an unwilling participant. Desperation swiftly grips my chest as I realize I actually have no clue what goes on behind closed doors between two people, and I have a feeling I’m about to find out in the crudest of ways.

The fearful innocence I know is about to be stolen from me causes tears to sting at my eyes, fat little droplets that instantly start to roll down my cheeks, leaking onto Joel’s large fingers still gripped around my chin. I start to struggle, my body seeming to catch up with my mind, loud warning sirens of DANGER! DANGER! finally blaring out in a panic. When I squirm, Joel plants one of his knees into my body, keeping himself balanced while still being able to hold me down. 

“Don’t cry now, honey, it’ll only make him harder.” He sneers as he strokes his cock, slapping the head against my closed lips a few times. He wrenches my jaw down, forcing it open. “Nice ‘n wide for this big boy, there we go,” he says, not waiting a moment longer to barge his cock past the opening while he has it. 

He groans loudly as he shoves several inches in right from the get go, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The hand that had been holding my jaw presses in on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d have nowhere to go, anyways, with his knee on my thighs, his entire body caging me in, the cushions giving me no leeway to the way his cock is forcefully intruding, inch by inch down my throat. The taste is all consuming - a little salty, a little ripe, tasting like days of Joel’s old sweat, but it’s not completely bad, not what I’d have expected. It’s heady in a strange way, clouding my mind as I try to cope with the fullness in my mouth. 

The next moment I sputter, my eyes popping open wide, flooded with tears as he hits the back of my throat. I try to gasp for air and I find that I can’t. This is torture of some form, it must be. Full panic follows, where I try to move, but every avenue is pinned down in some way by Joel’s massive body. I weakly flap at him with my hands but it barely even deters him from rocking his hips in and out, choking me again on the thrust inwards as the back of my throat tightens, gagging around his thick girth. 

“Open up, relax your goddamn throat,” Joel hisses at me, keeping his cock pressed fully to the back of my throat, constricting any airflow I was hoping to have. I finally breathe shakily out of my nose when he pulls back just enough, only to slide it in slowly, his eyes carefully watching me. I glance up for the first time at him from below, hoping to find any shred of humanity he might have for me, but I’m met with an icy, dark gaze clouded with lust, power. 

“Gonna fuck your face now, like the dumb little slut you are. This is what stupid girls get for wanderin’ around by themselves. This is what they ask for.” He punctuates the last words with a sharp thrust inwards, my entire body convulsing with the gag I sputter out around him, drool pooling around my stretched lips. I would whimper if I could, if I even had the air to do so. 

Joel is relentless for the next few moments, rapid thrusts in and out of my mouth, my head held conveniently in place against the couch cushions for him. He groans deeply, his pleasure evident while I’m just trying to get my next breath in. I time them expertly, learning as I go, letting him continue to take from me to gain his own pleasure. 

“That’s it, that’s right, you’re turnin’ into quite the good girl,” Joel mutters above me, rolling his hips with vigor and making me gag again. I can feel drool dribbling down my chin, my neck, landing on my chest, and it makes me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and a twinge of something else. I can’t tell as Joel grunts, pumping himself in and out of my gruesomely contorted jaw, if the fact that it’s something even remotely sexual has me feeling things I shouldn’t. My cheeks burn hot as my eyes continue to water - how much of it is crying and how much of it is just my body’s response to him hitting the back of my throat, I don’t know.

Then he surprises me by slowing down, languid strokes of his cock in and out with sloppy sounds, a soft hand landing on my head, stroking before bundling my hair in his fist tightly. “Knew you’d have such a filthy little mouth for daddy,” he coos, rolling his hips forward a little further, touching the back of my throat with his cock. 

My body spasms a little when he keeps pushing, grumbling quiet groans of approval. My eyes squeeze shut, leaking out an onslaught of tears. I don’t want to see the aftermath if it ends up that it’s one gag too many and the inevitable happens. But to my surprise, he keeps slipping down, intruding on my throat. I try to keep my trembling body still, wanting to keep my throat relaxed, terrified of what might happen if I fight this. Can a person die this way? Could I really choke to death on this man’s dick? 

“Jesus fuck. Lord have fuckin’ mercy…” Joel breathes out as he pushes even further. “Swallowin’ him down, aren’t ya? Feel me right in here, I bet.” I flinch when he touches his hand to the column of my throat, wrapping his fingers softly around the flesh. When he starts to retreat, the choking is back in a second, but Joel holds me by the throat, keeping my neck craned back, returning to the brutal way he’d been abusing my mouth. I groan and sputter and try to cough through all of it, my mouth stuffed full over and over again before I can get a breath in. 

He’s relentless, and then it stops all at once, his cock popping out from between my lips with a wet, lewd sound. A stream of drool follows, a gush that dribbles down onto my already soaked shirt, and I cough violently, my hands flailing to clutch at my chest. 

As soon as the pressure of Joel’s body lifts off of me, I’m scrambling to somewhere, anywhere else, my limbs stiff and achy, my jaw panging with a soreness I’ve never felt before. He stands in front of me, one hand shooting out to grab the collar of my shirt before I can even get fully off the couch, pulling me close.

“Does it look like you’re done showin’ your gratitude yet?” he growls out, gripping the back of my head and forcing me to look down at his cock, still standing at full attention, shiny and dripping with saliva. I swallow hard, the lump painful on the way down. Joel shakes my head for me, the burn at my scalp making me wince. He presses his hips flush with mine, forcing his erection against my thigh before slipping it between them. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over my face before his lips brush mine.

“You do make a pretty cocksleeve, y’know. Suckin’ cock like a cheap whore, wonder if you take it the same way in your cunt.”

I whimper, shaking my head, the tears non-stop as they roll down my cheeks. “Please… don’t. You don’t have to do this…”

Joel scoffs. “If I put my hand down your pants to that pretty little snatch, tell me I wouldn’t find you wet right now.” He punctuates the words with a sharp pull on my scalp. I cry out, lip quivering, trying to shake my head. “Don’t lie t’me after I’ve been so, so generous t’you today.”

I’m spinning around, a dizzying sensation, Joel’s strong bicep brought across my chest as his other hand delves below my waistline, plunging deep, right to my cotton panties, bypassing the waistband of those, too. Without care, without any sense of boundaries, his fingers explore, slipping through my sensitive slit with ease. I yelp, squirming at the intrusion, and Joel’s deep chuckle behind me confirms what I already knew, what I was beyond confused by.

“Thought so,” he says gruffly, then he cups my entire mound, giving an almost comforting sensation, holding his hand tightly pressed to it. “Nothin’ to be upset about, we’re just havin’ a little fun, payin’ off your debt to dear ol’ Joel, okay?”

I shake my head. “I - I shouldn't be here… it shouldn’t be like this,” I whisper in a cracking voice, hanging my head low as the tears just keep coming, damn them. 

Joel’s fingers start to move slowly, just starting with one, stroking gently up my lips, spreading my slickness around. I’m surprised that it feels good, a pleasant little tingle zipping right to my core that I quickly lament, hating myself for it. “What shouldn’t be like this, hm? That you shouldn’t like my cock down your throat? It’s perfectly natural, doll,” he says, somehow soft and condescending in the same breath.

“A-all of this,” I whimper, “Please, j-just let me go. I w-won’t say anything, I won’t do anything. I just…”

Joel quietly shushes me, letting his finger do the talking for a moment. It drags up to my clit, rubbing tiny, enticing little circles. I bite my lip hard, enough to taste copper, trying to suppress the moan climbing its way up from my chest. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay that it feels good. It’s ‘sposed to. Good little sluts like you don’t know any better, don’t care what it is that’s gettin’ their panties wet. Desperate,” he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess that’s now drooling onto the cotton. “Just relax, let it happen…” I feel his breath, hot on my ear, before he nibbles, biting down hard on the earlobe, tugging it with his teeth. It bursts out, the whimpering moan I’d been holding back, just as he pinches my clit at the same time as the bite.

He laughs. He has the nerve to laugh and it sends a shiver down my spine, my brain muddled and confused and turned on by the eroticism at play here. He soothes me by nuzzling my neck, taking a long, deep breath in. I squirm as Joel’s hand retreats, and I wonder for just a moment, a brief, all consuming moment, if maybe he’s seen reason. When his fingers find the buttons of my jeans, my heart plummets to depths previously unknown as he unbuttons them, pulling the zipper down slowly, the only sound in the room his harsh breathing right on my neck.

“Please, I gave you what you want already,” I beg once more, feeling it fall on deaf ears as Joel tugs my jeans down, revealing my pink cotton panties. They’re my favorite pair - were my favorite pair - a rare find in a world like this. Pretty pale pink with a nice lacy trim and a little bow at the front. Only now, they’d belong to Joel.

Joel clicks his tongue in approval of the sight, pulling his head back to peer at my underwear from the back before his hand grips my ass, jiggling it roughly. “Oh, you’re jus’not getting it, are you? You feel this?” he asks angrily, letting me feel the hard length of his cock pressed to my ass cheeks, threatening to slip between my thighs. “This means you didn’t give me nearly half of what I want yet. He’s still achin’ for ya, princess.” 

I grit my teeth, hating the pet name, the way he’s using who I am to mock me. It’s a low blow. I hated everything to do with being associated with my father - I knew he wasn’t a good man - and I hated most that it was so obvious to a stranger which echelon of society I belonged to. If I was so important, where were they now, huh? I want to scream those words at him, but instead I just feel my legs tremble underneath me, my knees feeling like jelly as they almost give out on me.

“Please!” I struggle against his hold, but it only makes him grip my ass tighter, hard enough to bruise. “I-I’m a virgin,” I suddenly squeak out, unsure of why I say it other than some last ditch effort to deter him. My heart pounds as he stills, dead silent with his hand grasping my ass like it’s his next meal, like he owns it. 

“Well ain’t it my lucky day. Shit, that’s why you were sputterin’ all over my damn cock, ain’t it?” he says as the epiphany dawns on him, laughing. My cheeks blaze hotter and hotter, hating that I’m even embarrassed at my lack of experience and skills, like I have some sick need to impress him. He notices my tension, my head hanging low as I cry new tears, and says, “Hey, hey, nothin’ to be ashamed for. In fact…” His hand fists in my underwear, tight and unrelenting. I feel his cock press against my ass again, harder than ever before it slips between my thighs. “Makes me awful excited,” he purrs, bringing his mouth to my ear again.

I only give him a timid whimper in reply, squeezing my eyes shut as I realize there is nothing I can do to stop this man. He thinks I’m a cheap whore, and he loves it. I’m a pure virgin, and he loves it even more.

He squeezes me tighter to his chest, my back starting to sweat through my thin tee shirt. “The hell were you savin’ yourself for anyways? Marriage? A sweet pussy like this?” At my silence, he cups my pussy hard, letting the dampness of my underwear soak into his palm. “Answer me!” he barks out.

“I - I wasn’t! I don’t know!” I cry out, trembling.

“Well,” he says, fisting my panties again, starting to pull them down. “M’honored you’d let me be your first, sweetheart,” he drawls, and I nearly scream at the insinuation. I’m not letting him do anything. 

I start to put up more of a fight, useless against his thick arms holding me so tightly. Cool air touches my ass and the space between my thighs as he manages to shimmy my panties further down even in my struggle. I clamp my legs shut in defiance, roaring out a strained grunt as I keep trying to squirm out of his grasp. He huffs in anger, trying to subdue my writhing body before he pushes it towards the couch. I land hard, banging my knee on the hard edge that supports the cushion, wincing and trying to catch my breath. I’m practically in position for him already, ass pressed out towards him, on my hands and knees.

“Gonna make me do things the hard way, are you?” He scowls, his free hand fisting in my hair again, pulling me close.  His breath is hot over my shoulder, the sensation vile against the skin of my cheek, stained with tears. “Been too long since I found a pretty virgin like you. An’ ruinin’ this perfect, pure little cunt is jus’ the cherry on top of a perfect day f’me.” 

I feel his hard cock twitch against me, a reminder of what’s to come. The movements are quick for how bulky Joel’s body is, let alone his age, as he exchanges the hold across my chest for my wrists, bundling them behind my back. I cry out at the strain, the awkward angle he’d twisted them to, fighting him again until a hard smack lands on my ass. I scream through gritted teeth, not giving up the fight, but another thwap! rings out through the apartment, making me falter. My tender flesh screams at me in agony when he lands another spank, even harder this time, then another, until I’m crying unrelenting, fat tears.

With me rendered motionless, Joel presses down, bending me over, my balance tricky with my hands behind my back. My face nearly touches the couch, but I’m precariously held up by the wrists, the strain already making them ache. The warmth dripping between my thighs betrays me as my ass stings in residual little pulses, so raw and sore but spreading a pleasure through me that I’ve never known before. 

I don’t have time to dwell on it before Joel is grasping one hand on my hip, notching himself at my entrance. “Promise you’re gonna like this, that you’ll never be able to think of anyone else’s cock but daddy Joel’s,” he spews gruffly in my ear before he thrusts hard, one swift motion to bury himself inside of me. I scream out, the searing pain between my thighs making me wonder if I’m being split open for good, if it’s possible that some things are just too big to fit in certain places of the body. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Joel hisses through his teeth, making the tiniest thrusting motions to ensure he’s buried deep. Every movement pierces me with a new sting as my body desperately tries to adjust, to accommodate the horrible, overwhelming intrusion. “You were not kiddin’, sweetheart. Tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever been in.”

I sob, unable to speak, unable to move as Joel thrusts brutally from the get go, his hips snapping with force, crashing into mine hard enough to bruise. The lewd sounds we make disgust me, because I know I’m part of those sounds, my body enjoying the filthy things he’s saying, the way he’s taking me without remorse. He pulls himself out, clicking his tongue as he peers down between our bodies. “Christ, you are one sexy little bird. Poor little virgin bleedin’ on daddy’s cock.”

The thought horrifies me, making my stomach turn. “Please,” I cry out, my body rocking with the motions as he starts to fuck me again, the strain on my wrists as Joel uses them to help thrust himself inside of me starting to gnaw deeper into them. I’m like a ragdoll with the way he’s jerking me by my wrists, my body having no choice but to flail in time with the movements so that he can press himself deep on each cruel thrust inwards.

“You want more? You beggin’ already?” Joel grunts between his heavy breaths, sounding so cocky it makes me want to spin around and punch him. I settle for gritting my teeth instead, feeling my body slowly but surely melding into his. When Joel presses me down further, forcing an arch in my back, I whimper when his cock hits something sensitive, deep, primal. Fuck, is it something. 

“Oh, that’s it. We got her now, don’t we?” he says from above, continuing to stroke his cock along that spot repeatedly. I feel myself losing my will to fight, hating the pleasure but feeling myself lean into it slightly, my hips pressing back to meet his nearly against my will. “You ever come before, sweetheart?” He leans in a little closer to ask the question, the pistoning of his hips slowing the slightest bit.

I refuse to answer, tears pooling in my eyes. I don’t want him to take this from me, I don’t want him to know anything about me. He jerks my wrists at the same time he slams his hips into me, and I whimper loudly, feeling the way he’s surely bruising my insides. 

“If you ain’t figured it out yet, the rules are that you answer me when I’m askin’ you a question if you know what’s good for ya,” he spits out, and I shake my head, letting it hang limply.

“Use your words. Say ‘no, daddy’,”  he says with sinister condescension, stroking his own ego.

“N-no… daddy…” I say, my tongue revolting against the words, bile climbing up my throat.

He moves his hand to my head, stroking carefully and softly. “Oh, that’s a shame. That’s a daaaamn shame. All pent up, y’are. But daddy will make it all better.” He sounds deranged, sick, like he truly believes that I’m thankful to him for what he’s doing to me. I can’t answer, my mouth gaping open just as he releases my wrists, letting me fall to the couch with a thud. My open mouth gets a mouthful of the cushions, making me sick over the fact that it’s probably full of god knows what due to its age and whatever things Joel seems to get up to in this apartment of his.

I blink as Joel grips tightly at my hips, wondering why he suddenly trusts my hands to be free, when it happens. He thrusts into that spot again, harsh and unforgiving, and I nearly see stars behind my eyes as the head of his cock punches against things I didn’t even know were there. That’s why. I’m incapacitated at this angle, brutally forced to enjoy the pleasure washing over my body as Joel takes from me, actually giving in return this time.

I bite my tongue hard, not wanting to give him any satisfaction for the tiny moans that are growing louder in my throat, desperate to be let out.

“Let me hear you, princess. Daddy doesn’t do with quiet girls. I can feel you clampin’ down on my cock, know you’re lovin’ how I use you up like you were meant for it.”

I shake my head in protest, but a strangled sound escapes past my tight lips when Joel slams into me harder than he has yet, puffing hard as he fucks me like a greedy animal. He chuckles through heavy breaths, little whispers of that’s it, come on, take it, flow freely from his nasty mouth. 

I feel myself slip away, further gone from reality as the warmth spreads from my pelvis into my belly, coiling tight. Everything tingles, set on fire, the spot where Joel handles my hips with his fat fingers practically burning with a constant mix of pleasure and pain. I cry out when Joel’s cock pulls that feeling out from deep inside of me again, half a sob and half a moan as it crescendos, waves of pleasure crashing over me.

Joel’s grunts of approval, so brutish and debauched, sends a new wave of arousal through me. I tremble, eyes squeezed shut with my body completely out of my control, taken over by this boundless bliss. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before: heavenly warmth worlds above any of the pleasures I’ve known. This had to be what Joel was referring to, urging me towards, telling me he wanted to make me come. This had to be what I was missing out on all these years, hiding myself away. Was this the reason sex was so coveted, so sought after? Was this feeling… the reason he’s doing what he is to me right now?  

It feels like it’s never ending, my body so rigid as it spasms yet pliant as he fucks into me harder and harder. I loathe the noises I’m making that intermingle with his as I squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying it.

“Fuck, fuck - that’s it - f-fuck knew you’d love it. Come on my cock, baby, that’s right.” Joel’s string of praises reach my ears as I come down from my high, limp and yielding to whatever it is he wants to do to me now. I have no fight - my bones turned to jelly, my body sore all over, my throat scratchy from the way he’d assaulted it earlier. I only have it in me to give the rest of myself over, whether I like it or not. 

“S-so fuckin’ tight, lettin’ me take your virginity like a good little whore,” he punches out, pounding into my sensitive cunt like it’s saving his soul, like it’s the only thing he could ever care about. I’m on the precipice of coming again, my nerves still frayed and on edge from the last one. A smaller but still powerful climax takes over, my body shuddering and tight, milking every last second of the pleasure. 

“Gonna blow my load into this pure little pussy, make it mine - fuck - gonna fill you up like the cocksleeve you are. P-probably never want to be without my fuckin’ load drippin’ out of you again. I-I’m close, fuck -” Joel rambles as he ruts his hips deep, one final thrust and a grunt, and I feel him stall, pulsing into me. 

It’s all suddenly very still, an eerie quiet settling over the room. My entire body burns hot, the only thing keeping me from collapsing is Joel’s hands still anchored on my hips as he leaves his cock inside of me, plugging me up. I want to cry again at the sudden, overwhelming shame I feel, but I can’t give him the satisfaction. I can’t.

Joel pats my ass a few times, pulling out. I tremble hard, falling forward onto the couch without his hold, instantly curling in on myself. I resent the way I’d noticed how empty I felt the second he was gone, how cold my body was without his warmth pressed into it. I dare to peer up at the sick man who stands above me, catching his breath, watching just as the last bit of his softening cock gets tucked back into his jeans. He swipes a hand across his forehead, gathering sweat, staring down at me with a darkened expression, grinning cockily.

When he plops down on the couch next to me, picking up the can of beans he’d been eating before, my mouth hangs open in surprise at how casual he’s acting. I watch his face shine with sweat, his breathing still labored, but everything else about his attitude would indicate he didn’t just force himself on me. 

I try to keep my expression neutral for my own safety as I feel something leak out of me, not even wanting to give him the smug satisfaction of having to confirm my suspicions about what it is. I do my best to position my body so he can’t see between my legs as I try to pull my underwear up from where they sit near my knees, my jeans following. Joel only gives me a knowing glance as he takes a bite, conscious of the fact that a part of him sits inside my now soiled underwear, and a part of me now sits inside of his soul. 

He shoves the can my way and I shrink back at his sudden motion, not taking it from him. “Eat. I ain’t havin’ you all weak and despondent for the next time.”

I feel my heart sink down past my ass, my stomach plummeting along with it as nausea overtakes me, a dizzying sensation clouding my vision. He couldn’t have said what I think he did. I - I’d paid my debt, whatever it was he thought I owed him for saving me when I didn’t even ask him to. For saving me and then doing exactly what that man had planned to do anyways under the guise of a caring, noble rescuer.

“N-next time…?” I manage to make my mouth move, my throat to produce a sound, pushing the question out in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own.

“Know you said not to call you stupid but my house, my rules, an’ sweetheart…” He looks at me under his raised, expectant brows. “My stupid, stupid girl. Did you really think that would be enough? That I’d get an opportunity every man dreams of - an untouched, perfect pussy like yours, to keep all for m’self, and throw it all away?” He’s creeping closer as he speaks, shrouding me on the couch with his huge frame, caging in where I lay, my body wound as tightly as it can to itself to block whatever he’s thinking of doing next. “Now you don’t think daddy is that dumb to let you go knowin’ all that, do you?”

I sit stunned silent underneath him, wide eyes fixed in a tortured gaze on his rugged face, but his hand squeezing my thigh is warning enough for me to shake my head, stuttering out an answer. “N-no. No…” I whisper. 

Two approving pats on my cheek send Joel slinking back slightly, his dark, unhinged eyes staring holes into me as they roam over my body. Despite nothing even visible - my chest hidden underneath my arms and legs clamped tightly - I feel violated, objectified. 

Terror rips through my chest as reality settles in slowly but surely. I look at the man I’d trusted once, who’d shown himself to be a friend, or at the least an ally, currently feasting his eyes on me like I’m a product. Which now, I suppose I am. A whore. His whore.

“Now,” he says, licking his lips, that hungry gaze already returning, a bulge appearing in his jeans and stretching the fabric. “All I’ve got to do is decide just how long I’ll keep ya for.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: ℂ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥

𝚃𝚘𝚙𝙶𝚞𝚗!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔’𝚜𝚂𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: Skype sex, mentions of a sex tape, mutual masterbation, use of sex toys, cum tasting, getting caught, swearing, name calling, pet names, long-distance relationship, ownership kink, dirty talk, praise

📖 Spoilers: All of my asks got deleted 😭💕, so I’m not sure who requested this, but thank you! The premise is that you have been secretly dating Rafe for 6 months, and you finally get caught.

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

The first time, you told yourself it was a mistake. A one-time-thing. A moment of weakness between you and the man that everyone seemed to hate for one reason or another. After all, Rafe Cameron was trouble—a notorious fuckboy, arrogant, abrasive, and rude, just to name a few of his negative attributes that got shit-talked in the château anytime his name got brought up. But you couldn’t stay away…

There was just something about him—the quiet moments. The moments that he reserved for you and you alone. When he let his guard down. And now here you are, six months into a secret relationship with the man your brother and friends despised. Exchanging I love you’s with your best friend's brother, putting that friendship at risk, but it was worth it for him.

You sit in front of your laptop, crisscross on your bed, your phone in hand as you scroll social media, trying to distract yourself. Rafe was gonna call at 8 o’clock sharp— he was rarely late. His new lifestyle making him a little more punctual than usual.

You steal glances at yourself in the reflection of your laptop, unsure of how to feel as you see yourself. The two of you usually talk on FaceTime, leaving you feeling slightly distorted from the lens. But it would be worth it. You couldn’t wait to watch that little video you sent him earlier. The video you captured on your phone before he left for pilot training school— the video you took for moments just like this.

8:30… You look at the time in the corner of your laptop, feeling your heart flutter. You could hear the muffled sound of the movie playing from behind the door, thankful that they were still committed to relaxing instead of going out, just hoping one of them wouldn’t knock on the door for something from the room; your fingers crossed that Rafe would show up any second so you could at least have 30-minutes and the group wouldn’t question why your “online class” was going so long.

Ding. Your eyes brighten as you hear the unfamiliar notification, making butterflies swirl in your stomach as you see his beautiful face pop up on your screen. He’s breathless, the fringe of his toffee-colored hair falling messily across his sweat-glistened forehead. Rafe, most likely running from the flight line all the way to his apartment.

He huffs out a deep breath through a wide smile. His Navy flight suit hangs half-open, revealing his skin-tight shirt underneath— just a glimpse of his gold chain poking out the top. He lowers his head, catching his breath, giving you the perfect glimpse of his sharp jawline. His beautiful blue eyes rest on the screen as he runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it back in place.

“Hey, baby,” he pants as a smile tugs on the corners of his lips. “I kept you waitin’, princess. I’m sorry.” He softens his voice for you.

“It’s alright, handsome,” you say sweetly as you lean in a little closer— your heart already racing for the boy on the other side of the screen, somehow making you feel giddy on the other side of the country as always, without fail.

Rafe leans back on his couch, adjusting the camera slightly, lifting his phone with a smile. “Got that video you sent me, sweetheart.”

”You did,” you giggle as you bite your lip, watching his smile spread a little wider.

”Mhmm… At lunch. In front of everyone. And I had to act like I wasn’t lookin’ at the sexiest thing I had ever fuckin’ seen…” He drawls, his voice husky and warm. “Couldn’t concentrate on shit for the rest of the day.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” you breathe, and you do mean it, knowing the risks of his position.

“Don’t be… No way you’re apologizing for that, princess. You are the best distraction.” You feel your cheeks warm up at the compliment and the look in his eyes. Your mind races away to what the two of you would do if you were there right now. “You’re thinkin’ about it too, aren’t you?” Rafe smirks as he tilts forward, moving closer to the screen, resting his elbow on his thighs.

Rafe’s arm muscles flex unintentionally—his gold chain tumbling out of his shirt, dangling from his neck, bringing you back to all those moments you were underneath him, watching it swing in front of you with each thrust.

“I am… You wanna watch it with me?”

”Oh my god,” he laughs lustfully as he pulls the rest of the top of his flight suit off. “Yeah, baby… I wanna watch the video of me pounding into that sweet pussy of yours,” he chuckles sinfully. “Let me see your outfit first. Yeah?”

“Mhmm… Yeah. Only if you take off your shirt for me,” you counter, watching the corners of his eyes crinkle as his smile grows.

“Yes, ma'am,” he hums as he stands up from the couch, pulling his uniform the rest of the way down his thighs. He sits on the edge of the couch, ripping his shirt over his head, making you dizzy.

“Rafe…” You swoon as you crawl a little closer to the camera to get a better look; your satin cami draws away from your breasts, giving him a taste of your tits underneath. “You look so good, baby.” He lounges back on the couch in his white Calvin Klein boxers, his abs even more cut than the last time you saw him, his big, broad chest on full display.

“Take it off, princess,” he rasps with a subtle dominance.

You step off the bed, letting him see the satin cami and shorts he had sent you a few days back. You turn to the side slightly as he drinks you in, the high-cut sides showing off your thighs and hips just right, the draping on the sides of the top showing off the curves of your tits. “Fuck, you look good,” he praises, and you smile. You lift your fingers as he watches you carefully, brushing off one strap, then the other, letting the top fall around your hips before pulling it all the way off, leaving you in his favorite lace panties.

Rafe’s eyes roll back at the sight of you, a hungry moan falling from his perfect lips. You watch his hands squeeze his muscular thighs, fighting back the urge to palm his thick bulge, but the desire is too strong. You loop your fingers around your panties, and it’s all over. Rafe’s lip tucks between his teeth as he rests his hand against his cock, already rock-hard, rubbing himself over the thin white cotton.

“You ready, Daddy?” You ask, using that pet name that drives him insane as you walk toward the camera.

“Love when you call me that. Fuck, you’re drivin’ me crazy,” he sighs. You grab your phone, looking at the thumbnail of the video you captured. Lifting your finger, you push it as Rafe does the same.

You can hear the two of you on Rafe’s end, frowning at your phone when nothing comes out. You turn your phone to the side, checking if it is silenced, pressing the volume button rapidly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“You havin’ trouble, baby?” Rafe asks, tilting his head in concern.

“Yeah… I’m sorry,” you mutter frustratedly.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” You hear your brother’s voice bellow from outside the door, feet pounding down the hall the next moment. JJ’s fists bang against the entry, bolts rattling with the impact, sending a surge of panic through you.

Your eyes widen in horror as you check the settings on your phone, the Bluetooth icon illuminated and connected to the living room speakers. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Rafe, everyone heard,” you whisper, seeing the panic in his eyes too.

You turn the laptop towards the wall as JJ continues to fight against the wooden door, threatening to break it down. You scramble around your room, finding a random hoodie before opening the door.

“JJ, it’s fine! I-” You pant as he barges in, his face beet-red with anger.

“Who the fuck are you talkin to, huh? ‘Cause I know it ain’t Rafe Cameron,” he spits as he scans the room. His frantic eyes look down at your phone, catching a quick glance at the paused video. His eyes slam shut in disgust before his expression twists in disbelief. “That video,” he points at your phone. “Everyone fuckin’ heard it… E v e r y o n e.”

Your body trembles with adrenaline as you look back into his wild blue eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you stammer as the blood drains from your face. Your embarrassment peaks as you look over JJ’s shoulder, seeing your friends gathered in the hall.

There’s a slight rustle from your computer—the most minor sound—but JJ immediately catches it. His eyes narrow on your laptop, and he walks toward it slowly. Turning around, he sees your boyfriend in a Navy hoodie and white boxers, confirming all his fears.

”You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” JJ snarls. “You’re fuckin’ with him? HIM? Are you serious right now?”

“JJ,” Rafe calls him firmly from the other end of the computer. “You gotta back off, man.”

JJ sucks his teeth and smiles maniacally at you before turning it around. “Stay away from her, Rafe,” JJ snaps, his voice deep and dangerous.

“She’s my girlfriend, Maybank. I’m not gonna do that,” Rafe keeps calm for the moment.

“Your girlfriend? My sister is your girlfriend? What the fuck is happening right now?”

“Calm down,” Rafe warns but it does nothing but piss him off more.

“You’re tellin’ me to calm down? Do you know who you are? You’re a piece of shit, man. She’s not just some Pogue girl you can collect, alright?”

“I’m not like that with her,” Rafe shoots back. “I’m good to her. I love her.”

JJ scoffs and laughs as he leans into the camera. “Like hell you do. You treat everyone like shit—”

“Not her,” Rafe stops him before he can finish. “She’s different. And I’ve been different because of her. This ain’t the same shit, man. We’ve been together for months, and she didn’t want to say anything because she knew this shit would happen and so did I.”

JJ hesitates, his jaw coiling, the weight of Rafe’s words hanging heavy in the air. JJ looks back at you, a silent conversation shared as you affirm Rafe’s words with a glance.

“I need to know you’re alright…”

“I love him, Jayj,” you reply, loud enough for Rafe to hear, too. “He’s really good to me-” JJ turns toward Rafe, not wanting to hear more than he has to.

“If you hurt her, Rafe, you’re done. Got it?” He snaps. “I don’t give a fuck where you are or how far away it is, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’m not gonna hurt her,” Rafe assures. As soon as the last word leaves his lips, JJ storms out.

You run toward the door, taking a deep breath as you relax your back into it, feeling more relieved in this moment than you had in months, even after everything that’d just happened. 

You smile weakly, looking toward the camera as you walk toward Rafe.

“Well, that could have gone worse,” you respire.

He hangs his head, nodding in agreement. “Considering it’s him and I, I’ll take it as a win, princess. No more sneakin’ around.”

“No more sneaking around… Finally,” you throw your voice, inviting Rafe back to the previous conversation with a look.

“Shit, you’re still up for it, baby?” He laughs as he reaches for the bottom of his sweatshirt, pulling it off, revving you up even more.

“I am,” you breathe, feeling the weight lifted off your shoulders.

“So you’re tellin’ me I get all night with you, princess? Now that everyone knows you’re mine, I get you whenever I’d like. Yeah?”

“Anytime you'd like,” you whisper as you tug your sweatshirt over your head.

“It’s about time…” He licks his lips as he looks back at you.

“I want you so bad, Rafe,” you sigh. He pitches his hips, pulling his boxers down as he looks at you, his hard dick slapping against his tanned skin.

Rafe lets out a throaty moan as he wraps his fingers around his cock, hissing at the sudden contact, tugging a few times before circling his thumb on his tip, spreading around his precum as you’d do with your tongue.

“Just wanna look at you, sweetheart. We don’t need that video. Aight? Not yet. I can't take my eyes off you. I want you to focus on me… Can you do that, princess?”

You climb on the bed, moving closer to the screen. “I can do that for you, Daddy.”

“Mpfhh…” He grunts as he fists his cock a little quicker, dreaming about all the things he’d do to you. “If I were there, I’d be buried in your pussy—start slow, get you off a few times with my mouth, pushing my tongue deep before stuffing you full of my cock, princess.”

“I don’t get to suck you off?” You ask breathily as you arch your back for him, showing off your ass.

“You want that, baby?” He asks through a smile.

“I need that, Rafe,” you flirt as you shift slightly, reaching under your pillow to grab your pink, sparkly toy.

“Fuck yeah. I want it all. I want you here,” he chuckles. “Baby… Shittt,” he buzzes as he realizes what you have in your hand, yet another gift from him.

You tap the tip against your pillowy lips before laying out your tongue, doing the same as his breathing quickens, his opposite hand gripping his thigh tight.

“Jesus fuck… Put it in your mouth, baby. All the way in. Suck on it for me,” he rasps.

“Anything for you…”

“Atta girl…”

His muscles stutter, that little video you sent him earlier edging his mind all day with thoughts of fucking you senseless. “Look what you do to me… Been thinkin’ about you all goddamn day. M’gonna bust before I even get to watch you put it in…” Rafe affirms your thoughts, and you giggle deviously. “You little brat… This is what you wanted didn't you.”

You poke your tongue in your cheek nodding in reply.

Rafe looks at you half-lidded; his bottom lip swollen and red from biting down so hard. He breathes heavily, his muscular arm flexing— bicep strained as he pumps his thick cock.

“Jealous as fuck, princess... Fuck, that should be me,” he rasps as he stretches his arm back on the back of the couch, relaxing a little more. “Love watching those pretty lips wrapped around a cock, regardless,”

Rafe smirks as you suck off the dildo, pulling it out of your mouth, a string of saliva lined from the tip to your soft lips. “So fuckin’ filthy for me, pretty.”

“How do you want me?” You smile as you rise up on your knees, resting it straight up and down on the bed.

“Just like that, baby…”

"Now what?" You ask coyly as you hover above it, teasing your drooling hole with the tip.

“Take it all, princess… I know you can,” he smirks. Your lips part as you widen your thighs, dropping down on the big silicone cock inch by in. You gasp and moan— fully sat with your head tossed back, using your free hand to grope your tits.

The moans that pours through your speakers from Rafe sends chills down your spine. Rafe watches as you slowly lift yourself off, dragging the dildo out before your greedy cunt swallows it up again.

You start to bounce on the mattress, placing the other hand over your mouth to dampen your whines and pleas as Rafe keeps your pace with his strokes. “Wanna fuck you, baby,” he groans, his voice hoarse and raspy, getting off at the sight of you and the sounds of your warm, wet pussy; your muffled whimpers and cries slipping past your hand from time to time is almost too much for him to take.

“Show me your pussy,” he breathes.

You pull out of the toy, whimpering at the loss of it, rolling to your back, giving Rafe the perfect shot of the wet mess between your thighs. You plunge the cock in your glossy hole, propping yourself up slightly to see him, not wanting to miss a thing.

The dildo reaches that special spot, making the knot tighten in your stomach, toes curling as you get closer and closer.

Your eyes fall down his perfect body, landing on his heavy cock, his reddened tip shiny with precum, swollen and throbbing. “Need you to cum for me… Cum with me, baby,” he pants.

"Gonna cum, baby…" You mewl, face scrunched slightly to keep your eyes from shutting or rolling back. Your thighs shake uncontrollably as you dissolve in pleasure, pussy gushing around the dildo as you continue to work it in and out. Rafe pulls off his big cock, losing all control—white ropes of cum painting his abs and thick, pulsing length.

Rafe watches you draw the toy out of your fluttering hole as he pulls off his dick, milking the last bits of pleasure from his body as he watches you close.

You sigh deeply, satisfied, as you crawl toward the camera. Rafe throws his head back, smiling all too wide, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “What am I gonna tell you to do, princess?” He mumbles, still riding his high, not quite ready to come down just yet.

You giggle, cheeks warming up as you show him the toy glistening with your climax. “Suck that shit, pretty,” he smiles. You wrap your lips around it, taking as much as you can get, sucking it off to the tip before smiling dreamily at him. “That’s my girl.”

“That was good,” you sigh as you wrap yourself up in a fuzzy blanket. Rafe cleans himself off, throwing his boxers back on for the moment.

“Better than me?” He quips with his eyebrow cocked.

“Not a fuckin’ chance, baby.”

“We’re watchin’ that video, sweetheart. Don’t get too comfortable,” he hums.

“I can’t wait.”

Rafe looks at you lovingly— the two of you sharing a moment of silence, just happy to be together. “You know, I’ve been thinking about how much I hate bein’ away from you. And I can’t imagine spending Christmas apart…” Rafe’s words get lost on his lips as he takes out his phone and types up a message, your phone dinging a moment later.

Happy tears gather as you look down at the gift from Rafe, a flight confirmation from Charleston, straight to him. “I wanna spend Christmas with you, princess. Just you and me. What do you say?”

You look up at the handsome man on the other side of the screen, letting your happy tears slip down your cheeks.

“I’d love to.”

tags: @rafesthroatbaby @kisses4angels @watchmerora @babygorewhore @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @littlelamy @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren

[draconic-desire]

hiiiii ive been brainrotting abt sunday and his triple face god thing abababah thinking abt him handcuffing reader and interrogating them with the truth thing he does to aventurine ARGHH omg questioning abt who they were with cos hes jealousssss AUGH you dont have to write anything off of this i just hope this inspires you ily

oh you have read my MIND. I’m currently in the middle of writing a fic with dr ratio interrogating reader like he did with mx. stellaron…but now imagining that with sunday?? wow.

i’m totally normal about this man. i swear.

Yan!Sunday x Gn!Reader

Fingers drum on the table, the only break in the suffocating silence engulfing the room.

“I’ll ask you one. Last. Time.” Sunday punctuates each word with another tap of his finger, and you gasp as you feel the Harmony sink its influence another inch further into your skull.

Despite the futility, despite knowing you’ve been trying the same thing over and over again for the past half an hour, you pull at your restraints. The metal chain of the handcuffs skitters along the table, the sound like nails on a chalkboard, but it does not budge from its steel attachment. You’re firmly and inescapably chained to the table in Sunday’s office, with said perpetrator sitting opposite.

He appears calm, but you’ve learned to notice the slight twitch of his eye, the falter in his normal smirk. His patience is one wrong answer away from shattering.

At your silence, he leans back in his chair, shaking his head. His golden gaze is chastising, almost disappointed. “Angel, you know I don’t want to hurt you. Just tell me who you were with.”

You only glare at him in response. Bullshit. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s forced truths out of you or affections upon you through the Harmony. The psychedelic pest in your brain is almost the norm by now, a poison he has slowly been feeding you.

Oh, Triple Faced-Soul, please sear their tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that they will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.

Those words are branded into the flesh of your brain, your soul. And tonight, if you tell him what he wants, even more blood will be spilled.

Sunday’s jealously is as calculating as he is. It’s a knife poised at the right angle to spear you, to pin you with accusations that you can’t talk your way out of.

Like in this instance, where he has deluded himself into thinking you are trying to leave him. He’s finally let you out of Dewlight Pavilion (you’ve learned that trying to escape the dreamscape is pointless, so you’ll take your freedoms when you can), and this is the first reaction you’re met with? Being dragged to his office as soon as you returned and invaded, prodded, and violated by the Harmony?

The pressure around your temples tightens another fraction, and you cannot stop the pained cry that escapes you. Rainbow streaks cloud your vision and practically pull the words from your mouth. “I was with friends! We were at the Dreamjolt Hosterly for a couple drinks, that’s it!”

Sunday merely hums as he stands and pads towards you, taking a position at your back. You’re unable to turn around to face him, but you can feel the weight of his presence, the promise of his power, as he wraps a hand around the back of your neck.

His breath tickles the shell of your ear as he leans in and whispers, “Liar.”

One word chills your blood to ice. “I’m not!”

The grip around your neck tightens in tandem with the pressure in your head. “Do you really think you can evade me, (Y/n)? My gales are perched in every region of Penacony, and THEY are by my side. THEY see all, hear all, know all.”

As if on cue, the Harmony rips through your consciousness, and it takes all your willpower not to pass out. Exhausted, you involuntarily lean back into Sunday’s hand, which seems to please him. “Now, tell me the name of the man who dared to touch what is mine.”

Clenching your eyes shut, you shake your head. You’re out of breath and stumbling along your words. “He was just being friendly, and he was drunk, we all were, and all he did was kiss my cheek; it was a dare, and I swear to you, Sunday, we’re just friends—”

“(Y/n),” Sunday interrupts. “His name.”

The finality in the Family head’s words sends your heart plummeting. You feel your resolve slip as the Harmony tightens its grip and goes in for the kill. You speak the name aloud, barely a whisper, and know that you’ve just delivered the man’s fate.

In your half-conscious state, you barely register Sunday removing your cuffs and scooping you into his arms. He tucks you into his chest bridal-style, his wings fluttering across your face. “You did well, my angel.”

“Please,” you breathe, your voice wobbly with tears, even as you feel the Harmony retreat from your senses—for now. “Don’t hurt him.”

Sunday merely leans his head down to place a kiss along your temple. “Enough of that,” he scolds. “The only man you should be thinking about is me. After all, it is an angel’s duty to obey their god without question.”

And Sunday is, if anything, a vengeful god.

For that night was the last that you ever saw your friend. Death in dreams was your only reality.

[star2fishmeg]

https://www.tumblr.com/star2fishmeg/763241713597890560/i-need-luke-in-a-dainty-chain-with-my-initials-on

Can I request this with Luke please

ʀɪɢʜᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ, ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ

[2.8k] Pairing | Luke Hughes x afab!reader Summary | Luke’s so down bad he loves watching y/n defend him, but he loves calming her down more Warnings | Suggestive w/sexual themes, slow burn-y, established relationship, a lot of making out, swearing, alcohol, arguing  Authors Note | @stayg-0ld I DID IT I COULDN’T RESIST! Me and Sim cook.

How much awkward standing would it take for the hint to be dropped? Y/n was right next to him, leaning over the bar and ordering her drink and Luke even gave glances over to her as if to present interest in her and not the women flirting with him. His mind drew a blank on words, eyes jumping around the bar hoping to find something else to focus on other than the uncomfortable situation he found himself in. His teammates were too occupied at the pool tables, his girlfriend was trying to order a drink and no awkward smile of his was working. 

“Hey, Curly? I like your chain, the little letter charm is very pretty, especially under these lights.” Their giggles suffocated his personal space.

“Yeah, they sparkle like your eyes.” Another chimed in, pressing her shoulder into his arm. He knew very well that his eyes were not sparkling under the red neon lights, he knew his sweat across his forehead and temples was though. 

Luke’s fingers fiddled with the necklace, backing impossibly closer to y/n figure, “Thanks, they’re for, um, someone really important to me, my girlfriend actually. It was an anniversary present.”

He would’ve been fine with shooing the women away normally. Usually, he would be with the guys, but these women had been following him like flies most of the night and his excuses were wearing thin, haggard to be precise. The only card he had left was the girlfriend card and even that wasn’t steering them away. 

“Awe, sweet. We don’t bite, why don’t you join our table? We’d love to get to know you.” One of them batted her eyelashes, not that Luke thought anything of it. 

“Um, no thanks. I’m all right, I’m with my girlfriend so I’m happy here.” He replied, lips pulling into a straight line, breathing heavily and hoping the bartender would serve y/n her goddamn drink already. It took everything in him not to shoot out some snarky comment that awaited on the tip of his tongue. 

Y/n heard everything, ears perking up the second her stomach twisted sick at the nickname given to him. The same nickname she’d been listening to them throw around amongst each other the whole night as if she didn’t exist at all. She knew he was crying for help, his back couldn’t have been more pressed into hers, so close it screamed desperation through the sweat soaking his polo shirt. She knew he was sick of ushering them away, politely and now she finally had her drink, she could have her fun. She didn’t enjoy her boyfriend being followed, but she did enjoy watching flies scatter. 

She turned around, her drink to her chest and tucked herself into his side, Luke wrapping his arm around her waist and hand on her hip firmly, thumb rubbing the fabric in comfort. 

“Lu, who the fuck are they?” she asked her smile as fake as her polite tone, calling it more passive-aggressive. Her eyes scanned both women, especially the one pressed into his side, but quickly backed up when Luke pulled y/n into him. Of course, the woman knew she’d overstepped a boundary, she wouldn’t have backed up if she didn’t think so, but her friend had a fire in her eyes that y/n knew all too well. 

"I dunno, babe. They said my chain was pretty and then I tried explaining how pretty your initial look on it.” He replied, his muscles relaxing with her presence and his gaze softening on her. He pressed a gentle kiss to her head, heart slowing.

The woman fueled by fire scoffed, her nasal voice unfortunately audible over the bar’s buzz, “Nice try, you don’t need to save Curly over here, we weren’t gonna do anything except maybe get a number.”

Y/n exhaled deeply, she wasn’t jealous, no, she trusted Luke entirely and knew he wouldn’t even think about any other woman but her. The chain around his neck said so, the chain with the charm he kissed before every game, the charm he fiddled with for comfort, the charm with the letter of her first name. This feeling, this feeling was fuelled with adrenaline, the energy rushing through her system, and she ran her tongue over her top teeth.

“All right, come here.” Y/n wagged her finger, “I’ve had enough of you bitches.” 

She led them away from the bar, towards a table in the middle of the place but in her defence, it was crowded and any chance of trying to find somewhere more secluded was thin. Luke leaned against the counter, Dawson appearing next to him with an almost empty glass clutched in his hand, just as intrigued as Luke when they both watched her figure take both the women away.

Inaudible words spat from y/n’s mouth, the liquid in her drink sloshing with every hand gesture thrown as the three of them argued, the music and buzz of the bar just muffling them. Luke’s lips pulled into a lovesick grin, watching the way she chewed the women out, his eyes catching the recipients of her irritation and finding amusement in the way their faces dropped in shock, realisation hitting them that he really was in love with her, deeply, like he had two big heart eyes fixed on y/n. Did she need to be that aggressive with them? Possibly not, but y/n had enough of being followed, disregarded and heard their comments bite at her, watching them try and hover around Luke after he’d told them to go away. 

A warm, fuzzy feeling swirled in Luke’s stomach, he never admitted it out loud often, but y/n’s possessive nature made heat rush up the back of his neck, goosebumps along his arms. Her knitted brows, witty sentences and every time she held his arm or glared at anyone who dared even to try and shoot something such as a flirty look had his heart skipping beats and a crude, rousing feeling tingling over him. Maybe he liked feeling like he belonged to someone, maybe he was just slightly submissive like that and liked the necklace showing he was claimed, or perhaps the dominance in her tone just hit all the right places. His jeans tightened, hands sliding into the pockets subtly to rearrange himself for decency, he couldn’t help but let himself be a loser for her. 

“Is that…y/n?” Dawson leaned over to Luke; eyebrow raised at what he was watching. One of the girls, the one with the nasal voice, poked her finger towards y/n harshly and Dawson could just make out the words ‘fucking puck bunny’ leave her lips. His eyes jumped to Luke’s face, but all the twenty-one-year-old offered was a shit-eating grin with eyes directly forward. “You’re enjoying this? Luke, people are starting to stare.” 

He knew he should’ve stepped in a while ago, but the whole situation had his stomach flipping up a storm of butterflies and contorting his lips into a smug smirk. He knew he didn’t need to save her, she was fighting her battle proudly, running his dainty chain along his thumb while he remained watching her like a hawk. His eyes followed the way a bit of her drink swirled up the side of her glass and plummeted to the floor, splashing over one of the women’s shoes. He pressed the charm to his lips, taking it between his lips as the pad of his thumb continued to slide along the metal, his eyes becoming half-lidded and his chest fizzling in excitement. 

He nudged Dawson gently, both men watching y/n toss the rest of her drink over the nasal-voiced woman, "That's my girl…all mine." 

“She’s a keeper, all right.” Dawson chuckled, eyebrows raised at her fire and amused with how one of the women made eye contact with Luke as if asking for help.

Luke just grinned, the charm still toying in his fingertips as the three women argued with voices raising, and it was amusing until y/n was shoved backwards slightly, harshly, as a threat. Y/n breathed heavily, running her tongue over her teeth. She really hadn’t meant for her firm word to last this long and end in an argument and the loss of her drink, but some people just couldn’t seem to get the hint that not every man they meet at a bar wants them, and they were still persistent in that Luke was interested despite the way he looked at her. She was shoved again as if to be provoked and on reflex y/n’s arm raised, palm flat and adrenaline burning, the nasal-voiced woman’s face was in perfect distance, and she drew back her arm.

But the hit never landed. Luke jolted from his position, chain dropping from his lips and pushing off the bar, snaking through the bodies and sweeping her over his shoulder in almost one clean motion, “Luke! Put me down, we’re in public! I was in the middle of something!”

“Oh, baby, I know, and as hot as it was, I think you made your point.” He grinned, weaving his way to an empty corner at the other end of the bar, the area nearest the wall where nobody favoured due to how gloomy the lighting was. Sliding her body off his shoulder, he sat her on a bar stool, hands secured on her cheeks, thumbs soothing her cheekbones to reassure her that he was with her through and through until the end of time and no woman could replace her. 

Luke tilted her head to look up at him, a comforting quietness to where they were, the music significantly louder in the distance than in the abandoned corner. He broke the silence, voice low but lips twitched into a smile, “Fuck babe, you’re so hot when you’re angry, have I ever told you that? Had me in a trance back there.”

"Not angry, some people just need to keep their hands to themselves and your name out their mouths." She grumbled, her fingers wrapping gently around his wrists and thumbs rubbing over his skin in return, swinging her legs with knitted brows.

"They weren't touching me, though." He quipped, his grin morphing into his smirk, eyebrows raising slightly as his chuckle rumbled in his chest. 

"They would though, it's always the arm, squeeze the bicep. Then they lean into you like they can't use their own legs, laugh at everything, use their eyes to flirt, say that you're strong and have pretty eyes and men are so easy, so it works." She rallied, rolling her eyes at him. One thing Luke fell in love with was her stubbornness, even when it rivalled his. Y/n was a winner in everything; she always tried despite slim chances. 

"But you didn't do that?" He nudged her legs apart, standing between them and closer to her and finding a sweetness to her huffing.

"Didn't need to, I had you the moment we met.” She kissed his palm, looking up at him through her lashes, watching his breathing deepen.

Luke, coming closer to losing this battle to calm her down, ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, "Yeah well, it didn’t and wouldn’t work on me anyway, unless it was you..."

"Yeah, you're whipped, I know, Lu." 

It took everything in him not to slide his thumb into her mouth, have her fumble from this venom-spitting spree and watch her eyes roll to the back of her head while words melted into deep moans. 

"Can't blame me for falling for a pretty girl who knows how to fight." He removed his hands from her face briefly to brush loose hairs out of her eyes, her gaze igniting a rising heat up his neck and to his face, flushing his cheeks pink. His hands returned to her cheeks, cupping them again with a gentle touch.

"Well, I would have fought if you’d let me. I just don’t get how they couldn’t comprehend in their feeble brains that-"

With a low chuckle, Luke dipped down, firmly and abruptly pulling her into a bruising, open-mouthed kiss, almost knocking the air from her lungs and pushing her back to the edge of the bar counter, asking no permission, just his tongue finding hers to ask her into a rhythm and hearing her moan softly, her muscles relaxing into him. Their tongues lapped against each other’s, saliva building and wetting their lips with her grip around his wrists loosening to soothe up and down his forearms. A fizzling pleasure swirled in the pit of her stomach, warm and pooling into her underwear. She couldn’t stay disgruntled, not when Luke kissed her stupid, head numbing into a dizzy spinning the longer and more eager he latched his mouth to hers, his groans rumbling from his throat. For the sake of her peace of mind, he hoped the women from before could see them and watch them make out until drool trickled down their chins and they gasped for air at the corner of the bar while they sipped cocktails and moved on to his teammates. 

He was the one to pull back gradually, eyes locking with her wide, glossy ones as her mouth quivered to speak but he’d swallowed her words entirely. With his fingers on the bottom of her jaw, keeping her head tilted up at him, he asked her one simple question that had her melting into the floor,

"Gonna be a good girl f'me now and calm down?" He rasped, gaze steadying on hers, stroking her cheek with his thumb. She nodded, stunned and focusing on his lips moving, how the corners of his mouth had a slight upturn in the corners, and how spit glistened when it caught the red lights. “God, I am so fucking happy I’m yours, fucking beautiful.” 

She’d never been so shocked in her life, heart pounding in her chest but now for reasons of her boyfriend proving his ability to calm her down. She was surprised at herself too, how easily it was to calm her down and all it took was a kiss to shut her up from her useless rambling and release all the frustration. It was pointless rambling, after all, she knew she was Luke’s and Luke was hers, the adrenaline was just potent, and she needed something to clear her head. With his arms around her, holding her like she was a diamond, with that endearing, lovesick puppy look of his, nothing else mattered anymore and all she wanted was to dive back into him. 

Y/n’s hands clasped his shirt collar, balling the fabric in her fists as she yanked him back down, reconnecting their mouths and tangling tongues once again, desperately, humming loudly as her legs wrapped around the back of his knees to hold him in. Her teeth tugged on his bottom lip, catching him whine and glide his hands to her waist, squeezing until she licked back into his mouth.

“Love you,” she mumbled against his lips, hands sliding from his collar over his shoulders and to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his curls and tugging, “Lu. Please don’t stop.”

He didn’t care where he was anymore, or who was watching. One hand moved from her waist to lean against the edge of the counter, pushing her body further back and his kiss was so dizzying, that she ignored that ache from the wood in her spine. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, the atmosphere silent the harder he kissed her, lips stinging slightly and panting every time they briefly disconnected for air. 

Millimetres apart, their breaths fanned cheeks and foreheads pressed together. Luke brought his hand off the counter, settling on the back of her neck, goosebumps running along her skin.

"Gonna kick off more if it means you kiss me like that." She giggled airily, pulling away and looking up at him, nails brushing his scalp.

He relished her voice like it was his next drink, letting it soak into his system and release all the weight from his body, “Mmm, do that more and I might just eat you out instead, get you screaming about something else.”

“Is that a standing offer? Because if you’re gonna use your tongue like that I know other places that need attention.” She batted her eyelashes, giving him large, wet eyes with fingers trailing down his chest and stomach, arousing his craving until they hooked around his belt loops. 

He loved the height difference, looking down at those captivating eyes he adored and the way they softened for him, how they widened ever so slightly when she looked at him, how her lips unconsciously curled upwards and how the way one look had him turning into mush. His lips perked up, a lazy smile on his face, wanting nothing but to be kissing her like that all day. Y/n didn’t do that for anyone else and even though she told him that she loved him every day, Luke always got butterflies when she’d give him the heart eyes.

Luke bit his lip slightly, nodding and taking her hands in his own before letting her hop off the barstool. Kissing the top of her head, his arm wound around her shoulders, guiding her through the bar, past his friends and the women from before, to the main door, his chain with her initial glistening the whole way.

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[darlingdaisyfarm]

texting Stan and Ford headcanons

smut version

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Stan Pines

✧ Stan is the kinda guy who thinks emojis are a scam, but somehow, he figured out how to use the "thumbs up" and "money bag" emoji. so, expect a lot of those in your chats.

✧ his text tone is rough, a little misspelled, typed like he's yelling even when he isn’t. Half of his texts are in all caps, and he absolutely does not care about grammar. but he gets the point across, always.

✧ you’re getting messages at 3 am about some ‘brilliant’ scheme to make a quick buck. he’ll send, “LISTEN, doll, what if we made... GIANT… glitter-filled eggs for easter? Tourists'll go NUTS." you reply, half-asleep, with “Stan, ily but go to bed." and all you get back is a “🤬 YOU GOTTA THINK BIGGER!”

✧ Stan sends those weird chain messages he swears are from some “hotshot businessman” that’ll make you rich in a week. and when you don’t respond immediately, you get a: “Fine, Miss Doubtful, see you when I’m rolling in gold.”

✧ there are whole days where he just floods your phone with random, blurry photos of some new Mystery Shack "artifact" he found. It’s usually junk he picked up at a garage sale, like a “haunted” ashtray or some knock-off painting that’s “probably ancient.”

✧ If he’s feeling sappy (and tipsy): you might get a rare “thinking bout you, sweet thing” at 2 am. but if you try to call him on it the next day, he’ll just be like “Didn’t say that. You’re makin’ stuff up.”

✧ when he’s really riled up about something, though? then his messages are just. . . a stream of caps-lock curses, mixed with misspelled attempts to describe whatever nonsense he just got himself into. you just sit back and let him rant; he’ll cool off eventually.

✧ and the voice messages are something else. they sound like he’s talking through a fan half the time. one minute, he’s rambling about how tourists are “the dumbest suckers on the planet” and the next, he’s ranting about how “bigfoot definitely broke into the shack last night!"

types of messages Stan texts: 

"So… whatcha wearin’? 😏"

“Hey doll, I just found a penny on the ground! Maybe today’s my lucky day… hint hint ;)"

"I’d say somethin’ romantic, but I think my brain just shorted out. You’re a little too cute for a guy like me."

"Just tried that new café downtown. Ordered coffee… tastes like they filtered it through someone’s laundry. You’d hate it. Wanna come mock it with me?"

"Not gonna lie, I miss that face of yours. So what’re we doin’ about it, huh?"

“Again missin’ that cute little smile of yours… maybe you could send me a pic to remind me?”

"Wanna help me scam the tourists today? I’ll split the loot with ya… maybe ;)”

"You wouldn’t believe what I caught Ford muttering in his sleep. Man’s like a walking encyclopedia, even when he’s unconscious."

“Got any plans later? Thought maybe we could… y’know… not have plans together."

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Ford Pines 

✧ hehehehe he’s like an old-school emailer who’s just now getting the hang of messaging apps. texts in complete sentences, full punctuation, like he’s drafting a dissertation.

✧ He sends you whole paragraphs at random hours, talking about some discovery he’s made, like he’s reporting directly to NASA. you’re like, “Ford, it's just a weird-looking squirrel." and he's already typing another essay about its "possible interdimensional origins."

✧ once in a while, he’ll send you a message that says, “Are you awake?” at, like 3 am followed by a string of thoughtful yet completely bonkers hypotheses. you find it cute, though, his mind never stops, not even for a second.

✧ If he’s feeling bold, you might even get a “hypothetical” confession out of him: “Hypothetically, if one were to develop... strong emotional attachment to a certain person... how would one proceed?" You tease him about it the next day, and he gets flustered, “It was purely scientific curiosity."

✧ Ford isn’t big on emojis, but he likes the brain and alien ones, using them poetically. he’ll sign off texts with a single brain emoji, like it’s his version of a little goodbye wave.

✧ on really rare occasions, he’ll send a voice message. they’re always way too long, and it’s usually him whispering so he doesn’t wake Stan up. he goes on about cosmic rays or “gravity anomalies,” his voice dropping lower when he gets excited. you live for those moments

✧ and if he ever texts you a “good night,” you just know he’s been up thinking about it for hours, trying to figure out if it’s “appropriate.”

types of messages Ford texts: 

“It’s been approximately 3 hours, 12 minutes, and 23 seconds since our last conversation… not that I’m counting or anything. Just… miss you."

sends a meme about science nerds “Us. But mostly me.”

“My hands ache from writing… though perhaps if it were writing about you, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Do you think about me too, or am I the only one utterly ruined by this… whatever this is?”

“I’ve been thinking about that book you lent me... 🤔 It’s honestly so much more interesting than I expected, thank you for recommending it."

"I don’t know how to work this... But I managed to send a meme! It’s not the worst thing I’ve done, I suppose? 

“I did it. I fixed the telescope. Finally. Now we can actually look at the stars like we’ve talked about. :)"

"I hope you’re feeling okay today. I noticed you seemed a little stressed the other day. Don’t forget to take care of yourself. :) It’s important."

"If I could rearrange the periodic table, I’d put U and I together. :( Sorry, nerdy joke... :’D)”

ps - I CANT THEYRE SO CUTE BOTH I WANT TO SMASH THEM AGAINST THE WALL

lmao if someone wants, i can write some spicy types of chatting with them :)))