#i have three days off that's a lot of time

[madamechrissy]

Would you come with me?

MASTERLIST

Part One -Part Two (coming soon) - Part Three

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x F! reader

Summary: You have been Satoru's best friend for such a long time, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. What!?!? Well, Satoru has to take a wife as he's running the Gojo corporation, and what better way to get them off his back than 'marry'? In name only, just best friends living together for a year to calm them down, sounds so perfect and uncomplicated, right!!! Well, living with Satoru Gojo makes you both question everything, is this fake marriage feeling... real? and can you just be friends after this?

CW: NSFT-MDNI- Going to have smut at the end (three parts!) lots of sexual tension, light angst but mostly fluffy, friends to lovers AND marriage of convenience trope lol. Explicit sex, oral sex, it's me so a breed kink, gonna be a miniseries, Satoru is a lil sweetie and a lil freaky ass- falls hard, ya'll both down bad.

Preview- click above for the chapters!

“You love me, right?”

You blink a bit, as you stare at Satoru Gojo, he’s been your best friend all throughout high school and even before you’ve known him. You’re sitting across from him, while he’s sipping boba with you, his Gucci shades perched on the bridge of that straight nose, a smirk on his glossy lips. You tilt your head curiously at him, of course you love Satoru, but he only pulls this when he needs a favor.

“What’d you get into this time, Toru?” You demand, he gasps then, affronted, a hand to his chest.

“Excuse me, missy? I’m just asking if you love me.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back in your seat in the little cafe. “Of course, you know I love your goofy ass.”

Satoru takes off his glasses, those swirling blue eyes wrecking you as they have all these years, usually you can put up enough of a barrier not to let them consume you, but apparently you haven’t today. You watch those snowy lashes lower when his eyes bore into you, swirling storms of bright blue, you have to snap yourself out of it.

Being Satoru Gojo’s best friend wasn’t for the weak.

“How much you love me, hmm?”

“What is it you need, an alibi?” He snorts then, shaking his head and wrapping his lips around the straw.

“M’not Suguru, shit… no, I need a really big favor. Like… the biggest favor, but if you agree, I can really make it worth your while.”

“Okay this isn’t a mobster movie, Toru, what is it?” Satoru looks down then, long fingers swirling around the top of his cup, before his eyes snap back to yours.

“What if I said I’d help you with all that student loan debt, and buy you a shiny brand new car?”

“I don’t want your money, I do fine okay?”

“Your car is old enough to drink.”

“Fuck off!” Your glare makes him snort in laughter. “It is not, it’s like… not even old enough to vote… I don’t think.”

“It’s old, sweets. Say you also had a place to stay, for free?”

“Satoru this isn’t Pretty Woman-”

“I love that movie!”

“Satoru! What are you getting at!?” You’re crossing your arms then, raising a brow at the lanky man across from you, whose legs are spread wide in his dark blue dress pants, he’s pulling just a bit at his silky black tie.

Satoru has taken a huge role recently in his family business, the conglomerate that owned a million different things, you know how much he detests it, but once Satoru graduated college his family pushed it more and more. At this point he was thriving, doing most of the work with his father taking much more of a back seat, his health starting to deteriorate.

You and Gojo spend more time together than ever, you know he needs his friend, especially with Suguru having left for some time, the two of them not together was always hard on him. You’d been friends with both of them, but Suguru seems to have left and found his own calling, swinging through to see you both from time to time, but much is different since those days at Tokyo high.

Not you and Satoru though.

For the longest time you pined away for him, but you never made that move, aside from one stolen kiss in a closet during seven minutes in heaven, and Satoru had it bad for you all of Junior and Senior year, but the two of you never risked it, your friendship. And now you’re glad to have him in your life, but it’s hard to even think of someone serious when he’s so brightly and firmly in your life.

“This is a huge favor I need, it’s… a lot to ask.” Satoru murmurs softly, you tense a bit, brows drawing together.

“What’s wrong, is everything okay?” Your voice is a low hum as you murmur, he nods just a bit.

“Yeah it’s fine just… I’m being forced to choose a bride, and they have many candidates.” He laughs humorlessly, and your heart breaks for him.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Satoru. I thought you’d have longer?”

“Yeah, I wish.” He runs a hand through his silky white locks, looking down for a moment, lips that always smirk or maybe pout actually frowning. “I need to just get it done, get em off my ass.”

“That doesn’t sound like you, why not tell em to fuck themselves, hmm? Where’s my Toru!?”

“He’s exhausted.” He swipes a hand across his face, and you lean closer, hand on his leg, his eyes sliding back to yours.

“Do you want me to help find someone? I have a lot of good friends in high families… find you someone not money hungry, not a psycho? How much time do you even have?”

“That’s not what I'm asking.” He puts his big hand over yours now, sighing, leaning closer to you. “I’m asking if you want to.”

“If I want to, what exactly?”

“Marry me?”

“What!?” He chuckles then, but even that sound is exhausted.

“You forget you’re from a top family, nah it’s not the Gojo clan but…”

“Satoru…”

“Just for like a bit? To get em to leave me alone, let me gain some more power. All for show, and I’ll help you with anything, I promise.” He’s clutching your hand, and suddenly the room feels like it’s spinning.

“Wh-why me? We… you… I…”

“You’re my best friend, it would be like being roommates damn near. You could… do your thing as long as you’re discrete.” He murmurs, you want to laugh then, as if you’ve done anything in a couple of years now. “And I would be discrete, respectful, we’d just be in name, appearance. We’re best friends, it will be a piece of cake, and most of all… I trust you.”

You try to digest all the information, blinking and trying not to think the insane thoughts that come with it, but you fail. “But won’t they want… an heir?”

Satoru’s cheeks flush bright pink now. “We don’t need to… I’d never ask you to do that, ever I swear. I’d never be an ass like that.”

You feel your heart racing as you shove back all of the images you should not have for your friend. “I know, I know. But… they’d-”

“That’s the thing, a year or so and they’ll back off. Give me time to fix some mistakes, with dad being sick… I’m not saying I won’t miss him, but how he is running shit? No, I know I can make things better, take down these shitty higher ups who are so greedy. You just could give me more time, and I promise I’ll do anything I can to help you too.”

“It’s insane, this is marriage!” You blink a bit, shifting, his hand now brushing back a lock of hair from your forehead, a familiar gesture that now takes on something more intimate.

“It can just be for show, we’ll be the same best friends as always. I have no one I can imagine even living with but you, maybe Suguru but… he’s not a girl.”

“He has that long silky hair?” You both laugh a little, softly then.

“He sure does, but… you’re prettier to look at.”

“Flattery? Stop that. It’s insane, and… how would we even explain it in such a rush?”

“We’ve been friends forever. Who wouldn’t believe that we got together? It’s even easier. I mean, maybe a couple kisses and things for show, but… you’ve kissed me before, remember?” He’s grinning wide then, you shove at him playfully. “That closet was cramped, hmm?”

“Oh shut it, that was so long ago. I mean, if you really need me, you know I’ll do this for you. I don’t expect you to go all out on anything for me in return.” Satoru pauses now, watching how the light streaming in through the large cafe windows hits your pretty face, as you explain to him that you’d want nothing in return for this!? For this huge imposition on your life.

You have always been the sweetest, best friend he has had, so important to him he’s never dared to cross that line, and he knows it will tempt him to no end to do this, but he also knows he can trust you. “Let me just take care of a few things for you, you can almost see it as a job. There will be events, meetings with the other leaders, trust me. Like anything I can do, you’ll be helping me so much.”

“Alright.”

“What!?”

He’s hugging you tightly to him, you giggle a bit, breathless. “Yeah, I’ll do it… I need a nice car though, Toru. A BMW?”

“I’ll get you ten BMWs.”

“Jesus, no. Silly boy.” You giggle as you look up at him, your best friend, but then your heart falters when he’s just a bit too close.

“Should we practice kissing now?” He teases, voice husky.

“Satoru, you're insufferable.”

He pouts now, and you swallow down the fact that you don’t know if you can even handle kissing his lips.

First part here

permatags: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @loafteaw @aldebrana @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 gojo: @haruhatake @strychnynegirl @jinjen suggestion from the lovely @bunheadusa

[infamous-if]

Infamous is 2 years old!

So sorry this was late! Funnily enough, I was deep in the Infamous trenches that I didn't remember until now! Ha! Two years is a long time. I didn't think this would turn into anything when I posted the intro post.

Infamous was born from my desire to read a band IF after a weekend binging band-related stuff. You can imagine I was gutted that there was a hole of music/band related stories in this community. The (amazing!) band stories were either demo-less or dead. Once that happened a seed of an idea was planted in my head. One I couldn't shake off :,) and thus Infamous was born.

500k words, three chapters (lol) and nearly 10k of you later (woah) and here we are! I love Infamous with all my heart and I'm happy to see that it's touched some of you, no matter how big or small. The art, the fanfic, the questions and funny musings in my inbox; they give me a lot of energy and motivation. I'd probably have given up on this a long time ago if not for how kind and supportive this community is to me. You guys do not have to welcome me the way you do every day. Or be so gracious and patient with my ramblings and stupid ridiculous jokes and Savina teasing but you are. I am very lucky. Thank you.

I wish I had something prepared but as we know I am not a very organized person. Instead, as a way to celebrate, I've uploaded an extended Chapter 4 snippet. For those on Patreon who have already read it, I did extend this one—not by a lot but still. It's something new.

There will be typos, errors (if there are game-breaking errors, lmk!), skipped scenes, some paragraphs/convos not fleshed out, and empty choices because I am lazy and fill those out near the end. (I usually write a big picture skeleton first and then map out the scenes in deeper detail). Plus, I don't want to spoil too much haha

I hope you enjoy it. And thanks for loving Infamous! More to come!!!

Amy <3

[tarotsoul]

ghost in the wind — part three

summary: as feelings progress and truths unfold, you're left with a decision that could end your entire existence as you know it. the mother has a path for every soul, perhaps this was where yours was supposed to end.

warnings: swearing, mentions and brief descriptions of sexual abuse, consensual sexual themes, mentions of death and suicide.

word count: 5.8k

series masterlist

Feyre Archeron could never begin to imagine the pain and horror her older cousin had faced in the mortal lands. Rhysand hadn’t shared that image, hadn’t shared the memories he’d witnessed when he took some of that pain away from you. 

She didn’t need her mate to share those visuals. Not when she felt every ounce of anguish through their bond. And every day since then, she had not been able to forget it. 

Another two weeks had passed since your arrival, three in total of your being in the Night Court, and you were finally beginning to work through your trauma. 

The offer had been there to find your own place of residence, to have that independence if you so wished. But after speaking with Feyre and Rhysand, after learning it was in fact Nesta who had imposed the leave Y/N be rule… you realised just how much you loved living in the House with your family. 

Your friends. 

So when you’d finally accepted Mor’s desperate pleas to take you shopping and fill your empty wardrobe…

“You’re going to need another dresser.” 

You blinked, taking in the mess around you. Your entire closet was stuffed to the brim with dresses, blouses, sweaters, coats…

And the pile on your bed…there was no chance of those articles of clothing fitting in the closet too. Nesta was right, you definitely needed another dresser. 

“Rhys is going to lose his shit when he finds out how much we spent.” 

Your eyes widened at Nesta’s words, not quite picking up the teasing tone she spoke in. Mor shot her a look and threw a sweater at her face. 

“She’s kidding,” Mor reassured. “My dear cousin has more money than sense. This won’t have even made a dent in his wealth.” 

A relief, but that guilt began to creep its way into the pit of your stomach nonetheless. You were ashamed to admit that while you had fun shopping with Mor and your cousin, you hadn’t even taken a moment to realise how much everything had cost. 

Nesta threw herself onto your bed, right on top of the throng of clothes you needed to find a place for. “I’m thinking we raid Rhys’ wine cellar tonight…”

A gleaming smile radiated off Mor’s face in agreeance and they both turned to you with upraised brows, expectant. 

You pursed your lips, an apologetic smile on your face. “I told Rhys and Feyre that I’d babysit Nyx tonight.” 

Nesta huffed and threw herself back on the mattress again, clothes bouncing and crinkling as she did so. Mor raised another brow, as if that wasn’t a good enough excuse. 

“So? I’ve gotten drunk while watching Nyx loads of times.” 

Nesta seethed at her. “One, that’s my nephew and I never want to hear you doing that again. And two, Y/N’s tolerance to alcohol won’t be as strong as ours. Two glasses and she’d be borderline incapacitated.”

Despite the slight insult, a laugh bubbled up your throat at just how right she was. Because you’d never even drank a sip of wine in your life, and Nesta knew that. 

“I’m surprised you don’t have plans with Azriel…” 

Mor was prying, you knew that. But you had no control over the heat that made its way across your neck and face. 

“We’re just friends.” It wasn’t a lie. You’d spent a lot of time together the past couple of weeks, and he was one of the only people you felt truly comfortable around. 

Mor gave you a knowing look. “Mhm, tell that to his shadows.” 

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nesta scoffed, sitting up again. “Az’s shadows are basically an extension of himself.”

Mor hummed. “They don’t do anything unless Azriel commands it. Or sometimes, they’ll do something based on his emotions or thoughts. They’re so friendly with you because Azriel likes you.” 

Your cheeks burned. You hadn’t realised his shadows touching you was a product of Azriel’s emotions. And the more you thought about it, there hadn’t been a time since you met him that they hadn’t touched you in some way. 

You didn’t say that, though. No. Azriel clearly had no qualms about other people noticing, but that did not mean you were willing to gossip about it. 

You did not need to allow silly fantasies to root their way in your mind. Azriel was your friend. And you were okay with him only wanting you as such. 

Within an hour, Mor had disappeared to tend to her own duties and just as Nesta was about to leave for hers, she grabbed your wrist and motioned for you to look at her. 

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

She didn’t need to say anything more. Those words were enough—more than enough. She saw you, she recognised everything you had been through and everything you did every day to overcome it. 

I’m proud of you. 

The last and only person to have ever told you that was your mother. 

And because you saw her too, because you remembered fhe young mortal woman she was before her own struggles of turning Fae and adjusting to her new lifestyle, you found yourself saying, “I’m proud of you, too, Ness.”

Nyx had been wonderful to look after that night. 

You’d gotten all the cuddles and boyish giggles, the beautiful little smiles and a few stinky diapers to go with it. You loved every moment with the little babe, and when Rhys and Feyre returned from their night off early in the morning, you offered to sit with him again whenever they needed it. 

But despite how fulfilling and wonderful it had been, it had also hurt. You wondered if you’d ever be blessed with the opportunity to carry and birth your own child. Wondered if you’d ever even find someone to want you in that way. 

Especially within Prythian. 

It was another late night for you, though your reading sessions had taken you from the lounge to the library. And you no longer spent them alone. 

Azriel sat on the couch opposite you, his nose deep in a book as you watched him. In the past week, you’d spent a lot of time together. It ranged from walks into the city to sitting and reading in the library until early hours of the morning. 

You’d grown accustomed to his presence, his scent often able to calm any anxiety or qualms you felt. He had noticed, of course, he wasn’t a Spymaster for nothing. But Azriel did not mention the change in you whenever he was around. 

He basked in it, in the way you appeared so much more comfortable with him. You weren’t afraid to speak up, to ask questions or acknowledge whatever was on your mind. 

You were coming out of your shell and it warmed Azriel’s heart to know that he was somewhat of the cause for it. 

“What does salacious mean?”

Azriel blinked repeatedly as your voice broke him from his thoughts. Salacious? His throat tightened. You’d often ask for definitions of things you were unsure on, sometimes even asking how to pronounce words you had never come across. 

But salacious? 

“Are you reading Nesta’s romance novels?” He quirked a brow. 

Your lips involuntarily pouted at him, your own brows furrowing just slightly as you rested the open book back into your blanket-covered lap. “Yes. Why?”

Anxiety creeped its way into your stomach, rooting deep into your flesh from the inside out. Reminders of how this used to go flashed through your mind and suddenly, it felt like you were back in the village, back in the mortal lands and living with Rafe. 

A tendril of darkness peaked at the corner of your vision and you focussed on it, watching it slowly dance across your knuckles and weave between your fingers in a calming manner. 

Shadows. Azriel. Library. Velaris. Safe. 

And just like that, the anxiety un-clawed its roots and crept away. 

Azriel nodded ever so slightly to the book, knowing exactly what had just happened with you but acting as if he didn’t. “Salacious means…having inappropriate interest in sexual matters.”

There was no hiding the heat on your cheeks—the way it burned your soft skin. You tore your gaze from his as quickly as you could, unable to contain your slight shame and embarrassment. 

But Azriel did not mind one bit. 

Azriel had secrets. He supposed that being the Night Court’s Spymaster, it was to be expected. But these secrets were different from the others, something he kept locked tight in his mind for the past month. 

And it wasn’t the secrets that had him moving closer and spending all of his time in the lower level of the House. No. That was very much you and your presence and whatever it was in your soul that called out to his. 

He couldn’t stay away—though, it wasn’t like he even tried—for that pull was far too strong for even his willpower. 

He had suspicions. Suspicions of a golden thread that started in his chest and ended in yours. He knew it was far fetched, knew he was only hurting himself by entertaining the complete insanity of the idea. 

You were human. Mortal. And mortals didn’t have mates. He told himself so every day, and right after, like clockwork, he countered his own sound advice with the one thing that had been troubling him the most.

Because what mortal could plant and bloom a patch of tulips with nothing more than a thought and a touch. What mortal could speak so clearly to the earth and create life right before another’s eyes. 

Despite the possible threat that could pose for his court and his family, Azriel had kept that tidbit of information to himself. Just for now. Just until he could make sense of it. Then, and only then, would he bring that information to light. 

Because Azriel did not feel any ounce of danger or ill intent from you. He did not feel anything but warmth and intrigue and that godforsaken sensation when you grew excitable over something. 

He couldn’t take that from you. Not when you were finally coming out of your shell, finally talking and laughing and going as far as joining him and Cassian for training twice a week. 

“If sex makes you uncomfortable, there are other romance novels without that.”

Heat warmed your skin again. Shadows dared to intertwine with your fingers. 

“No, it’s not that.” You played with his shadows, allowing them to caress your skin. “Sex doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I’ve just never had a good enough experience to understand much.”

He didn’t push, didn’t ask further questions. You wouldn’t be embarrassed for this, for something that was not your fault. You wouldn’t cower anymore, hide what you felt or thought. No longer would there be repercussions for speaking your mind. 

So you spoke again. 

“Rafe was the only person I’d ever…it’s just different to read it, to have it described as something enjoyable.”

Azriel’s knuckles turned white. Something enjoyable. He’d never experienced it to be anything but. His soul almost cleaved in two at the thought of what you’d endured. 

Azriel dared to glance at you again. “Sex with the right person can be very enjoyable. It should be nothing but beautiful.”

He stiffened then, blood thumping in his ears. His shadows stilled, noticing the shift in your scent just as their master had. Sweet, all consuming arousal, and Azriel did not miss the way your thighs pressed together in impulse. 

He swallowed thickly. 

You broke his gaze, your own heart thumping sporadically as you stared at the pages on your lap. You couldn’t help your mind wandering to thoughts of him, of experiencing that with him. You knew it was wrong. So, so wrong. 

“The thought of being intimate like that with someone new…” You couldn’t find the words to express the fear and anxiety that came with that thought.

Azriel listened intently, breathing deeply. 

“I want to experience life the way it should be experienced. Not the way others have pushed it upon me.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his book on his knee. “You control your life now, nobody else. If you want something, despite how wrong that desire may feel at first, take it.”

You wondered then if he could see into your mind as Rhysand could. If he could feel that shift in the air. If he could smell it on you. That want and desire. You would not apologise for it. Not anymore. 

“But if it feels wrong, is that not my guts way of warning me?” You countered. 

Azriel smiled, just barely. His knuckles still white. “It’s your guts way of protecting you. Because you’ve never experienced anything beyond what others bestowed upon you.”

Gods above. 

An ache fluttered in your chest, just above your breast and you absentmindedly rubbed at it, disrupting the neckline of your shirt. Azriel’s eyes squinted at the exposed skin, at the mark that adored your flesh. 

“Are you hurt?” His tone was primal, protective. 

You paused your movements, following his gaze. “Oh, no.” You pulled your shirt a little lower. “Just a birthmark.”

He needed to compose himself, needed to stop allowing his mind to wander about other areas of your concealed skin. He felt like nothing more than a big brute. 

Your soft, airy giggle woke him from his daze and he looked over to find tendrils of darkness caressing any inch of your skin that they could. Gods, if he didn’t have a leash on his emotions around you, how could he control his damned shadows. 

“It’s like they have a mind of their own.”

They didn’t. But he couldn’t correct you. Not without exposing the fact that they only fed off their masters emotions and desires. Not without exposing the fact that Azriel wished he was the one touching your skin and not his shadows. 

He swallowed again, throat dry. 

“Nesta told me that they’re an extension of yourself. That they only act if you will it.” You didn’t know why you said it, why you thought you had the right to speak that truth. 

But you would not apologise, even as Azriel remained silent for a few moments. Partly out of shock, partly in awe. But that was another thing he would not speak aloud. 

“Sometimes they can act on behalf of my emotions. My desires and wants.”

You dared to meet his honey eyes. “And that’s what you want?” You were breathless, a feeling in your stomach that you’d never once experienced before. “You want to touch me?” 

Neither of you knew where this confidence had come from, but Azriel did not question it and you did not apologise. 

He shouldn’t say it, shouldn’t repeat the words that echoed in his mind and soul and body. But, Gods…he could not seem to regain any semblance of control when he stared into your eyes. He could not lie to you, could not hide what he felt. 

“I want to do a lot of things.” The admittance was barely audible, nothing more than a breath he’d been holding but you heard it all the same. As though you’d demanded the words out of him. 

You couldn’t look away, even if you tried. Your entire being was encapsulated by him. Your chest heaved, legs ached. The shadows slowly left your shoulders and neck, returning to their previous position at your fingers. 

“But above all, I want you to be comfortable. Happy.” 

Something compelled you to stand, the shadows seemingly guiding you to their master as your book toppled to the couch. He watched with a hungry gaze, one full of faltering self-control. 

If you want something, despite how wrong that desire may feel at first, take it.

Take it. 

Take it. 

“I’m comfortable with you.” 

The shadows moved like a breeze between you both, tugging you closer and closer. Nothing else mattered, not in that moment. Not when your soul felt like it was singing, like it was exactly where it longed to be. 

Azriel stood slowly, towering above you once at his full height. You strained your neck to meet his gaze and he bent his to come closer. You could feel his breath dance with yours, could feel his hard chest press upon your soft one. 

No part of you felt nervous, no part of you felt unworthy. 

But Azriel…he didn’t know what to do. For weeks he’d been dreaming of this moment, dreaming of the taste of your lips, the touch of your skin. He slowly raised a scarred hand to caress your warm cheek, and you didn’t cower or shy away from his touch. 

A test, perhaps. To see if you really could handle the intimacy of another male so soon after what you’d endured. You didn’t falter, didn’t break his gaze. He wanted you, more than he ever wanted anything else before. 

“What you went through…”

“I don’t want to talk about what I went through,” you cut him off. “That was then, this is now. I don’t want to live in the past.”

Take it.

Take it. 

Your lips…so close to touching his. 

The shadows swirled in delight, excitement.

Azriel knew this wouldn’t be just a kiss. This wouldn’t be meaningless. He felt it, in every part of him, he felt the way your entire being sang to his. He wanted to lay his soul bare before you. 

He itched to brush your hair behind your ear, to hold you and taste you. But Rhysand’s voice echoed through his mind, beckoning him for his assistance. He closed his eyes, huffed out a breath.

“Rhys is calling for me.” 

Azriel stepped away, removed his palm from your skin. You swallowed, stepping back and letting your eyes fixate on the rug beneath your feet. He cleared his throat, struggling to reign in those shadows of his. 

“I’ll come to you tonight…we can talk then.”

But had Azriel waited just a few moments longer, had he given into the urge to brush your hair from your face, he would’ve noticed the slight point that had formed at the top of your ears. 

Azriel didn’t meet you in your chambers that night. And you didn’t see him the next morning. Or the day after that. 

Cassian had mentioned that Rhys sent him on a mission. That he would be back in a few days. 

But something was wrong, you could feel it in every inch of your body. An ache that only got worse with every passing moment. You tried to ignore it, tried to relax in a hot bath with soothing lavender oils. Nothing relieved the pain. Nothing soothed the ache.

And when you left your bathroom and found your once round ears now pointed, and a trail of tulips following in your wake, your legs carried you toward the kitchen before you had a moment to consider it. Cassian and Nesta sat at the table, giggling over their breakfast when you stumbled toward them. 

“What’s happening?” Your panicked tone caught their attention, eyes wide as they stood and took in what lay before them. 

From the stone ground, moss and grass and flowers bloomed as though you stood in the middle of a field. Daisies and buttercups sprouted in your hair, roots of trees tangling around your limbs. 

Everything was so loud yet muffled. Like every word was screamed in your ear but somehow underwater as Cassian called out frantically to Rhysand. Neither of them went near you, even when Rhys flew through the open balcony doors, Feyre in tow. 

They looked at you with nothing less than concern and fear. 

“What in the Gods is happening to me?!” You demanded. 

Rhysand held Feyre back as she attempted to near you, his gaze locked on you as he assessed the situation. But it wasn’t the flowers or grass or roots that he watched. It was you, and the way your crescent-moon birthmark glowed something violet. 

Rhys had known, had suspected something lay dormant within you. From that moment he entered your mind, when he gazed upon that luscious field that seemed to call to you with promises of something new. 

He’d never witnessed such before. Not in the most powerful of Fae had he ever stumbled across that. 

With a very careful step forward, his gaze demanded yours. Feyre had told him of your mother, of her death and your marriage to Rafe. And his voice was soft when he finally asked the question that had been on his mind ever since. 

“What happened the night your mother died?” 

The world went still, cold. Feyre whirled to him in protest. 

“Rhys—“

“—it was a house fire.” 

All eyes turned to you, to the patches of bloom that haltered their growth. 

Rhysand took another step closer. “Where were you?” 

“I—“

A heat unlike any other licked at your skin, waking you from your peaceful slumber. A heat so unwelcomed that you bolted upright in a sheen of your own sweat. 

You could hear the wood of your cottage crackling under a burning flame, and smoke quickly infiltrated your room. You coughed, attempting to swat it away as you squinted in the darkness. 

“Mama!?” You called out, panic stricken in your voice and body. 

Fear began to cripple you, began to take away any sense of self preservation. You couldn’t leave your bed. Your door now engulfed in flames, you screamed. 

“Help! Someone, please help!”

No one was coming. This was the end. You couldn’t move, couldn’t get to your beloved mother. A shrill cry, unlike anything you’d ever heard before, split your heart in two. 

A scream of pure agony and fear tore through your throat, your eyes clenched shut as you gave your body over to the fire. 

Only the next breath you breathed was clean and cold. And your sheets were no longer beneath you, no. Now you laid on the rich soil outside of your home, your fingers rooting themselves into the dirt. 

You screamed and sobbed, unable to do anything but watch as the fire claimed your home and your mother. 

You were sobbing, collapsed to the ground as you struggled to breathe at the memory. 

Rhysand dared another step closer, kneeling before you now and his eyes held such sorrow, such remorse. 

“Y/N…” he spoke softly. “Was your mother ever accused of being a witch?” 

Nesta seethed, threatening. “Rhysand, that’s—“

“How do you know that?” Everything felt very, very still. No one should have known that. No one of these lands should have known that. 

Rhys didn’t answer your question. And despite the sound of large wings breezing through the sky, you did not look away from the High Lord. Not even as Azriel rushed into the House and his heart sunk at what he bore. 

“The day I entered your mind and took some of your pain away, I felt something. Something within you that I have never, in my 500 years of life, felt before.”

Azriel took a step closer. He should have said something when he first noticed the flowers. Because now, whatever power you had…it was consuming you. 

“I’d like to try something,” Rhysand proposed. 

You struggled to keep your breathing even. “What is it?” 

Another step closer, a warm hand on yours. 

“I’d like to enter your mind as far back as it will allow me. Just to see if I can find something.”

Violet eyes watched yours. “Find what?”

He squeezed your hand in reassurance. “Something to make sense of this.”

A moment of pause, to take in your surroundings. The flowers and soil had sprouted to cover the entire expanse of the lounge floor, your friends and cousins standing just beyond the brush of it. 

Eyes flickered to something hazel. Azriel. He stood in the soil, flora coating his ankles and he struggled to keep a tight leash on the shadows that fought to reach you. 

You looked back at Rhysand. 

“Will it hurt?” 

He shook his head. “No, not if you don’t resist.” 

That suddenly sounded an awful lot like your past. Memories of Rafe pinning you to the bed—scolding, reprimanding, promising no pain if you didn’t resist. 

This wasn’t like that, you had to remind yourself. You were safe. They only wanted to help. To understand. 

Azriel stepped closer, ignoring the silent warning that Rhysand whispered into his mind. A scarred hand out held, you took it. And Rhysand took that moment of distraction to enter your mind. 

The first memory he saw was one from just days before. You and Azriel reading in the library, the shadows that swirled your fingers and arms, the near-kiss that escalated into nothing. 

He dug deeper. The next, of you and Azriel again, exploring the city where you left a trail of green and brown tulips in your wake on the embankment of the river. 

Deeper and deeper, until the memories showed you living in the mortal lands. A blow to the face, to your stomach and your head. Rafe seething above you as he shouted and belittled you. 

Deeper, to a memory of your husband pinning you to the mattress, of his body crushing yours as he stole everything you never offered. 

Every memory Rhysand met, you re-lived them. 

A little deeper and he was watching you at the Archeron household, helping Elain plant seeds, watching Feyre paint, reading with Nesta. 

Deeper and deeper he went, passing the memories of the fire, of your mother, until he found exactly what he was looking for. 

“She is my child too, Selenthia. You cannot keep her from me.” A voice you did not recognise. A memory you did not recall. 

“For her protection, I will do what I must.” Selenthia seethed, coddling you closer to her chest. “No one can know what she is, or she’ll be hunted for the rest of her life.”

The unknown male huffed. He was beautiful. Tall and lean, strong and commanding. But there was something about him. Something not quite right. 

“So you plan to lock her away for the rest of her life?”

Selenthia bared her teeth. “I would never lock my child away. She will live her life as a mortal. I won’t subject her to a life like mine or yours.”

A moment of silence. “You cannot hide her from what she is.” He spoke softer now, edging close to peer at you, his daughter. 

“What do you plan to do when she first bleeds? When her ears point and her power grows—“

“That won’t happen.” There was no room for discussion in Selenthia’s voice. She placed a finger over your heart, a familiar violet glow permitting from her skin to yours. 

“What are you doing?” That male’s voice, cold once more. 

“I’m burying her power. So long as this wyrd remains on her skin, she’ll be safe.”

Selenthia pulled away, just enough to take a look at the mark that marred your skin. A mark two shades darker than the rest of your flesh, the shape of a crescent moon and no larger than a fingernail. 

“There. Nothing more than a birthmark.”

Rhysand retreaded from your mind, panting and shaking. Tears streamed down his flushed face, your own skin staining with silver, too. 

“What is it?” Nesta demanded, daring a step closer. 

But those tulips and daisies and buttercups…the soil and grass and roots, they all began to sink into the ground until nothing but the florals in your hair remained. 

“My mother…she…she was a witch. A healing earth witch. And my father—he…”

“Your father was Fae.” Azriel breathed, his eyes focused on the point of your ears that peeked through your hair and flowers.

“He was of the Night Court. A High Fae male.” Rhysand added gravely. 

Azriel’s hold on the shadows loosened and he allowed them to caress you, comfort you. Your hand never left his. 

You pulled away from Rhysand, clutching at your chest—at that crescent moon you always thought was a birthmark. Your mothers protection all along. 

“When you crossed the wall into the Fae lands, your power tried to break through. It was your mothers mark that had been keeping it buried with you all these years.” 

You dared a look at your cousins. But they looked at you with nothing but sorrow and anguish. No fear. They did not fear you, they did not pity you. In their eyes all you could see was longing. A longing for you to no longer live in such agony and hardships. 

“Our mothers were sisters. Does that mean—“

“I don’t think so,” Rhysand cut you off. “If they held the magic you do, I believe their power would have shown by now. They were Made. So it’s possible the Cauldron could’ve interfered with it if that were the case.” 

It was too much. All of it. Reliving those memories again, seeing your father… You couldn’t do this. Couldn’t have magic and powers. You could not be half Fae, half witch. 

It would be easy to give up. It would be so easy to ignore it until it killed you. So easy to just let go of everything. But a pounding in your soul begged you not to. Begged you to fight with everything you had. Begged you to live. 

“Burn the mark.” 

All attention snapped to you, flickering from your face to the mark on your chest that finally stopped glowing. 

“Are you insane?” Nesta seethed. 

You looked at her. “I don’t think I’d be far off to guess that if I don’t burn this mark, this…power will consume me entirely. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be so lost because I have no idea who I am. This is who I am, whether I like it or not. I won’t run anymore.”

Feyre stepped closer, crouching to your level and taking your spare hand in hers. Azriel still held tight to the other. “If you wish to burn it, it will unleash whatever power you have at full force. You don’t have any training, any control over it.” 

You felt sick to your stomach. “I don’t want to die, Fey.” 

And that was enough to enrage Feyre in a way she’d never once felt before. “You are not going to die. Do you understand me?”

Azriel squeezed your hand, begging for you to look at him. You couldn’t. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him looking at you any different than he had three days ago. 

“Rhys, fetch Madja. We will burn the mark in a controlled environment. Where any fallout can be contained.”

You shook your head, not willing to risk a single soul because of your selfish decision to live. 

“No,” you said. “Drop me to the mountains and I’ll burn it myself.”

Nesta scoffed. “Oh, you are insane.”

You seethed at her. The first ounce of anger you’d truly shown. The first time you’d ever directed it at anyone but yourself. 

“This isn’t your decision. I will not risk anyone. Azriel can take me to the mountains and you can all keep your distance. At least until it’s safe.”

Until it’s safe. As if you knew for certain you’d survive it. You truly weren’t sure you would. There was nothing more to discuss, your tone made that clear enough. 

“Fly me, winnow me…whatever. Just do it now before I change my mind.”

Within a blink, your body was shivering and you were no longer in the House of Wind. Shadows encased your entire body, darkness swarming every inch of you. You said nothing as Azriel held you, nothing at all as he flew you across Velaris and toward the highest mountain just outside of the city. 

Only when he landed, when he refused to remove his hold from you, did the darkness dissipate and hazel eyes gazed into yours. 

“I’m staying with you.” 

“No, you’re not. I won’t risk your life, Azriel.” 

He set you to your feet, holding your hands now to keep you close. A plea of desperation swam in his eyes, his entire body yearning to take you and find another way to fix this. 

“There is no other option. If I don’t burn this mark, I don’t know what my power might do. It might kill me, it might destroy this city. I cannot risk anyone’s life for mine.”

Azriel parted his lips to speak but you shook your head, squeezing his hands. 

“If I don’t survive this—“

“Don’t.”

“Please, listen to me.” Silver lined your eyes, blurring your vision. “If I don’t survive this, I want you to know how special your friendship has been to me. How much I care for you, for your family.” A sob tore through your throat. “And I am so incredibly sorry for burdening you all in this way.” 

You reached on the tips of your toes and pressed your lips to his. Warmth and love and the most raw emotion could be felt between you both. An apology for not having longer, a prayer that there would still be time. 

A fuse lit within the pit of your stomach, in the pit of Azriel’s. Tears stained your lips, stained his. In that moment, you were one. Whole, as though you always should have been. 

You pulled away first, forcing your hands from his hold. You took several steps back, blinking through the distorted vision and swiping away and evidence of the fear that crippled you. 

A puff of violet darkness misted beside Azriel as Rhysand winnowed to the mountains. Pain flicked through his eyes, regret and the same sorrow you saw in your cousins. 

You did not meet his gaze. 

“Summon a fire.”

He did as you asked. And handed you a blade. 

You did not grant them another look, did not give into the pleading in your mind to watch them leave. Or else you would’ve seen Rhysand drag Azriel off that mountain. You would’ve seen the anguish on the Shadowsingers face. 

Alone. As you had been your whole life. Though the weeks spent in Velaris had given you a taste of what could’ve been. You’d treasure those memories in the Hereafter. Those and the precious ones of your late mother. 

For they were all you had left. 

You did not allow another tear to fall. Not as you hovered the blade over the flame, not as you tugged your shirt down and took a deep breath. 

For if all you were ever meant to be was a ghost in the wind, you were content to know you’d reunite with your mother soon. Where you would no longer feel such pain. 

You didn’t want to die. But if this was all the time you were fated to have, then so be it. Better you than someone else. 

“Keep them safe.” A whisper to the winds, if they deigned to listen. 

With a final breath, you pressed the scorching blade against the mark on your skin and the entirety of your captive power unleashed upon the mountain as your body allowed it to consume you. Until you saw and heard and felt nothing at all. 

From below, the city shook, a thundering boom and a gust of aftershock and pelting mountain debris that blew the Inner Circle back. 

Then there was silence. 

And Azriel’s soul bellowed. 

a/n: so a LOT happened in this chapter and there is still a lot more to happen, i'm hoping i can fit it into two parts but it may be stretched into three, we'll have to see!! i'm so grateful for all the love you guys have been giving this series and i am so excited for you to find out how it all ends!!

if you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a like and reblog, your feedback is always appreciated <3

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[sailorsoons]

Hush (c.sc)

Pairing: Incubus!Choi Seungcheol x afab reader

Summary: You can’t seem to sleep, but the strange man in the bar that you can’t visiting promises he can help. 

Word Count: 6,239

Genre: Supernatural

Type: Smut, PWP

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Warnings: Mentions of insomnia including side effects like exhaustion, dysfunction, derealization, feeling out of it/in weird headspaces, time is not supposed to feel linear in this and it’s supposed to feel kind of liminal-space in places, reader is often confused/thoughts are a little scattered and feels out of it because of proximity to an entity, there are creepy vibes in this, Seungcheol doesn’t always appear the same/mentions of feeling like in danger or on edge around him instinctually, explicit language, sexually explicit content including unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, a lot of spit and cum, nipple play, reference to subspace or an adjacent, choking, oral (f. and m. receiving) multiple orgasms, biting and scratching, I wouldn’t categorize this as explicit dom/sub dynamics but there are power dynamics in some places, mean Seungcheol in spots, like very light humiliation if you squint in one section, overall just…. Weird ass vibes and recurring scenes/reader not remembering things. 

A/N: This was originally requested for my Haliween writing event by @daechwitatamic on my old blog. Hopefully you all enjoy sleep demon Seungcheol just as much the second time!

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Nothing feels real. Your eyes burn as you stare at the computer screen, the letters and the buttons on your email becoming blurry as they swim out of focus. The dull sounds of your office feel as though they’re several rooms over, faint hums heard through walls of plaster. 

Pushing away from the desk, you head to the break room, in desperate need of coffee. You know drinking caffeine this late in the afternoon will only further exacerbate your insomnia, and yet you need it if you’re going to get through the next three hours at work.

You’ve hit the point in your endless nights of no sleep where everything feels off, like you’re experiencing things in the third person. You’re there but you don’t feel like it, navigating your day knowing that it’s you doing and saying things at work without really registering that you’re doing or saying those things. 

Coffee hisses from the machine into your cup. You stare at it, vision going unfocused again as the smell wafts up to you. Time passes. You stand and stare. 

Someone walks into the room, bringing you back to reality as you look over your shoulder and see your coworker come in to fill up their water bottle. They raise their brows at you as though to ask if you’re okay, and you grin, gesturing to the coffee like that’s some sort of answer.

Really, you’re not okay. You have ventured past the threshold of tired into something else entirely. Something that is lesser than, something base and nearly inhuman. 

Derealization. It’s a word your doctor had used when you described what it was like for you after so many nights without sleep, the disconnected feeling to the world around you. Even as you walk to your desk, it doesn’t feel real. You logically know that it is, that you exist in a specific time and space.

And yet… you remain buoyed in that space, totally untethered from everything around you. Floating. Lost. 

Back at your desk, the words on the computer screen blur again. Come into focus. You type and email. The keyboard makes sounds, but you don’t really register them. 

At some point, the day ends. 

A bright neon sign burns against the darkness of the alleyway. You blink rapidly, holding your hand in front of your eyes to block out some of the light. Looking around, you don’t see anyone else. The sound of the city is muted and far away, but you smell the burning of fuel and the smell of stagnant water under a dripping window air conditioning unit. 

You don’t remember walking here. You lower your hand as your eyes adjust to the burning pink above the door. Looking down at your clothes, you’re at least relieved to discover you put on jeans and a t-shirt before going out on an adventure out on the town.

Police sirens wail in the distance. You pull your phone out of your back pocket, thankful you brought it. 

“Fuck,” you swear, flashing the time. It’s 3:33 in the morning and you know immediately you’ve sleepwalked your way to this strange, unfamiliar alleyway. 

It’s a vicious circle: go days without sleep feeling like you’re a step away from death, or take just enough sleep medication to knock you out but make you sleepwalk. 

Shoving your phone in your pocket, you look back up at the neon sign, reading it for the first time. Hush. A shiver goes down your spine at the name, eyes flicking to the blue crescent moon attached to the pink cursive. 

There’s a magnetism about the sign. Your eyes dropdown to the door under it, a nondescript metal entrance to what you think is a bar. There’s nothing to indicate that it is a bar, just a gut feeling. Your gut feeling is also whispering at you to go inside, to open the door and step into the cool space of Hush. 

Licking your lips, you take one hesitant step forward. The tingling in your spine increases and you feel static in the air. Heart racing, you take another step. Then another. Before you realize it, you’re at the door with your hand on the knob, cool to the touch.

With a deep breath, you pull the door open and step inside. 

It’s even darker inside than the alleyway. Gentle piano music plays somewhere in the room and you swivel left and right, trying to gain your bearings as your eyes adjust. When they do, you see a very small room with a single piano in the corner, two booths, a bar at the back, and three stools pulled up to its counter.

A single person sits at the bar. You hesitate in the entrance, drinking in the stranger. It appears to be a man in a dark purple suit, his broad shoulders hunched over where he leans against the wooden bar top. You can’t make out much else beyond the wide shape of his shoulders and narrow taper of his waist, but you can see the crimson hair that glows like flame underneath the dull, flickering light above his head.

“You gonna stand there all night?” His voice is soft, a gentle pur. He turns his head to the side, his profile shadowed. “I don’t bite.” You hear the smirk in his voice when he tacks on, “Not often, anyway.” 

Carefully, you approach the bar. There doesn’t appear to be a bartender of any sort or anyone else in the bar, for that matter. You realize that there’s piano music but no pianist, but decide not to focus on it as you enter the man’s line of focus. 

When he looks at you, the world stops. It’s like stepping into a bubble, everything else ceasing to exist. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end and you feel your pulse hammer in your throat as you stare at him, unable to take your eyes off him.

He’s beautiful but it’s not that. His eyes are dark, but there is something more there. Something swimming in the depth of the darkness that you cannot place, something ancient and curious and awake. You feel pinned under his gaze, eyes darting to drink in the rest of his features: soft, pouty lips the color of berries, sharp jawline, thick, angular brows. 

Stunning. Dangerous. Alluring. 

“Hi,” he says, mouth stretching into a grin. His teeth aren’t sharp, but you have the distinct feeling that they should be. “You’re a pretty thing.” 

“Um, hi.”

“Can’t sleep?” 

“How can you tell?”

His grin spreads, wicked and cutting. “I have a feeling about those things.” His dark eyes drop to the seat next to him. “Have a seat. Maybe I can help.”

Tentatively, you sit down next to him. “You can help me sleep?” 

“What if I said I can?” 

Sitting next to him is oppressive. His presence weighs down on you, a physical entity that you can’t see. Static buzzes in your mind and your thoughts feel a little sticky, like just being close to him disrupts your frequency. 

He smells like jasmine, immediately soothing. You feel your eyes grow heavy as you blink a few times, settling on the stool as you angle yourself toward him. 

You’d misjudged his size when you walked in. He’d seemed broad when you first walked in, but you don’t think you fully understood the width of him. The weight of him. Or maybe it just feels that way when you look at him, your perception of him flickering like a bad TV signal. 

“Tell me about your sleep problems.”

You shrug. “They’re like any other sleep problems.”

“Not all sleep problems are the same, Pretty.” 

“I suppose that’s true. I don’t really know what causes them. I just… can’t fall asleep and then I start getting worried I won’t sleep, so it makes it worse. I want to sleep so bad but it’s like… wanting to sleep only makes it avoid me more.”

“Mmm. Sleep is a fickle thing, isn’t it?” 

“My doctors give me meds but the normal dose doesn’t work and the stronger dose… makes me walk around.” 

He pouts. “You poor, sweet thing.” 

Something about his sympathy makes you flush. You sulk, looking down at the countertop as you pick absently at the peeling varnish on the wood. “I know,” you murmur. “I just want to be normal.” 

“I can help. If you want it.” 

You glance at him. His eyes are dancing dangerously. Half of you screams yes while the other screams run. You’re only vaguely aware that you’re in a bar alone with a strange man who knows you’re sleep deprived. No one would help you if you screamed. You don’t know where you would run.

His dark eyes seem to read your thoughts and he laughs, shaking his head as he turns to pick up his drink from the bar. “I’m not that sort of creature.”

“How would you help me sleep?”

“Are you accepting my help?”

His question hangs in the air between the two of you. The piano music has stopped, but you don’t remember when it did. Overhead, the light still flickers. On. Off. On. Off. Onoffonoffonoff-

“You’re under no obligation to accept.” His voice is kind. Warm. Soft like your blankets, cozy like your bed. “You’re always free to make your own decision.” 

“I want help,” you agree slowly. “I really do.”

His red mouth curves into a smile and again, you’re struck by the thought that his teeth should be sharp. “Good. I’ll help you, Pretty.” 

“What’s your name?” 

“You can call me Seungcheol.” You give him your name and he tilts his head, drinking you in. “I know.” 

“How are you going to help me sleep?”

Seungcheol finishes his drink. You watch him swallow thickly, suddenly fascinated with the way his throat bobs as he does. The smell of jasmine is overwhelming as he leans in, stopping an inch away from you.

The static increases. You feel your blood buzz pleasantly. 

“Close your eyes for me,” Seungcheol murmurs, looking at you through silky lashes. “I promise everything will be okay.” 

For a moment, you stare at him, the air charged. He doesn’t hurry you along, content to study your face with that same uncanny darkness swimming in his eyes. 

Taking a deep breath, you do what Seungcheol says, and you close your eyes. 

Sunlight wakes you up. You roll over in your bed, squinting up at the window. Your blackout curtains are open, letting the morning beam in on where you’re tangled in your comforter and sheets. 

Sighing heavily, you close your eyes again, content to lay in the warm sun. Just as you start to drift to sleep again, you recall a pair of dark eyes and fiery hair. You jolt upright, heart hammering as you remember the exchange. 

Snatching your phone from your nightstand, you open your walking app to look at where the hell you went last night, but there’s nothing there. Frowning, you pull the sheets off your body. You’re in pajamas and fuzzy socks that you don’t remember putting on. 

Hauling yourself out of bed, you lean halfway into the laundry basket to claw through your clothing. None of the things you wore last night are there, so you go to your closet to wrench the doors open and search. 

The shirt from last night and the exact pair of jeans are hanging, completely unworn. Your frown deepens as your confusion rises. Turning away from the closet, you open your phone again and try to get any sort of sense of where you went last night, but there’s no text threads. No signs you used public transportation. Nothing in any of your tracking apps that indicate you left at all. 

“Was it a fucking dream?” you mutter to yourself, perplexed. 

Sitting down on your bed, you try to look up Hush on the internet. You can find nothing in your city that indicates a bar or establishment like the one you discovered Seungcheol in. You even try social media to look him up - Reddit, neighborhood pages, anything to try and find the stranger from last night.

It seems Hush and Seungcheol don’t exist.

And yet… you don’t remember going to sleep last night after he agreed to help you. And you feel rested today. 

Puzzled and a little freaked out, you give up your search. A dream is a dream, and you’re content that you finally feel a little less exhausted and a little more awake. You’ll take the win, getting up to start your day with a little bit of pep in your step. 

By midday, you’ve mostly forgotten about the bar and the man in it, only remembering those dark eyes and that red hair. 

Heat creeps up your spine. You nuzzle against the warmth behind you, the smell of jasmine coaxing you deeper into the embrace. You feel the vibration of laughter against your back, your nerves tingling as you feel feather-light fingers brush up your thighs. 

“Tired?” 

Immediately you know it’s Seungcheol’s deep voice, that same velvet purr whispered right in your ear. You shake your head no, suddenly not wanting to sleep at all. You press into him further, feeling the way his arms tighten around you as he chuckles, mouth pressing chastely against the spot under your ear. 

“Liar,” he teases. 

You pout. It might be true, but he could have the decency to pretend it’s not. You open your eyes and look up at him. His hair is like spilled blood in the dark of your room. The curtains are closed, blocking out all light from the moon and street, but your salt lamp still burns in the corner. 

Seungcheol looks like the devil in the low, orange light. He’s in a black t-shirt, which is somehow more deadly than the fine cut suit. Your stomach flutters and you squeeze your thighs shut when you realize his hands are brushing up and down your thighs, touch slow. 

“Thought you were a dream,” you mumble, words a little thick. “Thought you weren’t real.”

“Dreams can’t be real?” That makes you frown and he laughs, jostling you against his chest. His hands squeeze your thighs and you let out a breathy sound as he nudges you with his nose. “You don’t know anything about dreams, Pretty. Can I show you?” 

More than anything you want him to show you. Suddenly your desire for him outweighs any sort of sleepiness, your nerves sparking and coming to life as you nod helplessly against his chest, trying to lean as close as possible. 

“Needy,” he chides. He presses a wet kiss to your jawline and you preen, your head falling back against his shoulder. “I’ll go easy so you remember this time, alright?” 

“Cheol.” 

The nickname sounds familiar. Intimate. Like you’ve said it before - something tells you that you have said it before. You don’t remember where or when, but it’s with familiarity that you moan the nickname again as he nips at your neck, one hand drifting between your legs to pry them open. 

He murmurs praise against your ear when your legs drift apart, spreading to accommodate his seeking touch. You’re wearing shorts but it feels entirely too hot under the blankets pooled around your waist. You kick at them and whine, managing to get them down to your knees before he huffs and presses forward, temporarily bending you in half to toss them. 

When he settles back against your headboard, you follow him, turning your head to press your mouth to the corner of his. His lips twitch in a smirk, shifting to catch your mouth fully with his. 

Seungcheol kisses you like he knows how you like to be kissed - devouring, consuming, hungry. His tongue brushes against yours as he drinks you in as his hand presses between your leagues, applying pressure to your clothed cunt.

You whine into the kiss and he grins against your mouth. A line of spit connects your lips when you pull away panting, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. His fingers circle your clit gently and your hips buck in his hold against the stimulation. 

“Not enough,” you whisper. You grip his wrist with one hand, the other gripping the sheets to bunch them in your fist. “Cheol, please.”

“Hush,” he scolds, biting your jaw. His free hand comes up to your neck, gripping you under your jaw to angle your mouth back to his. “Kiss me.” 

You melt in Seungcheol’s grip. His tongue tastes sweet, his grip on you making you dizzy. Your thighs squeeze around his wrist as he works you up, his touch teasing and not enough through layers of fabric. 

He knows it’s not enough, content to string you along until you’re writhing against him, back shifting against his chest as you squirm. His kisses drift from your mouth to your jaw, open-mouthed and spit-slicked as his tongue darts out to taste your skin while he goes. 

Seungheol’s grip on your chin slides down toward the base of your neck, his fingers pressed tight against your pulse. You can feel your heartbeat slamming in his grasp as he bends your head away from him, lips attaching to the softness of your throat. 

His name escapes your lips in a whisper. He hums a pleased sound, tongue dragging up your neck to your ear where he nibbles. “So good for me,” he whispers. “I’ll reward you.” 

You follow with an urgent nod, pleased when his hand slides down the waistband of your shorts and underwear. When his fingers brush against the flushed, sticky folds of your cunt, you keen loudly, unable to keep it together.

“So needy.” You can’t tell if it’s an insult or not the way he growls the word against your ear, grip on your throat tightening. “Need my help that bad, huh?” 

“Yes, god.”

“I am not god,” he grinds out, voice dark. For a second, the illusion shatters and you glance up at him. His eyes are endless, an ancient thing looking back at you. You freeze in his hold, a prey caught in a trap. Then he softens, pressing a kiss to your brow. “Tell me what you need, Pretty.” 

“Hands. Need your hands.” 

A bolt of pleasure goes through you when Seungcheol’s middle finger circles your clit. Your nails dig into his wrist, leaving little crescent moons behind. His ministrations are leisurely, giving you what you want but not as fast as you want it. 

That’s Seungcheol’s game. He’ll give you what you want, only when he feels like it. You feel a sense of deja vu, realizing that you’ve been here before. Snatches of memories flash through your mind. They pass through your grip like sand, none of them firm enough to grab onto. 

“Missed you,” you mumble. “Can’t sleep without you.”

“Ah, there it is.” 

Seungcheol is pleased with your recollection. You can tell when he relents his teasing touches, fingers drifting down to press a single digit into your heat. Your stomach flips when he does, relief sweeping through you as he shallowly fucks you with a single finger.

It’s not enough but it’s better. You shiver in his hold, going a little slack in his arms, hips twitching. He’s content to have you like this, working your cunt slowly, watching your reactions as your breathing catches and restarts. 

“Feel good?” 

“So good.” You can barely get the reply out, words faint. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Pretty.” 

His kiss is soft against your cheekbone, at odds with the grip he still has on your throat. You feel his hand like a comforting weight, loving the feel of it resting against your pulse. He doesn’t squeeze or choke you, content just to hold you against him. 

Seungcheol pulls his fingers out, the wet squelch obscene. “Take this shit off for me,” he tells you, pulling at your shorts. 

His heavy hand rests on your collarbone as your hands shoot to your shorts. Hooking your thumbs in them, you shimmy down, lifting your hips with his help to kick them down your thighs and legs to the floor. 

Cool air hits your heat as you settle against his chest again. He nestles against your neck, fingers resuming the task of peeling you apart as he sinks his pointer and ring finger into you. You clench around him, loving the stretch and the feeling of his fingers pressing against your g-spot as he slowly strokes you, breath hot against your ear. 

Being unable to remember your previous encounter with him feels cruel. Seungcheol knows exactly how to work you toward your high. The slick sound of his fingers between your legs accompanied with his lips pressed against your neck drives you insane. 

Unable to keep still, your hips come up off the bed to meet his hand. The hand not fucking you to insanity slides under your shirt. Heat trails his touch. He traces the curve of your breast and your breath stutters, catching in your throat. His nails scrape against sensitive skin, moving higher until he drags his touch over your nipple. 

The heel of Seungcheol’s hand presses firmly into your clit. You mewl, thrashing against him, closer and closer to your peak. His strokes turn harsh, finger-fucking you at a brutal pace while his other hand tweaks your nipple, the pleasure-sting making you quake. 

“Come on,” he urges, voice deep. Sharp teeth scrape against your throat. “Come for me, Pretty.” 

Everything turns to static as you clench around his fingers. You squeeze so tight he can barely continue stroking you through your peak. There’s a high-pitched ring in your ears as you pant through it, vaguely aware that Seungcheol is muttering something against your ear that you don’t understand. 

As your orgasm fades, so do you. The world becomes soft at the edges. You feel Seungcheol’s heartbeat against your back and smell jasmine, but you slowly drift away from him, barely able to catch his growl of remember me next time before you’re gone. 

Cold granite countertop digs into your knees. You barely register the pain, one hand pressed flat to the counter, the other reaching behind you to tangle in Seungcheol’s hair. Your hot breath skates across the surface, the cool stone not enough to combat the heat of your skin. 

Seungcheol’s face is pressed as far as he can go into your cunt, the flat of his tongue dragging from top to bottom. You’re nearly catatonic, eyes rolling behind your eyelids as he fucks you with his tongue. 

He grunts when your fingers tighten in his hair, holding him close as he sucks harshly at you. He’s loud as he eats you out, his hunger something more demonic and fiendish than you’re used to. You don’t care, pressing back into him as he mouths at you. 

His hands firmly pry you open, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. You can feel the bruising way he holds you, uncaring as he works you toward another high, so desperate for it that you’re begging. 

Begging for what, you don’t know. None of the words that fall from your mouth really make sense. You’re a rambling disaster under the mastery of his mouth, and as you tiptoe the line of your high, it feels like you’ll never unscramble your thoughts again.

You come again, feeling the way you flood his mouth. He doesn’t care, growling low in his throat as his mouth becomes more insistent, fingers pressing into you even harder. Something takes over him in that moment, his grip on you so fierce that you think you might break.

But you don’t. You never do. 

“Pretty,” Seungcheol murmurs, cocking his head to the side. Your mouth aches where it’s stretched harshly around his cock, spit leaking from the side of your lips. His thumb brushes across the spilled fluid, grinning as he leisurely pops it into his mouth and sucks. “Such a pretty thing, mouth full of cock.”

You hum around him eagerly, shifting back and forth on your knees. He’s got you on the floor of your bedroom in front of your bed, hands linked obediently behind your back while he stands in front of you. His stomach ripples as he flexes his hips forward, driving himself deeper into your mouth.

Your throat seizes around him again and you feel yourself gag. He pouts and pulls back, letting you gasp for breath. Your mouth is a mess of saliva and cum, wet and sore and battered. You don’t care, looking up at him with watery eyes and sticky lips.

“So important to me,” he whispers, nodding as though to assure you. Your stomach flips and you shuffle toward him eagerly, mouth open. “So perfect for me.” 

Instead of using words, you stick your tongue out, eager. Seungcheol grins and the room darkens. There is a buzz in the back of your mind that you can’t place, ignoring the feeling in favor of watching him slowly slide back in, letting your tongue scrape the bottom of his shaft.

Seungcheol sighs, tilting his head back as he sets a slow pace, using your mouth as he pleases. He’s beautiful like this, all tan skin, heaving chest, sweat sliding down his neck, red hair damp. His eyes are closed but his mouth is open, cherry lips parted sweetly to show his sharp little fangs as he pants. 

So pretty, you think. Even with teeth sharper than they should be.  

You’re standing in front of a bar named Hush. The pink neon burns bright against the gritty night, hurting your eyes. Turning around in a circle, you notice there’s no one else in the alleyway. There’s a certain charge to the air, a hum that you can’t place, but grows stronger when you turn to face the bar again. 

A single door sits under the sign, closed and waiting to be opened. Chewing your bottom lip, you stride toward the door, unsure what’s waiting for you on the other side. 

With a hard yank, you pull the door open and step into the darkness of the room beyond. It takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the single, flickering light over the bar, but once they do, you see it’s a tiny room. A single piano sits in the corner near two booths, and there’s only one bar top in the back, a few stools in front of it. 

A single man sits at the bar but he’s facing you, leaning back on his elbows as he drinks you in. He’s in a purple suit that would look ridiculous on anyone else, and his red hair is bright enough to light the night like a flame. 

He cocks his head to the side, a wicked smirk on his lips. “Hi,” he greets. “Can’t sleep?”

“How can you tell?” 

“I’m familiar with these things.” 

He looks like a devil. You can’t place your finger on what exactly about his face makes you think so. His eyes are dark as the depths of the ocean and when he smiles, you swear his teeth are sharp. “Need some help?” 

You do need help sleeping. The doctors can’t help you. Therapy doesn’t help you. Something tells you maybe this stranger can help you. 

“Please.”

“It would be my pleasure, Pretty.” 

“Seungcheol,” you gasp, hand flying to his wrist to grip him. “Fuck, holy shit.” 

Fuck is absolutely right. His hand tightens around your throat, placed just right to make it harder for you to breathe. Your thoughts swim as he fucks into you, his sweaty chest sliding against your back as his strokes grow harsher. 

Your knees slide on the bed under the strength of his thrusts. He growls at you to keep up and you whimper, flexing your thighs to remain upright as he drives his cock into you at a pace that sends you hurtling toward your peak. 

“So fucking difficult,” he grunts in your ear. His teeth nip your ear lobe and you whine, intoxicated by the smell of jasmine and the tightening knot in your stomach. “You’re always so difficult.” 

You don’t know what he means by that, but you don’t think it’s the first time you’ve heard something like that from him. Your thoughts turn to liquid you come around him though, feeling the way you grip his cock like a vice, seizing in his hold.

Everything turns to nothing. You can’t hear, see or feel anything but static. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but squeeze and squeeze and squeeze.

And then you're gasping for air, lungs burning as you gulp it down. Falling forward, you crash into the sheets and into complete darkness. 

“Why do you come and go so often?” 

Seungcheol lifts his head from the bed to turn and look at you. He’s still naked and covered in a sheen of sweat, crimson hair clinging to his forehead. He’s on his stomach laying opposite of you, his head by your feet. 

Something sparks in his eyes at your question, his heavy brows pulling together, cherry lips downturning. “I only come as often as you let me.” 

“What do you mean?”

His face twitches in what you think might be annoyance. “You have a complicated relationship with me.” 

“We have a relationship?” 

He snorts and turns away from you, resting his chin on his arms as he settles back down, closing his eyes. He reminds you of a cat - a particularly dangerous cat, you think. “I suppose. Most people couldn’t say they have a relationship with me, and yet I keep letting you invite me back.”

“Invite you?” 

“Hush. Stop asking questions.” 

“But I don’t… understand.” 

“Good,” he quips. “Because every time you do, you send me away only to invite me back in.” 

“Come on,” Seungcheol teases. “You wanted it, so do the work.” 

Your thighs ache. A pitiful sound leaves you as you nod, putting your hands on Seungcheol’s shoulders as you lift your hips, legs shaking. You’re exhausted and burned out, but the ache you need filled as you slowly slide up his cock drives you to keep going. 

Dropping back down in his lap, you feel sparks. Your movements are slow. Seungcheol’s hands are tucked behind his head where he leans back on your pillows, fathomless eyes watching you as you ride him, a little uncoordinated and weak from the exertion he’s put you through all evening.

“Cheol, my thighs,” you protest, instead trying to grind into him. He raises a brow and you pout. “Please.”

“No. Come on, Pretty, you can do it. You can fuck yourself on my cock and make yourself come. Come on.” 

“Cheol.”

“No. Do it yourself.” 

Gritting your teeth, you let your annoyance fuel you. Anger burns right alongside pleasure as you find the strength to do exactly as he tells you. Leveraging your hold on his shoulders, you continue to spear yourself on him at a steady pace and slowly, your anger is replaced with bliss.

Seungcheol feels incredible. He’s hard to take, stretching you to the max and at this position, he’s so deep that you swear you can feel him in your stomach. You keep going, nails biting into his skin and drawing blood but you don’t care. 

Fire burns in his eyes as he watches you. You stare right back, seething at the way he’s making you do it yourself, a little bit of humiliation stinging the edges of your pride. You can tell he thrives on this, satisfied that what you want outweighs any sort of desire to be stubborn.

Somehow, he always wins like this. Always manages to get you to do what he wants. He’s sneaky like that, knowing just what button to press to get you where he wants you. 

Sometimes you feel like you’re a puppet whose strings are connected to his fingertips. 

Either way, you manage to drive yourself to an orgasm, shuddering around him as you seat yourself fully in his lap, throbbing around him. He lets out a long groan, eyes fluttering shut as he struggles to keep his composure.

Leaning back against his knees, you catch your breath. He’s still painfully hard inside of you, and when his eyes open, you see his hunger isn’t sated. Your heart lips when he surges forward, fast as an adder. His mouth crashes into yours hungrily and you let him have you, eager at the flutter in your stomach as he shifts, altering the angle. 

“I’m not done,” he mutters, kisses turning into sharp bites. “So hush while I take what’s mine.” 

Something wakes you up from sleep. It’s too dark in your room to see, but your heart is hammering and your hands are quivering. Leaning toward your nightstand, you search for your phone. All you feel is cool wood, no device anywhere.

The dark is oppressive. You don’t remember your room being this dark, the blackout curtains serving as a good device to keep out the city and streetlights, but never so much that you feel swallowed whole. Lost. Devoured.

A tingle buzzes at the back of your neck. You freeze in bed, looking into the never ending darkness. Silence roars in your ears, the outside world completely removed. You can’t even hear your own pulse or breath, the quiet so heavy that panic starts to rise in your throat.

You can’t see but you know you’re not alone - can feel the solid press of something else in the room. 

Too afraid to make noise, you resume the search for your phone, fingers moving slowly across the top of your night stand. You can’t find it. 

Something presses into the mattress at the end of your bed. You feel the dip under its weight but can’t hear the creek of springs. You give up the search for your phone, snatching your hand to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut.

It’s a dream, you tell yourself. It’s a dream it’s a dream it’s a dream it’s- 

The thing in your room moves closer. A scream works its way up your throat where it gets stuck, lodged and unmoving. You squeeze your eyes shut harder, fireworks of color exploding behind your eyelids as you do. 

“I know you’re awake, Pretty.” The voice is so low you can barely make out the words. They scrape against you like claws. “You can’t keep doing this,” it says, almost a sigh in its voice. “You know what this is. What I am.” 

“Go away,” you whisper, voice weak. “Leave me alone.”

“Don’t do this again.” 

“Go away, Seungcheol.” 

There’s a low growl that you can feel as it vibrates the air. “As you wish.”

The neon sign above the door says Hush. It burns bright and pink against the night sky. You look around, unsure how you got here. Sighing, you pull out your phone to check the time. It’s 3:33 in the morning, which means you’re probably a victim of your sleep walking again. 

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you look up at the sign again. There’s a little blue moon to accompany the pink cursive neon, and though you don’t think you’ve ever seen this bar before, there's a magnetism about it that draws you in. 

Curious, you walk up to the door and go in. The lights are dim and you have trouble seeing at first, but you can make out that there’s a piano in the corner, two booths and a small bar with some stools. A man sits at the bar, his back turned to you. 

“We’re closed,” he grumbles without turning to look at you. You frown, cocking your head as you drink him in. 

The purple suit he wears is an odd choice. His hair is the color of blood, slicked back and a surprisingly nice contrast to the bright color of his suit. A single light flickers above him, painting him in a gold hue.

“What is this place?” you ask, ignoring the fact that it’s closed. 

He doesn’t answer for a second. You think he’s going to ignore you, but finally he says, “Do you have trouble sleeping?” 

You’re surprised by the question. “Yes, actually.” 

“I can help.” 

“Really?” You step further into the bar, watching as he turns to look at you over his shoulder. He is painfully pretty, the kind of beauty that reminds you of old paintings of Lucifer. “How?” 

“Are you accepting my help?” 

Without hesitation you answer, “Yes.” 

His cherry red lips twitch and he shakes his head. Picking up his drink, he polishes it off before standing to turn you fully. The weight of his presence presses down on you like an invisible blanket, weighing you down.

“Of course you do.” He strides toward you and though your instincts tell you to run, something else tells you to stay. He looks down at you with a pair of eyes that threaten to swallow you whole if you let them. His lashes are silky and long, a delicate balance to his heavy gaze. “You always need me, right, Pretty?” 

You nod, a word - a name - buzzing on your tongue as he looms over you. “Please,” you whisper, thoughts a little cottony, a little dizzy. “Seungcheol.”

He grins, revealing sharp teeth. “Hush,” he murmurs. “You’re mine.” 

TAG LIST:

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[holyblonded]

jealousy, jealousy | birds of a feather

pairings: paige bueckers x black!oc

summary: rocky schedules cause a drift in paige and cecilia’s relationship

warnings: jealous paige jealous paige jealous paige

notes: y’all i hate nova this time of year. everyone is on guard (rightfully so!) and tell me why i saw a tr*mp truck on my way to school 😐

Paige never considered herself the jealous type. Heck, she even bragged to many of her teammates that's the word didn't exist in her relationship. She loved Cecilia, Cecilia loved her. The same story for years now and everyone knew it. But, with the two of them both being in season and traveling, their window for their usual FaceTimes has shrunk and their texts have become brief. Paige's security in the relationship was shaken.

"Hi, I'm Cecilia and this is-" Cecilia pointed to her two friends on either side of her.

"Gavi-"

"and Pedri."

"And this is the best friends test," They all said together, Cecilia sounding much more upbeat than the other two.

"Here's how to the game goes, we all take turn asking questions and the other two write it down on the whiteboard so whoever gets it right, gets a point," Cecilia explained to the camera.

Cecilia grinned at the camera. "Alright, let's kick this off. First question: What's my favorite color?"

Gavi and Pedri scribbled furiously on their whiteboards before holding them up in unison.

"Yellow!" they both said at the same time, sounding like a rehearsed choir.

Cecilia clasped her hands together, looking touched. "Awww, you guys know me so well!"

Pedri smirked. "That was the easiest question ever."

"Don't get cocky," Cecilia shot back, flipping her cue card. "Here's a harder one: Who did I make my debut against?"

Both boys froze, their markers hovering over their boards.

"Uh... Sevilla?" Pedri guessed hesitantly.

"No, no, it was Espanyol," Gavi said with the confidence of someone who was absolutely wrong.

Cecilia gave them both a disappointed look. "Wrong and wrong. It was Real Madrid."

Gavi's eyebrows furrowed. "Your debut was El Clasico? That's crazy, why would they do that?"

"Cause I'm the greatest. But, yeah, no pressure or anything," Cecilia shrugged nonchalantly. "Just 90 minutes of running in the biggest game against Spain at the age of fourteen. Totally chill. Just another day being the best.”

"Shut up," Pedri rolled his eyes.

Cecilia laughed as she wiped the imaginary dust off her hands. "Okay, my turn's done. Gavi, you're up!"

Gavi smirked as he grabbed the question card in front of him. "Alright, let's see if you two actually know me. First question: What's my go-to meal after a hard match?”

Cecilia and Pedri immediately started scribbling on their whiteboards.

"Pizza," Cecilia said confidently, holding up her board.

"McDonald's," Pedri countered, grinning as he turned his board around.

Gavi pointed at Pedri. "He's right. McDonald's all the way."

Cecilia groaned. "Seriously? You're an elite athlete, and you're eating McNuggets after games? Nourish your body, dummy."

"Don't judge me, C," Gavi defended. "Next question: What's my biggest fear?"

Cecilia raised an eyebrow. "Oh, this is easy." She quickly wrote something down.

Pedri hesitated, tapping his marker against his chin before finally scribbling something.

"Alright, show me," Gavi demanded.

"Spiders," Cecilia said, flipping her board.

"Practice after a game with a lot of yellow cards," Pedri guessed, his grin wide and teasing.

Gavi's face dropped as Cecilia and Pedri laughed. "Haha, so funny Pedri, but the answer is spiders."

Cecilia pumped her fist in the air. "Finally, some points for me!"

"Alright, it's my turn," Pedri said, leaning back in his chair with a smug look. "Let's start with an easy one: What's my favorite TV show?"

Gavi rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, we all know this."

Cecilia wrote something down quickly, her tongue poking out in concentration.

"Ready? One, two, three!" Pedri called.

"Money Heist," Cecilia said, holding her board up.

"Money Heist," Gavi echoed, flipping his board.

Pedri nodded. "Yep. Too easy. Next question: How old was I when I scored my first professional goal?"

Cecilia furrowed her brow. "Ugh, this is a trick question. I know it."

"Why would it be a trick question?" Gavi asked, already writing.

"Because everything with Pedri is a trick question," Cecilia replied, jotting down her answer.

"Alright, answers?" Pedri said.

"Seventeen," Cecilia guessed.

"Sixteen," Gavi said confidently.

Pedri shook his head, grinning. "You're both wrong. I was seventeen and three months."

Cecilia groaned. "You're the worst. Who even remembers the months?"

Pedri smirked. "A winner, that's who."

After a few more rounds, the three friends were in tears from laughing, their boards covered in half-erased answers and doodles.

"So who won?" Gavi asked, leaning over to tally the scores.

Pedri squinted at the paper. "Cecilia. By half a point."

"What?" Gavi exclaimed. "That's rigged! She probably cheated."

Cecilia gasped dramatically. "Excuse me? I'm just smarter than you two combined."

Pedri shrugged. "She's not wrong."

Gavi crossed his arms, pouting. "Next time, we're doing a test where I get to choose all the questions."

"Good luck with that," Cecilia teased. "We all know you'd still lose."

The video ended with the three of them laughing, Cecilia tossing an eraser at Gavi, who pretended to dodge it in slow motion.

Paige watched as the video faded to black, her chest filling with an indescribable feeling. A rather uncomfortable warmth accompanied by a sharp tug in her chest and a knot in her throat that made it hard to breathe.

"P," Nika called out. "You good?"

"Yeah," Paige's teeth were clenched. "I'm good."

Paige was head over heels for Cecilia and when they missed a day of talking, it felt like withdrawals. While Cecilia found this trait of Paige endearing, the same cannot be said for her teammates and friends.

"Paige! Shut the fuck up, please," Azzi groaned.

"I miss her, Azzi. My heart hurts," Paige complained as she clutched her chest dramatically. "My heart feels like it's going to explode."

"Let it," Nika mumbled in passing.

Paige sighed and trudged to her room throwing herself on the bed. She opened TikTok and went through her routine whenever she missed Cecilia, watching her edits.

Paige scrolled through the app enjoying the many thirst trap edits of her girlfriend when a certain in came across her screen. It's started out normal but a clip from an interview with Jana popped up and it turned on to a ship edit to the song Glue by Beabadoobee.

Paige knew she shouldn't have, but she clicked on the comments.

the ultimate barca couple 🗣️

they need to get together already 😭

bruh they are so cute

That same unsettling warmth filled Paige again. An uneasy, persistent ache grew in her stomach as she quickly swiped out of the app.

"Hey, Amor," Cecilia smiling face took up Paige's phone. Paige instantly sent her a smile yet. This is the first time she saw her girlfriend the whole week with their schedules keeping them apart.

"Hey, baby. I was thinking-" Paige was interrupted by a voice calling for Cecilia.

"Cari!" The voice of Ona Batlle rang through the small hallway where Cecilia was hiding. " Per què t'amagues aquí? (Why are you hiding here?)"

"Parlant amb la Paige sense que la Pina i la Patri em molestessin (Talking to Paige without Pina and Patri bothering me)," Cecilia answered as she smiled up at Ona from the floor.

"Okay, Cari," Ona planted a quick kiss on Cecilia's cheek before patting her head. "Assegureu-vos de dinar, d'acord. (Make sure to get lunch, okay.)"

"Si, si," Cecilia dismissed and swatted Ona's hands away before the older girl made her way to the cafeteria. "What were you saying, Amor?"

Paige gave her a tight lipped smile, with the unpleasant warmth filling her chest, "It's not important, don't worry about it, babe."

Paige tossed and turned, before she settled on her back, staring at her dorm ceiling. After a Google search and looking at advice videos on TikTok, Paige has chalked up the odd emotion she's been feeling was jealousy. She had never felt the feeling before in her relationship with Cecilia. With both of their careers taking off their usual everyday talks had dwindled down, and seeing Cecilia getting shipped with her teammates hurt Paige.

The blonde looked at her alarm clock that read 11:04 pm. She knew it was 5 in Barcelona but her brain moved on autopilot as she reached for her phone and dialed Cecilia's number. After the second ring, the call was answered by the groggy twenty year old.

"Amor? Are you okay?" Cecilia asked, attempting to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

"Are you in love with someone else?" Paige blurts out. Cecilia then sat up in bed, wide and awake.

"Amor, what?"

"Do you love Gavi or Pedri or Ona or anyone else in Spain?" Paige restated.

Cecilia shook her head, not comprehending what Paige could be asking right now. "What? Amor— no. There's no one else I love. What's been up with you lately? Háblame."

Paige sighed, her free hand coming up to rub at her temple as she tried to find the right words. "I don't even know where to start. It's just... lately, things have felt different, and I've been overthinking everything. You're all the way in Spain, and I'm here, and we barely get to talk like we used to. And then I see those videos of you with Gavi, Pedri, Ona, and your whole team..." She paused, her voice catching. "And I see the way people ship you with them, and it just... it hurts, Cece."

Cecilia's heart sank as she listened. "Paige," she said softly, her voice laced with concern.

"I know it's stupid, okay?" Paige continued, her words tumbling out now. "I know they're just your friends, and you're close with them because you spend so much time together, but I can't help it. I've never felt this... jealous before. And I hate feeling this way because I trust you—I do—but my brain just won't shut up."

Cecilia stayed quiet for a moment, letting Paige vent. Then, she took a deep breath and spoke, her tone calm but firm. "Amor, listen to me. You're the only person I love. You're my person. Always and forever. Not Gavi, not Pedri, not Ona—none of them. They're my friends, yes, and I love spending time with them, but it's not the same kind of love. What I feel for you? It's on a completely different level."

Paige sniffled softly, her fingers gripping her phone tightly. "But you're so far away, Cece. And they get to see you every day. They get to laugh with you, be around you, while I'm just... here. I feel like I'm losing you, even if I know that's not true."

"You're not losing me," Cecilia said with conviction, her voice softening again. "I promise, you're not. I know things have been tough lately with our schedules, and I hate that I can't talk to you as much as I want. But no matter how busy things get, you're always in my heart, Paige. I think about you every day, and I can't wait for the moment I can hold you again."

Paige let out a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just needed to hear that."

"And I'll remind you every day if you need me to," Cecilia said, a small smile creeping into her tone. "This is new for us, being apart for this long, not finding time to visit, but we're a team, remember? We'll figure it out, like we always do."

Paige finally let herself relax, the tension melting away from her body. "I love you, Cece. I'm sorry for being so insecure."

"Don't apologize for how you feel," Cecilia said. "It's okay to feel like this. Just talk to me, okay? No more holding it in until you're randomly calling me at five in the morning.”

Paige laughed softly, the sound making Cecilia's heart swell. "Deal."

"Good," Cecilia said warmly. "Now, get some sleep, Amor. I'll call you tomorrow, and we'll figure out a time to talk more often, okay?"

"Okay," Paige murmured, a soft smile forming on her lips. "Goodnight, Cece."

"Goodnight, mi amor. Sweet dreams."

[doodledrawsthings]

you. Oh my god, you. (Positive)

listen. Before I had internet access, all I had was 1 hour of allotted browser time, bing image search, and a single dantdm play through of a hat in time that never got finished. I googled fanart and got pretty much nothing, I googled fancomics and got pretty much nothing, but you know what I did end up finding?

your art.

from ages 11-14, my goal in life, in art, was your art. I can’t tell you how much I loved finding random screenshots of your posts, because I was always just so impressed by how clean and consistent your sketches are, how the characters always stay on model, the shape language, how you could somehow sketch a character in like 20 lines when it took me 50 to draw sans in my little spiral notebook— like! Holy shit! For years I have looked up to your art! There’s still a photos folder on my dads old huge-ass 12 inch work iPad labeled “holy crap” and filled with your art. Because it inspired me so much. It’s become an undeniable part of my artstyle, now — I still have fanart I drew way back in the day of Hattie and the rest, I didn’t even know anyone’s names because I couldn’t play the game, but you’re the reason I eventually did play the game. Your coffee shop au and different versions of the prince— one of those ieterations inspired the main character of my novel! Well, novel that I tried to write, I was 13 so it was eh, but I tried!!

I’m submitting this on-anon because I don’t want to out my age on the wide internet (I like my privacy) but. Your art has really meant a lot to me. It’s the reason I played hollow knight, and it’s the reason I kept trying to develop an art style I was happy with. You’re the reason I started scribbling comics in my notebooks. Being 13-14 was pretty much the worst two years of my life, but I had Bing image search and the occasional glimpse of your signature, and I’d be so happy every time I found a new (if crusty) three-times screenshotted jpg. You literally introduced me to the concept of polyamory and nonbinary-ness with the coffee shop au. I had no other access to that in my household, and. Yeah. It meant a lot to me.

Anyway. I’m so glad I’ve finally tracked you down (in the most non-ominous way possible) and I’m so glad you’re still active— Please never stop making art. Your art is incredible, and amazing, and also you never know who’s out there on Bing image search. Thank you for creating for as long as you have. You’re pretty much the reason I’m shooting for an art degree (Wish me luck!) so just…Thank you.

(Also I had no idea you were a professional storyboarder, which is insane because that’s what I want to be when I’m through college. Hey, maybe I’ll end up storyboarding a remake of something you’ve storyboarded! hehehe)

Hi anon!

So right off the bat, I gotta tell you that this message made me start bawling when I woke up and saw it. Like I had a full-on cry session while reading your message and lying in bed for almost an hour. I am crying as I am typing this response, on my phone, still in bed. It’s 11am and i woke up at 9. So I hope it turns out coherent.

The last two years have been. weird. I say that a lot because I wanna say “rough” but that still doesn’t feel quite right. I’m almost hyper-aware that there are so many people that have it worse than me rn, so it feels hard to even acknowledge when I’m going through anything, myself, sometimes- REGARDLESS, it’s been kind of an all-time low for my mental health. There was a point within in the last year where I just HATED drawing. I struggled to bring myself to work, I struggled to bring myself to even draw for fun. It felt like I was posting just to post, trying to keep people aware of my existence and it almost felt physically painful to force myself to sit down and do it, sometimes.

I’m getting better now, I think, but. Yknow.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the “oh I can make money off this,” “oh I can get attention off this,” “oh I can prove myself a functional person in society with this,” of it all. I forget why I actually do this, sometimes, or if I even enjoy it. And then I get messages like yours, about the kid with limited internet access looking for A Hat in Time fan art on Bing image search, and I get taken back to when I was a kid scrolling Google images and deviantart for the same thing.

I don’t mean to like. Foster some kind of parasocial thing with you or any one of my followers. There’s a reason I’m saying all this, I hope it ties up in the end.

We don’t know each other. I’m not some mysterious legendary artist, or whatever. I’m a person who gets burnt out, and jealous, and insecure. I need inspiration to function, just like you, and when I don’t have it, I get art block. But I also really like to draw fictional characters kissing and hanging out. I like coming up with comics and stories and playing out dramatic and funny scenarios in my head like I’m mashing Barbies together. And when other people tell me they enjoy the stuff I put out when I do this, it makes me really, really, really happy.

I think I needed to read your message, probably. With the state of… Everything… Right now, especially recently, I feel like a lot of artists are also struggling with a sense of purpose, pride, and reason as the world makes it harder and harder to even BE an artist, these days. And when I read this message it was like Anton Ego at the end of Ratatouille, I got taken back to when I was a kid looking at my favorite artists and studying their style and striving to be better and better at it over years of my life. Not just because I wanted a job for it or cuz I wanted to be a famous Disney animator or whatever, but because it was fun and I just liked doing it.

Thank you, SO much. I say this in the most genuine and earnest way I possibly can possibly express. I wish you luck on your own path in art and art school. And if you decide that animation industry is your thing, then I wish you the best in that endeavor, as well. I think I will keep making art for a long time.

Peace and love on the planet earth ✌️✌️✌️

[kikidoul]

── CRIMINAL LOVE.

໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა 양정원 x fem! reader content established+secret relationship reader is a detective while jungwon is part of the mafia ᥫ᭡ warning explicit sexual content petnames used fingering pussy eating cum eating edging/orgasm denial . . .!? 1328 — mlist. req

note. uh, i'm not really proud of this but i'm too lazy to rewrite so i'm afraid you have to make do with this... </3 taglist. @tfwbluu

You groaned for the unknown time, stretching your arms above your head as you leaned back in your chair. You’ve spent the past three hours seated by your desk, boring holes at the sheets of papers scattered across your desk. It was a case that could risk or break your chances of getting a promotion—something you’ve been yearning for. Being a detective is not easy, especially when you have criminals who are constantly outsmarting you. 

Fuck it, I’m dealing with this tomorrow. 

Sighing, you start packing up, filing the papers into a clear folder and shut down your laptop. You were the only one left in the office, leaving you the task of shutting off the lights and air-conditioner before leaving. You headed to the basement where your car was waiting for you and you drove off, returning home. 

“...Why are you here?” You deadpanned, standing by the door frame as a familiar figure made himself at home, seated by the dining table with already cooked dishes. 

Jungwon flashed you his signature smile, his dimples showing on his round cheeks. “Why not? I got off work early and decided to surprise you. Why? Don’t you miss me?” He batted his eyelashes at you, laughing when you rolled your eyes. 

“I miss my peace and quiet. It was great having the whole house to myself. What happened anyway? Didn’t you tell me the mission will last for two weeks?” You asked as you removed your shoes, neatly placing them by the side. 

Jungwon rose from his seat, approached you to help in taking your things and placed them on the coffee table. “It finished earlier than we expected and Hyung decided to let us have a short break. But enough about me, how was your day, darling?” 

You shot him a glare. “Oh, you know, thanks to a certain someone, I had to stay behind, trying to figure out what his main goal is.” 

Humming, he steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your left shoulder, slightly swaying you side to side. “Sounds like you’re under lots of pressure, love. Perhaps you need to destress.” 

He coos, hands subtly snaking its way underneath your clothes, tracing the outline of your body. Goosebumps formed on your body when his warm hands touched your skin. You looked over your shoulder, arching an eyebrow. 

“And what do you have in mind?” You questioned. 

The smirk Jungwon gave you was anything but harmless. His eyes twinkled with mischief, a sly smirk stretching across his face. “I’ve an idea.” 

~

“Hah—Wonie—oh fuck,” you cried out, your back arching off the bed as you gripped onto both the pillow and his hair with your hands. 

Your legs were slung over his broad shoulders, spread open for him like you were the main dish served to him on a silver platter. Your back arched off the bed at a particularly harsh suck of your clit, digging your feet onto your boyfriend’s back to ground yourself. You weren’t sure how much time had passed. It could be minutes or hours but you couldn’t care. Not when Jungwon was eating you out like there was no tomorrow. You rocked your hips against his mouth, breathless moans and whimpers fell from your lips. 

You felt the familiar ache in your stomach and how your muscles tightened. “Fuck—Wonie, please, please,” you mewled, wanting to be free from this sweet torture your boyfriend was putting you through. 

Much to your utter horror, frustration and disbelief, Jungwon moved away. He chuckled at the desperation written all over your face and just to be a tease, he rolled your puffy clit in slow circles, grinning at how your legs twitched. 

“Nuh uh, I don’t think you deserve to cum, sweetheart,” he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

His words made you sobbed out loud, tears of frustration prickled your eyes. “Why!?” 

Jungwon hums. “Because you didn’t solve the case. How about you tell me where you stopped and I’ll help you out. If you can answer me correctly, you can cum. How does that sound?” 

Your left eyebrow subtly twitched, unable to believe what he was saying. “Jungwon, I swear to god—!?”

The rest of your words died in your throat when he pushed two fingers in and you instinctively clenched down on the sudden intrusion. Your eyes rolled up at the feeling of him twisting his fingers in just the right angle, hitting the spot that made you see stars. As quick as it happened, Jungwon pulled his fingers out, eliciting a disappointed sound of protest from you. 

“First question: how far are you into your investigation?” He questioned, calm and collected while you, on the other hand, were a mess. 

It was already hard for you to process his question, especially when he thought it was a great idea to kiss your inner thighs, touching you everywhere but your poor neglected and throbbing clit. Your breath caught in your throat, heart beating in anticipation when you felt his hot breath grazing against your clit, only to let out a startled yelp when he pinched your thigh. 

“Hey, I’m asking you a question, you know. What? Don’t tell me you’re already fucked out?” He mocks you, moving his fingers down to brush them against your clit, slowly spreading your folds apart and blowing hot air at it, savoring the way you squeaked. 

“Imagine how your superior will react if they were to see their brightest, smartest and intelligent detective getting defiled by the very same criminal she’s tasked to go after,” he continues, emphasizing some of his words with him moving his long, thick and slender fingers in a scissors-like movement, making your mind reeled from the delirious feeling. 

“Ngh, I—I’ve figured out—hah—your patterns, oh god,” you breathed out, gripping onto the sheets for dear life as Jungwon ducked his head to lap away at your clit, collecting your slick to spread them all over your puffy folds. 

As far as you were aware, you have been edged for the past one or two hours and all it took was for a few simple licks with his skillful tongue for you to push you over the edge. Your body shook vigorously from your orgasm, limbs twitching and spasming about as Jungwon drinks it all, not letting a single drop go to waste. 

You knew you were in deep trouble when you caught how Jungwon’s eyes darkened a shade. You nervously gulped, watching as he moved upwards, hands resting on both sides of your head. You felt small under his intense, unwavering gaze and you squirmed about on the sheets. A gasp left your lips when he gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“Looks like you disobeyed my order. I hope you’ve prepared yourself,” he warned. 

~ 

The next day, you arrived at your office feeling more exhausted than usual. It was a miracle that no one noticed how you were limping as you made your way to the pantry area. 

“(Name), how’s the progress on the investigation going?” Your superior asked, startling the lights out of you as you were in the midst of preparing a cup of coffee for yourself. 

Turning around, you plastered what you hoped was a convincing smile. “Ah, I’m almost there and I just need a little more time before I can catch them, sir.” 

Your superior nodded, pleased with your response and left you alone. You sighed, hand tracing the hickey left on your neck—concealed by a layer of makeup. 

Bzzt, bzzt. 

Feeling your phone vibrating in your pocket, you pulled out the device to see it was a text message from Jungwon. Ensuring no one was nearby, you opened your conversation to see two simple messages: 

Hi love, just want to let you know that we’ll be committing a crime tonight at: XXX - XX - XXXX. ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ love you

Catch me if you can, detective ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)✨

[gyaruhana]

HEYHEYYYYYY!!! I know requests are closed, buuuut... my mind has been going crazy thinking about a yandere Min su. Ik he's a cutie patootie but, UGHHH. Am I the only one who sees him as having yan potential?? Idk, but I NEED him as a yan. 😭

Min-Su/Player 125 - Yandere!Min-Su Headcannons

Synopsis: minsu as a yandere..

A/N: i hear you and i see you. he could so be a yan ugh !!

Warnings: yandere content, smut content, kinda short..

➠ Min-Su is sort of like a stray puppy honestly..

➠ he stalks follows you around constantly but never gets too close

➠ he's more on the quiet side so he doesn't really think about going up to you and talking to you

➠ he instead opts for the much creepier move which involves watching you every single day and night

➠ you'll see him everywhere but he's careful enough to make it look like a coincidence so you'll never suspect anything more

➠ he might be a bit of a push over but do NOT mistake that for him being weak..

➠ he's not afraid to get his hands dirty if he knows he can get away with it

➠ he's very much driven by the fear of losing you to someone else and fear makes him do a lot of bad things

➠ If he's able to, he'll kill whoever poses a threat to his chances with you and then burn the body

➠ However, if he can't, he won't hesitate to kidnap you instead

➠ he's so sloppy when he tries to kidnap you because he's doing it out of sheer panic he might lose you

➠ takes three tries before he successfully does it and takes you to his place

➠ he's nervous when you first wake up tied to his chair and tries to be very gentle so you'll like him more but quite quickly gives that up when he realizes you won't change your opinion now that he's kidnapped you

➠ he's still nice.. he loves you and doesn't want to hurt you but he will get upset if you annoy him too much

➠ he will keep you tied to a chair but he'll tie you to his bed at some point for cuddles (he's clingy)

➠ like i said, he's so stray puppy core

➠ he always wants to please you and keep you happy because you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen and he's so hopelessly in love with you

➠ he won't let you leave the house though

➠ On the bright side, he will feed you amazingly !!

➠ 5 star meals all the time and he will not settle for anything less for you

➠ he wants to reward you all the time for being perfect

➠ he also wants to be rewarded with physical touch like head pats

➠ on a more sexual note..

➠ he will top but he is still submissive

➠ he's just on top because he gets nervous you'll try run if he unties you

➠ he's quiet for the most part but he whines every now and again

➠ so so sensitive he literally can't handle teasing

➠ and yet he overstimulates himself every time anyway

➠ he also cries easily

➠ I feel like it's important to mention he'd wait for you to come to him for sex

➠ he's patient and isn't super eager for sex.

➠ as long as he gets cuddles, he's happy

➠ overall, really gentle yandere but does get his hands dirty

"I'm really sorry but I couldn't let him take you from me," Min-Su spoke as he gently caressed your cheek with his thumb. Min-Su never meant if for it to happen like this. He'd rather be on a date with you instead of having you tied up to a chair in his house. However, that guy he saw you with last sunday looked like he was about to sweep you off your feet and Min-Su just couldn't have that. Ideally, he would've just killed the guy like he did the last few that risked his chances of stealing your heart. Unfortunately, Min-Su knew he'd be no match for that guy so he had to do the next best thing; kidnap you. Even if his heart ached at your tears of fear, he knew this was for the better. You were all his now. "Don't cry, please. It's alright. I won't hurt you - not when you're mine,"

[sleepyeepyp3rson]

wwe/pro fighters!141 x announcer!reader (pt 2.)

Two losses in a row, a broken arm, and a complete disruption of the script. Add it all up, and it's trouble for you. So much so that your boss, Shepherd, called you into his office and told you to fix it. Or else. Not ominous at all.

an: oh yeah buddy pt 2. tried to do a pov switch (?) hope it isnt too confusing lmao. tried to keep reader as gender neutral as possible. dee vs accents, dee vs giving the reader a nickname

tw: nothing much, tagging these just to be safe. reader is told to "cover up more" and be less of a distraction, soap is a clingy, overenthusiastic little guy, reader briefly wants to kill their boss

(masterlist, 1)

"Four against three. One with a broken arm. Tell me how, in less than two matches, a team with a perfect track record loses twice and completely disrupts the script?"

You start, but Shepherd interrupts you. "They got distracted, that's how." He stands and starts pacing, looming over you. "The 141 boys were supposed to win last night. That's the script, that's why we did the promo the way we did it. And they, pro wrestlers with years of experience, got distracted."

He slams his hand down on the desk.

"Fix it." A finger in your face. "I don't care how! Cover up more, talk less, I don't care. Fix it!"

And like that, you're dismissed. Left standing outside his office door like some puppy. You want to march right back in there and slam his stupid, deformed pug-looking face right into his desk. But you can't. You need this job. It's your dream and your only source of income.

So you go home, and you stare into the mirror for a good ten minutes.

Okay. Just... talk less. Easy. You can shut up, you can stop talking. Not like you're the only announcer anyway, you have your coworkers. But how would that even work? You're an announcer. You announce things! Are you just supposed to not do your job? Does Shepherd not know why he hired you? Is he not the one signing the checks?

You settle for wearing a turtleneck the next day.

Pulling into the parking lot is no problem, neither is passing through security and going backstage, but the second you pass the men's locker room on the way to your booth, you're stopped.

"Aye, bonnie!" An arm makes its way over your shoulders, and turning your head, you see a familiar sharp grin.

"Soap." You shrug him off. Usually, it's fine, just him being touchy as normal, but you were told to sort out the distraction problem, to take up less space in the company, so you need to do that.

A flash of hurt passes over his face, and it stabs at your heart. "You can call me Johnny-" You shake your head. You did, before the whole almost losing your job thing.

You walk away before he can pull out the puppy eyes.

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

"Somethin''s up with our announcer."

Gaz pokes his head up at that. "Sunshine?" At Soap's nod, he curses and stops his stretches. Ghost looks up too, eyes narrowed, always watching.

"Knew something was off when I saw the turtleneck. Never worn one of 'em before." He huffs, looking at the little TV they have in the room to see what's going on. "I mean, steamin' Jesus. Thing swallows 'em. Like I'm watching a live show of a nunnery."

"Somethin' wrong?" Price chooses that moment to look up from his cigar and actually pay attention to the conversation.

"Aye. Sunshine's a bit too quiet, ye ken?"

Price hums, running a hand over his face and beard. "A bit concerning. Not like 'em to be quiet for so long. Someone say something?"

Gaz and Soap look at each other, clearly not considering that option, then back at the TV.

"Maybe we should look into it." Ghost speaks up for the first time, voice a low mix of a whisper and grumble as he fixes a few stray stitches in his costume. "Saw 'em leave Shepherds office yesterday. Could pay 'im a little visit."

Price stands, groaning and rubbing a hand on his lower back. He really needs to use those ice packs his PT gave him. "I'll go. Stay low for now, prep for that interview."

A chorus of "Aye, Cap" rings out, and Price exits the locker room.

Soap waits for a few seconds before he rises, and is immediately tugged right back down by Ghost. A dog on a leash, he is. "Don't you even think about it, Johnny. You give 'im enough of a headache."

He grumbles, but he slumps down in his seat, eyeing the TV. Eyeing you. (And that stupid turtleneck.)

[httpwintersoldier]

『sweet little thing p.3 | b. barnes x reader』

pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's real long okay, it even has THREE parts (or more?) summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher? 『 part 1 』 『 part 2 』 『 part 3 』

fluff ; angst ; smut

To say that things were complicated after that day was an understatement. On the night of the game you and Bucky had to wait for everyone to leave and for Andy to go to bed, before he could sneak you out of the house - at the end of the ride you had to force yourselves off of each other, or the night would become a lot longer than intended.

You had kept in constant contact, yearning to repeat what had happened the day (and night) of the game. If the day had more hours, and if the week had more days, you would've spent even that extra time messaging each other, as it appeared that the twenty-four hours of contact were (seemingly) not enough.

Bucky didn't tell you, obviously, but he was afraid that you'd stop showing interest right after, due to his age - he considered the possibility of being an experiment to you. On the other hand, you had also considered that he had only wanted you as a trophy, the young piece of ass that he'd tell his friends about. However, as time passed and as messages were exchanged, it was clear to the both of you that your worries were nothing but mere fiction made up by your overthinking.

You: lazy day today...

Mr. Barnes: does that mean I'm not getting a pic of one those cute little outfits you like to wear?

You: 1 attachment

You: this is the only outfit I'm wearing today, good enough? 😇

"Fuck..." Bucky muttered, and licked his lips as he looked at the image you had sent him.

The t-shirt was loose, but you were laying on your back so your curves and your nipples were very distinguishable. You had purposefully pulled it up, so your panties peeked from underneath the fabric, teasing him purposefully.

Something within him flared up, all the while you stared at the phone, anxiously awaiting his reply. You saw the text go from sent, to delivered, to seen, to... ignored?

You frowned, he had never taken that long to respond... You thought the both of you were "in a mood", but apparently you were wrong. Minutes went by and there was still no response, and suddenly you wondered if you had done something wrong.

The sound of the doorbell echoed in your place, bringing you back to reality. You were confused, you hadn't ordered anything, and you weren't expecting anyone, it was also quite late, which definitely raised an alarm.

You quietly walked to the door and looked through the peephole. Your eyes widened as you realized that, on the other side of the door, stood none other than James Barnes, he looked angry... no, desperate.

You swung the door open and, before you could say a word, Bucky cupped one of your cheeks and the other hand gripped your waist, pushing you against the wall as he closed the door with his foot. His lips smashed against yours, devouring you in a hungry kiss while his shameless hand travelled to your ass and gripped it harshly, bringing your hips forward. You could feel the outline of his hardened cock pressing against your hip, and you couldn't help the moan that escaped into the kiss.

"How are you here? I texted you like... ten minutes ago. You live twenty minutes away." You asked, looking at him through half lidded eyes as you caressed his cheek.

"My foot was on the floor with that gas pedal."

You leaned your head against the wall and laughed, giving him an opening to kiss and bite your neck.

"You risked getting pulled over just to come here quickly?"

"It was an urgent matter..." The man rolled his hips against you as he spoke, fully letting you feel his boner. "This time..." he paused, biting your neck in the middle of the sentence "there's no one around, so I want to hear you call my name real loud."

A string of cures left your lips as you grabbed his hand and hurriedly dragged him into your bedroom.

Bucky was quick to throw you onto your bed, discarding of his shirt and working on his jeans as he hovered over you. His impatience was clear, he didn't even remove your panties, the man simply pulled them to the side as he slid into you with ease.

Your moans and his grunts were muffled out by the hungry kiss you two shared. Your legs wrapped around his waist, giving Bucky a better angle to thrust deeper into you.

"Y-you feel so good!" You moaned, fueling Bucky to fuck you even harder.

He gripped the hem of your shirt and pulled it off of you, so that he could see your tits bouncing with each thrust of his hips. The man gripped and squeezed every inch of your body, seemingly hypnotized by the way you looked when being fucked by him.

"I'm not lasting long, sweetheart." Bucky admitted.

"C-cum in me."

Those three words alone nearly had him climaxing, your pretty voice saying those dirty words for him, as your pretty eyes looked at him with that little sparkle in them... It took real commitment not to spill inside of you that very second.

"You're sure, baby?"

You could only nod and, before long, his hips snapped against yours in one final thrust, and his cock twitched inside of you, filling you with his cum. Bucky bent over, and kissed you slowly to drown out his groans.

"That's it, take it all in..." He paused, and kissed your temple. "Good girl..."

Once he was done, Bucky was careful when pulling out. He laid beside you, placing several kisses to your temple.

"You okay?"

You looked at him and nodded. Bucky looked back at you, with adoration plastered on his face. You were a grown adult, but your expression when you stared at him was simply too cute, too much to bear, he wanted to hold on to you forever.

"I will wash up and get us some water, okay?"

Bucky nodded and slapped your ass as you walked away, earning a small shriek in return.

A couple minutes later, his phone vibrated on the pocket of his jeans that were lying somewhere on the floor. Bucky cursed and rummage through the clothes until he found the device, picking up without looking at the caller ID.

"Dad? Where are you? I just got home and you're nowhere, I tried calling you like, three times. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, I left home like forty minutes ago." Bucky clarified with a sigh, sometimes he felt like the child.

"Where are you?"

Just as the man was about to answer, your voice echoed in the house.

"Hey Bucky, do you want a beer instead or-" You stopped in your tracks when you walked into the room and saw Bucky sitting there, with wide eyes and his phone to his ear.

"Dad? Who was that? Oh my God are you on a date?!" The boy asked, with a teasing tone.

"No, Andy, I'm not on a date, see you later, okay?" Bucky responded, making sure to say his name so that you'd understand who it was on the other side.

"Sure dad, see you."

You sat beside him on the bed, giving him the beer you had brought for him.

"Do you think he recognized my voice?"

"No, he would've given me Hell on the phone if he had. But it is kind of late, I should head back." The man said, as he got ready to stand up.

You grabbed his wrist and stopped him. He looked at you as you bit your lip and averted your gaze.

"What?" He asked with a chuckle and a small smile, knowing very well what you were going to ask.

"No need to head back... It's so late, why don't you spend the night?"

Bucky kissed your lips softly, and then kissed you a little deeper, just enough so you could taste the alcohol on his tongue.

"I thought you were gonna make me do the walk of shame."

Bucky strolled into his house with a small smile, as he thought of you, of your body, and of the time you had spent together. It was hard to conceal how happy you made him, and the man didn't try hard to hide it either.

"Hey dad, where did you spend the night, hm?" Andy asked, hinting at the feminine voice he had heard on the phone.

The dad chuckled, and the spark in his eye instantly died down as he remembered that you were his son's crush and he had just spent the night fucking you.

"No one." Bucky responded simply, throwing his phone and his keys onto the table.

"Come on dad, I'm not going to be mad! You and mom have been divorced long enough, I knew it was going to happen eventually." The boy insisted, in a whiny voice, as he followed his dad up the stairs.

"You're being a pain in the ass, kid." Bucky warned.

Before Andy could say anything else, the man walked into the bathroom and shut the door, creating a physical barrier between the two of them, hoping that Andy would stop pushing him for answers on such an uncomfortable matter.

As Bucky walked down the stairs after his shower, in search for his phone, he understood why there had been a deafening silence in the house for so long.

His son stood in the middle of the hallway, holding Bucky's phone. The man couldn't see what he had opened, but once Andy lifted his head, with red, tear-stained eyes, it was pretty clear.

"You're fucking Y/N?..." He asked, with a faint, shaky voice, but it wasn't really a question.

Bucky's mouth opened, but closed right after, as he had no idea what to say.

"You're fucking Y/N?!" Andy repeated, now yelling.

The tears streaming down his face were those of sadness, anger and frustration - he couldn't comprehend what was happening, and he was unable to assimilate that it was real life, surely it had to be a dream, a nightmare.

"Andy, I'm sorry..." That was the only thing Bucky could muster the courage to say.

"Are you!? Are you really!? 'Cause you didn't seem sorry at all when you were coming in the house! You knew I fucking liked her, I told you!"

The man opened his mouth to say something, but Andy was quicker.

"I don't wanna hear whatever bullshit excuse you're going to make up to make yourself feel better."

Andy dropped his dad's phone on the floor with force and dashed out of the door.

Bucky stood there, all of what he had done hitting him like a brick wall. Soon after, he heard the tires of Andy's car screeching as he sped down the street.

Fuck.

"You're fucking my dad?!"

It felt as if your world had crumbled around you. You had been startled by someone banging on your door, and, when you opened the door to find Andy in his disheveled state you didn't expect that to come out of his mouth.

"H-how..."

"I saw it. On his phone."

"Oh..."

"That's all you have to say!? 'Oh'!?"

It was all you could say, it was all that your dry, aching throat would allow you to utter. Your body was shaking but your legs were frozen in the spot.

"How fucking could you?! You have to have known that I fucking liked you! And I invite you to my house and what, you fuck my dad?! What the fuck is wrong with you!" By the end of his speech, Andy was laughing, out of anger and anxiousness, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"I-I didn't! Andy I swear that I didn't know you liked me!"

"You're a fucking liar!" He yelled, pointing his index finger at you.

"Andy I liked you! I liked you too but..." You said, holding your palms in front of your chest, as if protecting yourself from him.

You couldn't finish your sentence, but you didn't need to, Andy understood.

"You liked me?..." The boy asked.

His voice had become soft, as if he had realized, just then, that he had had the opportunity he wanted and had lost it, to his dad.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" Andy repeated, his voice harsher and louder.

As he stepped forward towards you, you stepped backwards, until your back was against the wall. Andy towered over you, staring down into your eyes with anger and disgust.

"I-I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry... But after I met Buck- your dad, I... I'm sorry."

You averted your gaze and stumbled on your words, nothing you said made sense and you couldn't bring yourself to make a full sentence.

Suddenly, Andy was pushed away from you by something, and, when you looked in his direction, you saw Bucky behind him, with a stern, rigid expression. The man had pulled his son back by the arm and kept a strong grip on it, preventing Andy from going up to you again.

"Not at her. You don't yell at her like that, and you especially don't treat her like that." The man told his son.

"Oh aren't you the cutest couple." Andy retorted, in a snarky and ironic voice, while trying to escape his dad's grip.

"Don't be a fucking idiot, I've taught you better than to yell at women. You want to be angry then be angry at me. I fucked up. I knew about it, she didn't, so you want to get up in someone's face, get up in mine." Bucky snarled.

It was weird, he felt intense guilt for betraying his son's trust in such a vulnerable way, but at the same time his stomach churned and his face burned when he saw his son treat you like that.

Andy looked up at his dad and, knowing it was a fight he wasn't going to win, violently shook his dad's hand off of his arm.

"See you at home, dad." He said, and left, slamming your front door as loudly as he could.

Once the silence had settled in, and once your mind processed what had happened, you dropped to your knees. Your chest heaved up and down quickly and tears flowed down your face incessantly, the droplets forming a polka-dot pattern on the floor beneath you.

Bucky said nothing, he simply knelt beside you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards his chest.

"Sh... It's fine..." He told you softly, as one of his hands caressed your face and the other caressed your hair.

You had no idea how long you had stayed on the floor crying against Bucky's chest, but the man had not attempted to get up even once. He stayed there, holding you and whispering sweet words until you had calmed down. He waited for you to shower and made you some tea (after opening and closing nearly every cabinet in your kitchen).

"So... Y/N..." He started, with a sigh, breaking the seemingly never-ending silence, as he sat across from you "I think we should stop whatever we have going on."

Bucky was met with silence and a blank expression.

"What?"

You had to have heard it wrong, there was no way the two of you had risked so much for him to end things like that.

"I don't think this is a good idea Y/N... I-I have already hurt my son, and I can't sacrifice my relationship with my son like this-"

You stood up abruptly, accidentally knocking over the tea he had made you.

"You're a coward!" You snapped, shooting daggers at him with your eyes.

Bucky stood up carefully, he was now the one locked in a cage with a wolf.

"Y/N, please don't make this harder than it has to be..." The man stepped towards to you and tried to grab your hands, but you moved them away.

"Coward! Asshole! I was just a piece of ass to you, wasn't I?! The second trouble came your way you didn't even hesitate to throw me to the curb!" You yelled, smacking his chest.

Bucky's jaw tightened and he tried to make you stop once more, he tried to calm you down, but to no avail.

"You were not just a piece of ass Y/N, you know it, but I can't do it if I'm hurting-"

You continued on smacking his chest, while crying and cursing at him - you didn't want to listen to whatever he was saying.

"This is what I get for fucking around with kids."

You stopped everything and slowly lifted your eyes to meet his gaze. You were enraged, disappointed and hurt, but his eyes... The emotions were far too vast, sorrow, regret, hurt...

You stepped closer and looked deep into his eyes.

"I wasn't a kid when you were fucking me earlier today." You spat.

Bucky had had enough. He finally grabbed your hands and pushed you against the wall of the kitchen, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand.

Neither of you said anything, and both of you refused to break the intense eye contact.

It happened quickly, like a flash of light, but your lips were brought together by the tension and your hands roamed each other's bodies like wild animals. Moans, groans and curses echoed in the air as the the two of you made out against the wall.

The man picked you up with ease and swung you over his shoulder, spanking you ass several times on your way to the bedroom. When he dropped you on your bed, your body had not finished bouncing on the mattress and he had already jumped on top of you.

Your hands fidgeted with the button and the zipper of his jeans, while his fingers gripped the waistband of your shorts and of your panties, pulling them off your body in one harsh pull. The man pulled away for a second, to fully remove his pants, and to strip from his shirt, before removing your shirt with haste and attaching his lips to your neck. He stained your skin with bites that would leave a mark for certain, a small, dirty trail that followed from your neck down to your chest.

As one of his hands played with one of your nipples, his mouth attached to the other, roughly sucking on it, and giving it playful bites. Your hands found their way to his hair, tugging on it from time to time.

A long, strained moan was ripped from your throat as his fingers found your pussy, his index and middle finger slowly entering you as his thumb circled your clit. The man's lips pulled away from your tits, so that he could watch your face as his fingers fucked you.

The pace quickened at a steady pace, and he watched your pleasure-struck expression with a shit-eating grin.

"You like it, sweetheart?" He asked, bending over so he could whisper in your ear and bite your earlobe "Do you like it when I make you feel good, hm?"

"Y-yes sir." You moaned out.

Suddenly, Bucky removed his fingers entirely, licking them clean right in front of your face before gripping your neck with his hand, applying just enough pressure.

"Now, what did I say about calling me sir?" The man asked, with a glint in his eye, glad to have something to punish you about.

"S-sorry-"

"Too late, sweetheart."

Bucky flipped you around on the mattress, and pulled your hips up, so you'd be on all fours. He knelt behind you, so that his hips would be lined up with your ass, and slowly inserted himself into you, groaning as he felt your walls tightened around him. It felt heavenly, to be filled by him and to be wrapped around by you.

His hips snapped against yours at a fast, rough pace right from the start. The man's hands made a makeshift ponytail with your hair and he tugged on it from time to time, as if punishing you for talking back to him.

"Who's fucking you this good? Hm?"

"Y-you!" You yelled.

His free hand spanked your ass a couple of times.

"Who are you a whore for, pretty girl?"

"You!"

Spank.

"Say my name!"

"F-fuck! You Bucky! You fuck me so well- shit!" You cursed as you could feel the familiar knot forming on your stomach.

You arms gave in and your back arched, allowing for Bucky to somehow hit a better spot in you. With a cry for his name, and a string of undecipherable curses, you came.

The way his name left your lips made Bucky climax instantly, filling you up with his cum as he praised you.

As you both came down from your high, the man bent over and kissed your shoulder blades, before pulling out.

"You did really good, sweetheart." He whispered, before slowly flipping you around and pulling you towards him.

As you laid on his chest, Bucky played with your hair, sharing a minute of silence while the two of you caught your breaths.

"So... Is this goodbye?" You said, unwilling to meet his eye.

"It can't be..." The man admitted.

After that confession, you slowly looked up at him. His face was unreadable, the emotions were far too many to be able to decipher just one.

"Then why would you say that... earlier."

Bucky pressed his lips together and sighed. He didn't know how you had done it, but you snuck into his heart and tripled its size. Bucky found himself thinking of you day and night, you made him feel things he hadn't felt in a long time.

"It seemed like the best option- the only option. I mean fuck, my son likes you, and here I am with you. And it's selfish but..." He paused and sighed once more, unsure if he should speak his mind "This has already been done, I've already hurt my son, unfortunately. All I can do is ask for forgiveness, but if I stopped seeing you... Then three people would end up being hurt."

You squeezed Bucky tightly - you hadn't known him for long, but you could tell that it was hard for him to be selfish, to act in his own interest instead of putting everyone else before him.

"We'll figure this out..."

"minors dni" banner credit - @cafekitsune taglist: @bookofriverr ; @starfly-nicole @deafening-roar-of-angry-students

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Electrical Wire Vigil

No one knows what to do with the angel tangled in the power lines. The poor thing’s body was wrapped around and around the sparking wires and twisted-up into a ball. The face was obscured by its bent halo—a golden glow that sometimes oscillates like bad television signal. The wings float loosely in the air, all twelve feet of silken bits of light, ragged and torn at the ends.

A storm had felled the trees and the poles and anything taller than a chicken coup in one swoop. Anyone who dared cross the puddles and debris had to risk being electrocuted by the live wires or blinded by the angel’s weakly pulsing light.

The creature would periodically make a break for it too—wings going taut and rising in a flurry of trumpet sounds and frantic flapping. The electrical wires held fast, twisting against the angel’s soft flesh and pushing back. It fell, it always fell, back into the nest of tangled wires and would make weak cooing noises. I was an ornithologist before all this town and couldn’t help but think, pigeon.

The chaplain went to pray under the angel’s bent bod first, getting close as he dared. Everyone knew he wasn’t but a few weeks off the drink and his hands still shook when he lifted up the cross. The nun, she was retired but we still called her just that, caught the 921 bus to the next town that same day.

Some said she was going to the next town over to get a proper priest. Others said she had crossed herself and high-tailed it out of there. What bad luck it was going to be to have a dead angel in our backyard.

All this debris and only the birds can get close enough to it, flapping around the angels head and perching on its mighty back. They call to each other.

Davie, who I had once loved, offered to fetch his shotgun and put it out of its misery. The youngest one there, a girl named Clara, cried so hard she had to be walked back and forth down the lane three times. We opted to put “shooting a messenger of the lord” on the back burner. We gathered up wire cutters, holy books, rubber boots, and a good tree-cutting ax from the messes of our homes and piled them up. We'd wait a day or so at least, watching the angel and all silently hoping it would make it out on its own. 

I wasn’t a praying woman anymore. My house was a testament to a lot of broken things before it was ever leveled by the storm. But I didn’t have any little ones to walk up and down the lane and my car had survived just fine and I owned the best pair of binoculars out of anyone. So, I kept vigil–it was the least I could do. 

I sat and watched and sometimes cooed back when the angel let out long melancholy ooo's. Days of misery in exchange for just a few hours of wind and rain and fury, I thought, the relief trucks would be a while. The chaplain came at sundown and he passed me a drink from his flask. I wasn’t a praying woman anymore so I took a long sip and passed it back.

“Think it’ll make it out?” I asked, nodding at the angel, and the chaplain took a longer drink. I gave him a small smile and elbowed the man. “Glad you stayed, at least.” He nodded again and began to pray, never taking his eyes off the wires up above.

The girl came when the day tucked behind the trees into full dark.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” I told her tiny form at the edge of the puddles. She drew her knees up under her big sweater.

“I have to make sure he doesn’t try anything . . .” she said and I knew she was talking about Davie, who I could no longer love.

 “Does your mama know you’re out here?”

She mumbles from inside her little hoodie, “I can’t let ‘em do it.”

I sighed. “He won’t, not with me here,” I said and waved her over. I made the little girl climb into my lap to stop her shivering and the chaplain gave us all a long blanket to huddle under. The angel flapped those dirty wings and cooed.

“Can I see?” I let the little girl use my binoculars to make out that bent halo and loose curls. She got fingerprints all over the lens and I tried to ignore it.

“I want to be a meteorologist one day,” Clara said, unprompted. “So I can warn people about stuff like this.”

I snorted. “And I want to be a poet.”

“Hush,” Markus says to me and then to the little girl, “I’m sure you’ll make a great weather lady, Clara.” The chaplain gave a punished smile and it made me want to make fun of him just enough to stop it. Clara frowned.

“Did you always want to be a chaplain?” she asked in return and the chaplain didn't answer.

I cleared my throat. “Do you think that’s what it was trying to do? Trying to warn us?” “Or maybe it was just unlucky,” Markus says, rubbing a hand down his long face.

I snorted. “A bad day at work, for sure.”

“Does god allow for bad luck?” asked the little girl.

“Why don’t we ask it?” I say, and we laugh, weakly. We call out to the angel–questions and praise and hopes for tomorrow that we’ll get it out. Or maybe we'd have to get the shotgun tomorrow. The glow of the creature is so weak. Near midnight, the girl suggests we go looking for its horn. If it had been there to warn us, it might have carried a horn, and if it had a horn, we might be able to summon help. 

We search, feebly, avoiding the sparking wires and the upturned wood and metal. We go around in the mud on our hands and knees until we match the trapped thing. Though, we never do figure out what to do with the angel tangled in the power line. The night was long and bitter and we didn’t have anywhere else to be, the drunken chaplain and family-less woman of the birds and that little girl.

Before dawn, I am asleep, we are all asleep, dead to the world like the day will never come. And in the morning, the wires are loose on the ground and quiet. The angel is gone and a truck has come to pick us up. A part of me hopes it made it out. A part of me is relieved to see that Davie is here and he has all his supplies in the back. The trucks are here and the power company remembered us enough to cut off the power.

I have nowhere to be, and walk the little girl home. Gloria is happy to see her and offers me a place to stay the night even though I tell her my car is just fine. Still, she says, just a night.

The window in the guest room faces the electrical wires. They’ll rebuild them one day because you can’t waste the material all the way out here. Clara will go off to college one day. The chaplain will leave the drink for good, he will, and the church in the same breath. I will write a poem one day and it won’t be any good.

It’ll be about the electrical wires outside my windows. About how I don’t know if the angel made it out, but the birds still perch there. They preen and sing and fluff. I count them one by one in the pre-dawn light. Some are flesh and blood and they clean the feathers of the ones that aren’t. Pearly blue jays that sing forgotten songs from yesteryear, and there are fewer ones by the morning light. The angel wire they call it. Year after year, the birds return with their bodies or without them, to sit on the wire and preen their grandchildren and sing to lost mates, and I close my eyes and listen to the ghosts.

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

My book! 🧡 Newsletter

[flattocatto]

Viktor Modern!AU uni headcanons

ohhh hes in my head i have so many thoughts i have so much to say about him. you guys just let me cook. ok. okay thanks. please reblog like whatever im new here LOL

warnings/key takeaways: mention of recreational drug use, freshman/sophomore year of uni, lots of studying, goofy meet cute, oblivious nerd viktor, both of you live on campus in dorms (same building), GENDER NEUTRAL (use of ‘you’, no specific pronouns)

HE SMOKES WEED

IDGAF HE SMOKES WEED

not like some crazy stuff. no. he smokes weed ti not feel PAIN. yeah you heard me. he smokes shit w high CBD content. doesn’t smoke it for the high, smokes it to feel better

think he would have it medically and everything

ohhh uni viktor would be the only fucker allowed to smoke in his dorm because if his leg got bad how could he go outside huh?? he didn’t share this news (of him being allowed to smoke indoors) but people knew since he’d have a window cracked open all the time. not fooling anyone

on this note i feel like he would only smoke if he absolutely needed to. yk how people go “i can quit anytime!” but never do? he’s the kind of guy to say that but MEAN IT. he just prefers his joints over painkillers because he finds they work faster

ok enough weed talk. he’s getting his masters in biomedical engineering. its obvious you guys ive seen this everywhere.

he wants to make people better prosthetics. he also got a degree in prosthetics and orthotics techs but it was only a 2 year so its ‘just a paper’ as he says

he studies hardcore. its surprising he even makes friends (sorry viktor) but he saw a lot of potential in jayce as a student from people watching. like in canon au :D!

on that note, biggest people watcher. its actually kind of how he got his friends. extroverts pick up introverts from introvert daycare (the corner of the room)

relationship headcanons

if you guys were to meet, it would be one of those silly meetcute things.

hear me out. you book a study room with your friends to study for exams, but none of them show. shame. one got sick, the other had to go home to see their parents or something. all in all, you were DITCHED by your homies

now. someone coordinating the rooms messed up. viktor had that room booked the SAME time you did! gasp! he just likes the space of the rooms to properly spread out his work.

anyway you were already in the room and he shows up. and just stands there. awkwardly. standing man emoji.

instead of apologizing, he STANDS HIS MFING GROUND. “i have this room booked for three hours.”

“thats crazy because ME TOO.”

you go back and forth, before you both realize the confirmation email you got was from the same person or whatever. who had booked the room for you two. not two separate rooms.

after viktor makes a small mumble of “of course”, you offer to let him stay anyway. and explain that you originally had friends going over but they dipped.

its exam season, you aren’t leaving and you aren’t gonna kick him out! thats so cruel!!!

at the end you end up exchanging numbers. and find out you’re in the same dormitory building!!!

he invites you to study with him in a study room next time, to ‘prevent the coordinator from messing up again’ — he just likes your presence

bing bang boom friends. occasionally one of you begins to break silence, asking silly questions about futures and families and holidays. conversation is limited, you are both locked in to studying most of the time

unfortunately YOU are the one to ask him out. viktor is literally just comfortable with your presence and too in his head to think you’d ever LIKE him romantically.

you take him to a museum. yeah. the local one had a free day for students. you’re also 100% chill with sitting whenever he looked uncomfortable. even if he denied needing rest, his face did that little scrunch thing and you just knew

after that you went to the uni again, to the dining hall. and he insisted on giving you a meal off of his meal plan. he said he ‘barely uses them all anyway,’ and forces you to take it. even if it kind of wasn’t allowed. he just lied to the clerk and said he was going to take it home.

very sweet if him, breaking RULES?

thats like the only rule he breaks for you

no, he won’t let you sleep in his dorm

no, he won’t sleep in YOUR dorm either

no, he won’t sneak out past curfew

(unless ur dying)

there was a time you texted him ‘help’ at midnight and he made his way all the way to your dorm very quietly.

turns out you had burnt popcorn. and it tasted horrible and you were honestly stressed to the point of tears. he thought you had gotten hurt. he proceeded to lecture you on appropriate texts to send at midnight past curfew. for like an hour.

glorious ovulation i need to smoke with him.

[darkwitchoferie]

Train Ride - Chapter 8, Exhibitionism, Stress Relief, and Painting

A/N: First - sorry this took longer than I originally intended. That may continue as my personal shit has gotten a bit more complicated. Second - I lied – there’s another chapter now. So, there’s a total of 10 chapters, 3 of which happen after the original oneshot. This is another long one, y’all. But then, there’s three separate scenes in this one, so it’s not surprising. The next two chapters are the same – three scenes each.

Not specific to this fic – but when did we, collectively as a fanfic writing community, decide that Changbin calls his partner ‘bunny’ and Minho uses ‘kitten’? I’ve seen it in tons of fics. Like, not upset about it or even really questioning WHY we decided that, just wondering when it happened.

I just realized, on proofreading this, that there’s no Felix. At all. Damn. It’s alright, the next chapter starts with him.

Cw/tw: exhibitionism, group sex, unprotected vaginal and anal sex, oral (m & f receiving), facefucking, member x member action, a little breath play, featuring (a little) of Seungmin’s fondness for being manhandled by Changbin, cock warming, cum eating and sharing,

Wc: 5.7k

Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

~~ Exhibitionism ~~

Since the orgy that brought Jisung and Minho into the polycule, things had been going very well for you and the members. You had explained the pendent necklace Chan had given you and that, if they saw you wearing it, it was blanket permission to play with you. That was something every single one of them took advantage of whenever they could. Changbin, one of the three of your boyfriends who shared your exhibitionist kink, had also called you to the studio during a recording session. You’d enjoyed it a lot more than you might have expected. Not only the sex, but also watching whichever of your boyfriends was in the recording booth watch you and be unable to participate because he had to record. Jeongin, Felix, and Jisung had had to fully turned their backs in an effort to maintain their composure.

You also had scheduled date days with each of the boys, and they had them with each other as well. Frequently, you had additional dates that were with all of the boys, or just a few of them. But you all made sure to make time for one-on-one dates once a month. Sometimes they weren’t very long or got pushed back due to late or changing schedules, but that was something you were used to from having been with Chan for so long.

Usually, when that happened, whoever’s date had been pushed back, would want to have an apartment date, rather than going out. Apartment date was just the wording the nine of you had agreed on for an at-home date, usually your home. They were the more romantic dates, seeing as you and seven of your boyfriends couldn’t really be romantic publicly.

Yours and Minho’s date night had unfortunately been pushed back several times over three weeks, so you were both craving some romantic affection. Not that you hadn’t seen him at all in that time or that you two hadn’t been romantic, you had, you just hadn’t been able to have a date with him. So you weren’t surprised when Minho asked for your date with him to be an apartment date.

It was the middle of the day when Minho planned to come over. The eight of them had a day off, so he had no other commitments that would mean your date had to be in the evening. But, because you were both looking for a more romantic atmosphere, you’d pulled the curtains tight over your kitchen window and balcony door to darken your apartment, then lit a couple candles in the living room to lend everything a more romantic atmosphere.

While you were in your room changing into more comfortable lounge clothes, you heard the door open. You hurried out as soon as you were dressed to find Minho standing in the middle of your living room, looking around.

“How is it that there are eight of us, each with different wants and personalities, and you still somehow always know exactly what to do for us?” he asked softly, turning to look at you.

You grinned, pleased that you’d read the situation right. “I know my men,” you answered, shrugging a shoulder as if it were no big deal.

He strode up to you, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in to claim your lips in a soft kiss. “Thank you, kitten. This is just exactly what I needed today.”

In short order, the pair of you had spread out the snacks and drinks Minho had brought on your coffee table then cuddled on your couch, watching your favorite movie. He was wedged into the corner of your couch and you were cuddled half on top of him, thoroughly relaxed and enjoying your movie.

Lazily, mostly watching the movie, his hand had drifted from around your waist to groping your boobs over your tank top. His touch was light, with very little intention in his actions, mostly like he was playing with a fidget toy to keep his focus on the screen. You thought it was kind of funny, especially how he wasn’t the only one to treat your boobs that way. Chan, Changbin, Seungmin, and Jeongin all did as well. Hyunjin liked to tap on or trace designs on your belly, while Jisung and Felix were more fond of your thighs.

After the movie ended, you stretched out, arching enough to press your boob more firmly into Minho’s hand. Then you sighed and slumped back against him again. After another content moment, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw, then stood up and started clearing away the trash from your snacks. You saw him reach for his phone, but didn’t comment, not particularly caring who he was texting as long as he didn’t spend the rest of your date on it.

After tossing the trash into the trash can, you went to the refrigerator to grab more drinks. You squeaked in surprise when you felt Minho press up against your ass while you were bent over, looking in the fridge.

You stood up, pressing your ass more firmly against him and feeling him grow harder. “Something I can help you with, baby?” you tease.

“Mm, there might be,” he reached forward to grip your hips. You grinned as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. You tilted your head over and slightly back to rest on his shoulder and give him full access to the side of your neck. You gripped his thigh, moaning, when he sucked a hickey into the side of your neck. “Mm,” he hummed against your skin. “I’m hungry kitten. Got anything I could eat?”

You knew what he wanted you to say, so instead you leaned down into the refrigerator again, making sure your ass was firmly against his hard on. “Let’s see,” you wiggled your hips a little. “There’s the left over Chinese from yesterday, kimchi, I could make ramen if you want.”

Tightening his grip on your hips, he pulled you away from the fridge. “Not what I’m hungry for.”

“Oh, did you wanna order pizza?” you asked, working to keep your voice as innocent as possible.

Rather than answer you, he quickly slid your lounge shorts and panties down your legs, flipped you around, and lifted you onto the counter beside the fridge. Your panties and shorts dropped off your ankles as soon as you were in the air. “Tease,” he accused, stepping between your legs and running two fingers up your folds, flicking your clit with the pads of those fingers.

“Oh, is that what you wanted? You should’ve said, baby.” He gave you an unimpressed glare as he crouched down to be face-level with your pussy. Your giggle at his glare was abruptly cut off into a moan when he immediately wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked.

Minho wrapped his arms around your thighs, well acquainted with your habit of squeezing peoples’ heads if they didn’t hold your thighs open. You threaded your fingers in his hair as he devoured your pussy, licking, sucking, and tongue fucking you just the way you loved. The build to your orgasm was steady, but fast, as Minho seemed intent on getting you to cum quickly. Your moans turned whiney as he repeatedly flicked his tongue over your clit, before wrapping his lips around it and sucking it into his mouth again.

You moaned, loud and long, curling around his head, as your orgasm rushed through you.

You leaned your head back against the cupboard, panting to catch your breath. “You know that the eight of us talk about you and any… fantasies you may share with us, right?”

“You know the eight of us talk about you and anything we think you’d enjoy, right?” You countered.

A small smile flashed across his face. “Channie was telling us all about the night you confessed to wanting this arrangement and what fantasies you’d admitted to at the time.”

“Hm. That explains why Bin didn’t shower after the gym on his way here last week.”

“Mm,” he hummed his agreement. “You did look so good riding his thigh.” It had become rather frequent that the nine of you sent sex photos and videos to the group chat. “And we all know he loves how messy you get.” At the time, Changbin had taken a photo of his thigh, shiny and slick with your arousal and cum.

You grinned. “I assume there’s a point?”

“There’s a balcony, actually,” he nodded his head in the direction of the curtains covering your balcony door.

“Minho, it’s the middle of the day!” You couldn’t deny though that the thought of what he was suggesting made your pussy clench.

“Kitten, you gonna tell me that doesn’t excite you more?” His mocking tone and the smirk on his face, not to mention the way his fingers danced up your inner thigh, told you that he knew exactly what you thought.

He tugged you off the counter, shepherding you toward the balcony door. He pulled your tank top up and off just as he pushed you through the open door and onto your balcony. You took a second to appreciate that your building was one of the ones that had walls separating the balconies rather than just fences. Sure, the potential of being caught was part of the thrill, but you didn’t want to jeopardize the guys’ careers and reputations. The walls and deep shadows created by them would protect Minho’s identity.

Minho joined you, having only slid his sweats down enough to pull his cock out, and crowded you against the railing. “You’ll have to be quiet, kitten. I’m not going to cover your mouth, and it’s not like you have a shirt to bite on.” Then he flipped you around and pressed against your back, forcing you to bend over the railing. Your belly rested on the top of the railing, leaving your head and tits to hang over the edge. He then grabbed both of your hands, holding them in a relaxed grip in one of his behind your lower back.

You felt him run his cock head up and down your slit a few times before he gripped one of your hips with his free hand and slammed into you. Not prepared for his speed, you didn’t have time to muffle the loud moan you let out. You quickly clenched your jaw shut as he immediately set a fast pace.

“Any one of those people down there could look up any time, kitten.” He was mostly hidden by the shadows of your balcony and every other word he spoke was punctuated with a harsh thrust of his hips. “What a view that would be, huh? You with your gorgeous tits bouncing over the railing.”

You whimpered, trying so hard to stay quiet. Your complex’s parking lot wasn’t exactly teeming with people, no matter what time of day, but it was the end of the work day, so many of your neighbors were coming home. and the thrill of any of them looking up and seeing you was setting you on edge almost as fast as Minho’s cock was. Your pussy clenched with Minho’s words and the images that put in your mind.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Someone down there looking up here to see you being fucked out in the open like this.” You screwed your eyes shut in an effort to focus on keeping quiet. Instead, doing so heightened your other senses so you clearly heard the cars not too far away on the road, felt the breeze through your hair and over your tits. Behind you, Minho chuckled. “Well, look at that, two someones have seen you.”

Your eyes flew open and you spotted Changbin and Seungmin looking up at you. Seungmin blew you a kiss while Changbin pulled out his phone and took either a couple photos or a short video. You whimpered, looking down at them watching you was bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. After a minute or so, the pair headed into the building. You turned your head to look back at Minho.

“I texted them,” he confirmed your half formed thought. “Thought I shouldn’t be the only one who gets to enjoy you out in the fresh air.”

You whimpered again, head dropping forward. The thought of three of your boyfriends using you out on the balcony, where anyone could look up and see you, had you curling against the railing and biting your bottom lip to keep quiet as you came.

“Aw, kitten, did that make you cum? Really?”

“What?”

“I told her I called you both so you could enjoy her in the fresh air too and she almost immediately came.”

“Pretty girl loves the thrill, don’t you?” Seungmin came to stand beside you, back against the railing.

You purposely clenched around Minho, feeling desperate to have him cum in you. With a groan, he pulled out of you and you felt his cum splash on your ass.

“No,” you whined.

“Poor kitten,” Minho teased, panting to catch his breath.

Changbin, judging by the fingers on your ass, stepped up behind you and swiped his fingers through the cum on your ass, gathering some up. He then reached forward and shoved his two fingers into your mouth. You moaned around his fingers, sucking Minho’s cum off them with the same enthusiasm as if it were his cock, not just Bin’s fingers. Bin thrust his fingers in your mouth a few times while you heard him unzipping his jeans with his other hand. Then his fingers were gone.

He interlaced his fingers with yours, keeping your hands pinned to your hips, as he thrust into you. Immediately he set a brutal pace, rocking you against the railing.

“I wonder, kitten, if we took you camping, would you let us fuck you in the woods?” Minho asked from somewhere behind you.

“Oh God,” Changbin groaned as you clenched around him. “Yeah, I think she would. I think she’d like that a lot, huh bunny?”

“Hm, out in the woods, huh? Bet you wouldn’t have to be quiet out there, pretty girl.” Seungmin’s fingers danced up your spine with his words. His fingers continued over your shoulder until he reached your boob. You felt him press against your side, his hard cock against your side, to get a better angle for him to grope your tit. He pinched and rolled your nipple and you squirmed and writhed, trying so hard not to make any noise that you could feel tears gathering.

“I’ll have to see what we can do to set that up,” Minho mused. Distantly, you wondered if he was teasing you or if he were serious.

It didn’t matter to your imagination though, because now all you could imagine was your hands pressed against a tree while Changbin fucked you like he was doing now and you were free to make all the noises that you were desperately holding back.

“Pretty, are you crying?” Seungmin asked, concerned. You violently shook your head, negating the concern rather than denying the tears that finally started to drip from your eyes. “Ah,” he said, understanding. “Feels so good and you can’t make any noise, huh?” You nodded.

Changbin, still holding your hand, slid his hand around your hip and quickly found your clit. You kept your fingers attached to his hand, knowing he didn’t like for you to touch yourself with him, unless he could watch. His thumb rubbed quick, firm circles against your clit. “C’mon bunny. Just let go for me,” he leaned over you, pressing kisses to your back. Within just a few more strokes, your back arched, pressing your tits forward more over the railing, as you came around Bin’s cock. “Good bunny,” he praised, causing you to shiver as he chased his own high, building you up to another.

Changbin’s hips stilled and you felt his warm cum flood your insides. You locked your jaw against the whimper that wanted to come out as he pulled out of you.

Taking his place behind you, Seungmin rubbed a soothing hand over your back, letting you catch your breath for just a moment, before slamming into you. You clutched the railing, Seungmin having not restrained your hands at all. You had the brief thought to cover your mouth, but that was quickly dashed.

“Keep them right there, pretty girl, or I’ll stop.” You whimpered, purposely clenching around his cock as if to keep him in your body.

Behind you, Seungmin stilled. Before you could find your voice for a complaint, Changbin said, “Just a minute, bunny. Just let me get him ready.”

Your head dropped forward – you loved watching Changbin fuck Seungmin as he was usually rougher with the younger man than he was with you, because Seungmin liked it that way. You loved the way Seungmin’s eyes would roll back in his head as Changbin took complete charge of him, roughly moving him to whatever position the older man wanted, even wrapping his hand or arm around the younger man’s neck.

After just a couple minutes, you felt Seungmin press harder into you and heard the low moan that meant Changbin was pressing into him. You didn’t have to wait long for Bin to start thrusting into him, setting a brutal pace, and causing Minnie to fuck you at the same pace. You bit the inside of your lip, trying to keep your moans as quiet as possible, though you could still hear the muffled noises you made.

You didn’t have to look to be able to tell Bin had his hand wrapped around Minnie’s neck, providing just the right amount of pressure to make breathing difficult. You could hear it in the gasps coming from Seungmin. You felt like Bin’s hand was wrapped around your neck, dizzy with pleasure from being used by your boyfriends just the way you liked it.

“Doing okay, kitten?” Minho came to stand beside you, back to the railing. You did your best to nod, but it was difficult with the way Changbin’s thrusts were rocking you through Seungmin. “Good. So good to us, letting us have you whenever we want. However we want,” Minho smiled down at you, the gentle tone of voice and feel of his fingertips running over your shoulder and part way down your side completely at odds with everything else you were feeling.

His fingers skated down your back, wrapping around your hip until he pressed his first two fingers firmly against your clit. He didn’t move them at first, just keeping a firm pressure there while the rocking from Changbin’s thrusts provided a little motion. Then he started tapping on the bundle of nerves, timing it with Changbin’s thrusts.

Seungmin came first, dropping his head back against Changbin with a low groan as he came, adding his load to the one already in you. Changbin sped up, chasing his own high again and causing little whimpers of overstimulation to come from the man between the two of you. Minho focused on your clit, switching to rub little circles into the bundle of nerves until you came with a short scream, mostly muffled by your lips being tightly pressed together. Lost in your own orgasm, you missed when Changbin came but knew he had because he was still.

Carefully, Changbin tugged Seungmin back, pulling him out of you with a whimper from you both.

“C’mere,” Minho tugged you off the railing to face him and, still keeping you bent over, used his thumb to open your mouth and shove his cock in. After a few, deep thrusts, he was coming down your throat.

Exhausted, legs feeling like jelly, you dropped down onto one of the lounge chairs you kept on the balcony. You knew in a minute you’d have to get up for the usual aftercare routine of drink/food/bath, but right now you couldn’t be bothered to care about it.

~~ Stress Relief ~~

You’d had to go into the office for your once-a-month mandatory meeting. You hated those meetings, 99% of everything they talked about was either something you’d already handled via email, or could be handled via email. You were pretty sure it was your bosses way of controlling their staff.

After the meeting, you went straight to Chan and Jeongin’s apartment. You couldn’t remember for sure, without checking the calendar you all used, but you were pretty sure that one of them had a solo schedule today and the other didn’t. Hopefully, one of them would be there. If not, you’d post a nude into the group chat to get someone to come help relieve the aggravation caused by work.

Once in their apartment, the sounds you heard pulled you to Chan’s bedroom. You pushed open the door to see Chan on his back, Jisung bouncing on his cock. For just a minute, you stood and watched them – Chan clutching Ji’s hips, while Ji’s leaky cock bounced with every bounce of his hips.

“Mm, you look so good riding on him, Sungie,” you commented, strolling up to the bed as you shed your work clothes. Jisung’s rhythm faltered as he caught sight of you. “Oh, don’t stop on my account,” you reassured, ridding yourself of the last of your clothes then running a soothing hand down his spine.

Thanks to his anxiety, Jisung still occasionally had moments where he worried what you or one of the other guys thought when you walked in on him and someone else. Like now. At your reassurance though, he smiled and started rolling his hips faster. Chan groaned, tightening his hold on his hips before finding his voice and turning to you.

“Hey baby girl. Didn’t realize you were coming over.” Chan smiled up at you.

“Mm-hm. Had that stupid could’ve-been-an-email meeting today. Need some stress relief.”

“Happy to help, love. Come have a seat.” He winked, blowing you a kiss. He knew, as did the others, that stress relief mostly meant you wanted to be eaten out. Sometimes, if it was really stressful, you’d want to be fucked too. But a mouth on your pussy was the best stress relief for you.

You bent over him to kiss him quickly, before doing exactly as he asked. You climbed up onto the bed and straddled his face, facing Jisung, slowly lowering yourself until he got too impatient, grabbed your hips, and pulled you down onto his mouth. You and Jisung let out matching moans as he did.

“So it was a – oh – a shit day at work?” Ji asked.

“Oh God,” you moaned out as Chan fucked his tongue up into you. “Who cares?” You felt the rumble of Chan’s chuckle against you at your answer. You reached down, hands resting on Chan’s pecs as he continued to lap at you. On a harsh suck of your clit, your elbows gave out. You caught yourself before falling completely, but now found yourself face to tip with Jisung’s bouncing dick.

When you wrapped your lips around him, you were more than pleased to learn that every time he raised up on Chan’s dick, the movement pushed his own dick into your mouth. You shifted around to make yourself more comfortable, keeping your cunt pressed against Chan’s mouth while Jisung thrust into your mouth.

“Oh God,” he moaned, reaching down to tangle one hand in your hair and brace his other hand on Chan’s abs beside your head. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as he struggled to keep his rhythm. Chan obviously noticed as he planted his feet on the bed and started thrusting up into the younger man, forcing his cock deeper into your mouth at the same time. Jisung whined, tightening his hold on your hair.

You were so focused on watching Jisung come apart, that you were only vaguely aware of your own orgasm building. So it took you a little by surprise when you felt that coil snap and you bucked your hips against Chan’s mouth, moans muffled by Jisung’s cock. Watching you cum seemed to be just enough for Jisung who followed right behind you, some of his cum splashing on your lips and chin because of the way Chan was thrusting into him.

He tugged you up, off his softening cock and, while Chan kept thrusting up into him, licked his own cum off your lips and chin. Then he leaned in and captured your lips in a surprisingly sweet kiss that was interrupted when he moaned into your mouth as Chan came in him.

The three of you relaxed, shifting around to lay cuddled together, Jisung in the middle. “You okay, baby girl?”

You knew he was actually asking if you wanted or needed to cum again, but that had been the perfect amount of stress relief for you. “Mm, I’m good, love.” You stretched a little then wrapped your arms more firmly around Ji, who had his face buried against Chan’s chest.

After a while, the three of you got up, cleaned up, and went out to the kitchen to figure out what you wanted for dinner.

~~ Painting ~~

You wondered, briefly, if you’d ever be able to deny any of your boyfriends anything they asked. Seungmin had accused you of having all of them wrapped around your fingers, but you wondered if he realized that they all had you just as wrapped around theirs. Currently, Jeongin was sitting cross-legged on Hyunjin’s bed with you in his lap, on his cock, your nipple in his mouth, and your back slightly arched back, fingers tangled in Innie’s hair. Meanwhile, Hyunjin sat at his easel, sketching the two of you.

He’d asked you the day before to draw you. He’d done so several times now, each apartment having at least one nude portrait of you. They ranged from very classy, tasteful nudes, to you playing with yourself. But then you’d arrived at his and Changbin’s apartment to find Jeongin waiting for you as well and that was when Hyunjin said this portrait was going to be different than the others.

He wanted to do what he called an active painting. You weren’t sure if that was the proper term, or just the term Hyunjin used when he wanted to paint something that would normally be in motion. Like Felix jogging, you masturbating, or, in this case, you and Innie having sex. Now, normally this wouldn’t be a problem for you. You loved cock warming any of your boyfriends. But Jeongin was taking full advantage of the situation you were in to torment you.

You whimpered, wiggling your hips when he flicked his tongue over the nipple he had in his mouth.

“Princess, need you to hold still,” Hyunjin commented. You felt Innie smirk against you before schooling his expression back into the adoring look up at you Hyunjin had asked him for. You just knew the pair of them were tormenting you on purpose.

“You two suck,” you complained.

“Well, yes,” the ‘I-thought-that-was-obvious’ tone coupled with his smirk told you Hyunjin had decided to go for the innuendo rather than the actual complaint you made. You glared at him and his smirk widened to a grin.

For the next several minutes, Innie held still, not sucking on your nipple or licking it, or subtly rolling his hips, so you were able to relax. Or at least, relax as much as you could with the way Hyunjin had you arch your back.

Then Jeongin decided to ‘resettle’ himself which involved him shifting around and harshly thrusting up into you. Just one thrust, barely enough for any real stimulation. You whimpered again, this time getting your revenge by tugging on his hair that you held in your hand. Innie moaned then retaliated with a quick nip to your nipple.

“Do you two mind? I’m trying to create art here.”

“He started it!”

“Did not! I just needed to shift a little.”

“You didn’t! Or at least, you didn’t need to thrust into me when you did!”

“How was I supposed to not though?”

“You’re supposed to hold still so Hyune gets a good painting of us. Tell me you don’t want a painting of us, like this, in your bedroom?”

“It’s going in your room, actually, Princess.”

“Really?” Excited, you turned to look at Hyunjin.

“Stop wiggling,” Innie complained. You ignored him.

“Yep. Suppose I could get a print made for Innie’s room,” he looked at the sketch contemplatively. “And mine, for that matter. But this one is meant for you.” Then he looked back at the pair of you. “But in order to do any of that, I need you two to hold still.”

The pair of you resettled in the positions Hyunjin had asked you for. And this time you stayed there for a longer stretch of time than before.

Then you felt Innie’s hand, the one hidden from Hyunjin’s view, slowly sliding up your thigh. You subtly tightened your hold on his hair as a warning, that he fully ignored. Or took as encouragement, who knew with the way his mind worked. You tried to stay still as Jeongin ran his fingers along you pussy where you were stretched around him, gathering as much of your arousal as he could. But when he pressed those fingers to your clit, flicking in a quick up and down motion, you couldn’t hold back your moans. You pressed down more firmly into his lap and clenched around him.

You heard Hyunjin sigh and set down his pencil but barely registered that he’d stood up. He moved behind you to grab something else then sat back at his easel. “Jeongin, stop. Just for a minute.” Innie did as he was asked and you heard Hyunjin’s camera shutter click several times.

You turned and glared at him as he set his camera down. “What?”

“You could’ve done that before, Hyune!”

“Yeah, probably. But I wanted as much of it as possible to be… real. Capturing it from a camera isn’t the same.” Innie chuckled, the motion causing you to bounce slightly on his cock. Now that you didn’t need to hold still, you rocked your hips down into his lap. He quickly resumed his motions against your clit and copied those flicks with his tongue against your nipple.

Between your rocking, Innie’s hands and tongue, and how long you’d been sitting on his cock, you felt your orgasm building quickly. Then Hyunjin stepped up beside the two of you and claimed your mouth in a sloppy kiss. The tension in your belly snapped and Hyunjin swallowed your moans as you came on Jeongin’s cock.

Hyunjin pulled away from you so you could catch your breath. He ran his thumb over your cheek, then trailed his fingers down the side of your neck and over the side of your boob. Jeongin detached from your nipple and Hyune leaned in to claim his lips, tilting the younger man’s head and tangling his fingers with yours in his hair.

You moaned watching them, rocking your hips faster. You loved watching your boyfriends enjoy each other, especially this close up.

As Hyunjin pulled away, you saw him raise an eyebrow in silent question to Jeongin, who nodded. Hyune made quick work of unzipping and dropping his jeans and boxers, kicking them away, then tossed his shirt off to join them.

Innie dropped his jaw, tongue lolling out over his front teeth. You moaned as Hyunjin tapped the head of his cock on Innie’s tongue a couple times before guiding it into his mouth. Keeping his grip on your hand and therefore Jeongin’s hair, Hyunjin shallowly thrusted into the younger man’s mouth.

You’d been somewhat surprised, particularly with his initial mild reluctance with Chan, how much Jeongin enjoyed sucking cock. He enjoyed it as much as you did, moaning around whoever’s dick was in his mouth the whole time. You loved times like this, where he was sucking someone off while fucking you because it made his hips kick into you just a little more forcefully.

Hyunjin kept his one hand in Jeongin’s hair while the other snaked down to reach your tits and pinch, roll, flick, and generally tease one nipple then the other. Jeongin’s grip on your hips tightened in response to your moans at Hyunjin’s actions.

You leaned forward slightly, licking the side of Hyunjin’s cock where it disappeared between Innie’s lips. Innie whimpered when his grip forced you to speed up and you started clenching around him as a response.

“God, you two look gorgeous.” Hyunjin’s voice came out breathy. Very carefully, you gently bit Jeongin’s bottom lip, pulling another of his whimpers that you loved from deep in his throat. You soothed the bite, licking his lip, then turned your attention back to licking the part of Hyune’s cock that you could.

It wasn’t too much longer before you felt your orgasm starting to crest. You knew Jeongin was close too, with the way he was trying to thrust up into you but unable to get much purchase to do it as much as he wanted. You tossed your head back with a long moan, arching your back far enough that your boobs hit Jeongin’s cheek, as you felt the wave of your orgasm crash through you.

You stilled on Jeongin, still clenching rhythmically around him. That was enough to push him over the edge, Hyunjin following right behind him. As soon as Hyunjin pulled away, Jeongin turned to you and claimed your mouth in a sloppy kiss, pushing Hyune’s cum into your mouth which you greedily swallowed.

By the time Changbin got home from a writing session with Jisung and Chan, the three of you were curled together, asleep, in Hyunjin’s bed.

Several weeks later, Hyunjin presented you with the framed painting of you and Jeongin, as well as one of the final sketches. You decided to hang it in your living room for everyone to enjoy.

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[thanosscross]

All for show 2/? - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader

Summary: After growing bored at home, you finally decide to sneak off and surprise Seung Hyun for his birthday, only to get a surprise of your own.

Warnings: None lovelies! <33

Not having any more shows, it was starting to drive you nuts, especially with your manager adding another three months to your break, like you were a child in timeout. You were basically stuck at home, doing over the phone interviews and photoshoots for brand deals. You spent most of time at home, either writing new songs, or finding stupid silly things to send a picture of to Seung Hyun. You both had started a little habit, anytime Seung Hyun saw something beautiful or captivating, he'd send you a picture, and you'd always find the weirdest funniest things to send him pictures of.

You had been trying harder to learn more Korean, thankful for your new friend for always helping you whenever you needed, Seung Hyun was always happy to help you, it charmed and flustered him that you were willing to make that big of an effort just to be able to speak with him more clearly. You were slowly getting better with it, still having hiccups and issues every now and then, but you always ended up getting it in the end. The boys knew, they needed to keep your and Seung Hyun's friendship under wraps, knowing your style of music and dancing wasn't exactly the thing, YG would want to see associating with his boys, not right now at least. You weren't concerned about it though, mainly just focused on Seung Hyun, his friends whenever they'd pop into the room during your calls, and your music, if your manager wouldn't let you perform, you were at least going to make sure your fans were getting new music while they waited.

Seung Hyun on the other hand, was being tossed from tour shows, to interviews, to variety shows, and rehearsals. Despite all of his running around, he'd still always find time to speak with you, you just seemed to make him feel better about his stress. As he plopped onto the recording studio's couch, Seung Hyun tapped your contact, pressing the small 'facetime' button by your name. "Aein! What are you doing!?" He laughed loudly, as soon as the call was answered, Seung Hyun was met with you sitting on top of one of the doors in your house. You were grateful for your overly tall ceiling, allowing you to always sit on the doors or just climb around on the awkward architecture parts of your home. "나는 스파이더맨이야! (I'm spiderman)!" You shouted, proud of yourself for repeating the phrase you had spent the last three hours trying to learn, Seung Hyun couldn't contain his laughter "Aein, Please! You're going to fall!" He pleaded, trying his best to get you to get down, not wanting to see you fall and hurt yourself. "I'm okay! See, like thirty pillows under me!" You giggled, turning your phone to show him the mountain of pillows and blankets sitting on the floor, beneath you. "You're so silly" He chuckled, turning his phone towards Ji-Yong who sat not far away from him "Is that where Americans sit in their free time?" He joked playfully, watching as you stuck your tongue out "For me? Yes" You replied before leaning your chin on the top of the door as you watched Seung Hyun appear back into the camera's frame.

"How's your day been, Aein?" He asked softly, resting an arm underneath his head as he watched you drop your phone down, before climbing down off of the door, ready to show him your latest creation of music. "아주 좋아, 새로운 노래를 만들었어 (Very good, I made a new song)" You smiled softly, making your way into the in-home studio you had built for the exact reason of Christopher being a dick. "Your Korean is getting really good! Are you learning from another person?" He teased, smiling as you blushed hiding your face for a moment "No, I just have a lot of free time, and I enjoy talking with you" You smiled, sitting down in your office chair as you set your phone up on your desk, trying to find the file on your computer. "So, I have a music video idea for it, but I was wondering...if you boys were free, and able to, if you would want to come help shoot for it?" You smiled softly, picking at your night pants nervously, you hadn't asked anything like this before, usually you left it all to Chris, but you really wanted the boys there, specifically Seung Hyun. "I'll talk to YG, see if we can't make it happen" He smiled softly, watching as you jumped up excitedly, squealing and doing a lap around your recording studio as you cheered "They haven't said yes yet!" He laughed, you just sat back down in your chair giggling "Yes but you said you would talk to them!" You smiled, pulling your knees to your chest as you took in every feature of Seung Hyun's before he had to end the call. "당신은 아름답습니다, 나의 뮤즈 (You're beautiful, my muse)" He muttered, smacking Ji-Yong and Dae-Sung's legs as they made playful kissing noises next to him. "No! You can't say that!! I worked for almost two hours to learn how to call you my muse!" You shouted laughing, jumping up into your chair, covering your face, of course he would pull that line before you could. "Aww, I'm your muse?" He smiled, holding a hand over his heart as he watched you "Yes, you are, is that a problem?" You giggled, picking up your phone as you finally found the audio clip from your last recording session "Nope, no problem" Seung Hyun replied smiling, hoping you wouldn't notice the blush on his cheeks "So! This song is..very different, and I want the boys around you to hear too! You guys have listened to my music before, so, I tried making a song that I liked making, not Christopher basically writing it for me, and I haven't had time to edit everything, so the music hasn't been added" You explained nervously, setting your phone down to face the computer screen as you hit play, you paced nervously behind your phone as your voice started to play through the speakers.

Whenever the recording finished, you squealed pausing it as the recording of you playing around in the recording booth started to play "Wait! Wait! That was my song!" Seung Hyun laughed, recognizing his lyrics for one of his singles, you just shushed him loudly, sliding into the floor as you snatched your phone from the desk "No it wasn't, you're hearing things" You protested, giggling as he just gave you a questioning look, you just sighed smiling "it's fun to do that" You admitted shyly, watching as he just chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. "I like that song, it was pretty" Seung Hyun replied softly, smiling whenever you jumped in your spot slightly in excitement "Really? You really liked it?" You gasped excitedly, moving from the floor over to your desk again, smiling brightly. "I did, you sound beautiful, and the song itself is beautiful" He smiled softly, glancing over as Tae-Yang stepped out of the recording booth, pointing towards Seung Hyun, letting him know he was next to record. "Thank you, It means a lot, especially coming from you" You smiled softly, a bright blush covering your cheeks as he gave you the usual sweet smile, he would anytime you'd say something sweet or endearing to him. "녹음을 해야 해서 곧 집에 돌아가면 전화할게, 알겠지 아름다워? (I have to record, so I'll call you when I get home soon, okay Beautiful?)" Seung Hyun replied sadly, watching as your face fell "Fine, I guess I'll let you off of the phone.." You whispered playfully, giggling loudly whenever Seung Hyun playfully poked his bottom lip out in a pout "I'm sorry, Aein, but I must go, I'll talk to you in a little bit, byee~" He smiled softly, you just smiled sweetly "당신을 사랑해요, 여보, byee~ (I love you, honey)" You replied quickly before ending the call, squealing loudly as you processed what you said. You had both been steady friends for a few months now, talking almost every day, along with falling asleep on the phone together, while you flirted and teased each other, neither of you went as far as saying 'I love you' until now.

Seung Hyun would be taken by surprise by your statement, he felt giddy at your words, smiling brightly as he made his way into the recording booth to do his verses. Taking notice to his friend's smiley, giddy state, Ji-Yong raised his phone, recording a quick video before sending it to you with the caption 'What in the world did you do to our boy?'

You'd giggle loudly whenever you'd watch over the video that Ji-Yong sent you, replying back as you smiled brightly 'I did nothing, other than learn Korean :)' You'd turn to focus on your next plan, a secret plan, that nobody knew, other than your assistant, You were flying to South Korea, planning on surprising Seung Hyun for his birthday next month. Thankfully, Dae-Sung was happy to help you, and happy to keep a secret for you, making your plan go through so much smoother. Whenever the day would come to fly out, you'd keep your head down, not wanting to be spotted by paparazzi, they'd immediately snitch you out to your manager and then your plan would go down in flames.

You had been working so hard as you boarded the private plane, convincing Seung Hyun that you had forgotten his birthday entirely, before going on a 'mental reset retreat' for the day. It broke your heart seeing how disappointed he looked that he wouldn't hear from you anymore until tomorrow, but you knew it'd be worth it whenever you got to see him in person again. As your plane landed, and you made it through security and everything else necessary to enter the country, you were immediately greeted by Dae-Sung and his security. "Y/n!! I've missed you!" He squealed, hugging you tightly as he smiled, grabbing your bags quickly from you as he smiled "Ready to go see Seung Hyun? He's got no clue, he's actually been listening to your music since you got on your flight, I think he's hating the not talking to you" He giggled softly, motioning towards the doors where a car sat outside waiting for you all "나도 너를 그리웠어! 정말 준비됐어, 승현이랑 보내는 시간이 그리웠어. (I missed you too! I'm really ready, I missed spending time with Seung Hyun)" You replied, relaxing a bit now that you were finally on the ground and not thousands of feet in the air. "당신의 한국어가 정말 잘 하시네요, 빨리 배우시는 것 같아요. (Your Korean is really good, I think you're learning it quickly.)" Dae-Sung smiled, holding the door to the car open for you, before climbing in behind you, you sat nervously as the car slowly approached a rather larger home, entering the gate before it came to a complete stop "Holy shit" You whispered, following Dae-Sung as he stepped out of the car "Just stay behind me, He's got a fancy doorbell, so he might check it and see you" He explained smiling, you just nodded excitedly, holding onto his arm as he walked up to the front door, ringing the bell before placing his hand over the camera of the doorbell "Seung Hyunnn!~ It's Dae-Sung!" He called through the door, not wanting to freak his friend out by the lack of view in his camera on the doorbell. As Dae-Sung heard the locks start to undo, he was quick to step back smiling at you "You have to come see us before you leave, have fun! Don't break our Hyung!" Dae-Sung teased before rushing to hide in the car, excitedly watching as Seung Hyun opened the door.

"Aein! What in the world are you doing here!?" Seung Hyun gasped, pulling you into a tight hug, smiling brightly as you hugged back "I wanted to surprise you for your birthday! Did you really think I forgot!?" You giggled, nudging his shoulder slightly as you pulled away softly "Honestly?..A little bit" He smiled, before stepping back opening the door wider to let you in "I would never! You're my best friend, Seung Hyun, of course I'm going to remember your birthday" You smiled, looking around, marveling at how beautiful his home looked in person. "I just- You're here!" He laughed excitedly, hugging you again causing you to giggle loudly "I am! For a whole two weeks!" You smiled, he just hugged you tighter, too excited to do anything else at the moment. You just hugged him back the entire time, feeling your heart swell, not having that many friends or family, you never really had anybody that was ever excited to see you, yes you had fans, but nobody in your personal circle. So Seung Hyun being over the moon excited, made you feel truly loved and wanted, especially whenever Seung Hyun treated you the way he has.

Whenever Seung Hyun finally stopped hugging you, you both sat down on the sofa, smiling as you went through your bag, trying to find the envelope you had managed to keep track of for the last three weeks. You had taken forever with writing it, wanting to make sure you could write it in Korean before you gave it to him. "생일 축하해, 내 사랑 (Happy birthday, my love)" You whispered with a soft smile, Seung Hyun just laughed loudly as you handed him the letter, holding a finger up as he rushed to his bedroom, coming back out with a similar envelope "I swear! We have the same amazing ideas!" You giggled, covering your face as Seung Hyun handed you the letter he had written for you. "Okay, Read them at the same time? Or..?" Seung Hyun smiled softly, you thought for a moment, before moving over to the other side of the living room "Okay, now read it" You giggled opening the folded piece of paper, smiling softly at Seung Hyun's neat but also messy handwriting, it was always cute to you.

'Y/n,

Meeting you was something I never thought I would do, and yet, you walked into my life, and have taken over every thought I've had since then. You're so amazingly sweet and caring, you always know just the thing to make everybody laugh. Your personality is the most beautiful thing I've ever had the honor of experiencing; you've lightened up every dark part of my life, and I can't thank you enough. I've never felt like I was meant to be happy, or like I deserved that much time or effort from people, but just in a handful of months, you've learned a whole new language just to have deeper conversations with me, and that means everything to me and more, sweetheart. you spent almost an entire day making sure you could say 'I love you' perfectly in Korean, for me. You're absolutely breathtaking at every moment of everyday, always stunning me and leaving me speechless, anytime I see you. I've never told you, my love, but you are the most amazing woman I've ever met, the amount of love and care you have for the people you meet, is something that amazes me everyday. Your voice and laugh make my day absolutely amazing, even on my worst ones, and I find myself missing the sound of them almost every day that you're gone and busy. I also find myself falling in love with you, every time I have the honor of speaking with you, Y/n, and I don't know how much longer I can keep it a secret, I want to tell everybody I know and meet how amazing you are. How absolutely thoughtful and selfless you are, and how amazing you make me feel. I love you, Y/n, every single thing about you, I promised that you'd be loved and accepted for yourself before I left to come back home, and little did I know, I'd be the one to fall in love with you.

Yours truly, with all of my love,

Choi Seung Hyun

'Seung Hyun,

I'm not sure how to thank you for everything, you're my saving grace, you found me in a really dark part in life, where I was debating on giving up music as a whole. I was giving up on trying to show the world who I was really was, until you came around. I've always fought my entire life for people to see me as anything other than a 'sexy body' and I didn't even need to try with you, you saw through everything, and I never had anybody do that. Nobody's taken the time to want to talk with me unless it had something in favor of them..but you always seem so excited and happy to talk with me, and the most we've done was flirt together. Seung Hyun, even if you fight me every time I try to tell you, you are a good, amazing, handsome, work of art of a man. You've been through a lot from the stories you've told me, and the fact you're still just as amazing as you are, makes me so proud to call you my best friend. In just the months I've known you, you've changed my life and mind for the better, you've single-handedly showed me I'm so much more than just a voice and body. I used to hate myself, a lot, everybody around me always putting it in my head that I'm stupid, or useless for anything other than performing, that if I don't dress a certain way, I'll be hated; You've changed that though, you helped me see that I'm capable of so much more than people say, that I can be loved and beautiful just the same in either a performance outfit, or my sweatpants and hoodie. You helped me start to love myself again, and it's started making me fall in love with you as well, everything about you makes my life feel so much lighter and happier, like nothing stressful or scary can ever get me whenever I'm around you, I feel safe, loved, and seen, and I have fallen so far in love with you for that, Seung Hyun.

Your favorite American <3

Y/n

As you both finished reading your letters, your gaze met Seung Hyun's, trying your best not to let the sob slip from your lips as you noticed the tears going down his cheeks. "Aein?.." He whispered, wiping the tears on his face the best he could, as he moved to kneel in front of you. You just let yourself cry, wrapping your arms around him tightly as you leaned down, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he tried his best to not cry again from the sounds of your sobs. "You deserve to be happy, My love" You whimpered, clenching the back of his shirt in your fists tightly, trying to calm your breathing as you spoke again "I-I love you, you're so, so sweet to me" You added on, squeezing him tightly before he pulled away, gently wiping the tears from your face "I love you, Aein, but please don't cry" He whispered softly, cupping your cheek as you sniffled slightly "I-I can't help it, y-your letter was really sweet" You whimpered, leaning into his touch as you managed to stop crying after a moment "Thank you...I wrote it the night you said 당신을 사랑해요, 여보 (I love you, honey)" He whispered, caressing your cheek gently with the pad of his thumb, you just blushed softly, hiding your face in your hands as he stood up, moving to sit next to you. "I'm glad I wasn't the only one then, because I wrote that whenever I was learning how to say it" You admitted giggling sheepishly, resting your head on his shoulder as you interlaced your fingers with his. "I meant what I wrote, Y/n..I'm in love with you" He whispered softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead "I know...나도 당신과 사랑에 빠졌어요. (I'm in love with you, too)" You whispered, looking up to meet his gaze smiling softly, blushing whenever you felt his lips connect with yours, Seung Hyun couldn't help it, he wasn't going to lie, whenever you spoke in Korean to him, it made him proud, you had learned that, for him, plus it was pretty hot. As he moved his lips against yours, he couldn't help but smile, slowly pulling away to meet your gaze "You're so amazing" You whispered, panting softly as you tried to catch your breath, Seung Hyun chuckling as he pulled you close to him before leaning back, causing you to fall, laying on his chest. You both laid in silence for a bit, just enjoying the feeling of being around each other again, before you giggled softly "Hey, Seung Hyun?.." You giggled out, smiling as he glanced down at you, through the strands of his hair that had fallen in his face "Hmm?" He hummed softly, running his fingers up and down your back as he waited for a response "Happy birthday..." You whispered, smiling as he chuckled softly "Thank you, Aein, one of the best birthdays I've ever had" He replied, his voice slightly deeper as he started to feel himself growing tired, you just smiled, laying head on his chest again as you rested your hand on the side of his neck, yawning. "I'm happy then" You whispered, taking a deep breath as you felt yourself starting to doze, letting yourself be overtaken by sleep as you held onto Seung Hyun tightly, not wanting to risk this all being a dream.

--

What do you think, lovelies?! Let me know what you think!! As always, I'm so excited to hear back from you all!! <333

Also! If I got any translations wrong, please let me know! I'm very rusty with Korean, but I am trying to learn! <33

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Taglist!!

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[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (14)

The start of adult themes at the end xx

Within the safety of my bed, I decided now would be the best time to write Keira and Lucy’s letter. I didn’t want it to be too graphic, but I wanted them to know the full truth. It took a lot of paper, a lot of tears and a glass of wine, but after an hour they were both finished. 

I sat them in the kitchen table, ready to give it to them tomorrow night. 

Dear Keira, 

You know how hard it is from me to talk about things, and there are things I have been keeping from you. This is the easiest way for me to tell you. Please don’t be mad….

Lucy’s letter was the same. A lot of truth, and potentially filling in the gaps of time. It wasn’t going to be easy to sit there and watch them read it, or answer the questions they had, or even deal with the aftermath. 

The following day went slowly, training went slowly, then recover. Everything was just painfully slow. The thought of the letters, burning a hole in my kitchen table. 

“Mils, are we still good for tonight?” Lucy caught up to me in the carpark. 

“Yeah yeah. Come at six yeah? I’ll order us some dinner.” 

The minute I got home the nerves set in. It was only 3pm so I had time to bed rot. Which is exactly what I did. For two hours and 59 minutes. A knock on my door bought be out of the warmth of my bed. 

“Jesus Christ. I’m coming- oh shit. Is it already 6?” Lucy and Keira were standing in front of my apartment. 

“It is. Are you ok?” Keira’s voice held concern, as did her face. 

“Yeah no everything’s fine. I just lost track of time. Come in. I’ll order dinner.” I ushered them inside. 

The silence was awkward, the letters were still on the dining table. 

“Are you ok?” 

“I- um. I have to give you guys something.” I got up and picked up the letters. “Everything that’s happened is in those letters. Things I have only said out loud a couple of times. You can go into the other rooms if you want. I’m just going to sit here.” I pointed to the dining table, gave them their letters and then walked away. 

Keira opened hers first, after reading the first paragraph, she got up and walked to the other room.

Half way through the food was delivered. I took note of Lucy, sitting on the couch. Staring into space. I didn’t want to disturb her, so I just sat back down. 

Alexia Putellas 

Hey, how’d it go?

Amelia Higgins

Unsure 🫤 

Lucy is on the couch. Not talking

Keira is in the spare room. 

Almost directly after I hit send, I heard Keira come out of the bedroom. I watched her walk towards the front door, put her shoes and jacket on and leave. 

“Keira! Wait!” I yelled out, getting up quickly. Lucy grabbed my arm, pulling me into a tight hug. 

“Let her go. It’s a lot. She just needs some time. Can we talk about the letter? If you don’t want to we can do it a different time?” 

I agreed to answer whatever questions she had. We sat and talked about it for a few hours. Lucy cried, I cried, then she was mad. Not at me but at them, at the situation that forced things to change so desperately. I kept checking my phone to see if Keira had messaged or called. She hadn’t. I was worried, Lucy could sense it. 

“I’ll go check on her ok. I’ll text you once I have. Thank you for telling me, and for letting me ask questions. I’m proud of you, now and forever.” 

“Love you luce.” We hugged again, she kissed my forehead and then off she went. 

3 days. It had been three days since Keira and Lucy came to my apartment. 3 days since Keira left. 3 days since Lucy texted me and told me Keira was fine, she just needed some time to comprehend everything. I was starting to lose it. 

“I don’t understand Ale. I wrote the letter, I gave it to her, and she just left? She won’t talk to me or even look at me. What more can I do?” 

“Give her time amor. She will come to you when she’s ready.” 

“Time? Time! How much more fucking time do I need to give her! This is ridiculous.” My voice was very loud, carrying through the hallway and reaching a hiding Keira. 

“Bebé, come here.” Alexia pulled me into her chest, kissing my temple and holding me tight. “How about we go to the beach tonight? Take some dinner and have a picnic?” She moved her hands to cup my face. I nodded as best I could. 

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at 7.” She went to walk away but I pulled her back, pouting at her. She gave me a quick kiss and then dragged me along. 

Despite my best efforts, Keira continued to ignore me. Everyone started to notice, Lucy kept sending me sympathetic looks through training. It was pure hell. 

“Kei wait!” She continued to ignore me. “How much longer are you going to ignore me! I didn’t do anything wrong!” 

“You kept this all from me! For four years Amelia! Four fucking years. Then you tell Alexia first. Not me or Leah or even Lucy. You told Alexia! How is that fair?” The lock room went quiet. 

“Keira, come on. That’s not fair.” Lucy was trying hard to defuse the situation. 

“I am so sorry Keira that I didn’t tell you first. I’m sorry for not wanting to tell you the traumatic and disgusting details of what happened. But I did it to protect you. To protect this friendship.” 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” She was crying but also getting angrier. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

I looked around, the locker room was slowly thinning out but the captains, Mapi and Ingrid and Lucy remained. 

“Why would I? It doesn’t change anything Keira.” 

“I could’ve helped! You left and I could’ve helped you!” 

“Keira listen to me. You couldn’t help me. Not you, Leah, Lucy or anyone. I needed to figure shit out. How to live with what happened that night. I am sorry that I hurt you, truly I am, but telling you then would’ve only made you worry more or hurt you more.” 

She moved towards me, wrapping her arms around me and mumbling sorrys over and over again. It took a while for both of us to calm down. The locker room was empty by the time we left. Lucy and alexia were standing by their cars, wanting to ensure we were okay. 

Keira and Lucy left after a quick chat. Alexia and I milled around for a bit discussing our plans for tonight. We went our separate ways. 

Once I was home, I threw my dirty laundry in the washing machine, filled up the dishwasher and jumped in the shower. I washed my hair, shaved every single part of me that I could think of and then moisturised. 

Tonight was the night. I was sure of it. I sifted through my new lingerie, deciding on an orange set that looked amazing against my tanned skin. The thought of Alexia undressing me was exciting. 

Once I was completely satisfied with my outfit, I sat on the couch and waited. Thankfully I didn’t have to wait long because alexia buzzed on the intercoms. I got up and rushed to let her in, wanting to skip the whole dinner thing and go straight to dessert. 

“Dios mío, you look amazing.” She looked me up and down, taking a particularly long look at my legs that were barely hidden from my skirt. 

“Mm, so do you, let me get my keys?” I watched as she licked her lips and thrusted flowers into my hands. 

“For you!” She followed me inside as I got a vase for the flowers, I could fell her gaze on me as I moved around. 

“Okay, we need to leave now or we won’t leave at all.” There was a sense of urgency in her voice. As I looked up I noticed her eyes were completely black, she wanted this as much as I did. 

“Or we could just raincheck the beach? Stay in for the night?” I winked at her, before walking towards her, wrapping my arms around her waist. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes Alexia. Please. I will beg you.” Something switch in her. 

“Then beg.” Cockiness, eagerness, excitement. 

“Please fuck me. Right here, right now.” 

Her lips collided with mine. Hard. It was messy, a mix of teeth and tongue, fighting for dominance. I moaned as my back hit the bench, her hands coming to rest on my ass. 

Her lips made their way down my neck, sucking marks that I’d have to deal with later. 

“Up” she said as she grabbed my thighs. She helped me get onto the counter. She took a step back, staring at me. I felt small under her intense gaze. 

“We can stop if you want?” I didn’t want to stop, but I wanted her to be aware that we could if she wanted to. 

“I don’t want to. I just want to see how hot you are before I destroy you.” 

————————————————————————

I moaned as her hands slowly made their way up my thighs. Her mouth attacking my neck and collarbone, slowly making their way down to the collar of my shirt. 

“Can I take this off?” She stopped, looking at me. 

“Please.” It came out more as a moan than anything. 

“Holy fuck. You’re so perfect.” 

[tizeline]

So how long did it take for Draxum to go from Warring Warrior Scientist to 'I'm a single father of four(three) now and if anything happened to my beautiful babies I would kill everyone in the world and then myself"?

I like to think that the father instincts kicked in basically the moment he layed eyes on the mutated baby turtles, but he didn't really recognize them as father instincts until like... maybe a year or two into raising his kids.

He'd constantly be like "I shall read them bed time stories, give them hugs, make them food that they like, and so on because it is beneficial for their development and will make them more formidable soldiers as they grow older. No other reason." And then one day Huginn or Munninn would off-handedly refer to him as a dad and he'd have this whole existential crisis about how holy shit he IS a dad these are tiny little toddlers and he's responsible for them wtf!

It honestly wouldn't change his approach to how he raised the turtles that much, he was already subconciously acting like a parent in a lot of ways, he'd mostly just start being more concious of it. As well as starting to actively refer to himself as their father, and the turtles as his sons.