#in fact it’s still possible that it was something that was mentioned ONCE or mentioned like. not in that way

[cyarikaplease]

say no to this

step dad!din djarin x f!reader

summary: you have sex with your step dad in the mines of mandalore

warnings: explicit smut, must be 18 years or older to read, step-cest, if that is not your thing then please click away

Life on Mandalore has been nothing short of hectic. It’s not that you don’t like having the clans living amongst each other. But the fact of the matter is you don’t feel like Mandalore is your home. You didn’t grow up on Mandalore and based on the legends you didn’t understand why the others were so determined to come back. And now that you��re living here, you still don’t get it.

They’ve done their best to make the place feel more like a home. Houses made of stone have been built but they’re more utilitarian than cozy. They’re still trying to figure out what land can be used for farming and it’s a miracle no one’s starving yet.

And then there’s your mother. Your mother decided to get remarried once you got settled here and she chose to marry none other than Din Djarin. You expected your mom to get married again sooner or later. She’s been lonely since your father passed away during battle many cycles ago. But you didn’t expect her to marry Din. You’ve heard the rumors about him but you didn’t meet him until right before everyone went to reclaim Mandalore. You didn’t have time to address your attraction to him back then but that’s when it started. Between the saunter in his step, how broad he is, and his brilliant silver armor you’re head over heels. Not to mention how good he is with his then-foundling and now son, Grogu.

He’s been the only person concerned about your transition to life on Mandalore. As if your attraction to Din needed to grow any deeper. Your mother has been busy with Bo-Katan and the Armorer, developing infrastructure and surveying land for farming. Which left you alone with Din and Grogu. He’s been great with checking in with you here and there.

On the rare occasions when he went with the others to attend to matters, you were left to watch over Grogu. And it made you seethe with jealousy. Not that you didn’t like watching Grogu. You just felt like you should be out there with your man. Because deep down, you developed not only a crush but a slightly possessive one at that.

You think he feels it, too. There have been times when his visor lingers on you. And although you can’t see his face like he can see yours, you can only imagine what his expression is like underneath his helmet. Or it’s a pat on your shoulder or his hand on the small of your back as he’s trying to scooch behind you. It’s literally anything. It doesn’t matter what because your mind has convinced you that he wants you like you want him. Sometimes you think you’re crazy, that you’re foolish for believing that your stepdad could possibly be into you.

But maybe you’re not so crazy after all.

It’s another typical day for you. You’re sitting outside, looking up at the muddled atmosphere. You sense Din beside you out of your peripheral, towering above you.

“Doing alright?” he asks, crouching down to sit beside you. He sets Grogu down, letting him waddle around on the rocks, lifting a few of the small ones with the Force.

“Not really. But it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. What can I help you with?”

“Probably nothing. I’m just never going to get used to this place being home.”

“Can I suggest something?”

“What is it?” you ask, turning to look at him.

“What about doing some things to feel more connected to the creed?”

“Like what?”

“Have you visited the Living Waters?”

“No.”

“I would start there.”

“I thought you only had to go there if you messed up. You know… like you did,” you joke.

“Very funny,” he deadpans.

“But I’ll go if you think it’ll help.”

He scoops Grogu into his arms and stands, offering his free hand to help you up. You grab your helmet and take his hand, standing so close to him it makes your stomach flutter. You look down before replacing your helmet on your head and see his hand flex after he lets it go. And it leaves you wondering what that could mean.

You bid him goodbye, feeling his visor burn a hole into you walk away. The journey to the Living Waters is uneventful. Most if not all of the threats were cleared out by the others a while ago.

Once you get there you take off your helmet and jetpack, sitting on the stone floor by the water's edge and enjoying the solitude. It’s actually peaceful down here and you hate feeling that way. You’ve gotten so used to being apathetic about every aspect of this place that feels weird to enjoy something here for once. Since moving here you’ve gotten used to being alone, since your mother and the other clan members have been so busy. Aside from the moments with Din and Grogu, of course. But here it feels like you’re alone on your own terms like you chose for it to be this way instead of the others just abandoning you.

“How are you doing?” a voice says behind you.

You startle with a jolt, turning your torso to get a glance at who’s there. It’s Din, of course. Who else would it be? No one else cares this much to come all this way to see how you’re doing. You’re surprised you didn’t hear him but you must’ve been too far in your own head, reflecting.

“I don’t mind it down here,” you say, turning to face the water again.

He detaches his jetpack and sits beside you like he did on the surface, but this time he spins around to face your side, back nice and straight up nice and straight with his hands resting on his knees. You scooch around to meet him in the middle, both of you facing each other. Grogu’s noticeably absent this time.

“Where’s Grogu?”

“Playing with the other younglings.”

“My mother?”

“Still with Bo-Katan and the others. Something about planting a few test crops to see how they take.”

“Ahh.”

“Just admit you like it down here,” he says. You can just by his voice that he’s wearing a smug grin on his face.

“Fine,” you roll your eyes, “But don’t tell anyone. Or else they’ll start asking me to help out.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m just glad something finally got you to feel better. Even if it’s just a little bit.”

“Yeah…” you trail off. You turn your head back towards the water and ask, “But why do you care so much?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you care if I’m happy or not?”

“I know what it’s like to move to a strange place, to feel like you don’t fit in.”

You stifle a snort, prompting him to ask, “What?”

“When have you ever felt like you didn’t fit in?” you say, turning your head back towards him.

“Lots of times. Especially when I’m the only Mandalorian in a room.”

“Oh yeah? So what did you do to make yourself feel better?”

“It’s empowering not to fit in.”

“How so?”

“It means there’s something about you that sets you apart from the others.”

“I don’t think I have that.”

“You do. You just don’t see it.”

“And what’s that?”

“Your spunk.”

“My spunk?”

“Yeah. You’re not afraid to let your mother have it. That’s for sure.”

That gets you to laugh, a real laugh. Maker, you haven’t laughed or felt this much joy since before you moved here.

“Thanks for saying all that,” you say, inching closer to him.

“I mean it,” he says, leaning forward.

Without thinking you inch closer even more and now the gap between you two is almost nonexistent. You gaze directly into his visor, imagining what he looks like underneath his helmet. As if he read your mind, he gravitates his hands towards the bottom edge of his helmet, lifting it off of his head. You throw your hand over your eyes out of respect. Is he crazy? He just redeemed himself for doing this not that long ago.

“You can look. We’re a part of the same clan after all.”

His voice. His unmodulated voice.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yes really,” he chuckles.

You put your hand back in your lap slowly, taking in his appearance. He’s better than you ever could’ve imagined. His brown curls are slightly matted from his helmet, albeit in a cute way. His facial hair is slightly graying along his jawline. And his eyes, so warm and brown they make you melt.

You’re so close to him that his warm breath tickles your face. He’s so intoxicating it makes your mind short-circuit. Without thinking you lean forward, closing the small and almost nonexistent gap between you two, pressing your lips against his. He freezes, his body going tense and stiff before melting into the kiss. His hand finds your chin, his rugged and calloused fingers gingerly touching your skin. The kiss grows more and more passionate; more heated. His tongue brushes against your lips, begging for access. But it’s almost like that brings you back down to reality. This isn’t just any man you’re kissing. This is your stepdad.

You pull back and look at the water again, hoping that he doesn’t notice how flustered you are.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t be sorry. You were just acting on your feelings.”

“My feelings?” you say, looking at him again and raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, your feelings. It was only a matter of time before you acted on them.”

Your heart drops to your stomach.

“H-How long have you known?”

“A while. Since before your mother and I got married.”

You place your head in your hands, mortified and groaning in embarrassment. You feel him inch closer again, bringing his head by your ear like he’s whispering a secret.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I feel the same way,” he whispers, tickling the shell of your ear.

“You do?!” you ask in disbelief, poking your head up.

“Mhm,” he says, kissing you again with the same grip on your chin.

“But aren’t we breaking the creed?” you ask, pulling away again but hovering over his lips.

“Look where we are, cyar’ika. We can just bathe in the Living Waters after.”

“I guess you’re right…”

“Relax, mesh’la. Let me take care of you.”

He gently pushes you so you’re lying on the stone floor. He pulls off one of his gloves and hovers over you, ghosting his fingers over the fly on your flight suit. You’re embarrassed by how wet you are already. But it’s natural given how much you’ve fantasized about this moment. You just didn’t expect it to take place here beside the Living Waters.

He opens the fly of your flight suit and palms the wetness in your underwear. His mouth curves into a devious smirk before he bites his bottom lip. You look down between your legs and see the bugle in his fight suit, his cock hard and straining against the fabric.

“You’re so wet, cyar’ika. I’ve barely touched you.”

You whimper in response and he chuckles darkly, watching as you writhe under his touch. He loves every minute of it.

“Have you touched yourself and thought of me?”

Your mouth opens to respond but no words come out, surprised at his bold question.

“You can tell me, cyar’ika.”

“Y-Yes,” you admit.

“What did you think about?”

“Uh, something not too far off from this.”

“Tell me,” he repeats.

“You sneaking into my room at night, touching me while I sleep.”

“Dirty girl,” he says, resting on the back of his heels. He opens your flight suit more, taking your underwear in his hands and ripping apart the fabric. You gasp but he doesn’t stop, tearing your underwear in half before pulling them off of you and tossing them to the side.

“Din!” you say, turning your head and glancing at the strewn fabric.

“Need you. Now,” he grunts, taking his pointer and middle fingers in his mouth, slicking them with his saliva. You spread your thighs apart farther, aching for his touch already. He slides his pointer finger inside you, curling it painstakingly slowly against your g-spot.

“Mm, Din please, I need more,” you whine.

“Are you begging?” he asks, hovering his face mere inches above yours.

“Kriff… Yes, I am.”

“Say it.”

“I need more… more fingers,” you whimper.

“Good girl,” he praises, pushing his middle finger inside you.

Soon the cavern is filled with your moans, echoes bouncing off the rocky walls. He brings his head over your cunt, spitting a wad of saliva over your clit before rubbing his thumb over it. Your back arches up off the floor and he steadies you with his other hand on your hip.

“Wanna feel you cum all over my fingers, cyar’ika. Can you do that for me?”

“Harder,” you beg.

He obliges, picking up the pace of his fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit. With one last push against your g-spot, you cum, walls clenching and releasing his fingers.

“Good girl,” he praises, astonished at the amount of wetness you produced.

You ride out your high with a jumbled string of moans, whimpers, and curse words, letting your orgasm subside. He pulls his hand from you, holding his fingers above your mouth. They glisten under the dim lights of the mine.

“Open,” he commands.

You do as you’re told, opening your mouth for him. He places his fingers inside your mouth and you taste yourself on your tongue. He guides your mouth close with a hand on your jaw, commanding again, “Suck my fingers.”

Once he’s decided you’ve done enough, he pulls his fingers from your mouth and grabs your chin, kissing you deeply while his other hand pulls out his cock. He rests on his heels and takes off his other glove, gathering your spend and slathering it on his cock. You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a look and somehow it’s more than you could’ve ever imagined it to be— long, thick, and uncut.

“Are you ready, cyar’ika?” he asks, hovering over you again and coaxing you to lie back down.

You nod and he thrusts into you slowly, burying himself down to the hilt.

“You feel so good like this pussy was made for me,” he says, nestling his head into the crook of your neck and sinking his teeth in your skin. Your response is barely coherent, another mix of moans and curse words.

“Use your words, cyar’ika.”

“Harder, p-please. I can take it.”

He pokes his head up and meets your gaze again, lips curled into that damn devious smirk.

“I knew you could,” he says before kissing you. He draws his hips and slams into you. It’s a symphony of pants, whimpers, the sound of skin slapping against skin, and the wet, squelching sound your pussy makes. You tangle your hands in his hair, tugging on it lightly. He moans into the kiss and thrusts into you harder, until you cum around his cock. He pulls his head back and studies your face as you cum. Tears roll down your cheeks as your orgasm ripples through you, core muscles spasming erratically.

“Good girl,” he says, repeating it over and over again while the pace of his thrusts never falters.

He cums inside you, balls deep and hitting the deepest angles inside you. You’re filled with the warm feeling of his release, looking at his face as he cums. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open in a soft O. The curls on his forehead are matted with sweat and sticking to his forehead. You can’t help but absentmindedly bring a hand to his cheek and stroke his facial hair. He’s beautiful.

He pulls out of you and sits between your legs. The post-orgasm clarity is settling in and you’re left with the reality of what just happened. You zip up your flight suit and sit up, looking at him with a wild expression in your eyes.

“What now?”

“Into the waters we go.”

He puts his cock away and stands up, offering you his hand. You stand and walk down the steps with him, slowly submerging yourself in the water, never letting go of his hand.

“Repeat after me: I swear on my name. And the names of the Ancestors, that I shall walk the way of the Mand’alor… and the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.”

You say the phrase back to him, looking in his eyes the entire time. Although you’ve just repented for your transgressions, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t matter. The feelings you have for him only run deeper after what just happened.

He leads you out of the water where you replace your helmets and reattach your jetpacks. He turns to you one last time before leaving and says, “No one can know.”

“No one can know,” you repeat before he takes off and you’re left with the stillness of it all, wondering if that will be the first and last time you have sex with your stepdad.

[miabbh]

Undocked ⚓🦇

vampire ship captain!Baekhyun x reader

Synopsis: With the madness that the passage of time brings to his kind, he is forced to save you from what he himself did to you, when you were trying to run away from your state of life just much as he was.

Genre: fluff, semi-explicit, tiny bit of angst, mentions of blood | around 8,5k words

There are only two circumstances in which there is nothing left to do: when you die, and when you lose hope. Even so, for the ultimate end, these two must coexist.

He still carried hope; you, life.

With age, for those of his kind, wisdom was joined by madness and lack of control, intertwined with growing folly and perdition. The omen of the end was revealed as an irresistible temptation: a visceral desire to reintegrate with those from whom they had once been estranged, in the illusory hope of recovering their lost humanity. But this closeness only awakened the dark nature that dwelled underneath, summoning the beast that hungrily waited to break free. When the mask fell, horror and carnage were unleashed and the inevitable followed.

Baekhyun recognised the signs well, spectral melodies that echoed with the arrival of each new moon, as familiar as they were terrifying. What had begun as a mournful whisper, steeped in nostalgia, now explodes into ferocious cries from the depths of his diaphragm, rising up his throat to become inhuman screams, reverberating like echoes in chambers of cold stone.

The sea has become his only bastion since it started to become a threat to stay on land for long periods of time. If it hadn't been for Chanyeol, these last three months on land would have had much more to embitter his conscience than the resentment that he might not survive until the end of the decade.

The ships he commanded became progressively smaller, safer, as safe as it was to have a vampire who couldn't control his instincts confined to a vessel with a hundred or two of humans. Small ships with two hundred filthy rich humans, with addictions corrupting their souls and bodies—they weren't exactly the most desirable, not even for when the most savage being revealed itself.

Grateful for his survival instincts, Baekhyun clung to what still made him feel useful and happy—the helms of the small cruise ships on which he shared command with Chanyeol.

He didn't even have a safe harbour now, except for the two of them.

Still, he smiles, with a smile that defies the very essence of what flowed through him, overflowing with an unsuspected tenderness, so authentic that it seems to question the nature of the blood that courses through his unholy veins.

And then, you.

For the first time in decades, his smile found a more sub-lime purpose.

He sensed your presence even before his eyes reached you, as if the sweetness you radiated was an invisible enchantment, crossing the ballroom with a subtlety that stood out amid the decadence of perfumes and muffled voices. For a moment, Baekhyun let himself be carried away, his attention lost, disconnected from the insipid conversation between the officials and the cruise company representatives. Moved by an almost spectral impulse, he looked for you and saw you coming through the varnished wooden door, trying to tidy up your hair that had come loose from the simple but elegant updo, possibly because of the wind outside.

He followed your every hesitant step with fascination, until you settled by the window, away from the crowd.

He saw you for the first time at check-in, when your fragrance was mixed with a touch of apprehension, as you carried a suitcase in one hand and a camera in the other, walking down the corridor towards the cabins.

There was something hypnotic about the way you captured the world around you: the empty corridor, the plaster mouldings on the walls, the minimalist ornaments and, finally, the number on your door—64. Or the fact that you found interest in the simplest detail of the signature on the ship's map.

A faint smile had appeared on his lips as he watched you from a distance, like a figure lost in the shadows at the bottom of the stairs.

There was an unusual magnetism about you, a presence that seemed to belong to another era, and he felt drawn to your existence. Yet you remained motionless, your countenance serenely composed, concealing the turmoil that was agitating your spirit.

Now, seeing you come in late for dinner, occupying a solitary table, aroused in him a restlessness that bordered on despair. The desire to get up and walk over to you resounded like an inexorable call, but he held back. Chanyeol mentioned his name, and Baekhyun, momentarily pulled out of the spell that was enveloping him, once again concealed the intensity of his interest with the dexterity of an actor.

The wind blew so hard the moment you stepped out on deck that it almost ripped out the clip holding your hair in a semi-formal updo. Since you checked in mid-afternoon, you had been contemplating whether to stay in your cabin all night or attend the welcoming dinner offered by the cruise company. And now, on the verge of descending the stairs to the harbour, you were rethinking your choice.

The dinner was taking place in a small ballroom, just above the harbour where the cruise ship was docked. From the movement around you, it seemed that all the other passengers were already there when you finally grabbed hold of the metal railing of the staircase that connected the ship to the harbour. At least it didn't sway in the wind!

It's not that you're a fan of these occasions—exquisite dinners, without knowing anyone, without a clear purpose—and it wasn't with that in mind that you joined this mini holiday on the Atlantic. But the movement of the waves, which you weren't used to, made you uneasy. If the boat capsizes because of the wind, or water gets into the cabins, or the lights go out because of the afterlife, you didn't want to be the only one left on board because you were embarrassed to sit alone at dinner.

A lot had driven you to that moment, despite your tendency to be anxious at the thought of getting on a boat on the high seas without knowing how to swim.

There wasn't much to look forward to in your daily life; everything and nothing happened at the same time. You rushed to stay in the same place, in a tedious and exhausting limbo, where you didn't even know who you were anymore.

That wasn't the work perspective you had when you did your master's in photography. Your job in a photography agency was well paid, your nine and a half hours three out of five days a week of work were almost forgotten when the end of the month arrived and you managed to pay all the bills and enjoy a bit of pampering for your collection of photographic equipment. However, you soon saw your landscapes and city moments captured on camera turn into all the same photographs of individuals with their arms crossed with more or less similar promises, against a monochrome background and perfectly controlled lighting.

Your dream, tucked away in a corner of the living room and in a few drawers and cupboards, only saw the light of day on some Sundays. Just like your creativity.

After seven years at the same pace, you felt betrayed. Betrayed by yourself. You didn't have the time, despite the material you'd invested so much in; you didn't have the energy, despite the will and encouragement of those who loved you. Carrying a camera in your hands had gone from a comfort to a burden on your heart.

The passion slowly faded without you realizing it.

Until 18 months ago, when exhaustion overtook the usual tiredness, and getting home consisted of taking a quick shower, leaning against the kitchen worktop while Alejandro handled the pots and pans with your dinner, and barely remembering to eat it to wake up in bed the next day with the alarm clock ringing.

Alejandro was an attentive and caring and funny boyfriend. You met while fighting over the last almond cookies from the bakery in your street.

It started with a small, deadly hatred for each other, always with a view to getting to the stand first. It was a bit ridiculous, when you thought about it outside of moments of competitive adrenaline, but you only had to watch him round the corner on his noisy motorbike to not-so-discreetly chain his way to the bakery door.

Everything changed the day they both arrived at the bakery at the same time, exhausted from racing each other. You laughed together for the first time, your faces flushed from running, and he offered you the last almond cookie. From that moment on, something unfolded naturally. Before long, he was in your life in a solid and stable way. Competition gave way to quiet complicity, and his presence became comforting.

With him, there was a sense of solid partnership that emerged in the simplest moments: a silly joke at the end of the day, the care taken to put a blanket over you when you fell asleep on the sofa, or the way he looked at you, as if every beat of his heart was thanks to your presence.

In the last six months, however, it was only through the selfie with him that you had as your lockscreen that you saw him. Work days went by in a flash, and you only remembered to go home after the usual stress of fighting for a parking slot in front of your building. Everything else was a mixture of yawns, a heavy body and your mind thinking about what you had to do the next day.

Your end came after almost four years. He was understanding, but offered a lot of resistance. Maybe that's what you deserved... how could you love someone if you didn't even love yourself? If you weren't even fighting for what you wanted?

You were so, so close to giving up—to giving up on the life you had. But then you allowed yourself to take a risk. The final straw came the day you broke your camera lens at one of your work meetings. To help it, your car wouldn't start when it was time to leave; you had to park almost on the other side of the block when you arrived at an empty, dark home.

It was enough!

The letter of resignation appeared on your computer in minutes, as if your fingers knew better than your mind what you wanted to say.

Sending it took a little longer, you were given two hours—shower and a not very successful attempt at cooking—to send the email.

And send it you did.

A week was enough to realise that you had been impulsive. But a part of your mind wouldn't allow you to feel guilty; that's what you wanted deep down, wasn't it?

The walls of an empty flat, the work folders on your computer, the photos on your camera memory card didn't really allow you to rest.

You had no tears left to cry-not even for yourself, nor for the film playing in the background on TV, full of inspiring phrases about resilience and courage.

When the ad break came, you almost laughed at the irony: an advert for a cruise line that promised the perfect escape from a monotonous life.

"I'm spending a week on a cruise across the Atlantic. I promise I'll keep you updated, but please don't call me." is what you said to your parents and friends after booking a cabin on the company's website, extending the conversation a little further with rearrangements about the upcoming festivities.

A small cruise with only 170 people in total, in search of a little peace from the hustle and bustle of the city and something beautiful to photograph, that would touch your soul, that would make you feel connected to your dream again.

What a good synopsis for what you hoped would be a good restart to your life, rather than a stray from the end.

To begin with, however, you decided to leave the camera, your only constant companion, in the cabin.

Today, it was just you.

A crew member guarding the entrance, with a watchful eye, was waiting at the bottom of the stairs and asked:

"Are you going to dinner, miss?" You nodded. You nodded. "That car can take you there."

The black car with the company logo was parked a few metres away. You walked down the remaining steps, a sudden relief in your chest as you felt you were on solid ground, the wind no longer so strong.

"Yes, please."

He signalled, and the car lights came on before the driver got out of his seat and opened the back door for you.

The car door closed beside you with a soft click, muffling the sound of the wind whipping through the harbour. You watched the small, illuminated ballroom approach, feeling a mixture of hesitation and discomfort.

You looked around, searching for some familiar sign, but you knew you were alone.

As you entered the lounge, the soft lights and the hushed murmur of conversation created a cosy atmosphere. You looked for a discreet table, away from the centre of attention. You found one, by the window, overlooking the harbour, now shrouded in darkness were it not for the ship's outside lights. You sat there, watching the lounge. Your gaze passed over the unfamiliar faces, the elegantly decorated tables, feeling like an outsider among everyone.

As you settled in, you let your gaze wander around the room. The unfamiliar faces mingled in conversations and laughter that echoed in the background. You had met some of the crew during check-in, but you only recognised the second captain, Chanyeol, sitting at a table in the centre with a few other crew members. He was smiling in the same way as when you first saw him: a smile almost too sweet for his height and build.

You took a deep breath, looking at the table in front of you and wondering how long you would have to stand there before it was acceptable to return to the cabin. Perhaps you could order something light to eat and escape before the end...

While you were analysing your surroundings, one of the waitresses approached you.

"Can I get you something, miss?"

"Something light, please." you said in an almost inaudible tone, forcing a polite smile. You didn't have much of an appetite.

She nodded and, a few minutes later, brought you some soup and an omelette with roast vegetables. You nodded your thanks and started eating.

A woman at the next table laughed at something, and you looked up. You should have sat back to them. Or sideways, at least... Suddenly, that familiar feeling of strangeness when eating returned, and you had to put down your spoon and drink some of the cool water, opting to attack the omelette for the time being.

You ate in silence, as quickly as possible without seeming rushed. You could already feel the relief creeping in, about to escape, when the lights in the lounge subtly changed and soft music began to play. The first chords of a waltz-like melody filled the room, and you were overcome with a mixture of curiosity and delight.

A small dance floor opened up in the centre, and couples began to join in slowly, lulled by the music.

You didn't realise that this was what they meant when they said "𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬".

The beauty of the dance and the human warmth that radiated from the moment touched you in a way you hadn't expected. You automatically grabbed your phone to capture some images. You wished you'd brought the camera when the photo didn't quite live up to expectations.

Possibly the few hundred photos you had taken of your own volition and pleasure only existed because of Alejandro. He didn't like being "immortalised in bytes" and had already made that clear several times, but you still allowed him to sneak into one or the other. His serene smile, dark skin and black hair added an intimate and real touch to the photographs. It was a piece of your story, too.

If he was here, maybe you could 'live the moment and save it on your minds' on the dance floor too.

You didn't let the memory get to you. Or you tried to. A heavy sigh demanded to be released.

You looked around. You hadn't realised how interesting the space was: a mix of an older architectural style, probably over two hundred years old, from the windows and columns and chandeliers, with the flooring you see everywhere these days and the round, simple tables of this century.

It was a beautiful location for wedding photos. With the right decoration, some flowers, a happy couple and family and friends genuinely celebrating. Maybe you could get a few shots of the sun harbouring through those huge windows. Just the silhouette and the sky painted orange and pink...

You were back in your element, observing and freezing moments. The smile grew on your lips unintentionally, imagining the possibilities that space had to offer.

You turned to photograph the chandelier when someone approached your table. A man with a gentle smile on his lips stopped next to you. You didn't recognise him immediately, but there was something about the way he looked at you, with a quiet curiosity, that disarmed you.

You pressed your phone against the chest.

"May I have the honour of this dance?" he asked, his voice low and calm, but full of a kind of magnetism.

He was tall, with brown hair and a deep, sweet gaze to match his smile, which became a little smaller as his cheeks rose. The dark blue tone of the knitted sweater suited his features so well, as did the gold pendant he wore around his neck.

The women at the next table watched him with intent, a hint of envy in their wrinkled noses or in the nerve of their eyebrows. He, however, didn't seem to notice.

Surprised, you looked at him. Why you?

There was a calmness about him that drew you in, as if he were in no hurry, as if he had all the time in the world to wait for you.

You hunched your shoulders, as if that could hide you.

"I... I'm not very good at dancing any more…" you said with a small, nervous smile.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes shining with lightness.

"I promise I won't trip you up.”

And 'no' was no longer an answer to that inviting slender hand.

"Well, then..." the cellphone was left on the table when you placed your hand in his, a little hesitant. But he remained still, holding your hand with a gentleness that gave you confidence.

When you reached the dance floor, the lights seemed to soften even more and the music enveloped you in a slow and enchanting rhythm. You smiled nervously when your free hand rested on his broad shoulder, the other subtly rolling into his until they fit together.

A soft touch of a waltz enveloped you. The first steps were tentative, but he guided you confidently, and as the dance progressed, you began to lose yourself in the moment. Your movements became fluid.

The room glowed with twinkling lights, and the warmth of the crowd became a distant backdrop.

It wasn't difficult. You had danced before, yes. Several times, with more or less public, when the simplicity of teenage life gave you time to experiment and dedicate some time a week to activities that were a rewarding indulgence.

The firm touch of his hand that held yours high, the light pressure of his fingers on your back brought back that feeling of going back in time. And suddenly it seemed like everything had a solution.

His face in profile, as he measured the spacing between the other dancers before making you move forward, showed serenity and fun. If he only knew what he was doing for you…

He felt your gaze on him.

"My name is Baekhyun, by the way." he said, turning to you, eyes fixed on yours.

Baekhyun.

You smiled at him and said your name.

He repeats it with a smile that you used to only see through the camera when you went out to take photos in the park. As if it were a name with immense meaning, beautiful, and because it is yours.

For a moment, everything seemed perfect.

In a sudden change of pace, in your distraction, you tripped over your own feet. A brief moment of imbalance, and before you can correct yourself, you feel yourself losing your stability, the ground slipping away from you.

That was living in the dream, wasn't it? Waking up to reality in the best part... Have you prepared yourself for the pain of falling, or waking up still at the table trying to figure out how to use a spoon without feeling embarrassed.

But instead of the impact, you felt Baekhyun reacting instantly, pulling you closer.

“Sorry." you murmured, pressed against his chest, grabbing the shoulder of his sweater when the world stopped being on pause.

A moment of silence fell over the two of you before it turned into an explosion of laughter. He laughed, and the sound of his laughter was contagious. The environment around you seemed to light up even more, and you couldn't help but smile as you felt the lightness of the situation.

“Thanks." you whispered. Baekhyun just smiled, his eyes shining with a mix of amusement and relief.

“I was the one who promised not to let you trip… I’m sorry.” he said.

“I was distracted.” you explained.

“Me too.”

The sequence returned to the beginning, the steps almost already memorized.

The melody calms down, and as the song approaches the end, you feel a slight sadness, a reluctance for the moment to end. Baekhyun pulled you a little closer, and the intensity of his gaze made you feel as if time could become infinite.

When the music finally stopped, they both walked away a little, breathing heavily and their hearts still beating quickly. He removed his hand from your back immediately, but the one holding yours remained.

"Thanks for the dance, Baekhyun.”

He smiled again, a smile that seemed to know more than it let on.

"The pleasure is mine."

As you moved away from the center, you heard Captain Chanyeol's voice approaching, along with another man. Baekhyun's hand suddenly squeezed yours.

“Good evening, miss.” he said to you, smiling. Dimples appeared on his face. “Captain, the president of the music group who will be on board.”

Your eyes widened, feeling your heart speed up.

Captain? Was Baekhyun the captain?

You felt heat rise to your face, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. He had introduced himself in such a simple way, without any mention of his position, that you also took the liberty of treating him without apparatus.

He greeted the man, releasing your hand.

"Captain...?" you murmured, more to yourself than to him, but his gaze fell on you as soon as he let go of the man's hand.

Baekhyun allowed himself to smile, a light but controlled expression. He hadn't introduced himself properly so as not to cause you more hesitation, or shyness, and because it really wasn't important at the moment.

"Yes." he said. "But I prefer Baekhyun. Captain only during duty hours.” He winked before giving a curt nod. “And it seems that the service calls. I hope to see you soon for a second dance, though.”

Without thinking, you just nodded yes.

And with that, he smiled and followed the other two men to the back of the room, his expression slightly more serious. What would it be like to see him in uniform?

Stop, silly!

He didn't want to leave you so soon. He had fun dancing like he hadn't had fun in months. Dancing had that effect on him, especially waltzes.

Waltzes were a tradition that the company maintained to preserve the classic charm of the experience, something that looked good in slogans and advertisements, but in reality, few passengers knew how to dance like they used to. They were now just a warm-up for the following songs, later in the night, of modern beats, which pulsed in an irregular, almost disconcerting way, with chaotic and intense rhythms that seemed to tune out the rhythm of his immortal—but eternally of good taste—heart.

By that moment, he would have retreated further into a corner, trying to ignore the modern cacophony.

The conversation with the director didn't take long. Some basic questions about the presence of the musical group on board, very brief technical details and a more personal presentation about each of the artists.

Baekhyun tried to look interested, but he already knew everything he needed to about them. The rest, the logistics and security personnel took care of. Age was beginning to weigh on him as he had to deal with things he didn't need to.

Chanyeol, however, seemed to be enchanted by one of the artists. The questions came and went, more flirtatious than actually work related—in 1500 years of friendship, he had never heard Chanyeol take as much interest in the strings of a bandolin as he does now.

The imposing melody of Blue Danube woke him from his reverie. A classic that never goes out of style, even though it's not the same to listen to the recording and live. He looked back at the dance floor, looking for you.

He didn't see you anywhere. He stretched his neck, looking for you in the corners. You seemed to have a preference for them…

Contrary to your observation, you danced well, loose and fluid, responding perfectly to his movements. Your hand rested on his shoulder, light but firm, while your arm rested gently on his. You twirled with grace, following him around the track without losing your balance, and he felt every accelerated pulse of your heart against his chest. It was delicious torture.

Every dance movement, every light touch you exchanged, was an internal battle to not give in to the desire to have you closer. And even with all his experience, your presence destabilized him in a way he hadn't anticipated.

He wanted more. And he promised you that.

He felt an elbow on his ribs, and he looked to his left, Chanyeol looking at him with a knowing smile.

“Go there and ask the lonely maiden to dance.” teased Chanyeol, with a playful smile on his lips. “She's waiting for you near the bar. But if you take too long, I might invite her myself…” The sparkle in his eyes was unmistakable, always ready to instigate, test Baekhyun's limits, as only Chanyeol knew how to do.

Baekhyun gave him a warning look before slowly turning around. The thought of seeing Chanyeol spinning you around the track made him act faster than he would like to admit.

It had always been like this between the two: teasing, sarcasm, but a deep complicity that transcended any words. Chanyeol was the only person with whom Baekhyun could be himself, the only one who knew every dark detail of his existence. They shared a long history, marked by moments of mutual salvation. Chanyeol had been there on countless occasions when Baekhyun had almost succumbed to his wilder, more destructive side. Without him, Baekhyun feared that his decline would have already led to irreversible disasters.

He also knew that his friend was always attentive, especially at times like this—in a place full of people. Chanyeol made a point of keeping him grounded, especially now, when the presence of someone as… tempting as you was around.

Maybe that was the real reason behind Chanyeol's joke—to distract him, to help him maintain control over his mind. He was Baekhyun's balance, the firm rope that kept him from falling into the abyss of his own nature.

But him dancing with you? Hell no!

That would be a disaster for his heart. Chanyeol had a charm that was very difficult to resist.

“Relax.” Chanyeol added, patting him friendly on the shoulder. The two ladies in the artist group laughed. “You don't need to bite. Come on, do your part. Promised is due, and I am more one to bite than to twirl.”

Baekhyun laughed at the pun.

“You lack chivalry.” he said.

“It wasn't necessary. They were happy enough when I sat serenading them.”

Baekhyun didn't look back this time.

His eyes searched for you, and there you were, near the bar with a glass of something orange. He hesitated for a moment, watching you from a distance. There was a quiet beauty about you, a serenity that contrasted with the brightness of the party. Maybe that was what attracted him—that aura of someone who seemed to be in a world apart, immersed in something that others couldn't see.

The slow steps guided him to you. A part of Baekhyun couldn't help it: your blood called to him. He knew it smelled delicious, sweet and filled with deep emotions.

It wasn't just the physicality that attracted him—you were breathtaking, really!—but the complexity of what you felt, which made every beat of your heart an irresistible invitation. And despite the sweetness, he knew there was something bitter mixed in. Emotions like sadness, anguish, or perhaps loneliness, filtered into the blood, making it richer, more seductive.

Containing his predatory impulses, Baekhyun stopped a few steps away from you and, with a controlled smile, asked you to dance again.

“I think I owe you a dance, miss.”

Your eyes lit up with a brief hesitation just like the first time, but you accepted. When your fingers touched his hand, he felt the familiar wave of desire rise through his body, but he quickly pushed it away.

He needed to keep himself grounded.

The eyes fell on you again. He couldn't be less bothered, but you seemed to be embarrassed by the sudden attention.

“Does it bother you about the envy on their faces or the attention you attract because you are so beautiful?” he asked, eyes on yours.

The blush that passed through you through the stages did not escape his attentive gaze. He tried not to laugh, but he couldn't contain it. He moved his hand to your ribs, his fingertips now brushing the bone of your spine.

Your lack of reaction made him realize that perhaps he had gone too far. He didn't want to push you away or make you shy. He wanted to see you laugh again.

It was like your every laugh still echoed in him, awakening a primal desire to protect you and a pride that tingled in his fangs. Baekhyun forced himself to contain the impulse. He fought against thirst, against the hunger that had been growing in the last few days.

“Sorry." He murmured, with a hoarse voice and his gaze fixed on yours.

“It’s fine.” you replied, smiling. “I’m not used to so much attention, that’s all.”

He tilted his head, his smile softening his features. “Then let’s pretend no one else is here.”

For a brief moment, it seemed as if the world had truly disappeared around you.

The urge to pull you closer, to feel your warm skin beneath his lips, was almost uncontrollable. The thought of whispering your name before erasing any memory of what was about to happen tempted him terribly.

You were smiling. An infectious smile that Baekhyun couldn't help but imitate. The sound of your racing heart filled his ears, each beat more tempting than the last. It was like a mesmerizing melody, calling him closer to danger.

But it took a moment. A fleeting distraction, small, but enough to break the spell that kept him contained. Suddenly, his head turned towards the bar, his heightened senses picking up something you hadn't yet noticed. A smell. An aroma that tore through his control with the ferocity of a hungry beast.

So tempting… but he couldn't!

The desire to get closer, to feel the heat of your skin, to taste the sweetness that emanated from you was almost unbearable. He bit his lower lip, trying to push away the images that invaded his mind.

The barista, with a pained expression, threw a lemon cut in two into the trash while examining his bloody finger. The smell of blood invaded the room, subtle for anyone else, but for Baekhyun it was like a spark that ignites gunpowder.

In an instant, his heart sped up. The world around him seemed to lose focus, and his instincts took over. The scent of blood was like a drum echoing in his ears, his vision becoming blurred, and his gaze fixed on the bar. He twirled with you, but the movements were no longer smooth; his touch, once light and safe, became erratic, tense.

A familiar tremor began to be heard within him, a deep sound that vibrated through his chest, as if he were the one doing it. Then it began to climb up his throat, his mind becoming confused with how high pitched the scream promised to be, tearing through his dry, painful string.

His arm's grip on your waist loosened, and you, without the firm support of seconds before, stumbled slightly, almost falling backwards.

“Baekhyun!?” Yours echoed through the space, hitting the walls, the tables, the chairs, the chandelier, but it was still distant for him. But he couldn't ignore your soft groan of pain when you grabbed his shoulder tightly.

Quicker than awareness returning to him, Baekhyun slid his hand to your back, pulling you towards him in one swift movement. He held his breath, wide eyes still searching the ground as shock coursed through his body. He could still smell that blood—not the best, certainly, but enough to stop his hunger.

The touch of your skin, the closeness of your face, and your eyes—so alive with adrenaline, so bright under the hall light; in suffering—met his with an unexpected intensity.

You were the 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙮; and you were 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩.

The predatory instinct vanished, giving way to the pity that twisted his empty stomach.

“Hey!” He asked in the next instant, his gaze fixed on yours as you leaned on him and touched your heel. His throat burned with each word. “You got hurt…”

He watched you contort your face before smiling slightly.

“It's nothing.”

Baekhyun couldn't accept the realization. He swallowed a lot of saliva, trying to hide his fangs in his closed mouth.

No, I couldn't leave you there, injured, because of him.

“Let me help you get out of here.”

Chanyeol found you both on your way to the nearest table, his eyes worried, but Baekhyun didn't seem to notice, kneeling at your feet as he made sure of the extent of the damage caused by his own distraction.

“What happened?” he asked. “Are you okay, miss?”

Baekhyun followed the movement of your head, nodding, a slight smile on your lips. He would even believe it if he couldn't feel your heart skipping a beat every time he moved your ankle to the left.

“It was just a misstep-”

“I didn’t hold her properly.” Baekhyun said immediately, looking at Chanyeol finally.

Their eyes met, and no words were needed for them to understand each other. The smell of blood remained in the air, now mixed with a smell of alcohol and saline, but the effect was still there.

Chanyeol got a little closer, but Baekhyun felt the threat. He moved to the side, still on his knees, blocking Chanyeol with his own back.

You got hurt because of him. He was the one to take care of you, not Chanyeol.

“It’s not like I-” you start to speak, but he spoke up again.

“You did nothing wrong. You're a good dancer.” his voice was firm, holding your feet as if it was made of glass.

You swallowed hard, little tempted to counter. It was the truth, anyway.

Chanyeol took a step closer, putting a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder. He looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“I'll get you some ice, okay?” he says, still smiling. But the squeeze on Baekhyun's shoulder just made it clear that he knew what was going on.

The pain on Baekhyun's throat wasn't there anymore. All that remained now was the constant tremor of a low, deep roar on his chest, just above the diaphragm; and the need to do something for you.

He nodded, and as Chanyeol disapeared to the other side of the room towards the bar, he looked up at you again. You looked so beautiful under all those imitations of crystal chandeliers. Pink cheeks, the strands of hair that had already been loosened by the wind even more loose from the dance movements.

How could he be distracted, when you were right in front of him? He spent the whole night admiring you. And was your blood worth so little like the one from the bartender?

He was getting mad...

Along with the realization, the damn cacaphony began. Colourful lights illuminated the room as a man on a mix table began to speak before putting on his headphones. It seemed to awaken everyone from table conversations, and some passengers even ran to the dance floor.

He sighed discreetly—he would have a huge headache due to those spotlights; then, he noticed the light scent of discomfort coming from you.

He glanced up again, catching the discomfort in your expression. You sighed, not from the regret of missing the dance floor—though he couldn’t quite imagine you there, either—but from a different kind of unease. He couldn’t help but smile, a quiet understanding passing between you.

“Not a fan of this kind of music?” he asked, the faint amusement in his tone not lost on you.

You tilted your head thoughtfully.

“It’s not that I dislike it… it’s just too much noise, too many lights. Not my thing.”

He nodded.

“Would you like to go back to the cruise? I can accompany you.”

“Oh! There’s no need!” you replied, but your voice faltered slightly, betraying you. Then, a small smile crept onto your face. “Though… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to escape this…” you said, gesturing to the vibrant chaos of the ballroom. He chuckled.

“Noise pollution?” he teased, his smile growing as you shrugged.

“You said it.” you replied, smiling shyly.

Gently, he helped you with your shoe, slipping it back onto your foot before standing and offering his hand. As he led you through the exit, he made sure to keep Chanyeol out of sight. Baekhyun didn’t want anyone pushing you away from him—not now.

The chill of the night air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, and you shivered under the brisk wind.

He looked around, looking for the car that was assigned to transport him. Two pairs of bright lights lit up, and quickly a black car stopped in front of you.

A car took you to the harbour, stopping at the ship’s stairs. As you moved to step out, Baekhyun reached into the front seat and pulled out a crisp white coat and gently draped it over your shoulders. The fabric was heavier than you expected, and as you looked down, the insignias and name tag caught your eye—this wasn’t just any coat. It was his Captain's jacket.

He held back his smile when he saw you blush. You felt the warmth of his hands linger as he guided you inside, steadying you with a quiet presence that spoke louder than words. His hand settled respectfully on your back, but you could feel the subtle strength in his touch as he supported most of your weight up the stairs. Each step unhurried.

Reaching your cabin door, you fumbled with the card, eventually leaning against the frame. Baekhyun let you go.

"Thank you." you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your gaze drifted over to him, meeting his eyes. For a second, they glimmered with something he wasn't able to hide—a guarded warmth, an unspoken need.

He smiled, a gentle shrug lifting his shoulders. Words danced on his lips, wanting to spill out—a proposal, The proposal—but he held it back. He didn't want to scare you. Instead, he simply nodded.

"Anything you need, just let me know.”

You nodded.

You nodded, and he couldn't help himself but question if you could feel the quiet weight of his words.

"Okay. Thanks, really!" you replied, suddently distracted by the soft vibration of your phone.

Glancing at the screen, you caught a glimpse of a name with a heart beside it. Baekhyun’s gaze flickered to your phone too, just for a split second. You didn’t answer the message right away, though.

“Well… see you tomorrow!" you managed, forcing casualness. Baekhyun nodded, his lips curving in a faint smile, though his eyes were far away.

The door closed softly, and you were gone.

But Baekhyun stood there for a moment longer, staring at the empty space where you had been, the air still thick with your scent, your warmth. His thoughts spun, entangled with questions he couldn’t answer. Who were you? How had you managed to slip so effortlessly into his world, so precious yet so heartbreakingly alone?

He wanted to know you.

As the silence settled, a sharp, electric pang flared in his fangs, the ache tearing through his dry throat like fire.

He clenched his fists, feeling the sharp bite of his own control fraying at the edges. He knew he should leave, put as much distance between you and his growing hunger as possible. But you were close—so close he could still feel the warmth of your skin, still smell the lingering trace of your perfume. The temptation was maddening.

The shaking resumed, sounding like a small growling beast.

Inhaling deeply, he turned on his heel, willing himself to walk away before he lost control entirely.

Just as he was about to walk away, you opened the door again, your voice breaking the stillness.

“Baekhyun, your jacket!" you called, holding it in your hand.

He turned, his gaze meeting yours. Your hair had fallen loose, framing your face, and he could see the slight rise and fall of your chest, hear the quickened beat of your heart from rushing to catch him. The air thickened between you both—there was no turning back now.

His eyes softened, then darkened, as if caught in some ancient longing he didn’t quite understand. He moved forward, stopping just shy of touching you, his eyes locked on yours, his voice dropping to a murmur that wrapped around you like a whisper of velvet.

“Look at you… my sweet, sweet thing. The most precious I've seen in years, and you're alone." His voice softened, filled with a hint of reverence and an ache he couldn’t name. "How could anyone… not see you?”

Something in his words gripped you, pulling you toward him. Your heart raced faster, a warmth spreading in your chest as his eyes held you captive. The jacket slipped from your fingers, forgotten, as you reached out, your hand finding the edge of his knit sweater. You held onto it, steadying yourself, letting the warmth of him seep through the fabric. His thirst flared, sharp and relentless, yet a strange calm held him in place. For the first time in what felt like eternity, he felt… patient.

You leaned against him yourself, your breath a bit too fast, your heart beating at the same rhythm. You touched him first, his jacket falling on the floor as you grabbed his knit sweater. He felt thirsty, but something was different. He was in no rush.

Standing on tiptoe, your injured foot hanging slightly, you leaned in, lips brushing his cheek.

"You can do it" you whispered, a mix of trust and challenge in your voice.

His eyes widened, flickering with surprise before his expression darkened, shifting into something deeper, more primal.

He hesitated. The beast protested.

"That's the moment you say my nameeeee~" you hummed, and he inhaled exasperatedly.

He cradled your neck gently, as if afraid to break you, tilting your head just so. His lips brushed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. And with one last, shuddering breath, he whispered your name as he surrendered to his hunger.

The first taste of you was pure ecstasy—a bittersweet blend that brought him to life, flooding his senses with warmth and fire.

Your essence, rich and alive, filled him with a rush of emotions he hadn’t felt in decades. He felt the years of hidden sorrow and hope, the fragile resilience woven into every drop. Your hands gripped his arms, a quiet and ecstasy gasp leaving your lips, and he drew you closer, held you tighter, as if afraid you might vanish.

He couldn't stop.

But then, something in your touch changed—a weak tug, a small gasp that sounded almost like fear. He barely registered it, lost in the intoxicating pull of you, until–

You sagged against him, all strength leaving your body.

Reality slammed into him, jolting him from his trance. He pulled back, eyes wide, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you from collapsing.

Your skin was pale, your breathing shallow, your pulse… barely there. Horror twisted inside him as he looked at you, truly looked at you, lying limp in his arms.

The shaking in his chest stopped.

He found himself lost, savoring the taste of your blood still in his mouth.

What had he done?

He laid you gently on the bed, panic clawing at him as he stumbled back to shut the door. He returned to you, hands trembling, searching desperately for any sign of life, any flicker of warmth. But there was nothing. Only a cold, unnerving silence.

"No…" he whispered, voice breaking. This couldn’t be happening. He hadn’t meant to go this far. “No, no, no, no!”

Desperation took over, and he bit into his wrist, feeling the sharp sting as he tore the skin. Blood pooled, rich and dark, and he held it over your lips, letting three heavy drops fall, each one a plea, a promise. The thick red drops slid past your parted lips, disappearing into the silence.

He knelt beside you, breath held, his own heart pounding as he waited. The seconds stretched, each one heavier than the last. He could hear his own ragged breathing, his mind swirling with regret, dread, and a glimmer of impossible hope.

What if you never woke up? What if he had ruined everything in a single moment of weakness? He leaned over you, fingers brushing your cheek as he searched for any sign—any flicker of response.

The morning sky stretched wide and endless, a muted blue broken only by soft clouds trailing across the horizon. Baekhyun and Chanyeol stood silently at the helm, watching the port dissolve behind them as the ship drifted toward open waters. They had left the shore far enough behind that the sounds of the world had dulled to a whisper, and only the calls of the seagulls lingered, fading with every passing minute.

Down below, passengers waved handkerchiefs and hands, faces alight with excitement for the journey ahead. But Baekhyun’s gaze didn’t stray to the crowd. He was drawn to you, standing alone at the railing, a vision of life and light, your camera raised to capture the farewell. Your face was bright, the morning sun painting you in hues of gold, and you spoke softly into the lens, your voice and smile warm as you preserved the moment in time.

You were radiant, steady, and full of life—a version of you more at peace than he had ever seen.

Yet, as Baekhyun watched, he felt a weight sink into his chest. There was a part of you that now belonged to him, a quiet connection, an unbreakable thread woven between your souls.

His mark on you was invisible, but unmistakable—your skin gleamed with new vitality, your movements fluid with confidence, and there was an unmistakable calm within you.

But Baekhyun felt none of that peace. He could feel his own pulse, strained and uneasy, every muscle tense as he took in the sight of you—his heart was beating because of want he’s done to you. In giving you a part of himself, he had altered something pure and untouched within you, a gift he neither intended to give nor was proud of.

Watching you now, he knew he couldn’t undo it. You would carry that fragment of him forever, and the thought was as exhilarating as it was crushing.

Beside him, Chanyeol finally broke the silence.

He’d seen Baekhyun like this before, months ago, when the weight of his choices seemed too great for even him to bear. But the look in Baekhyun’s eyes was different now, a raw and silent longing tempered by something close to grief.

Chanyeol placed a hand on the railing, his voice soft yet steady.

“You might not like hearing this, Baekhyun… but you’re old.” he murmured, glancing at Baekhyun before looking back toward you. “And what you did…” he hesitated, his tone growing solemn “…she might get just as mad as you.”

Baekhyun’s eyes finally left you, meeting Chanyeol’s gaze with a mixture of exhaustion and determination. There was no room for denial now, no deflection or escape. The centuries he’d spent, the weight of his years, had worn on him, carved grooves into his soul that he could no longer ignore. A lifetime of restraint, of hiding his true self, had left him alone, forever a stranger on the edge of others’ lives. But now, with you, he’d crossed that line. And he couldn’t take it back.

“I’ll take care of her.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, though resolute.

Chanyeol studied him for a long moment, a quiet understanding in his eyes.

“I hope..” he replied slowly, his words a gentle warning “...that you can take care of yourself first.”

The ship’s horn sounded, a deep, resonant call that rippled across the water, as if echoing the weight of Baekhyun’s unspoken fears.

Yet in that moment, the distance between him and the shore, between you and him, felt wider than the sea itself. He wondered if he could bear it, if he could truly hold himself together when everything he wanted was just out of reach, sailing further from him with each passing second.

As he looked back toward you, a soft breeze lifted your hair, carrying it gently over your shoulders. You lowered the camera and turned looking up to the control room, catching his gaze, your expression soft, searching, as if you too felt the silent tension between you—even though you didn't know why.

The corners of your lips lifted in a quiet smile, one filled with questions, trust, and a quiet, unspoken understanding.

Baekhyun’s heart twisted as he nodded, forcing a faint smile in return. There were so many things he wanted to say, words that sat heavy on his tongue, words of apology, of desire, of regret. But he knew they would only complicate things, only deepen the fragile bond between you.

Instead, he turned back to the helm, gripping the wheel as though it were the only thing anchoring him to the present.

He knew he would take care of you. But he also knew that in doing so, he might be forever lost.

masterlist

[zekoagun]

hm, i guess that newts weird reddit atheism in the book seems less like irvine is coming out of nowhere with it if it sits in comparison with hermanns faith in numbers, lol

[celesteleoves]

hcs of bakugou / todoroki being a hardcore simp for reader maybe?

“I WANNA BE YOURS.”

KATSUKI BAKUGOU/SHOTO TODOROKI x fem!reader.

summary: what the request said!

warnings: swearing (bakugou…), mentions of todoroki’s childhood (very brief), that’s it i believe!

a/n: i love this request. i hope i wrote this to your liking!

—

BAKUGOU KATSUKI —

he is a very subtle simp. you probably wouldn’t even think he liked you if you guys weren’t already dating. the way he shows his love for you is… questionable.

he does the simple things like following you around like a lost puppy (even though he swears he does NOT) .

he’ll definitely demand you never leave his side so he can always be there to protect you.

“you’re so weak, you need me to be there to protect you at all times.”

you’ll just nod, enjoying your boyfriends presence. (he’s actually geeking over you aswell and the fact you grace him with your presence).

he takes you everywhere with him and doesn’t care about what anyone says. oh, aizawa paired him up with kirishima? you’re coming with. you can’t stay a second away from him before he’s rushing around like a headless chicken looking for you.

your biggest fan by far, anything you do he’s practically on the floor worshipping you. then the next second he’ll be calling your outfit disgusting in the sweetest way possible.

he’ll also deny the fact he’s a simp for you. one time, kirishima caught the poor boy gazing at you, dare i say LOVINGLY, across the room as you did a mundane task.

kirishima has never grinned wider than he did when he noticed this. your boyfriend noticed the quiet chuckles leaving his friend and turned towards him.

“what the fuck are you laughing at?”

“you stalking y/n!”

“I WAS NOT STARING AT HER.” sure… liar. you literally just outed yourself…

bakugou loved you, even though he shows it in his weird, weird ways.

SHOTO TODOROKI —

the sweetest, sweetest boyfriend ever. literally the ideal boyfriend anyone could have SIMPLY because of how doting he is towards his partner.

he’s absolutely enamoured with you. he isn’t shameful about it either! (referencing one of my other head-canons) .

this boy will downright show his love for you.

we all know shoto has a hard time with social cues, he blames it on his childhood and the lack of social times he had – always being isolated.

that’s also the reason why he doesn’t understand why he can’t stare you down like a hawk and not expect people to be slightly worried… why is he staring at you like he wants to eat you?

cuteness aggression is a thing. you both get it when you’re with each other.

you can’t believe you managed to secure this boy. he never opened up to just anyone, yet for you he made an exception. you flew that all the time.

meanwhile your boyfriend is still in denial you two are dating. every time you bring up your realtionship he’s blushing like a maniac and shying away from you.

your classmates notice the little things. such as you placing your phone face up only for it to be face down a couple seconds later because todoroki fixed it for you knowing you don’t want people staring at every notification on your phone (this is so me guys i’m sorry).

he is very attentive, he’s such a simp. he’ll pick up on the little things. sometimes, you feel like he knows you better than you know yourself.

there was definitely one time you had been making yourself a snack in the kitchen, forgetting to get one of your favourite piece of food for the snack .

once your snack was made, you frowned at the missing piece of your food you wanted.

starting to get upset, you looked around for something to make up for this.

“here.” a soft voice spoke causing you to relax at the sound of todorokis gentle tone.

“i can’t find my-”

“y/n. here.”

you looked at your boyfriends hand, noticing he was holding multiple variations of the missing food item you craved.

your lips trembled at his thoughtfulness and you pulled your boyfriend in for a hug as he returned it with a soft smile on his face.

he’s too sweet for you and such a simp!

—

a/n: guys, bare with me if there is spelling errors. this was not proof-read! i hope this was good enough, it was kind of short.

SEND REQUESTS! 🤍🤍

[superiorsturgeon]

out of curiosity, why do you like sturgeons so much?

A chance to info dump about my favorite fish…?!

I grew up in the Great Lakes area of North America, where fishing is pretty popular but everyone knows that fish populations aren’t anything like “the good old days” when people took out huge numbers of fish while messing up their spawning sites. I got pretty into fishing when I found out that I could catch bluegill in the surrounding farm ponds, and once in a while my family took me to an isolated fishing cabin for vacation, but for years I never encountered a wild fish bigger than a kilogram or two.

BUT THEN…

I found out about sturgeon! They were HUGE fish that had once lived in the rivers and lakes all around my home, and better yet, fish almost exactly like modern sturgeon had existed all the way back in the Cretaceous period alongside the dinosaurs, and they STILL EXIST TODAY!!! The fact that small numbers of these huge dinosaur fish still existed made them seem almost like a real-life lake monster/cryptid, except that we had proof of their existence!

Furthermore, there’s just nothing else like them. Sturgeon get big. Like, REALLY big. The record for the largest sturgeon was almost 11 meters/24 feet long, which is colossal for freshwater animals. They have armor plates of bone running down their sides, and at the same time they don’t have bony skeletons. They also have a crazy mouth structure, which allows them to actually pop their jaws out like a tube and suck up food. And on top of all of this, the adults are absolute tanks. I’ve seen skin nearly 8mm thick, and it’s so tough that people make leather out of it, and they occasionally lose fins or even entire gill plates and just keep on swimming! (I found out about that last one when I tried to wrestle a big female out of a river and my hand went straight into her gills. She didn’t seem that bothered by it!)

For a long time I filed sturgeon along with Alligator Gar, Giant Mekong catfish, and Yangtze paddlefish as a semi-legendary fish that may still exist, but I was never going to see except possibly in an aquarium, until I enrolled in graduate school. For those unfamiliar with grad school in the US, it typically involves both high-level classes as well as an independent research project the student designs and carries out with help from an experienced professor. When my mentor asked what kind of thing I wanted to study, I tossed out “sturgeon” as one such possibility, expecting to hear that I would probably have to limit myself to more common/accessible species.

I was blown away when she said “Actually, I think I know a guy…”

For the next several years, I got to ride along collecting wild adult sturgeon, gathering eggs, and raising the baby fish in a lab and in a hatchery. I was holding something that I had thought of as a semi-mythical lake/river monster in my own hands! I got to see a river choked with giants as big as 2 meters long, and I got to hold a 5-centimeters mottled baby whose armored scutes were still sharp and possessed the little arrowhead shape and big black pectoral fins that remind me of Mickey Mouse ears! In the video below you can even see a little heartbeat! (Don’t worry, this little guy was returned to the tank soon after to recover from his anesthesia!)

Sadly, I didn’t find anything super groundbreaking in my research, but my experience DID land me a job working in sturgeon aquaculture! If you’ve ever had caviar that wasn’t poached, it probably came from a sturgeon farm, and if you want to see a lot of big fish up close, this is a good place to do it! I probably personally handled more individual sturgeon than there are wild fish in several sturgeon species. In addition, while the wild broodstock I mentioned above might reach 2 meters and over 50kg, the sturgeon I dealt with at the farm would easily double that, and there were a LOT of them! I got to see sturgeon behavior that had never been recorded in field guides, and even a few crazy one-in-a-million mutations like the infamous “ghost” sturgeon!

I even got the opportunity to cook my own sturgeon meat (Yeah, I basically turned into the Touden siblings from Dungeon Meshi except for sturgeon instead of RPG monsters). I got pretty good at making smoked sturgeon, but the meat is also good on the grill or baked, and people have been cooking them in various ways for centuries.

My favorite part of the job was physically wrestling the big fish! Sturgeon are easier to grab than other fish with the right know-how, but a human-sized fish often has its own plans for the day and won’t always cooperate. I was pretty good at moving the adults by the time I left that job, but it was still a wild rodeo every time!

Even more exciting was how we spawned each new generation of sturgeon. In the wild, they form massive spawning runs in big rivers that in the past would be enough to tip small boats, but in a lab or farm we have to use other means. I’ll spare you the details, but I am one of a small number of people who have surgically extracted eggs from a live sturgeon and sutured them back up to swim another day.

The tldr of this essay is that sturgeon are a big, crazy-unique fish that have been around a long time, and I’ve spent a lot of my career handling and working with them. There’s just nothing like them for a fish nerd and they’re damn cool!

(Clip art not mine, I think @sturgeonposting drew or shared it!)

[endearng]

Third time's the charm

Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader Summary: During one of your movie nights with Spencer, you decide to, once again, take the lead. Or, you got cockblocked so often that you almost thought it wouldn't happen. WC: 3.1k Warnings: smut (nipple play and dry humping); reader thinks spencer might be asexual but he's just a shy puppy; they are desperate for each other; "ruined" movie night; virgin!Spencer my beloved. (I guess that's it. If I forgot something, please let me know!) A/N: Aaaand here it is! I didn't think I'd write smut so soon, hehe. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it - it's actually a sequel to Dearest friend, but can be read as a stand-alone. Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 Masterlist

"It’s nice we finally have some time for each other," you hummed in agreement. "Thanks for coming over," Spencer said.

"You don't have to thank me," you said, sitting down on his couch after placing the drinks you chose from his fridge on the coffee table. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you confessed. It got him blushing.

Spencer started one of your movies. It was your choice: you usually took turns picking out a movie to watch together whenever you had the chance, since neither of you were keen of going out that often and you didn't have much time outside of work. It was a fun opportunity to know more of each other through your personal taste, since he often chose foreign films about humanities and you, well, you made him watch Easy A, which got him talking about Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter.

After the movies, you would talk to each other about it, maybe mentioning a personal experience that you remembered thanks to a particular scene or a character's arch. Maybe you would kiss.

Which was a problem. Well, not a problem, but, you see, you didn't have much time together other than going to each other's houses and out on a few dates, which were your favorite: Spencer often found the most beautiful, cozy places to take you, like coffee shops, museums, bookshops and libraries, followed by a nice dinner at a local restaurant. It was during one of those dates that something gave him the nerve to touch your hand. Holding hands quickly escalated to having his hands around you at all times possible, and it got to the point where you nearly had to peel off of him when he got too comfortable and you sadly had to leave to do something. These moments of physical touch were making you go insane, thinking about making a bolder move on him, but you thought that maybe he wasn't ready. Plus the fact that you seemed to be interrupted whenever things got too heated.

If you had a nickel for everytime you and Spencer had to stop right before you got intimate (in any way, really), you'd have two nickels, which isn't much, but it's weird that it happened twice. It was like the universe (more like Hotch and the gore that surrounded the team) were set on a mission for you to never have sex again. Besides that, more extreme thoughts plagued your mind and told you that maybe he wasn’t attracted to you like that. It often made you go home feeling a little bit insecure.

You knew that it was better to assume, but you were only human. After some pep talk with yourself on the way to his place, you convinced yourself that you would have to have this conversation with him, sooner or later. You thought so hard about this that you even came up with the possibility that he was asexual — you were fine with it if he was, obviously, because being with him made you feel whole. Still, you wanted, you needed to get this off your chest before you exploded with assumptions and unrequited feelings. Unrequited desire.

You decided to try to be subtle. Scratching the back of his head with your nails lovingly, you both watched the movie. "What are you doing?" He asked, looking at you. You could see the goosebumps on his arm, that must have been the trigger for the question coming out of his lips. You gave him a soft smile.

"It's called affection, pretty boy," you kissed the tip of his nose. "And I don't intend on stopping anytime soon."

You kissed his left cheek when he turned to look at the TV screen.

Then, you turned his head gently to kiss the right one. He glanced between your eyes and your lips, so of fucking course you were about to kiss him, but you decided to tease him a little and pecked the tip of his nose and gently kissed his forehead instead. He breathed out a laugh. Ticklish. It made you wonder where else he would be sensitive.

Stop, you slut of a brain.

When you were about to kiss his lips, you withdrew your face from his, smooching his cheek instead. He sighed, oblivious to your real intentions, impatient and utterly, stupidly in love with you.

Oops. There goes your heart. Out the window. Taking your judgment with it.

"Spence?"

"Yes?"

"Can I do something?"

"Yes," he answered. "You know can do anything, baby."

"This is a very dangerous thing to say to a girl who has the feelings I have for you," you said, grinning. His expression morphed into one that almost looked like sheer panick.

You slowly moved to straddle his lap, giving him plenty of time to stop you if he wanted to, his legs trapped between yours. You sat yourself on the top of his thighs. He watched every movement feeling like the world stopped and there were the both of you, moving in slow motion, movie long forgotten behind you. His breath hitched when he came to his senses and noticed the position you were in, now that you've done what you had. "Is this okay? It's more comfortable than kissing you like… well, that," you laughed softly.

"Yes. I-It's perfect," he breathed out, hands finding your waist.

You lips finally met his in a kiss that had both of you sighing. You found out that Spencer was a really good kisser — and you were proud to be the one with whom he practiced kissing to perfection —, your lips easily falling into a passionate rhythm. Gasping for air, you pecked him on those perfect lips that were red and puffy from all the assaulting you were doing, but he quickly pulled you in for another, this time, sloppier than ever, encouraged by your own boldness. He was french kissing you. Fairly used to it, but not with the intensity of it, you groaned in welcomed surprise, hands finding the nape of his neck and getting a grip on them, not so gently as you normally did. You pulled his hair down, breaking the kiss, lips tingling and lungs screaming for air. He smirked, feeling smug at the state he left you in.

You rose slightly from his lap, still holding his head and looking straight into his eyes. By holding yourself slightly above him, the pendant of your necklace grazed his chin, like he had imagined many times after watching you fiddle with it. God, it was finally coming true, having you in his arms and intending to let you do whatever you wanted to him and him only, the way that it should be ever since the day you met. You nearly made him go insane, pulling you closer to his body than you ever were, acting like a desperate madman. You smiled down at him and kissed him again, more feverishly than before, trying to tell him through that kiss that you were his. Biting his lower lip and earning a fucking moan, you sat yourself down on him again. You felt his bulge against your clothed core and the light contact made you feel lightheaded.

You were so caught up on him that it almost made you forget you needed to talk to him first. Unfortunately, as you tried to catch your breath and to find the right words to speak, Spencer felt his insecurities creeping up on him. Despite knowing it would be best to talk to you, he felt like voicing it out loud would push you away from him — which he didn't want. He was very comfortable with the indecent small distance between your bodies.

He was fidgety. You knew you needed to address this because your boyfriend wasn't the best at voicing his needs — you remember and giggled internally at how you had been the one to knock on Spencer's door asking him to put an end to your suffering by telling him how you felt. Heh. Kudos to you.

"I wanted to talk about this with you," you murmured, now feeling his kisses peppering the skin of your neck. You knew how much he was hiding from you because he wouldn't stop moving and it was very distracting, but if you didn't speak, it would be the end of you. "I'd ask if you were okay with me and you like this, about taking further steps, shit." You moaned when he fucking bit you and kissed you right after.

He pulled away from you, hands flying up to the back of your head. Foreheads touching, eyes locked in yours. "I want it. I want you, I mean. Been wanting you for some time now—a very long time, yes." He strongly shut his eyes closed, most likely working up the courage to say something. "But I don't want to... disappoint you," he finished, sounding insecure.

Not on your watch.

"Me too, Spence. God, I want you so bad," you answered, unable to look away from him, who now looked down, paying close attention to the rising and falling of your chest. "Hey, look at me, please," you pleaded. His eyes met yours. Oh, those maddening eyes... "Believe me when I tell you, baby, I want you. And if you don't want to do anything, you don't have to. I won't push you, of course. I just wanted to have a conversation with you before, because setting boundaries is important and consent is hot—" he laughed quietly. Making jokes was your go-to way of making situations lighter and he was glad for it then. You smiled when you noticed the sound he made. "And I'm also positively certain that you wouldn't like to have our first time on your couch."

"My first time," he revealed. softly. Eyes not meeting yours.

Oh.

You didn’t falter. "It doesn't change much, baby. I still stand for what I just told you," you assured him, "I want you to enjoy yourself, Spence."

Looking back into your eyes, he declared, "And I want you."

"You can have me," you answered, "You already have."

"You'd need to guide me. You know, hands-on activity. Because I’ve never done it before…" he trailed off.

"Lucky for you, I'm great at teaching."

His grip finds your waist, lips anxiously waiting for yours — and when they touched to mold perfectly in another breathtaking kiss, he felt complete. Like nothing bad could ever happen in the world just because you were in it. His past, his insecurities, the awful things you both saw on the field, nothing mattered. Looking at you, touching you, was a nearly an out of body experience. The things you got him thinking by just kissing him. And he thought his insecurities would get the best of him. Jokes on them, you exist.

You look at him through hooded eyes. "I've never felt like this before. I feel... tingly," he confessed, lovely smile on his face, eyes blinking.

"You're feeling good, handsome," you answered, glancing at his dazed eyes.

A beat of silence. Swallowing second thoughts. "Can you make it better?"

"Is that a request or a challenge?" You asked, grinning.

"A request." He answered shyly, hiding his face on your neck, peppering kisses on your skin. You were going to explode.

"Oh, don't talk to me like that," you shivered, feeling absolutely lost, "I might spoil you and give you everything you want," you sighed.

"Let me have it, then," he answered, voice muffled by your skin.

"I'm all yours, Spencer."

He had the audacity of blushing as his fingers played with the hem of your shirt. You smiled at him. In this state, if he asked for you to run naked around town, you probably would. It was dangerous, to say the least. Softly, yet desperate, the words left his lips. "Can I take this off?" He sucked in a breath. "Please?"

"Yes, pretty boy, you can," you answered. "You can have anything. I thought I already said that."

"Yes—You did. You did," he breathed out between needy kisses across your skin, getting rid of your shirt in no time.

At first, he was mesmerized by the sight in front of him. He hadn't seen many naked (or semi-naked) women in front of him, but you were something out of this world. The bra you were wearing matched your skin tone and pushed your breasts together and there was the fucking necklace, almost mocking him by being constantly so close, too close to the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. The view was almost overwhelming by itself. You looked at him, but he couldn't possibly come up with the words that would describe you in that moment. Words had failed him, nothing else in his mind but you. The tool he used to communicate, to access the world and how it shaped reality, to comprehend the mind of another person, to get to know others... He had nothing left. Except from the pulsing of his boner against your clothed pussy, that is.

Just like that, IQ of 187 slashed to 60, Emily Prentiss said, once. Funnily enough, when you passed by wearing a sundress.

Unable to talk but, oh, so able to use his hands, they traveled up to your breasts with a featherlight touch, which didn't stop him from feeling your heartbeat. He let his hands trail over the soft and sheer fabric of the bra you were wearing. Finding your nipples, his touch got more intense. He licked his lips. His actions made you shudder and sent a spark of excitement to your sex. "Pretty," he said. "So, so pretty, my girl."

"Do you like it?" You asked, breathless from a little touching. Pathetic. "I got these thinking of you. Wanna look pretty for you, Spence."

"You are," he said, looking into your eyes, his own foggy, hands reaching to touch your neck. "You're pretty all the time, it's so unfair to me," he murmured. "I really like them on you, but… can I take ‘em off?"

"Yes. You can do anything, Spence."

Spencer wanted to burn the sight of you, in that slightly disheveled state, in the back of his mind so he could remember it forever — not that he would have a hard time trying to remember anything. Nevertheless, he did everything so slowly, almost as if trying to tattoo on the tip of his fingers the softness and temperature of your skin. He inhaled deeply, consumed by your floral-scented perfume and lifted his hands to unclasp your bra. His fingers curiously, but unhurriedly, lowered each of the straps. Like opening a gift that had been so carefully wrapped he didn't want to ruin.

But did he wanted to be ruined by you.

The sight of your bare chest was marvelous, to say the least, and he timidly grazed his fingertips against the exposed area, eliciting goosebumps and a soft whine. His mouth watered, thoughts simply reduced to the need of having you in his mouth. The striped pattern on the soft skin of your breasts around your nipples were faint, barely there, unless if you took a close look at it. It goes without saying that he was blatantly gazing at your bosom at this point.

Pupils dilated, he looked up at you, hungrily, drawing his face closer to you, curls tickling the skin of your collarbone. He inhaled your scent, mind blanking. Tortuously dragging his lips on your skin (and unintentionally smearing some of his saliva on you, he was drooling, after all) as a silent request, the necklace brushing his forehead slightly. The grind of your hips against his answered his plead to taste you.

"Oh—you're so, so good to me, princess," you moaned when he finally wrapped his lips against the nub, playing with the other.

You felt almost overwhelmed with the attention you were getting and the reaction you were having to said attention. Your underwear was sticking almost uncomfortably against your core and you felt yourself aching for some relief, aching for him. So, as Spencer worked his hot tongue on your tits, licking, softly biting, sucking, making a mess on and of you, you busied yourself by chasing the relief you both desperately wanted. The solace it provided you both with was exhilarating and made you feel dazed.

Steadily rocking yourself against him, you earned a few grunts. "You're making a mess of me, pretty boy," you murmured as he switched his attention to the other boob.

"Give it t'me—I want it, I deserve it," he breathed out, body aching with lust, cock pulsing against your covered clit. His words only fueled the fire inside you, the coil in your lower stomach threatening to snap at anytime now.

"Yeah, you do, my boy," you breathed out, pulling the hair on the nape of his neck, nearly tasting your orgasm, "gonna look so pretty when you come for me, won't you, baby?" Both hands gripping your hips, mouth never leaving your skin. You sure would be bruised by tomorrow, but this, this was definitely worth it.

"Yes—Yes, I will," He whined. He fucking whined.

"Tell, me—ah—where do you want to cum, baby?"

"Shit—" until then, you were sure that was a word you'd never hear him saying, let alone that freely. "Gonna—Shitshitshit," moaning out your name.

That's when it hit you that he had cummed his pants. It was such a fat load that it had seeped through both his underwear and his slacks — which prompted you to reach your own high with a moan of his name directly into his ear.

Both of you feeling dizzy, you slump against him, feeling his arms wrapping your frame as you rested your head on his shoulder. You both took deep breaths, the only sound in the room. Well, besides the movie you both totally ignored.

"I can't get up right now... My legs feel wobbly," you chuckled. "Are you okay, Spence?" You asked, looking at him when you didn't get an answer.

"Yeah, 'm fine," he answered, "I mean, I'll be fine as soon as I recover from you."

You laughed sincerely, "From me? What have I done to you?"

"You gave me what I wanted, you spoiled me, you broke me," he said, a silly smile adorning his pretty face. You pushed him playfully. "I can't even explain what I'm feeling right now. My brain has stopped working ever since you straddled me. Are you trying to kill me?"

"No, babe."

"Wrong answer. You're so gonna keep doing that to me, so you'll definitely be trying to killing me from now on." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

[astronicht]

Okay I'm almost done with Fellowship, here's an incomplete list of shit I noticed and thought was buck fucking wild on my first ever read-thru: medieval edition.

In literally the second line of the book, Tolkien implies that Bilbo Baggins wrote a story which was preserved alongside the in-universe version of the Mabinogion (aka the best-known collection of Welsh myths; I promise this is batshit). This is because The Hobbit has been preserved, in Tolkien's AU version of our world, in a "selection of the Red Book of Westmarch" (Prologue, Concerning Hobbits). If you're a medievalist and you see something called "The Red Book of" or "The Black Book of" etc it's a Thing. In this case, a cheeky reference to the Red Book of Hergest (Llyfr Coch Hergest). There are a few Red Books, but only Hergest has stories).

not a medieval thing but i did not expect one common theory among hobbits for the death of Frodo's parents to be A RUMORED MURDER-SUICIDE.

At the beginning of the book a few hobbits report seeing a moving elm tree up on the moors, heading west (thru or past the Shire). I mentioned this in another post, but another rule: if you see an elm tree, that's a Girl Tree. In Norse creation myth, the first people were carved from driftwood by the gods. Their names were Askr (Ash, as in the tree), the first man, and Embla (debated, but likely elm tree), the first woman. A lot of ppl have I think guessed that that was an ent-wife, but like. Literally that was a GIRL. TREE.

Medieval thing: I used to read the runes on the covers of The Hobbit and LOTR for fun when I worked in a bookshop. There's a mix of Old Norse (viking) and Old English runes in use, but all the ones I've noticed so far are real and readable if you know runes.

Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you once spent months of your life researching the early medieval art of galdor, which was the use of poems or songs to do a form of word-magic, often incorporating gibberish. If you think maybe Tolkien did not base the entirety of Fellowship so far around learning and using galdor and thus the power of words and stories, that is fine I cannot force you. He did personally translate "galdor" in Beowulf as "spell" (spell, amusingly, used to mean "story"). And also he named an elf Galdor. Like he very much did name an elf Galdor.

Tom Bombadil in fact does galdor from the moment we meet him. He arrives and fights the evil galdor (song) of the willow tree ("old gray willow-man, he's a mighty singer"), which is singing the hobbits to sleep and possibly eating them, with a galdor (song) of his own. Then he wanders off still singing, incorporating gibberish. I think it was at this point that I started clawing my face.

THEN Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you've read the description of the scop's songs in Beowulf (Beowulf again, but hey, Tolkien did famously a. translate it b. write a fanfiction about it called Sellic Spell where he gave Beowulf an arguably homoerotic Best Friend). The scop (pronounched shop) is a poet who sings about deeds on earth, but also by profession must know how to sing the song or tell the story of how the cosmos itself came to be. The wise-singer who knows the deep lore of the early universe is a standard trope in Old English literature, not just Beowulf! Anyway Tom Bombadil takes everyone home and tells them THE ENTIRE STORY OF ALL THE AGES OF THE EARTH BACKWARDS UNTIL JUST BEFORE THE MOMENT OF CREATION, THE BIG BANG ITSELF and then Frodo Baggins falls asleep.

Tom Bombadil knows about plate tectonics

This is sort of a lie, Tom Bombadil describes the oceans of old being in a different place, which works as a standard visual of Old English creation, which being Christian followed vaguely Genesis lines, and vaguely Christian Genesis involves a lot of water. TOLKIEN knew about plate tectonics though.

Actually I just checked whether Tolkien knew about plate tectonics because I know the advent of plate tectonics theory took forever bc people HATED it and Alfred Wegener suffered for like 50 years. So! actually while Tolkien was writing LOTR, the scientific community was literally still not sure plate tectonics existed. Tom Bombadil knew tho.

Remember that next time you (a geologist) are forced to look at the Middle Earth map.

I'm not even done with Tom Bombadil but I'm stopping here tonight. Plate tectonics got me. There's a great early (but almost high!) medieval treatise on cosmology and also volcanoes and i wonder if tolkien read it. oh my god. i'm going to bed.

edit: part II

[sakuravalelp]

Phantom letters - DPXDC PROMPT

The bats wake up one day to the internet going crazy; people around the world were getting letters from they're diseased loved ones. The reactions are mixed, from people being outraged for the "prank" to people crying in melancholy at getting closure.

All the letters have something in common: They're closed with a green sealing wax that had an stylize DP and the name Phantom beneath it. Posts about the cards were using the # Phantom Letters.

The bats are discussing the viral posts in the cave when Alfred comes holding a basket filled with letters, announcing they were left at the doors. The letters had the sealing wax that they recognize from the posts. Checking the cameras they can see how they glitch before the basket appears.

Alfred starts to distribute the letters that had only one destinatary. Letters from each Thomas and Martha to both Bruce and Alfred. Letters from each John and Mary to Dick. A letter from Catherine to Jason. A letter from the Drake's to Tim, and another one to Bruce.

Once they had calmed down enough from the shock, Alfred proceeded to read the shared recipients. From Thomas and Martha to "The grandchildren we never got to meet." From John and Mary to "the family that took our little Robin in." Letters from Catherine to "My little boys family." The letters were directed to people the deceased didn't get to meet.

As much as the mere existence of the letters tugged at their hearts, they decided to not read them until they verified that the handwriting actually belong to the ones it claimed. They checked each letter, and in the end confirmed the letters were in fact from they're lost love ones.

After much discussion, each person makes the decision to read they're own letters later in private, and they proceed to read the ones that shared recipients out loud. The letter mentioned specifics like names and events that the deceased shouldn't have been able to know, including they're vigilante abilities, which had them pause each time to panic a bit. But what was more interested were certain pieces of the letters that mentioned a Prince Phantom.

"Prince Phantom said to don't mention things past our death, but it wasn't a command, so we're hoping this won't be much of a problem." - John and Mary

"I still can't believe Prince Phantom is letting us do this, but I'm so glad." - Catherine

It finally paints the mystery in a more concerning light when at the end of Thomas and Martha's letter there is a call for help.

"We're sorry for ending the letter on a serious tone, but seeing the kind of job you all get involved in, we wanted to ask: Could you please help Prince Phantom? Phantom had asked us to not give information about this, but he's so young, and has already been hurt so much. Please, check on Amity Park, Illinois."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Meanwhile, team Phantom has decided that they needed to get the news about the GIW out of Amity and ask for help. Two problems:

the GIW blocks any technological attempt made.

People might be afraid to learn that ghosts exist and side with the GIW.

As a way to deal with the public image, Phantom opens a possibility that the death have never had:

"All afterlives are open to write letters to their love ones that are still alive today. Nothing that includes threats, and don't go talking about the anti-ecto acts or Amity Park yet, we're trying to ease people into our existence first. Also, I know you all check on your love ones when the veil is thin, but please keep the things you shouldn't know out of the letters if possible. If you want your letter to be sent in the first batch, make sure to deliver your letter before the week ends."

Letters are a good way to reconnect people with the death, they aren't digital, and the GIW won't be able to intercept letters if they're send through inter-dimensional portals. Two birds in one shot.

[caramelkoo]

be still my heart — jjk [one]

the one in which you get a sex dream about the grouchy hockey player you work for.

genre : childhood best friends to frenemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst

word count : 5.2k

chapter warnings : strong language, mature, slight smut (because im a tease), reader’s name is Destiny, jungkook is a bit grumpy towards her (she makes him nervous leave my boy alone), fat shaming (not by any of the main characters), oc had daddy issues, mentions of allergy. that’s about it, please let me know if i missed something.

a/n : here it isssssss drumrolls please because im so excited for this. jungkook as a hockey player??? *deep breaths* enjoy my lovely people. you’re so so loved. asks, reblogs and likes are much appreciated. kisses <3

read part two here

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

“Babe, you know you're not going to win right? Don't be wasting your breath.” Bella challenges.

You’re sitting on the chair in your office going through the personnel file of the players. Verifying their names with their contact numbers and photographs which, you’re not going to lie, look like mugshots. Jeez, does smiling a little bit cost them? Anyways, once you’re done you close the file and look up at your assistant bickering with her boyfriend. Phone pressed against her ear. 

You mime hanging up the call and she lifts her index finger, indicating for you to wait. She throws in words like hmmm, yeah, you don’t know what you’re saying, yeah i love you too. Once she’s done, she drops the phone on the glass table in front of you and leans back in her chair. 

“He thinks I will let him get away with anything just because I love him”  

You chuckle, “What’s going on?” 

“You know, I’ve been wanting a cat for so long I even made a pinterest board for that. Last Sunday he surprised me with one and when I told him that I lowkey manifested it, he was not having it. I even showed him the mood board and I NEVER show it to anyone. Evil eye is real.” she all but cries out. 

That’s Bella for you. Highly spiritual and a firm believer of the universe. She claims that everything happens for a reason. She’s like a little ball of sunshine. Ever since you joined the Ice Dominators’ hockey team as a physical therapist, she’s been assisting you and you couldn’t be more thankful seeing the lack of female workers here. Seriously, there's no other female worker here except yourself and Bella which is so diabolical to you.

And it’s not like the men on the hockey team are a bunch of misogynist jerks. On the contrary, they act like they’ve known you for years. It didn't take you long to feel like home here. They are obedient, friendly and pretty nice. Few of them are married with kids while the rest of them remain single. They’re not like a bunch of teenagers, they know what they’re doing.

Except one, what’s his name? Jeon Jungkook. You would describe that man as crude and closed off to a pathological degree. You still remember when you asked him to come to your office so you can look at any possible previous injuries, he lied to your fucking face. Claiming he doesn’t have any when you could clearly see him hobbling sometimes just a tiny bit when he walked away. Years and years of dedication towards your studies have made you capable enough to catch that it is an old injury.

Despite your better judgment, you blamed it on the fact that his team lost the game that day. Poor guy was having a bad day and took it out on you. Big deal. 

“Earth to Destiny” Bella waves a hand close to your face and you shake your head as you look at her.

“Leave the poor man alone” You plead and then ask, “Any details about the new player? I’ll have to add it in the file” 

“Not yet, as far as I know they’re still contemplating the guy named Park Jimin or something”

That gets you real quick. Park Jimin. The name feels like acid on your tongue .The last game being unsatisfactorily resulted in the federation trading one of the players. It was cruel but was done for the better. Bound to happen sooner or later. You had expected it but what you had not expected was you both sharing a same room, sharing the same air.

“Alright then. We’ll cross that bridge when it’s—”

Knock, knock

“Miss Kim, sorry to interrupt but the manager is asking for you” Taehyung’s head pokes through the door.

You stand, picking up the file and sliding it into the tableside drawer, running a free hand over your scrubs. Bella does the same as she plucks her phone from the table and puts it inside her back pocket.

You look at him. “Sure Tae, thank you for informing”

He flashes you a quick, pretty smile before leaving. Bella turns to you with a worried look on her face.

“What do you think it is for?”

You bite your lip. “I have no idea. I wanna say it's about the new player but who knows?”

You hope it is and as unfortunate as it is for you to discuss him, you will have to hold your own. You know better than to be invited into the manager’s office. Though, judging by the temperament of him you would not predict anything. Last time when he called you, it was about Jeon Jerk, asking you to be more serious about your job as if it was your fault the man spared you the necessary details.

The asshole asked YOU to do your job better by virtue of HIS player not being sweet enough to listen. Maybe, there is indeed a misogynistic asshole going around and it’s the manager. No wonder women don’t volunteer to work for him.

Since, You love your job —god knows you wanna keep doing it— you kept quiet and took every jab he threw at you.

“Wait, Do I have time to pray? Should I pray?” she’s clearly panicking and you pat her on the shoulder.

“Just hope my job is still intact” you say, warily reaching for your purse. You both head out.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

“Miss Kim, have a seat” James nods at the chair before him.

Once you’re settled, he continues, “I asked for you to join me here regarding the upcoming game. Care to fill in about the status of injury assessment?"

You clear your throat, “Absolutely, I was planning on getting on that today” 

“Well, I would love for you to do it soon as you know we have a new player in the team with us now”

You jerk, leaning forward. “We do?”

“Yes, and if you can please hurry with the assessment I would be grateful. You can do that right? Not too much of a work for you, eh?” 

Someone give him a medal from the way he's trying to hide the venom in his voice.

“Sure I can” you give him a firm nod. 

James Adams is an entitled, self centered asshole who thinks he’s above everyone else just because of his position. You reckon he does anything for the team besides talking bullshit. He kind of reminds you of your dad who also has the nasty habit of thinking the world of himself.

You’re all about self love but when that self love turns into chronically demeaning everybody in their close proximity, it boils your blood. This man in front of you is no better than your father. What's that saying? Out of the frying pan into the fire.

So you say nothing further and excuse yourself. You would have barfed in his face if you stayed there a second longer. Actually that's not a very bad idea. Bella is standing outside waiting for you as you close the door behind yourself.

“What did he say?” 

You bark, “Bunch of horseshit” 

“Typical” 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook 

There is a buzzing noise somewhere around Jungkook. Fuck, his head hurts. He frantically searches for his phone, still not opening his eyes. When he finds it, he slides his thumb on the screen and picks up the call. 

“Dude, how big do you want your coffin to be?” He loves his best friend but right now he would rather be sleeping than listen to him bark in his own ear. 

He finally squints his eyes open, “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Have you looked at the time?” says Taehyung.

“What time- FUCK!!!” he shrieks as he looks at the clock.

Somebody kill him right now. No wait, he’s gonna die either way so why bother. If he didn’t scream loud enough before, he does now. He all but jumps off the bed when he sees the blondie on the other side sleeping like she fucking owns it, wearing nothing but a thong. She must have heard him malfunctioning because soon she stirs, groaning as she slowly wakes up like a Disney princess. Who the heck is she and how did she get in here? Then it comes to him.

“Please Jungkook just take me to your room and fuck me. Show me what those hockey hands are capable of.” 

He wants to swallow a fistful of iron nails. Speaking straight from his shoulders, he has made plenty of bad decisions throughout his career and this is not his first time bringing a puck bunny up to his room but it has never come to this. Missing his hockey practice because he was too exhausted to get his sweet ass up and run to the academy. 

Taehyung screams from the other side of the line, “Are you there? Hello?” 

Shit, he forgot he was on a call. 

“I’ll be there soon. Cover for me until then.” With that he presses the red circular button and ends the call with him muttering some curses.

He glances back at the blondie, “Why are you not gone yet?” 

She’s looking at him with those fuck me eyes she had last night but right now when he’s well aware of the fact that he’s in hot water, they don’t do shit to him. Coach will have his head on a platter today for sure. Honestly, they wouldn’t have done shit to him if it was not for the great deal of alcohol last night.

“I thought of you as a morning sex person” she twirls a strand of hair with her finger, sitting up now. Her tits hang free and he can see his hickeys decorating her chest.

He wants to laugh. She’s not even close to his type. His type is the woman in blue scrubs with her brunette hair slicked back in a ponytail. His type is the woman who looks like she could be watching grass grow rather than to look at him. His type is the woman who walks into a room and lights it up. His type is the woman who is too bright for him and his mundane personality, who has a face worth millions. His type is Kim Destiny. 

“No need to waste your precious time thinking about me. You can go” 

He places his phone back on the table and saunters over to the bathroom, not bothering looking back at her. He has boundaries and he intends to keep it that way.

He quickly goes through his routine of taking a shower, making a cup of coffee, sliding into a pair of sweatpants and the Ice Dominator’s jersey with his name on the back. Not in that order, of course.

The girl is thankfully gone by the time he finishes. Once he’s done with his coffee he picks up the car keys and a protein bar from the kitchen counter and heads to the academy hoping his limbs remain intact by the time he’s home.

The Academy is bustling as usual with players keeping themselves busy with hockey and their gym sessions. He heads straight for the rink not even bothering to change into the uniform. He needs to see for himself that everybody is still on the ice. Everything comes after that.

Surprisingly, he sees not a single guy when he reaches there. His heartbeat stops.

“Hey Pixie, where are the boys? Did they already leave?” he asks the brunette kid who looks like he just saw a ghost. Or it’s just Jungkook who he saw.

He shakes his head, “They’re all in the gym. The doc called them earlier, said she had something important to get done with them” 

Jungkook gives him a quick thanks and walks towards the gym. What could be so important that she had to call the boys mid practice? Is someone hurt? Is she hurt? His heart leaps in hid throat as he runs. Fuck, please let him be wrong.

The first thing that he sees as he enters the room full of equipment are his teammates. Taehyung and Yoongi are in the corner lifting weights, Namjoon is using the treadmill as he runs on it. The rest of the boys are all scattered around doing their own thing. He still can’t find Destiny anywhere but her assistant, Bella, is talking to Namjoon while holding a file so he lets out a sigh, relieved that nobody is in fact hurt and in need of help. 

“Do you wanna get a tattoo on the peni— oh look who’s here. Jeon Jungkook as I live and breathe.”

Taehyung drops the weight on the ground before walking up to him. He’s dressed in a black tee and sports shorts. The man looks good in everything. Bet he’d look in a sack too. 

“Whoa!! Why do you look like you wanna kill somebody or wanna get killed? Is everything okay?” 

Jungkook lets his face relax, focusing more on the eyebrows which had gone tensed due to his unnecessary anxiety. “Yeah, all’s good. The practice ended early?” 

“The practice ended just on time. It’s you who’s late” he pats my shoulder. 

He runs his fingers through his hair and walks towards the bench, dropping his bag on it. Taehyung follows him ignoring Yoongi who’s calling him back for the weightlifting. 

“Doc wanted to assess our injuries for the last time before our game if you’re curious which, I know you are. You’re always curious about her” 

He winks at Jungkook and he punches him on the chest. Taehyung laughs as he rubs the spot.

“Keep your voice down, will you?” 

Bella’s voice echoes across the room, “Jeon, you’re up next” 

He takes out his water bottle, takes a swig and stands. A wince leaves him as he gets a flashback of the last time he had to face her. It didn’t go very well and he’s sure she hates him now. He would too. After all, he not only talked to her rudely but also lied through his teeth about his injury. It’s pretty old so he had not felt the need to mention it. 

He sees a guy coming out of the office just before he’s about to enter. He has brown hair long enough to reach the nape of his neck. Even from where Jungkook’s standing, he can say the man doesn’t reach above his shoulders. Who the fuck is he? Oh wait, he must be the new player that got traded down here. The guy must have sensed him making a hole through his head by the way he’s staring because he’s begins walking towards him with a bright grin.

“Hey man, you must be Jeon Jungkook? Heard a lot about you. I’m Park Jimin” He holds out his hand, asking Jungkook to shake it and he gives it a firm handshake. Word to the wise : never give someone a weak handshake. His grandfather has been asking him to do that ever since he was 15, said it doesn’t leave a strong impression and he’s be lying if he says he was wrong.

He offers Jimin a nod, “Nice to meet you. Excited to get on the rink with you.” 

He takes his hand back. “Oh the feeling is mutual but—”

“Jungkook, please join me inside” 

Destiny’s voice cuts him off as she looks over to both of them with an eerie expression on her face. Her eyes bounce between them, resting a second longer on Jimin. Does she know him? Do they have a history? Wait, are they a thing? Even if they are, why does it bother him? Jungkook couldn’t care less about the pretty physical therapist who wears her blue scrubs like armor and white crocs with strawberries on them.

He gives Jimin another nod and follows her into the office. Although, he’s not sure if a massage table and a stool resting beside it counts as an office. The room which she works in is much better. This one is just for examinations and massage therapy so he guesses it doesn’t need that much of an upgrade.

She gestures towards the table, “Please sit”

He says nothing and settles himself up, clearing his throat.

“Look I know we got off on the wrong foot last time and it could have gone so much better, but we can still start over right?”

Destiny takes a deep breath, filling her chest with air. She’s wearing her hair in a bun today. It sits at the top of her head and some strands are set loose cascading down her face. God, she’s pretty.

He looks down and back up at her. “Sure”

Her face shows her annoyance with the one word response. He doesn't blame her. He'd be pissed too.

She’s quiet for a moment, “Why don’t you tell me about your knee injury to start with?”

“What are you talking about?”

She sighs, “You know what I’m talking about Jungkook. Please don’t make me work for it. It’s my job to know about your past and present injuries, if any. The manager has already given me crap about it”

He freezes. His hackles rising and his relaxed face long gone.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing”

He levels her with a stern face, “What.did.he.say?”

She’s not obligated to answer him. Hell, she could just slap him in the face and leave but he needs to know what went down with that son of a bitch. When and if she decides to let him in the details and it turns out something wicked, he’s gonna hunt that man down and make his life miserable.

Much to his surprise, she takes a step back and starts talking. "He called me in his office today and," she halts,

"Well let's just say there were some words thrown around which clearly meant he thinks of me as a feather brained bitch"

He might look unbothered from outside but the indignation inside him could just about burn the whole city down. He tries to keep calm and pries some more.

His jaw clenches. "What else?"

Destiny shakes her head, shuffling on her feet. “Jungkook it’s really not that seriou—”

“It is serious. You work for us, you tolerate our asses and in return if we fail to give you the respect which, you deserve by the way cause it’s the bare minimum, we might as well save everyone’s time and money by giving all of this up.”

“Why do you care?” she shakes her head.

He takes a step forward, “Because you— Because you work for us, Destiny. You look out for our bodies, our injuries, our fuckups. Is that not enough?”

She barely reaches his shoulders. It’s cute how she has to crane her neck up in order to look him in the eye. She keeps looking at him for a long minute, searching his face.

“You think I don’t know that? Do you really think I don’t have what it takes to ask for my own dignity?”

He takes a long step back. This conversation was as unforeseen as they come. The room gets filled with heavy silence and he can hear Destiny’s heavy breath. He can tell she’s trying to calm herself as if his words have blindsided her.

Needless to say she’s a tad bit taken aback. Jungkook would be too if someone who never bothered to speak a word to him and when he did, there was nothing pleasant about his tone suddenly started to care.

But that’s where she’s wrong, nothing about his care or concern for her is sudden. He still remembers the day she accidentally drank the almond smoothie Bella brought not knowing the fact that she’s allergic to it. She’d started choking the second it went down her throat. He also remembers how Yoongi injected the epipen against her thigh as she came back to life.

Meanwhile, he stood behind shaking in his goddamn boots. Too scared to let her out of his sight and too pathetic to hold her close. Yeah, he’s not proud of that.

He sighs, “You know that’s not what I meant—”

Namjoon walks inside with a hand towel around his neck “Doc, you about done? The boys are being incorrigible over there. If you don’t hurry, one of them is gonna call a tattoo artist and get their dick tattooed. Right here”

The room falls silent.

“Jesus” she looks over to where the guys are bickering about something, propping her hands on her hips. “Yeah, give me a minute.”

“Sure” and with that he walks away.

She picks up a blue file from the stool, not looking at him. Why is she not looking at him?

“If you don’t want to tell me about your injury right now, that’s fine. Since, I know it’s pretty old and It’s unlikely that you’re gonna get affected by it in the upcoming games, there’s no need to worry. However, I would still suggest you be careful. Anything can happen out there and your knee is in a vulnerable position. Don’t pick unnecessary fights, don’t let the opponent know your weak link.”

She glances at him, dropping the file back to where it was.

“You can go”

Without a preamble, he heads outside, passing Taehyung. He hears him cracking a joke about penis tattoos and piercings with his girlfriend’s name on it. Destiny cracks up and Jungkook wonders if she would have done the same, had he been the one cracking the joke. Only, he doesn’t crack jokes. Not around her at least. It’s not like he's some grumpy bastard who wants nothing to do with anybody around him and thinks of him as omniscient.

There’s just something about Destiny which puts him at loss of words. Knotting his tongue it in such a way where he can’t get an expression out. Only look at her and god, does he look at her. He's not stupid. He knows it’s a crush but she’s like a mirage to him. She’s unreachable, forbidden and so fucking beautiful.

Does he want to make her his? Yes, Is he going to risk his career and hers over it? Absolutely not. So, he makes use of the only right nobody can take away from him. Not even her. Admire her from afar. Fantasize more about tasting her, licking her slender neck and worshipping the ground that she walks on and one day if she lets him, Jungkook will do anything to turn all of that into reality.

He finds Yoongi seated on of the benches, scrolling on his phone.

Facing him, Jungkook speaks in a low voice. "Do you have any idea where James is?"

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Destiny

Never have you ever wanted to run away as much as you did when you saw Jimin in front of yourself, standing all tall and proud. You had wished it to be a dream, wished you just had a nightmare about him joining the same team you happen to work with but reality is a goddamn bitch and it bites hard when it does. He had grown out his hair longer but he still has the same smile, same eyes and the same charm he used on you back then. Park Jimin is a man people don’t ever forget once they see him. He has an aura which traps everyone so hard they can never escape. How do you know? You have been a victim yourself.

You meticulously go through the consequences and eventualities of being in the same room as him again. You seeing him everyday and him reminding you of every single detail you have tried so hard forgetting about, the boys finding out about you both and putting you through the wringer or worse, him. The possibilities are endless and you feel the sudden urge to square everything with him.

Contrary to what you had thought, he reacted pretty normally when he saw you as if somebody had already told him about you. You had expected him to get shocked or at the very least pretend to be shocked.

Having said that, he just gave you a single nod as if you're someone he passes by every morning at the park. Are you this forgettable? Are you someone people just brush aside like that? Your father’s words echo in your ears like loud drums,

“You know, nobody will love you if you keep looking like this. Eat less”

“Girl, do you ever stop eating? Every time I see you, you're stuffing something in that mouth of yours!!”

“Don’t come running back at me when no guy gives a shit about you”

You were 10 and he was an asshole. He still is.

Thanks to him, you now have a tendency to cook when you're stressed over anything. It brings you comfort and diverts your mind from the excessive overthinking. You would go bald if it puts the voices into silent mode.

After already wasting half of your life speculating what to eat, counting calories and whatnot, you came to the terms that you can’t actually operate that way and began eating whatever the fuck you wanted. Yet still, you need to go a long way in order to fully love yourself and your body. It's a journey and you're moving ahead step by step. One day at a time.

One would even say you're hot. You have received compliments from several people over the course of time except you don’t have a thigh gap, your arms jiggle and you also happen to have a love handle. You would have adored them if it wasn’t for your dad making you feel shitty about having them.

A knock on your door stops you midway as you're kneading the dough. Biscuit runs over to you, jumping on the counter.

“Coming”

The knock comes back again, this time slightly louder.

“Oh my god wait I’m coming”

The door swings open and you gasp. “Mina?”

She passes by you, dragging her suitcase along with her.

“Hey bestie”

You close the door and follow her further into the hall. “What’s going on? What’s with the suitcase?”

Your best friend’s sudden arrival must have caught you by slight surprise but your cat is rather pleased to see her. Traitor. She starts clawing at her feet excitedly.

“What a good girl you are? Yes, you are” Mina coos at her and then glances up at you from where she has biscuit nestled in her lap,

“I need a place to live for a few days because my shitty boss kept rejecting all my articles and I really wanna bring her something worth the front page. Apparently, writing about the famous coffee shop around the corner and their secret ingredient being maple syrup wasn’t good enough.”

You round the counter and continue kneading the dough for your strawberry pie. It’s not unlikely for Mina to show up unannounced. In fact, she has done that plenty of times but the suitcase was never involved. This one is new.

“So you decided to barge in here without even asking?” You tease.

She flashes you a dramatic look. “Look at us, Destiny. Aren’t we the same girls who giggled about living together after college? With matching slippers and movie marathons?”

“Okay okay you dramatic bitch. How long are you here for?”

Biscuit runs to do her business and she gets up, setting her suitcase to the side.

She sighs, “Not sure. As long as it takes me to come up with a new topic to write about–HEY— why don’t I just write on the hockey team you work with? What are they called? Ice…ice”

“Ice Dominators” you fill in for her.

She slaps her thigh. “That’s the one”

You shrug, “I mean you can, but you’ll have to call in on the coach first. He operates everything inside and outside the team”

Coach Ian is too nice to turn her request down. He’s one of the most genuine people in the federation. Maybe this is why the team is so strong and united. He respects every single boy and receives it tenfold. It's a mutual thing.

“Shit, How come I didn’t think about that” she bites her lip, her enthusiasm replaced by nervousness.

“Don’t worry. He won’t make you work for it. Ian is as nice as they come” you assure.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out. As you watch, she opens your fridge, taking out the box of frozen blueberries and pops one into her mouth.

“Do you want me to give you a hand?” she mumbles while chewing.

You point towards the bathroom, “Go and take a shower, right now. You stinky”

You duck the blueberry she throws your way, laughing as you do. Giving your cheek one last kiss, she excuses herself.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Warm hands roam over your thigh, squeezing them. You muffle your moan with your palm and take every thrust. 

“Yeah, you like that? You like how I’m pounding into this ass right now?” 

You gasp. 

“Such a good girl” he praises.

The man behind you presses a kiss to your naked shoulder as he rasps in your ears, “Were you walking around all day dripping for me?” 

He pulls his cock out and thrusts again. You meet him with equal passion and hunger. 

“Tell me” 

You nod. 

“I need your words, Destiny” 

You cry out, “Yes Oh god, Yes. I wanted you in me so bad” 

He cups your pussy and rubs your clit with his palm until you're rolling your eyes to the back of your head and squirming. Thrust after thrust he brings you to your sweet release while talking dirty things in your ear. You're about to melt into a puddle of goo. He’s got you totally at his mercy. 

“So beautiful like this. Taking my cock so well huh?” 

“Ahh it feels so good, right there. Just right there, don’t stop” 

He bites down your shoulder, “Come for me and let everyone outside hear the name you’re screaming, you dirty whore” 

Your heartbeat picks up as you squeeze him with the tight ring of muscle, orgasm crashing over. 

“FUCK. Oh my god Jungkook!!”

Your eyes fling open and you sit up so fast your head starts spinning. Everything around you is pitch black. Wait, where am you? 

Mina is at your side in an instant, “Destiny, are you okay babe?”

You look around and release a sigh of relief. You run your fingers through your hair, ruffling them. 

“Yeah um… I’m fine. It was just a bad dream. Go back to sleep.” 

Except it wasn’t. It was one hell of a dream where you were getting fucked into oblivion by your player. You're not even going to lie and say that you didn’t like it. C’mon you're a woman of needs, it’s just that, him fulfilling those needs was not on the cards for you even if it wasn't real.

You check the time on your phone and wince at the bright light flashing up at you. It’s 2:45 am and you just had a back breaking sex dream about a man who you want nothing to do with. Who, as beautiful as he is, annoys the hell out of you with those one word replies and grumpy face. An edgy feeling threatens to rise.

Oh god it’s going to be awkward now. It’s only normal to walk on eggshells around someone people have these sort of dreams about. You have read your fair share of books where the female character gets a sex dream about a man and then they don’t talk to each other for the rest of their lives. Okay, that's a bit of a stretch but it might as well not be.

Yeah, you admit you guys don’t talk to each other a lot as it is, or are longtime best friends tiptoeing around their feelings, but you're afraid you're gonna have to ignore him forever for the sake of your own sanity. 

I’m so fucked. You think.

tags - @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw

[yzzart]

── ⋆｡𖦹°‧ DO YOU LOVE WHEN I CALL YOU THAT? .ᐟ

୭˚. ᵎᵎ content warnings: F!reader, 18+, Kenji referring to reader as his wife and being a fucking tease, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, teasing, touching, explicit words, explicit content.

Probably, in fact, there were many possibilities, the noises of the bed squeaking against the wall, even though it was made of excellent material, could be heard from outside the room; accompanied by moans, obscene noises and some indecent words. — But who would be able to complain about that?

Inside the room, a dimly lit environment but still showing silhouettes, all the noises and noises mentioned were more intense, powerful and lively, in addition to the sound of flesh struggling against each other; becoming much more than wanton and immoral. — And much tastier.

"I love eating that beautiful pussy." — His warm breath brushes your reddened cheek and is a little wet from thin tears, while you whimper when you feel his thick tip poking that sensitive and delicate spot. — "And you know a lot about that, don't you?" — A question, unanswerable, mixed with a grunt, moan came from Kenji's bold lips.

He dragged his mouth, uttering sinful praises and hoarse hums, along your chin and, at the same time, ran wet, sloppy kisses on your skin and leaned in to admire your reactions and expressions, showing an immense, intense, satisfaction and pleasure, almost becoming exulting; the immense wave of pleasure became agonizing, almost unbearable.

"Is that ok, my love?" — He asked, closing his eyes, for a few seconds, it almost became a growl, something so skittish when he felt your nails being dug into his back. — "Pf, look at those claws…" — Kenji murmured with a hoarse laugh, a shameless smile pulling at his lips, thinking about the thick, reddish lines that will decorate his back later.

"Ken..ji!" — Desperately, the only thing that was going through your mind was his name and nothing else, not even your conscience or notion, even respect for yourself, punctuated your little head. — "Mm, please, please."

"Oh, my beautiful wife." — Moving his mouth to your ears, scraping his teeth on the earlobe, Sato's words came out, satisfyingly, in a fascinating way, more than sensual and so impudent; performing an unsurprising action at the same time so libertine of you. — "Holy shit, damn…?"

Immediately, in a matter of agile and apprehensible seconds, after directing you with that statement, during his rhythm, Kenji felt your warm, inner walls squeezing, possessively, slyly and exaltedly, his cock; more moans, cunning and drawn-out meows came out of your lips, with your nails, eminently, stuck to the older's skin. — He felt your body softer, needier, in shock after his words, which left him intrigued, yearning.

Who could have imagined?

"Ah, you love it when i call you that." — He spoke, seriously, but with a little grace, ecstatic with what he had just felt and witnessed. Kenji's bold tongue flicked across his cheek, the taste of your sweat transferred to his palate, and he placed a soft bite on the apple of your cheek. — "My wife." — Sato moved his hips, moving away from the intimate and erotic contact, keeping the tip at your entrance, and then diving into your pussy again; highlighting a delightful and pleasurable thrust, once again reaching your sensitive spot.

"My beautiful, beautiful wife.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

so! you mentioned in the 'p0rn preferences' post that Gaz is not the one who jerks off the most in the 141, and I humbly ask you, who would that be?

I don't mean this as a request, just a little discussion, cause I feel like Soap would just be going at it at any chance possible, like a bunny. he probably doesn't care much if someone hears it, but that's just me thinking too much into it.

Who Jerks off the Most in the 141 + König

Warnings: 18+, Heavy Mentions of Masturbation, Male Masturbation, Implied Reader in Individual Headcanons, Accidental and Implied Voyeurism, Edging, Brief Mention of Injury, Men Who Moan <3, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.

A/N: As per Anon's question (which I just had to turn into a post of its own) I present to you the list of the 141 members (and König) who jerk off from the most to least <3

Soap

I have to agree with you here, Anon - Johnny is most definitely the king of self love when it comes to the 141.

He doesn't much care where he is or who he's with; when he has to satisfy his needs, he'll do so.

Though, he'll spare whoever's with him the sight of watching him throwing his head back, trying to stifle his moans behind gritted teeth whilst the wet sound of his hand slipping up and down the length of his shaft fill the room.

Unless they want to.

For one reason or another, he's nigh-insatiable when it comes to his libido, and the fact that his stamina affords him the luxury of beating himself off until his cum is practically translucent doesn't help.

The slightest thing can set him off.

Someone brushing past him ? Hard.

Someone stroking his ego a little too enthusiastically ? Bricked up.

He sees something that's shaped to be a little too curvy or phallic ? Stiff as a pole.

He remembers something mildly suggestive you did three years ago in that restaurant ? He's going to the Horny Realm.

Yes, his teammates have complained about his incessant moaning-come-grunting-come-whimpering through all hours of the night, his voice contorting through a spectrum of desperation and Johnny always ending up spent and overstimulated by the time the sun comes up.

And then he's ready to do it all again the second night touches the horizon line, giving his teammates a knowing smile when he walks into the room sporting nothing else save for a pair of boxers and a monster that looks to be trying to tear itself free from them.

Gaz

Dude's young. Of course he's throttling that rooster on a nigh-daily basis.

The only reason he's not at it as much as Soap is because he likes to believe he still has a few threads of his self-restraint intact.

He doesn't.

Especially when it comes to you (regardless of whether you're dating yet or not).

But he doesn't need to know that.

Honestly, the only thing that separates him from Johnny's unmatched libido is the fact that it takes a little more than the slightest provocation to get Gaz going.

Albeit, that line is a thin one.

If he so much as accidentally sees something explicit for upwards of three seconds, he's hard.

The only advantage of his need for satisfaction is the speed with which he can achieve it.

He and Johnny actually timed each other once to see who could get off the fastest.

Gaz won. Though, only by a slim margin.

Needless to say, that made for a rather interesting conversation with the Captain when he walked in on two of his best soldiers sat panting on the edge of their cots, an almost-translucent spray spattered across their stomachs, eyes half-lidded and hazy.

Ghost

The third-in-line for the Throttle Throne is none other than our beloved Ghost.

Unlike Johnny and Gaz, Ghost is more likely to leave himself alone at the first sign of trouble, toughing it out until he can will his mind to less lustful pastimes.

He won't make his jacking off known to anyone, either, often doing it in the shower where the water beats down so harshly that no sound can be heard for the water's fall.

That, and he's a master at keeping his voice low, no matter the circumstances.

More often than not, Simon makes quick work of jerking off purely because it’s a means to an end. However, if it’s you he’s thinking of, he’s much more likely to take his time — to immerse himself in the fantasy of your body around his, taking him so well in one capacity or another. Fucking yourself dumb on his cock.

During these times, he’s thorough — much more likely to edge himself, to throw his head back and growl between gritted teeth, to savour the sensation coiling in his stomach, his balls growing tight.

Otherwise, he’ll stroke one out as quickly as he can, getting back to business as usual.

And to look at him, on the surface, you'd never know that he just spent the last three minutes rubbing one out in the bathroom (yes, he is also a contender for first place in the 'Who Can Jack Off The Quickest Competition', but he'll never allow Johnny or Gaz the luxury of witnessing his unprecedented skill; that's for your eyes only).

Until he corners you, breathing down your neck, scolding you for tempting him - a man whose restraint lies only in his ability to hold off from reducing you to an exponential reflection of his prior state, breathless and covered in fluids.

König

Have you seen the size of that thing ? Man should be in the olympics for being able to throw that weight around.

Similarly to Ghost, König only gets himself off when it's absolutely necessary.

Only if he doesn't have you lying around to help him, of course.

Though, he lets himself have a bit of fun with it. Especially if it's been a tough day.

He's vocal, too. Though he tries not to be.

He just can't help it. Days' - maybe even weeks' - worth of unspent adrenaline and semen is hardly any way for a soldier like König to go about his life. So, he expels it in the privacy of quite literally any isolated space he can find.

König is not an adventurous spirit by any means when it comes to self pleasure, but when needs must, he's willing to shoulder the weight of the prospect that someone on his team could walk in at any second and catch him spraying his stomach or the wall white with, let's face it, thick ropes of cum.

Hong-Jin's actually caught him doing that before now.

That's actually how the two became friends: Horangi heard König grunting in the store cupboard and, knowing how stubborn his Colonel was with letting others know when he was injured, sought him out. Wanted to offer his help.

Catching Colonel König in the act of throwing his head back whilst growling the name '(Y/N)' into the darkest corner of the room was, suffice it to say, not what Horangi had been expecting.

Price

You just know he's cool with it. And by 'cool', I mean incredibly intentional, controlled, and not ravenous in the ways our other favourite military princesses are.

Sure, Price has gotten hard on the job a few times.

Who hasn't ?

But thanks to his level head, unwavering devotion to his work, and absolute refusal to acknowledge that he did, in fact, get a little bit of a chub during a shoot-out, he's managed to gain control over every facet of his body.

Until he comes home to you, of course.

Until he's able to loom over you like an omen and run his hands down your sides, stopping at your hips and pressing kisses that become more open-mouthed the further down the side of your neck he dips.

Pressing his hips into yours. Something demands your attention.

There have been very few occasions where a cold shower wasn't a quick enough fix for him.

When the days of having you milk him are too far out of sight, he's had to suffice with his own hands before now. Had to imagine - remember - what yours felt like in his place, your lips curled up as he gripped the chair arms, breathless as he moaned into the warm tones of your shared apartment.

But don't worry ! He'll be sure to catch you up on everything you've missed while he's been away once he returns.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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[bunnyhugs77]

Mr. Take Your Bitch

Pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Content Warning: jk is a little cocky, player! jk, reader gets flustered so easily, jk is such a tease, smooth talker jk, clubbing, ft bts, interviews, reader is small (like 5'1), insults, alcohol consumption, infidelity, readers boyfriend is an asshole, mentions of smoking, impulsive jk, what happens in vegas stays in vegas, messyyy, suggestive themes, sweet gestures.

Other Content: hair pulling, manhandling, oral sex (f! receiving), squirting, missionary, jk splits reader in half, big dick! jk, doggy style, dacryphilia, praise and degradation, cream pies, minor possessive jk, unprotected sex (be better than them), recording.

"How do I look?" Sunny tosses the perfectly sculpted curls in her hair once more, pouting in the dressing room mirror, making sure that not a strand was out of place.

"For the eighth time, you look great, as always." She stands, her red off-the-shoulder top accenting her white pencil skirt and perfect figure, she really did look gorgeous. "Great isn't enough. This is the first time I'm interviewing THE BTS. I need to look perfect."

"You do. I promise." You reassure with a comforting right hand on her shoulder while you center her necklace with your left. "Y/n, we need you out here to help set up." Your manager cracks the door open to call for you briefly before leaving.

"I still cannot believe you dragged me into this coffee girl job just for you to get close to Namjoon." Sunny's full lips stretch from ear to ear showing off her million-dollar smile, "What's so wrong about me wanting you nearby for emotional support? But at least I got you a job out of it, 3 weeks ago you were on the brink of poverty.'' Her arms crossed and you had to admit, she did have a point.

"What was the whole point of this again?" You simply had to ask, remembering the midnight phone call Sunny surprised you with about a month ago when she landed the Hybe interviewer position.

"Remember the story I told you about, in Junior year, me and this boy from math camp snuck out 6 miles away with fake IDs and got shitfaced at the nearest bar then hooked up but I never got his name and he was in the middle of signing my journal we were interrupted and I never saw him again until-"

"You saw Namjoon's face on a billboard in Seoul, and you took this opportunity to get close to see if it was him or not. Yes, I remember now, it's all coming back to me." You finish her story for her.

"Exactly, and-"

"--Y/n, sometime today would be great." Your manager interrupts once again and you leave, apologizing frantically for making them wait, not wanting to lose this job. It actually paid pretty well considering all you did was make drinks.

Walking out of the dressing room, ignoring the buzz in the back pocket of your jeans as you followed your manager to the coffee cart offset. Although from here you had a perfect view of where the interview would take place.

They set it up to be very stylish and modern with BTS albums and concept photos placed strategically around the set within the camera shot. Along with a small coffee table, one chair on one side where Sunny would sit and seven on the other side.

It almost gave you chills to think about. The fact that in a few moments, the most popular boy band in the continent would be sitting right there. All seven of them, including the tempting one.

The one who makes you stumble over your words every time he comes down to the first floor to get a coffee even though there's a gazillion other places to get something to drink in the building.

Every time you see him, he's displaying a new style. Sometimes he comes down stacked with complex layers of clothing and covered in jewelry, or with nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, although the latter was possibly the worst of your few interactions. He's just so handsome, it made you want to squirm.

That day he was saying all the right things, yet saying nothing at all. Asking you simple questions like when you started working here, and if you liked coffee, meanwhile all you could mutter was an embarrassing 'yes'. What exactly you were saying yes to? You may never know.

You turned your back to the set and focused on making the pre-ordered drinks the members had sent down with their manager beforehand. By the time you turned back around Sunny was sitting in her place, anxious but ready.

You've been best friends since the 6th grade. She's incredibly outgoing and sociable, a balancing contrast to your more introverted nature although you could be a little extroverted with some alcohol in your system.

She was born for this job, you're sure she'll kill the interview. She mentioned that she'd bumped into a few of the members since she started working a month ago, but not Namjoon.

She definitely underestimated how hard it would be to 'bump' into a man who is guarded by security constantly and extremely busy, not to mention rarely in the country.

Hoseok was the first one to walk in, looking sharp as ever in casual attire but he he made it look incredible. Next was Jimin, and you noticed the way Sunny's eyes nearly widened when she finally saw Namjoon walk in behind Tae.

Finally, they were all inside and all greeted Sunny with a friendly hug and you can see she enjoyed her hug with Namjoon a little too much. Somehow finding something small to laugh about with him as they pulled away.

With an empty cup in your hand, you watched the most handsome group of men you've ever seen, file into the room and take a seat. "Go set these down before cameras start rolling." You feel a tap on your shoulder from another worker.

Did you zone out?

You placed a firm hand on your chest, taking a deep breath before placing a sturdy grip on the handles of the cart and bringing their beverages over. 'One foot in front of the other' you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the feeling of their gazes turning to you as you got closer.

Unable to look any of them in the eyes as you set down their drinks on the table saying the name of each one so they know which one is theirs.

You could feel his gaze on you whilst Sunny got to witness it first hand from where she sat. The way his jaw slowly clenches with each passing moment, watching you with dark, intense eyes. In that moment, the world around him blurred, and all that remained was the captivating image of you.

It was while you were placing down the final cup that you felt bold enough to finally look up from the table, glancing at Jimin who was talking to Hoseok on his right. Slowly your line of sight inches up and over his head to Jungkook who was sitting on a taller chair behind him.

He was looking right at you.

And that was more than enough for you to return to the cart and retreat to your station. The boys reached for their cups as the countdown to the interview began.

You watched with engaged eyes from the sidelines as the interview began, going through basic introductions and standard questions, you were listening along to the jokes made along the way.

It seemed they were having a great time out there, but you couldn't focus on all of them for too long. You wouldn't be doing your duties as Sunny's best friend if you didn't watch Namjoon's every move; including how he seemed to be the first one to answer almost any of her questions.

The questions were flying by and the discussion was so entertaining to watch but it was over before you even registered it. Sure, cameras had stopped rolling but they were all still talking.

You felt another buzz in your pocket, finally deciding to check.

 Daehyun: Are you still mad? It's been 2 days, you're being dramatic. 12:02 pm

 Daehyun: Why aren't you answering my texts? 1:12 pm

 Daehyun: Fine. Keep ignoring me. Real mature, Y/n. 1:13 pm

You scoff at the messages.

Unbelievable.

Your boyfriend has left you astonished. Again!

You put your phone back on silent, secretly wishing you'd never checked it in the first place. Muttering under your breath about what a jerk he's been to you lately but you stop yourself. Because he's still your boyfriend, and sure, he fucked up a few times, bad. It doesn't change the fact that you're in a relationship with him.

If you could even call it that.

You've slept together twice. Well- 1.5 times if you wanted to get specific. The second time was so bad that you simply had to stop it altogether and make up some excuse so that you didn't hurt his feelings.

Shaking him out of your head and focusing back on your task at hand which was collecting the empty mugs from the table. Repeating the same process as before, avoiding all eye contact, but this time you didn't look up.

You didn't bother because you already knew he was watching you.

You were intimidated but you weren't oblivious.

-

"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!" You hear her from around the corner before you see her running towards you at your coffee station on the first floor. Sunny was practically bursting. You would think that she had captured the sun between her hands but it was something that would take your life for a spin, but you didn't know that yet.

"You're interview went so well!" You slip in your comment first knowing that once she says whatever she has to say, it'll go on for years.

"I know right! After you left to pack up, I was still talking to the guys and they really seemed to like me so they invited me and any +1 I want to invite on their weekend in Vegas trip tomorrow night! All expenses paid for!" Jaw-dropping wasn't the word. Knee buckling may be a better fit as you had quite literally stumbled and dropped a mug, thankfully it didn't break.

"No. No no no." You say, backing up and her entire demeanour deflated like a devastated puppy. "Why not?" You lean in close, whispering, "Because Jungkook is gonna be there--" She interrupts you, practically exploding with emotions. "Oh my god, he wants you so bad. Did you see the way he was looking at you?!" She whisper shouts.

"I know!" you plain shout out, realizing your volume needed adjusting and leaning forward onto the counter. "But he's Jeon Jungkook and I have Daehyun-" The most disgusted look runs across Sunny's face.

"I cannot believe you are even comparing the two right now. You said it yourself, one is Jeon Jungkook, and the other is Daehyun, a man you should've left in the dust months ago." Here we go again, you sigh.

"C'mon Y/n. He's an asshole, he's childish, he's bad in bed and honestly, the list should end there but no, he humiliated you in front of your family and he was caught in your sister's dm's on Christmas!!"

"It's May for god's sake and he's still stressing you out, and seeing you stressed makes me stressed. So why don't you come tomorrow, I'll keep you away from Jungkook if it comes to that, but please, you need to let loose a little and forget about him for just the weekend." She begs.

She could see you were starting to consider it.

"Please?" She pouts, giving you those same puppy eyes that convinced you to work here in the first place. "Please don't look at me like that, stop." You try to avoid her sorrowful gaze but It's like it intensifies to a point where you just can't look away, nor can you deny.

"Fine, fine. Okay, I'll go."

--

Considering you only just found out you were leaving the country yesterday, you think you did pretty good packing light but efficiently.

That's what you were thinking as you stepped behind Sunny onto the empty private jet. She'd already made arrangements to sit beside Namjoon.

She was crazy but you had to give the girl credit, she worked fast.

You weren't taking in a single thing, part of you was still in disbelief you had even seen the boys up close and personal yesterday.

This would all sink in for you in 5 years and then you'll be hit with a numbing regret of not doing things differently.

Or maybe it'll sink in for you right now, Jimin's full head of brown wavy hair is the first one you see to pop up on the plane and he flashes you a kind smile, taking a seat beside you.

He introduces himself as if you and half the world don't already know him but you engage anyway, giving him your name and the rest is history.

The flight was 11 hours so there was a lot of ground to cover between the two of you for the first 6 hours. Jimin was just such an easy person to open up with, any time you said something crazy you felt like he would have an even crazier story of his own to share.

He'd told you all about his first impressions of the guys to his first scandal that the label somehow managed to cover up because even you were in shock. It would have been over for him.

Then it was your turn, telling him about your exhausting boyfriend since it all started seven months ago.

"On Christmas?!" He shouts, "Why are you with him again?" You groan, "God you sound just like Sunny!"

The two of you were clearly enjoying your conversation while Sunny worked on getting Namjoon to talk a little bit about his past, trying to see if he really was the boy from all those years ago, but he seemed occupied reading his book and she wasn't going to interrupt him any longer. She sighs softly, looking out the window, watching the clouds fly by like art.

Meanwhile, at the front of the jet, Jungkook typed away on his laptop, sometimes blurbing some possible lyrics, but mostly keeping himself busy with a thousand rounds of Tetris. He tuned out the sound of your angelic laughter with his headphones, but it couldn't stop him from glancing to the back of the plane where you sat with Jimin every so often.

Only about an hour left before you landed and you really needed to pee but Jimin was in the way and fast asleep. You looked around, it seemed that everyone was fast asleep, but you really had to go.

Lightly tapping Jimin and asking him to let you through, he moves, half awake, just giving you enough time to pass before going back to his original position.

You exited the bathroom, nearly falling to the ground in horror when you came face to face with the man you'd nearly forgotten was on the jet. He smiles that classic bunny smile that the fans go crazy over.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He says it so sweetly, and in this hushed tone due to the late hour of the night it was making your head think things. Things that you should not be thinking about.

"You okay?" Checking in, seeing that you seemed to have zoned out mid-conversation. Shit. You were doing it again. "Y-yeah." You hated speaking to him it made you feel like you couldn't speak at all. He was just so tall, and his eyes were so big and endearing and-

"Really? Cause it looks like you've got something on your mind." It comes out in such a way that brings heat to your face, suddenly hyper-aware that everyone is asleep, and the two of you are out of sight in the narrow hall of the bathroom.

"Yeah, just excited for tomorrow." You lie, you felt sick to your stomach. He made you sick to your stomach. He gets a little closer, now close enough for you to be able to smell the soft cologne on his clothes. "What's got you so excited?"

It felt like you were watching yourself fall from the sky, it was slow but graceful, but you knew once you hit the bottom, things would get ugly. So you grew wings. "My boyfriend. We're planning on Facetiming tomorrow." It was like a repellant, the way he stepped back.

"Oh, that's nice." He mumbles and you take this opportunity to run back to your seat, hopping over Jimin and strapping yourself back in your seat, shaking your head over and over again.

This was a bad idea. You should not have come on this trip.

-

"She has a fucking boyfriend." Is the first thing Jungkook says to Yoongi and Jimin while the three sit in the back of the taxi that is en route to the hotel. Yoongi wasn't listening, still half asleep after only waking up 30 minutes ago. He would need a repeat of it all tomorrow.

"Pfft. Barely." Jimin mumbles. Triggering quite possibly the fasted head turn known to mankind, Jungkook looks at him with intrigue, "What do you mean by that."

"He's an asshole. Like a literal piece of shit, but she's still with him for whatever reason. It's gotta be Stockholm syndrome." Jimin shrugs. "But you can't tell her I told you this, I think she's pretty cool, so before you get your dick wet, think with your head first."

Yoongi hums in agreement with that one statement. He may be asleep but he knows a good statement when he hears one.

-

Jungkook did think. He thought about you all night. From the cab to the hotel, until he fell asleep and again when he woke up. Sure, you had a boyfriend, but it sounds like you shouldn't be with him, or at least deserved someone better.

The morning sun seeps through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the lavish surroundings. You and Sunny share a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the incredible experience that awaits. Or at least that's what Sunny thinks.

Instead, you retreat under the covers of your bed with an unpleasant sound. "How could I let you bring me here." Your voice is muffled and scratchy from it being the morning still. "Because you love me." She runs from her bed and jumps onto yours.

"Should we get room service?" She proposes and you slowly pull the covers down, revealing an interested expression. "Who's paying?" You ask. "Who cares! It's not us." She springs up and bounces for the phone.

By the late afternoon, you'd gotten an invite from Jimin, inviting you guys down to the pool, it was reserved just for them. "We're going, this isn't up for debate, Y/n. You said you would relax on this trip, so it's my job to make sure you do!" She pulls out the violet two-piece you'd packed in your luggage and shoves you into the bathroom, throwing the clothes in there with you after and shutting the door.

"I hate you y'know," you say from the other side of the door.

"You'll thank me one day, Y/n. One day."

-

There was a roar of cheers from the guys as the two of you walked into sight, the sun was beaming down on you and you were glad you brought your sunscreen.

Jungkook tried to be respectful to the sham of a relationship you were in but what was he supposed to do? You looked so hot in your bathing suit, you were so small but you still had curves in all the right places.

He just wanted to break you in half. Pin you down and-

A splash of water hits him in the face, "Stop eye fucking her and act like you've been neutered for once." Yoongi warns, swimming away before Jungkook could retaliate.

Jin calls Sunny into the water, and she just about jumped in while you were working on unwrapping your new bottle of sunscreen. Jungkook uses this as an opportunity. Looking down at the white shirt that was now soaked through, sticking to his abs he slowly steps out of the water.

Looking you right in the eyes as you shook the bottle. Now you were staring but you didn't care. You were looking at the son of Adonis, or maybe the god himself.

In the warm glow of the poolside sun, Jungkook emerged from the sparkling water, droplets cascading down his glistening skin. The pool's rippling surface bore witness to his athletic grace as he approached the pool chair where you reclined, still shaking the bottle.

His steps were confident, each one leaving a trail of water on the tiles beneath his feet. As he neared, he held your gaze with an intense, playful glint in his eyes. The air between you became charged with a magnetic energy, and a sly smile played on his lips.

With deliberate movements, Jungkook reached down to the hem of his white shirt, clinging to his sculpted physique. The fabric peeled away, revealing the contours of his toned abs. Beads of water followed the curves of his body, accentuating every defined muscle.

As the shirt came off, the sunlight caught on the droplets clinging to his skin, creating an ethereal effect. The sensual eye contact between the two of you intensified, creating a moment suspended in time. The poolside ambiance seemed to hush, allowing the connection between them to take center stage.

Your fist clenched, the sunscreen blurted out of the bottle, some landing on the smooth skin of your thigh but most hit the chair.

Jungkook's expression hinted at a playful confidence, acknowledging the allure of the moment. Your little accident told him all he needed to know. You wanted him.

Even if you didn't know it yet.

Wiping desperately at the sunscreen that had landed on you, a bigger hand comes to help. Gently rubbing the soft flesh of your thigh, Jungkook was crouched to your level with nothing more than a sincere smile as he helped you with your sunscreen.

Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water as you watched him from beside yourself. Unable to believe what was happening. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, and other places but you shook your head.

"Wh-what-" Jungkook looks up to you, moving his hand away. "My bad. I didn't mean to overstep, I just noticed that you'd spilt some of your sunscreen," He inches just a little closer so that you looked down at him from where you sat on your chair. "I'd hate for it to go to waste."

That mischievous tongue of his makes an appearance briefly as it swipes over his bottom lip before retreating; leaving behind glossy plump lips. It's not what he says, but how he says it.

Almost as though he wanted you to break.

You hated how he made you feel without saying anything out of the ordinary.

"You have to be shitting me," Yoongi curses to no one in particular as he watches Jungkook lean up towards you from where he was floating in the pool on the flamingo inflatable.

"You've gotta admit, the boy's determined." Jin adds while Hoseok shakes his head, "He just doesn't know when to give up."

--

Opening your hotel room door to see Jimin leaning against the wall waiting for you. He looked incredible in his black button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair swooped to perfection.

"About time." He kicks himself off the wall as you scoff, "Don't blame me, blame the dress." Your freshly manicured nail points to the red, velvet dress that left your chest exposed before it went under the halter neckline.

There was so much skin offered to anyone that looked at you. You looked absolutely stunning. The way the dress clung tightly to your curves was almost ungodly but made you seem even more angelic.

Twirling on your toes slowly to showcase the full rotation of your outfit and Jimin failed to suppress his gasp. The back- Your back was completely exposed safe for where the halter crossed behind your neck.

"You look hot, and I'm not just saying that." You grin, leading the way to the elevator and waiting for it to come up.

While you were watching the elevator screen, Jimin was watching you. Not lustfully or anything since he really did see the two of you becoming close friends in the future but his gaze was full of.. fear?

Jungkook was going to eat you alive tonight, and he was willing to put money on it.

The man has been able to show limited amounts of self-control since the trip began, and his little shirtless stunt at the pool earlier that day was proof.

The elevator dings and the doors open.

You step in, hearing your phone vibrating from within your maroon chain side bag. Digging through your various lipsticks, mini perfumes and hair pins you finally grab your buzzing device.

 Daehyun: When did you go to Vegas?? and how did you get there? 4:33 pm

 Daehyun: Baby, I'm sorry. I mean it. Stop Ignoring me. (now) 8:12 pm

You sigh, scrolling through your messages sadly. "Am I being too hard on him?" Jimin leans over to look at the messages, his face turning sour at Daehyun's messages. "I bet you he doesn't even know what he's apologizing for."

The elevator doors close, and Jimin presses the star symbol for the nightclub on the first floor where you would meet the others.

Shaking your head repeatedly, "No. That's impossible. He knows, Jimin. Trust me." He doesn't seem convinced in the slightest,

"Okay. Since you're so sure-" He snatched your phone from your grasp, his fingers moving at the speed of light and you panicked, reaching for the device but he held it high. "Jimin No-!"

"I said 'What are you apologizing for'. I won't send it if you don't want me to. But It seems like he's only apologizing because he knows he's in the wrong, but doesn't know what for."

The elevator dings, going down floor by floor, the silence slowly creeping up on you, "Send it." You say, and his thumb hits send.

The doors open.

You and Jimin step out into the club. Before you sprawled a vast expanse of vibrant colours. Neon lights adorned the walls, casting a kaleidoscope of hues that danced in rhythm with the music.

The dance floor, surrounded by elevated platforms and VIP booths, was the epicentre of the vibrant spectacle. Mirrored ceilings multiplied the dazzling display, creating a sense of endless sin.

"Do you know where they are?" You ask while Jimin leads the way into the crowd of hot bodies and blasting music, he glances down to the text from Tae, "Tae said they're in section 9." Maneuvering your way through the swarm of people until you meet up with the others.

Jimin walked up the steps first, the group's cheers blending in with the roars coursing throughout the rest of the club as he joined them with you closely behind, the cheers continuing for you with whistles once you reached the platform.

"Oh shit!" Sunny curses, rushing to your side to shower you with compliments. "I guess being 30 minutes late pays off, you look great." Tae welcomes you with a side hug and an invitation to sit beside him.

"You need to cool it." Jin pulls Jungkook in by the collar so that he could hear him over the music. Jungkook finally pulls his hungry gaze off of you and looks to his elder.

"You're making it way obvious, and obvious is not what you want. She has a boyfriend. There are hundreds of other girls here, find someone else." He lets him go and Jungkook shakes his head.

How Jin even found out that you had a boyfriend didn't phase him. The seven of them were as close as brothers, it was hard for him and Jimin to keep anything to themselves.

Hundreds of girls but they weren't you. He couldn't just switch it on and off. This wasn't as fun and playful as it once was before, he was starting to get addicted to the thought of you.

"You have any pre-rolls on you?" Jungkook leans over to Namjoon who was deep into a conversation with Sunny. Namjoon reaches inside the pocket of his blazer, "Never leave home without them."

"Great. I need a smoke." Jungkook huffs, standing, purposefully avoiding your gaze. God you looked so fucking fine in that dress, it made him crazy, sick to his stomach.

He's Jeon Jungkook for god's sake.

The concept of want is so unfamiliar to him. Any girl he wants could easily be in his bed the same day, but you-- he shakes his head bitterly-- you were giving him a hard time, all over what? some lame-ass boyfriend.

"Namjoon you comin' ?" He looks over his shoulder to see both him and Sunny standing, "Mind if I join?" She asks, "The more the merrier."

You watched as the three of them disappeared into the bustling crowd vanishing out of sight. "Where did they go?"

Tae leans forward looking at where the trio had just walked through. "Probably went to go ball up." Tae shrugs, "Which means it's time to really get this night started. First round on me."

It wasn't until three shots later when Jungkook had finally come back, this was the first time you really got a good look at him. He was wearing nothing but a black jacket that had the most delicate body chains striping across his abdomen, giving you a clear view of his sculpted abs and-

Your phone buzzes.

 You: Why are you apologizing? 8:13 pm

 Daehyun: Because you're upset. (now) 9:27 pm

God, Jimin might be right. He doesn't have a clue.

 You: Do you even know why I'm mad? 9:27 pm

 Daehyun: Is it because of the nudes I sent Soo-Min? I was drunk, I promise. It was a mistake. 9:28 pm

You gasp. You had no idea what he was talking about. You were referring to him standing you up when you told all your family that he would be coming. You never knew this had even happened.

 You: What the fuck are you talking about? 9:29 pm

 You: I cannot believe you right now. 9:29 pm

 You: Stop fucking texting me. 9:30 pm

You weren't even sad or disappointed. You were used to him letting you down constantly. "Looks like you need another shot." You look up from the screen in your lap, making eye contact with ringed fingers wrapped around a shot glass with your name on it.

You take the shot in your own grasp, looking Jungkook in the eyes as you down it. Your face wincing a little at the burn in the back of your throat but you were beginning to feel that exciting warmth in your chest.

The strobe lights turn red as Chris Brown's Take You Down begins to play through the loud speakers all around the club. "Wanna dance?" He offered you his hand, your brain was a little hazy and your cheeks were flushed but Jungkook was too hot to resist.

"Love to."

The two of you walk off to the dance floor with the rest of the crowd.

Taehyung looks to Jin who looks to Hoseok who looks to Yoongi.

Yoongi sighs, shaking his head slowly taking another shot. "It's out of my control. Once they step on that floor, their fate is sealed."

It's true, the moment Jungkook's hands were on your hips that swayed to the music you knew you were screwed. You had every right to be apprehensive about going on this stupid trip in the first place, but deep down you knew it was inevitable.

This very moment was destined from the start.

"You look fucking perfect tonight." He whispers in your ear from behind you, subconsciously pushing your hips back on him and Jungkook could swear he's never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you at this very moment.

"Says you," You spin in his hold, now face to face.

His grip on your hips tighten, body unable to maintain its façade for much longer. Your hair was up in a bun tonight, showing off the industrial piercing he never even knew you had.

There were so many things he wanted to know about you, and not just physically. He wanted to be able to sit with you over a cup of coffee and talk about everything and anything.

His tight hold on you prompted a breathless whine to escape your lips but he heard it. "Stop it." He says and your eyebrows scrunch, genuinely confused. "Stop what?"

"Stop tempting me. I'm trying to be respectful." Astonishment wipes over your features. "You're telling me to stop? It's been you all along, making me trip over my words, and being so shirtless and hot all the time, making me forget I have a boyfriend." He chuckles.

"So you admit it. You think about me too?"

You step back.

"Yes, Jungkook. I cannot stop thinking about you and that's my problem. I need to get you out of my head." Your mouth was saying one thing, but with the way he was looking at you, your heart wanted him between your legs.

The almost forgotten feeling of lust finally coursed through your veins. It'd been so long since you'd gotten any action, you needed this.

But you couldn't.

He steps towards you, even closer than before. You could feel his firm body crowding against your own. The way he towered over you made you feel dizzy. He leaned down, ensuring that you could feel his warm breath on the shell of your ear when he spoke "Tell me you don't want me and I'll walk away."

You don't want him. you lie to yourself.

Trying to put these thoughts into words, your mouth opens.

"I need you, Jungkook." Finally admitting it.

There was no going back now, his lips crashed against yours with nothing less than an animalistic desire. It was fast-paced and messy but you loved it.

The dam finally broke.

You kissed with more than your lips, his hands on your waist, squeezing tight as he rolled his hips into you with the rhythm of the music.

This was so so wrong, but it felt so right.

The way his tongue rolled over your bottom lip with such skill made your thighs clench, you could only imagine the things he could do with it--

"Y/n!" Sunny screams your name from behind you, not even processing what you and Jungkook had just been doing while Namjoon was busy enjoying the music behind her.

You turned around, a little breathless and bothered after being disrupted but you were immediately occupied with analyzing Sunny's appearance. For starters her hair was ruffled and looked like it'd been put through the wringer, her lipstick (what was left of it) was fading and a little smudged.

And last that you checked she was wearing lashes when the night began but they were nowhere to be found. "Sunny where did you go-- Oh my god- Did you and Namjoon-" Her non-stop nodding causes you to clasp your hand over your mouth.

"It's him! He remembers me!" The two of you have your moment, squealing before Jungkook whispers in your ear. "Meet me at the elevator in 5." Sunny actually does catch on this time.

"Oh my god!? Are you gonna-"

You think about it, "I don't know!! Should I?! Daehyun just voluntarily admitted to sending nudes to Soo-Min god knows when and-" Sunny groans. "Leave him, for the love of god y/n stand up!" She yells.

"I can't just leave him he's my boyfriend, and it wouldn't make me any better than him." Sunny's eyes roll. "It won't be cheating if you plan on breaking up with his ass tonight. Just hurry up and decide, Jungkook's waiting for you." She winks and it gives you butterflies.

He was waiting for you.

The moment you turned the corner of the hallway, you saw Jungkook waiting outside the elevator as he said he would be, finally pressing the button. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," he laughs internally to himself at the double entendre, knowing Jungkook's track record, this has never been an issue for him.

The two of you step inside the elevator, it would be a long ride up to the 21st floor, the two of you did your best to stay to your respective sides of the elevator until there was a crowd of people that entered as well, pushing you into him.

Completely oblivious to the way your ass was pressed flush against his crotch, he looks up to the ceiling, wondering what he'd done in his past life to deserve this kind of punishment.

A beautiful girl pressed up against him but he couldn't do anything. As the crowd moved, so did you he hisses and your body stills, finally aware of what you were doing.

On the 13th floor the elevator empties completely, leaving just the two of you and you try to move away from him but his grip holds you in place. "Didn't think you'd be running from me so soon." You'd never heard his voice like this. It was deeper, bass full of wants and desires,

He spins you around, he had you cornered.

Looking up to him with that doe gaze of yours. His index finger gently rests under your chin, your gaze was practically begging him to kiss you, but in case he was hesitating you nodded just a little, permitting him to open your lips with his.

This kiss was a lot slower and deeper than the one before. It was soft and sweet, but slowly turned into a full-blown make-out session by the time the elevator made it to the 21st floor.

He leads the way to his room at the end of the hall, beside Hoseok's room.

Jungkook worked on unlocking the door while you chewed on the tip of your acrylic. Were you really about to do this?

"I'm going in my room, and you don't have to follow, but I'm leaving the door unlocked." He says, disappearing behind the door. Looking over your shoulder, your room was 4 doors down.

You could still back out now, it wasn't too late.

All you would need to do is have a long talk with Daehyun.

You scoff, even his name irritated you. Your heart knew things weren't going to work out between the two of you once you got back home, regardless of whether you slept with Jungkook or not.

He's broken your trust far too many times, and besides, Sunny was right, he is an asshole.

You walk into Jungkook's room and make sure to lock the door behind you.

"That's my girl," He purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before gracing you with a heated kiss, the kind of kiss that made you stumble as he walked you back to the door.

"Hope you put that phone on dnd." He whispers, kissing down your neck, skillfully managing to take your hair down at the same time. You looked like the epitome of sin, hair falling over your shoulders as if it fell from grace while your neck was littered with hickeys, your plump bottom lip tugged between those perfect teeth of yours.

Your dress was the first thing to go, he loved it on you, but it served its purpose, and it did it well. Soon his jacket was finally off revealing his muscular build that you'd seen in the fan cams but it couldn't compare to the real thing.

You kissed him back desperately as your legs were wrapped around his waist while he made his way to the bed, dropping you down to your back watching the way you bounced.

Your perfect tits are the first victim of his passionate affection. Leaving tender kisses on the soft flesh, "Jungkook-" you gasp feeling him wrap his lips around your nipples, tongue working hard to push you towards that edge that you'd been inching closer to since you got in here.

He groans as he feels your hands roam over his back, anticipating the feeling of your nails scratching his skin. Finally moving down from your breasts once they were covered with his kisses and hickeys.

You could feel yourself practically soaking through your under, not to mention the way it was sticking to you. "Looks like someone's worked up," he teases, slowly peeling you out of your ruined underwear.

"What's got you so hot and bothered, is it your boyfriend?" You sit up so fast almost getting a head rush and he laughs. "Jungkook." You say and he gives you a look of lust. "What? Say it baby, use your words. Tell me who makes you this wet. Is it me or him?"

You press your legs together, unable to believe that this was turning you on more. "He couldn't turn me on." He looks up to you with wide eyes. "Is that so?" Nodding your head slowly, letting Jungkook gently push you back down to the bed.

On his knees he takes a deep breath at your core, a guttural sound rumbling in his chest as he was face to face with your dripping core. "So you're saying it's me?" he asks, letting his tongue run a flat stripe against your soaked folds.

"YES! It's you Jungkook please, stop teasing, please I can't take it. I'm already so close." You beg, body thrashing around enough for him to pin your legs over his shoulder and to keep you still.

You were stroking his ego, telling you you were already so close and he's barely touched you. Your boyfriend must've been shit in bed, and he was determined to make it up to you. He was going to show you what you've been missing.

Finally eating you out to his heart's content, ignoring the way your feet continued to move frantically over his shoulders he lapped up at your core, flicking his tongue over your clit until your body spasmed uncontrollably. "I'm-" Unable to even finish the sentence before you were blinded by an earth-shattering orgasm.

It ripped through you like a storm and came squirting out of you just like one too. "You've got to fucking kidding me," Jungkook murmurs to himself and you froze. Was he mad?

He stands up, "Of course the hottest girl I've ever seen squirts on my tongue. Good fucking hell, Y/n. It's like you want me obsessed with you." Who was he kidding, he was already obsessed.

He picked you up so carelessly, bringing you to the balcony where it overlooked the Las Vegas strip. You could see the hotel's illuminated pool and all the car lights as they zoomed on the highway far in the distance.

"Hope you're not scared of heights."

Your stomach twisted at the thought of being so high up, but it was all forgotten once your leg was propped up and you felt your folds being prodded open by the fat head of Jungkook's cock.

"No- fuck! Wait." you cursed feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of his size nearly causing you to fall but he held you steady against the railing, bulging biceps on either side of your body, caging you in safely.

Jungkook knew better, this should be the last place he should be doing something like this but with your pretty ass right in front of him it was such a beautiful sight, and the scenery was cool too.

"It's too much," you pant, arms bracing yourself on the fence that kept you from falling 200 feet below. "It's only the tip baby, you sure you can take the whole thing?" You pause in thought, you needed him, all of him. "I can take it. keep going." You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every nook and cranny of your womb.

It felt like he was in your lungs, you were knocked breathless, and he didn't move. Your body went limp in his arms, exactly what he feared would happen. He quite literally split you open, but you were determined to take it.

You clawed at the railing desperately, looking for any kind of relief from what you were feeling. "Deep breaths baby, I'll go slow." You nod, eyes squeezed shut as his hips slowly roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in.

"Oo-oh. fuck. Jungkook, keep going." you moan, head falling onto your hands; feeling what was once pain morphs into an addicting, sweet pleasure, over time his pace picks up until he was fucking into you with no remorse.

Even if no one could see you from this high up, they sure as hell could hear you. The way you cried out his name like a prayer over and over while Jungkook's brain was short-circuiting with the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds it created.

"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this, huh?" He angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace even though you've already come twice now. Your body jolts with each snap of his hips.

You shake your head, but that isn't enough for him, flipping you around so that you're facing him, he pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Use your words Y/n. You're my smart girl, look me in the eyes and tell me that your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do." Your eyes snap open, "He c-could never fuck-!" Jungkook slowed down his thrusts to something so much deeper, your eyes rolled and Jungkook nearly came just at the sight.

"Shit, I'm gonna come." He pants, and with a few more erratic thrusts you feel his warm cum fill you up. He slowly lets you stand but your legs fail you immediately. Scooping you up in his arms effortlessly he brings you to the bed, clearly not done with you.

That's how you found yourself on the brink of your third orgasm while Jungkook plowed into you from behind, obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock.

Your arms had given out long ago hence why your cheek was smushed into the sheets of the bed while you whimpered like a whore. "God you should look at yourself," He laughs almost maniacally from behind you.

Feeling himself approach his climax, "Jungkook- please!" you cried out, the friction only adding to the stimulation, "m' gonna-" you try to get back up on your arms but you couldn't move.

"I wonder what your boyfriend would say if he saw you like this,'' A wicked smile spreads across his lips as he reaches for your phone that was forgotten somewhere on the bed, hitting record.

Pulling you up onto your arms, tugging your hair by a makeshift ponytail, the flash highlights the various bruises all over your body left by yours truly. The audio was picking up his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the room was quiet enough you could probably hear the welt squelch of your cunt sucking in his length with each push.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You cry out, coming once more and your body goes limp, Jungkook ends the recording and tosses the phone to the side while he chases his own high finishing soon after you.

He pulls out slowly, "Y/n, baby? Are you with me?" He taps your cheek gently, and your eyes barely open, "I think you fucked the soul out of me," He dares to flash you a nervous smile as if he hadn't just fucked you dumb.

"Come, let's get you cleaned up."

-

"That was one hell of a trip." You mumble to Sunny on the phone as you wheel your suitcase down the hall to the door of your apartment where there was a big bouquet of flowers.

"Oh my god," You say, crouching down, wincing a little as you did to read the card. "What?" Sunny asks and you explain what you were seeing.

"Do you think they're from Daehyun?" You scoff, "Fat chance."

You open the envelope to read the card aloud,

'To the hottest girl. We should get donuts sometime, I heard you like them cream-filled ;) Text me sometime xxx-xxx-xxx. -J.K'

Sunny squealed in your ear.

"I'll call you back." You say, dialling Jungkook's number.

"Hello?" He answers.

"You got me flowers?" You couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face, and he could hear it. He closed his fridge and leaned on the counter, "You like 'em?"

Holding the vase in your hand you take a deep sniff, "I love them."

He shakes his head. "This is so sad. You're too easy to impress. Let me treat you better than that jerk, Y/n." Your mouth falls open-

"How- What?"

"Jimin mentioned the details to me but don't get mad at him; it doesn't change the fact that the guy is an asshole." You sigh.

"I know."

"So?" Jungkook starts, waiting for you to say something.

"I think you mentioned something about cream-filled donuts. When and where?"

He smiles.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Reciprocal.

Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader (+Scaramouche) [Genshin].

Word Count: 4.4k.

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

TW: Modern AU, AFAB!Reader, Non/Con, Oral Sex, Slight Corruption Kink, Cucking, Mentions of Blood/Violence, Obsessive Behavior, Implied Stalking, Reader and Scaramouche Are In A Long-Term Relationship, and Nonconsensual Drug Use. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

Not a lot of people really understood why you loved your boyfriend as much as he loved you.

Not to say you didn’t get why. You knew he came off – rough, brash, jarring apathetic at best and openly antagonistic at worst. He was jealous, and childish, and you’d chided him more times than you could possibly count for arguing with your friends and picking fights with strangers and generally treating the world like a malicious, erratic entity that’d either take you away from him or turn you against him if given even the slightest chance. He wasn’t possessive, or over-protective, just… worried. In a line of work like his, he had a good reason to be, but that wasn’t exactly something you could explain to other people.

Kuni was aggressive, and loud, and disruptive. But, he was kind, too, and he had a soft spot for kids and animals, and he knew how to be gentle with you, even though you’d never taken the time to teach him. He bristled and pouted when you mentioned doing something without him, sure, but he’d never put his fist through a wall or pretended he could ever spend any amount of time mad at you, even if he didn’t like the things that took you away from him. His job was dangerous, and he had a right to be paranoid, but it didn’t matter how much of a drooling, snapping guard dog he made himself out to be to the rest of the world – not when he came home and fell into your arms, as docile and as loving as a housecat. Most importantly, Kuni loved you, and that was enough for you to love him just as much.

Hence why you panicked when you woke up hours past midnight to an empty apartment, the space next to you cold where your Kuni should’ve warmed it. Hence why you didn’t think twice before getting out of bed when you noticed an unread text sent from Kuni, asking you to meet him at his coworker’s apartment, vaguely hinting at an injury bad enough to keep him from coming straight home to you. Hence why you were now on that coworker’s doorstep, barely dressed and still holding your breath, in the middle of the night. Because you knew that Kunikuzushi loved you.

And, unfortunately, you loved him too.

You’d already knocked – twice, in fact – but you couldn’t hold still. You checked your phone. You tried to call Kunikuzushi, but to no avail – cutting straight to his voicemail after the first ring. You glanced to either side, wary of having to explain yourself to any passing residents before remembering that you were standing in front of the door to a penthouse in a building that seemed to balk at the idea of having more than one tenant per floor. Finally, you raised your hand to knock a third time, but the door swung inward before you had a chance. An ocean’s worth of relief washed over you all at once, and mindlessly, you threw yourself forward, wrapping your arms around Kuni’s ne—

“Woah there.” And then, with an airy laugh, “It’s good to see you too, (Y/n).”

 You jerked back suddenly enough to throw yourself off-balance, but a pair of hands caught you by the shoulders, keeping you on your feet. For the first time, you thought to glance up, to recognize that the man in front of you was very much not your boyfriend and that you’d had very little reason to believe it would be. It took you a long second of staring blankly at his disheveled ginger hair and startlingly bright eyes for you to place him as ‘Childe’ – Kuni’s coworker, probably the one he complained about the most often. You’d known him as long as you’d known Kuni – met them on the same day, in fact – but the two of you weren’t close. He was the extraverted type, friendly to the point of agitation. The type of person that you felt exhausted after so much as thinking about spending time with, for lack of a kinder way to put it.

That didn’t matter, though. You’d spend the rest of your life singing his praises if he told you that Kuni was alright.

“Childe, where’s K—” You cut yourself, trying to remember what Kuni had asked you to call him around his work-friends. “Where’s Scaramouche?”

Another laugh, this one more full-bodied than the last. “Right, right. You’re just like him – all business, no pleasure.” He stepped back, retreating into his apartment and gesturing for you to follow. “Could you lock the door behind you? We’ve already had a pretty rough night.”

You nodded vacantly, only half-listening as you scuttled into his apartment and hastily slid the most accessible four out of a total six deadbolts into place. Childe walked ahead of you, making his way to an open kitchenette and riffling through his cabinets as he went on. “Sorry for dragging you all the way out here. Normally, I try to keep this place reserved for espionage-purposes only, but tonight was kind of an emergency. I’d give you the details, but—” He flashed you a smile, fishing two mismatched mugs from the highest shelf. “Ignorance is bliss, right?”

It took a remarkable amount of self-restraint not to scream. “Did Scaramouche get hurt?”

“Coffee? Tea? I’ve got wine, too, if you need something stronger.” You crossed your arms over your chest, digging your nails into your sleeves. “Oh, actually, maybe I don’t. Like I said, I’ve got a homier place out of the city, but my younger sister really loves the vi—”

“Childe.” Your tone was curt, cutting. Immediately, he shut his mouth, looking towards you. You sighed, taking pains to emphasize each individual word, as if he wouldn’t hear your desperation unless you all-but spelled it out for him. “Is. My. Boyfriend. Alive?”

Immediately, his expression softened. “Of course, angel – didn’t I mention that? He just got a little banged up. I think he’s still sleeping it off in my bedroom.” Instantly, you crumpled into yourself, shutting your eyes and letting out a deep, relieved exhale. Childe didn’t move to comfort you, but his voice took on a softer undertone – like he was trying to be a little more sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known you’d want to see him right away, but it’s so late, and you seemed so worried, I figured a pick-me-up might be…” He struggled, his head lulling to the side. “…helpful?”

And people wondered why you preferred Kuni. At least he pretended to respect your time.

But, you were in Childe’s home, and he was right – it was very late and you were very, very tired. “…tea would be nice,” you admitted, collapsing into the nearest seat – the stool at a small, impeccably clean bar attached to his kitchen. “Thank you. And I’m sorry, it’s just— It can just be so much, especially with what happened to Signora. The stress gets to me, sometimes.”

Childe hummed. In less than a minute, a mug of hot, murky tea was set in front of you, and you drank greedily – suddenly aware of how strung-out you felt after rushing half-way across the city in the middle of the night. If he cared about your manners (or lack thereof), you couldn’t tell. Childe only grinned as he sat down next to you, propping his chin on his fist. “Honestly, I’m surprised he even told you about all this. My siblings still think I’m a toy salesman.” It was your turn to stifle a laugh. You were so used to Kuni that it was difficult to imagine him passing himself off as anything less than what he was. To a lesser extent, that went for Childe, too. His ‘innocent big brother’ act couldn’t have been very convincing. “It’s amazing that you’ve stayed with him. There aren’t a lot of people who’d put up with that, and Scaramouche doesn’t seem like the appreciative type.”

You shrugged, draining your mug entirely. “He’s hard to read, but he cares about me,” you replied, when you were finished. “The least I could do is care about him, too. Even if I do kinda wish he’d make it a little easier for me.”

Childe didn’t respond, not immediately. When you looked to him, his smile had softened into something more sincere, more sentimental. “Lucky guy,” he muttered, and you were suddenly aware of how long he’d been staring at you. “When you’re all mine, I promise I won’t stay out a second past midnight.”

It took you a moment to catch his phrasing (‘when’ rather than ‘if’), another to process why such a simple slip-up was enough to make your stomach turn. Rather than address it, you let your eyes fall back into your lap and drummed your fingertips nervously against the side of your mug. “…do you think Scaramouche’s awake, yet?”

“Oh, angel.” He leaned toward you, cocking his head to the side. The gesture didn’t seem as innocent as it had a few minutes ago. “You really believed that? And here I thought you just wanted to spend a little more time with me.”

Alright. Cool. Great. Without thinking, you tried to stand, but your body was suddenly uncooperative, less numb and more woefully disobedient. You tried to get your feet on the ground, to grip the edge of the bar, but as soon as you tried to lift your own weight, you crumpled; buckling onto the countertop as Childe watched on, passive and simpering. You tried to open your mouth, to yell, but your jaw suddenly felt so slack, your tongue heavy and beyond your control. It was all you could do to snap towards Childe, your panic silent but more than apparent. He just shook his head, letting out a low whistle as he pushed himself onto his feet.

“Your little boyfriend mentioned that you were a lightweight. I didn’t think it’d be this bad, though.” You felt his arm wrap around your waist, another looping under the bend of your knees. Effortlessly, he lifted you off of your stool and hauled you against his body, your shoulder knocking clumsily into his chest. You felt something nuzzle into the side of your neck, and choose to believe it wasn’t his face. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he muttered, his voice low and his delight palpable. “Try to keep your eyes open. I promise, I won’t do anything unless I know you’re here to enjoy it, too.”

The sentiment provided less comfort than he seemed to think it would.

Your body might’ve been out of your control, but you were still very much conscious and, even worse, very much aware. Your eyes flitted over the blank walls of his apartment as he passed through different rooms and hallways, eventually coming to a door nestled as far from the main body of the apartment as possible. With a shallow grunt, Childe shouldered it open and stepped into a bedroom – this space only slightly more personalized than the rest of his apartment. The walls were still that bland, non-descript grey, the bed sheets a respectable wine red, but you caught a wallet and phone left on the otherwise untouched dresser, the disparate pieces of a blood-stained suit hanging in the closet he’d left open. A few polaroids of a figure you couldn’t make out were piled on the bedside table, and your boyfriend was slumped over in a chair in the far right corner.

…

Okay, so maybe your mind was a little more affected than you’d thought.

Childe hadn’t been lying when he said Kuni got hurt. His shirt was unbuttoned, pushed far back on his shoulders, revealing the bandages wrapped around his shoulder, his side – both visibly damp with fresh blood. More damningly, he was restrained. Even at a glance, you could make out the silver cuff binding his wrists to the arms of his chair, the braided ropes doing the same for his ankles. He’d been gagged, but not blindfolded. You’d never seen his eyes so wide.

No amount of paralytics could’ve stopped you from thrashing against Childe’s loose hold. You squirmed and writhed, kicking weakly at his legs and shoving haphazardly at his chest – doing whatever you could just to get away from him. “K-Kuni,” you called, your voice hoarse and trembling. You heard him try to say something behind his gag, but if it was anything intelligible, it’s meaning was lost behind the buzzing in your ears, the sound of blood rushing through your veins. Childe made a half-hearted attempt to hush you, and you snapped in his direction, baring your teeth. “Let me go, I can’t—He’s hurt—”

“He’s fine, babydoll. Don’t pay him any mind.” You tried to throw your elbow into his stomach, but there was no real force behind the blow – a kitten burrowing its milk teeth into the throat of a lion. “Kuni…” He mumbled as if you hadn’t moved at all. “Is that his real name? You can call me ‘Ajax’, if you want. I don’t mind Childe, though, not when you’re the one saying it.”

You could’ve strangled him. You might’ve if he hadn’t abruptly dropped you, letting your body collapse onto the center of his bed. You made a desperate attempt to scramble to the nearest edge, but you’d barely hauled yourself onto your knees before he was on top of you - his hands around your waist, nudging you gently onto your back. Again, you tried to struggle, but all you managed to scrape up was an airy fractured whimper quickly drowned out by Childe’s laugh, the weight of his body as it slotted against yours. One hand remained on your waist while the other pressed into the mattress next to your head, his chest a hair’s width from making contact with yours. You’d never known Childe very well, and yet, it still surprised you to see just how lifeless his eyes seemed, when you thought to look closely.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the day we met,” he muttered, nearly under his breath. “We were on a job, had some time to kill between clients. He didn’t even notice you, just saw that I was about to get my hands on something I liked and decided to be competitive. I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have let him get to you first.”

He paused, his smile taking on a manic note. “I’ll never let it happen again.”

And then, he was kissing you. Surprisingly, you quickly found that you preferred his rambling. It was messier than it had any right to be, considering he was the only one moving. You liked the way Kunikuzushi kissed you – delicately, tenderly, never quite trepidatious but always careful enough to warrant your active and enthusiastic participation, if you wanted anything more than a quick peck to your cheek. Childe wasn’t Kunikuzushi, though, and he wasn’t careful with you – at least, no more careful than he had to be to make sure his teeth didn’t draw blood as they scraped clumsily over your lips. His tongue raked over yours, and as far as you could tell, he wasn’t happy unless he was on the verge of tearing your jaw from its hinges and making it that much easier for him to crawl inside of you. You were thankful when he finally pulled away, but it was difficult to appreciate the way he panted against the curve of your neck; pressing long open mouthed kisses into vulnerable skin as his hands fumbled with the hem of your top. You tried to sit up, to see Kuni, but you were too weak to speak, let alone move. That might’ve been a small mercy, in retrospect. The last thing you needed to see was the love of your life’s expression while his polar opposite sunk his teeth into your throat.

Your shirt went first – dragged over your head as Childe pulled you into another hasty kiss, this one blessedly short-lived when compared to the first. You’d gotten dressed in a rush, meaning you weren’t wearing anything underneath your shorts, something Childe acknowledged with a sharpened edge to his grin, a hopeful murmur of “All for me?” He pried himself off of you as he worked, settling into the space between your open legs. You heard something heavy and forceful slam into the wall on the other side of Childe’s bedroom, but didn’t process that it must’ve been Kuni for long, blissful minutes.

It was only when you felt his hand cup your cunt that you snapped back into your own mind – your hands darting to his wrist, as if that would be a violent enough protest to stop him. Of course, it wasn’t, and of course, his expression only grew more saccharine as he ran two fingers down the length of your slit, his gazing fixed unblinkingly on the apex of your thighs. “So pretty…” And then, making no attempt to hide his self-satisfaction, “Scara’s never been this nice to you, has he?”

Despite your lack of control, you felt your entire body stiffen. “You can’t—”

“But, angel, I think I have to.” He leaned down, his lips brushing over your navel, then the arch of your pelvic bone. “Can’t just let a pussy this pretty go to waste, now, can I?”

You shut your eyes, but not quickly enough. You still caught the sight of Childe’s hand curling around your thighs, of his tongue lapping over your cunt before everything went dark.

It was difficult to say why you and Kuni never slept together. Part of it was mutual aversion – he was cagey about everything, his body included, and even with more readily intimate partners, you’d never really had an interest in sex, especially if it meant pushing Kuni into something you didn’t want and that he wasn’t comfortable with. You’d been more than happy not to think about it at all, but looking back, you wished you had leaned a little more into it, if only so you weren’t so startled by the heat of Childe’s mouth against your pussy. Immediately, it was too much – your thighs snapping shut around his head as his tongue laved over you, circling your clit, dipping into your entrance. Childe only let a throaty moan, deep enough to leave you clenching your eyes shut that much tighter, gritting your teeth as you swallowed back your reactions – pained or otherwise. There was no way Kuni, your Kuni could’ve ever thought you were enjoying this, but still. You didn’t want to make this any harder for him than it had to be.

(You made a point of not thinking about yourself. You didn’t know if you’d be able to survive this, if you made the mistake of considering how you were supposed to live with yourself when it was over.)

For all his talk, he couldn’t have had much experience. He was experimental, overeager – never satisfied with abusing your clit or attempting to fuck his tongue into you when he could be splitting his attention between both. Eventually, one of his hands fell away from your thigh, his middle and ring fingers slipping into your (admittedly, humiliatingly accommodating) entrance and splitting apart, adding yet another sensation to the list of things you’d spend the rest of your life trying to forget. You wanted to cover your face, to pry his head out of the space between your thighs, but lifting your arms seemed like a Herculean task, and the most you could manage was digging your nails into the bed sheets and hoping, praying that it would be over soon.

It was a few seconds later that, with a bittersweet tinge, you realized you’d get what you wanted.

Childe was sloppy, but effective – a soldier left untrained but devoted to the cause, nonetheless. You felt something alien and amorphous tighten in your lower stomach, a new pressure joining the hollow weight in your chest as he curled his fingers and found something sensitive, something vulnerable, something easy to exploit. It would’ve been better to brace yourself, to pretend it wasn’t happening at all, but panic instantly overshadowed your sense of logic, and your mouth was open before you had a chance to stop yourself. “Don’t,” you spat, reaching out blindly, your hand finding his hair. This time, his reaction was less of a moan and more of a growl. “Please, stop, stop—”

If he cared whether you were begging him to get away from you or singing his praises, you couldn’t tell. He seemed to melt, nuzzling into the plush of your thigh while burying his face that much deeper into your cunt. You could feel his smirk bite into your skin as his lips sealed around your clit and sucked. Instantly, you were thrown over the ledge; your body stiffening as your vision burnt white behind your eyelids. It was a miracle that you managed not to moan, but the prolonged, wavering whine that was forced out of you instead wasn’t much better.

Your self-restraint was a miracle, and Childe’s impatience was a mercy. He drew back hastily, his mouth finding the inside of your thigh, then the jut of your hipbone – eager to keep some part of you pressed against some part of him at all times. It would’ve been more bearable if that kept his mouth too busy to talk, and yet, he still found a way to strip you of even that comfort. “So good for me,” he mumbled, interrupted constantly by his own desperate need to suck and lap at every softened, tender spot you had. “I knew he had to be neglecting you, no way someone like him could ever take care of something like this. You don’t have to worry – I’m not gonna be that mean to you. I couldn’t, even I wanted to.” He paused, bowing his head and stifling a laugh. “Don’t think I could ever go another day without taking care of that pretty pussy.”

But, his altruism proved short-lived. With a raspy groan, he pulled away from you, allowing just enough distance for the sound of shifting fabric and the sudden heat of something vile and unthinkable to fill the space. Again, you were talking before you could stop yourself – as if you hadn’t already tried asking him not to. As if the sound of your voice had done anything but spur him on. “Please don’t, I’m not—I haven’t—” And then, meeting his prying gaze, as every thought seemed to catch and stick in your throat, “I’ve never done this before, Ajax.”

He stopped moving above you, but his eyes never broke away from yours. “You’re a virgin?”

It seemed so juvenile when he said it aloud, so trivial. Reluctantly, you nodded.

Impossibly, his expression seemed to brighten.

He was so annoyingly vocal. There was another soft groan as he straightened his back, a grunt with no real strain behind it as he pulled your limp body into his arms. You almost let yourself relax as he carried you off of the bed and across the bedroom, but any relief you might’ve been able to feel evaporated in an instant as he all-but dropped you in front of Kunikuzushi, now rigid in his restraints. You could see dried tear tracks tracing lines down his cheeks, a hostile grimace in the corner of his lips. He must’ve been crying, but he wasn’t anymore. That was good. You’d always hated seeing Kuni cry.

Unable to support yourself, you started falling towards him, but Childe was there to catch you – his arm winding around your waist, pulling you into his lap. “You’re so perfect,” he muttered, before looking toward Kuni. “Be thankful. You’ve got the best seat in the house.”

There was a second of stilted silence, a reassuring squeeze to your side. Distantly, you felt Childe bury his face in the crook of your neck and drag you flush against him, aligning the head of his leaking cock with your entrance. His hips ground into your ass in a reflexive, sort of bucking motion, and just like that, he was inside of you.

You heard Childe’s breath catch, then a whimper in your own voice. At the same time, something cracked, and you noticed that Kuni was gripping the arm of his chair with enough force to splinter the wood. You hoped he wouldn’t hurt himself.

Childe proved to be tragically energetic. With another partner, your paralysis might’ve made things difficult, but he seemed more than happy to bounce you in his lap, grinding and thrusting into you from below in turns, moaning and mewling whenever your traitorous body tightened around him. Again, you found yourself wishing that you’d rushed Kuni just a little more – if only so you’d be better at blocking out the feeling of defined veins grinding against the walls of your cunt, of his considerable size stretching you to your limits. His hands were everywhere – kneading at your chest, groping for purchase near your waist, rubbing quick, tight, awful little circles into your clit – but you did your best not to care, not to react, not to acknowledge the airy gasps and miserable sobs trickling past your lips every time Childe’s body pressed flat against yours. You could hear him talking, something about ‘the next nine months’ and ‘loving husband’, but the specifics were lost on you. You’d never been able to stand the sound of his voice, and tonight hadn’t done much to endear you to it.

His climax (and, by extension, yours) was embarrassing. Best not to mention it.

The sound of Childe’s panting filled the room, only occasionally accompanied by your little, pitiful cries. His grip loosened at some point, most likely to let him admire the way his cum dripped from your entrance where it was still stretched around his cock, and only half-intentionally, you lulled into Kuni’s lap, crossing your arms over his legs and staring blankly at his beautiful face. It took a few tries, but eventually, you managed to reach up and hook your thumb around his gag, pulling it down with some effort. As the thin piece of fabric fell limp around his neck, he spoke.

“I’m going to kill him.” And then, his voice still cold as ice, “I love you.”

For the first time, you weren’t sure you entirely believed him.

[jhdyuiee]

unconditional

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ pairing: ex-bf!jaehyun x fem!reader

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ warnings/tags: smut!, angst (first day back & i’m breaking yall’s hearts, sorry!!!), unprotected sex, oral (f&m receiving), multiple positions, multiple orgasms, cum eating, marking/biting, smacking, tit/breast play, making out/kissing, fingering, name calling (good girl) and pet names (love), jaehyun is jealous type, rough jaehyun, cliffhanger/mysterious ending (also sad)

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ w.c: 2.7k

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ a.n: hi, jiji is back! hm, it’s been a while. in all honesty, this abrupt break i decided to take worked out in the end bcs school has been a big pain in the ass as of late & so writing has gotten hard. i also would like to apologize once more for honestly everything. however i am back now and yes, yes i know jaehyun leaves tomorrow… sigh, let’s just say that for now bcs if not i’ll start tearing up, lol. don’t forget to stay safe guys, i love you very dearly & thank you for waiting, i will be back with so much more! 🤍

the rain came pouring down hard and unexpectedly. you were not prepared for this at all, so you took shelter inside a cafe. you settled on waiting until the rain calmed down so you could go home.

staring at the gloomy weather made you rather gloomy as well. you never had fond memories of the rain, no dancing in the rain with your lover. instead, it was almost as if the rain brought your life some type of bad luck.

“y/n?” a male voice calls for you, causing you to turn.

your eyes widened, lips slightly parting at the person who stood in front of you.

“jaehyun?” you say lowly, low enough for the two of you to hear.

his face too changes, it’s almost like he’s trying to process it really was you who was in front of him. you took him in, noting how he hasn’t changed in the 5 years since you’d parted. in fact you’d say he got even more… hotter?

“it really is you,” he says breathlessly, to which you nod. “i-is the seat taken?” he asks as he points to the seat in front of you.

“n-no” you respond. he sits down, looking right at you.

“how have you been?” he starts off by asking.

“well… i-i suppose i’ve been fine. how about you?”

he thinks for a second before responding. “i could be better,” he says, chuckling. your heart nearly melting at the sight of his dimples, the very ones you used to adored.

he asks you more questions about how the past 5 years had gone, you too gaining insight on his past 5 years. there was never any mention if you or him were in a relationship during the past 5 years, it was almost like a forbidden topic.

you mindlessly turn to the window, noting how the rain had finally stopped but the clouds were still there. you didn’t know whether to leave mid-conversation or stay a while longer. it had been 5 years, 5 excruciating years without him… to leave him now was-

“are you going to leave?” his questions bring you back to him.

your mouth opens, then closes, and opens again but he interrupts. “don’t leave… not yet. instead, please stay with me for today y/n,” he asks.

you didn’t even hesitate, already settling on your answer before he even finished asking you. you two leave the cafe, you follow him walking alongside him under his umbrella. your head filled with the endless possibilities of how today could go and where the night would lead you.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“y/n,” jaehyun whispers into your ear in a sultry tone.

your hot breath tickled his ear as your eyes interlocked with his lustful eyes. you wanted him, he wanted you. it had been so long since you’ve felt not only his touch, but a touch at all.

“can i?” he whispers as his eyes are on your lips. you nod, inviting him in.

his lips crash onto yours, melting together as they once used to. he started off gentle, almost as if he were testing the waters before involving the kiss into something more rough and filled with desire. it brought you back to the days of 5 years ago.

his hands traveled to the back of your head, tugging on your hair. his tongue fighting its way inside you until it began crashing with yours. you started feeling weak, legs almost giving out but he held you. he pressed you against the wall, body nearly melting into yours. you could feel his hardened member as it pressed against you.

you moaned into the kiss, trying to say his name. he tugged on your bottom lip, finally departing from your lips. your eyes watery, face feeling hot all over. your dazed gaze finding jaehyun’s lustful one. jaehyun groans before sinking onto his knees. you knew where this was going, so you helped him.

you began taking off your shirt, bra, and unbuttoning your jeans, taking them off. just as you were about to take off your panties, his hands stopped you. “just open your legs for me,” he says, to which you obliged.

jaehyun gives you one last look before disappearing in between your legs. you felt his lips nip and kiss on your inner thighs, making sure to mark you up. his wet tongue licks your already soaked panties, moaning when he gets a small taste of you. a taste he has been dying to have for 5 years.

sliding your panties to the side he licks your cunt up once, getting a full taste of you now. jaehyun almost swears he’s addicted to you again. “how i’ve missed this taste,” he moans, meeting your eyes again before diving back inside you.

his tongue swipes up your slit one more time before using his two thumbs to spread your pussy lips apart. he lets his tongue intrude inside your entrance, sliding against your gummy walls. you moaned rather loudly at the intrusion, tightening around his tongue. jaehyun could feel as your walls throbbed around his tongue, his cock hardening at the thought of how your cunt would feel wrapped nicely around him. jaehyun cursed himself, finding himself too impatient.

you began chanting his name, crying it out with every fucking of his tongue. he found your voice so sweet, so beautiful like a song he could hear on repeat and never get tired of. your fingers grabbed onto his soft locks of hair, grinding yourself on his face. your clit rubbing against his nose, you felt yourself reaching your end already. jaehyun knew you far too well too, knowing you were reaching your end as well. so he grips onto your thighs, fucking his tongue quicker and when he feels your walls clench around him he pulls his tongue out.

you were left on edge, whining at the loss of sensation of not being able to cum. jaehyun didn’t look up, busying himself with kitty licking your cunt. he kissed your sensitive clit, once, twice, three times. so lost you failed to notice his two digits that already worked their way along your slit.

“j-jaehyun?” you asked hazily, looking down at the male as he already stared straight at you. “wha- oh my god!” you moaned out the last part when you felt his two digits plunge inside your soaking cunt. the squelching sound echoing in the doorway, you didn’t even worry about if your neighbors heard. you were far too focused on the way his fingers fucked inside you over and over so quickly. already sensitive from his tongue, you were close to cumming again.

“i-i’m gonna c-cum!” you breathlessly groaned, biting down on your lips so as to not shout again. jaehyun had no intention of leaving you on edge again, so he fucked his fingers into you faster and deeper. he attached his lips onto your clit, toying with it. he remembered how much you loved it when he would teasingly dote on your clit. jaehyun knew your body as if it were his first language.

you let out a gasp before you finally came all over his hand and face. you hadn’t cum like that in a while, your fingers only being able to pleasure you so much. jaehyun licked you up one more time before kissing your clit. he got up, holding your body up before you could fall onto the ground. your legs were giving up already.

he shoved his soaked fingers into your mouth, your tongue licking them clean. “you did so good, love. was always such a good girl for me,” he whispers. his way of words, too, always turned you on.

when you finally licked him clean, he removed his hand from your mouth. in a split second his demeanor changes, his eyes turning more gentle. “as much as i wanna be inside you, i don’t have a condom. so-” you interrupt him. “i-it’s alright jae, please just… i wanna feel you.”

your words too turned him on, in a matter of seconds his pants and boxers were off. his aching cock standing proud. “jump,” he tells you.

you jumped, legs wrapping around his waist. your back still against the wall. his cock rubbed along your soaking slit before his leaking tip plunged into your entrance. 

“fuck- you’re so tight, no one fucked this pretty pussy while i was gone?” he groans. you didn’t respond, already drunk stupidly on his cock that was snugly wrapped around your gummy walls. it had been too long since you’d taken anything like his.

your eyes widened when you felt a smack against your ass cheek. “i asked you a question, or are you too drunk already to answer,” he says in a rough tone.

“uh, ye-yes b-but they don’t c-compare to y-you!” you moaned loudly when you felt him thrust into you rougher, deeper.

jaehyun was always the jealous type when it came to you, you were his and his alone is what he thought. in his world, no one was allowed to have you, it was the one thing he regretted when you two broke up. he couldn’t fathom the fact that some filthy bastard would be able to lay his hands on you, someone as tasteful as you.

“no one could leave you satisfied, right love?” he asks you, to which you just repeatedly say no. his mouth forms into a smile before his lips find themselves on your shoulder. his lips kiss along them, traveling to your neck, and jaw before coming down to your tits.

he pecks one of your tits before wrapping his mouth around your nipple. he accidently bites on your nipple when he feels you clench around his cock. jaehyun mutters a small curse as he kisses his way to your other breast. it receives the same attention as the previous one, only that this time he doesn’t accidentally bite your nipple.

“such perfect tits… were always my favorite,” jaehyun mutters, kissing your tit before parting from it. “now then, are you ready?” he asks you.

“y-yes please fuck me, be rough like you used to,” you said desperately as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

jaehyun’s hands grip onto the bottom of your ass where he lifts you up slightly before plunging you back down on his cock, chucking at your choked out moan. you truly were the cutest, he loved you so very much.

he slides his cock in and out, out and in, of you. he groaned against your exposed neck as you repeatedly clenched around him. you couldn’t help it, jaehyun fucked you so deeper, cock reaching your womb with every thrust. it wouldn’t be long before you’d cum again.

crushing you to the wall, he secures you against it so he could maneuver one of his hands to your clit. he used his thumb to rub the poor thing, “cum, cum on my cock like the good old days love.”

and so you do, erupting around his cock that still fucked into you. you knew he wouldn’t stop until he came, so you waited, encouraging him with filthy words to get him worked up. it was doing the trick, you felt him twitch inside you.

“whe-where do you w-want me to cum?” he asks you, thrusting into you quickly, nearly at his release.

“in mmh-me!” you moaned, clenching around him. “a-are you sure?” he questions you.

“y-yes, i’ll buy a pill tomorrow– please, just please i wanna feel your warmth inside me~”

“fuck,” jaehyun curses, filling you up with his seeds. his lips crashing onto yours as you milked him of his cum.

he parts from the steamy kiss you two just shared to carry you to your bedroom. he still remember the layout of your apartment. jaehyun drops you on your bed, and you watch as he takes off his shirt, sneakily glancing at his still hardened member. your mouth is nearly drooling all the more.

“turn around, on your hands and knees love,” jaehyun says, watching as you obliged to his every word. he watched as you arched your back, ass sticking out nicely, leaking with his cum. he couldn’t resist smacking your ass, left and right roughly. you moaned against your bed comforter, clenching it tightly as you got smacked from behind. you feel his warm cum dripping down your thigh, you try clenching your entrance– jaehyun taking notice.

“how cute, trying to make sure it doesn’t slip out?” he teasingly says before jerking his cock, bringing it to your slit. he rubs against your juices and his cum before stretching your gummy walls once more. it was incomprehensible how tight you always were, just right for him– just made for him.

“how is it love? you always loved it when i took you from behind, didn’t you?” he continues to tease you. “i love it! i love your cock so much j-jae, so good~”

he gripped your hips tighter, tight enough to leave prints the next day. you felt as his tip touched your g-spot so clearly, reaching your womb with every thrust in. jaehyun watches as you begin to wiggle underneath, shaking your ass against him. he smirks, smacking your ass which jiggled from his touch.

a white ring formed around his cock, a mixture of you both. it oddly enough ignited him, fucking into you in rapid, deeper strokes. your tears and drool adorning the comforter. your tight walls hugging his cock tightly, and with one smack to your ass you came for a third time. you gushed all over his pelvis.

“good girl,” jaehyun mutters, continuing his ministrations before he too came once again. only this time he didn’t part from your pussy, fucking you in slow, gentle thrust.

by the time he finished, he laid on your bed. jaehyun was exhausted, and you were too but… you still had something up your sleeve. crawling to him you stopped on his side. “wh-what are you doin-” jaehyun gets interrupted mid-sentence when he feels your lips kiss his tip. he didn’t stop you, in fact he wanted you to continue.

you spit on his cock, jerking it as to spread your saliva along his shaft. your eyes traveling back to jaehyun who hungrily looked at you. going back to his cock you lower your head, opening your mouth so you could finally take him inside. you shoved his cock inside until the tip reached your throat, you gagged and groaned against his cock when you felt him twitch inside. staying like that for a while longer, trying to get accommodated. once you did, you started bobbing your head on his cock, using your tongue to lick along his shaft. never forgetting to tease his slit, something he loved.

you felt as one of his hands tugged on your hair, helping you to better move yourself on his cock. jaehyun was a mess, he felt blessed– praised the lords above. he tried thinking of the nastiest atrocities known to mankind as to not bust so quickly, but that proved to be an impossible task. i mean, how could he when you so beautifully wrapped your sweet mouth around his cock.

and so it wasn’t long before he came inside your mouth, your mouth feeling his warmth before swallowing it down. you now felt so full, unable to take anymore. jaehyun too, you milked him dry, taking all of him in you.

you crawled to him, laying beside him. he engulfs you into his embrace, kissing you so tenderly. you two were exhausted but for what it was worth, it wasn’t regretful. his hand strokes your back, playing with your hair. it was peaceful, so peaceful that you secretly wished for your days to be like this. you were almost lulled to sleep by jaehyun before you opened your eyes when he whispered into the quiet room.

“we’re unconditionally timeless, and so is our love.”

far too exhausted to reply back, you just smile. you snuggled into his body, melting into him before you drifted off to dreamland. however, it wasn’t until you woke up the next day and felt the cold that you knew. 

jaehyun was gone, gone from your life once more. the intimate night you two shared last night, his parting gift.

there was no getting back together, no peaceful nights where the two of you lay in each other’s embrace. you cried and cried that entire morning, and silently prayed for a day where you two could reunite again. for fate to align you two again because after all…

jeong jaehyun was your first love and last love.

© jhdyuiee

2024. 11. 03

final a.n: AHHHHH, jae leaves tomorrow. i don’t know what to do guys, like my man is leaving for the next 2 years. like what do you mean my man who has served needs to serve more?! consider this story as my last jaehyun fic while he is still a free man, lol, and no this doesn’t mean i’ll stop writing abt him. instead, think of this as a new beginning (?) okay i think that’s enough… i’ma go now! i hope you all enjoyed this read (wrote it in one day, very proud of my dedication after all the chaos school has brought me) and i’ll be sure to upload lots this month! stay safe, may we jaehyun fans make it until may 2026!

p.s: the cover picture makes me go feral, i just had to include it!

[heich0e]

tomura tries to sneak out of your apartment one morning before you wake up, because he has to get all the way back to his apartment before his dad shows up to take him to a 9AM yoga class.

god forbid he be forced to explain:

a) why he slept over at an apartment that was not his own to his father (toshinori would be calling wedding venues and asking his assistant to look into your ring size before they'd even made it to the yoga studio)

nor b) the fact that he was going to a fucking yoga class at 9 o'clock in god damn the morning with his dad, to you.

he slips out of your bed soundlessly, moving as carefully as possible not to wake you. it pains him to do it. really, it does. your sheets are warm, and soft, and smell like you. and you're still there resting so peacefully, tucked under them, breathing soundly with your face burrowed into the collar of his hoodie that you'd worn to bed the night before. you look so pretty like this, tomura had spent at least half an hour just staring at you while he was laying next to you in your treacherously comfortable bed, and would have happily spent another hour more doing it.

there are very few forces on earth that could tear tomura out of bed like this, but the mortifying prospect of having to explain to his over-enthusiastic father that he has a girlfriend is certainly one of them.

he creeps out of your room and into the bathroom, splashing some cool water on his face and using the lotion that you keep next to the sink that makes his skin feel so nice. you started buying a bigger bottle lately, now that the two of you are both using it, and you never mentioned it but tomura still noticed when the little tube was replaced by a larger version of the same product. next he reaches for the toothbrush that he's started keeping next to yours, double checking the hour on his phone to make sure he wasn't running out of time.

he contemplates stealing one last peek at you in bed before he leaves, but he knows that if he doesn't leave now he won't have time to change his clothes before his dad shows up outside his place, so he heads straight to your front door once he's done in the washroom.

you're standing in his path before he can get to it.

you've got a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, but he can still see the soft skin of your thighs where the hem of his hoodie hangs peeking out from underneath the edges of it. there's a little frown tugging the corners of your mouth down.

tomura freezes in his tracks.

"going somewhere?" you ask him, your voice quiet and a little bit hoarse from sleep.

oh, fuck.

"morning," he mumbles, a bit nervously, as you pin him in your stare.

"it is," you reply, as though agreeing with him. "early, even. so why are you sneaking out of my apartment like a burglar?"

tomura rakes a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. "i, uh, gotta be somewhere."

"you have to be somewhere?" you repeat, a bit incredulously—like the words don't quite compute. you don't seem mad at all, just thoroughly bewildered by the whole strange situation. "tomu, we went three rounds last night and you're awake before two PM on a weekend. are you okay?"

"'course i'm okay," he rushes to get out, tripping over his words.

"did I like... do something? or is there someone el—"

"are you kidding?" tomura's voice cracks and he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. he reaches out and grabs the edge of the blanket you have wrapped around you, his fingers twisting into it desperately. he knows you can't possibly—can't reasonably—think that he's seeing anybody else when the fact that he even landed someone like you is an honest to god miracle. the kind of underdog success story they make multi-part docuseries on.

tomura groans, shuffling forward and resting his forehead against your shoulder as he snakes his arms underneath the blanket around your frame to hold you close.

"you're being weird, tomu," you say quietly, brushing your fingers through his hair and letting your nails drag lightly against his scalp in that way that makes him want to shiver.

"fuck, I know, I know,"—he buries his face further into the crook of your neck, breathing in shakily—"'m not being sketchy or anything."

"you are," you remark lightly. "it's not that I don't trust you, I'm just confused."

tomura mumbles something, but the words are lost to the skin of your throat.

"what was that?" you ask.

tomura steels his nerve and takes one last long breath buried against your warmth. he pulls away and faces you.

"I have to go to a yoga class with my dad."

he loses his nerve about halfway through his admission, his eyes flickering away from yours to a point on the wall just above your front door, as a violent heat surges through his cheeks.

"a yoga class?"

he knows it sounds ridiculous. it is ridiculous. it may have been more believable to tell you he was going to hook up with someone el—

"why didn't you just say that?" your laughter cuts through his spiralling thoughts like a morning alarm.

his gaze snaps back to you, only to find you smiling softly.

"you... you're not...?" tomura isn't even sure what he's going to say. mad? surprised? convinced he's lying?

"i mean, i've noticed you've been looking kind of toned lately, but honestly i thought it's because we've been fucking so much," you scrunch your nose up a little. "yoga makes sense on both counts, though."

you turn and look across your apartment to the clock hanging on the wall.

"what time's your class?" you ask him, suddenly worried that this impromptu interrogation may have made him late. "i didn't mean to—"

tomura grabs either side of the blanket wrapped around your shoulders and tugs you forward, pressing his mouth to yours while your lips are still parted in speech.

(he doesn't make it to class that morning after all.)

[soleilchanson]

Boxer!Sukuna who dedicates his first ever win to you

Note: female reader

Masterlist

Your heart was racing. Sukuna had prepared you for the fact that boxing arenas could get overwhelming with the constant yelling and cheering for violence, but you still felt uneasy watching your boyfriend receive punch after punch.

You knew your boyfriend was just a rookie boxer but you couldn’t help but pray that by some miracle, he would be able to defeat his opponent. He had been training specifically for this match for the past two months and had sacrificed his blood, sweat and tears for it. It didn’t help that his opponent was a seasoned winner.

Your chest tightened as Sukuna was struck down once again. All you could think about was how he would study his opponent’s moves late at night while you stayed up with him. You pressed your hands together, hoping that he would win by some miracle.

Almost as if on cue, Sukuna managed to dodge a critical hit and wound his arm to absolutely knock out his opponent. The other fighter fell on to the ground and did not get up even after the countdown. The referee grabbed Sukuna’s hand and raised it in the air as the crowd erupted in cheers.

You let out a sigh of relief and clapped as loudly as possible for your boyfriend’s triumph. It was his first win as a professional boxer. He was going to start making a name for himself pretty soon and you could only imagine what was to come after. He deserved this. It was all because of his hard work and resilience.

Sukuna’s tired eyes searched for yours in the VIP box and you smiled at him. He returned an exhausted one back to you and proceeded to do something you never expected.

He kissed his fingers and pointed to you, all your friends and in the VIP box began clamoring with teases and giggles.

Even while being adorned with his belt, Sukuna’s eyes never left yours. He mentioned earlier that your presence was integral to his success but you never knew it was to such a degree. You blew him a flowing kiss and he chuckled at the sight. He didn’t even bother to look at the cameras looming around him until his manager told him to pose for the pictures.

Of course, after his first win, he was immediately subject to a press conference. He sulked at first, hoping that he could share at least a moment with you before being bombarded with questions but he decided to get it over with so he could go home soon.

“Mr. Sukuna, how do you feel after your first win.”

“Fucking tired.” Your bruised and battered boyfriend replied. The crowded erupted into a few giggles and murmurs at his deadpan reply.

“Would you like to mention any people that helped you become a good fighter?”

“Aside from my coach, I want to dedicate my win to my girlfriend. She put up with a lot of my shit while training.”

You giggled at his reply from backstage. Supporting wasn’t a chore but it was extensive work. Cooking twice the amount of food so he could bulk, constantly having your sleep disturbed because he would train in the early hours of the morning, and not go too crazy when you ate out on dates was difficult but well worth the effort.

-

After the press conference, you two were back home. Sukuna had retired to your bedroom while you did the finishing touches of your night time skin care.

“The winner of today’s fight commands his woman’s presence.” Your boyfriend called out, urging you to hurry up. You put away your containers and walked to the bedroom. “I’m here, your majesty.” You sarcastically replied as you laid down next to him. He had a frown on his face from being alone.

He opened up the blanket to let you in and slotted you next to him with your back facing his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he tucked your head under his chin. “I forgot to congratulate you earlier.” You speak out.

He hums and squeezes you. “Thanks. Only took you 3 hours to say that.” You could almost feel him sulk.

“Can you blame me? You were surrounded by people. I needed to let you have your moment.” You reasoned.

“What about when we were driving back? It was just you and me in the car.”

“You fell asleep as soon as your ass touched the seat.”

He scoffed at your reply and pushed you away. “Whatever, it’s not like getting a congratulatory kiss from my girlfriend was the only thing I wanted.” He said as he turned his back you.

This man was a big baby. The world saw him as an upcoming and fearful fighter but here he was sulking over the fact that you didn’t give him attention.

You giggled and rubbed his back to soothe him. “I can still give you a congratulatory kiss if you want.” For a second, you swore that he almost turned around but he gave you the silent treatment instead. “Kuna,” you whined. As much as you cringed while saying it, you knew using that nickname was his weakness.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, baby. Let me give you the kind of kiss a winner deserves.” You said as you rubbed his stomach. The man turned around, eyes not meeting yours. He was still sporting the frown from earlier.

You held his face in your hands. Your fingers traced his tattoos and you could see his eyes rapidly moving because of your touch. You giggled and moved your fingers to his lips. Luckily, his opponent missed them during the fight so you could easily kiss him.

You slowly pressed your lips against his and he immediately reciprocated. While your touch was delicate with your hand on cradling face, his touch was rougher. His hand entwined in your hair as his body pressed to yours. Your tongue entered his mouth and he gladly welcomed it which a slight suck.

His free hand travelled down to your waist and rolled you on top of him. The kiss would’ve gotten more heated if he didn’t wince all of a sudden.

“What’s wrong, Kuna?”

He propped you back down on the bed. And grabbed the area right beneath his chest. “Ah shit, I forgot about my rib getting bruised.” You grimaced at the thought of him being in pain.

“Want me to get some ice? I can always sleep on the couch so I don’t end up accidentally kicking you.” You said out of concern.

His eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “Don’t worry, it’s not that bad.” He grabbed ahold of your waist again and just pulled you close to him. “I didn’t win that trophy so my girlfriend could sleep on the couch. And since I’m a boxing champion, I can handle a few punches from you.”

“But-“

“Shush.” He pecked you on the lips to keep you from protesting. “This is how I wanna celebrate my first win. With you next to me.”