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ilikemenolderthanmyfather · 1 day ago

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AN OLD TOY

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Joel Miller x F!Reader

18+ !!MDNI!!

Warning:insecurities(Joel is getting old), rough sex, dubious consent, pet names, strong language and violence, male receiving, female receiving, bondage, cowgirl style, overstimulating, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, Joel is a whimperer, kidnapping(twice in the same day), forced marriage? Joel belly mentioned, enemies to lovers ish? Reader’s appearance, age and name is not mentioned or specified. Joel is a dildo. Joel is a survivor!

Summary: Joel gets kidnapped and used like a toy, and best of all, he gets the save a hoarse ride a cowboy treatment.

Words: 3K

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He was surrounded by seven men, all pointing their guns in his direction. Joel knew better than to try and fight back, he’d get a punch in, only to get shot down. That’s not what he needs right now, he needs to get back to Jackson and back to Ellie.

One of the men asked for his name, a common courtesy, too courtesy for this situation if you asked Joel, but he entertained the idea, why not? If he was gonna go out, or take them out, they’ll know to leave him the hell alone next time.

Two others stepped out of the way slightly and you walked past them, now standing only a couple of feet away from Joel.

He looked you up down, a slight glare on his face as he spoke “I don’t want trouble.”

You chuckled at that, “Oh but I do.”

He raised a brow at your words and was about to question you when he was suddenly grabbed by two of the men, holding Joel tightly as a grunt left him.

“Then what the hell do you want lady?!”, Joel questioned you with a bit more anger than intended and a sly smile spread across your face.

“A toy”

Joel stopped struggling as he looked up at you with wide yet concerned eyes. In his knowledge that could either mean a test subject where he’d get cut open or a damn slave, neither being good in this world.

He scoffed and struggling slightly against the two, “Well in that case ya can just shoot me, I ain’t becoming some damn lab rat!”

You stared at him and smirked “Oh you think you have a choice, mister Miller?”

You look at the men holding him “Drag him back to base, and don’t speak to my father about this, this is just between us and then I’ll make sure you’ll all get double your salary.”

They immediately pulled Joel along as he struggled against them, an accessional jab from a barrel of the rifle, putting him in his place.

After walking through the woods for what felt like an hour to Joel, they arrived at a very small base, the fences were high, a few houses could be seen.

You all walk in and the men holding Joel looked at you expectedly. Your eyes met Joel’s uncertain eyes for a second before looking at the men holding him.

“Take him to my room.” was all you said before walking away.

Meanwhile Joel was staring to rethink on those options that he had made, maybe he was wrong as he was pushed into a somewhat a building and finally into your bedroom.

In his shock and daze he was pushed to the ground and left there before the men walked out with mocking laughter.

Joel looked at the now locked door, his hands searching for any weapons, knives, anything that could help him out but it was already confiscated from him.

He stood there in silence as he looked closely at the bed and saw handcuffs on the headboard, his eyes wide with suspicion and questions.

Joel walked closer and in his distracted state did not hear or see you walk in the room.

He slowly turned around with a scowl before two hands pushed against his chest as the back of his legs gave in against the bed. Before he could push back, his wrists were cuffed against the headboard.

He looked up at you with a wide eyes “The fuc-?!”

You shushed him, “Don’t worry I’m not gonna go rough on you…..too much, you’re old.”

Joel scoffed a bit, "Hm, what are you gonna do with me? Whatever you do, can't be any worse than some of the stuff I've been through."

You chuckled, “Well eh, I’m pretty sure you’ve never been through this before.”

He looked back at his cuffed wrists before glaring back at you, awaiting an explanation.

You sighed and sat back onto his thighs, “You see, I’m very needy and like I said, I need a toy and I’m not gonna stop until you either give out or your dick falls off.”

You traced your finger along his jacket as his eyes went wide at your crude words, with slight horror and something else he wasn’t gonna admit out loud, arousal but especially concern.

Joel wasn’t your standard young man anymore, even he came to accept it. He wasn’t gonna complain about it. He can’t even remember the last time he had taken the time to touch himself, maybe once or twice if he wasn’t on edge from almost getting killed but this was way out of his range and capabilities, as embarrassing as it was to admit.

Joel gathered his thoughts, “Wait wait wait wait-" He tugged at the cuffs a bit, trying to struggle against them, but the cuffs were on pretty tightly. “I-I don’t think I can, sweetheart.”

You smiled “Oh come on, you’re a man with experience!”

He shook his head, “Not to mention, old. I can’t even…get it up right” , he admitted with embarrassment.

You laughed as he looked away “Just take what I give, mister Miller, can I call you Joel? I’m gonna call you Joel, mister Miller seems too formal for what I’m gonna do to you.”

He laid his head back into the pillow with concern. You immediately undid his belt that was pushing against his belly before pulling down his pants and underwear, his shoes going down with em.

A gasp left him as the air hit his bare lower body. You slowly spread his legs and Joel immediately closed them with a small glare. You glared back “Be good Joel or I’ll shoot your dick off instead, take a pick.”

He grew slightly worried and spread his thighs reluctantly. You smiled and gave his inner thigh a kiss “See that wasn’t so hard”

His cock stirred up slightly from your attention, cursing to himself. Your hand slowly wrapped around him, slowly moving up and down as short breaths left him.

Joel’s eyes shot wide open as a loud gasp left his mouth when you suddenly took him in all the way, your lips pressing against the hair at the base of his cock. Your mouth sucked him hard and his cock quickly grew stiff with the new found attention.

He could only watch with wide eyes as you sucked him like a damn straw, little whines of protest leaving his mouth, too much and too fast.

You smiled and started moving your head up and down, drool dripping past your lips and onto his hairs as filthy sounds of your slurping, filled the room.

His eyes watched your every move, he’s never felt this hot and filthy at the same time. You kept your focus on your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you’re wetting his dick as much as possible.

Joel couldn’t even remember the last time he got head, yes he had a few sucks here and there from ex’s but that was it. They always expected him to do the work, not that he minded it, he liked being in control and controlling the pace.

His ex wife wouldn’t even suck him off though, unless he ask and begged her nicely, only getting a few tugs at his dick before he had to do all the work. Thats how it’s always been, doing all the work and then being ungrateful for it, leaving him on the edge like that as he quietly tugs at himself to relieve some of the pressure.

But he wasn’t that young champ anymore. For crying out loud he can’t even last more than one round anymore when he’s by himself. If his younger self was here, he’d probably laugh at how easy he has become.

A tight suck around his tip, made him snap out of his thoughts and threw his head back while his hips thrusted up to get more of your sweet lips.

You glared at his distracted gaze, hollowing around his sensitive tip as another gasp left his trembling body “O-Oh shit!”

You groaned around him, the vibrations tingling his lower belly before you pulled away “You focus on me, only me, Joel”

He looked at you with slight disappointment and arousal, not saying anything as he breathed heavily.

You scoffed before taking off your clothes, if Joel wasn’t hard before, then he’s definitely hard now. He could only ogle at your form before looking away in shame, truly pathetic what a perverted old man he’s become.

Your fingers quickly unzipped his jacket and opened it “I should have probably taken your clothes off before hand, meh, doesn’t matter now.”

Slowly you pulled his shirt up, making sure to drag your hand over Joel’s soft belly and chest as he shivered. As soon as his shirt was rolled up to his neck, you leaned down and kissed his lower stomach, slowly making your way up as your other hand pulled on his dick.

He could only watch with half lidded eyes, his insecurities taking over as you gently kissed him, small breaths leaving his lips as Joel closed his eyes, his hips jerking against your tugging.

You lined yourself up with him, your dripping pussy swallowing him in with ease. Joel watched as you slowly lowered yourself down on him, a deep groan leaving his lips.

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you take him all the way, your clit rubbing against his hairs “So good~mmm” your eyebrows pulled together in concentration as you focused on his cock, pushing against every spongy part inside of you, just right.

Joel watched you closely, his hips rocking slightly, trying hard not to just give in and fuck up into you.

You slowly dragged your hips back and forth, trying to catch a pace. Soon enough your slow grinding turned into a full on bounce of desperation for some relief as you moaned out softly “Joel!~”

Joel on the other hand was clenching his teeth and pulling on his restraints as groans fell from his lips, his eyes shut tightly as your slick walls sucked him in deep. “S-shit sweetheart! Oh, Oh wait~! Oh!”

He threw his head back and planted his feet into the sheets as his hips started thrusting up into your clenching pussy.

A surprised gasp left your throat as the thrusting from his hips and the grinding of your clit, quickly made you reach your peak. Your body shuddered as you clenched around him.

Joel groaned softly as he pumped his warm cum into you, a breathless sigh leaving his lips as his legs gave out and laid flat against the bed.

His eyes were shut tightly and breathed softly as tiredness started creeping into his old body.

Suddenly a continuous rise and fall of your hips made his eyes snap open and a whine of protest left his lips. You shushed him and gave him a displeased look before going back to ridding him.

Joel breathed heavily as your walks worked his now sensitive cock, his tip twitching in pleasure as you continue to use him like a toy.

“Fuck sweetheart! I can’t! I-Oh~oh” Joel could only lay there and take it as you moaned out his name.

Your ass grinds against his tightening balls as his tip pushes against your womb and a white ring forming at the base of his cock. He looked at you with concern and pleasure, feeling his lower belly tightening up again, sweat falling from the crook of his eyebrow.

He moaned out softly as he shot out another warm load. You whine softly as you grind against him at a new angle, working him through his orgasm as his started tugging on the cuffs in protest, overstimulation taking over slowly.

You however ignored him and continued to bounce on him continuously, his limp cock twitching in protest as Joel whined out, “Please have mercy!”

You quickened your pace, head thrown back “Joel~oh yes, one more, give me one more!~” your swollen clit being rubbed by his hair perfectly as your lower stomach tightened up, Joel could only shake his head in protest as his cock hardened again.

His tip splurged small drops of what he had left and looked at you with a begging expression. You groaned and slammed your hips tightly against him, his hairs tickling your clit as his balls tighten up against his wishes, his frame trembling at the stimulation.

Your grinding became more harsh as you neared your orgasm once more, soft moans of his name falling from your lips as his cock is pushing in deeper, a breathless moan falls from his lip as his balls emptied out and shot thick warm cum into you once more.

You work him through his orgasm as you threw your head back in bless before tightening around him harshly, a whine falling from his lips as you work yourself through your orgasm.

The roll of your hips came to an agonizingly slow stop as you looked down at him.

You both started at each other in silence, a tired, half lidded look on his face. You leaned down and kissed him gently, a kiss he desperately returned as his hips twitched against you.

You took that as a sign to continue and started bouncing your hips again, Joel shook his head in protest “Fuck! No no please, ah~ no wait! Use my face but fuck! Please I can’t it hurts” he admitted with a small pleading look.

You stared at him for a moment before pulling off him, a groan leaving his lips. You place your thighs on either side of his head before lowering onto his mouth that gladly started sucking on your puffy clit.

You let out a shaky breath and held his hair with your hands, his facial hair tickling against you.

His tongue quickly made its way into you, slurping and curling against all the right places. He looked up at you with focus and determination as you neared your peak again, your walls tightened around his tongue that seemed to have suddenly sped up and curled against that sweet spot inside you.

His nose pushed against your puffy nub continuously as your legs started shaking “O-oh yes, Yes Joel!~”

His groan only added to the pressure before you curled up and rode out your orgasm. He worked you through it slowly before you pulled away.

Joel watched you get off the bed with slightly shaky legs, you walked into the bathroom and started filling up the tub. Joel only laid there in utter shock and bless as tiredness started creeping in.

Suddenly you walked back out and took something out of the drawer before walking towards him. He looked at you with tired eyes as you suddenly start to open the cuffs.

“No sneaky shit” you gave him a warning before he sat up with a grunt, rubbing his wrists slightly as he looked up at you with those innocent puppy brown eyes.

You sighed and walked into the bathroom, a slight signal for him to follow. He took off his shirt and jacket, following after you with a slight limp in his walk.

His eyes fell on you sitting in a bathtub, he suddenly became a little self conscious when you looked at him.

You voiced cut through the silence, “Well get in while the water is still warm.”

Joel just gave a nod and got in and sat between your thighs. You stare at his back for a second and he leaned back slowly but suddenly stopped, you glared “Don’t you dare-“ before you could finish, Joel suddenly knocked out you with the back of his head.

Joel quickly bathed and felt bad and quickly washed you before draining the water. He hurriedly dried himself off and got dressed.

He stared at you, still very much knocked out and sighed softly. Maybe it won’t be too bad having company when he gets back to Jackson. Besides Ellie has been bothering him for years about getting a girlfriend, “Teenagers” he scoffed softly with a smile before it turned into a smirk.

You slowly woke up on a bed far more softer than the one you’ve grown use to. A grunt left your lips and placed your hands on your head where Joel had head budded you.

Your eyes snap open “That son of a-where the fuck am I?” You looked around the cozy yet unfamiliar room. You quickly got up from the bed and stumbled towards a window, your eyes going wide when you read the sign [Welcome to Jackson].

Your eyes snapped open in horror “Fucking Jackson?!” Suddenly a familiar voice could be heard as Joel walked into the room “Nice huh?”

You glared at his smirking face “I’m gonna-“ Joel shushed her “Now now, you ain’t back home and unfortunately for you I got many…..I have friends here in Jackson and they’ll shoot without needing to be asked, so be nice sweetheart.”

You scoffed and clenched your fists onto the jacket that you woke up in, your eyes glanced down at it, realizing it was his.

Your body turned to look out the window with a look of disbelief and crossed your arms. Joel walked closer and wrapped an arm around your middle gently. You sighed softly “You are such an ass, so what now?”

Joel smiled “Says you” you looked at him and he just shrugged and stared out the window “Well I kinda told everyone you’re my girlfriend…and that we’re getting married soon so if ye try and run away, they’ll think you’re ill and will bring ya back to me”

You slowly turned your head to look at him, he looked at you and gave you a smile.

“YOU SON OF A B-!”

Meanwhile Ellie and Dina looked at Joel and you through the window. Dina smiled with a concerned look “I’m happy that Joel finally found someone, but eh, if you ask me that’s a lot of slapping coming from her.” Ellie shrugged “Well from the magazines I’ve found in his closet, he might just be into that.”

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tb3ih · 11 hours ago

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flesh-eater! ft. gojo satoru

you were his bride-to-be. who other than you had the right to completely consume fiance!gojo satoru's entire existence?

⋆ contains... fem!reader, pussy-drunk!satoru, oral (fem receiving), rough/raw (unprotected) sex, a smidge of praise/degredation, mentions of past enemies to lovers, creampie, breeding kink if you squint...

⋆ a/n... this is absolute filth. also, my roommate said not to say 'weeping mushroom' so i didn't. :)

you can take my flesh if you want, girl... ...but baby don't abuse it

CONSUME by chase atlantic

god, he thinks, he must be intoxicated. there's a thigh slung over his shoulder and sharp acrylics tangled in his hair. there's a burning sensation on his scalp from the dragging of your nails against his head but such pain is insignificant as he finds himself drunk on the meal before him.

and you are a mess. back arched off the marble counter, expensive gown hardly secured around your trembling figure, lipstick so deliciously smeared.

just the thought of how the men at your engagement party had let their eyes wander about your smiling image was enough to rip a growl from his chest. he presses the flat of his tongue against your clit and observes from half-lidded eyes the way your whole body shudders.

he likes the way you gasp his name, so he does it again and relishes the way the syllables of his name roll off your tongue.

"that's my fuckin' name, sweetheart," he rasps, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh in praise. he can tell you're on the brink of an orgasm from the way you whimper when he pulls his fingers from inside you. he makes a show of cleaning you off of his fingers, the corners of his lips curling amusedly at how intently you watch him. "glad you remembered it."

strong hands pressing to the back of your thighs, the white-haired male's got your knees practically pinned to your chest, effectively folding you in half. he shushes the whine ready to leave your lips, capturing your lips in his as he undresses and haphazardly tosses the rest of his expensive suit somewhere in this huge kitchen.

the way he presses his body into yours can only be described as desperate; his lips have left yours and find themselves whispering secrets into your skin, leaving trails of scarlet letters to litter your skin.

he groans into your skin when you roll your hips into his, the lace on your panties causing his cock to twitch as it drags on the sensitive length. "...please... satoru?"

and you don't have to ask him twice because while it may look like you were being absolutely devoured, it was quite rather the opposite.

unfortunately, satoru had been a little slow on the acceptance that once you had rooted yourself into the crevices of his heart, he'd never see the end of it with you.

you and your witty remarks or snide comments intended to belittle him and his pretentious self. god, he didn't quite remember when the irritation shifted into craving but what he did know was that he never wanted to be without it.

he was completely and utterly consumed by you.

the gown you had on was next, his hands not even caring to find the claps barely holding the garment together, instead settling to tear it apart to get to you.

when he hears you gasp, he's quick to mumble that he'll "replace it with something even prettier" before his one of his hands presses flat on your lower abdomen, the other around his throbbing length. the air in his throat catches when he presses his weeping tip against your clit, pupils blown wide as he watches the way you squirm beneath him.

he's too busy to admiring you to notice the way you try to shift closer to him impatiently. you've seemed to gain a little consciousness having come down from your high. "how about you put your money where your mouth is," you start, eyebrow raising in a challenge, "and fuck your fiance?"

the things you did to him, he thinks, how did he let it get this bad? and because he is gojo satoru, he takes the bait, pressing in just enough to have you clenching around nothing. "and what are the magic words?"

ha! he watches your lips twist, that glint in your eyes he knows so well only feeding the burning in his veins. "either you do it, or i show you how much i can do it better."

and he snaps.

his lips are on yours, stealing the oxygen from your lungs when he doesn't allow you even a second to adjust as he pushes into you, stretching you open and filling you up till he bottoms out. it's his pride on the line now, and even more his dignity because you knew exactly what you were doing.

it's disgusting the sounds you make; he's uttering nonsense curses and praises against your next as he buries himself between your thighs repeatedly. you're falling apart on the marble, hands finding anything of him that they can; scratching, pulling, squeezing. the hand on your abdomen presses and you can feel the coil in your stomach tightening again, everywhere your skin finds his burning.

you're clenching around him, thighs tightening around his waist yet he never ceases his pace. he twitches inside you, voice strained and desperate as he starts to chant your name like a mantra. he doesn't even get a warning, other than your scream, before your gushing around him, your slick coating his lower abdomen and thighs.

you look, he thinks, feeling his own high creeping up on him, absolutely ravishing. make up smeared and runny, skin littered with love bites, naked figure shaking from your orgasm high. disgusting and absolutely delicious.

you're nearly fucked stupid, eyes shut tight as you endure the overstimulation. you almost miss it if not for the final "fuck" your fiance utters before throwing his head back, last thrust incomparably deep. he's cumming and it's hot and warm and you just feel so full. there's a white ring forming around his length where you end and it isn't until he pulls out do you realize just how full you were.

he watches with a satisfied curve to his lips as it gushes from your sensitive entrance, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath.

you inhabit every inch of his soul and he couldn't possibly fathom a world where he wouldn't be delighted to have you do so.

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paishoeyeroh · 3 days ago

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Bearer And The Bound

☰ Pairings: Sukuna x Reader, Slight Megumi x Reader

✧ Summary: When you stumble upon an ancient ring in an abandoned house, you unknowingly bind yourself to a cruel, powerful demon who thrives on torment. Trapped in a reluctant bond and forced to navigate a shared existence, Sukuna plots your downfall while you fight to survive his sadistic games. But as your fates entwine and secrets of Sukuna’s dark past begin to unravel, the lines between enemy and ally start to blur.

✧ Tags: True form Sukuna, Enemies to Lovers, Dark Romance, Demonic Bonds, Heavy Angst, Slow Burn, Sukuna is Bad at Feelings, Possessive Sukuna, Tension, Forced Proximity, Eventual Smut, College/University AU, More Tags To Be Added Later

✧ Status: Ongoing

✧ You can also read it on AO3

☰ CHAPTER TEN: Fracture

Chapter Summary: You push. Sukuna breaks.

☰ Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Sukuna is ignoring you.

At first, you don’t think too much of it, assuming he’s just quiet this morning. You hadn’t seen him since last night, after all, and you figured things might be a little… tense. But by the time you’re sitting through your first lecture, tapping your pen against your notebook in distraction, the truth becomes evident. He’s doing it on purpose.

No odd comments thrown your way, no dry observations, no flickering glances. He follows, because he has to, but he doesn’t acknowledge you once. It’s as though you don’t exist.

You try to push it aside, to focus on your professor’s voice, on the words you should be writing down, but it hurts. There’s no denying that.

There’s really only one explanation for his coldness. Last night. The way you were drawn to each other like magnets. And then, Megumi’s call. A reminder of the one person Sukuna seems to despise, though you’ve never been entirely sure why. He’s never liked Megumi, never tried to hide his distaste. Whatever his reasoning, you know the timing isn’t a coincidence. Whether it was the moment itself or the interruption that followed, it’s clearly bothering him.

And if it’s not? If there’s something else behind his silence? That thought is even more frustrating, because it means you still don’t know what’s going on inside his head at all.

Between classes, you catch sight of a familiar head of pink hair bobbing above the crowd. Yuji. At the sight of him, you remember your conversation with Megumi last night. You decide to call out his name.

He turns immediately, eyes lighting up the second he spots you. A wide grin spreads across his face, and before you can brace yourself, he’s bounding toward you, all but skipping across the hall.

“Hey!” he exclaims, wrapping you in a tight, familiar hug. The embrace is warm, effortless, and you sink into it without hesitation. A real, genuine smile tugs at your lips, one you didn’t have to force. His energy, so bubbly and contagious, fills your insides with light, chasing away the darkness you’ve been carrying all morning.

“I was just thinking about you! Nobara and Megumi are coming over later to hang out. Wanna come?” he tilts his head closer to you, his hand coming up to cup the side of his mouth as he lowers his voice, “there’ll be weed and snaaaacks,” he sing-songs, as if he’s trying to bribe you into coming.

You giggle at his antics, but you feel a tight pang in your stomach at the realization that he’s trying to convince you, probably because he thinks you don’t want to go.

“Alright, I’ll come. But I’m not smoking any of your weed. Not after what happened last time,” you say with a grimace. Yuji’s weed is always incredibly strong, and since you’re not much of a smoker anyway, it had too great of an effect on you the last time you tried it. You don’t even want to think about it. The head spinning. The paranoia. The crying. Not fun.

Yuji throws his head back as he laughs, squeezing his eyes shut tight, and you have no doubt the memory is playing back through his mind.

“Oh yeah! I forgot about that. Good times,” he mocks as his hand comes up to squeeze your shoulder. “Well, just come over whenever after class. Nobara and Megumi are catching a ride with me, so we’ll all be there.” He waves his hand at you as he walks away. “See ya later!”

You find yourself still smiling long after Yuji passes by you in the hallway, his bright and bubbly mood never failing to cheer you up. Tonight is going to be just what you need.

As long as Sukuna behaves with Megumi around.

Your smile immediately falters at the thought. You glance over at him, standing a few feet away leaned up against the lockers, looking in the opposite direction of you. You sigh as you head to your next class.

The rest of the school day goes by quickly, now that you have something to look forward to. As Sukuna continues to neglect your existence, you become more and more certain that he will keep up the charade at Yuji’s place. The thought almost comforts you. Maybe it’ll feel like old times again, before you ever put on that damned ring.

You make your way up to Yuji’s apartment, lightly rapping your knuckles against the door.

It flings open suddenly, and Yuji’s standing there in all his marijuana-induced glory, having clearly started smoking already. His eyes are half-lidded and red rimmed, and there’s a wide, goofy smile plastered across his face as he welcomes you.

“Heeey! Guys, I told you she’d come!” he shouts back to the others, before beckoning you inside. You take a step in, with Sukuna following behind you before Yuji closes the door.

The moment you step inside, the thick, unmistakable scent of weed hits your nostrils. It’s warm in here, cozy in that lazy, indulgent kind of way. The coffee table is a mess of half eaten snacks—open bags of chips, crumpled candy wrappers, a box of cookies that’s already looking dangerously empty. And right in the middle of it all, Yuji’s bong sits proudly, a testament to the night they’ve obviously already been having.

Megumi is sprawled out on the couch, legs spread wide, looking more relaxed than you’ve seen him in months. His head tips lazily toward you, and a slow, lopsided smile spreads across his lips as he greets you. You return it, unable to control the tugging at your lips at the sight of him so at ease for once.

Yuji flops down beside him with a satisfied sigh, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. Meanwhile, you settle onto the floor next to Nobara, who turns to you with a look of pure relief.

“Thank god you’re here. I can’t listen to those two anymore, especially Yuji. I think I can actually feel him making me dumber.”

“That’s not because of me, it’s the weed, idiot,” Yuji quips, ducking to avoid the pillow she throws at his head in response.

You laugh, shaking your head, as you turn back to Nobara. “How’d your date go the other night?”

She immediately rolls her eyes, reaching into her bag of chips and pulling out a handful. “Ugh, don’t even get me started,” she shoves the chips into her mouth, crunching loudly. “First, he didn’t open the door for me. Then, he tried to, like, order my own food for me? And to top it all off, he didn’t even compliment my outfit!” she crushes her bag of chips in her fist in anger.

“So, naturally, I ghosted his ass. I don’t have time for that kind of disrespect.”

“Naturally,” you snort, as Megumi coughs loudly, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke as he takes a rip of the bong. He reaches out, offering it to you.

“Want some?”

You turn to him, shaking your head.

“Nah, I’m good.” you decline, watching him pass the bong to Yuji. As you do, you notice something out of the corner of your eye. It’s Sukuna, and you watch as he rounds the corner, walking out of sight. Probably off to go pout somewhere by himself like a sullen child, you think as you inwardly roll your eyes. You have no intention of dealing with that for the remainder of the night. You quickly turn your head back to the group as Megumi speaks.

“Guys, can we put a different show on?” he asks, his voice strained, almost pleading. He swallows thickly, his gaze locked onto the screen like it’s about to crawl out and grab him. “This one’s freaking me out.”

Yuji squints at the screen, then back at Megumi.

“What? It’s just Pokémon, dude,” he says before he leans forward, studying Megumi like he’s the most fascinating thing in the room. “Are you good?”

Megumi stands shakily, his face pale, quickly making his way down the hall. “I’ll be back,” he weakly mutters over his shoulder.

Nobara and Yuji watch him for a moment, bursting out in simultaneous laughter after the bathroom door slams shut.

“He must’ve smoked too much. He’s probably in there freaking out,” Nobara manages to get out through her wheezes.

“It’s not his fault,” you defend, “Yuji’s weed is way too strong. Last time I smoked with you guys, I convinced myself I was in a simulation.”

You shudder as you recall the memory, but it only encourages another round of cackles from the two.

You watch them for a moment, trying to contain your own laughter. But after what feels like way too long for a regular trip to the bathroom, Megumi still hasn’t returned.

You glance over at Yuji and Nobara, but they’re engrossed in their own conversation. They’ve either forgotten about the situation entirely or are too high to care. Or both. You realize that you’re going to have to be the one to go check on the poor guy.

You stand up with a sigh, preemptively pouring a glass of water in the kitchen before heading down the hall.

As you pass by Yuji’s bedroom, the open door offers a glimpse inside. You glance in casually, only to stop dead in your tracks at what you see.

Sukuna is there.

Flat on his back, sprawled across Yuji’s bed, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. But something’s off.

His upper set of hands are thrown over his face, fingers digging into his forehead, covering his eyes like he’s trying to block out the world. The lower set of hands are clenched into fists, the muscles in his forearms tight, twitching with some kind of barely restrained force. You don’t even have to see his face to know he’s seething. Pure, unadulterated anguish radiates off of him, thick enough to suffocate the air in your lungs.

You watch him for a second, concern twisting deep in your gut. You’ve never seen him like this. Ever. Sukuna does not unravel. But here he is, unraveling right in front of you, completely unaware that he now has an audience.

Your lips part, the start of his name forming on your tongue, but before you can speak, his hands slide up, gripping into his hair with so much force it looks like he might tear it straight from his skull.

You stand in the doorway, mouth open, quickly snapping it closed when you notice the look on his face.

His eyes are squeezed shut, brows furrowed so tight it looks like it hurts. His lips part slightly as he exhales a slow, trembling breath, one that sounds like it’s been forced from the depths of his chest. His jaw clenches, the muscles flexing repeatedly, and his fingers tighten their grip on his hair almost desperately, as if he’s trying to anchor himself, to keep from coming apart entirely.

Your own breath stills in your throat. Every muscle in your body goes rigid, your mind struggling to catch up with what you’re seeing.

What the hell is going on?

A lump forms in your throat as you try to make sense of it. He’s been avoiding you all day, shutting you out since last night, and now… this? The distance, the cold silence, was all a cover, that much is clear now. But for what?

A part of you wants to go to him. To reach out, to touch him, to offer anything that might ease whatever war is raging inside of him. The urge claws at you, visceral and insistent, your arms aching to wrap around him in comfort.

But another part of you hesitates.

I shouldn’t be here.

You’re witnessing something raw, something unguarded and deeply, painfully human. A moment he never meant for anyone to see—least of all you. You’ve been toeing a dangerous line with Sukuna for a while now, but this… this feels like stepping over it. Stumbling over it, straight into a place you don’t belong.

You should leave.

The need to understand him, to help him, gnaws at you like a hunger, but he isn’t someone who needs things like that. Sukuna doesn’t want help. He is power. He is control.

But right now…

He looks like he has neither.

You catch yourself before you do something you’ll regret, clenching your hands around the glass of water you’d forgotten you were holding. Slowly, as to not make a sound, you creep past the doorway, heading over to the bathroom.

You press your ear against the door, listening for any sign of life from inside. Nothing. No movement, no shuffling. Only silence.

After a brief hesitation, you turn the knob and push the door open, peeking your head inside.

Megumi is sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his elbows braced against his knees, his head cradled in his hands. His shoulders rise and fall with slow, deliberate breaths, the kind you take when you’re trying to will your heartbeat to steady.

“Megumi?”

He lifts his head at the sound of your voice, blinking sluggishly. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, his pupils blown wide. It takes him a second to register you standing there, and when he does, his posture stiffens just a little. A ghost of a smile flickers across his lips—weak, sheepish—before he clears his throat.

“I’m alright, I just needed to chill in here for a second.”

You step into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind you before lowering yourself onto the floor beside him. The cool tiles press against your legs as you settle in close to his feet, holding out the glass.

“Here, drink this. I got you some water.”

Megumi takes it, fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment. He doesn’t look at you right away, instead staring down at the rim of the glass like it suddenly holds the secrets of the universe.

“Thanks,” he mutters, finally lifting it to his lips. He swallows a few careful sips before adding, “Sorry for ruining the vibe.”

You shake your head, lips twitching into a small smile as you reach out, rubbing his arm in comfort.

“Don’t worry about it,” you assure him, your voice soft, “you didn’t ruin anything.”

That gets him to look at you, but only briefly, his eyes flickering to yours before darting away. He shifts slightly on the edge of the tub.

You grin, deciding to tease him just a little. “Come back out whenever you’re ready. Oh, and I’ll make sure that show isn’t on when you do.”

His lips part slightly before pressing into a flat line. A weak chuckle escapes him, half amusement, half mortification. “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

You squeeze his arm lightly before rising to your feet. As you do, you glance down at him one last time, watching as he rubs the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. Stifling a giggle, you reach for the doorknob.

“See you out there,” you say, stepping through the doorway.

As you make your way back to the living room, you pass by Yuji’s room once again. This time, you keep your gaze fixed straight ahead, resisting the urge to steal another glance inside. If Sukuna were to catch you looking, even for a second, he’d know you saw him earlier. He always knows. And you’re not sure you’d be able to school your expression fast enough to keep the truth from spilling across your face.

Right now isn’t the time to deal with whatever it is Sukuna’s got going on. Right now, you just want to have fun with your friends. You can deal with anything else once you get home.

That’s what you keep telling yourself.

Upon re-entering the living room, you notice the show from earlier has already been turned off, the soft hum of music filling the space instead—low, rhythmic beats that sink into the atmosphere like a gentle pulse. Yuji is sprawled across the couch on his back with a half-eaten chip bag laying forgotten on his lap, one arm tucked behind his head, the other drumming lazy fingers against his stomach in time with the music. His gaze is fixed on the ceiling, his expression distant, no doubt lost somewhere in the hazy lull of his high.

Nobara mirrors his sprawl on the floor, phone in hand, absentmindedly scrolling as she occasionally pops a chip into her mouth. You retake your spot beside her, snatching one from the bag without a word.

“Do you think that grass is, like, the earth’s pubic hair?”

“Yuji. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Nobara responds immediately. Based on her reply, you can only assume this has been going on for a while.

“I’m just saying! It makes sense if you think about it.”

“He’s kinda got a point,” you add with an amused tilt of your lips.

“Please, don’t encourage him.”

“You guys just need to get on my level. Nobody’s on my level,” Yuji pouts.

Before anyone can respond, Megumi reappears, looking far better than he did before. His complexion is no longer pale, his movements steadier, the color returned to his cheeks. He runs a hand through his hair as he steps into the room, shaking off the last remnants of his ordeal.

“Welcome back, buddy!” Yuji exclaims, immediately sitting up to make room for him on the couch. “We were worried about you! Were you fighting demons in there or what?”

Megumi levels a deadpan look at him before scanning the room, his gaze settling on you and Nobara before he sinks back into his previous spot. In one swift motion, he reaches over and swipes the bag of chips right off Yuji’s lap with a little more force than necessary.

“Nobody speaks of this outside of this room,” he says, voice flat as he pops a chip into his mouth. “Or you’re all dead.”

“Alright, jeez. Relax. Not like we’ve never greened out before,” Nobara mutters without looking up from her phone.

As the night winds down, conversations fade into a comfortable lull, and Nobara suggests putting on a movie. You settle in as it plays, watching it unfold on screen, but your mind is elsewhere now.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t stop thinking about what you saw in Yuji’s room—Sukuna lying there, his hands fisted in his hair like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will, seemingly teetering on the edge of some sort of breakdown.

You’ve never seen him like that, so unguarded, so vulnerable. You’ve seen him express emotion, sure. Anger, usually. Or quieter flickers hidden beneath sharp words and sharper smiles. But you’ve never seen something like that, not from him. It was unsettling, to say the least.

Is it because of me?

The question nags at you, digging into your ribs like a phantom dagger, whispering doubts into the corners of your mind.

Would he be angry if he knew you saw him like that? Or would he shut you out even more?

The idea sends a wave of sadness through you. Your heart aches for him. Whatever it is he’s going through, you have a sinking feeling that he’ll never open up, no matter how much you pry.

You shift in your spot, eyes flitting toward Yuji’s bedroom before quickly turning away.

Don’t.

The urge to check on him gnaws at you, but after the cold shoulder he’s been giving you all day, you doubt he’d give you the answers you’re looking for.

So instead, you decide it’s time to head home for the night. Yujis passed out anyway, having fallen asleep almost as soon as the movie started, and Megumi looks like he’s close behind him. You stand, gathering your things as you whisper your goodbyes, heading to the door.

Just as your fingers curl around the doorknob and open it to step outside, Sukuna appears, rounding the corner with his usual quiet grace. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t look anywhere but forward. He just slips past you and steps out the door ahead of you, carefully maneuvering his body so that his arm doesn’t so much as slightly brush your own.

You exhale slowly, watching his back as he strides ahead, his steps long and deliberate. You’re not surprised to see him keeping up his silent act. He doesn’t know that you saw him in Yuji’s room, after all. He doesn’t know you stood there, rooted in place, witnessing him beginning to unravel at the seams.

You step outside after him, the cold air a sharp contrast to the cozy warmth of Yuji’s apartment, slapping you like an icy wake-up call. Sukuna is already way ahead of you. The wind tugs at the strands of his hair, but he doesn’t react—just keeps walking, his movements purposeful, controlled.

By the time you reach the car, he’s already inside, the door shutting with a firm click. You sigh, tightening the grip on your keys.

You settle into the driver's seat, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. The hum of the car feels louder than usual in the empty space between you. Neither of you says a word.

You want to say something, anything, to break this awkward tension. But… what can you say? You glance over in his direction briefly, but Sukuna is turned away, the side of his face barely visible in the dim light coming off the dashboard. You can’t tell if he’s avoiding you, or just lost in his own thoughts. Probably both. Either way, you can feel the distance continuing to grow between you with every minute that ticks by.

You clench your jaw, fighting the urge to demand an explanation for his behavior today.

Just drive.

When you finally pull into the parking lot to your apartment, Sukuna doesn’t wait. As soon as the car comes to a stop and you shut the engine off, he’s already out, his door slamming shut before you can un-click your seatbelt.

You watch his back as he walks ahead, his long strides forcing you to pick up your pace just to keep up. With every step, frustration burns hotter inside of you, winding itself around the ache that’s been sitting there since you saw him in Yuji’s room.

Why won’t he let you in? He’s hurting, you saw it with your own eyes. So why is he still keeping you at arm’s length? Why does he insist on suffering in silence when you’re right here?

By the time you reach the door to your apartment, your chest feels tight with your unspoken thoughts, the urge to voice them aloud becoming harder and harder to resist. You step inside right behind him, closing the door softly despite your inner turmoil threatening to spill over. And once again, Sukuna moves past you without a word, already striding down the hall, probably planning to disappear to wherever the hell he goes when he doesn’t want to be seen.

You make a quick decision. You’ve had enough of being ignored. You can’t just keep pretending everything is fine, like you’re sure he intends to. You have to say something.

“Sukuna.”

He stops, turning halfway around to face you. You study him carefully, searching for even the faintest trace of what you witnessed earlier—the tension in his jaw, the desolation in his face, the silent war he was waging within himself.

But there’s nothing.

Where there should be emotion—something raw and real—there is only an empty stare, a hollow reflection of the man you know lurks beneath his mask.

Cold. Dark. Void.

It’s a door slammed shut, an unspoken message that whatever moment of weakness you glimpsed was never meant for you.

The air between you grows infinitely heavier, colder. You can almost physically feel it, the absence of him, like something vital has been drained from the space he occupies. It prickles at your skin, wrapping itself around you, a quiet, almost suffocating numbness that mirrors the emptiness in his gaze.

He raises his brows at you, waiting for you to continue.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“Have I?” his voice is steady, indifferent.

You fold your arms across your chest, feeling your irritation finally rising to the surface. “Yes. You haven’t said a word to me all day. You haven’t even looked at me, not since—“ you cut yourself off, afraid to bring up the almost-kiss directly, “not since last night.”

Sukuna turns away, dismissing you with the shift of his shoulders, as if the conversation itself is beneath him. “There’s nothing to say,” he replies flatly, his tone impersonal, like he’s already decided this discussion isn’t worth his time.

But you refuse to allow him to slip through your fingers so easily. “Come on, don’t do that,” you step closer to him, determined to not let him brush it off, “don’t just… shut me out. Haven’t we moved past this?” your voice softens, the concern evident in your words.

Sukuna remains still, his shoulders drawn tight, his entire body wound like a thread stretched too thin. He doesn’t turn to respond, but his silence speaks louder than any answer he could give. And still, you push, even knowing it might only drive him further away.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?” you continue, your frustration giving way to something dangerously close to pleading. “I’ve opened up to you about everything—about my past, my ex, my life. You’ve basically seen it all. But you? You’ve given me nothing. You hide behind this wall like you’re… some… untouchable thing.”

At that, Sukuna finally turns his head, just slightly, his narrowed eyes settling on you over his shoulder. There’s a shift in the way his eyes almost darken, like a tide pulling back before the wave crashes. His voice is low, almost a growl.

“What exactly do you want from me?”

His question stings, cutting deep. Your throat constricts, like his own words have wrapped themselves tight around your airway, but you swallow hard, willing yourself to push through it.

“I want you to stop pretending that this means nothing to you,” you say, gesturing between the two of you, between the space that feels impossibly vast despite how close you stand, “that I mean nothing to you.”

For a moment, he just stares blankly at you in response. Then, without warning, a low, humorless laugh escapes him, dry and sharp, like the crack of a splintering bone. “You think this… whatever this is, means something to me?”

You take a breath, the words that have been stuck inside you for days, weeks, finally crashing to the surface.

“I know it does,” you say, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts, “and I know you feel it too, Sukuna. You’re not as detached as you think you are.”

He whips around at that, his face twisting, a sharp flash of anger breaking through his emotionless exterior. His brows pull together in disbelief, a deep furrow forming between them.

“You don’t know anything about me,” he snaps, his voice sharp. “Let me guess, you think just because we’re stuck in this bond, you can ‘fix’ me, is that it? You think I can feel anything? Love? Don’t be foolish.”

You’re taken aback by his words, his sudden anger. This is not how you wanted this conversation to go at all. But it’s happening now, spiraling out of control right in front of you, and there’s no turning back.

“I’m not trying to fix you. I’m just asking you to let me in.” You step closer, desperate to break through the icy wall he continues to throw up, to finally see the real him that he’s been hiding behind it. You’re tired of him pretending there’s nothing left of the man he once was.

Fuck it. You might as well let it all out.

“I’m not like her, Sukuna.”

His reaction is immediate. Sukuna’s body stiffens, his shoulders locking into place as if he’s just been struck. His eyes widen dangerously as his stare burns straight through you, unsettling you to your core.

“What?” His voice is low, quiet, but full of warning, like a blade pressed to your throat.

Your pulse pounds rapidly in your ears, your instincts screaming at you to stop and retreat, but you can’t stop yourself. The words continue to spill out.

“Look, I know about Uraume. I know what she did to you. I—“

“If I were you, I’d choose my next words very carefully,” he interrupts, his tone razor-sharp and dripping with venom.

You really should stop talking. Any rational person would. But the next words are already on your tongue, your desperation outweighing your better judgment. If you just keep pushing, if you can just make him see—he’ll believe you. He has to.

“I’m not her, Sukuna. You can trust me. I would never do that to you.”

His eyes flash, cold rage igniting in them like a distant storm, dark and inevitable. He takes a slow step toward you, his presence suddenly overwhelming, and you have to lock your legs in place to fight the urge to step back in response.

“Since you think you know so much,” he growls, his voice dripping with contempt, “then surely you know what happened to her, don’t you?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head in response, your voice sounding much smaller and less confident than before. “No, I don’t.”

His expression changes, the sharp edges of his fury settling into something eerily calm. Too calm. His lips curl, not into a smirk, but something that resembles more of a grimace, though his eyes remain wide, uncanny and hollow.

“I killed her.”

He takes another step closer, and a sudden, primal fear rises inside you, sharp and instinctual. Your body tenses as you cower back.

His jaw tightens, and for a brief moment, a shadow of something—pain, maybe rage—contorts his features. But it’s gone in an instant, swallowed expertly by that cold, unrelenting mask.

“She screamed,” he continues, his voice dipping lower, “begged for mercy, for forgiveness.” A slow, humorless chuckle escapes him, causing a chill to run along your flesh. “As if it meant anything. As if I would ever grant her either.”

He takes a final step forward, and you don’t move, don’t breathe.

“I tore her apart, piece by piece for what she did to me. Watched her blood stain the ground like spilled ink. And when she finally stopped screaming, when she gasped that last, pitiful breath—“ he leans in, just slightly, “it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.”

Your stomach plummets, a sickening drop that leaves you dizzy. His words coil around your throat like a noose, tightening, choking. You had considered the possibility—of course you had. Sukuna had killed before. You had seen it yourself in the visions of his past. But those had been in battle, acts of war and conquest.

This… this was something else entirely.

A slow, merciless dismantling. A deliberate, calculated destruction of someone he once loved. Nausea rises in the pit of your stomach, threatening to bubble up into your throat. You stare at him, at the thing standing in front of you, and for the first time, you feel like you’re truly seeing him. The demon. The unrepentant, merciless king who had bathed in the blood of those who wronged him.

The Sukuna you’ve come to know—the one who met your wit with dry amusement, the one whose touch had once felt gentle against your skin, who had almost kissed you just yesterday—is gone.

“I…”

You take another step back, the words struggling to form on your trembling lips.

“You’re nothing like her,” he sneers, his voice laced with disdain, “and you never will be. You think just because you have some sort of odd little obsession with me, that makes you special? That I could ever feel for you what I once felt for her?” His lips curl into something akin to a snarl, “I am a monster. I kill, I destroy, I devour.”

His words strike like a blade, each syllable leaving his lips like tiny knives carving into your heart, stripping it away piece by piece, leaving you hollow. You can do nothing but watch, wide-eyed, empty, nothing left but the overwhelming ache where hope used to be.

“You’re nothing to me,” he continues, cruel and cutting. “Your pathetic little life is a mere speck in the grand scheme of things. I have been here for centuries. And I will continue to be here long after you’ve rotted, buried deep and forgotten underground.”

The room feels like it’s closing in on you, your vision blurring around the edges as your eyes begin to fill with unshed tears. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You have no words. The air is heavy, thick with the weight of his cold dismissal of you.

“I’m not capable of love, girl, and you’d do well to remember that.” He says, his voice quieter now, but no less harsh.

“I’m not some human you can change and mold into a version that you prefer. I’m a demon. That’s all I’ll ever be.” He takes a step back, his face hard and unrelenting. “And if you think for even a second that I could ever care about you, then you’re even more fucking pathetic than I thought.”

The tears come fast, scorching trails down your flushed cheeks as your breath turns ragged. Your vision blurs, the room shrinking in around you, and all you can think is that you need to get away. Away from him, from his words still ringing in your skull, splintering through your chest like jagged glass.

You don’t look at him. You don’t even think. You just run.

You barely make it to your bedroom before the first sob rips free, raw and uncontrollable. The door slams behind you, but it does nothing to stop the pain from clawing its way up your throat, your shoulders heaving with the force of it. You stumble forward, collapsing onto your bed, curling in on yourself like a wounded animal.

Your hands tangle in your hair, gripping tightly, desperately, as if you could anchor yourself, as if you could stop the ache spreading through your chest, sinking deep into your bones. But it’s useless. The sobs wrack through you, shaking you to your very core, your breaths coming sharp and fast, too fast, until you’re gasping, until it feels like you’re drowning in it, in him, in everything you thought you had and everything he just tore apart in an instant.

And still, his voice lingers. Still, it hurts.

How could you be so stupid?

Of course he doesn’t care. Of course he doesn’t feel. He’s a demon—a creature of pure, unrelenting cruelty. You knew that. You’ve always known that. And still, somehow, you let yourself believe. You let yourself hope that there was something more beneath all that rage and ruin, something real. Something for you.

But there isn’t.

There never was.

You’re just a pathetic, lovesick fool, chasing a dream that was never yours to begin with. He’s not a man. He’s not someone to be understood or saved, not someone who could ever love you back. He is darkness, destruction, a force of nature that does not bend, does not break, does not care.

Your stomach twists with the sheer humiliation of it, shame seeping into your skin like poison. How could you let yourself fall? How could you have been so blind?

Your body trembles as you curl in tighter, rocking slightly, trying to push it away, to find some shred of comfort in the wreckage. But the thoughts won’t stop. The hurt won’t stop. It digs into your ribs, carves itself into your heart, reminding you over and over and over—

“You’re nothing to me.”

A strangled sob tears from your throat, raw and broken, as you bury your face into the pillow, desperate to muffle the sound. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. The ache in your chest is too big, too unbearable, clawing at your ribs, crushing the air from your lungs.

For a fleeting moment, you think about leaving. Just getting up and walking out the door, disappearing into the night, never looking back. Maybe if you run fast enough, far enough, you can outrun this pain, escape the weight of what you’ve done, what you let yourself believe.

But where would you go?

There is nowhere he wouldn’t follow. No distance you could put between you that the bond wouldn’t snap back into place, dragging you right back to him. He is inescapable.

And you are trapped.

Your chest tightens violently, a crushing, suffocating weight settling onto it, making it impossible to breathe. The walls feel smaller, the air thinner, the room closing in like a prison. You squeeze your eyes shut, fists clenching in the sheets, trying to steady yourself, to think, to breathe.

Breathe.

Eventually, the sobs fade, not because the pain lessens, but because your body simply can’t keep up with it anymore. You lie still, curled in on yourself, drained beyond measure. The tears don’t stop, though—they slip silently down your face, soaking into the pillow, leaving behind the sticky remnants of grief. The hurt remains, dull now, a hollow, throbbing thing inside your chest, like an open wound that refuses to close.

You take a trembling breath, staring blankly at the wall as the crushing silence of the room presses in around you, thick and suffocating.

“You’re nothing to me.”

The words replay in your head, slow and deliberate, sinking deeper with every repetition. Maybe he’s right. Maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe you were foolish, delusional to think you could ever be anything more than a passing amusement to him. To believe you could reach something inside him that simply doesn’t exist.

And yet.

Even as you think it, even as you try to carve the truth into your own heart, a part of you refuses to believe it. Because you know better.

You’ve seen it. Felt it.

Despite his cruelty, despite the ice in his voice, despite the way he shut you out like you were nothing—you know there’s something beneath it all, something he won’t let himself admit.

But if he refuses to acknowledge it… does it even matter?

The thought lingers, heavy and unresolved, sinking deep into the marrow of your bones.

It shouldn’t matter. It can’t matter.

As you lie there, hollowed out and aching, the weight of his words pressing into your ribs like iron, you know this wound won’t fade so easily. It’s carved too deep, settled too far inside you.

So you let the tears fall, silent and endless, tracing paths down your skin like a grief that refuses to be swallowed. You close your eyes against the darkness, but there is no escape—not from this, not from him.

All you can do now is endure.

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☰ Taglist: @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @after-laughter-come-tears @rizzyjuney609 @prezzleyy

#bearer and the bound #dark romance #enemies to lovers #jjk #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #slow burn #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #sukuna angst #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna

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sangwookisser · 2 days ago

Text

⭒TENSIONS ARE RISING - RAFE CAMERON II⭒

cw. football! rafe, college rafe, enemies to lovers, breakups, female reader in mind, objectification of reader by rafe, no use of y/n, porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, missionary, implications of cucking, choking, french kissing, creampies

synopsis: second and final part of my mini-series. Rafe Cameron gets his hands on the ex-girlfriend of his rival.

part one

You gasp into his mouth as his lips slot over yours, your heart rate spiking to speed so unnatural that you feel like you're going to die. He moves one hand onto your throat to keep you in place and prevent you from running.

"R-Rafe, mmh," You try to protest, but the way you say his name doesn't do anything but make him a lot more eager. He moans into your mouth in response.

You try to push at his arms and chest and scratch at any inch of his bare skin that you can get your hands on, but it seems futile. He smiles against your lips, his hands roaming your body like he can't seem to pick just one spot in favor over all the other plush, soft curves of your body.

Rafe feels like he's dreaming. He's finally got you in his arms, with his body and mouth on you, and he can hardly think straight. His fingers graze up your thigh, his palm smoothing over your hips, your waist, then back down again. Squeezing. Mapping out the curves he’s only ever stared at before.

"Kept telling your stupid little boyfriend that I'd make you mine, princess." He grunts against your mouth, sounding breathless. "Told him I'd get him out of the ngh- fucking way."

Your lips are soft and warm on his, and when you let out tiny, breathless little gasps against his mouth, he grabs you tighter, slotting his thigh between your legs as he holds you against the door, pushing it right against your core.

You want to tell him that you're not his, that you're still wearing the necklace with your boyfriend's initials around your neck, but you can't get a word out.

He groans into the kiss, deep and satisfied, like he’s starving and you’re the only thing that can possibly sate him.

His grip tightens as his hand slides up your neck, his thumb pressing lightly against your pulse, squeezing just enough for your brain to feel foggy. He's too much, and you whimper faintly, the sound leaving you involuntarily.

You can't tell if you want this or not, but your brain isn't functioning rationally right now and your fight or flight instinct is nowhere to be found.

His palm is hot against your skin, his fingers curling just enough to remind you he’s got you, that he’s keeping you here.

The other hand is already moving lower. You feel it glide down your spine, over the plush globes of your ass, slipping into the waistband of your shorts with ease. "This what you wanted? For me to snap and put my hands all over you?"

He squeezes your butt, his tongue moving sloppily over yours. "Mmf... R-rafe, I d-didn't..." He cuts off your babbling by tugging your panties back and snapping them onto your skin to make you jump and squeak, while he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue even deeper in your mouth.

You hate how your knees go weak when he kisses you. His lips are soft and wet and God, he's a good kisser, but you have to remind yourself who he is. How he's treated you, and your ex.

Your stomach tightens, and you snap out of the fuzzy haze clouding your brain and realizing that you're kissing the same guy who's tormented you and your ex-boyfriend so much that he ended things with you.

He’s smirking against your lips, and that just makes you angrier. You bite down on his lower lip, hard enough to make him hiss, to taste a hint of copper, and he finally pulls back, a thin string of saliva connecting your mouths. "Get the hell off me, Cameron," You snap, even though every part of you yearns for more. You're reeling.

"Ah fuck, you're feisty," he murmurs, licking his lips. "Didn’t know you liked it rough," Rafe purrs, fingers tightening around your hips, pulling you closer again, pressing you right up against him. "Knew there was a little freak in you."

He brings a thumb up to his mouth, smearing away the small drop of blood you left behind, and instead of getting mad, he grins. Like he likes it.

Like he wants you to do it again.

"Shut your mouth." You pant out, your lips swollen, your pulse hammering. You throw his hand off your face, clenching your own into fists. "I came here to set boundaries, not have you kiss me."

You need to put distance between you, but his hands keep finding your body, gripping your waist, your ass, still crowding your space like he owns it.

Your nails dig into his arms, but he only chuckles, dragging his mouth down, sloppy and wet against the corner of your lips, down your jaw, teasing your pulse point before sucking lightly—just enough to make your stomach flip.

You try to shut your legs, but he pushes further against your clothed pussy, the thin fabric of your shorts doing little to obscure the feeling of the hard plane of his knee bumping against your pussy. Your head leans back, and you whine breathlessly, angry at how easily he can toy with you like this and you just let him.

Even now, even through the haze of your frustration and anger and hatred, his sharp jaw, the curve of his lips, the way his darkened blue eyes drink you in like he wants to devour you. He’s so pretty.

And he knows you think so.

"That little head of yours is spinning, huh?" he murmurs, tilting his head, watching you. "S’cute how you try to fight it. Try to fight me."

His thumb strokes slow over your butt, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth, his breath hot against your cheek. "Tell me to stop," he whispers, his voice dropping even lower, rougher, something dangerous curling in it now. "Tell me you don’t want me, that you want nothing to do with me, and I’ll back off. Just say the words."

Your lips part, but nothing comes out. Your throat feels tight, like something thick and unbearable is lodged there, suffocating you from the inside out. Your body isn’t listening to you. Every muscle, every nerve feels like it’s wrapped in honey, warm, sticky, trapping you in place.

"No?" He beams, little dimples gracing his cheeks. He grins smugly. "Don't say I didn't warn you, princess."

Is the last thing he says, before he hoists you into his arms and away from the front door.

Your necklace is finally off you.

Thrown into the trashcan beside Rafe's bed, he's got you folded in half with your knees almost completely pushed against your ears, while he holds you open by your plump thighs, his cock splitting you open.

He takes his time, each inch of his thick, veiny cock stretching your gooey walls with deliberate slowness. The wet, obscene squelches of his cock filling you and bottoming out slowly fills the room as he thrusts so deep inside you that your mind is starting to feel foggy.

"Oh, look at you." Rafe grins, his voice smooth and soft like he's speaking to a lover. "Hate me, you said? Could of fooled me, the way your greedy little pussy's sucking me in like she's trying to swallow my dick whole."

You nudge his hands off your face and push your arms are over your face to hide the way that it's contorted in pleasure. Showing him how good you feel won't do anything but prove how he's won against you yet again. He grunts in annoyance when you hide your face, and he draws back.

Withdrawing until just the tip of his cock remains nestled inside you, he slowly, torturously pushes back in until your pussy and guts stretch obscenely around his girth, wet, squelching sounds filling the room.

"You can hide all you want, princess." He murmurs, still thrusting into you slowly. "Your pussy knows the truth. Knows who it belongs to."

"I d-don't belong to you, idiot."

Rafe pauses at your words, almost amused at your backtalk. He likes when you give him attitude. Gives him a reason to be mean to you.

He pushes your legs open impossibly wider, nearly bending you in half with your legs up against your chest.

"You keep saying shit like that like it's going to get me mad." He laughs softly, before groaning with pleasure. "Maybe I get off to brats, princess, ever thought of that?"

You bite your lower lip so hard that it hurts to hide any noise you're making. If you lifted your head, you'd see the faint outline of his cock in your tummy and the way your pussy struggles to accommodate for his size, and the look of rapt fascination on his flushed cheeks.

He pays no mind to your attempts at modesty, too focused on the wet, sloppy sounds of his cock churning up your insides. He sets a slow, punishing rhythm, pulling out until just the tip remained inside you before slamming back in, burying himself to the hilt with a filthy squelch.

"Fuck, your cunt is soaking my dick," Rafe taunts. His cock churns up your soaked, velvety walls with each roll of his hips, your pussy clenching around him like a vice as you desperately attempt to adjust to his size.

You’re shaking, fingers curling into fists in the sheets underneath you. You’re not sure how much more you can take. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks in a low, taunting murmur.

"Bet you're worried about me creaming in this hot little pussy, huh?"

Your head finally leaves the crook of your arms to stare up at him in disbelief. Your whole body locks up, heat flashing through your tummy. "Yo-you wouldn't, I w-wouldn't let you," Rafe uses the opportunity of you moving your arms to grab both your wrists in one hand and pin them over your head, his free hand still holding your thigh.

"Yeah you would." He shoots back, almost aggravated at your tone. "You'd let me. You know why? Because you like me real bad. You're just too pussy to admit it."

He notches the tip at your entrance, slowing his thrusts, before slamming forward and forcing his girthy shaft deep inside you. “God,” He groans. “Pussy’s so fuckin’ good. Squeezing me like you don’t want me to go anywhere.”

You moan out, but this time, he forces you to keep eye contact, and his gaze flicks between the way your small, fluttering hole stretches wide to accommodate his length, and the way your face is scrunched with tears tracking your cheeks and your lips raw from biting as he shoves his cock in you.

The lewd, sloppy sounds of your cunt being split open fill the room as he impales you repeatedly, not stopping his thrust until his swollen, heavy balls rest against your ass.

Rafe continues his relentless, sloppy assault, each thrust accompanied by the most vulgar noises. The obscene slap of skin on skin echoes through the room as he fucks you with deep, purposeful strokes. Your body jolts with every impact, tits bouncing lewdly as you try to stifle your cries.

He changes his angle slightly, and your tummy coils up tight into a knot as you feel your orgasm come crashing down, your back arching sharply off the bed. He knows he found that sweet spot deep inside you as your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

Rafe focuses his thrusts there, grinding against it with every push forward, determined to make you fall apart completely on his cock, and you let out a final strangled cry as you cum around him.

He rocks you through your orgasm, still hitting that gummy spot that makes you sing so pretty that his heart throbs.

"I wish that pathetic ex of yours was here," he muses, voice dripping with cruel amusement. "I wish he could see me ruining his girl, see me taking what's rightfully mine. I bet he'd love a front-row seat to watch me breed his bitch."

Your pussy, now overstimulated and sloppy from your recent orgasm, throbs with sensitivity. “R-rafe, please, please, it’s too much,” You cry out, and he coos at your pretty sounds, ignoring you.

"Too bad for him, ain't it?” He continues. “This cunt belongs to me now. You belong to me. Say it. Say who’s pussy this is.”

Your sloppy cunt swallows his thick cock over and over, your lips, swollen, clinging to his cock tightly. Squelches and sloppy lewdness fill the air as he plows into you, each thrust pushing out a fresh gush of your cum. The creamy ring of your hole stretches and bulges around his girthy shaft, struggling to contain the thick cock splitting you open. “Ah! Yours, Rafe! Y-your pussy, I’m yours!”

He could feel your cervix fluttering against the tip of his cock, the spongy flesh yielding to his pounding. “That’s my girl, baby. All mine,” He grunts one last time as your womb clenches and ripples, ready for the hot cum he was going to pump inside you.

He lets out a strangled moan as he empties inside you, balls twitching as he fills you to the brim with his cum. It’s thick and creamy and never ending, and his head lolls, hips still pumping as he fills you up good.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your ragged breathing, the distant hum of the city beyond the windows. Your body is still trembling, skin fever hot and slick against his, and yet he hasn’t moved an inch. He’s still there, stretched out on top of you, pinning you down.

Rafe exhales, deep and satisfied, before letting out a slow, almost disbelieving chuckle.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, dragging a hand through his damp hair. His voice is rough, like he’s been screaming, like you did that to him. “Knew you’d be good, but damn, baby.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your throat is too tight, your mind too hazy, floating somewhere between reality and whatever that was.

Rafe turns his head, smirking at the dazed, wrecked look on your face. He reaches out, running a slow finger down your jaw, tilting your chin up so you have to meet his gaze. His pupils are still blown, his mouth swollen from you.

“Gonna let me keep you now, princess? Or do you need another round for me to convince you?”

101 notes · View notes

lostbookmark · 3 days ago

Text

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Finding Masterlist here

Summary: After a failed engagement, you move back home and reconnect with your friends. Maybe, just maybe you can find love with someone you never expected.

Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Swearing, Cheating (Not Yoongi), Fighting, Protected/Unprotected Sex, Toxic Past Relationship,

Genre: Enemies(?) to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town romance. Hurt-Comfort, Slight Angst, Romance

SMUT!

The churning water of the large hot tub in your hotel suite felt amazing. You sigh and close your eyes as you take in the music coming from Yoongi's phone, body relaxed, hair piled sloppily on the top of your head. You laugh to yourself when you think back to a couple of weeks ago when you told him where you wanted to go. He was not convinced….

Bursting into Yoongi's office, you throw your bag off to the side. You were aiming for the black leather couch that sat against the wall, but you missed, and it landed with a thud on the ground. However, you were too excited to care at the moment.

“Hi, Y/N,” Tae greets you with a big smile from where he sits in front of Yoongi's large deck.

“Hi, Tae,” you greet happily back, giving him a quick hug around his shoulders.

“Good day?” Yoongi asks, leaning back against his office chair as he twirls a pen around his fingers.

“Very good,” you say, sitting down in an empty chair next to Taehyung. “I used my lunch break to look for places we could go for a weekend. I found it! Cedar Slopes.”

“You want to go where?” Yoongi's voice was full of uncertainty, and his face scrunched in confusion. He drops the pen and leans over his desk, almost as if he didn't hear you right the first time. “Say that again.”

“Cedar Slopes,” you say, showing him a picture of the ski resort on your phone as you lean over his desk in his office. “It's got a bunch of five-star reviews. People say it's super nice, and there were no mentions of bed bugs. It seems perfect.”

“I'll go,” Tae says, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

“Absolutely not,’ Yoongi answers him while looking at you. “You want to go skiing? I didn't take you for the skiing type.”

“No, I don't want to go skiing,” you say, shaking your head. “I've never skied a day in my life.”

“I want to go skiing,” Tae says, speaking up again. “Kook will want to come too. We will pay our own way. It would be so much fun. We could teach you how to do it.”

“Goodbye, Taehyung,” Yoongi says, grabbing your phone from your hand to scroll the website. The door to his office opens and closes as Tae leaves, whining about being left out. “If you don't want to ski, then why go to a ski resort? It's cold and wet, and there will be a bunch of people around. It won't be fun. Can't you find a cabin in the middle of the woods where we will be alone?”

“Because,” you say with a smile, moving around his desk and settling in his lap. “They have hot tubs in their suites with views of the mountains. I want a hot tub with a beautiful view and room service.”

“Hot tub, huh?” He asks, looking a little more intrigued as he rests his head against the back of his chair. “I don't have swimming trunks.”

“Who says you need swimming trunks?” You ask, then laugh at the scandalized look on his face. “You have time to get some. Please? Pretty, please?”

“Cedar Slopes,” he says with a sigh, looking at your phone once more. “When do you want to go?”

“Got your wine, darlin,” Yoongi says, coming back into the room with a large brown paper bag with the resort's logo on it.

“Why such a big bag?” You ask with a light laugh.

Yoongi places the bag down by the hot tub before walking away to grab a couple of wine glasses and setting them down by the bag. He smirks at you as he strips his shirt off and climbs into the tub with you.

“Because,” he says, reaching into the bag, pulling the wine bottle out. “I got you something else, too.”

Yoongi unscrews the wine cap and pours you each a glass. Placing the wine to the side, he reaches inside the bag, producing a large box. You look over his shoulder to get a better look, and what you see makes your eyes light up. Chocolates! A very large box of chocolates.

“Chocolates!” You exclaim excitedly as you tear into the box.

Yoongi settles back, resting his head back over the edge of the bubbling hot tub. He laughs, watching you shove two random chocolates in mouth, making your cheeks bulge out. Grabbing you by the waist, he guides you through the water and between his legs. You lie back against his chest, chewing your sweets and look out at the mountains. The tall peaks were covered in fresh snow, giving you the most gorgeous view.

“Is this everything you hoped it would be?” He asks, bringing his hands up to your shoulders, messaging them with the right amount of pressure.

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly as you close your eyes in pleasure. “Well almost.”

“What do you mean almost?” He asks, making you turn around to look at him. “I got you chocolate and wine. I even used my own money for that and not the pawned ring money.”

“I kind of thought maybe we would be spending more time…in bed,” you explain, turning red from embarrassment.

“Hey, look at me,” Yoongi softly demands, and you turn your eyes up to look at him. “I want us to do it right this time around. I didn't want to jump right back in bed with you. I want you to know that I'm with you because I want to be with YOU. It's not just about sex.”

“I know. I'm sorry,” you whisper.

“You don't have to be sorry. I know I'm irresistible,” he says with a small shrug of his shoulder.

“You wish,” you counter with a roll of your eyes.

Laughing, his hands hold your face to his securely, not letting you pull away from him. Yoongi's tongue sneaks out and licks your bottom lip. Opening your mouth, you give him the entrance that he sought as his tongue rolled against your own. You completely relax against him. His arms sneak their way around your body, holding you flush against his chest.

He hasn't touched you like this since your fight. Of course, he's kissed you since you've made up, but not like this. Hugs, quick pecks on the lips, and a good snuggle were as far as you two have gone. Not that you counted, but it's been two months, and you are starting to go crazy. His talented tongue tasting the inside of your mouth expertly makes you release a needy moan in his mouth and your core clench around nothing. He pulls back, making you chase his lips once more, but his deep chuckle snaps you out of your haze.

“Let's go to the bed,” he suggests as he plays with the string hanging from the top of your bathing suit.

“Why,” you say, bending your head to press your lips to his neck. Firmly you place kisses to his pulse point much like that terrible Halloween night. Honestly, you were not too sure if you could make it to the bed.

“Because, I want you naked and spread out underneath me,” he tells you huskily as his hands squeeze your hips.

You smirk at him as you pull back and toy with the string to your bathing suit. Standing up from the water, you look down at him as you slowly pull the string hanging down your back. Peeling it away from your body, you pull it up and over your head before dropping it onto his shoulder. Turning your back to him, you climb out of the tub, not bothering to even towel off. You leave wet footprints along the floor as you saunter your way to the bed.

“Fuck,” you hear him curse softly to himself.

You want to laugh as you hear him scramble to get out of the hot tub, water splashing about . The churning, bubbling sounds come to a stop as he turns the tub off. You're caught by surprise as he pretty much knocks into you, making the two of you fall rather ungracefully onto the bed. You giggle and race up the bed on your knees, leaving him crawling after you. Yoongi snatches your ankle, yanking you gently, making you fall onto your stomach.

Dragging you back down toward the end of the bed, he turns you on your back before pressing his body completely against you, making you sink into the soft mattress. Taking your lips with his, his hands take turns pulling at the strings hanging off your bottom, unknotting them. Ripping them away from your body, Yoongi presses his confined erection against you, groaning into your mouth as he does so. Your eyes roll in the back of your head at the thought of him finally giving you what you want. What you need.

“I've missed you,” you say softly as you pull away from his sinful mouth.

“I've missed you too,” he says just as softly.

Kissing down your throat, he makes his way to your breast. Taking your nipple in his mouth, Yoongi swirls his tongue around your hardened bud. You arch your back, pressing your breast further into his face as your hands push on shoulders in hopes he will drag his lips down your body.

Yoongi smiles against your skin before nipping your nipple with his teeth. Your hips jolt against his, making his breath hitch. His lips give into your silent demand, and they start their journey down your damp body. Your body burns with anticipation as he takes his time reaching where you need him the most. Fiending for his touch, his mouth, his everything. Two months without his touch was too long.

Settling on the floor, Yoongi pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. Taking turns, he kisses the inner side of your knees as his hands massage the top of your thighs. Spreading your thighs wide, Yoongi licks a broad stripe up your aching center with his flattened tongue. His hot breath fans over your wetness, making you tremble as he finally takes your pulsating bud into his mouth. Moaning out, your hips start rolling into his face, forcing him to grab onto them, keeping you in place. Holding you firmly, Yoongi pulls off you to flick at your clit, as you lay splayed out, completely at the mercy of his wicked tongue.

In a flash, Yoongi suddenly hovers over you, taking your nipple in his mouth once more as his fingers gain entrance to your core. Crooking his fingers, his eyes focus on your face as they dig in a bit deeper. The stuttered moan that escapes your lips makes him smirk. Sitting up onto his knees, his eyes focus on his fingers pumping into you. Watching as your breaths turn to soft pants, making your breasts rise and fall with each inhale and exhale.

“You don't know how much I've thought about this. How many times I've dreamt about this. How disappointed I was when I woke up and you were not next to me,” Yoongi growls at you. That familiar warmth starts creeping over your skin as his fingers pick up their pace. “Look at you, turning all red. Fuck, your going to cum.”

Your hands grab the blanket under you as your body squirms, trying to fight the pleasure that's about to burst through you. Yoongi, expeditiously bends, licking your clit again giving you exactly what you need. A loud sob escapes your throat. Your pussy clenches repeatedly over his fingers as your wetness gushes out of you, and onto the bedding. You grip his wrist, stopping his ministrations so you could catch your breath. Pulling his fingers out, he licks up your mess left over on the skin of your thighs. It was something you've never seen before and it was fucking beautiful.

“Yoongi,” you pant, as your heart rate slows back down. Standing up, Yoongi pulls down his swim trunks and kicks them off to the side. Climbing onto the bed, he pumps himself in his hand as he looks at you still coming down from your high. “The bag on the stand,” you tell him.

You scoot up the bed, resting your head on the fluffy pillows. Yoongi moves up as well, reaching into the white bag you had on the nightstand. Dipping his hand in, he pulls out a square foil packet. Kneeling between your legs, his fingers fiddle with the condom. His eyes dart between you and the contraceptive. You don't understand what the problem is. Why was he hesitating?

“Yoongi?” You say softly.

“I never asked you before if you were on birth control,” he comments, his eyes still looking at the condom in his hand.

“Yea, IUD,” you answer. “I still have three years left on it.”

“It's just you and me, right?” He asks, making you nod your head in agreement. “Do you think maybe…”

“What?” You ask, sitting up.

“Nevermind,” he says quickly, as his face turns a light shade of pink.

“Tell me,” you urge.

“Do you think…maybe….we could go without it? ” He asks.

You hesitate. You have never had sex without a condom before. Even all the years you wasted on Changkyun, he always wore one. Thankfully. You lick your lips and look up at him. You trust him. You trust him in a way that you never trusted your ex. You wanted to feel him….all of him.

“Okay,” you agree, his eyes widened in surprise.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

You don't answer him. Instead, you grab that foil packet and toss it across the room. Laying back down, you spread your knees, letting your hand drift down to touch yourself. Yoongi's breath hitches as he watches you, his own hand goes back to slowly pumping himself. Lifting your free hand, you beckon him over with your finger. Moving closer to you on his knees, you move your hands out of the way, placing them to rest above your head.

Bending down, he gives your pussy a few quick sloppy licks, ensuring that you were still nice, and wet for him. Resting one hand by your head, he guides his cock along your folds. His tip nudges your clit making you moan on contact. Yoongi lines himself up with your opening, and looks at you one final time. The soft smile you give him is enough assurance. Pushing forward, your hot wet walls grip his bare cock. He sucks a breath in between his clenched teeth, as he thrusts all the way in until his pubic bone is flushed against you. You close your eyes, taking in the feeling of him in you. You couldn't believe the difference. The warmth coming from him, the smoothness of his skin. The fucking connection you felt. It felt real. It felt safe. It felt like you belonged right here with him. It was perfect.

You open your eyes and see Yoongi is taking a deep breath with a slight shake of his head. You think he feels it, too. Yoongi pulls back until only his tip is left in your opening before surging forward hard. Your hands shoot up to stop yourself from hitting your head on the headboard as the force of his thrust jolts your body up the mattress. Again, and again, his hips slowly pull back to smack your naked body with repeated hard thrusts, your breasts bouncing as he does so.

“Faster,” you moan.

Yoongi slams his mouth to yours as his hips gain speed, sinking his cock into you over and over again quickly. Sending a million little sparks shooting across your body. Pulling off his mouth with a gasp, you tilt your head back into the pillows. Yoongi lips, find the column of your neck, sucking a bruise onto the tender skin. Marking you. Marking you as his.

“Fuck you feel too good,” he rasps agaist your now marked skin. “I need you to come.”

“Then make me fucking come,” you whine as you body slides against his as he continues hammer into you.

Pulling out, he quickly turns you on your knees. Pressing on your lower back, Yoongi shoves his cock back into you. Your arched back makes your ass pop up perfectly for deep penetration. He adjusts quickly, angling his hips to hit that spine tingling spot. Your toes curl, as a long whine escapes your lips. Your hand slaps the bed, before fisting the blanket tightly.

“Right there?” He huffs out a laugh as you nod your head. “Then fucking take it. Fucking come on me. Come on, darlin. Fucking come on me.”

Your body trembles as your walls tighten around him, trying to suck him in further. Pulsating, waves of pleasure move through you as you cry out his name. His fingers dig into your flesh, holding you in place as he chases his high. Hips hitting you harder than they ever had as your trembling walls threatened to make him come undone.

“Where, where, where?” He asks frantically.

“Inside,” you pant into the bed. “Come inside me.”

That did it for him. With a growl, Yoongi stills as he comes inside you, filling you up with everything he has. You close your eyes, concentrating on the twitching of his cock as he comes, his harsh breaths and the way his hands still have a solid hold of you as he comes down from his europhia. You savor this moment, trying to imprint it to your memory. Much like his chapped lips and that sunset. You want to keep it forever.

“That was amazing,” he says breathlessly as hum in agreement.

Hovering over you, Yoongi maneuvers the both of you onto your sides without him slipping out. He slips his arm under your head as the other holds you close. You love it, you just love the feeling of him. The fullness of him inside of you. The fullness you felt in your heart. It was something you hoped would never go away. You would never want to lose this again.

“You still don't have a proper bed?” Hobi asks, coming into your bedroom and plopping himself down onto your mattress. “How did this weekend go?”

“Good,” you answer simply as you sort out your dirty laundry from your suitcase.

“Good?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. “I think it probably was more than good. You better cover up those hickies on Monday.”

Slapping a hand over your neck, you glare at him. Running over to the bed, you jump on top of him, making him scream. The two of you playfully shove at each other before he pins you down by your arms.

“Are you okay?” You ask him seriously.

“You think you hurt me?” He asks, laughing. “You're not that strong.”

“No, I mean. Are you doing okay? I don't ask you enough. I want to start checking in on everyone more,” you tell him. “You’ve spent so much of our friendship looking out for me. I want to return that energy.”

“I'm okay,” he confirms. “I'm happy. I'm doing what I love. I have a great family and friends. I even, maybe, met someone.”

“How long has that been going on for?” You ask, offended that you didn't know.

“Should I be worried?” Yoongi says from the doorway, staring at the two of you on your bed.

“Did you know he has a girlfriend?” You ask, completely ignoring his question.

“She's not my girlfriend. We just started seeing each other,” Hobi says, defending himself. “Her kid is in one of my classes.”

“Single mom, nice,” Yoongi comments. “Can you get off my girlfriend, please.” You and Hobi look at each other before you fly away from each other, but stay put on your small mattress. Yoongi walks over to the two of you and places himself on the other side of you, squishing you between the two of them. “If I didn't know any better, I swear you two would have dated before.”

“I told you we never dated before,” Hobi says. “But, I mean…”

“Hobi, shut up,” you cut in, making Yoongi sit up on his elbow to look back and forth between the two of you in disbelief. “It was just a kiss. We were like fourteen.”

“Yeah,” Hobi agrees, grimacing. “It was pretty bad.”

“Excuse you!” You exclaim. “I'm a good kisser. Tell him, Yoongi.”

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Yoongi teases.

“I don't hear you complaining when I have your dic…,” you couldn't finish your sentence before Yoongi slaps his hand over your mouth.

“I don't need to hear anymore,” Hobi laughs nervously, rolling off the bed and onto the floor. “I just wanted to check in on you. I'll leave you two nauseating love birds alone.”

“When do I get to meet her?” You ask, sitting up and staring up at him as he stood up. “I need some good female energy in my life. All you men drive me up the wall sometimes.”

“You've had female friends before,” Hobi says.

“Yeah, but my last batch all fucked my ex fiance while we were still together,” you say with a shrug.

“That's sad. If we decide to get serious, I'll introduce her. Until then, stop bugging me,” With that, Hobi leaves, and you settle back down on your bed with Yoongi.

“You need a real bed,” he says, trying to get comfortable. “Also, I would never cheat on you.”

“Well I would hope not,” you laugh and roll on top of him. “I won't cheat on you either.”

“I know,” he says, tucking some hair behind your ear.

You lay your head down onto his chest and close your eyes. His hand runs lazily up and down your back as you take in his heartbeat. It was a calming rhythm that made you feel safe. You think you love him. It scares you, but instead of running away from it. You want to sink into it and drown yourself in the feeling. Moving, you rest your chin on his chest, and you smile. He smiles back. Yeah, you think he feels it, too.

Tagged Readers:

@mar-lo-pap , @bontensbabygirl , @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs , @redragdoll, @svnbangtansworld , @wobblewobble822 , @busanbby-jjk , @pitchblack0309 , @bluesiebirdie , @thelilbutifulthings

#yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi smut #yoongi au #yoongi x reader #bts fic #yoongi fic #bts min yoongi #bts yoongi #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #bts suga #suga #yoongi scenarios #min yoongi

74 notes · View notes

vvifeys · 2 days ago

Note

vi helping the reader learn to fight ! maybe the reader is a little discouraged

eventually.

modern!au vi. no tw, just vi training reader to fight. a/n: i dont know the first thing about fighting, i apologize if this is incorrect or sounds weird in any way.

that was the fourth time you'd fallen on your ass trying to block the same attack vi kept throwing at you, this was hopeless. she had made it her life's mission to teach you how to fight like it was the last thing she'd ever do.

you weren't sure where this sudden obsession had come from, but she kept telling you that she just wanted to make sure you'd be safe if she wasn't around. trying to convince vi otherwise was like trying to convince a brick wall to move out of your way. you decided to just let her try and teach you, despite your assurances you'd never manage to learn anything.

"you need to keep your feet further apart. they're too close together, that's why you keep falling." vi repeated for the fifth time. she didn't sound frustrated yet, but you could see the slight furrow in her brow.

"i'm telling you, it feels weird to stand like that. i can't stay in that position." you insisted, standing back up with the help of your girlfriend.

"okay... lets try something else. you attack me, alright? i want you to grab my hand when i punch, pull me forward, and push me to the ground. do that fast enough and your enemy wont have time to realize what you're doing." vi explained, setting her feet apart. she gestured for you to get in position.

you shook your head, sighing as you mimicked her stance. you hand your hands up, a determined look on your face. you could do this, all you had to do was grab her hand and drag her to the floor. couldn't be that hard, right?

vi threw her punch. it was quicker than you expected, you flinched back. your hands flew to cover your face, eyes squeezing shut, waiting for a blow that never came. whenever you opened your eyes and moved your hands, you were faced with vi's fist just sitting there. you looked past her arm, down at her face that had a mild look of disappointment.

"babe, this is useless. i told you, im not a fighter. we've been doing this for how long? and i still can barely throw a punch and land it, much less with enough force to actually do anything. why are you so determined?" you say, feeling frustrated tears well up in your eyes. vi noticed this too, of course she did- she was always attentive, her hands coming up to cup your cheeks.

"look, i just want you to be safe. im not always gonna be here if something happens, and i worry about you. especially whenever you go out. im not doing this to make you upset or frustrate you or whatever-" vi's thumbs brushed over your cheeks, wiping a few stray tears. "i just wanna help. you got this, you just gotta be patient. do you wanna keep going?"

you hesitated a little. you kept your head in her hands as you took a second to think, your eyes tracing all over her face. after getting lost thinking about how much you adored your lover, you'd nodded. "i'll get it eventually."

this was way way shorter than i expected it to be, but as i said... i know nothing about fighting so i didn't wanna prolong this 😭 thank you for the request, i hope i did you justice!!

#apollo's scribbles ✍️#apollo answers anons ✔️#vi arcane #vi headcanons #vi x reader #vi x you #arcane headcanons #arcane x reader #lesbian #wlw

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bvidzsoo · 24 hours ago

Text

Chasing your shadows

𓍼 Cherry Blossom, March Event 𓍼

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Outlaw!Kim Hongjoong x Bounty hunter!reader

𓍼 Warning: cursing, violence, guns, mentions of past abuse, slight sexism and misogyny 𓍼 Word count: 11k 𓍼 Rating: nc-17 𓍼 Genre: fluff, soulmates: each day on your arm is a particular event your soulmate will face today (ex. promotion, family death, new pet etc.), outlaw x bounty hunter, Wild West AU, enemies to lovers 𓍼 Summary: What was supposed to be a wild chase after a bounty you had your eyes set on for years now, turns into a life changing event. You had always known your soulmate was never up to any good thanks to the words inked on your inner forearm ever since you were five years old, but you hadn't expected him to be the biggest menace known to the state...or the man you had been relentlessly chasing, trying to catch for the hefty reward promised.

A/N: Hello, my lovelies!! The first drabble of the series is here, ack, I'm so excited to hear your thoughts about all of the drabbles. I'd like to think we had pretty original ideas and tried to write as fluffy stories as possible lol. I don't think I have much to yap about right now, but I'll let you know that I'm obsessed with cowboy/wild west AUs (especially Bouncy era, how can one be over that?? I even went to the concert as a Sheriff(-ish) lol). I hope you enjoy the story and let me know what you thought of it, feedback always feels really nice! Enjoy! ^^ (as a second thought, based on the characters in this story...should I write a Yungi spin-off?? lol, I cannot be helped at this point...) divider @cromernet

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The earth was still scorching hot even with the merciless sun finally taking its departure for the day, soon to be replaced by the moon, which had more mercy for us mere humans. The nights weren’t cool, but at least the breeze managed to move the otherwise choking hot air that persisted during the day, forcing everyone to sweat immensely. Your thighs were burning, and your hands were sweaty despite you rubbing them off on your pants every now and then, and your stomach growled at the first sight of buildings. You had finally reached the next bigger town. You knew you could do it, but Sheriff Jeong had tried talking you out of it earlier this morning. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in your skills; it’s that he saw you as his little sister and was worried about you. You’ve known each other for many years now, and if it weren’t for his trust and respect for you, you most probably wouldn’t be here now.

Your horse slowed to a strut, no doubt just as thirsty and hungry as you were. You had given him your last three apples hours ago when you had stopped for a little breather under the shade of a lonely tree, not a soul in sight. That’s how most of your adventures went like, it was you and Carlos, your most trusted ally. He was a gorgeous horse, standing taller than any other horse you had known, its ears long and sharp, eyes round and observant, and its feet strong and quick. He was still young, so he was in good shape, and while you could say that about Carlos, your own bones couldn’t relate to that statement. You’d soon be hitting thirty, a prime age for people in these times, and if it wasn’t your body asking you to be kinder to it, then it was Sheriff Jeong reminding you of it continuously. He had it easy, though; he had a loving woman waiting for him at home at the end of each day, cooking him his favourite dishes and running a bath for him. You…you had no one waiting for you in the small cabin you had claimed as yours years ago once you’ve had enough of your father’s abuse. He didn’t let you have anything, not even the little money you saved up by working ungodly hours at the Inn, cleaning up piss and vomit, smiling to sleazy men while delivering their beers to their dirty tables. And then your mother got sick, and you realised she wouldn’t make it if you didn’t make enough money.

In the end, it didn’t matter how much money you had earned for her to get the best treatment, she was gone in under three months. It was then that you decided you didn’t want to live in a house where your father didn’t bother to do anything for himself, taking whatever he could that you had claimed as yours. He was a homeless man now; you’ve seen him around the Townsquare at times, begging for change or a loaf of bread. You didn’t pity him, you just hoped your mother wasn’t disappointed that you had left him behind with nothing but the disgrace that he was. Your eyes surveyed the quiet town as Carlos took the two of you further inside. Older men stood on their porches smoking tobacco they could barely afford. You’ve always found it pathetic when the poor flaunted the wealth they never had, hence why there was nothing to you that you could brag about. Carlos neighed loudly and abruptly stopped, yanking its head low and making you lean over since your fingers were tightly twisted into the reign.

“What is it, handsome?” You whispered as you leaned towards your horse's ear, smiling fondly as you patted its cheek, “Tired? Come on, just a bit more.”

But Carlos just neighed loudly again, turning the heads of those walking past you. The lady had a basket filled with goods, a young boy latched onto her ragged skirt, curious round eyes looking up at you. You paid them no mind as you tried to get Carlos moving again, but your horse was even more stubborn than you and wouldn’t budge. You groaned and threw a leg over the saddle, jumping down with practised ease. The young boy was still looking at you as you patted your horse's rear, tutting your tongue as you tried to get Carlos moving again. Maybe if he saw you walking, he’d get to it too.

“Missy!” A high-pitched voice called out, making your head turn, “Are you new in town?”

“Indeed, I am.” You answered the boy as he and the lady had stopped walking now, both of their eyes filled with curiosity, “Tell me, boy, is any Inn close by?”

It was the lady speaking up, her eyes looking past you, her free hand pointing forward, “See that grand building? Go past it, and you’ll find one half its size; they might have a few free rooms.”

“Many newcomers?” You quirked an eyebrow, prodding without being too obvious. You were here with a purpose, after all, but you couldn’t let anyone know your true intentions just yet.

“Heard some men galloping in last night.” The lady shrugged, grabbing the boy’s hand into hers, “Didn’t look too nice or kind, keep safe, Missy.”

“You too.” You grabbed the front of your cowboy hat and gently lowered it in a respectful greeting. The boy grinned and waved before he was ushered forward, the lady tugging him after herself since he was still gazing at your gorgeous horse. You smiled and walked in front of Carlos, throwing him an amused look, “You heard that, princess? Think you can walk for another five minutes?”

As if you were understood by the horse, it neighed and surged forward, walking ahead of you as you chuckled and shook your head, playfully slapping its rear and making it huff as you decided to follow your horse on feet; you needed the movement. Your lower back and thighs were stiff, neck aching from the rigid position you’ve had to keep while riding all day long. Your throat was parched, and you couldn’t wait to wolf down a jug of water—or beer—but what you wanted the most was to throw yourself in a bathtub filled with lukewarm water and let your muscles melt into it.

As the lady had said, the Inn was half the size of the grand house—a mansion, you came to realise, looking unoccupied at the moment—and it was just like any other Inn you’ve had the pleasure of staying in. The structure looked old and was not in the best condition as you walked around it, trying to find a stable. A boy, around fifteen, seemed to be dozed off as he sat on a hay, a long string of grass falling out of his mouth as he was leaning against the stable door. You chuckled and then cleared your throat, making the boy jump up with heavy eyes.

“Yes?! I am on it!” You raised an eyebrow as you watched the boy fumble around himself without doing anything, and then he froze, slowly looking up at you, “Oh, I didn’t—that’s a gorgeous horse!”

“Think you can keep him safe for me?” You quirked an eyebrow with a grin on your lips, patting Carlos’ cheek. The boy’s eyes went wide as he nodded eagerly, righting his posture and tapping his dirty clothes down.

“Yes, ma’am!” He called loudly, holding his chin high. You smirked, holding the reins out to him.

“Is the Inn full? Got many people in town?” Perhaps the stable boy knew more than the previous lady and child.

“Seven men came in hours ago, ma’am, but the Inn still has some rooms available.” Seven men, he’d said, perhaps you really were in the right place. You smirked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Perfect, I’ll pay you tomorrow, sound good?” You untied your bag from the backside of the saddle, throwing it around your shoulder, “And not a word to anyone that I’m here, am I clear?”

“Can I ride him?” The stable boy asked as he opened the door, staring with yearning eyes at Carlos.

“Keep my secret, and we’ll see.” You winked, grabbing a slightly melted lollipop from your pocket to toss it at the boy. His eyes glinted as he caught it, veering Carlos inside the stable after him, “Feed him well, my boy is famished and thirsty!”

“Yes, ma’am!” And then you were off to the Inn, smirking to yourself at the presence of six horses inside the stable. So, the gang was here…all you had to do was find them. The town wasn’t as big as the last one you had trailed the outlaws in, you had a feeling you’d finally find him here. It was a feeling you couldn’t explain, but you felt it deep in your stomach like when you were famished.

The Inn had yet to be filled with patrons, but the early birds were already here, downing their beer like it was water, talking loudly for no reason. The woman behind the counter looked sickly and tired, but she still smiled at you when she saw you. You sauntered over, tipping your cowboy hat in a greeting before you took it off, the air feeling cool against your heated hair, “Got a room for me, pretty?”

The girl’s smile widened as she turned, grabbed a key off the wall, and then faced you again, “Ten pennies.”

You laughed, but you were already undoing your satchel tied to your waist, “Isn’t that too much, sweetheart?”

“Aren’t you staying for three days?” She quirked an eyebrow, leaning against the counter and exposing her already visible cleavage. You huffed down another laugh, enjoying the banter as you leaned in just for the fun of it.

“You know where to find me if you need me.” The woman giggled then, letting you take the keys as ten pennies landed on the counter. You wouldn’t try and bargain your way for a lower price since Sheriff Jeong was gracious with the payment before you left on your little hunt. Your satchel was filled with pennies, and you’d have even more by the time you reached your good old town again, “Get me a drink too, I’m thirsty. On the house?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed at your playfulness as you took a seat on a stool, feeling eyes on your back. It wasn’t often that people encountered a woman dressed as a cowboy, the silver pistol with black engravings strapped to your outer thigh rather visible to anyone. What was also rare was a female bounty hunter. Sheriff Jeong took plenty of convincing to finally accept your pleas to send you out on a wild chase, then shocked, but pleased, at your return with the criminal in your hands. The officers had been trying to catch the man for years, and you managed to do it in merely two days. You were a prideful woman, proud of your accomplishments and unafraid to boast about them to men who look at you with little regard and respect. You’d spit in their face and then take them in a gunfight anytime, you knew who’d come out as the winner. There is a reason why Sheriff Jeong places so much trust in you. You’ve never failed him before, and you wouldn’t start now. You smiled as the woman pushed a pint of cold beer towards you, winking as she said, ‘on the house’. With a chuckle, you grabbed the handle of the pint and raised the heavy glass to your lips to finally quench your thirst. You didn’t stop until you had drunk half of it, your throat burning in a good way, the cold extinguishing the fire you felt inside your body. A shiver ran down your back as you slammed the pint back onto the wooden counter, letting out a satisfied sound as you nodded in appreciation. The beer was delicious, or maybe you were just too thirsty.

You hadn’t noticed the man who had taken the stool to your right, leaving one empty between the two of you, but you now felt his sharp gaze on the side of your face, “I’ve never seen a woman wolf down beer that fast.”

You huffed, turning your head to give the man a look. You hadn’t expected him to be so tall with short dark hair and sharp features, his heavily lidded eyes dark and staring sharply at you. His nose was long and his lips were plump, his skin tan, and his face covered by little blemishes and scars. His dark brown leather vest clung to his toned torso like a second skin, showing off his bare arms, his biceps bulging, his shoulders wide and menacing. Much like you, he had a pistol sheathed at the waist, which was small with his leather pants clinging to it tightly, his thighs thick. You wondered how he survived the heat in a full leather-clad outfit, but you weren’t here to find out.

“Intimidated?” You smirked, throwing back the rest of the beer and barely suppressing a loud burp. It was good, you deserved it after the long day you’d had under the hot sun burning your skin, the dust making your lungs ache since you hadn’t worn your scarf for protection. The man laughed, its sound rich and amused, deep like his voice.

“Maybe if you down two more of those, yeah.” His cowboy hat was placed on the dirty counter much like yours, and you hummed, standing up.

“Gotta pass on this one, cowboy. I’ve had a long day.” You winked at him as you grabbed your hat, setting it back on your head with ease. It had been worn for way too long, and it was visible, but you didn’t want to part with it until it hadn’t disintegrated into nothing.

“You a newcomer?” He questioned as he nursed his drink, something darker than your beer, most probably Whiskey. He didn’t look rich, but if his leather gear didn’t scream money, then the expensive drink did.

“And you?” Answering a question with a question was always the way to go when you hoped to pry out information from others. If this pretty man was just a dumb boy, he’d fall for it easily. But maybe you had underestimated him as he smirked, chuckling behind his glass of alcohol.

“Had a long day, too.” Then he tipped his drink back, rasping his knuckles against the counter to ask for a refill, “Rest easy tonight.”

“You too, cowboy.” The man seemed to like being called that as he bit his bottom lip, his eyes taking your form in. You weren’t here for him or to have fun that could potentially distract you, so you took your leave before he could try and hold you back with more useless chit-chat. But your eyes strayed towards his inner forearm as he raised his hand to wave you away jokingly, the bold letters exposed and looking like he had tried tempering with them. He wouldn’t be the first person to do that. Sheriff Jeong’s supposed soulmate refused to look at the words on her inner forearm after finding him, cutting into her skin, and refusing to admit that perhaps something was amiss. But who were you to judge since you knew your soulmate was far from being a good man? You’ve been reading the events inked under your skin that would occur to him ever since you could read, and he’s never once been up to anything good. You found it peculiar what the words on the cowboy’s forearm said, seeing the bounty hunter off on a day like today. You didn’t mean to think of Sheriff Jeong, but that’s exactly what he had done earlier this morning…seeing you off and wishing you luck for your long and dangerous journey.

The stairs felt a bit uneasy underneath your boots as you made your way upstairs, the Inn filling out with more patrons now that the sky had significantly darkened outside. Your room was towards the end of the hallway, and as you pushed the door open to step inside, the one across from yours opened. The man stepping outside wasn’t too tall, his hat tipped so low you could only see his red lips. You paid him no mind as you slammed your door shut and locked it, making sure to keep out any unwanted guests. It wouldn’t be the first time a man felt entitled enough to try and let himself into your room without your permission, promising you foolishly sweet nothings that ended in a beating he’d never forget.

The room was dingy and small, just like any other room at any Inn, and you let your things fall to the wooden floor as you walked towards the windows to push them open, closing your eyes as you were met with the cooling temperature of the evening. You leaned over the windowsill and inhaled deeply, relishing in the moment of quietness and allowing your muscles to ease up, your mind silent for the first time today. Then, you slowly stepped out of your boots and walked towards your bed, peeling off your clothing one by one until you stood naked, groaning at the feeling of nothingness on your skin. It felt like heaven peeling off the sweat-clad clothes, untying your long hair and massaging your scalp as you walked towards the bathroom attached to the room. You were lucky you didn’t have to share it with the others staying at the Inn. You let the water run as you sat on the edge of the bathtub, staring down at your inner forearm. The ink was black and thick, bold letters not too large, staring back up at you. Bar fight was carved under your skin, and you couldn’t help but feel unimpressed. Your soulmate could do something more impressive. Not even three months ago, he hijacked a train and robbed the rich. Coincidentally, days later, it was discovered that it was the outlaw gang you’ve been following for years now, the seven men who had been terrorising the Southern parts of your state.

Knowing you could run out of water anytime now, you quickly got into the bathtub and stood under the spray of lukewarm water, sighing in relief as all the grime was finally washed off your body. The first loud noise got your eyebrows furrowing, but then shouts followed until you could hear glass breaking and manly voices shouting intangible things. You chuckled as you washed your hair out, feeling the need to refresh it. Drunk men were so simple, one wrong look would result in a stand-off, and you could only hope the pretty woman behind the counter wouldn’t get injured in the bar fight downstairs.

There was nothing better than waking up to complete silence, with the occasional rooster crowing and horses neighing in the distance. But that was back in your town, where you could sleep in unless Sheriff Jeong needed you. The wicked didn’t rest, therefore, you were up before the sun could even rise, sauntering down to the bar. The pretty lady was gone from behind the counter, now replaced by a tall and muscular man, his eyes sharp like knives and rather judgemental. He had given you a one-over before rolling his eyes and knocking on the small window you’d failed to notice last night. Ten minutes later, a sloppy breakfast was pushed in front of you. Some sunny side-ups paired with a rather sad-looking salad—which you were sure was slowly starting to rot away—but food was food. If they didn’t charge you extra, you’d try your luck and ask for a cup of coffee too…if they served fancy stuff like that here. As you ate your breakfast, you subtly surveyed the place, looking for the handsome man from last night. He wasn’t here, not that you had expected him to be, and the bar looked like it went through a rough night. But given the fact that there was a bar fight just a few hours ago, you figured nobody bothered to clean it up since it would end up looking like that again soon.

Having finished your breakfast, you were ready to scoop out the town to get to know the way things worked here and get some intel on the residents and newcomers. Getting information like that was always easy if you played the confused and lost little damsel in distress; men were pathetically desperate to help out any woman who looked at them for long enough. It was hilarious, you tried to keep your grin off your face as the man leaning against the Bank’s wall spoke slowly on purpose, his expression feigning fake worry for your safety.

“Missy, excuse my prodding, you’ve been saying you’re here alone?” An eyebrow arched in your direction, and you smirked, tilting your head.

“Why, sir? Would you like to accompany me?” A trick question, but it always worked getting them off your back.

“Well, since missy seems so lonely and scared—”

You didn’t care for what he had to say, so you didn’t let him finish, “I’m afraid the handsome fella who travels with me wouldn’t be too keen on me bringing a stranger inside our shared room…”

The man paused, his eyebrows furrowing deeply as he looked at you with a new glint in his eyes. Anger. Your smirk grew as you pulled your shoulders back, slapping your cowboy hat back on. Your job here was done with this man.

“Have a lovely day, sir, may we never meet again.” You chuckled under your breath as you tipped your hat in his direction, then quickly left the narrow alleyway before he got any idea on how to make you stay there with him for longer. He wouldn’t be the last nor the first one; men around these towns were desperate for something ‘fresh’. They couldn’t wait to cheat on their wives with whoever rolled into town, even if for a remotely short period. You found your feet taking you further inside the city. Carlos would rest today and hopefully tomorrow, too, if you deemed this town useful of any sort.

You couldn’t tell whether you were in the right place just yet…but there it was that gut feeling again, still persistent to the point there was a buzzing too in your ears. It felt like your inner forearm was suddenly on fire; the words were hidden underneath a scarf you had purposefully wrapped around your naked skin to hide the words petty theft. It was unsurprising that your soulmate was trying his luck yet another time at something that could land him behind bars. The words thrown in prison were yet to be marked underneath your skin, so whoever this criminal was, he was good at whatever he did. You wondered if he’d soon run out of luck, your mind taking you places. How amusing it would be if you were the one to catch him, the thought that he was on the wanted list you were hunting through has crossed your mind more than once before. You couldn’t help but laugh it off every time, especially if Sheriff Jeong was entertaining that thought. Not that he was so much better off…the sole reason why you knew his pretty partner was not his soulmate was because whatever the ink on Jeong Yunho’s forearm said had never been the one his girl was up to that day. Sheriff Jeong and you were in a rather similar position, but he wasn’t ready to admit that just yet.

The marketplace was loud as you walked through the open wooden gates; the place was filled with people despite it being the early morning. In small towns, everyone rose with the sun and went to bed at the first sighting of the moon, living a healthier and perhaps even longer life than those in the bustling towns, greedy for more than they could ever handle. You surveyed the place, your eyes taking in all the people, the eager vendors standing behind their stands, shouting to gather more attention and more buyers. You recognised a few faces already, people who were kind enough to open their doors for you this morning and have a chit-chat. The lady from yesterday with the little boy stood behind a stall filled with freshly baked goods, and you made a mental note to buy a loaf of bread from her on your way home. Maybe you could take her son to ride Carlos later in the day, it was rather obvious that the little boy badly wished to at least touch your gorgeous companion.

Asking around was never the hardest part of your mission, yet there was one downside to it. People would grow suspicious of you if you didn’t do it smartly, so you decided to ask around the elderly instead of the youth, who could easily accuse you of planning a heist or perhaps even an attack on their otherwise serene town. The old lady you had set your eyes on had a wrinkly face and trembling hands as she sat on a small chair, knitting quietly as she hummed a melody. There weren’t many products on display, but the clothing items she handmade looked rather useful for the hot days these regions faced daily. If the price was good, you’d be walking away with a hand-knitted flowy vest and perhaps even more information that would be highly useful right now. You smiled as you approached the stall, letting your fingers run over the soft fabric of the vest you had set your eyes on.

“Mornin’!” You called cheerily, smiling widely at the old lady as she jumped at your sudden arrival.

“Oh, Saints, that scared me.” She chuckled, letting her handiwork rest in her lap as she returned your wide smile, “Mornin’, dear, you’re new in town. Welcome, what brings you around here?”

Leaning your hip against the wooden table, you decided to slip in a bit of truth, “I’m chasing after someone. I have a hunch they might be right here, but other than that, it’s nice to travel to new parts of the state from time to time.”

The woman hummed, a faraway look crossing her features, “I once had the chance to travel the whole world…but then I fell in love.”

You watched the lady rub her covered forearm, turning her head to look at you with sadness in her eyes, “Did you settle down here?”

The old lady hummed, picking up her handiwork to continue it, “Love can be a beautiful but painful feeling. Are you here on your own? Perhaps you’re chasing your soulmate?”

You scoffed but suddenly felt a weird pang in your gut. Could you be chasing your soulmate? It was possible, but what were the chances…here you were again, entertaining that thought. You shook your head and shrugged, keen on changing the topic of the conversation, “I’m just looking for someone. I doubt they are my soulmate. He’s out there somewhere, wreaking havoc in his wake.”

“Those damn outlaws…” The old lady muttered, and your eyes widened slightly, making you chuckle under your breath. There was something about her demeanour that screamed calmness, her hands looked like they’d been through a lot as they were decorated with scars. You were here to find out more about any suspicious movement, though, so you couldn’t focus on small insignificant details about the people living in this town. It’s not like you’d see them ever again, so what was the point of forming bonds that would dwindle out once you left?

“You know anything about them?” You tried to make your voice sound casual, your bottom lip between your teeth as you averted your eyes when the old lady snorted under her breath.

“Who doesn’t, dear?” The old lady huffed, the look in her eyes fiery as she looked up at you, “They always ruin everything, cause carnage and leave suffering behind. If I could, I would still be catching them, but my old joints barely let me walk, let alone run.”

You couldn’t mask your surprise as your eyes widened a little bit, “Were you a bounty hunter?”

“Not quite,” The lady grinned, averting her eyes as her hands worked diligently on the sleeves of the blouse in her lap, “I helped the Sheriff catch felons a few times, but I was never brave enough to become a bounty hunter. It seemed like too much effort and danger, plus I couldn’t deal with all the mocking that already came due to me working with the Sheriff…”

“Right,” You hissed, venom slipping into your tone, “People are like that, stupid cunts.”

The old lady started laughing loudly, her lips pulled into an amused grin as she looked up at you, shaking her head, “You must hate a lot of people, then.”

You huffed with a nod, not bothering to confirm what she already knew, “Did you notice anyone suspicious coming into town these past days?”

“So, you’re a bounty hunter, then.” The old lady hummed to herself, resting her handiwork in her lap once again, her eyebrows furrowed as she looked off into the distance, “I can’t say, I don’t walk around much, but my nephew told me he’d seen men riding around just by the border as if they were scooping out the place, or something of the likes. There’s nothing much by the borders, so I wouldn’t know why they were there specifically.”

“To check the exits and set up any traps for those who would try and follow.” You smirked, mentally jotting down this new piece of information. This old lady had been more useful in just a few minutes than all the cocky men you had to listen to this morning, trying to woo their way into your pants instead of sharing valuable information.

“Brilliant,” The lady huffed, shaking her head in disdain, “Tell you what, dear…but you didn’t hear it from me, alrigh’?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and then you moved closer as the woman beckoned you to her height with a wave of her hand. Your toes curled, and your heart raced in excitement at the prospect of finding out even more about the possible outlaws residing in the town, and you couldn’t help but quickly crouch down and stare at the lady with sparkling eyes full of curiosity. The old lady chuckled at your behaviour, and you almost flinched when she patted your cheek, her grey eyes running over your features.

“You’re a gorgeous one, dear, take care of yourself,” She hummed, then looked around before she leaned in too, her voice low, “Two days ago, around midnight, I couldn’t sleep, so I went to smoke on the veranda. I live close to the border, and there are few houses around, yet I heard voices coming from the abandoned stable on my property. It wasn’t anyone I knew and not someone from the town. I swear on what I have most precious! There were two men, based on the different tones in voice, and they were talking about a hit—more like arguing—I couldn’t tell what the fight was about, they heavily disagreed if staying in this town was smart or not. The one with a sharper tone kept denying that they were being chased, and the other one kept pressing they’d get caught if they didn’t lay low for a bit…do what you will with this, darlin’, I don’t know more.”

The lady could only stare at your wide smirk, your body almost vibrating as your suspicions were now one hundred percent confirmed. The outlaws were in this town, you’d finally catch Kim Hongjoong, and he had no idea you were so close to putting him behind bars, taking the hefty payment you deserved after all these years of chasing after him and his band of baboons. You grabbed the lady’s hand and pressed an appreciative kiss against her knuckles before standing, grabbing the vest you had set your eyes on, “Could you hold on to this for me for a bit longer? I’ll come back for it in a few hours.”

“I leave before noon, darlin’; you better return before that!” You chuckled and tipped your cowboy hat in her direction before turning around and walking off, trying to remember where you had seen the store that looked like they had supplies you could use rather soon. You were passing just by the stall where the lady from yesterday was, and you stopped to buy some fresh bread, but your eyes caught something peculiar. There were more people around her stall, amongst them the tall and handsome man from the Inn, so she couldn’t pay attention to everyone at once. That wasn’t the issue, however; it was the shorter man sneaking pastries into his satchel bag, moving slowly yet somehow lithe at the same time. You chuckled to yourself and found yourself walking towards him, stopping right behind him, your hand shooting out to wrap around his warm wrist. The man froze, his whole body tensing up as he whipped his head around, but you couldn’t see his face well due to the cowboy hat he was also wearing. He didn’t seem much taller than you, though. You wondered for a second if you had seen him somewhere before.

“Did you think no one would notice?” You wouldn’t have meddled, but you figured the young lady needed to fend for herself and her son somehow. And if some petty thief stole some precious buns, she wouldn’t make as much as on a regular day. You couldn’t let that happen.

“Not many cares around here.” The man hissed back, his tone on the shrill side, but it was raspy as he tried to yank his wrist free. Your fingers only tightened around his skin, making you smirk when the man couldn’t exactly break free.

“Well, I do. If you don’t cause a scene, I’ll be more lenient with you.” The man scoffed, his voice filled with amusement as you saw him glancing to the side, making you look too, only to find the handsome man turning away. Your eyes narrowed as you wondered whether the two knew each other, but before you could dwell more on it, your foot was being stomped on, and you jumped back with a shout of pain. People looked your way, startled, and as if to mock you, the thief grabbed another hot bun before booking it, his laughter loud and amused as your teeth gritted, taking off after him before anyone could react. The lady’s calls sounded confused, and those who realised it was a thief you were chasing tried to help by jumping in front of the criminal, but he was fast. He was way too fast and way too light on his feet as he twisted his body almost in an enchanting way whenever someone went to grab him from the side. He was cackling still; you could hear it louder now that you were gaining on him, and he jumped over the wooden fence and turned sharply to the left, scurrying down an empty, muddy street.

You hissed under your breath and jumped the fence too, your feet almost tangling when you landed again, your pace thrown off. You weren’t too athletic despite chasing criminals for a living, and you cursed the petty thief as he pushed barrels over to make it harder for you to chase after him. But you weren’t giving up; your quick thinking got you jumping on crates and over the rolling barrels, and your eyes locked in on the chain hanging from a building. You didn’t even consider whether it could hold your weight as you lunged for it, your hands tangling into the hot chains, your body swinging in the air as you kicked your legs back and sent yourself forward. The man had glanced back while you were in the air, completely missing that you were mostly above his head now, and slowed his run into more of a strut. You grinned in triumph as you timed your jump smartly, the chains rattling loudly as you released them and kicked forward, making the criminal raise his head jerkily. You had just a few seconds to take in his features, at least what was visible since the lower half of his face was covered by a bandana, his cowboy hat disguising the upper half of his head. His eyes, however, somehow managed to burn into the back of your mind despite the brief glance into them.

They were sharp, small, attentive, and so much cat-like that it made you wonder whether the man had grown up with cats and bizarrely started taking after them. They were pretty eyes, a dark brown that felt like it burned your own ones before the man twisted around and tried to make a run for it again, but your feet were already colliding with his back, sending him harshly to the ground as you tumbled just a little to the side of him, your groan matching his. Your right elbow throbbed as you landed on it funny, but when the man tried to get up, you kicked into action again and got onto his back, straddling him and pinning him to the dirty ground by the hips. He hissed and tried to throw you off, but you knew how to distribute your weight, so he was rendered motionless. It was hilarious to watch him try to fight you off until, suddenly, he went stiff.

“What? Is that it all?” You mocked, your tone laced with amusement, “You looked like you had more fight in you.”

The man didn’t answer much to your dismay, it wasn’t fun if your hostage wasn’t a bit sassy. You noticed the man didn’t have a weapon on him, at least not visible, and his dark blue shirt’s sleeves were rolled up to expose his forearms due to the heat. His vest was old, much like yours, and it hugged around his pretty waist, his trousers a dark brown and soft under your fingertips as you found yourself lightly grazing the fabric. You stopped when you realised you were being a creep, but there was a sudden pull to the man that made you want to touch him. It was peculiar…you mostly liked staying away from male specimens, unless it was Sheriff Jeong, but this one got your interest piqued for an unexplainable reason. You gulped and grabbed the strap of his satchel bag, yanking it a bit and making the man groan. His hands were pressed to the ground, and he was motionless still, his head turned to the side, but you couldn’t see his profile due to his cowboy hat.

“You’ve got something here that you’ll be returning.” You said as you yanked on the strap again, making the man gruff out something under his breath. Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes narrowed, and you leaned just a bit closer, “What was that?”

The man said something lowly again, and you were getting irritated by his lack of answer…at least one that you could hear, “Speak up, cowboy, or did you bite your tongue during your fall?”

“I said, I’d like to see you try, skivvy.” Your eyebrows furrowed at the blatant insult, your anger exploding inside you out of nowhere. You were good at controlling yourself, but this just felt absolutely uncalled for and way too derogatory, coming from a criminal. You huffed, loudly and clearly offended, clenching and unclenching the fingers of your right hand, debating whether you should punch the man to teach him a lesson. But he spoke up before you could make a choice, “What? No more mocking?”

And as you sucked in air through your teeth, deciding to punch the man, indeed, his head suddenly flew backwards while his hips kicked up strongly, and you were thrown off balance as the back of his head collided with your forehead. It didn’t hurt since he was wearing the hat, and you weren’t too close to his head, but it was enough to jostle you off the man. Suddenly, your whole world was spinning as your back hit the ground hard, weight settling over your hips as the sharp eyes were now staring down at you, obscuring the blistering sun. You realised your cowboy hat was knocked off in the ordeal, the man’s fingers twisted into the hair on the back of your head, not tugging, but warning enough. His other hand had your collarbones pressing down, and you grabbed his wrist, glaring up at him.

“You must be so proud of yourself right now.” Your tone was sarcastic as the man chuckled under the bandana covering his face, and you could see the blatant amusement dancing in his eyes. You would bet on your cowboy hat that he was smirking, too.

“You aren’t the smartest pea in the pond.” Another low blow that got your blood pumping faster, nostrils flaring from anger.

“What makes you smarter? You literally needed a distraction to free yourself.” You fired back, your jaw clenching. For some reason, freeing yourself was a distant thought in your mind, even though it would’ve been comically easy. He didn’t restrict your hands, you could punch him, scratch him, even try and push him off.

“Right, and all you needed to free me was a distraction.” Well, that spurred you into action, your fist rising, but he caught your flying hand before it could fully raise. He tsked under his bandana, and you felt your cheeks heat up from both annoyance and embarrassment. This hadn’t happened before; men rarely managed to outsmart you or even overpower you, and what was most embarrassing was the fact that the criminal wasn’t even attempting to keep you subdued. It was your body that suddenly didn’t want to fight back, your heart racing while your muscles relaxed. To be fair, the man wasn’t making it difficult either; it was as if he found this fight amusing and was holding you still because he took pleasure in it.

“Well then, there’s nothing to brag about to your pals.” And suddenly, it felt like you were both just measuring dicks as to who was better at this and that, it was downright humiliating, but your mouth wouldn’t shut up, “You went down embarrassingly easily, I could headbutt you right now and you’d pass out instantly.”

The man laughed, his cat-like eyes scrunching up in amusement, “Well then? What are you waiting for?”

“A distraction.” You smirked and watched as the man’s eyes narrowed at you. You bucked your hips and twisted to the side, easily throwing the man off yourself. It wasn’t even hilarious anymore, just how easy it was to get him off, but it felt as if he wasn’t really trying to fight you. And why was that? You threatened to hand him to the Sheriff of the town, did he think he could get away with it? But he recovered quickly; he was up on his feet in a blink, and you were moving too, not about to let him go. You caught his arm and twisted it around, pinning it to his back as you held the man’s chin from behind, his back pressed to your chest.

“I have to admit,” The man’s voice was lower, filled with amusement and poorly timed seduction, “I’ve never been manhandled by a woman before. It’s kinda hot.”

“Shut up,” You hissed, looking for the rope usually around your waist to tie criminals up in situations like this one.

“Looking for this?” The man sing-songed, and your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up again, his left hand holding the exact rope that should’ve been on your waist. That, however, wasn’t exactly what got your heart racing while your ears rang loudly, blood going cold. Chasing a criminal was inked under the man’s fair skin on his forearm, as clear as day, glaring back at your gaping expression, “See? You shouldn’t discredit me so much, darlin’.”

“Shut up.” You hissed, snapping yourself out of your delusional thoughts as you wondered whether it was him. But there was no way this man right in front of you was your soulmate. Jostled by the thought, you pushed him forward and watched as he braced himself before he could fall into the building’s stone wall, quick on his feet as he turned around. You were about to say something, you should’ve said something, but you were instead gaping at him, plotting how to rip his bandana off. The man wasn’t moving either, for some reason, he was closely watching your expression, his eyes landing on your covered forearm. You were smarter than him with that, at least. An explosion resounded in the distance, and you both jumped, your eyes wide when you realised it had come from the market.

“Would you look at that?” The man laughed, tipping his cowboy hat forward before he winked, “That’s my cue to go.”

And before you could lunge for him, he was already sprinting back down the way you had come, and for some reason, you didn’t chase after him. You looked down at the ground and bent down to grab your cowboy hat and rope, wondering whether the man you had just caught might have been your soulmate. Your gut twisted oddly, and you gulped, your jaw clenching as you took the way you had come, going back to the market to find out what the explosion was all about. At least you could’ve snatched his satchel bag to return all those hot buns.

Your heart raced as you sprung up from the bed, eyes falling on the open window. You had forgotten to close it last night, and now your skin was covered in goosebumps as a chilly breeze blew inside. It had gotten significantly colder yesterday evening, making you cosy up underneath the blanket, your body tired from the day you’ve had. Your forehead was covered in a sheen layer of sweat, and you tapped it down with your arm, slowly realising that your forearm was burning. You lowered your arm and turned it around, staring at the inked words unblinking. Bank robbery. You gulped, suddenly feeling a hollowness in your chest as your eyebrows furrowed. The outlaws that were in this town…so was it one of them? Your soulmate—was it one of the outlaws? You gulped, your heart suddenly racing as you threw the blanket over your feet and sat on the edge of your bed, caressing your skin gently. In moments like this one, you wished your soulmate was a country boy, a farmer, a simple mine worker, anything but a criminal. What you did for a living didn’t mesh well with your soulmate’s profession, and you knew Sheriff Jeong would never understand you.

His soulmate was an outlaw too, judging based on the inked words on his inner forearm, and he had loathed his partner before even meeting them. You, on the other hand, couldn’t share the sentiment. You were displeased, of course, you were, but you’ve spent your whole life lonely and watching couples from afar, wondering what it felt like to finally find your soulmate, to reunite with them for an eternity. Nobody would’ve guessed, but deep down, you dreamed of a romance like in the old folk tales. You wished to be madly in love, blinded by it to the point that you couldn’t breathe if your soulmate wasn’t next to you. You winced as the ink felt like it was splitting your skin in two, making you wonder what was causing such a reaction since it’d never happened before. You knew today would be a long day, and you also knew you had to face the consequences of your soulmate’s actions. You knew you had a hard decision ahead of yourself, but you prayed to any existent deity that your soulmate wouldn’t be the worst of the worst. Maybe he was part of the outlaw gang you’ve been chasing, maybe he was just a local from this town, trying to make amends. Committing so many crimes wasn’t an excuse, but if he was doing it to fend for himself and his poor family, you’d let it slide. With a heavy sigh, you dragged yourself off the bed and went inside the bathroom, well aware of your next step.

The market had been a mess of panicked people by the time you had reached it yesterday, but you were glad to hear nobody was injured. Someone had set fire to an unoccupied table before the first small granite had gone off, making a store’s windows explode since it was ignited right underneath it. The old lady was shaken when you had checked in with her, and you decided to accompany her home after you bought more bread than was necessary from the lady with the little boy. You had searched for the handsome stranger’s face in the crowd, but he was nowhere to be seen, much like the thief you’ve had the chance to catch but hesitated. You weren’t pleased with yourself, but your body had refused to cooperate when you needed it most. Now, however, you knew what was the right thing to do. You didn’t want to draw even more attention to yourself, so after a quick trip to the stable to make sure Carlos was still there, healthy and safe, you took off on foot towards the Bank. It was rather close since it was in the heart of the town, and you had decided to stake out in front of it, sitting at a cafeteria.

Their coffee was overpriced and not as good as back in your town, but it would do for now. You weren’t here to enjoy a cup of coffee, after all, but to keep your eyes on the Bank and observe who came and went. You had an eye for telling the locals and newcomers apart; it was their way of dressing and conversing, of looking at ease, versus the gorgeous man with red hair who looked fidgety as he walked towards the Bank. He was wearing rather hand-me-down robes, trying a bit too hard to fit in with the crowd. It made him look even more obvious, and you smiled as you realised you had caught the first suspicious person. He walked inside the Bank, and you wondered whether it was him or not, subconsciously rubbing your forearm. You wore no sleeves today, and you made no effort to cover your arm up. It was time you faced whatever the Universe had in store for you if you came across your soulmate.

You took a sip of your coffee just as a large horse galloped right into the middle of the square, coming to a stop in front of the Bank. You realised with elation that it was the handsome man from the Inn, his sharp eyes narrowed as he surveyed the place. You quickly lowered your head and pretended to be interested in the newspaper by your cup of coffee, having forgone your cowboy hat today as you knew it would attract unwanted attention. You kept your leather pants, however, and borrowed a sleeveless shirt from the pretty girl behind the bar. She was rather eager to lend it to you after you offered her a soaring kiss, one she certainly wouldn’t forget. When you deemed it safe to look up again, you realised the handsome man was moving on, the redhead having just left the building. Your eyes narrowed, and you watched as a short-haired buff man approached your target, throwing an arm around him and casually walking off with him. You were determined to sit there all day long if it meant catching the outlaws red-handed, but that thought was quickly changed when a motorcar pulled up in front of the Bank, its engine running loudly.

A rather tall man with gorgeous long black hair stepped out, keeping the door open for someone…and your eyes widened. It was the same man from the market, the thief, the one you had chased! Your heart lurched, and your hand shook as you loudly placed your porcelain cup on the small plate, leaning forward in your seat as if that would help you see the two men better. They didn’t seem to exchange any words between each other, just a nod of a head before the long-haired man confidently walked up to the Bank’s entrance, smiling gratuitously as the door was opened for him, the other one sneaking off to the side of the building. Something in your gut told you to get up and go after the shorter one, his outfit almost the same as yesterday except that his vest was missing and an obvious pistol was lodged in his pants against his lower back. You stood and left your unfinished cup of coffee behind, making sure the road was safe as you crossed it in a run, keeping your eyes on the thief. He walked down the narrow alleyway, his gloved fingers tracing the wall before he turned the corner, making you hurry up since you didn��t know what the back of the building hid.

You made sure your steps were light and silent, and you found your fingers tracing the same spots the criminal had too, your cheeks flushing red in embarrassment. You yanked your hands away and let them lay limply by your sides as you pressed up against the building to peek around the corner. The man was smoking, a tobacco dangling from his lips, but you couldn’t see his face since his cowboy hat was pulled down low again. Much like you, he hadn’t bothered hiding his forearm, and you had a burning curiosity to know what the ink said. You flinched as a door you hadn’t noticed was there was thrown open, the hiss of a voice beckoning your target inside. The man chuckled and didn’t bother putting out his tobacco, and you were quick on your feet as the door started shutting quickly behind the man. You managed to wadge your foot inside before it could close, and realising you probably didn’t have much time to act, you flung the door open as you took a deep breath. Almost as if the man sensed he was being followed, he was leaning against a table facing the door, tobacco put out and a smirk on his red lips. You froze, your heart nervously skipping a beat, and the man chuckled.

“You are not as sleek as you think you are, bounty hunter.” You gulped, watching the man as he chuckled under his breath. You felt like you couldn’t speak, too focused on the burning sensation of your arm and the racing of your heart, “Mingi saw you leaving this morning and figured something wasn’t right. You have a pretty pistol, but it screams Sheriff.”

And he was right, Sheriff Jeong had gifted it to you many years ago. It was custom-made and expensive, resembling the one most officers used. You gulped, suddenly not as brave as you used to be. The criminal, however, seemed to have more to say, “We met yesterday too, thanks for not turning me in. Those buns were delicious, by the way. Did you get some for yourself?”

Your jaw clenched, eyes narrowing, “No, because you stole them all.”

The outlaw chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, “What can I say…I have six mouths to feed.”

“Is the food at the Inn not good enough?” You quirked an eyebrow, suddenly realising why he had seemed familiar yesterday. The day you had arrived in town and had gone up to your room, the man leaving the one across from yours had been this man, the outlaw. All this time, he was right under your nose. You felt your heart rate rise in anger, your fists clenching by your sides.

“Meh, I’ve certainly had worse.” The man pushed off the table, fearlessly stalking towards you, “But what’s the fun in following the rules? I love a little chaos.”

“I know.” The words slipped out your mouth before you could catch yourself. Did you know? Something in your gut told you that yes, you did know, you’ve known your whole life.

“You do?” The man raised an eyebrow, stopping a few inches in front of you. Tackling him to the ground would be easy, but your body refused to move just yet, “How come?”

“How do you know I’m a bounty hunter?” You answered his question with a question, your heart racing as you could see the man’s lips pull into an amused smirk. You were itching to see his whole face, your fingers trembled at the thought of knocking his cowboy hat back to see his face. You gulped, waiting for his answer as the man shrugged, tilting his head slightly.

“I’ll call it a hunch, I guess.” And then, you gasped as he jumped forward all of a sudden, pressing you up against the door. You hadn’t expected him to attack you, but you finally snapped out of your frozen state and took action. You yanked your head to the side as his fist came towards your face, slightly thrown off guard that he could so easily punch a woman. Perhaps he saw it on your face because he chuckled, his left hand tightening around your bicep, “My apologies, sugar, did you think I didn’t hit women?”

“My mistake for considering you a gentleman.” You hissed under your breath and took a left swing at his face, which he easily dodged. It felt just like yesterday, with pointless punches thrown at each other with no intention of harming the other. Your body had never acted on its own like this before, and you wondered why it was happening now of all times.

“Never mistake an outlaw for a gentleman, sugar.” The man chuckled as you managed to free your left arm and elbowed him in the neck, the man making a choked-up sound. You shook him off yourself and went to kick his legs out of underneath him, but he managed to avoid your kick even as he clutched at his neck. Your next punch, however, he couldn’t deflect as he was busy getting his breath back, and his head flew to the side, knocking his cowboy hat off. You didn’t wait for him to recover as you got behind him and pushed him, throwing your arm around his neck once he was hunched over, putting him in a headlock. The man’s eyes were wide as he grabbed your arm, his nails digging painfully into your exposed skin. You turned your head, needing to see the face of the man, only to freeze in shock.

“Kim Hongjoong?” Your voice was barely a whisper, but your faces were so close next to each other that he heard you. He chuckled, gulping hard as his eyes fell on your face, a satisfied smirk still on his lips.

“Surprise, sugar, no bounty hunter’s managed to catch me before.” You felt speechless as you felt all of your hard work finally come to fruition. You had Kim Hongjoong in your arms, at your mercy, your pockets full of coins that would last you and the next generation if you spent it wisely once you handed the criminal over to the Sheriff, “Close your mouth before a fly flies inside.”

Your cheeks burned, and you felt your arm lightly soften against his neck, but then you quickly snapped out of it and willed yourself to focus. The man was gorgeous; none of those sketches did his beauty justice. His sharp features weren’t as intimidating as the handsome stranger’s from the Inn—who was part of his outlaw band, now you realised—but his eyes held danger, a promise of pain and unforgiveness. You gulped, tracing his nose and red lips, your eyes lingering on them, and you felt your tongue poking out to wet your own lips. The outlaw, Hongjoong, hummed to himself and touched your cheek with his left hand, making you jump.

“Bank robbery.” You heard him whispering, his eyes glancing down at the forearm exposed to him since you had him in a headlock with your left hand, “Peculiar, isn’t it?”

You gulped nervously, your heart racing even faster as you allowed your eyes to fall onto his own exposed forearm now that his arm was outstretched, his fingers grazing your cheek. Finally catching the outlaw. You gasped and pushed Hongjoong away, a coldness seeping deep into your bones despite the scorching hot air inside the dimly lit room. Hongjoong looked at you apprehensively, watching you as if you were a rabid animal, analysing your features and body language. You didn’t know what to do or how to react; it all felt too much, too overwhelming. Why did you have to be right? Where was Sheriff Jeong to make fun of your fate and tell you it was just a joke all along? Why was Kim Hongjoong your soulmate, and why did your body yearn so desperately for his touch again? It felt hard to breathe as your eyes filled with tears, and you didn’t want to break down, but it suddenly felt like you weren’t so alone anymore.

“Oh, don’t cry, sweetheart.” And when you felt arms around your body, you started crying hard, your body shaking with sobs as your fingers curled into his shirt, squeezing Hongjoong to yourself, “It’s alright, I’m here now.”

“You’re a terrible person.” You managed to get out as you were still crying, blinded by the tears in your eyes as you tried to look at his face, “You steal from people, you hurt others, you’ve killed too, I—and I had to sit through all of that, wondering all this time why was I fated to a man like you. Why is it you, Kim Hongjoong? I was supposed to bring you back to the Sheriff, I was supposed to get rich off of you—I—I’ve been chasing you for so long, it’s unfair!”

Your tears subsided as your anger won over, and you pushed Hongjoong away, staring at him with a glare as his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowing, “I’ve been wondering too why I was fated with someone who wanted to catch me, harm me perhaps, hand me over to live a miserable life.”

A deafening silence fell over the two of you as the realisation settled in that Hongjoong might’ve been feeling the same conflicting emotions as you were. Your heart raced in the excitement that you had finally found your soulmate, finally feeling complete, but your brain told you that you could still come out of this victoriously, that you could hand him in and live a life alone…it’s what you were used to after all.

“It’s not too late to walk away,” Hongjoong muttered quietly, caressing the ink on his skin, his gulp loud, “We won’t harm you if you leave us alone, I promise—”

“Are you telling your own soulmate to walk away? To leave you alone after I finally found you?!” Your voice was rising in anger, and Hongjoong flinched, glancing behind you.

“Let’s keep it down or else we’ll be discovered,” He suggested and took a step closer, his eyes analysing your face once again. You gulped when he didn’t stop approaching you and almost flinched when he reached out, his warm fingers grazing your cheek again, “Don’t you hate me?”

“I hate what you are and that you’ve made me chase you for so long that I was forced to be alone for thirty years.” You whispered, eyebrows furrowing as Hongjoong’s fingers traced your eyebrows down to your nose, under your eyes and then your lips, his gulp loud.

“You’re beautiful,” He whispered with a smile, stepping even closer to you, your faces just a breath away, “Come with me, learn my world, let me show you the brighter side of it.”

“That’s not who I am, Hongjoong.”

“No? Then who are you?”

You gulped, letting the question settle in your mind. Who were you? What did you have besides Sheriff Jeong and a house you had forcefully claimed as yours? You were nothing but a lonely woman hunting down criminals because it filled your time and distracted you from the void in your chest, a void that was no longer eating away at your heart.

“Promise you’ll never leave me. Promise you’ll keep me safe,” You gulped, already dreading the sudden twist of your future. Were you doing the right thing right now? Was this the smart choice? “Promise you’ll never hurt Sheriff Jeong.”

“I promise to keep you safe and never leave you, not now that I’ve found you.” Hongjoong chuckled then, cupping your jaw gently as shouts came from behind the door. You tensed, but Hongjoong didn’t seem phased by it, “And I won’t hurt Sheriff Jeong, even though I wonder who that is…”

“Not just you, your whole gang.” Your eyebrows furrowed as Hongjoong traced your bottom lip with his thumb, smirking at himself.

“Okay, fine, no one will hurt the Sheriff.” You hummed, eyes widening when Hongjoong closed the distance and pressed his warm lips against yours, tasting like the homemade meal your mother used to make that you loved so much. Hongjoong felt like home, like coming home after a long day and falling into your bed, knowing it always had your back, always would be there for you. These comparisons felt silly as you kissed him back, fingers tangling in his black hair, but they were everything you’d always wished for.

A sudden explosion outside made you yelp, and Hongjoong smirked, letting go of you to grab his cowboy hat, extending his hand for you to take, “Well, that’s our cue, sweetheart. We better get going before the Sheriffs get here.”

You knew Sheriff Jeong would hate you for an eternity for accepting the outlaw’s extended hand, but there was nothing you could do when your soulmate was grinning at you with mischief and wickedness in his eyes, so confident and proud as your fingers intertwined.

154 notes · View notes

cleo-fox · 14 hours ago

Text

Captain's Orders

Summary: You and James Conrad do not get along. You find him arrogant and obnoxious; he thinks you are disrespectful and reckless. You would be glad to be rid of him as soon as the Skull Island mission concludes. Unfortunately for you, there's a mandatory seventy-two hour quarantine that you have to contend with…and you are stuck with James Conrad for the duration.

And in addition to being arrogant and obnoxious, Conrad is also extremely attractive…and your close quarters make it a lot harder to hide the fact that you want him.

Pairing: James Conrad x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, blow jobs, cunnilingus, enemies to lovers, Dom/sub undertones (or overtones, honestly), sir kink, teasing, masturbation, quarantine (but just as a plot device, no one actually gets sick),

A/N: I am not particularly religious, but I do feel like my file has been flagged for horny purgatory based on the contents of this fic. This is what I have sacrificed for my craft.

You were so focused on getting to Skull Island that you didn’t really give much thought to what the return might be like, apart from your general desire to make it back alive and unharmed.

You are fairly certain that no one had mentioned a mandatory seventy-two hour quarantine, though.

“It’s standard procedure,” you’re told by an unsmiling medic in a hazmat suit. “Don’t want you bringing back any novel illnesses.”

Fine. That’s sensible. You can live with that.

Or you could have, had it not been for the fact that there were a limited number of quarantine units available and for whatever godforsaken reason, it had taken them two fucking hours to finish your processing. This would have been fine, except by that point, there’s only one unit left for two people.

And one of those people is James Conrad.

You and Conrad have been butting heads since before you shipped off to Skull Island. You’ll fully admit that he’s very capable…but he just has this way of saying things that sets your teeth on edge. If you’re being charitable, you’d call this quality self-assuredness; most of the time, you call it arrogance. And apparently, there’s something about you that is equally frustrating to him because the entire mission had been a stream of bickering that was only interrupted by an island that seemed to be doing its level best to kill you.

And if that wasn’t complicated enough, there’s also this: your annoyance with James Conrad is almost constantly warring with the fact that you desperately want to fuck him. Not only is he handsome, but he’s fit and insists on wearing a t-shirt that may as well be made of shrink wrap from the way it clings to his muscles. And for every irritating and self righteous thing that comes out of his mouth, there’s also the fact that he’s got that deep, smoother-than-smooth voice that you suspect would sound particularly delectable uttering absolute filth as he fucks you from behind (or from any position, really. You’re not picky).

Sometimes you think he might return your interest, but it’s hard to tell. He’ll be sneering and dismissive one moment and the next, you’ll catch him staring at your mouth in the middle of an argument. You suspect that you have a million tells like that—it’s hard to tear your eyes away from him, especially in that t-shirt. And those jeans. (God, those jeans. You want to peel those jeans off his body with your teeth).

The idea of no longer having to deal with him or navigate those feelings is relief tinged with a lot of disappointment. He’s a pain in the ass…but he’s a pain in the ass who you desperately want to fuck. The possibility of resolving that tension is too tempting to ignore.

So the news that you’re going to be stuck with him for another seventy-two hours in a living space designed for one person is as thrilling as it is profoundly irritating.

Whether you’ll end this quarantine fucking each other or killing each other remains to be seen.

“They never said anything about this,” you grouse to yourself as you throw your bag onto the floor.

“They absolutely did.” Conrad gives you that patronizing, know-it-all look that has been grating on your last nerve for the entirety of your acquaintance.

“I wasn’t actually talking to you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “So you were talking to yourself, then? Should I flag that as a symptom or were you like this before?”

You sigh and give him your best scowl. “Fuck off, Conrad.”

The smirk doesn’t go away. “I would if I could, darling.”

You roll your eyes, even as that word—darling—draws goosebumps up your spine. You try and fail not to think of how that word might sound falling from his lips as he fucks you into the mattress.

You take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. “I don’t know how I’m meant to make it through seventy-two hours of this.”

Conrad manages an expression that’s both neutral and smug, which is somehow more infuriating than if he’d just been smug.

“Would you like the shower first?” he asks with the feigned sort of politeness that you use when you’re trying to change the subject because the other person’s being unreasonable. And it’s the sort of fake politeness that you can’t call him on because you’ll just look crazy, which is even more irritating.

You force a mild, totally unbothered smile. “You can go ahead.”

You did this to prove a point (you’re not sure what point), but you regret it almost as soon as the bathroom door shuts behind him. You’re covered in several days’ worth of dirt, sweat, and probably a little bit of blood and monster goo, which limits you to sitting in the metal folding chair that’s propped in the corner like an afterthought. One of the caps on the legs is missing and it wobbles slightly every time you shift your weight.

The rest of the quarantine unit isn’t much better than that shitty folding chair. It has the sort of blandly institutional aesthetic you’d expect from the military and everything is a rather unpleasant shade of beige or brown—the tile on the floor, the paneled walls, the furniture. There’s a ratty couch that boasts a spring making its way through the middle seat, though an attempt has been made to hide it with a bit of duct tape gone gummy with grime at the edges. They’d left a second stack of blankets and sheets on the couch, but the longer you look at it, the more certain you are that it’s not fit for human use. Between that couch and the jungle floor, you think you’d take the jungle floor.

You turn your gaze to the bed. It’s a double and it looks decently clean and comfortable. It would probably make sense to just share the bed, rather than subjecting either one of you to the couch.

The thought sends goosebumps up your spine. It’s a practical suggestion, certainly. But there are other benefits.

Conrad emerges from the bathroom after twenty minutes, freshly shaved and showered and wearing an undershirt that somehow seems tighter than that stupid t-shirt he’d been wearing on Skull Island.

You hastily avert your eyes and go to retrieve your bag.

“Shall we flip for the bed?” says Conrad, setting his own bag on the couch.

You sigh heavily as you shoulder your bag. “It pains me to say this, but we should share it.”

Conrad looks mildly surprised, but doesn’t immediately counter with something smug. “Share it?”

“We’ve been sleeping on jungle floors for days and that couch looks like it’s breeding a new species of flea. You stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine, no one has to suffer. Okay?”

He thinks for a moment and then nods. “Okay.”

You hurry into the bathroom before you get anymore distracted by how he looks in that damn undershirt.

You shut the door behind you and are immediately confronted with a different challenge. The steam from his shower lingers. Everything smells like his soap and shaving cream. It’s annoying.

And also inconveniently hot.

Your mind wanders to how he looked just moments ago, clean-shaven and hair damp, wearing that stupidly tight undershirt. And from there you can’t help but think of how he looked on the island covered in dirt and sweat, the smug curl of his lips as he said something to put you in your place, the steely flint of his eyes when you talked back, his fucking biceps in those goddamn sleeves. (Is it normal that you want to bite his biceps?)

And now you’re undressing in a room that smells like him and he’s in the other room looking like that…

By the time the water is running and heated up, you are resigned to the fact that this shower is going to end with you silently getting yourself off to the thought of James Conrad.

You’re not so far gone that you trust there’s enough hot water for both tasks, though, and you grudgingly admit that the actual shower part is most important, so you begin with that. You try not to think too much of Conrad—there will be time for that soon—but you become gradually more aroused as your shower progresses. Even the simple pass of your fingers against your skin is heightened, your body gradually growing warm and restless with wanting.

Finally, you finish washing and lean back against the shower wall. The water is starting to cool slightly, but not enough to worry you. You turn the tap further to the left and there’s a wave of warmer water. Perfect.

You slide your fingers between your legs. It’s going to be quick, you can tell that already. Conrad appears in your mind as you roll your fingers over your slick clit. You wonder if he’s as pent up as you are, if he got himself off in the same shower. Or god, what if he somehow worked out what you’re doing right now? What if he came into the bathroom and yanked the shower curtain aside and told you off for touching yourself without him? You could imagine his stern look as he stripped down, maybe he’d say something sexy like, “if you’re going to act like a slut, you should have the decency to invite me to join in—”

The water abruptly goes cold. You gasp and slam the tap off.

Fuck. It fucking figures.

You briefly consider staying in the shower and simply finishing the job, but your skin is quickly chilling as the steam leaves the shower and it’s enough to kind of kill the mood, even though your cunt is still pulsing. So you dry off and pull on your pajamas, still pent up and aching.

Conrad is in bed and under the blankets when you return, his impossibly broad back already facing your side of the bed. You turn down the covers on your side, trying not to let on to the fact that your pussy is throbbing or that the man lying next to you in bed is prompting some of the filthiest thoughts you’ve had in a while.

You situate yourself on your side, facing your back towards him. You’re not touching, but you can still feel the heat radiating off him, which also doesn’t do any favors for the ache between your legs.

“I’m turning off the light.”

“All right.”

You switch off the lamp on the bedside table, plunging the room into darkness.

You settle back down against your pillow. The combination of a comfortable bed after days of sleeping on the ground should be enough to knock you out fairly quickly.

Instead, you find yourself unable to think of anything other than the warm, pulsing ache between your thighs and what it would be like to have Conrad resolve that for you. He’d probably be a good fuck—he’s that particular combination of stern and capable that sets your nerves ablaze. His body is annoyingly perfect and he’d probably feel annoyingly good. Maybe you wouldn’t mind him being chivalrous if chivalrous meant burying his face between your thighs or fucking you so hard you see stars.

You stare at the illuminated hand of the alarm clock, feeling yourself grow wetter and more awake with every passing second. If you could get yourself off, you’d fall right asleep. You should’ve just pushed through the chill of the shower. If you’d done that, you’d be sated and sleeping right now, not staring at the clock and listening to Conrad’s even breathing beside you.

He’d fallen asleep rather quickly, you note sourly. Perhaps he’d been able to take advantage of the full hot water tank and get himself off in the shower. Your mind immediately conjures the scene, Conrad standing in a spray of water, leisurely pumping his cock, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Biting his fist to keep quiet as he comes—

Fuck. None of this is helping you.

You stare at the clock. It’s been just over an hour.

You shift slightly, your cunt aching. Maybe you could just…

You should dismiss the thought automatically: it would be ridiculous to get yourself off here, even if he is asleep.

But is he really going to know?

That should also be a nonstarter—you’re not some kind of creeping pervert, after all. But you just spent days on a deadly jungle mission that included a significant amount of time being sexually frustrated by a man who looks like he strolled in from a Michelangelo painting. You’re really fucking horny and it would be so easy to take care of the ache that’s settled so heavily in your hips. Conrad wouldn’t know. You would be discreet.

You don’t realize you’ve made your decision until you start sliding your hand into your sleep shorts.

You inhale sharply as your fingers graze your clit. It’s ridiculous that such an infuriating man has made you this wet, this sensitive. It’ll probably be quick—maybe five minutes at most.

Your lips part as you fall into a familiar rhythm, your mind drifting back to Conrad. You imagine him watching you, telling you what to do, calling you a good girl, ordering you to come. You’re starting to tense, desire coiling tight in your hips. He’d probably make you come more than once—on his fingers, his tongue, his cock. You’re not sure which one you want most, though you suspect he excels at all methods. Your breath quickens. Just another minute and you’ll come. Your pussy is aching so badly and your fingers feel so good and you’re so close to getting what you need. Just a little bit more and you’ll finally get a little relief—

“I know what you’re doing.” Conrad’s voice comes from the other side of the bed.

Shit.

You freeze, your hand stilling between your legs. You’d thought he was asleep and you’d believed it so completely that you hadn’t even considered trying to come up with a graceful exit strategy. You carefully ease your hand out of your shorts.

“What’s that?” you say, trying to make your voice sound sleepy, like he’d just woken you up and not caught you with your hand down your shorts.

“Don’t lie to me.” His tone is sharp and uncompromising, and it plucks at something deep in your belly.

“Conrad, wait—”

You can tell he’s sitting up, the mattress shifting slightly. You sit up as well, your heart pounding in your chest. It’s dark and you can’t quite get a read on him—not that you’d know how to fix it if you could.

But then his fingers close around your wrist and he brings your slick fingers up to his mouth.

Oh.

His lips close on the tip of your index finger, his tongue tasting the pad of your fingertip as he sucks it deeper into the heat of his mouth. You take in a shaky breath as burning desire rolls through you like molten lava.

“You taste desperate,” he says, releasing your finger. “Do you really need to come that badly? Is that why you’ve been such a brat?”

You didn’t think it was possible to be more turned on, but your cunt is now throbbing with an urgency that you’ve never felt before. It’s like all those days of quiet desperation suddenly caught up with you and now the only thing you can think of is his touch.

“Answer me,” he says, voice growing stern.

You lick your lips. “Yeah…I—I need to come. Badly.”

“I see.” His thumb traces a circle on the palm of your hand and then on the inside of your wrist. “And you’d like me to help you with that, is that it?”

There’s no hesitation. “Yes.”

“Then you should start calling me sir.”

Your capacity for rational thought evaporates instantly. His words and calm control have you weak kneed and aching, beholden to wants that you’ve been denying yourself for days and needs that you’ve ignored for quite a lot longer. Pure desire roars through your body, pooling in your hips, waiting to be properly unleashed.

You lick your lips. “Yes, sir.”

You feel the mattress shift again and the lamp on the bedside table clicks on.

Blinking against the light, you sit up, your eyes locked on him as he walks to your side of the bed.

“You have been insubordinate, impertinent, reckless…utterly infuriating.” His gaze roves over your body and he licks his lips. “If there’s one thing you learn from tonight, it’s going to be how to take a fucking order.”

Reflexively, you open your mouth to snap back at him before you realize what you’re doing and promptly shut it again.

Conrad’s eyes shine like a cat that’s just cornered a mouse. “That mouth is going to get you in trouble if you’re not careful, sweetheart. Are you going to behave or do I need to find something to keep it occupied?”

Truthfully, you wouldn’t mind doing what he’s implying, but the ache between your legs is becoming unbearable enough to make you cooperative. “I’ll be good,” you say, too quickly. “Sir,” you add.

His gaze is unreadable. “Undress.”

You quickly comply, pulling off your t-shirt followed by your sleep shorts and underwear. You resist the urge to squirm under the heavy weight of his gaze as it travels leisurely up the length of your naked body, the pulse between your thighs quickening as desire turns his eyes darker with every moment.

He sits down next to you on the bed. Your palms itch to touch him—to peel the stark white undershirt over his head and rake your hands over his chest, to rub your aching cunt against the steadily growing bulge in his boxers—but the look in his eyes and his stern words from earlier tell you that you need to wait for him to tell you what to do. You press your thighs together, trying to keep your aching need under control.

Almost subconsciously, your gaze drops to his lap and your lips part just slightly. His cock is straining against the fabric of his boxers, desperately hard. He may be acting all tough and stern, but he wants you—maybe even as much as you want him.

You sort of lose yourself in the moment and the sound of his low voice startles you. “You don’t deserve my cock yet.” His tone brooks no arguments, but your cunt aches all the more at the thought of not having him.

Reluctantly, you tear your eyes away from his cock. “Yet?”

“Well,” he says, trailing a hand from your hip to your ribs, “that depends on how good you are, doesn’t it?”

“I can be good,” you say.

There’s a hint of mockery in his laugh that makes you want to talk back. Or fuck him—you’re not quite sure which.

“You think you can be good? You’ve already forgotten your manners and I can tell you’re thinking about talking back.”

You can feel desperation start to claw from the ache in your hips. “I’m sorry, sir, I just—I really need to come.”

“Can’t even think straight,” he says, clicking his tongue. His gaze drops to your breasts and meanders down your body. “Show me your cunt.”

You spread your legs and bare yourself to him. His gaze is cool and impassive as he looks you over, lips parting slightly.

“Oh, you fucking need it,” he says quietly. “Look at your desperate little cunt, all wet and spread out for me like a treat.”

You can’t help it: you whine. Every inch of you is aching, yearning for relief.

Conrad looks unmoved. “You were being very wicked, weren’t you? Playing with your pretty pussy right next to me in bed and not letting me see.”

You nod, your heart racing. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He licks his lips. “Sorry’s not good enough, darling. Not with how fucking hard you’ve made me every goddamn day of this mission.” He finally raises his gaze to meet yours. “Touch yourself for me. Show me how you play with your needy cunt.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Yes, sir.”

You slide your fingers between your legs and hold his gaze until your eyes flutter shut at the first pass of your fingers against your throbbing clit. You didn’t think it was possible but you’re even wetter now than you were before. A moan falls from your lips, unguarded and wanton.

“That feel good?” His voice is a low rasp, eyes hooded.

“Yes, sir,” you gasp.

“Look at how wet you are. It’s fucking obscene.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I need to come so bad.”

He chuckles, his eyes darkening as he watches you. “I know you do. But only good girls get to come and you’ve been such a fucking brat.”

You moan again, resisting the urge to whine as you change the rhythm of your fingers to press more indirectly on your clit. His words are already amplifying the rolling tension in your hips and if you’re not careful, it’ll send you over the edge too soon.

“I think you want to be a good girl, though,” he says. “You’re putting on such a nice little show for me. Do you like having me watch you?”

“Yes, sir.” Your hips roll with your hand. Your orgasm is starting to take shape, pleasure flickering in your core like a live wire.

“You love this.” His eyes are hooded as his gaze roves openly over your body. “Being so filthy and showing me what you like. Getting that sweet cunt ready to be filled to the brim with my hard cock.”

Another whine falls from your lips.

“And you’re making such pretty little noises, too.” His smile turns sly. “That’s what gave you away, you know. You thought you were being so quiet and clever, but I could hear all those little gasps. And every one made me so. fucking. hard.”

You arch against the mattress, fingers pressing harder, your hips rolling.

“I almost let you finish.” He smirks, licking his lips. “But I got greedy—I wanted to see you come, I wanted to hear you make more of those sweet noises while I made you beg for me.”

You are deliciously, unbearably close.

He is rapt by the sight of you, eyes hooded. “Are you about to come, darling?”

You nod, not quite able to speak.

His eyes darken and for a moment, you think he might let you come.

In hindsight, that was extremely wistful thinking.

“Stop.”

You freeze automatically, though your body is begging you to continue. You bring your gaze to Conrad’s and he stares at you intently, like he’s waiting for you to protest. “Hands above your head,” he says after a moment.

You obey automatically, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself from saying anything as your cunt pulses with a throbbing ache. God, you had been so close. Conrad licks his lips, a hungry smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Is that all it takes to bring you to heel?” he says, eyes raking over your body. “Rubbing your needy little clit?”

You nod, your breath coming in sharp gasps. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, that would have saved me a lot of trouble had I known that.” He runs one warm palm along the inside of your thigh. “First time you gave me that bratty attitude, I would’ve bent you over and made you come until you were a whimpering mess.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, and he gives you a slow, hungry smile.

“You put on a good show of being disobedient, but you fucking love being told what to do. Your pussy’s been dripping from the moment I told you to show me your cunt.”

His hand drifts further up your body, his thumb and index finger gently tracing the bend where your leg meets your hip. You try not to squirm as your cunt throbs harder at the nearness of his hand, but your breath stutters in your throat.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asks, fingers stroking your skin.

You swallow hard, desire burning in your hips. “Please, sir.”

A slight smirk plays at his lips. “You really are a filthy girl, aren’t you? I haven’t even kissed you yet and you’re begging me to play with your pussy.”

His large hand moves to cup your cunt, his fingertips teasing the very edges of your slit, but going no further. His eyes are locked with yours and the anticipation is making you tremble.

“Tell me what you need.” Conrad’s voice is practically a purr, soft and intimate. Filthy. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I—”

The tip of his middle finger presses gently between your folds, teasing your entrance. Your breath catches.

“Fuck, I—I need to come.”

He tuts, his hand unmoving. “And what am I supposed to do about that?”

“I want…I need you to touch me.” The words come out desperate and whiny, prompting another smirk from him. “Please, sir.”

He hums and presses the heel of his palm against your pubic mound so that it pulls at the hood of your clit—enough to tease, but not enough to provide relief.

“Like this?” he asks innocently. The slight wry tilt of his lips tells you he knows the answer.

“I need more, sir.” You roll your hips up, trying to get more friction.

“More?” He swirls the tip of his finger around your entrance, still so far away from your aching clit. “How could you possibly need more?”

You bite back a whine of frustration. “My clit.”

“What about your clit?”

“I need you to touch my clit, sir.”

He licks his lips and slowly begins dragging his fingers along the length of your cunt. “You want me to touch your clit,” he says, like he’s making casual conversation. His fingertip trails up to your clit and pauses. “Like this?”

You bite back a frustrated whimper. “You need to rub it.”

He traces a slow circle on your clit and you let out a low moan. You know he’s not going to let you come any time soon, but it feels so amazing to finally be touched that you almost don’t care.

“Oh, I see,” he murmurs, his fingers easing into a slow, twisting rhythm,, “you want me to keep rubbing your clit until you come on my fingers.”

“Yes, sir,” you gasp.

“Mmm, I’m afraid it’s not going to be quite that easy, darling.”

“But I need it, sir.”

“I know you do, but you need to convince me that you can be a good girl.” He casts a greedy look down the length of your body. “Your pussy’s so fucking ready and we’ve barely started—you must have been having some very wicked thoughts.”

You nod. There’s no point in lying.

“What were you thinking of, you wicked, filthy girl? What got you so worked up and wet?”

“You.” This truth falls easily—almost too easily—from your lips.

“Yeah?” He’s already managed to find the perfect movement and pressure for your clit. “Be more specific.”

You take in a shaky breath. “I was—fuck—I was thinking about you touching me like this.”

“Surely that’s not all,” he says. “You’re much too wet for that to be all.”

“I…I tried touching myself in the shower. Before the hot water ran out.”

He laughs, low and hungry. “Oh, you’re even more wicked than I thought.” He rubs your clit firmly. “What were you thinking about in the shower?”

“I…fuck, just like that—I was thinking about what would happen if you walked in and caught me. What you’d do to me. What it’d feel like to take your orders.”

“What else?”

“I thought about you touching yourself. About how maybe you’d jerked off in the shower, too.” You moan and he slows his fingers slightly. “I thought about you ordering me to come, what it’d feel like to come all over your cock.”

“Awfully bold of you.” His eyes are hooded. “Do you think you’ve been good enough for me to let you come on my cock?”

You moan. “No, sir, I’ve been so bad.”

“That’s right.” His voice comes out like a purr, stern but pleased. “You’ve been a very bad, wicked girl. Touching yourself, playing with this wet pussy without sharing. You’re going to need to be very, very good before I even think about filling you up with my come.”

“Yes, sir.”

He smirks again. “I have to say, I’m rather fond of this more agreeable side of you.” His gaze drags over your body again. “Tell me you like being my good girl.”

“I—”

His eyes are dancing like he knows that you’d rather not admit this.

You lick your lips. “I…I like being your good girl, sir.” You lean hard into the word sir and you’d wager that he notices based on the way his gaze intensifies.

“Does it make you wet when I tell you what to do?”

You nod, trying to keep the remainder of your composure from fraying.

Conrad clicks his tongue. “I didn’t hear that.”

“Fuck.” You gasp, whimpering. He’s been slowly increasing his pace this whole time and you are getting dangerously close to coming.

“Say it for me, sweetheart.” The low lilt of his voice runs in sharp contrast to the way he’s touching you.

“It…it makes me so wet—” You gasp, your words cutting off as your orgasm begins to crest. “Oh god.”

“Oh, you’re about to come, aren’t you?” He eases his hand away from you. “What a shame you didn’t do as I asked, you might have earned your release.”

It’s egregiously unfair, but before you can so much utter a whimper of protest, he��s bringing his mouth down on yours, tongue pushing easily past your lips. You moan into his mouth and his tongue delves deeper in response.

The simple pleasure of kissing him is far more intense than you expect and you can’t help shivering a little.

“Come here.” He gently maneuvers you so that you straddle his lap, the thick column of his cock pressing against your sopping cunt. A whimper catches in your throat and there’s a flicker of smugness in his eyes. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” he says, his voice low and a little raspy.

“Yeah.” The word comes out breathy and shaky. You roll your hips against him, but his hands quickly still you.

“Not yet. I want you to sit and just feel how much I want you.” He strokes your thighs and presses his mouth against your neck. “Feel how hard I am against your wet cunt.” His hands skim up your waist to cup your breasts. “Think about how good it’ll feel when I finally fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.”

You tilt your head back and sigh as he expertly rolls your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, gently tugging and pinching their sensitive skin until they pebble, hard and aching in his hands. His cock throbs against you.

“Did you feel my cock get harder when I started playing with your tits?” he murmurs against your neck as he starts to kiss a soft trail down your chest.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“It is requiring every ounce of my self-control to do this properly. If my cock was in charge of things, I would’ve fucked you the moment you walked out of the bathroom wearing those little shorts and no bra.”

He ends that confession by taking your right breast into his mouth, sucking hard at your nipple and teasing it with his teeth. You moan, arching your back and curling your hands into his hair, while his hard cock presses deliciously against your sopping cunt. You’re tempted by the knowledge that the friction of the thin fabric of his boxers paired with his hard cock underneath would be more than enough to get you off if he let you rut yourself against him. But there are too many risks with disobeying him right now and you’re far too horny to be able to tolerate the inevitable delay or denial that would likely follow that insubordination. So, instead, you try desperately not to squirm as he toys with your breasts, slowly driving your desire higher and higher.

He chuckles quietly against your breasts, almost as though he’s privy to this line of thought. “Oh sweetheart, you are making such a terrible mess. Look at this.”

He lifts his head from your breasts and shifts you in his lap so you can see the unmistakable wet spot on the front of his boxers, right where your pussy was pressed against his cock.

“That’s so fucking sexy,” he says, running a fingertip along the damp fabric. “You couldn’t help your pussy getting all wet while I played with your tits, could you?”

“No, sir. It felt so good.”

“I know it did. And it made me so hard to feel you soaking my cock like that.” He leans in and kisses you slowly, one hand still squeezing and toying with your breast. He draws back slightly and lets his voice drop down the octave. “I think it’s time for me to get undressed, though, don’t you think?”

“Yes, sir,” you say with a promptness that betrays your desperation.

He pulls his undershirt up and over his head and you have to restrain yourself from immediately plastering yourself against his chest. All of his stupidly tight shirts had not been lying: his chest is as beautifully sculpted as you suspected it would be. Your gaze is only torn away when he eases you off his lap to shuck off his boxers, revealing what might be the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen. It is long and thick with a slight curve that you know is going to blow your mind later.

“Fuck.” The word falls from your lips before you can stop yourself as you stare shamelessly and openly.

“You like my cock?” His smirk is lazy, eyes hooded.

“You’re so big.” You say it almost automatically, without thinking about how it might inflate his already massive ego.

He smirks again, licking his lips. “You gonna be able to take me?”

You nod earnestly. “Yes.”

He raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” you amend.

“Good girl.” He pats his thighs. “Sit just like you were before.”

You climb back into his lap, carefully straddling him so that your cunt sits against the length of his cock. You can’t help but whimper as the silky hardness of his cock presses against your aching cunt.

“Mmm, there we go.” His voice is low and soothing as your whole body shudders. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

He looks at you with hooded eyes. “I love feeling your pussy on my cock. So warm and wet—and I bet you’re tight, too. Fucking perfect.”

He puts his hands on your hips and guides you against him. You suck in a sharp breath as your clit rubs against his shaft.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, rocking your hips against his. “You’re so wet you just slide right along my cock.”

“Fuck.”

“You’re making such a mess on my cock and I’m not even inside you.” He guides your hips just a little faster. “What’re you going to do when I fuck you properly, hm? Are you even going to be able to stand it?”

Pressure is quickly starting to build in your hips again—a lot more quickly than you expected. You grind your hips firmly against his cock. “Can I come, please? I’ve been so good and I need it so bad, sir.”

He shakes his head. “You’ll come when I say so.”

You give him your most innocent and demure look. “You could say so now, couldn’t you, sir?”

His gaze becomes stern. “Are you getting pert with me?”

You shake your head. “No, sir. I just want you to fuck me. I’m dripping. I need to come.”

He chuckles. “It makes me so hard to hear you talk like this. I love hearing how desperate and needy you are.” He kisses you fiercely, nipping hard at your bottom lip, his tongue stroking into your mouth as he rocks your hips in the same brisk rhythm.

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Sir, please, I wanna come so bad.”

“Mmm, not yet, love.”

“What do I need to do, sir?”

This is the right question to ask, based on the way his eyes light up and then darken with hunger. “You made a terrible mess on my cock, didn’t you?”

You think you know where this is going and it thrills you. “Yes, sir.”

“You were rubbing your soaking cunt all over me like a needy little slut.” His eyes darken even more. “Good girls clean up their messes, don’t they, sweetheart?”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

He licks his lips. “I want you to get on your knees and clean up the mess you made on my cock, and then maybe I’ll think about letting you come.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath as more heat floods your cunt. “Yes, sir.”

You don’t drop your gaze as you slip off his lap and onto the floor, kneeling at his feet as he spreads his legs wide. You’re tempted to tease him—to press light, fleeting kisses against the tip of his cock or lightly flick your tongue against it before retreating, playing dumb when he calls you on it. But the reality is that your patience is running too thin and your need is too great to invite any further delay, even though you’d likely enjoy the stern rebuke that would follow.

So instead, you wrap your hand around his thick shaft and take him into your mouth.

He exhales deeply through his nose, his head tipping back and eyes fluttering shut as his sigh turns into a groan, as though he’s just sunk into a hot bath after a long day. He leans back on one hand and the other goes to the back of your head.

“You were thinking about being a brat just a moment ago, weren’t you?” he says. “Your eyes always give you away.”

You’re not quite sure if he’s displeased or not. You look up at him, raising your eyebrows in a silent question as you work his cock.

“Your mouth is good enough that I’m going to be a little more forgiving than I would be otherwise.” He gives you a lazy smirk, eyes slightly hazy with pleasure. “But I think you’re finally learning how to be a good girl and take my orders—and you fucking love it.”

You cast your eyes back down—you still don’t like admitting to that—and he chuckles almost fondly. You take him a little deeper in your mouth, lightly squeezing his shaft, letting a little moan escape your throat.

“Can you taste yourself on me?” His voice is a little raspy. You make a noise that approximates a yes. “Yeah? You like that?”

You nod—it’s not a lie either. Something about the way that the salty sweet tang of your arousal pairs with the clean, musky taste of his cock conjures a particular flood of endorphins and serotonin, bringing still more slickness to your cunt.

“Fuck. I’m so tempted to come in your mouth.” He’s still in control, but his eyes are a little unfocused and there’s a slight hitch in his breath. “I’m going to save it for your cunt, but fuck, your mouth feels good.”

You drag your tongue along the slight indentation just below the tip of his cock and he inhales sharply, brows drawing together. You gently massage your tongue against that spot, occasionally alternating with sucking hard on the tip.

“Oh, you are such a fucking tease,” he bites out between groans, his hand firm on the back of your head. But he doesn’t push you off until a minute later, when his control of his composure is truly starting to fray.

“Up.” He tugs you to your feet and pulls you back into his lap, making sure your legs are spread wide across his thighs. He slides his fingers between your folds, his eyes gleaming with raw greed. “You liked sucking me off. You’re even wetter than before—your pussy’s practically drooling.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I like making you feel good, sir.”

“Yeah?” His thumb glides up to lightly graze your clit while his index finger traces your entrance. “Should I make you feel good, too?”

You nod. “Please, sir.”

He slowly sinks his index finger inside you and you let out a low, wanton moan.

“Oh, you’re tight, love.” His voice is so soft, a sharp contrast to the noise you just made. His finger curls, rubbing against that soft aching spot inside you. “You really think your snug little pussy can take my big cock?”

You shiver, the muscles of your cunt tightening and flexing around his finger. “Please, sir. I fucking need it so bad. I need you to fuck me with your big, thick cock.”

He kisses you, his mouth soft and slow, almost sweet. He draws back, his forehead resting against yours. “Are you ready to come?” he murmurs, the softness of his voice belied by the fire in his eyes.

“Oh god, yes.” Your answer comes before you can even think about it. “Please, sir, I’m so fucking ready.”

“Yeah? You want me to take care of your needy cunt?”

You nod. “Yes, sir. Please. I’ve been so good for you.”

He hums. “You have been a very good girl for me. Taking my orders, sucking my cock.” His gaze is thoughtful, assessing—and still darkly hungry. “This is what I want: I want to make you come and I want you to scream for me. I want everyone to know who’s making you feel so good. I want them all to know who this sweet pussy belongs to, whose cock is ruining you for everyone else.”

You are desperate enough to agree to a lot, but this is exactly what you hoped he’d say. “Yes, sir.”

His eyes darken. “You keep calling me sir for now, but I want you to use my name when you come.”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

He presses a soft kiss against your lips. “Lie back on the bed.”

You climb on the bed and lie back as he settles himself between your legs, bringing your thighs over his shoulders. His thumbs spread you open, eyes gleaming with raw greed. You take a deep shuddering breath, biting back yet another embarrassing whine.

He leans in, inhaling deeply. “I have been absolutely dying for a taste of this pussy.”

Your legs are shaking. His mouth is so close that you can feel the heat of his breath.

“The moment we met, I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied until I made you come in my mouth.”

The tip of his tongue ghosts against your clit. It’s brief—barely a tap, not anywhere enough to provide anything resembling relief. Before you can do anything, he retreats.

He looks up at you, eyes dark and hungry. “Just as sweet as I thought. Sweeter, even.”

“Please,” you breathe.

The tip of his tongue grazes your clit again and withdraws.

You whimper. “James.”

This seems to move the needle. He sucks in a sharp breath and then the heat of his mouth is enveloping your aching clit.

His strategy before was to tease, to withhold; now, though, it’s as though he’s trying to make up for lost time. His tongue doesn’t leave your clit, tracing brisk circles that leave you gasping. He slides a finger inside you, curling and stroking until your hips lift to meet him, until you’re wet enough to take a second one. His fingers are as clever as his tongue, quickly finding the right pace and curling and stroking in just the right way. If he told you he’d spent the last several years studying the exact way to get you off, you would believe him because that’s how attuned he is to your needs. No movement is wasted, every choice is deliberate, considered. You thought that being ruined for others was something of an exaggeration, but you can feel it starting to become your reality as he unwinds all the tension and teasing to what is sure to be a truly spectacular end.

“James.” His name falls from your lips without thought. He looks up at you, eyes blazing with want. You gasp, the tension in your hips tightening to that final point, your cunt desperately squeezing his fingers as your clit thrums in his mouth. “James, I’m gonna—”

The rest of your sentence is lost to the onslaught of your orgasm. The noise you make is so rough and primal that you would be embarrassed had you not completely abandoned your capacity to feel shame when you started calling him sir and begging for his cock. His tongue on your clit has set off a fountain of fizzing sparks that are only egged on by the way your cunt clenches around his thrusting fingers. Conrad groans into your cunt like this is just as enjoyable for him as it is for you, his pace and attention never faltering for a moment, as though his primary purpose is to devour and worship. Your back arches and you moan, your hands gripping the bedsheets and then his hair as you lose yourself to days of pent up energy.

He doesn’t stop, though, his mouth still massaging your clit and his fingers curling and stroking inside you. A third finger squeezes inside you and you moan at the stretch, feeling like it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. But soon enough, the waves of feeling that you thought had dispersed are gathering again, thrall to the tidal push and pull of his tongue and fingers. You cry out, back arching as you come again, harder than before, body quaking, cunt dripping, hands gripping his hair like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

He lets you come down fully this time, crawling up your body to kiss you once you catch your breath. “You taste so fucking sweet when you come.” His voice is a growl against your lips.

You wrap your legs around his waist, desperately grinding yourself against him. “Need you. Please.”

That cocky smirk is back. “You just came twice and you still want my cock?”

There’s no point in even trying to pretend otherwise. “I need your cock. I need you to fuck me, I want you to claim me.”

“Yeah?” He shifts his weight slightly, reaching between you and rubbing the head of his cock in a slow circle on your clit. “You think you’re ready for my cock?”

“I need it.”

With agonizing slowness, he drags his cock down to your entrance. He presses ever so gently against you, just enough to make you feel how thick he is. “That enough for you, sweetheart?”

You shake your head vehemently. “I want you to fill me up and fuck me.”

“Fill you up and fuck you, hm?” He eases the tip of his cock inside you. “Like that?”

You shiver. “More.”

He inches forward. “Is this enough?” His smile is wicked.

“James, please.”

He chuckles, but he concedes at last. It’s a long, toe curling thrust before he bottoms out inside you, a tight fit that knocks the breath from your lungs in the most delicious way while the muscles of your cunt tighten and tremble around him.

Conrad groans deep and low, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fucking hell, you are tight, love.”

You are close to completely blissed out, but not so much that you miss this opportunity: “I’ll be even tighter if you make me come again.”

He smirks and rolls his hips once, nearly ungluing you as his cock seems to stroke every aching place inside of you. “If I make you come again? Sweetheart, we haven’t even started and you’re a fucking mess—I’m more concerned that you’re not going to be able to stop coming.”

You can’t resist a weak smirk, even as you’re slowly starting to unravel like he claims. “Right. So you should—oh, fuck yes—you should have no trouble meeting that challenge.”

He frowns, his expression going stern again in a way that makes you shiver. “You’re getting awfully mouthy. Am I going to have to fuck that attitude out of you?”

Despite your best efforts, desire floods your cunt and you clench around his cock. A sly, knowing smile pulls at his lips.

“You filthy girl, that’s exactly what you want, isn’t it?” He gives one gentle thrust that makes your toes curl.

You lick your lips. “What if I do?”

He smirks. “Well, that would be awfully convenient because I desperately need a mouthy slut to come on my cock until she learns her fucking lesson.” His hips snap hard against you and you moan. “You think you can do that?”

You’re utterly wrecked for him, but you can’t resist one last bit of snark: “Stop talking about it and find out.”

His smile is sharp and a little dangerous, but you love it. “You are such a fucking brat.”

You bite your lower lip and clench your muscles on his cock. “Fuck it out of me, then.”

“Oh, I’m going to.” He tries a few shallow thrusts, searching until his cock finally finds that spot inside you that makes you keen and draws a hungry smile on his lips. “That’s where you need me, hm? Right here?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, running your nails up along his back.

He works a hand between your legs, his thumb rolling over the hood of your clit, rubbing in time with each thrust of his hips.

“Oh god, James.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” His eyes are dark as he looks down at you, devouring you with his gaze. “I wish you could see how fucking good you look taking my cock like this.”

“You feel so good,” you moan. “I fucking love your cock.”

A low, pleased sound rumbles in his chest. “What do you love about my cock?”

“It’s so big. And thick.” You gasp, clenching as he thrusts into you. “And you know how to fuck me just right.”

“Mmm. This is what you needed, isn’t it? Someone who knows exactly how to take care of your needy little cunt and turn you into a good girl.”

You nod, your lips parting as he keeps hitting that spot inside you.

“You love this, don’t you? You love being my obedient little slut and letting me claim your dripping pussy with my big hard cock.”

You shudder. “Oh fuck.”

His eyes turn steely. “I asked you a question.”

Still more slickness rushes to your cunt. “Yes, I fucking love this, I love being your slut, I love it so much, god, I wanna come so bad.”

You’re close to coming, your cunt already starting to clench on his cock. Conrad’s fingers leave your clit and before you can complain, he’s guiding your hand to replace his. Your fingers automatically fall into a brisk rhythm, as he braces both arms on either side of you, trading his leisurely pace for steadier, firmer thrusts.

“Yeah, that’s what you needed,” he rasps as you moan. “Just a little more, just a little harder.”

“James.” Words are slightly beyond you now, but his name burns bright in your mind and on your lips.

“You gonna come on my cock, gorgeous?”

You nod and work your clit a little faster. You’re so close and he feels so good.

“Do you want to be a good girl for me?”

You nod, a simple yes far beyond you right now.

“Then let me feel you come hard.”

It’s the final push that you need and you cry out as your fingers and his cock tip you headfirst into a toe curling orgasm.

“Good girl,” he purrs as you shake in his arms, your fingernails digging into his shoulders. “Christ, you feel too fucking good when you come. Your tight little pussy gets even tighter.”

“Keep going,” you gasp. “Keep going, please.”

“Oh, I’m not going to stop until I get my fill,” he murmurs. “Though you’re so fucking tight, I don’t even know if there will be room for my come.”

He has one of the filthiest mouths you’ve ever heard and it’s doing things to your body that you’ve never experienced before.

“You love it when I talk to you like this, don’t you?” he drawls with a bit of a smirk. “Every time I say something filthy to you, I feel you clench on my cock.” His eyes get darker and you know he’s about to up the ante. “But I noticed that I tend to get the strongest reactions when I call you my good girl…”

You would like to be able to deny this, but it’s unmistakable: your cunt clamps down hard on his cock.

He grins. “Or when I call you my slut.”

Your cunt clenches again and he smirks.

“So which is it, do you think?” His hips thrust just a little harder. “Do you want to be my good girl or my slut?”

“Both,” you breathe. Your brow furrows and your lips part—he’s hitting that tender spot inside you and you feel yourself starting to tense in a very telling way. “Oh god, James.”

“Oh yes, you’re about to come again, you filthy girl.” He says this confidently and increases his pace just slightly. “You really are a slut, aren’t you? You just can’t get enough of my cock.”

You have rapidly ascended to the point where you can only manage an affirmative whimper and not actual words.

Conrad smiles. “Now be a good girl and make a mess on my cock like a perfect little slut.”

You arch, fingernails digging into his back and a sharp cry falling from your lips as you come for him, your whole body shaking with effort.

“Fucking hell.” He’s slowed his pace slightly, waiting for you to catch your breath before rolling the two of you over so he lies on his back. “Go on,” he says, his gaze dragging appreciatively over your body, “ride my cock and give me a little show.”

“Yes, sir.” You roll your hips, searching out that angle he’d been teasing you with earlier. You begin to ride him as you find it, letting out a low moan as you tilt your head back. You’re in that heady space where it’s easy to keep coming with the right stimulation and Conrad’s cock and filthy mouth are insanely well suited to that purpose.

“Good girl.” His voice is a low rasp. “You gonna come on my cock again?”

You nod and guide his hand to your clit. “Help me out.”

“You’re getting bold.” He smirks, but his fingers start working your clit. You roll your hips and arch your back, running your hands down your thighs all the way up to cup your breasts.

Conrad is rapt as he watches you ride him, his fingers still working your clit. “I wish you could see how fucking beautiful you are right now. Absolutely stunning.”

You whimper, rocking your hips just a little faster. You squeeze your nipples, plucking at the sensitive skin.

“Oh, that’s it, take what you need. Your needy cunt needs relief, doesn’t it? You’ve been such a good girl tonight and good girls get to come on my cock as much as they can.”

You shudder, your cunt clenching hard on his cock.

“I think my cock was made for your pussy. You feel so fucking good.” He groans, his hips rocking up into you. “I’m not gonna be able to hold off when you come this time. The minute I feel you start to come, I’m gonna come inside you.”

“Yes.” You’re shaking now, brow furrowing as you feel your orgasm rise inside you. “Oh, god, yes.”

“Oh, you’re fucking close.” His fingers press more firmly on your clit. “Come for me, gorgeous, come on my cock so I can fill you up.”

With his words, your orgasm blossoms in your belly, your cunt clenching hard on his cock. Conrad groans, his eyes fluttering shut as you ride him.

“Oh fuck, that’s good.” His hips drive up into you a little harder as he starts chasing his own high.

You lean down, pressing your chest against his as you keep riding the pulsing waves of pleasure. He grabs your ass with both hands and presses his feet flat against the mattress, giving him enough leverage to thrust up into you at a wicked fast pace. You moan as his cock hits that sensitive spot inside you once again.

His jaw is tight as he fucks you hard, but his lips start to part the closer he gets.

“Come for me,” you murmur. “I’ve wanted this for days. Let me see you come.” You lower your voice further. “I want you to claim me, James. Fill me up and make me yours.”

“Fuck. Yes—fuck, fuck, fu—” His words give way to a gasp and then a low groan that sounds like pure bliss as he spills inside you.

His hips roll against you for a while as he rides out his orgasm, his whole body shuddering with pleasure. “That’s so fucking good,” he murmurs, his words slurring just slightly as his hips begin to slow. “Fuck, I needed that.”

You intend to sit up, to give him a little space, but instead, he pulls you into a deep and slow kiss, one that surprises you with its tenderness. His cock throbs inside you still, but you don’t mind the closeness. He strokes his hand up your spine and back down and you’re tempted to purr like a cat.

His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw to your ear and then your neck.

It’s like this for a while—soft searching kisses, his large hands caressing your bare skin, your hands tracing the sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw. He’s the first to get up, stumbling to the bathroom for a damp washcloth, cleaning the two of you up with a tenderness you don’t quite expect.

He returns to bed a few minutes later and you both lie there, face-to-face. It’s quiet for a few moments as you both consider the weight of what you’ve just done and what it means going forward.

Anxiety settles in the pit of your stomach as you stare at his face. You know what you want; you just don’t know whether it’s in reach.

Conrad is the first to speak.

“In hindsight,” he says, propping his head up with his hand, “we probably should have just done that to begin with.”

A relieved, breathy laugh tumbles from your lips. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

His eyebrows lift and his face falls into an expression of playful surprise. “Did you just voluntarily admit that I’m right?”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “Oh spare me.”

“No, I mean, I thought my cock was good, but not on the order of performing miracles—”

You swat at him. “You’re making me sound far more unreasonable than I am.”

He grins and loops an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Mmm, I suppose I might have exaggerated slightly.”

“A little more than slightly.”

He shrugs and gives you another easy smile. “If you want to get technical.”

You look up at him, your heart beating fast. His eyes look particularly blue in this light—almost aquamarine. He examines your face carefully, one hand tracing the line of your jaw.

“So is this a truce or do you still hate me?” You don’t plan to ask this question until you find yourself saying it out loud.

Conrad frowns, a flicker of confusion lighting up his eyes. “I never hated you.”

You raise your eyebrows at him.

“I found you extremely frustrating,” he says, still tracing his finger along your cheek. “A bit stubborn and hard-headed. Wildly attractive to an inconvenient and distracting degree. But I never hated you.”

Your stomach flips. “I suppose I should also confess that I didn’t hate you either.”

“Not even a little?” His expression is gently teasing and it warms you in a way that you don’t expect.

“I mean, you could be a little bit of a jerk,” you say. “And you pissed me off a lot. But mostly, I was just thinking about how much I wanted to fuck you.”

“Well,” he says, his fingertips still stroking your cheek, “I’m glad we got that sorted.”

“Me too.”

There’s a comfortable, easy silence. You feel sated and pleasantly sleepy.

“So,” says Conrad, “do you think I might take you out to dinner once this is all over?”

You offer him a slow smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good.” He traces his finger along your neck and down to your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “I suppose until then we’re just going to have to use this time to work out the remainder of our sexual frustration.”

You smile, even as your stomach flips. “I mean, there’s quite a lot to work out.”

“It may take months,” he says solemnly and you laugh.

There’s another comfortable beat of quiet.

He clears his throat. “I’m, ah, not always quite so stern during sex.” There’s a faint flush to his cheeks and you can’t help but find it endearing.

“I mean…I really liked it,” you say, your cheeks burning just a little. “I’m fine mixing it up a bit from time to time, but I also don’t have any issue with how you were tonight.” You give him a wry smirk. “I might not always be quite as cooperative, though.”

His gaze darkens just slightly. “Then I’ll just have to come up with some appropriate punishments, won’t I?”

You lick your lips. “Yes, sir.”

He smiles and pulls you flush against him. Somehow, you don’t think you’ll be getting much sleep tonight.

#james conrad smut #james conrad x reader #james conrad x reader smut #james conrad x female reader #james conrad x female reader smut #james conrad reader fanfic

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vshiftsss · 2 days ago

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DREBOURNE, THE KINGDOM OF DREAMS - (ROYALTY DR)

LET’S SET THE SCENE. . .

you are a weary traveler, your shoulders heavy with fatigue while your horse trudges along a dirt road. with how badly your eyes want to close, you can only hope to find some semblance of a resting place for the night. this journey you’re on to finally find the kingdom of dreams, the place where all your desires come true in a snap—it wasn’t easy. with steep mountains framing the outskirts of the land and paths so windy one could easily end right back where they started, it’s clear whoever founded this city didn’t want it to be discovered.

it would be naïve to put everyone’s dreams come true in the open, wouldn’t it?

drebourne is only meant to be found if you are meant to be there. and as your horse reaches the end of the dry soil leading you forward, you realize that you’re one of the chosen. the pristine cobblestone roads and ethereal landscape sitting before you beckon you in, welcoming you into a kingdom that seemed nearly unreal.

this is drebourne, and you’re about to have the best time of your life here.

it’s a shame the joy will be short-lived.

a certain newsletter aims to tear down every idea of serenity the kingdom holds—and they’re starting with the royal family. the people who built this kingdom from the very earth your steed stands on.

all you can really do is wait and see what happens. maybe you’ll get a kick out of some of the gossip that’ll come about…

VESTELE CHARBONNEAU. . .

the last thing vestele expects to see on her 20th birthday is a gossip column claiming she’s “mingling with the rival kingdom”. her mother brings it up over breakfast that morning, hiding prodding questions underneath the veil of chipper small talk.

of course, vestele clocks it immediately. her mother isn’t known for being subtle, after all.

“please. show me this newsletter. if this is some sort of joke, you did a horrible job of entertaining me, mother.”

in big, bold letters, the title of today’s segment read:

“charbonneau heir fraternizing with the enemy? princess vestele caught locking lips with prince cassius of the windermere family”

when she first glances down at the slim slip of paper, she almost laughs at the absurdity of the baseless claim. who would even dare to tarnish the charbonneau name like that, especially when vestele will be inheriting the crown in only a few years? it’s a bold move—a move one would only take when their identity isn’t known.

“mother, how can you believe something so…juvenile? i wouldn’t step near that prince if the crown depended on it, and you know this. i’ll speak with the head of security to figure out if we can resolve this issue.”

vestele’s calm expression doesn’t falter, though her fingertips crease the paper from how tight she’s gripping onto it. she shouldn’t be perturbed; this is just some failing journalist trying to get a juicy headline at the end of the day. no one is going to genuinely believe it.

except her mother did believe it for a minute. as if vestele would do something so…rash. so careless. so unbecoming.

she can’t believe this. what will the public think?

who is behind this newsletter?

and how the hell did they find out about her secret lover?

divider / divider

#if this is bad shhh i’m in the midst of a writer’s block #vshiftsss #shiftblr #reality shifting #shifting blog #shifting realities #shifting #shifting antis dni #shifting community #shiftingrealities #shifters #royalty dr #dr s/o

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somehowukook · 18 hours ago

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(On going) Jungkook fics that totally worth the wait. PT. 2. *:･ﾟ✧

I decided to share some ongoing FFs that I’m completely obsessed with. This is the second part.

Minors under no circumstances can interact with my posts.

Hey guys, 💞

Now I’m back with fic recommendations that are absolutely worth following in real-time.

Also, I’m planning to release a teaser of my own fanfic next week, and this is a way for us to get to know each other better until then!

Without further ado…

Let’s go!

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Dextrocardia by @jeonstudios

cop!jk x f detective!reader, undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, [a] [f] [s]

“She’s been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you’ll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this.”

“What?!” It’s Jeongguk’s upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

One of the best plots, one of the best themes, and one of the best reading experiences I’ve ever had. Smart, essential, and full of layers—that’s the tone of this story. There was one chapter where I just couldn’t stop pacing back and forth around the house while reading. Dextrocardia is nearing its end, and I’m going to miss it so much! @jeonstudios is one of my favorite authors and has already written stories that rank in my all-time top favorites. It’s worth reading EVERYTHING! Her Patreon is worth every cent!

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Bad Decisions by @alphabetboyluver

Smut, fluff, a lil angst, bartender!jk, student!jk, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers (?), fwb, deal arrangement, undefined relationship (they’re just friends! just besties!!), miscommunication, idiots in love, emotional slow burn, bucket list (a.k.a. the birds)

It’s simple: write your deepest, darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on Jungkook’s ceiling. When they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap Daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. Set it free.

The issue? You have a fear of intimacy.

Jungkook, a fear of rejection.

And you both have the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions.

I LOVE BD. I LOVE HOW THIS JK THINKS HE’LL DIE IF HIS CARNAL DESIRES AREN’T MET. He is the personification of my perfect man—everything he does is incredible, and I swear, I can’t even explain how BD is worth it. I LOVE HOW THE OC IS SO HEADSTRONG AND HOW I LEARNED SO MUCH ABOUT SELF-LOVE FROM HER. Look, I discovered Holly’s writing through Throttle (complete and incredible), and I was instantly enchanted by her work. Honestly, if I had money, I’d open a publishing house just to sponsor and publish her books. If you haven’t read it yet, you’re missing out!

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死 KKANGPAE by @jungkoode

enemies to lovers, slow burn, gang au, angst with smut, fuck buddies, forbidden love, secret relationship

When you join Kkangpae’s Seduction Division, you know the rules: no attachments, no relationships, no exceptions. The consequences are fatal—you’ve seen them firsthand. But rules become complicated when the Chief of Tactical Assassinations keeps looking at you like you’re his next target, and not the kind he takes out with a sniper rifle.

Alright, I’ve already made it clear in my first fic recommendation list that Kiki is brilliant, and you probably know it by now… Besides writing and creating incredible universes and deeply layered characters with impeccable psycho-behavioral construction, she’s also an amazing and kind person—and her fanarts, help!But enough about her, or I’ll never finish… Now let’s talk about this MASTERPIECE that is KKangpae! I am completely WEAK for Jeon, and this OC? Oh God, this woman can break me, and I’d still say thank you! This slow burn (Kiki’s specialty) is so sensual, so good, and so nerve-wracking that it makes you roll on the floor in a fetal position after every episode. Just read it.

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Stuck with you by @focusonkayjay

Computer sci major/shy/nerdy!Jungkook, econ major/popular/influencer!reader, college au, roommates au, roommates to lovers, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

Jungkook’s a hopeless romantic—emphasis on hopeless more than romantic. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he swore he heard bells chiming, like the angels from above were giving him a cosmic nudge. But he’s always been the awkward, nerdy guy—the one who blends into the background—while you? You felt like a dream way out of his league. Fate, however, had other plans and now, you’re his roommate and living with you—in all your effortless glory—is equal parts chaos and heaven. The only challenge? Keeping his ever-growing feelings in check. That is—until a cocky fuckboy with not-so-pure intentions sets his sights on you, and suddenly, just loving you from the sidelines might not be enough.

I found Chers page through one of my favorite fics, Between the Ride and the Roses(which I think you should read). Since then, I’ve been following her work, and this latest release—seriously, I was so happy I read the first episode before making this recommendation list because it’s TOTALLY worth it! This socially awkward JK, with the purest heart in the world (and some self-esteem issues), will win you over in the very first description, and I just hope this precious soul doesn’t get hurt because, honestly, I’d destroy the whole world if anything bad happens to him. Seriously, he is so precious. MY SHAYLA

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Server Room by @mister0ctopus

Smut (X), Office au, Mini Series

Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

How do I say this without sounding crude? Well, I hope you don’t think I’m crazy, but the server room scene is 🔥🔥🔥🔥, and it left me wondering for wayyy too long —what if it were me???? Well, I probably wouldn’t survive this JK doing THAT while moaning my name.

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Not Ideal by @koojks

Grumpy jk, slight angst and eventual smut. SMAU + Written

Jeon Jungkook has made one thing clear: he has no interest in working with you. He barely tolerates you in the friend group as it is. But with a project on the line, avoiding each other is no longer an option.

Through a Tumblr interest recommendation, I discovered Via and got completely hooked on Not Ideal. I’m OBSESSED—I need to know why this JK is so closed off, why he keeps picking on our OC, what he does when he goes out, what he eats, why he acts so nonchalant about everything??? Baby, I need to know!!!!!

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Hope you like it! And please, let’s keep in touch—I LOVE chatting with you!

#fanfic #fanfiction #jungkook fic recs #jungkook fics #jungkook recs #jungkook romance #bts fanfiction #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fiction #bts fics #bts army #jeon jungkoooook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #fanfics

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hellfirenacht · 2 days ago

Text

Anomaly Chapter 6

Fic Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Chapter Summary: You start off your criminal career and you and Eddie talk about alignments

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, one-sided enemies to lovers, one-sided pining, miscommunication trope, anxious-ish!Reader, fem!Reader, Reader is not described, no use of y/n

Word Count: 3.9k words

Master List

This was not a good idea. Well, Stacy thought it was a good idea. You were unsure, even though it was your stupid idea.

“It’s a store. You’ve been in a store before.” Stacy sighed as you stared at the small game shop that the two of you were parked in front of.

“Yeah, but not this store.” you pointed out. “This is so stupid. Let’s just go do something else.”

“Oh no, you begged me to bring you here and so you’re going to do this. It’s a store. They sell things. You want to buy things.” She opened up her door and stepped out of the car and marched to the front of the building and waited there for you.

You had begged her, and that was the most embarrassing thing. In your euphoria of having Eddie talk to you about Dungeons and Dragons you had asked Stacy to take you to the game store in town to pick up your own copy of the game manual to learn. It seemed so simple in the heat of the moment; get the manual, learn the rules, impress Eddie by playing his game and then he falls in love with you.

And Stacy, being the good friend that she is, agreed to the plan after laughing her ass off.

You got out of the car, seeing no other choice but to commit to this plan. She held the door open for you as you both entered the store. It was small, and there was a slight musky scent to the room. There were a few guys hanging around the back, huddled over some sort of card game and you were met with some odd looks. That didn’t really surprise you though, you didn’t think that many girls came in here, especially not ones that looked like Stacy with her perfect perm and lipgloss smile.

The shopkeep looked unimpressed as you made your way to the counter.

“Makeup shop is down the street.” he said, looking back down at the comic he was reading on the counter. He had messy dishwater blond hair, and his crooked name tag read CHRIS.

Any nerves you had suddenly vanished, as now you were just pissed. What the fuck was that comment about?

“Actually, I’m here to pick up a copy of the Dungeons and Dragons manual.” you said, stepping up to the counter. The cashier didn’t move his head, but his eyes flicked up at you.

“Original or advanced?” he asked.

“Advanced.” You said confidently, not knowing the difference or that there was more than one version but advanced had to be more impressive, right?

The cashier rolled his eyes and pointed vaguely in the direction of a rack on the far wall, and you saw that Stacy was already looking at the different items. You made your way over and scanned the shelves until you found the manual for Advanced Dungeons and Dragons. There was a lot more in the section than you had thought. There were several books filled with what looked like stories about the game, but you didn’t have much to go off of what you remembered Eddie talking about. You held the manual as you scanned the other books, your eyes landing on something called The Tomb of Horrors. You picked it up and flipped through it for a moment, figuring out that it was some sort of companion to the game. Were all players supposed to have these?

“The art’s cool at least.” Stacy said, looking over your shoulder. “Lot of numbers though.”

“You literally tutor me in math, I don’t wanna hear it.” You countered.

“You won’t find any princess fairytale in that.” A voice said, and you turned to see the cashier, as well as the rest of the store staring at the two of you.

“Excuse me?” you asked.

“I’m just saying it’s a fantasy game but it’s serious business,” he said. “I’m sure if you go to another store there are games that are more your speed.”

“Excuse me?” you repeated yourself, your cheeks now burning. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look, it’s cute that you come in here all dolled up but this is a serious store so if you’re just here to look at pictures you’re gonna have to leave.”

You really didn’t like the way he was looking at Stacy, and it made your blood boil. “Dude, what the hell is your problem? I’m here to buy something, do you want my money or not?!”

One arm or not, you were fighting the urge to deck this guy in the face.

“Okay, I see we aren’t wanted here.” Stacy said quickly, pushing you towards the door. You stared at her, as she flipped her hair and gave the cashier a look that baffled you. “I’m, like, so sorry to bother you all. I was just so curious about the game my cousin was so obsessed with.”

The cashier faltered for a second, and if you weren’t so pissed you’d find it funny how quickly his brain seemed to have turned to mush.

“Well uh- if you really wanted to know about the game I’d be more than happy to teach you. Maybe set up a little one on one-”

Oh, gross. You quickly turned heel and walked out of the shop to Stacy’s car feeling all sorts of bogus feelings.

Stacy was right behind you thirty seconds later. “Car. Now.” she said, and you wasted no time getting in as she sped off before you could even put on your seatbelt.

“You owe me.” she said firmly. “What a creep! Ugh, you’re lucky you’re my best friend.”

“This was such a stupid idea.” you said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that the store would be... that.”

“Whatever, buy me a milkshake and we’ll call it even. You better have that book memorized next time you see Eddie.”

What book-

“Oh fuck, I didn’t pay for these!” you stared at the two books in your hand.

“Duh, as if I’d let you spend money in there.” Stacy said.

“Stacy!” you gasped.

“Yes?”

“The only reason my parents let me hang out with you is because they think you’re a good influence.”

“Their problem. Anyway, I actually really like the makeup store in that plaza and now I’ll have to avoid it for at least a few weeks so make it three milkshakes.”

Your little grand theft nerd book probably saved you about fifteen bucks, so yeah, you owed Stacy big time for this.

“And fries.” you agreed.

“That goes without saying.”

The weekend passed by with no further petty crime, unless you counted the backstory that you created for a thief character. You still weren’t very certain that you did all the math correctly, but you tried.

The manual was the most helpful, and you recognized terms that Eddie had used that had flown right over your head when he had talked so passionately about the game. The Tomb of Horrors was more interesting but you had a feeling that you weren’t supposed to be reading this. It was a module, something that only the Dungeon Master would use to guide the players through the game. Reading it felt like cheating, even if you weren’t in Hellfire.

It didn’t stop you from reading it all in one sitting, though.

Monday rolled around, and you had spent so much time learning a game that you had forgotten to study for your English test.

No. You didn’t forget. It was painfully in the back of your mind the whole time you were messing with paper and dice. But the louder that knowledge was, the more you focused on reading the books instead.

You did the best that you could on Ms. Benson’s test and, not wanting to be the first one to turn it in, you spent the rest of the time staring at the back of Eddie’s head like some lovelorn teenager. Which you were.

Eddie spent more time on his test than you, and you watched as he would write something, then erase, and write again. Occasionally he’d tap his pencil and stare up at the clock. You wondered if DIO was any good. Maybe if you were any kind of artist you’d been sketching the lines of his shoulders and the way he’d run his fingers through his wavy hair. You thought that his jacket and the denim vest made his form look older, more filled out maybe. It could also be that Eddie was a year older than you, and thus 2 years older than most of the seniors.

After half the class turned in their tests, you walked up to turn yours in as well. You considered ‘accidentally’ brushing against his arm as you passed him but that felt too desperate.

God, you had it bad. This felt pathetic. You didn’t give a shit about how anyone else here felt about you, but your IQ dropped into the single digits at any sight of Eddie.

You spent the rest of class re-reading the handbook under your desk, and stealing glances at Eddie who finally turned his test in about ten minutes before the bell rang.

At least he tried. The thought was just as much praise for him as a jab at yourself.

The bell rang and you got up and shoved the book in the new backpack that you had gotten permission to use to carry your books while you were still in a cast. Your wrist was twinging today, but you could ignore it for the most part.

Eddie didn’t even look at you as he left the classroom. Why would he? A small conversation last week didn’t exactly make you friends but you wanted to try.

In the time between arriving at school, and taking Benson’s test, Eddie had managed to study for a solid twenty minutes, which was about twenty minutes more than he had with most tests. It was better than nothing, and at least he could tell Wayne that he had tried.

He doodled on the margins of the paper, hoping that Benson would be amused enough to maybe pass him a few bonus points. It had worked only once last year in science, but that didn’t stop him from doodling on every test since.

The rest of the day passed by without much to report, it was only when Eddie was sitting in his van, getting ready to get the hell off Hawkin’s High property that he remembered that he had to report back to his parole officer (Benson) with his fellow inmate (you) to break some rocks (call random businesses in town).

You were already in the classroom, staring at the binder with the notes you all had taken last week.

“I’m grading tests today. Use the lounge again to make calls.” Ms. Benson said, grabbing a stack of papers from her desk.

And those were all the marching orders the two of you received before making your way back to the teachers lounge. Eddie didn’t get why you two were still doing this. Last week the two of you had called pretty much everyone in the rolodex and had handed in all of the quotes given.

“Is there anyone who we didn’t call last week?” Eddie asked, grabbing two chairs and dragging them over to the phone. You were already holding the binder and rolodex one handed. He could at least pretend to be a gentleman for now.

“Some didn’t bother answering so maybe we call them again?” you suggested, plopping yourself down in the chair.

Of the seven numbers left, you got 4 to answer and only one of them left any sort of helpful information.

“Did Ms. Benson ever say how long we were supposed to be helping with this?” You asked, messing with the phone chord. The two of you were done, but neither of you had made a move to go back to the classroom.

“Few weeks. Sounded like she was going to have us single handedly take care of Spring Day.” Eddie sighed.

You stared at him blankly. Then to your cast. Then back to him. And then back to your cast.

“That’s not what I meant!” Eddie said. “Not my fault you took a nosedive off the bleachers.”

“I did not!” you protested. “I threw myself down valiantly to distract our peers from the fact that Miles shit himself.”

“You should have let him fend for himself.” Eddie said, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice.

You paused and looked at him for a moment with that same intense expression. Maybe you really were trying to study him like a bog.

“I... was going to talk to you that day.” You said, and Eddie didn’t miss a slight waver in your voice as if you were nervous. “It had nothing to do with Miles.”

Eddie couldn’t mask the shock on his face. “Me?” Why the hell were you trying to talk to him that day?

“Yeah I-” your nerves were throwing him off. He had always expected you to pick a fight with him every time the two of you made eye contact. “I made that stupid joke and you heard and I wanted to come over and apologize. Then, Miles elbowed me and I tripped and.... Yeah.”

“Really?” Eddie was usually a master of words and bullshit, but this was rendering him speechless.

“Yeah. It was a really stupid joke and you looked pissed and flipped me off and I felt bad.” You, the person who always gave him dirty looks, felt bad? And you had been trying to come to him to-

“Shit. So it’s my fault you broke your arm.” He realized. If it had been anyone else, then he probably just would have rolled his eyes that day and ignored you but he’d made a show of making sure you knew he heard you.

“Wrist. And... what the fuck are you talking about?” There was the pissed look he was used to!

“If I hadn’t flipped you off, you wouldn’t have hurt yourself.”

“If I hadn’t made a stupid comment I wouldn’t have needed to apologize!”

Seeing you so worked up about this amused Eddie greatly. He felt bad that you had broken a bone on his behalf but knowing that you had done that plus saved his ass from expulsion gave you some points in his book.

“You’re probably the one one in this hell hole to ever apologize.” He said honestly. “I doubt anyone else would have apologized and then cleared my name.”

You just stared at him for a long time, an expression on your face he found frustratingly unreadable. Your furrowed brows said that you were pissed, but your eyes... well Eddie always knew when someone was looking at him with contempt. This wasn’t it. Confusion maybe? Frustration? Maybe you were pissed that you felt bad and broke your wrist? He wasn’t going to push it, especially when you were still looking at him.

“So... should we go see Benson since we’re done with this?” he asked after you had stared at him like this for about ten seconds longer than he was comfortable with.

It’s not like there was anything else the two of you could do so you just nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Eddie grabbed the binder and rolodex and kicked his chair back to its rightful place. When the two of you left the lounge, you made a move to turn left, but he turned right, in the opposite direction.

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“Takin’ the scenic route.” Eddie didn’t even bother turning around as he kept walking.

You stood there like an idiot for a moment before jogging to catch up to him. “There’s a scenic route?”

“Yup.” Eddie said. You’d either join him and he could try and figure you out, or you’d ditch and go running to Benson. By the look on your face when she mentioned grading tests, he didn’t think you’d be in a rush back to the Warden.

Eddie led you to the end of the hallway and opened up a door that led you both outside. It was chilly out, and you wished you had grabbed your jacket from your bag but it was such a pain to put on with the cast.

You were now playing hooky with Eddie Munson. Well, shirking your semi-detention duties which was close enough.

Okay. You were alone with the guy you’d been pining for, and he was hanging out with you in a seemingly willing way. Just talk to him. Ask him a question.

“Would you rather fight a horse sized duck or a duck sized horse?” you asked. If it was a good enough ice breaker for Stacy, it’s good enough for Eddie. Hopefully.

“Duck sized horse.” Eddie said instantly, looking at you. “Every time.”

If he thought the question was stupid, he hid it well.

“Explain yourself.” you said.

“A horse sized duck would be too powerful.” Eddie explained, leading you past the football field and into the woods. “Ducks are made of evil and hatred, and I’d rather punt a small horse than deal with that.”

Okay, so that was an answer you were not expecting. “Ducks are evil...?” you asked.

“Oh, very evil.” Eddie said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“....Chaotic, lawful, or neutral?”

Eddie stopped walking to stare at you with wide eyes, and you felt your face heat up painfully even in the cool air.

“Neutral.” Eddie finally said. “I’m sure there’s some duck code that I haven’t cracked, but as far as I’m concerned they’re all the same base evil across the board.”

“I think geese would be chaotic evil.” you offered as the two of you started walking again into the woods. “I had one that would randomly attack me in my old neighborhood every time I walked down the street.”

“Most waterfowl are some flavor of evil.”

“Maybe swans are lawful?”

The two of you sat on an old abandoned picnic table, and Eddie lit up a cigarette.

“So, you were paying attention to my little lecture last week.” he blew the smoke away from you as he exhaled. “I figured that you would have forgotten anything I said by now.”

How could you? You’ve been replaying that moment in your mind over and over all weekend. Not that you could tell him that.

“It was interesting.” That was putting it mildly. “It sounds like a lot of fun, honestly.”

Take the hint take the hint take the hint take the hint-

“I love it. We’re close to wrapping up this campaign, too. If they don’t royally fuck over my plans then everything should be wrapped up in a nice little bow by the end of the school year. It’s getting serious, and none of them are allowed to skip out on Hellfire unless they are actively dying.”

The hint flew right past him, running off into the woods while carrying your hopes and dreams. Of course, trying to join this late in the year with only a few weeks left of school would be impossible. It would be like trying to join the basketball team right before the championship game.

“You really take it seriously.” you looked over at him, taking in his profile as he took another drag of his cigarette.

“As serious as the plague.” He exhaled. “It’s the only thing that keeps me coming back to school most days. Well, that and I promised my uncle I’d graduate.”

“Your uncle...?”

“Yeah, I live with him.”

You wanted to ask more, but this was the first time the two of you had really had a conversation. Would it be weird to ask more?

“Where do you guys live?” Nope, that was too weird and personal to ask but you did anyway.

“Forest Hills.”

He didn’t say it was the trailer park, but he didn’t need to. The answers were short, and you could take the hint he didn’t want to talk about his personal life. You’d take any scrap he’d throw at you.

“Have you always been the Dungeon Master?”

And off he went again, his eyes lighting up as he regaled you with the rise of Hellfire. How his best friend Ronnie had dragged him to this weird club at someone’s house and he had been hooked ever since. When the original DM left, Eddie took over. His first campaign had been clunky, but the more he dove into this world he created the better it got.

The more Eddie talked about the game, the worse your attraction to him got, and the more you mourned any opportunity to be part of his world. Your feelings for him aside, it really did sound like a lot of fun.

The bell rang far too soon and you and Eddie booked it back to Ms. Benson’s class. You handed over the notes and information you gathered and she dismissed you both with a waive of her hand.

“I guess I’ll see you Wednesday.” you said as the two of you made your way to the front of the school.

“Tomorrow.” he corrected. “Unless you plan on Benson’s class tomorrow.”

“It’s tempting.” You wonder how quickly that failed test would get back to you.

The two of you passed a group of cheerleaders who were giving Eddie dirty looks before they really noticed you next to him. Two of them- Chrissy and Emma- smiled and waved at you. You gave a smile and waved back, hoping that they took it as a sign that Eddie was more than welcome to be walking next to you.

“You’re friends with everyone, huh?” Eddie asked when they were out of earshot.

“Not really?” His question was confusing. Other than Stacy, he was the only other person who you had any consistent alone time with, and that was because he was being forced to. “I talk with some of them sometimes but we’ve never hung out. I think I just don’t offend them.”

“I didn’t think you were the cheer type.” Eddie waved his hands as if waving imaginary pompoms and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nah, I’ve never been in with any cheer squad, unless you count the Field Day in elementary school. I twisted my ankle and was given some fake pompoms to wave while all the other kids played.”

“Oh, so hurting yourself during sport themed activities is a hobby of yours?” Eddie asked. “There are easier and less painful ways to skip gym.”

“Oh, now you tell me!” you feigned shock. “I wish you had told me earlier.”

“Happy to be of service.” he bowed dramatically.

Outside, you spotted Stacy standing by her car and chatting with a boy. Fresh meat. You thought to yourself.

“It’s probably because you’re friends with her.” Eddie said, looking over at Stacy.

“Huh?”

“I mean, she was on the team before. If one of those girls likes you, then the rest will at least tolerate you.”

“...Stacy was a cheerleader?” you snapped your head at him. That would explain so much, but why didn’t you know this?

“You didn’t know?”

“I guess not.”

“HEY! YOU NEED A RIDE OR WHAT?!” Stacy yelled from across the parking lot. The guy she was chatting with was gone and she was waving her arms. You mentally added pompoms to her hands and suppressed a laugh.

“I guess that’s my cue.” you said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“If I don’t skip.” he winked at you and headed towards his van, so casually, as if he didn’t just make your little heart explode and your knees weak.

For the first time ever, you were actually looking forward to school the next day.

Author Notes: Sometimes I worry that Reader and Stacy have more chemistry. Oh well. Also I had to re-write half of this fic because my dumb ass went from Eddie POV to Reader's.

Tag List:

@eddiemunsonfuxks @kirsteng42 @strangereads @pedroschka @generoustrashpeach

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @cyanfairywren @crocworkships @tomtomslongdong @aphrogeneias

@ghcstpyre @totheforestandtheocean @stevekeeryswife @dreamyyy222222 @ajnerdess

@sp1dyb0y1008 @projectcampbell @emxxblog @thebadbatchfan

@transparentenemypenguin @ghoulsgraveyard @spread-the-hope @exploding-bonbon @paleidiot

@2spock @c14r3v1b3srs @yujyujj @saramelaniemoon @morganlolitta

@veemoon @mrsrdlw @eddieheart @bambibiest @mylovelycrazyworld

@sassidykassidy @cultish-corner @thedoubleexposurephotography @bambibiest @wheels-of-despair

@amieinghigh @hazydespair @princesssunderworld

#nacht fic #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

81 notes · View notes

melshifting · 14 hours ago

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Shifting tarot reading ～ #02

❝ What does your S/O think about you? ❞

little disclaimer before starting: remember that this is for a diverse collective, so take what resonates and leave what doesn't! don't force messages that aren't meant to be ^^

Choose an image below! ⤸

🫧 | For my pile one...

Hmmm... its giving mixed signals and a SLOW burn. This person has contradictory emotions or difficulties in expressing what he/she really feels BUT they definitely feel a romantic connection towards you. There are two possible scenarios: you both are good friends and this person doesn't want to ruin the friendship, or, your person has just come out of a breakup/BAD experience and is having a hard time falling in love/trusting others again. Relax babe, as I told you before: this does NOT mean that there is no attraction or interest, but that there is something inside this person that prevents him/her from opening up completely. I see them as someone afraid of rejection (or being really prideful), that's why they have a hard time being open about their feelings. What is certain is that they appreciate you, and very much, but they're still not sure how to handle this bond? The good news is that this person is in the process of solving all those doubts and fears that separate you! YAYYYY

channeled lyrics ⤸

♫ ～ "How can it be? You and me might be meant to be, can't unsee it" - Ariana Grande (The boy is mine)

♪ ～ "I summoned you, please come to me; don't bury thoughts that you really want" - Elley Duhé (Middle of the night)

♩ ～ "I hope love is perfect with just love, may all my weaknesses be hidden" - BTS (Fake Love)

🎀 | For my pile two...

they are HEAD over heels for you, oh my… makes me think it was most likely love at first sight (awwww). Your person feels a special connection, even if they haven't expressed it openly or they try to downplay it. They may, in your presence, feel that electricity in the air, that little tingle yknow. But, they also feel kinda disconnected from you..? Like there's some kind of barrier that distances you both, either literally or not - is this an enemies to lovers trope? Maybe, deep down, they see you as someone who is somehow different or hard to reach; like an impossible type of love. This is why, at this moment, they don't know how to approach you - they could be acting erratically or sending mixed signals, because deep down they're not clear which way to go... They've never felt this way about anyone before, something so deep and genuine (so you're their first love huh?), which explains the confusing signals.

channeled lyrics ⤸

♫ ～ "Boy, why you so obsessed with me?" - Mariah Carey (Obsessed)

♪ ～ "I shouldn't have fallen in love, look what it made me become" - Chris Grey (Let the world burn)

💌 | For my pile three...

I'm hearing the part of this one song that says ' and I only have eyes for youuuuu', so you can assume that they're obsessed with you lmao. Not only do they like your personality and character, but they are almost fixated on your body and physical beauty. WOAH, this person has been looking for you between lifetimes and universes (or vice versa) - this is your SOULMATE bro im telling you. You may have met at a time when one of you was going through a significant emotional or spiritual crisis, or even in an unusual circumstance...? Its one of those bonds that start out explosive, as if yall already knew that you wouldn't see each other as mere 'friends'. This relationship is a big change in your lives, but a good one lol. When this person looks at you, several naughty thoughts come to mind..! so expect your days at their side to not be very ''calm''. Even if there are some possible barriers in this relationship, your person is willing to fight for the person they want to share their life with <3

channeled lyrics ⤸

♫ ～ "Think I met you in another life" - Jungkook (Seven; but the whole song in general lol)

♪ ～ "But when there's two dimensions, there's only one I'm missin'. And if you feel alone, you don't have to feel that no more" - Jungkook (3D; AGAIN, whole song in general lol)

TYSM for reading!!

#kpop shifting #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting community #shifters #shifting diary #shifttok #reality shifter #desired self #desired reality #bts shifting #shifting reality #shifting antis dni #shifting tarot

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lexi-the-demon-69 · 12 hours ago

Note

What's your opinion on beast x ancient?

No. Big fat no.

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against the folks out there who ship beast x ancient stuff. I personally think it's a very bad pairing, unless it's a redeemed beast, and even then, you're kinda stretching it.

I completely understand why the ship exists. There's a lot of potential that can be found within the pairing, like juicy angst, exploring the toxicity of the ship, or a what if where the beasts are redeemed/were never bad. I am an absolute sucker for enemies to lovers, don't get me wrong. But, to me at least, beast x ancient never came off as enemies to lovers... it felt more like shipping an abuser with their victim.

Keep in mind, I am accusing NO ONE of anything! I'm not calling the beast x ancient ship a proship. None of that. That's just how I see the beast x ancient ship. It just felt wrong to ship a beast with an ancient, considering what the beasts did/are gonna do to the ancients.

I mean, Shadow Milk psychologically tortured PV and caused him to go through an existential crisis. Mystic spread her whitewashing cooties to the dark cacao kingdom and also psychologically tortured Dark Cacao. Y'all, BURNING SPICE TURNED GOLDEN CHEESE INTO CHICKEN WINGS!!! How am I supposed to like a ship, knowing what these heartless bastards did to people who literally did nothing to them besides harness their power that they lost due to their actions???

As I've mentioned before, I hold nothing against the folks out there who ship beast x ancient. I'm personally not at all one of them.

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strawb4kdior · 2 days ago

Text

~ TIED WITH SILK ~

parings: caitlyn kiramann x fem oc (Rhea Voss)

tw: enemies to lovers, arranged marriages, political alliances

summary: Rhea Voss, a fierce and independent heir, who is forced into an arranged marriage with Caitlyn Kiramman to unite Piltover’s powerful families. What begins as a cold, political alliance quickly turns into a battle of wills as tension between them rises. As danger looms, they are forced to work together, and the line between hatred and attraction begins to blur, leaving them questioning if their bond can be something more than just duty.

a/n: i wanted to try something different so i made an oc. if this lil story gets popular i'll do a part 2 - and i might edit it later and describe Rhea more after 🫶🫶🫶 - sara

The Kiramman estate loomed like a castle in the clouds, its iron gates glinting in the sun. A towering structure of polished stone and glass, it stood as a testament to wealth and power. The cherry blossoms lining the driveway danced lightly in the breeze, petals cascading like confetti, but all Rhea could focus on was the knot tightening in her stomach.

“Do you think she’ll like me?” Rhea asked, her voice trembling slightly as she brushed her fingers against the delicate fabric of her gown.

“Like you? Or tolerate you?” her friend Iris replied, leaning against the carriage wall with an amused smirk. “That’s the real question.”

“Come on! Be nice.” Rhea rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the nervous laugh that escaped. “This is a big deal!”

“Sure, sure. But remember, you’re walking into the lion’s den. Caitlyn Kiramman doesn’t do pleasantries.” Iris raised an eyebrow, her tone mockingly serious. “You might want to prep your best ‘please don’t shoot me’ face.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Rhea’s fingers tugged at the hem of her dress. “I just hope she’s not as cold as everyone says.”

“Cold? That’s an understatement.” Iris’s voice dipped conspiratorially. “They say the Kirammans have ice in their veins.”

“Great. Just what I need—a bride who’s a literal glacier.” Rhea sighed, staring out at the sprawling estate. “But I suppose that's better than marrying someone who wants to burn the city down.”

“True. Though, one might argue that she’d be better company than a woman whose only talent is setting fire to things. You might even like her.” Iris nudged Rhea’s shoulder playfully. “You know, when she’s not trying to crush your spirit.”

A laugh bubbled up again, easing the tension. “Thanks for the pep talk, Iris.”

The carriage rolled to a stop, and the driver’s muffled voice echoed through the door. “We’ve arrived, miss.”

Rhea’s heart raced as she stepped down onto the cobblestone path. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers, but all she could smell was anxiety.

“Deep breaths,” Iris whispered, nudging her forward.

Rhea squared her shoulders and approached the grand entrance. The door swung open before she could knock, revealing a tall woman with striking blue eyes and deep navy hair, dressed in a fitted uniform that screamed authority. Caitlyn Kiramman stood poised, a statue of elegance against the opulence of her surroundings.

“Rhea,” Caitlyn said, her voice smooth yet edged with a hint of frost, “welcome to my home.”

“Thank you for having me,” Rhea replied, her voice wavering slightly. She stepped inside, the sound of her heels echoing against the marble floor.

“Quite a place you have,” Rhea continued, trying to fill the silence as she took in the grand foyer, adorned with elaborate chandeliers and intricate tapestries.

“It serves its purpose.” Caitlyn’s gaze was unreadable, her posture relaxed but with a tension that hinted at a mind always at work.

“Are you always this… busy?” Rhea ventured, trying to gauge the woman in front of her, but Caitlyn’s expression remained inscrutable.

“Busy is one way to put it.” Caitlyn motioned for Rhea to follow her deeper into the estate. “I have responsibilities to uphold, decisions to make.”

“Like marrying me?” Rhea quipped, attempting to lighten the mood. A smile flickered on Caitlyn’s lips, sharp and fleeting.

“More like marrying the Kirammans into a stronger alliance.”

Rhea’s stomach twisted again. “So, it’s just business then?”

“It’s always business.” Caitlyn turned, her eyes narrowing slightly. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t make it… pleasant.”

“Pleasant?” Rhea repeated, her brow furrowing. “Is that what you call this?”

Caitlyn paused, her blue eyes piercing through Rhea. “What do you call it?”

“Terrifying,” Rhea admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m terrified.”

Caitlyn studied her for a moment, then a hint of something softer crossed her features. “Fear can be useful. It keeps you alert.”

“Or it makes you paralyzed,” Rhea shot back, surprising herself with her boldness. “Which is where I feel I’m heading right now.”

“Then let’s not be paralyzed.” Caitlyn stepped closer, her presence overwhelming yet oddly comforting. “What do you want, Rhea?”

“I want…” Rhea hesitated, the weight of the question hanging in the air. “I want to understand you.”

“Understanding is a luxury.” Caitlyn’s voice was low, almost contemplative. “Especially in our world.”

“Then how do we survive?” Rhea pressed, her heart racing. “How do we make this work?”

“By facing the truth.” Caitlyn’s gaze hardened again, the icy walls returning. “You’ll either adapt, or you’ll drown.”

“Is that what you think will happen to me? That I’ll drown?”

“Not if you’re smart.” Caitlyn turned away, glancing out a grand window, her expression distant. “You’ll learn to navigate these waters. Or you won’t last long.”

Rhea swallowed hard, a mix of determination and fear swirling within her. “I refuse to drown.”

Caitlyn glanced back, a hint of surprise flickering in her eyes. “Then let’s see if you can swim.”

Rhea took a step forward, feeling the weight of their expectations. “I don’t want to just survive, Caitlyn. I want to thrive.”

“Then thrive.” Caitlyn crossed her arms, a challenge brewing in her tone. “But know this: I will not hold your hand.”

“Good. I don’t need a babysitter,” Rhea shot back, her confidence surging. “But I do need a partner.”

“Partners are built on trust.” Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed, her voice steady. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t even know you.” Rhea’s heart raced, the stakes climbing higher.

“Then let’s start there.” Caitlyn stepped closer, their faces inches apart. “What will it take for you to trust me?”

“Honesty.” Rhea held her gaze, unwavering. “And maybe a bit of warmth.”

“Warmth isn’t something I’m known for.” Caitlyn’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. “But I can be honest.”

“Then let’s begin.” Rhea breathed in, feeling the tension shift. “Tell me your truth.”

Caitlyn hesitated, her expression shifting, searching for the right words. “I am not here to play games, Rhea. My family is counting on me to uphold our legacy. This marriage is not just a union; it’s a political maneuver.”

“Then let’s make it more than just politics,” Rhea suggested, her heart pounding. “Let’s make it real.”

Caitlyn’s eyes flashed with intrigue, a spark igniting between them. “Real? You’re a bold one.”

“Only when I need to be.” Rhea smiled, a warmth blooming in her chest.

“Then let’s see what happens.” Caitlyn stepped back, her demeanor shifting slightly. “Welcome to the Kiramman estate, Rhea. I hope you find it… enlightening.”

“Enlightening,” Rhea echoed, determination coursing through her veins. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”

As they stood in the opulent entryway, the air crackling with unspoken tension, both women knew that this was just the beginning. The stakes were high, and the path ahead was uncertain, but in that moment, they were ready to face whatever came next—together.

#wlw #arcane #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn kiramman #caitlynxfemoc #femoc #lesbian #league of legends caitlyn

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bg3daydream · 1 day ago

Text

Not like the tales (Davrin x Rook Fanfiction) Chapter 2

Davrin x female Rook Thorne

Summary: Canon divergence, Rook is already a grey warden when Davrin joins, and she's put in charge of his joining and his first weeks as a recruit and junior warden. Their relationship developes into more than just partner wardens, despite Rook's best efforts, since she knows that the life of a warden is a life of loss. Rook is a Dalish mage (I made a poll and that's the option that won).

Tags: Romance, friends to lovers, hiden feelings, slow burn, fluff, angst, hurt/emotional hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence and blood, eventual smut, canon divergence, eventual happy ending.

Chapter 1 / Masterlist of my fics / AO3

Rook didn’t take Davrin to the training grounds, instead, she led him up to the tower where she spent her time when she was not training or trying to find darkspawn.

She sat in the now familiar window seat, watching Davrin as he looked through the window, nodding to himself. “This’s a nice place to protect this outpost. With a good bow, you can kill a big chunk of enemies before they reach the building.” He looked at her. “That’s what you do? Your role here?

“Pff…nah. I’m here most of the time but there’s no need to take watch, I don’t think anything has threatened this place for longer than I’ve been a warden.”

Davrin stepped away from the window and looked at her. “What do you do here, then?”

“At the outpost or at the tower?” Rook replied evasively.

“Both?”

“At the outpost, I was ordered here a couple of weeks ago.” She didn’t elaborate. “At the tower…I like looking through the window.” She shrugged, glancing through it and to the forest.

She noticed Davrin smiling as he looked at her and wondered if she'd been too honest. She’d totally lost her mask of a formal, serious warden, hadn’t she? Perhaps she’d never managed to wear it. “You say all Dalish do is wander the forest and that you were tired of it…but I miss it.”

“Rook…Warden Thorne,” Davrin corrected himself, and when she looked at him to tell him he could just call her Rook, he was looking at her with such softness in his eyes, that she feared she might cry. “I’m really sorry for what happened to you and your clan. I might have left mine, but I’m still Dalish, and I can’t imagine anything worse than what you went through.”

“Thank you.” Rook swallowed hard and got up, eager to think on something else. “You wanted to see the training grounds, let’s go.”

“Wait…you didn’t tell me why they sent you here where you say there’s nothing for a warden to do,” Davrin reminded her and she shot him a wary look, she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about that with him. Davrin shrugged. “I’m just asking, you’ve been interrogating me.”

“Because you are the recruit who wants to join and I’m your superior.” Rook’s defensiveness made her snap.

“True, that’s true.” Davrin’s friendly, relaxed face was serious now, his jaw set. “Apologies, Warden Thorne.”

“Just…it’s just Rook,” she sighed. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for and mean. It’s just…I messed up, that’s why I was sent here. I disagreed with the First Warden’s strategy about a mission and he didn’t like my input, so he sent me here as punishment. He didn’t word it like that, but I know it was that.”

Davrin looked at her, thoughtful, before he spoke. “Was the First Warden’s strategy bad?”

Rook shrugged. “It was not bad, but I thought some parts could be improved.”

“If he’s a good leader, he should listen to suggestions and implement them if they’re good,” Davrin said, matter of factly, and Rook snorted.

“If you end up joining, you better not say anything like that when the First Warden’s around or someone who might tell him.” She was only half-joking. “Besides…I was not the nicest, I might have said my suggested strategy a bit…let’s say bluntly.” She’d lost her cool and she’d been disrespectful to a superior, she admitted it.

“I still don’t think you deserved any punishment,” Davrin insisted.

Rook shrugged, trying to pretend it didn’t upset her. “It wasn’t our first disagreement. I know he thinks I’m a shit warden.” She hadn’t meant to say the last part, but she couldn’t stop it.

“I doubt you’re a shit warden,” Davrin offered, and Rook scoffed.

“You can’t know that, you don’t know me,” she snapped. She didn’t want his pity, neither did she want him buttering her up so she’d rush his joining…she refused to acknowledge that he might be saying that because he was nice or because he believed it. “I’m being a shit warden right now, if you ask them,” she said bitterly.

“How’s so?” Davrin arched an eyebrow, looking unimpressed and like he didn’t believe her.

“I shouldn’t be losing time walking you around and questioning you about things that don’t matter,” she began. “And I certainly shouldn’t be telling you how warden’s life is death and how you’ll have a short life and no future if you join,” she scoffed, it was the truth. “We take everyone, we need every last warden we can get, we always need more because the darkspawn threat is always here and our numbers are not as good as they used to be. I should have made you join already, no explanation, no questions. But here I am, trying to scare you off.”

Davrin blinked at her as she ranted, and then he smiled. “You’re honest and genuine, I think that’s good, and you care for people, you want better for them, how can all that make you a bad warden? I think it is the opposite and I don’t care what anyone, First Warden or not, thinks.”

Rook wanted to smile and grimace at the same time. She liked his spirit, his ideas, his thoughts, but he shouldn’t say things like that and she shouldn't encourage that kind of talk. Perhaps Laura was right and she’d get him in trouble before he even joined.

“Recruit, I told you not to speak like that…” She sighed.

Davrin grinned…too charming for his own good, and for her own too, perhaps. “I’m not a warden yet, so I can say that. And if I call you Rook, then you call me Davrin,” she said. “And Rook…you’re not scaring me off.”

“I’ve already realized that…” Rook shook her head with a sigh. She still hated the thought of seeing Davrin going through his joining, his potential death, and condemning someone like him to this life. “Come on, you wanted to see the training ground, I’ll show you.”

On their way there, Rook was silent but for some comments here and there about the outpost, while Davrin nodded along, also silent, but Rook could notice him taking discreet glances at her from time to time, as if he were studying her, but she decided not to comment on it, sure he’d come up with any sassy or charming, or both, remark that she wouldn't know how to counteract.

On the courtyard, Ser Blasco, a warden veteran of the fifth blight, who was now in charge of training recruits and junior wardens in that outpost, was instructing Alan and Marcus as they fought. Ser Blasco was an excellent fighter and a good trainer, and at first glance, it might seem he was the same as always, but he’d told Rook once how he’d started to feel the first signals of his calling.

Rook glanced at Davrin as they walked. His eyes were set on the wardens, serious and thoughtful as he studied the fight, as if he was getting ready for it, planning strategy already.

“Halt!” Ser Blasco stopped the fight when he saw them.

“Sorry for the interruption.” Rook nodded at Davrin. “This is Davrin, a new recruit.”

“The one who fought the ogre,” Ser Blasco said, looking Darvin up and down, almost as if studying him for weakness and strengths already, even at first glance. It was one of the things that made him a good trainer, but sometimes it felt a bit intrusive and awkward.

“The very same,” Davrin confirmed, nodding. Rook could see him tensing under the veteran’s scrutiny and under the wary looks of the junior wardens.

She didn’t dare to hope it might change his mind and scare him off, though, she might just have met Davrin, but she’d the impression he was stubborn and he wouldn’t back down from a challenge when his mind was set on what he wanted.

“Davrin, this is Ser Blasco, he’s in charge of training, he’ll have you feeling sore in muscles you didn’t know existed,” she introduced him and almost smiled when she noticed Marcus nodding along as he grimaced, he’d experienced the training. “And these are Marcus and Alan, our new junior wardens.”

“Nice to meet you,” Davrin smiled at them but his eyes were still studying them, almost like Ser Blasco was studying him.

“How was fighting an ogre?” Marcus asked, eager.

“I got lucky,” Darvin said and Rook was surprised he’d say something like that, instead of trying to show off. “I wasn’t as prepared as I should have. I didn’t know what I was hunting, other than it was big and a monster. You shouldn’t hunt monsters until you know what they are and you’re ready for it. That was a mistake that I won't make again”.

“Yet I’m told you tracked the ogre yourself and were holding your own when the wardens found you, and you helped put it down,” Ser Blasco commented.

“Yes, ser,” Darvin said. “But without the wardens I don’t think I’d have left that fight unharmed. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” Ser Blasco nodded. “It’s good that we can see our mistakes and work on them. In the fight against the darkspawn, we can’t afford to make the same mistake twice.” He looked at Davrin up and down again. “So, what do you say, recruit, I know you fought an ogre and just left the infirmary, but do you want to show us how a monster hunter fights?”

Davrin grinned, his face lighting up, as if not only did he want to but was eager to do it, and he wouldn’t back down from a challenge, that much had already been clear to Rook.

“Take any weapon you want.” Ser Blasco waved at the stack of weapons. “And choose who you want to fight.”

Davrin looked at the junior wardens while they did the same. They looked wary and Rook couldn’t blame them, all they knew about Davrin was that he hunted monsters and had fought an ogre by himself. Perhaps they were nervous about losing a fight against him in front of Ser Blasco and herself.

“I don’t know…it doesn’t feel fair to choose. They’re both wardens together, they can fight me together.” Davrin smiled and shrugged.

“You’re going to fight them both at the same time?” Rook rolled her eyes. Was he trying to prove himself again? Silly. Perhaps she was being unjust, though, perhaps he didn’t want to choose and pit the juniors against each other…nah, looking at that cocky smirk, he wanted to show off. “Ser Blasco, in all your years training, have you ever heard how cocky wardens live less?”

Her silly joke got a laugh out of the veteran warden and Rook was proud of it. Davrin turned his head to look at her with that smirk but he didn’t say a word.

“Your choice, recruit,” Ser Blasco said and Davrin nodded, taking a sword like the one the other wardens were using.

“Please, don’t beat him much, Laura just fixed him and I’d hate her good work to be ruined,” Rook couldn’t help but taunt Davrin a bit more, not with that cocky smirk of him, and when he shot her a playful glare, smiling, she couldn’t help her own smile.

“Begin,” Ser Blasco commanded.

At first, the men only looked at each other, then took tentative steps back and forth, but neither of them was the first to attack, as if they were unsure. Davrin was the first to go for it, striking at Alan, but the junior warden stopped the blade with his own, pushing Davrin back, though he was quick to recover and retaliate. Soon, Marcus was joining too.

Ser Blasco’s eyes were focused on the battle, he didn’t miss a detail, as if mentally taking notes and reviewing Davrin’s fighting. Rook knew that by the end of it, he’d have a big list of corrections and things to improve, along with a long list of exercises to practice, for the three men.

She’d assumed Davrin knew how to fight, she knew he couldn’t be bad at it, if he was a monster hunter, but still, she appreciated what she was seeing. Davrin was good, that much was clear, even if he didn’t seem to have much of a formal training in sword-fighting like Alan and Marcus did, and she thought she caught a couple of movements he might have learned with his Dalish clan.

He was holding his own, he had the upper hand more often than not, and even when he seemed to lose it, he didn’t give up and managed to retaliate somehow. However, Rook thought Alan and Marcus weren’t taking advantage of their numbers, they weren’t fighting Davrin together but almost taking turns, only focusing on themselves individually instead of joining their efforts.

“Ser, may I say something?” She asked Ser Blasco, who nodded. “Junior wardens, he’s beating your asses and he’s one against two, why are you both not fighting together? Work together or lose and be thankful he’s not darkspawn! Come on!”

“What’s this, my mentor is giving advice to beat me? The betrayal!” Davrin joked, panting and laughing. “I feel hurt!” He turned his head to grin at her, happy and handsome, the sight making Rook feel some odd and unwelcome flutter in her belly.

Davrin probably soon regretted having taken his focus from the fight to her, as the pommel of Alan’s sword hit him right in the stomach, cutting his breath short, his grin giving way to a grimace, but he managed to stop the next hit.

No matter the blows, Davrin seemed to enjoy the fight, his good mood apparent even when the combined efforts of the two trained wardens began to take their toll on him and he found it harder to keep up. Alan and Marcus had also lost their wariness, and the men were fighting as if they’d always been training together.

“That is!” Ser Blasco nodded, pleased. “Warden’s fight together against darkspawn, that’s how we win, fighting as one!”

He took his own sword and approached the fighting men. “Darkspawn’s gonna swarm you, dozens of them together, so Rook’s right, you better learn to work together. Now, the three of you, come.” He raised his sword at them, waiting for them to approach first.

The men looked at Ser Blasco, then at each other, and nodded, trying to coordinate and fight him together as if they’d always done so, as if they hadn’t been fighting each other moments ago. It was nice to see, to Rook at least. They were good together, she was glad Davrin fitted in, if he ended up joining, and Rook knew that wardens who fought darkspawn together like that had a better chance of survival.

Their combined efforts didn’t avail them much against the veteran warden, soon, he had disarmed them all as if it was nothing.

“Shit, you’re good!” Davrin laughed, good-natured, but then he turned serious. “I mean…Ser…I’m sorry…” He began as if he were worried he’d broken protocol. Ser Blasco just laughed.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about rank here.” He waved it off. “You’re a good fighter, Davrin, but we’ll make you better, you’ll be a good warden.”

Davrin grinned and Rook could see his pride at the veteran’s words. It was a beautiful sight, yet it filled her with dread…There was no way she was going to manage to talk him out of joining now.

“To make him a good warden, first we’ll have to feed him a proper meal,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant, she wanted to get Davrin away from the training grounds that he was enjoying way too much. “Come on, I’ll show you the kitchens now.”

“Wait.” Davrin turned that stupidly pretty smile to her. “You don’t fight?”

“Yes, she does.” Alan grimaced as if he remembered the last time they’d trained together.

“Fight me, then.” Davrin was grinning as he challenged her, good-natured. “You’re my mentor, I want to see you kick my ass…unless you think it’ll be the other way around.”

He was still smiling, Rook knew that his words were just teasing, taunting her like she’d taunted him. He seemed eager to see her fight, and Rook didn’t like to show off, but he was making her almost want to.

“Someone wants their eyebrows scorched…” Marcus murmured and Alan snickered.

“I’m not your mentor, I’m just in charge of your joining,” Rook said as she rolled her shoulders and stepped in front of him. “But sure, come try…I’ll be careful, don’t worry, I know you’d hate to postpone your joining because you got hurt.” That wouldn’t be too bad, actually…but Rook couldn’t get herself to actually hurt him.

Davrin just smiled again before he went serious as he looked her up and down in a way that made Rook wonder if he was studying her for the fight, or checking her out, or both. The thought was too distracting and she rushed to stop it.

“You are not taking a weapon?” Davrin asked when she didn’t move.

“I’m a mage.” Rook summoned small swirls of magic, that cracked like lightning, to both her hands for a couple of seconds, and she’d lie if she said she didn’t enjoy Davrin’s look of wonder and his smile.

“Alright.” Davrin nodded, squaring his shoulders and planting his feet firmly on the ground, sword ready, but he didn’t move towards her.

“Are you waiting to see if she can summon darkspawn or something, recruit?” Ser Blasco teased him when he kept waiting.

Darvin didn’t say anything to that or looked at the veteran warden, his eyes fixed on Rook, seeming hesitant.

“I’m waiting,” Rook taunted him. “Come on, recruit, strike.”

Davrin still seemed unsure, but he nodded, squaring his shoulders again. When he struck, though, his sword stopped before getting too close to her, and he glared at the junior wardens when they laughed at his uncertainty

“You weren’t going to dodge,” he accused Rook, she hadn’t moved a muscle. “And you can’t parry, you got no shield or sword, or…nothing.”

Rook wondered if she should be offended by his lack of trust in her ability to defend herself, but she couldn’t. It was kind of sweet, that he worried he might hurt her and he didn’t want to. Besides, judging by his reaction, perhaps he was not used to fighting magic.

“Do you think I’d let you hit me?” She arched an eyebrow and Davrin shook his head. “Then come on, fight.”

Davrin got ready to strike again, and this time, he didn’t stop. When the sword was about to hit her, Rook summoned an orb of lightning to her hand, which quickly spread to shield her from the sword. Davrin was lucky he was still hesitant, barely putting any strength on his strike, because the force of the blow went back to him as the sword hit the magic shield.

He staggered a bit, and before he could catch up on what had happened, Rook quickly took her hidden dagger, striking at Davrin, her magic flying from the blade, amplifying the blow. She was pleased to see that, despite his surprise, Davrin was quick to try to dodge, he had good instincts and good reflexes.

Still, he cursed when some of the lightning strikes hit him, creating small holes in his sleeve. Rook had been careful, though, trying to make sure her magic wasn’t too powerful and that the strike wouldn’t fully reach Davrin, which required more effort than probably a non-mage realized.

Davrin looked at her in wonder, smiling and laughing, as if she hadn’t just hit him with lighting. “That’s amazing!”

Rook was not immune to his praise or to the way he was looking at her, but she would rather not acknowledge the way it made her feel. Instead, she sent some tiny lightning strikes around Davrin’s feet, carefully not to hit him. He just smiled wider.

“Try again,” she challenged.

Davrin did, and they fought for a bit. He was observant and a quick thinker, Rook was realizing that as she saw him getting used to her magic and the way it worked, the way she used it. That was probably one of the things that made him a good monster hunter. Still, he wouldn’t get the upper hand on her, not that he seemed to mind, he still seemed to be enjoying the fight, and Rook realized that she was too.

“Alright, I’d say that’s enough for Davrin for today,” Ser Blasco stopped them. “He has to get ready for his joining.” His words killed Rook’s good mood in a heartbeat, instead filling her with dread at the thought of Davrin’s joining.

“I wouldn’t say no to free food,” Davrin joked.

“You will when you see the porridge,” Marcus said, cursing when Ser Blasco hit him with the flat of his sword on the back of the head, while Alan snickered.

“Okay, I’ll show you the kitchens…” Rook nodded, though her smile and good mood were gone. “Ser Blasco, junior wardens, I’ll see you all later.”

“This was great, thanks.” Davrin grinned at them. “I’ll see you all soon for more training I hope.”

Alan and Marcus shared a look, and Rook knew they were thinking they might not see Davrin again, if he went through with the joining. Nobody said anything, though.

“Good luck, recruit,” Ser Blasco said, solemn, and Darvin’s smile faltered for a moment, as if he could feel that something was off, but he nodded, thanked them again, and followed Rook.

Rook served Davrin a bowl of porridge and looked at his face as he tasted it, but he didn’t complain about it, despite being obvious he didn’t like it, and he kept eating, actually devouring the thing. Everyone was right, he’d be a good warden, despite how Rook resisted the idea. She squinted at him as he finished the tasteless bowl in less than a minute

“How long have you gone without eating?” She asked.

“I have been eating.” Davrin shrugged. “But not much this last couple of days, there wasn’t much game, I think the ogre scared it.”

She should have fed him right away instead of letting him fight. “Do you want another bowl?” When Davrin gave her a bashful smile and a nod, Rook gave him a refill of tasteless porridge.

“I’d never fought a mage before,” Davrin said between mouthfuls of food. “You’re great at it.”

Rook ignored the feelings that his compliment sent to her stomach. “Thank you. You are a good fighter too.”

“I told you I was.” Davrin gave her his cocky smirk. He ate the last spoonful of food before looking at her again. “It was great, really.” He grinned. “This is what I want, fighting together against the darkspawn for the greater good.”

He sounded so idealistic, so eager, his smile was so beautiful, but it filled Rook with dread, knowing there was no way of changing his mind now.

“Out there, everyone’s out for themselves,” Davrin kept going. “But not here, not with the wardens. It’s like you and Ser Blasco said, we wardens have to fight together, work together.”

Rook considered his words and leaned back on her seat with a sigh. So, he wanted to be part of a group that worked together... “You miss your clan.”

“What?” Davrin’s eyes opened wide before he frowned at her. “No! Well…sometimes…” He shrugged and looked away from her. “But that doesn’t mean I want to go back, or that I don’t know why I left! Clan’s life’s not for me.”

“Davrin-”

“No!” Davrin stopped her before she could say anything else. “I’m not you, Rook! I know you lost your clan and I know it was horrible, I’m sure you wish you could go back to them, but that’s not me! So stop it!”

Rook forgot what she was going to say. She felt like her heart had been punched, her throat seemed to close and her eyes itched. She didn’t know why Davrin’s words affected her like that. It wasn’t unkind, and it was true, she missed her clan every day and she wished to be back with them every day, no matter that she liked her job as a warden.

“Rook…” Davrin said softly as she got up without a word. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I shouldn’t have said something like that to you,” Davrin insisted. “I’m sorry.”

Davrin was right, though. Who was she to stop his joining? She’d been stalling and trying to prevent it, she’d been intrusive and interrogated him, when it was not her business…

“There are things to get ready for your joining,” she said flatly as she turned around. “I’m going to talk to Ser Arthur, I’ll find you when we’re ready to start.”

“Rook,” Davrin called after her but she walked away.

I'd like to thank @thedissonantverses and @mythals-whore for reading and commenting on the previous chapter, it's really encouraging, thank you!

Otherwise it feels like nobody is interested or enjoys this, so writing and postings ends up feeling a bit discouraging. I know this is a canon divergence and a slow, long fic, which is not for everyone, though.

Anyway, thanks for reading, if you liked this, please let me know in a comment, and as always, reblogs are more than welcome.

Excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

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