#it almost feels like they set the game up to fail

[mythalism]

Do you find yourself in almost a state of mourning/grief with datv? I’m literally in an almost emotional distress over it. All summer I built up insane defensiveness due to all the grifter hate train bullshit brewing for it with a dose of insane excitement since I’ve been a DA girlie since Origins 2009 release date and I just… don’t know how to process my feelings?!?

Due to the pre game discourse I almost feel programmed to fight criticism for it and during a new play through I keep having “holy shit that quest was so dialed in” followed immediately by “what the hell did I just listen to” and yet my brain is still in copium mode.

DA fandom discourse has always been poisoned with garbage takes, ESPECIALLY since Solas got introduced with DAI (I’m sorry, I truly believe his die hard haters have the reading comprehension of a peanut) but the fact that there is still a huge pocket of the fandom that couldn’t even get the point of the solas/mythal dynamic when it was LITERALLY SPOONFED TO US kind of… scares me about the future of narrative design in general.

Absolutely development hell and reboot and lack of time to truly sink into the intended story beats from start to finish played a major role. The skeleton remains of bullshit multiplayer factions are here too. But holy shit. Is it just me or does everything else utterly scream “chronically online” to me.

Sorry I have no idea where I’m going with this. I just needed to yap thoughts that weren’t just in the void. I don’t know how to reconcile getting my dream romance ending I waited 10 years for alongside a narrative that doesn’t even make sense leading to that happy ending.

i wouldn't say im experiencing full on grief but i do know exactly what you mean and i sympathize with your experience a lot. i think it might be because ive been in a corner of fandom that has been very critical of bioware and so i honestly had extremely low expectations of veilguard up until the summer. i thought we would NEVER get the game, and if we did get it, i was sure it would be a fucking trainwreck after 10 years of "[insert x developer here] leaves bioware after 20+ years!". my personal bar was truly on the floor, in the deep roads, in the heart of a titan, in the void etc etc.

it does bother me the way it was marketed because honestly i would call it duplicitous. not in the "false advertising" legal sense of the world but in the way it feels like the devs are (and were) very aware of the flaws in this game and more importantly were very aware of how it would be received by long-time fans. and of course i am aware that developers have little to no say whatsoever in marketing, and its also clear that vg's marketing was an absolute mess of conflicting directions considering that reveal trailer that honestly set the game up to fail (i truly believe the grifting and general, casual reception would not have been so negative if they had used the release-date trailer instead) and the way they immediately had to drop 20 minutes of gameplay to reassure people that they werent releasing dragon age: fortnite LMFAO. but i think that mismatch actually tells us a lot about the similarly contradictory tone and writing in different parts of the game, and the direction that EA seemingly pushed for (as exemplified by their attempts to market it as... whatever that was) and the game bioware was attempting to make (which would have undoubtedly been flawed but probably more in-line with past games).

but, this duplicitous marketing was not just EA, and i do feel that the devs played up the game, and specifically our attachment to past characters and franchise entries, in a way that was a bit unfair when you have the context of their comments post-release about how aware they are of it's shortcomings. and i get it, these people have quite literally no choice. they have to participate in the marketing of this game, it's their job, they need to pay rent and eat etc etc like i get it. but just because they have good reason to play on their fan's attachment to their writing via their tweets and comments in dev q&a's doesn't mean i cant say it left a bad taste in my mouth. i think trick being completely absent from the entire marketing cycle is really interesting in this context, lol. i have no proof of there being a correlation, it was just something i found interesting this summer, and that i find even more interesting now, especially considering their role as lead writer.

it definitely felt like the things they chose to show and the things they chose not to were designed specifically to grip fans and rile us up, and though it worked for their pre-sales, i think it actually hurt them in the end because if they had not gotten expectations up so high by dangling varric and solas and morrigan and the inquisitor in front of us like carrots, we probably would not all have been so disappointed! i sure wouldnt be. remember i thought this game was going to fucking blow not even 8 months ago! for me it was precisely the summer build up that left me so bereft in the end. if i had played the game completely blind id still think it was a flop, but i wouldn't feel absolutely bamboozled and pissed off in the way i and a lot of others seem to feel.

legend @scaryanneee said once that the entire game feels apologetic, in both its writing and design and that has stuck with me ever since she said it. the whole game feels like a big "sorry it wasnt better", and even more so due to the release of the artbook filled with ideas that they knew we'd like better, and even MORE so with the game's lack of denuvo or other anti-piracy software, allowing us to data-mine and see the skeleton left behind at some point. idk a lot about game development but i am under the impression that post-release content that feels like a desperate apology to fans + tweets about how you fought and lost that then get deleted are not the norm????

its truly a mess. but i do not feel hopeless, for some reason. gaming is a mess and i think you are right to fear for the future of narrative design but although there are always people who will bootlick to cope, there are also beloved haters like us who will always complain, and not out of transphobia or a desire to grift, but out of a genuine love for these games and the stories they tell. i wish the reviews had been a bit more discerning and critical, but i hope the message will get through to bioware and EA eventually. i also think that tbh, if this game came out 3 years after bg3 rather than 1, it would look VERY different. i would not even really consider myself a bg3 fan and i have a lot of criticisms of it (lol who's surprised!!!) it is objectively a move in the right direction for the gaming industry for a variety of reasons, and i do believe its many accolades have sent a message to greedy execs everywhere.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

"Attagirl..."

A/N: Idk Platonic Yandere Dick Grayson who is very creepy is my favorite Dick Grayson. He's so cute but so extra and I had this idea in my head for a while now so why not write this out.

Warnings: Yandere/toxic family themes, blurred boundaries and family lines, batsis is an adult early to mid twenties, no blood family connections, not nsfw

masterlist

requests: always open

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

Your body went stiff and your eyes opened wide as you felt something snake around your waist. Every alarm set off in your head as a chilling breeze of fear rushed over your body. Anyone looking in from the outside would say that you were mimicking a deer in headlights. If only you had its ears and a tail, they'd be standing up straight, just like your hairs currently were.

The person locking you in between their arms let out a small chuckle, amused about your reaction to being touched so unexpectedly. You could feel a warm huff hit the back of your neck, trailed by a few soft pecks, causing a shiver of goosebumps to cascade down your body.

"You can relax, sis. It's just me."

Somehow those words had the opposite effect of relaxation on you...

Dick never failed to outdo himself in just how uncomfortable he could make you. Though, you weren't entirely sure, it seemed to be almost like a game to him at this point. The amount of times he's completely caught you off-guard, alone, and vulnerable is far too many to just be coincidences. Even someone who is as charmed as Dick couldn't get as lucky as he "just" appears to...You had to wonder sometimes if he was really a calculated asshole whose life goal was to make you feel violated with every interaction he had with you. Like did he find joy in this? You always made it abundantly clear that you hated being around him and avoided him at every turn. Maybe all of this is his less than subtle way at payback for never giving him attention...?

Though, a part of you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he really is just this clueless.

Your brother being an oblivious Malibu Ken doll with no sense of familial boundaries.... possible...but...yikes. Well, at times it did seem as though Dick was boarding being an absolute idiot. Seriously at times you swore there was nothing happening behind his painfully blue eyes and pearly white smile. Maybe he did earnestly think his intentions were both normal and pure.. Maybe he just really wants to be close with his sister. Maybe.... you are the real asshole for being so avoidant all of the time.

You barely were able to finish your train of thought before the arms around you became tighter and more restricting. While slimmer than maybe his father, Dick's frame was still large enough to easily make you feel small...and rather claustrophobic when he engulfed you like this. Without much effort, he pulled you in closer, so your back was now pressed up against his hard torso. He was still in his suit and fully geared as you could feel his holstered weapons dig itself into your lower back. It acted as a silently lethal threat, a reminder that you weren't allowed to escape this, despite your discomfort.

"mmm..you smell so good~"

Dick obnoxiously nuzzled the sides of your face, eventually burying his nose into the crook of your neck,,,if you weren't so anxious you might've giggled by the tickling sensation of him sniffing your skin.

The irony of how while he loved yours, you hated the nauseating scent emanating off of his body. He always had the same smell when he was fresh off of patrol. It was an unholy mixture of metals, sweat, gunpowder and his awful "luxury" cologne that created this weird musk.... Being so close and personal like this only made it worse as it flooded your airways, you could nearly suffocate over it.

The reactive jerk of your body to get away from the smell caught his attention...

"Oh, I know you're probably so grumpy with me right now. But.. i couldn't help myself when I came in and saw you standing here..."

You could feel a weight be rested on your right shoulder as he put his head there. Dick moved it slightly to look up at you, a smile plated across his face..and you couldn't see it but the dilation of his eyes made him appear deranged,,,it was a common look he had whenever his eyes would settle on you and it made it hard to retain any sort of eye contact. It's the kind of look that you'd assume Harley gives to Joker whenever she sees him...full of love, passion, obsession, and mania.

"I just love you so much...you're so perfect."

Your body recoiled in disgust at the rather...weird...way he decided to say those words...

"You never let me hug you...Or ever spend time with you but doesn't this just feel so nice? Doesn't being close like this just make you want this all the time, babybat?"

You internally scoffed. Being held without your consent wasn't nice. Nor were you amused by the near taunting tone he spoke with that last part...babybat.. you couldn't stand that term of endearment he'd use on you. You were nearly his age, only a few years behind but he insists on calling you that. Despite the countless times you've told him to stop using weird nicknames, he rarely refers to you by your real name.

"I hate being away from you, my birdie...I hate not being able to do this often with you."

"my birdie" even worse.

"Sweet, but I'm tired so if you could please let me be on my way-" You tried squirming and breaking out of his hold but he just made the hug all the more suffocating.

"No. I need this...let me have this moment with you..."

Dick's hands began to slowly rub your sides in his attempt at being soothing.

You wanted nothing more than to burn your skin and claw his eyes out, right now. You didn't understand what made you so special to him when he had tons of siblings constantly giving him his much "needed" attention. There was no way that he could be so touched starved that all of this was necessary.

His constant hunger for your presence made you uneasy from the day you were welcomed into the family. Normal brothers don't do this....they call you names and ignore you...why couldn't he just be normal??

You weren't some neglected little kid who needed extra love and affection. You were an adult, his peer, who wanted to be left alone. If Bruce wasn't allowing you to live rent and amenities free in his mansion, you would've packed up and moved away by now.

"Hmm, my birdie...y'know after I take a shower...we could get snacks, put on your favorite movie....maybe even continue cuddling...?"

Is that what this was to him? Cuddling? You rolled your eyes at the thought.

"Dick I'm really tired."

"-please..please I really want this. We don't even have to talk. you can fall asleep on me during the movie...I just want more of this.."

"uhm..I don't really think that I want to."

"I'll leave you alone after this. I promise that. I'll be good. Just do this for me this one time..I had a long day and I miss you, sis."

He was whining, pouting and quite frankly...impossible. A long sigh of frustrated defeat escaped out of you and you attempted to relax your shoulders the best you could. You weren't particularly in the mood to fight with him, it was late in the night so something had to give...and it was going to have to be you. Tonight wasn't your night and all you could do now was just ride it out. Dick was a force to be reckoned with and while living under the same roof, there was no avoiding it. If you did get out of this tonight, another day would just be the same story anyway.

A part of you hoped that he'd keep his word and actually leave you alone after this. But only a dreamer can dream.

"...okay, you win. But just one movie."

His once tight hold on you loosened and he swiftly made his way in front of you. For a moment he stared at you with his crazed eyes. But that for once, it wasn't his eyes that made you uneasy, it was that devious grin he wore. It almost made you feel sick seeing just how smug he was after getting his way... It answered your question from earlier. This was all a game for him..he liked doing this to you. He's a calculated asshole who wanted to make your life a living hell for all the times you've blown him off and knocked down his attempts to be close to you. ...It made you feel dumb for giving in...you didn't know what he had in store for tonight with a look like that. One of his hands came up to your cheek and gently caressed it before cupping your face with a firm squeeze. Dick didn't use much force as he pulled your squished, cupped face closer and planted a wet kiss on your cheek.

"Attagirl.."

[littlestarxmilkyway]

Emerald Beyond's launch sales were rather abysmal, and disheartening as that is... I kind of feel like it's deserved. I am (finally) enjoying the game. It's not as if it's a terrible game. It just doesn't feel like it should sell well at its price point. I hope it has some sort of legs and sales will pick up over time. Japanese side of the fandom is absolutely loving the game, so that might help. But it's kind of worrisome after seeing an article of Square Enix cancelling games. I'm sure they'll keep going through with their remaster plans, because those do well no matter what. But I wonder how these sales might hurt the series future otherwise. I also wonder if Kawazu and the team are really looking closely at the sales, feedback and circumstances.

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

ah that Pokemon OC brainrot starting to hit again... as if it ever left...

[notebooks-and-laptops]

Why Fenris could Never Cameo in Dragon Age: The Veilguard

In the run up to Dragon age: The Veilguard, I was almost certain that Fenris would be our main legacy character from previous games. Not only has he been central in the comics released between DAI and DATV, he is an escaped Tevinter slave who's plot revolved around magisters, magic and the structural prejudices surrounding elves in Thedas. Not only that, but he's canonically in Tevinter killing slavers currently so he's geographically in the right place for us to meet him.

About halfway through the game though, it was clear to me: Fenris could never cameo in The Veilguard. Because he'd break it.

How the Veilguard treats Thedas is...odd to me, to say the least. I will be writing another post about how much I adored the expanded big lore in this game (the titans, ancient elves were spirits, where the blight came from etc.) and yet while these large lore expansions worked for me, the actual culture of modern Thedas is entirely softened, its sharp edges filed down until it's a sanitised fantasy world devoid of what made the franchise so vibrant and compelling in the first place.

So let's start with Fenris and slavery. In all three games, the reality of slavery is pushing at the corners of the world. In DAO Loghain allows Tevinter Magisters to enslave elves in order to raise money for his war effort. In DA2 Fenris is fighting to be free from slavers who will not leave him be, let alone the reminders that the city was built by slaves which are everywhere. In DAI one of the two possible mini-bosses is Calpurnia who was a slave, and characters such as Gatt and Dorian both show us how much slavery is tied into Tevinters culture and success.

But DATV the first game actually set in Tevinter where we get to see the famed Minrathous...it's like the game purposefully wants to avoid the issue. I can feel it tilting the camera away to not allow me to see. Slavery is mentioned, but never talked about in depth or as a specifically ELVEN problem in Tevinter. This might have been done to be less problematic, it feels ignored.

We are in DOCK TOWN. We are at the DOCKS. You would think that slaves from all over Thedas who are being smuggled and bought by various groups would be everywhere. You would think that the injustice in dock town would be partly built on the back of ships we've seen in the comics crammed with elves in chains. This is the world Dragon age set up for us. And yet...nothing. zilch. A tiny easily skippable side quest where we free a couple of venatori slaves, but only one of whom is an elf.

None of our Tevinter characters seem to have been influenced by their culture even a little bit when it comes to how they view elves; there is no moment when Neve fucks up and says something prejudiced, no moment when Bellara or Davrin are distrustful of her for being a Tevinter mage.

The same goes for Zevran; a character who epitomised the issues with the crows. The crows have consistently been characterised as very morally dubious assassins who kill for the highest bidder and who buy children on the slave market and torture them as they grow in order to assure that they reach maturity able to withstand torture without giving away a client's name. Zevran is very explicit about the fact that if you fail a contract your life is forefit.

Nobody responds particularly to you if you're an elf. Nobody trusts rook less for it in Tevinter. Nobody treats Rook any differently. Even DAI had better mechanics for this; with nobles in Orlais less likely to trust you as an elf.

Considering one of the main plot points of this game and what makes Solas sympathetic is the fact that he was fighting against the slavery of ancient elves...you'd think the game might want to mirror that in modern Thedas. It might want to show us how characters fighting to end slavery in Tevinter are similar to Solas and how the society Solas fought against was similar to the one that characters we love such as Fenris have fought against in modern Thedas. Maybe we'd want to explore how in a world of slavery like this, how could the answer NOT be to tear it all down? Maybe we should have that option at the end of the game so it really can chose whether we agree with Solas and his plans or not.

Adding Fenris to this game would entirely break the game because Fenris refuses to allow you to look away from this horror. He is a sympathetic character who had to learn to trust mages again because of course he didn't trust them. Of course he didn't. Fenris wouldn't allow the camera to shift focus because he's literally covered in the lyrium scars that show how slaves are used as experiments in Tevinter. Fenris WOULD question Neve on how she feels about elves and slaves. Fenris WOULD have things to say about Lucanis and the crows (let alone the fact Lucanis is an abomonation). So he could never be in this game; he'd drop a bomb on it's carefully constructed blinders to the very society its supposed to be set in.

And yet, in DATV, the crows are presented as...a found family of misfits and orphans? The politician who opposes the crows having absolute power in Antiva is framed as a comically evil idiot who doesn't understand that the crows are ontologically good. Yet...they're NOT. Crows in this game act more like a secret rebel group than an assassin organisation. We see no crow taking contracts with the VERY RICH venatori magisters despite being hired killers. We see crows just refuse to kill people despite having a contract because 'its crueler to leave them alive'. The crows don't feel like the crows here, they feel like a softened version of a cool assassin group who are cool because they wear black and purple.

Our pirate group are also sanitised; the Lords of Fortune are good pirates who only steal treasure that's not culturally significant. Theyve clearly read the modern critiques of the British Museum and have decided to explicitly stop anyone levelling similar critiques at them. There is no faction of the Lords of Fortune who aren't like this, no internal arguments about it. Everyone just. Agrees. And is able to accurately tell what a cultural artifact is vs. what treasure that you can have yourself is. Rather than showing us why a pirate stealing cultural artifacts might be bad (like in da2 where such a situation literally causes a coup and a war) it just tells us it's bad. But also pirates are cool so we still want them in our world.

This issue seaps into Thedas and drains it of any of the interesting complexity and ability to SAY anything that this franchise had before this game. It becomes a game about telling and not showing rather than the other way around. The games have ALWAYS asked questions about oppressive structural systems and their interplay with society, religion and culture and how these things can affect even the most well meaning character. Dragon age at its best IS a game about society and how society functions both for and against it's characters and what happens to societies built on cruelty and indifference. The best bad guys dragon age has given us are those who are bad because they embody these systems or have been shaped by them. Our main characters have had to wrestle with questions surrounding how to exist in these systems, fight against them, learn and grow.

Yet every group you come across in DATV is sanitised and cleaned up to the point of being as non problematic as humanly possible. None of our cast of characters have to wrestle with where they came from or the world that shaped them. None of them have to confront their own biases. They start the game perfectly non-problematic and end it that way too.

And this just...isn't what Dragon Age has been in the past. It isn't why I love the franchise. The whole game just felt, in a way, hollow. And this was a CHOICE and it is why the legacy characters are few and far between. Too many dragon age characters are just too...angry and complex for this game. You can feel them pulling their punches on this one. I have to imagine they did this because they didn't want to be criticised or have too much controversy? But I think it honestly goes far too much in the other direction and just makes it bland.

I can't imagine what I say here will be unique, but it is the basis for a LOT of my other thoughts on this game so I wanted to get it out of the way first. The softened Thedas and characters make this game by far the weakest in the franchise.

[yeyinde]

stalker!Simon decides to have a little fun with his favourite camgirl.

the message comes up halfway into your "show."

it's a boring night. slow. you wear a lingerie set one of your viewers sent in beneath a silk robe, all in a pretty pastel pink—cliche, but it works; an uncomfortably disgusting version of hair theory unfolding in front of your eyes—and discreetly chug wine when you twist away to grab a new toy. a series of pale pink vibrators, nipple clamps. mundane depravity for what's shaping up to be a lacklustre night.

but the money that pours in from these little shows (adult version of classic party games—hide and seek, would you rather, truth or dare) is one step closer to erasing your debts. student loans. car payments. rent. you smile so wide it aches, and put your best face on when you blink, coquettish and coy, at the camera where nameless, faceless men throw money in a ring for a scrap of your attention.

tonight's game is Simon Says. and it's supposed to be normal. boring.

but a message from a viewer named Simon (in a sea of many who cheekily changed their usernames to match the theme of the game) stands out.

Simon says... go lock your door.

you blink. between all of the Simon Says touch yourself for me baby, pull your shirt down, lemme fuck you for real it sticks out. a change in the routine.

you huff, pouting. "already did that, Simon. c'mon, gimme something else to do, honey."

another one pops up. Simon says... you shouldda got a dog.

your brows furrow. "that's not part of the game, Simon. i'm gonna move on—"

Simon says... open your door.

he's paying you handsomely. dropping coins, large amounts of money, for each message to shoot to the top. little superchats. why he isn't taking advantage of it and paying you to do something sexy, something lewd, unnerves you. your heart starts to race, thudding against your ribs almost painfully.

it's fine, you think. he's just a creep. a loser. "uh huh, not part of the game, Simon. i'm afraid i'm gonna have to cut you off—"

you block him. they don't normally get under your skin like this. ever. at all. even when they throw random names in your dms, hoping one of them happens to be yours, and try to blackmail you to your fake friends and family. it doesn't bother you as much as this. as him. get a dog. how absurd.

the next series of chats pass without the same odd comments. take your bra off, but leave the robe on. act coy, like you don't want to—

creeps, you think, in their own right. but. paying ones. so, you smile. stiff. uncomfortable. grinning so wide it hurts. pretending to ignore the strange unease growing in your guts. your eyes sliding back to the superchats saved in a glowing log. let me in. a troll. whatever. it's nothing. nothing. you'll drink wine after this, scrub your skin raw in the shower and buy yourself something pretty with the money these greasy losers threw your way—

Simon says... let me in.

you feel your heart in your throat. it can't be him. you blocked him. you have mods to keep trolls out of your chats, but wonder—hopefully—if maybe it failed. maybe they found your stream are just being weird. strange. but when you check, the filters are on. he's a registered user. paid the premium to watch you. to get an invite to your special game nights. it makes it worse, you think, that he paid to be here. to do this.

your hand shakes. you block this user, too, ignoring the discomfort churning inside your chest. the fear spiking along the nape of your neck. hair raising. there's a prickle on your skin. the feeling of being watched

no. it's fine. you're fine—

"ah, what else should i do, Simon?" you ask your viewers, pulling on another smile. one that hurts. aches. wobbles around the edges. you'll end the stream in a few minutes. order Thai food. drink yourself stupid. take the day off tomorrow. use this creeps money and waste it. blow it on something stupid. dumb. laugh about it with your friends.

your shoulders dip. the tension easing. you're fine. you're at home. the door—

you locked it. right? you definitely, absolutely, locked it when you brought in the package from the delivery driver. the massive, hulking man who loomed in your doorway, too wide, even, to fit inside, and growled out in a low, brassy timbre: sign 'ere. you took the pen, pretending he wasn't drilling holes into you with his gaze, eyes liquid in the dark. intense. wanting. and then scurried inside—

back pressed against the door, hands wrapped around the lingerie set.

you glance at the chat. "which Simon bought me this cute set? i'd like to thank them personally," you murmur, forcing your shoulders to drop. it's fine. you live in the middle of nowhere. no one is coming to your door.

there's no takers in the chat. you shift on the chair, licking your lips. "it's really cute, Simon. a perfect size, too, and i just—"

something catches your eye in the corner of the monitor. a movement. a slight shift. a whisper of fabric. you tilt your chin, peering into the hazy black reflection.

what you're looking at doesn't make any sense. your bedroom door is open. a curtain of black drapes over the wall where the pale strip of light doesn't reach.

the washroom light is still on, a yellow spill illuminating the hallway, but nothing is there. no one is in the hall. but you know you closed your door. you always do when you stream. your heart trips over itself. leaps to your throat. you almost choke on it—

another bubble pops up. Simon says... hey. uh, who is that guy behind you?

there's a ringing in your ears. your hair stands on end. something moves again. the black mass wasn't a shadow. it moves. takes shape. the covered head nearly reaches your ceiling, body filling the entirely of your room. massive. a mountain you remember thinking. a fucking mountain, you texted your friend. thighs the size of tree trunks—

a hand reaches out, grabs hold of your power bar. thick gloved fingers curling over the button. in the bluegreen glow of your computer screen, a man steps out.

"glad y'liked it, pet." the deep, brassy drawl sends shivers down your spine. you try to scream, mouth opening wide to choke it out, yell for help—

your chat bubbles up, feverish in their excitement. you skin through the messages, stomaching churning as it clicks in your head. their rabidness isn't about saving you, but—

(omg he's gonna fuck her pron??? we're getting pron????? no fucking wayyyyy god i wish it were me—)

this isn't a fucking bit, you morons, you want to howl. call the fucking police—

but he gets there first. two strides. it happens in a blink. the screen goes back and he's on you in seconds.

you're not even sure how someone so big, so heavy, could move that quietly—

"ah-ah, none o'tha' now," his hand curls around your neck, tight. choking. you try to fight but he just huffs, breathing in deep, chest expanding across your spine as his other hand snakes around your waist, trapping you against a corded forearm. he bends down, nuzzles his jaw into your crown. coos:

"Simon says... turn around for me pretty girl, an' be good, now. went through all this trouble t'find you. think i deserve a little reward—"

[p0orbaby]

Hey, can you maybe write something about reader surprising Leah? Reader been away for work for a while & Leah’s really missed her. Reader comes back early to surprise leah at a family meal/after a game or something?

-

You can hear Leah before you see her. Her voice carries through her mum’s kitchen like a melody she’s been rehearsing all week, familiar and warm, laced with the faintest edge of exasperation.

“It’s not that bad, Mum,” she says, and you picture her perched on the counter, half-smiling, half-defensive, probably swinging her legs like a kid. “I’ll eat it, just—maybe not right now”

Her mum’s voice floats back, mock-indignant: “You said you wanted stew!”

“I didn’t mean one that could double as glue!”

It’s such a quintessential Leah moment that you almost forget why you’re here. Almost.

You linger in the hallway, setting your bag down quietly so they don’t hear you. The house smells like something vaguely burnt but not unpleasant, and it feels like home in a way that’s entirely unfair for a place you’ve barely spent time in.

“She’s still not back, huh?” Leah’s brother says from the dining table. You peek through the doorframe and see him fiddling with his phone, half paying attention.

Leah shrugs, but her face gives her away. “Nah. Still working”

There’s something in her tone that makes your chest tighten—soft, wistful, like she’s trying to sound indifferent and failing miserably. She looks tired in the way you only get when you’re waiting for something—or someone—and you don’t know when it’ll happen.

Well, she’s about to find out.

You step into the room, the floor creaking just enough to give you away. Leah glances up, her eyes landing on you with that split-second hesitation of disbelief before they widen.

“What the—” She doesn’t even finish the sentence.

Her family looks between you and Leah like they’ve stumbled into the climax of a romcom. Her mum’s face breaks into a grin. “Oh, you’re in trouble now,” she says, more amused than concerned.

You drop your keys on the table and hold your arms out. “Surprise?”

Leah doesn’t move at first. She just stares at you, blinking like you might vanish if she blinks too hard. Then she’s off the counter and across the room in a flash, her arms wrapping around you so tightly you think she might actually crack a rib.

“You’re home,” she mumbles into your shoulder, and it’s not a question. It’s a statement, a fact, like she needs to say it out loud to believe it.

You grin against her hair, letting her squeeze you like a stress ball. “Miss me?”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. “Shut up.”

“You’re gonna cry, aren’t you?” you tease, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

“I am not gonna cry,” she says, even though she very much looks like she might.

Her brother snorts. “She was sulking for days, by the way. Wouldn’t shut up about—”

“Shut it, Jacob,” Leah snaps, though her face is still buried in your neck, so the effect is slightly ruined.

Her mum pats her on the back as she passes by with a fresh glass of wine. “I think you owe me for sitting through her mood swings”

“I’ll send flowers,” you quip, and Leah pinches your side in retaliation.

The rest of the night is a blur of laughter, teasing, and Leah not letting go of your hand even once. When the meal is over and everyone’s settled into the sofa for a film, she tugs you aside, her voice soft.

“I really missed you”

“I know.” You kiss her, your grin melting into something softer. “I missed you too”

[ravengards-rogue]

WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.

rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.

ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.

✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+

✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)

✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover

sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.

sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ; 

It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur. 

Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun. 

Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him. 

He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate. 

So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy. 

You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures. 

(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )

When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember. 

 Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him. 

So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain. 

In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down. 

He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something. 

Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while. 

Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately. 

Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you. 

(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)

Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish. 

Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting. 

He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit. 

Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs. 

“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,” 

“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,” 

“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,” 

You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.

“One of these days, that moutha’ yours is gonna get me in real trouble.” 

You giggle back at him 

“What kinda trouble is that now?” 

Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice. 

“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.” 

“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.” 

Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;

John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly. 

Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn. 

Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted. 

On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it. 

John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily. 

Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.

 Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show. 

So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp. 

Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms. 

You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine. 

(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that. 

You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.) 

You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did. 

Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it.  It was just all too easy again, to be with you. 

You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family. 

But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see.  Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.

 It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street. 

Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy.  John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you. 

But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you. 

There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision. 

You might turn him into a literate man yet. 

John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life. 

Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself. 

Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.

It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck. 

“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?” 

You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you. 

“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,” 

John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.

His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat. 

“John,”  

What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.” 

“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,” 

“A foolish one,” 

John laughs. 

“I sure do love you for it,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;

Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving. 

It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get.  He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently. 

Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.

(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.) 

His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters. 

Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living. 

It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is)  loyal to Dutch. To the gang. 

He hadn’t thought much about what comes after. 

And it didn’t matter until he met you

He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long. 

But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time.  He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about. 

You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around. 

You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen.  If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing. 

(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.) 

When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit. 

From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would. 

When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d  never find again. 

That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves. 

Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too. 

For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.

You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way  they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you. 

Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him. 

“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him.  You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,” 

He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it’s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease.  All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.

His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides.  You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space. 

He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words. 

“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.” 

Darling as you always are, you nod softly. 

“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ; 

Wandering. 

He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on. 

There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly. 

There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains. 

He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few. 

The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it. 

Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list. 

Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.

 You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are. 

The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him. 

It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some. 

It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you.  And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything. 

But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not. 

He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss. 

For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars. 

Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze. 

You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks. 

“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,” 

He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?” 

“Well, I’m not fine with it.” 

You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?” 

“Please, what?” 

You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.” 

Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life.  “Yeah, that’s good to hear.” 

You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto. 

You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head. 

“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,” 

His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires. 

When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.

But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you. 

Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed. 

“Kiss?” 

Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”

Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[roseykat]

TITLE: Play Bite

PAIRING: Hyunjin x Jisung x female reader

SUMMARY: You, Hyunjin, and Jisung have a really fun time playing a dirty truth or dare game after the plans for everyone to go out failed. Part 1 to the 'Play' series.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

Part 1 - Play Bite Part 2 - Play Fight Part 3 - Play Right

TAGS: Hyunjin, Jisung, and reader have all consumed alcohol but are not fully drunk, smut, kissing, hickies, making out, dirty texts, dirty talk, erotic truth or dares, use of pet names such as 'bub', 'baby' and 'pretty', swearing, food play (nothing heavy), solo orgasm, female masturbation, suggestive material, very vague mentions of choking (not emphasised), slight traces of top!Jisung.

MASTERLIST

A/N: Think of this as a prelude to this hard thought I posted a while ago. If you haven't read it, it will give you some context into what will come in the future for this type of concept. Also just to preface but not give away too many spoilers, nobody is cheating in this story.

-

“Remove one piece of clothing, socks do not count,” Jisung reads aloud from the card in his hand. 

It’s the third task into the deck of dirty truth or dare at Hyunjin's apartment. After the entire group’s plan to go out for the night fell through when it started pelting down, it was in all three of your guys’ best interests to not waste the night. So, although he invited the rest of the group over for drinks, only you and Jisung decided to go around. 

An hour later into the night and already just past the point of tipsy, the three of you progressed to playing games. A set of dirty truth or dare cards was the first thing that caught Jisung’s keen eye as he analysed the plethora of games that Hyunjin had on a shelf in his living room. 

“You’re not even wearing socks, so you have no choice,” Hyunjin chuckles, almost evilly.

Jisung dons his best thinking face, eyes narrowing as he tries to come up with which item of clothing he wants to take off. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls the entire fabric up and over his head before placing it beside him, careful not to knock over his drink. 

Your eyes glue to his gorgeous bare top half for a few seconds too long before averting them to the floor like you weren’t supposed to look at him. It’s not like you’ve never seen him topless before in all of his honey toned glory. Almost always will Jisung proudly walk around half naked unprovoked when you’re around him. 

“Your turn bub,” he continued.

You clear your throat then lean over to pick a card up from the middle, then read it out loud, “oh…”

“What’s it say?” Jisung peeks his head over to see what’s written down before his jaw unhinges. “Let the person to your left select an area of your body for them to give you a hickey. Wow.”

Hyunjin, to your left, stares back at you in shock and horror. His cheeks were ballooned and full of liquid after taking a large swig of his drink before setting it down. The more silent seconds that tick by, the more flips his stomach keeps doing. But, he had to expect the unexpected with this game.

You and Jisung were ready to play by the rules and Hyunjin wasn’t going to exempt himself from it just because of the card you pulled. 

He swallows the mouthful of alcohol, “alright. Are you okay with me doing this?”

You nod even though you can feel your heart picking up its pace, “I am.”

He takes your answer and runs with it then ponders on the best place to plant a hickey on your body. It doesn’t take him long to think of a number of unspoken places where he would and even though he’s tipsy enough to disclose those areas, he decides to keep that to himself. 

“Okay, can you lie down for me then?” He asks. 

“Lie down?”

“Mm, otherwise it might be awkward to reach,” he explains vaguely. 

You start jumping to conclusions at the instant you hear his request, yet your mind is so hazy that your body just ends up listening to what Hyunjin has asked of you instead. You end up lying back on the floor, your head next to Jisung’s thigh who looks down at you while Hyunjin moves. 

His long body straddles yours but not fully putting his weight down on you. With his hand, he pulls back some of your hair so he can reach the area he wants before gently tilting your chin up and to the side towards Jisung. 

Hyunjin then sinks his face down just to the side of your throat and sucks. For a second, your body squirms at the slight achy pang that he brings to the surface of your skin. Still, with the way that your body is buzzing, it undoubtedly feels amazing. He remains there for a few seconds and uses his tongue to swipe over the surface he just marked.  

Jisung watches with his mouth ajar. He takes in the contorted look of concentration on your face, the way your eyelids flutter closed. 

It’s not long after until Hyunjin peels himself off of you then takes your hand to help you sit back up again. In hindsight, you wonder if it was all but necessary to lie down for him in order to give you a hickey. But Hyunjin’s thinking was that to reach your throat, you had to be on the ground. 

“That might’ve been-“ his face contorts with worry just looking at the fresh, deep and reddish mark. “A bit much, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you respond, trying to act cool under the pressure. “It felt nice anyway. Okay, Hyunnie’s turn.” 

He draws another card, reading it in his mind before his eyes dart to Jisung, “make out…with the person beside you for one minute.”

“W-Which side?” You ask. 

“My left which is-“

“Me,” Jisung responds, pointing at his chest. “Alright then.”

Hyunjin stares blankly at his friend, unsure if he's joking or not, “wait, you’re…you’re serious?”

Jisung shifts his body closer to Hyunjin, his face nearing him, “that’s the game right?”

“Y-Yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “Yeah, okay then.”

“I can set a timer,” you announce.

He’s never done this before - kissed a friend, made out with a friend. For one, Hyunjin knows Jisung has done so multiple times, having been an impartial witness to it. Whether it was while Jisung was drunk, sober, high, it happened. Even with the same gender. 

“Alright,” you say, pulling out your phone as you go to the clock app to set a timer for one minute and place it on the ground. “3, 2, 1, go.”

You’re not sure who it was first that leaned in for the kiss after being so warped by the fact that they were even doing this. It was like Hyunjin offered his mouth and Jisung went for the kill. Both of them started off slowly by the time ten seconds hit. Twenty seconds in and Hyunjin’s hand comes up to the side of his friends’ face when the kiss deepens even further. 

You watch the glide of their tongues move so languidly with one another, doing unspeakable things in between your legs. Similar to Jisung’s reaction when Hyunjin gave you a hickey, your mouth was on the floor. There’s no way in hell could you ignore how hot it was to see them make out. 

After forty seconds, the pace had picked up a notch as they continued to move in sync with one another. Jisung’s hand had made it onto Hyunjin’s lap with some unintentional plan of slowly hiking up his thigh. In his mind, the more touch, the better. He already felt floaty because of the alcohol. Now Jisung touching him, kissing him, was an enhancement. 

At the mark of one minute, your phone rudely blares its alarm. Hyunjin pulls away with red lips, Jisung’s as equally as glossy as the other. They stall for a second, almost as if they briefly thought about going back at it again…

“Minho was right,” Jisung breaks the silence willingly. “You are a pretty good kisser.”

“What?” Hyunjin exclaims, his eyes almost popping out of his head. 

“What?” He whines. “He and I were trying to figure out who in the group would be the best kisser. Minho reckons you are.”

“You say that as if you’ve kissed everyone in the group to try and find that out,” You realise. 

“Well I just kissed him, so it’s everyone except for you now. Which there’s still time for since it’s my turn now,” he responds in a slightly hopeful tone and picks up his next card. “Huh, maybe not - what’s the most amount of times you’ve had sex in one day?” 

“Is that the first truth question?” Hyunjin points out, trying to subtly keep himself calm after what just went down with Jisung. 

“I think so,” you reply. “We’re nowhere near halfway through the deck.” 

“Three and a half,” Jisung answers. 

“And a half?” You and Hyunjin parrot in unison, the confusion very present in both of your tones.

“Halfway through the act, got caught, had to wrap it up and leave,” Jisung explains very succinctly. “It would’ve been four if it weren’t for fucking Seungmin. Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m holding a grudge or anything.”

“Sure,” you trail off, trying your best not to laugh at his misfortune while you go to pick up a card. “Uh, lend your phone to the person on your right and let them send a dirty text to someone in your contacts.”

Jisung claps excitedly, “hand it over baby!” 

You roll your eyes, reluctantly passing him your device, “anyone except my family otherwise I probably won’t live to see another day.” 

He takes your phone earnestly with a cheeky and devious expression before delving righteously into your contacts list, “don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

Jisung’s thumb scrolls excitedly trying to find the right person to send the right message to. He pauses over a couple of names and then finds one he thinks will give the most entertaining response. He creates a new message and types in what he wants to say.  

From You: I’m horny. Come over and fuck me.

The silence was palpable as the fate of your dignity rests in your friends’ hands. Once the message is sent, Jisung keeps your phone on standby while you all wait for the response. The sheer riskiness of the dare calls for you to pick up your drink and finish the rest off, knowing that you’re going to need it. 

“What did you write?” You ask him anyway, setting your empty glass aside. 

He looks smugly at the screen again and repeats what he created, “I’m horny, come over and fuck me.”

Your eyes widen in horror, “t-that’s not…who did you send that to!?”

“That’s a bit straightforward isn’t it?” Hyunjin laughs. 

“Doesn’t matter now, your turn, go,” Jisung nods to you.

“Fine,” you groan, snatching up a card. “How many times a day do you get off? Once, maybe twice. Done. Next, you go.” 

Hyunjin blinks in surprise at the information you so rapidly provided and leans into the circle to grab his card, “alright. Choose one person to sit in between your legs for the remainder of the game.” 

“I think considering that he and I just made out, it’s your turn to do something now,” Jisung smoothly contends his point before you could even get a word out. 

“Fair enough,” you respond coolly.

The move is practically childsplay in comparison to what they’ve done so far. Nonetheless, it quickly proved itself to be rather effective on your body. 

Hyunjin tries not to grin and spreads his legs for you to slot perfectly in between them. You’ve been this close to him before - in a hug at least. But never has Hyunjin been as acutely intimate with you as of right now. As he’s pressed up behind you, it’s hopeless to try not to be so affected by such subtlety. The warmth from his body glows like a heater onto your back and the steadiness of his breathing is comforting. 

“Sungie’s turn,” he says from behind you. 

Another card is taken from the deck and Jisung reads once more, “feed someone a food item with your mouth. Okay, but what kind of food?” 

“There’s that bowl of grapes just there on the coffee table,” Hyunjin points over to it. 

Jisung spins around on the floor and sees the assortment of snacks that they had laid out on the table earlier on. He turns back with the entire silver bowl in his lap, popping a couple of them in his mouth and eating away to his heart's content before proceeding with the dare. 

“You’re breathing heavy,” Hyunjin whispers teasingly in your ear while Jisung isn’t looking. 

“S-Shut up,” you utter back to him, trying not to act so utterly embarrassed by the truth he’s managed to highlight. 

Jisung pops in two more grapes and goes to sit beside you before talking with his mouth full, “bo’ o’ ya.”

“Huh?” Hyunjin retorts, trying to decipher what his friend is saying. 

You ponder for a second, “I think he said both of us?” 

Your guess comes up as correct because without a proper verbal answer from Jisung, his actions spoke louder. He leans towards your face first - closer than it has ever been since you’ve known him. The purple grape sits between his teeth as he goes to pass it to you by his mouth. It was awkward to manoeuvre at first, but the pair of you discovered that using your lips is key. By that point, Jisung manages to exchange the fruit as you crush down on the grape that explodes with such a sweet flavour. 

Then, he moves a bit behind you to reach Hyunjin. Both of them struggle to pass the grape without fully touching each other's lips once more. Then again, that was the point of the card that Jisung pulled. 

“Yummy?” he asks, sliding back to his original spot with the bowl. 

“Mm,” Hyunjin hums while he chews. “Sweet.” 

Half of the stuff that you’ve done so far with them makes you realise that you’re not that nervous to do these kinds of things. It could’ve been the alcohol, that definitely helps. But also because they’re two of your best friends and wherever they are, you feel safe in their proximity. 

“My turn,” you say as Jisung picks the top card off of the deck and slides it to you across the floor. “Oh - same as Sungie’s, remove a piece of clothing, socks do not count. Isn’t this just a forfeit card since it’s already been picked up?”

“No, not necessarily?” Hyunjin answers. “Plus, what if you forfeit that one and pick another one but it’s worse?”

He had a good point. It was a very mellow dare in comparison to the others you’ve all completed. With that in mind, your hands find their way down to your shorts, contemplating whether to take them off or not. Considering Jisung already has his top off, you went for the opposite in a sudden spur of confidence that was short lived when you saw the look on your friend's face. 

Jisung’s eyes couldn’t leave where your hands moved as you freed your legs from the fabric, allowing you to remain in your underwear. However, it becomes very apparent to you that taking your pants off wasn’t such a good idea when you know that you’re wet. Whether they knew it, particularly Jisung who had a full view of you, was too late. 

Behind you, Hyunjin was trying to keep himself calm as you moved around a bit, “w-who’s turn is it now?” 

Jumping onto a different topic gave time for Jisung to blink away from your body. He feels guilty for even staring at you like that in the first place. Then again, it’s not like you weren’t doing the same ever since he took his shirt off. 

“Yours actually,” you answer and without any spatial awareness whatsoever, you lean forward just a bit to pick up a card for Hyunjin that your ass slightly pushes back into his crotch in the process. 

After the fact of the matter, you realise what you’ve done. But it wasn’t intentional. You just wanted to pick up a card for him so that he didn’t have to move from behind you. As you come back to sit between his legs properly, you feel his forehead rest against the back of your head - a silent sign to prove he definitely recognised what you did to him.

Although he didn’t say anything because what was there to say to that? In hindsight, it might’ve been better forJisung to just read it out for Hyunjin. 

“H-Here,” you offer the card to him, playing it off. 

He lifts his head back up from yours and takes the item, “what is your dirtiest fantasy and why?” 

Right now if Hyunjin was able to answer honestly, he would say ‘fucking you while his best friend watches.’ But even for a filthy game that they’re playing, he thought it would be inappropriate to say. On top of that, it’s not actually his dirtiest fantasy. He could do way worse but just doesn’t know what at this point in time in his sex life. There was still time for him to explore…

“I haven’t really got one at the moment,” says Hyunjin. “I suppose just real…rough sex.” 

Jisung immediately becomes intrigued, oblivious to the fact that Hyunjin had it in him to admit such a scandalous piece of information, “what does that mean to you though?”

He becomes even more flustered under the heat of his friends’ question, it doesn’t help that he’s nearly fully hard behind you either, “it means things like…choking or hair pulling-”

“What…you like to do those things or those things being done to yo-

“Both, I like both. Anyway, that’s not the question,” Hyunjin interrupts impatiently. “Just move on.” 

It’s difficult for you not to laugh at him, yet as you go to pick up a card - more carefully this time for Hyunjin’s sake - your smile fades quicker than you could blink. Not one doubt crossed your mind about how obscene this game could get. Yet this card refuted all of that. 

“I…get…get yourself off in front of someone,” you mumble in a very quiet voice.

“Get what?” Jisung tries to reiterate. 

Hyunjin’s brows knit in concentration as he reads the card from over your shoulder, “she has to get herself in front of someone.”

An ‘o’ forms in Jisung’s mouth before he responds to that statement, “that’s a…an interesting card.” 

The three of you fall deathly silent to the weight that the dare has you under. Your mind wants you to do it, to satiate that instinctual appetite to pleasure yourself ever since the game heated up. To do so in front of your friends doesn’t appear to be a bad idea which technically it isn’t from the way they already have you unintentionally wet. That in itself said a lot.

Therefore, you spread your legs and bend your knees. 

An expression of realisation washes over Jisung, coming to grips with what’s about to unfold. As for Hyunjin, he can only sit and remain in place as a support for you to lean against when your hand slips down the front of your underwear as you begin to rub. A sigh of warm relief then pushes past your lips. The pads of your fingers collect your damp essence to use as you circle over your clit. 

Already, a hefty volume of pressure is escalating in the pit of your tummy, tingling and spreading throughout your lower half. All from being turned on by the game. The person in front of you and behind you feel the exact same way except the one behind you was already there a long time ago. Their cocks fill out against the inside of their thighs and Hyunjin is positive that you can feel him through his pants. 

“Y/N,” Jisung says. “Does that make you feel good?”

“Jisung,” Hyunjin warns him sharply, not wanting his friend to fuel the fire that’s burning. 

“Mm, y-yes,” you stutter, breath catching at the base of your throat the more you try and push yourself towards an edge. 

It could be better though. It could be the pair of them groping and teasing your body at their will. You know that they both know how to use their mouths with the way that they made out earlier on. Not to mention from the grapevine, you’ve heard about Jisung too; how he knows how to eat pussy. Then you have Hyunjin, who just exposed his fantasy of liking having rough sex. The possibilities with his ideas would be endless and fun. 

With the pair of them, you don’t think you would ever run out of orgasms. Just thinking about it makes your fingers speed up, becoming increasingly more wetter. Your muscles jerk every now and then when you inch closer to the tail end of your orgasm, which causes you to unintentionally move against Hyunjin’s crotch once more. 

“Y/N,” Hyunjin breathes out against you. 

“Don’t touch her,” Jisung snaps. “This is her dare.”

“I-I’m not fucking touching her,” he presses back madly, then mutters just to himself as he hides behind you. “Can’t help it Jisung.”

“K-Keep watching…” you plead. “So…close.” 

Hyunjin’s nails are digging deep into the carpet beneath him and his restraint not to touch you teeters dangerously on the last millimetre of a cliff. He’s throbbing, achingly hard. For you. Jisung can see his friends' knuckles turning white but he understands. He too remains hard in his sweats, which was obvious to you. Even just the slight outline that you can see indicates to you that he’s big.

Your mind starts wondering what that sort of length would do to your body, how would it feel to have inside of you? As you ask yourself those questions, you try to imagine that sensation when you start fingering yourself. 

You whimper pathetically, curling over that sweet spongy spot, “yes, feels so good. Makes me wanna cum…” 

“Yeah? Gonna cum in front of us?” Jisung eggs you on. “Gonna make yourself cum just for us?

Your dozy eyes lock with him just for a few seconds before you nod against Hyunjin’s body, “j-just for you both.” 

“F-Fuck,” Hyunjin squeezes his eyes tight shut, gritting his teeth so much that his jaw aches. 

As that familiar euphoric bliss catches up to you, a silent scream paints over your face while your eyelids clamp shut and your eyebrows are furrowed together, focusing on the pleasure. For a moment, you’ve forgotten that Hyunjin is behind you as you can’t help but shiver helplessly against his body from the waves of your orgasm. Quiet yet very audible moans ring throughout Hyunjin’s apartment, making themselves known as you gradually come down with heavy gasps. 

“Holy shit,” Jisung murmurs in awe, he can see that you’ve soaked through your underwear. 

The large wet and sticky patch makes him want to lurch forward, tear the piece of clothing from your body and taste you for himself. To have his face buried in between your legs would be the Atlantis of his own fantasy right now, to have you use his mouth and tongue until you’re cumming all over again. 

In the moments of quiet when the still air is filled with nothing but your staggered breathing and depleted whimpers as you try to collect yourself, your phone buzzes on Jisung’s thigh - the reply to the dirty text he sent from earlier on.

He looks down at the glowing bright screen and his jaw drops to the floor once more. His mind sobers quickly.

From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x

There was no way.

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[halfmoonaria]

chasing

pairing: cairo sweet x female reader

summary: cairo finds herself doing something she’s never done before.

wordcount: 3.3k

Cairo always got what she wanted.

She knew how to bend people to her will with a well-timed glance, a dangerous smirk, or a few whispered words that could send chills down anyone's spine.

Manipulation was an art she had mastered, her every move calculated and deliberate. She could sense the shift in a room the moment she walked in, how people instinctively gravitated toward her.

There was something almost intoxicating about the way people danced around her, eager to be on her good side.

So, when you, the new student walked into the room, confident and stunning, Cairo was certain you'd be no different.

She knew she'd have your attention in no time.

However, you didn't fall into line like the others.

You didn't focus on her the way she expected. Sure, you smiled, you were kind, but you treated her just like you treated everyone else.

You were friendly with everyone.

Too friendly, in her opinion. And that didn't sit right with her.

You had a way of floating between conversations, effortlessly charming everyone with your smile, your laugh, that way you had of making people feel seen. It grated on Cairo. Not because she didn't like it—no, she was impressed. Intrigued, even. But you treated her like everyone else.

And Cairo wasn't "everyone else."

She didn't want to be just another face you smiled at before moving on.

From the moment she set her sights on you, Cairo had already mapped out the game plan.

She'd sweep in with a little subtlety, make sure you knew that your attention should be on her. That she wasn't just another person you smiled at and moved on from. But every time she tried to catch your eye, she found herself met with the same warm smile you gave to everyone else.

It drove her insane.

You weren't playing the game right.

At first, she tried to be subtle, thinking she could reel you in with a little charm.

She'd linger near your conversations, leaning in just enough to draw your attention, flashing you a smile that usually sent people stumbling over their words. But you never did.

It irked her more than she'd ever admit.

One afternoon, she caught you at your locker, her presence lingering just a bit closer than necessary.

She didn't need to say much—just enough to remind you she was there.

"You've been busy," she said casually, her voice smooth. "Making friends?"

You barely glanced at her, smiling as you stacked your books in your arms. "Yeah, everyone here's really nice. It's been fun."

Cairo's fingers tapped against the edge of your locker door, her posture relaxed, but there was something sharp in her gaze. "You've got a lot of people's attention," she added, her voice carrying a faint edge, almost teasing, like she was sharing a secret.

But you didn't pick up on it, just continued gathering your books, flashing her that friendly grin she was starting to hate. "I guess so. I just like meeting new people."

She gave a small laugh, a flicker of frustration flashing through her eyes. Was that all it was to you? Meeting new people?

"I don't usually let just anyone into my circle, you know," she said, her tone light, but the hint of something more serious was there, just beneath the surface.

You shrugged, seeming to miss the point entirely. "That's cool. Everyone needs their space sometimes."

Cairo's smile tightened, just slightly. You weren't supposed to treat her like this—like she was just someone else in the crowd.

She wasn't used to dropping hints that went unnoticed, her usual strategies failing to catch your eye the way they did with everyone else. But there you were, treating her like a casual acquaintance, and it drove her crazy.

But she didn't let it show. She wasn't about to throw away her cool, not yet. Cairo always got what she wanted, and while you were making her work for it, she wasn't about to let you slip through her fingers. Not when she knew, deep down, that she was different.

You weren't cowering, you weren't melting into her hands, and it was starting to make her want to prove herself even more.

She wasn't used to it—feeling like she was chasing someone for attention. Normally, people flocked to her, desperate for even a sliver of her approval. But with you, it was different.

You didn't need her, and that was something she wasn't sure she knew how to handle.

But Cairo wasn't going to let that stop her. If she couldn't bend you to her will immediately, she'd find another way. Because in the end, she always got what she wanted.

And right now, what she wanted was you.

And one way or another, you'd see it too.

Although it took longer than she had anticipated.

Cairo couldn't even begin to admit it—not to you, not to herself.

The pull toward you was undeniable, slowly slipping past her walls, making her do things that were beneath her usual pride.

Things like asking for help. Her, of all people, needing someone else? It was almost laughable.

Yet, here she was, waiting in the hallway after class, her stomach twisting in unfamiliar knots, even as she forced that signature smirk onto her lips—the one she knew could get her anything. Anything, except maybe you.

It was after the last bell of the day, the hallways still buzzing with students grabbing their stuff and making plans for the weekend. You were at your locker, sorting through your books when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Hey, Y/N," Cairo said, her tone as smooth as always, cutting through the noise around you.

You turned to see her leaning against the lockers, her usual confident smirk in place. "You think you could help me with that English assignment Mr. Miller gave us?"

You didn't think twice, returning her look with the same warm smile you always gave her. "Yeah, sure. When do you want to get together?"

The casual buzz of students chatting and lockers slamming continued around you, but Cairo's focus stayed locked on you, her expression cool as if she had all the time in the world.

That simple, unbothered answer made Cairo's chest tighten in a way she hadn't expected.

You didn't know.

You had no idea that Cairo didn't actually need help.

She was the top student—well, she had been until you showed up. Now she was fighting for her place at the top, something she never had to do before. And she hated it. But she wanted this. She wanted you.

Everyone who knew Cairo would've raised an eyebrow at the request. She had history with Mr. Miller, and all it took was one well-timed request for an A to appear in her gradebook. But this time, Cairo wasn't interested in the grade. She wasn't interested in winning over Mr. Miller.

She was interested in you.

When she arrived at your place later that evening, the sight of you waiting on the porch felt like a sucker punch to the gut.

You looked even better—relaxed, confident, more like yourself. Your hair fell effortlessly over your shoulders, and the casual way you leaned against the railing made her stomach flip.

She didn't understand this feeling. It wasn't like her to be knocked off balance. Cairo was always the one in control, the one with people tripping over themselves for her attention.

But now, she was the one who wanted your attention.

"Hey," you greeted her with a casual smile, holding the door open. "Glad you made it. Wanna head up?"

Cairo nodded, trying to mask the sudden rush of nerves that came with stepping into your space.

Your house was warm and inviting, a little messy but in a lived-in, comfortable way. It felt like you—authentic, with no need to impress anyone.

The smell of dinner still lingered in the air, and the faint hum of music from a room down the hall made it feel all cozy.

You led her to your room, where textbooks and notes were already spread out on your desk. You jumped right into the assignment, eager to help, as always.

But Cairo wasn't paying attention to the pages in front of her. She couldn't focus. All she could see was you—the way your lips moved when you explained something, the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about an idea.

The worst part was how kind you were. It was maddening. You treated her like anyone else, not the untouchable, intimidating Cairo Sweet. And somehow, that made her want you more.

As you sat next to her on the bed, pointing out sections of the text, your knee brushed against hers. It was a small touch, insignificant to you, but it sent a jolt through Cairo's body. Her pulse quickened, heat rising in her cheeks, and she hated it—hated how out of control she felt around you.

But even more than that, she hated how much she liked it.

You leaned in closer to show her a note you'd written, and your breath was warm against her skin.

She barely registered the words you were saying. All she could focus on was the way you smelled, the warmth of your body next to hers, and the soft brush of your hand as you passed the paper back and forth.

She wasn't used to feeling this way—this fluttering in her stomach, the racing heartbeat that accompanied every one of your smiles.

You were turning her on, plain and simple. Cairo wasn't used to being the one who got flustered, but there she was, chasing after your attention, craving every little bit of affection you gave without even realizing it.

And it wasn't just about how hot you were, though that was undeniable. It was the way you treated her like she was just another person—no special treatment, no fear or awe in your eyes. You treated her like a friend, and somehow, that drove her insane.

For the first time, Cairo felt like she was the one chasing after something, and she hated the feeling.

Yet she needed to be closer, to figure out why you made her feel this way—why you made her feel so out of control.

But you were all she could think about.

Even days after the study session, it was still there—on repeat in her mind. Every smile, every move you made. She couldn't stop thinking about you, no matter how much she tried. It was getting under her skin, and she hated it.

Like now, when Cairo sat on the edge of her bed, tapping ash off her cigarette into the dish beside her.

The smoke curled around her, thick and slow, as she took another drag, frustration bubbling in her chest. Ever since that night, she couldn't get you out of her head, and it was starting to piss her off.

From her spot in the corner, Winnie watched, an amused grin tugging at her lips. "You're still thinking about her, aren't you?"

Cairo shot her a sharp glare, but Winnie didn't back down. Of course she didn't; she never did.

"I'm not thinking about her," Cairo said, though the way her words rushed out betrayed her. "I just don't get it. I don't need to think about anyone. People think about me. That's how it works."

Winnie raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying it. "Uh-huh. So why are you pacing around your room, smokin' like it's the end of the world? You've been talking about her nonstop."

"I'm not pacing," Cairo snapped, even though she had been standing and moving restlessly just a moment ago. She sat back down quickly, as if to prove a point. "And I'm not talking about her."

Winnie just chuckled. "Right. You're totally not obsessed with her or anything. Must be why you asked her to help with your English assignment—because you suddenly forgot how to ace essays."

Cairo scowled, taking another drag before blowing the smoke out through her nose. "I didn't forget anything. I just wanted to see what she had to offer. You know, test the competition."

"Oh, totally. You're all about fair competition," Winnie teased, leaning back with her arms crossed. "Except you've always been top dog, Cairo. Why do you care?"

Cairo stood up again, too worked up to sit still, pacing back and forth as she waved her cigarette in the air. "I don't care! That's the point! She's just this—this girl, right? She's new, she's hot, I get it. But so what? So am I. If I wanted her, trust me, Winnie, I'd get her without even trying. It's not like she's some unattainable goddess. I mean, seriously, she's just... just... friendly!"

Winnie snorted. "Oh no, not the deadly sin of friendliness."

"I'm serious!" Cairo shot back. "It's infuriating! She's nice to everyone, and it's like she's not even trying to get on my radar. She doesn't... she doesn't treat me like. You know. Do you know how weird that is for me, Winnie? She just smiles and moves on like it's nothing. And I'm supposed to be okay with that?"

Winnie grinned, clearly enjoying Cairo's meltdown. "Sounds like you want her attention real bad."

"No!" Cairo's voice rose in frustration, and she jabbed her cigarette in the air to punctuate her point. "I don't! I just—if I wanted her attention, she'd give it to me. Trust me, I've done it a hundred times before. But it's like... I don't know. I don't need her to fawn over me, but she should at least... notice me more."

"Sure. Because that totally doesn't sound like you're into her or anything," Winnie said, leaning forward with a knowing look. "You're just mad because she doesn't act like your little fan club."

Cairo groaned, dropping back onto her bed. "I'm not into her, Winnie! God, I can't believe you're even suggesting that. She's cute, I'll give you that, but that's it. That's all it is."

"You sure about that? You've been talking about her for the last 20 minutes."

Cairo waved her off. "I'm venting! That's different. I just don't get how she can walk around acting like I'm no big deal. Like, I could snap my fingers and—"

"—and what, Cairo?" Winnie cut her off, smirking. "You can't force her to like you. And let's be real, you wouldn't even have to try this hard if you didn't care so much."

Cairo took one last drag, stubbing the cigarette out in the dish, her eyes narrowing. "I'm telling you, if I wanted her, I'd have her. She's not some puzzle I can't figure out. It's just... a challenge. That's all."

Winnie shook her head, laughing softly. "Keep telling yourself that."

But even as Cairo tried to convince herself—and Winnie—that she didn't care, deep down, there was that gnawing feeling. The one that made her think of you just a little too often, the one that made her wonder why your smile lingered in her mind long after you were gone.

The next morning, Cairo stood in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection with a level of concentration she wasn't used to.

She had always been effortless—never needing to try when it came to her looks. But now, she cared. A lot more than she wanted to admit.

The black skirt she chose hugged her hips perfectly, the tiny stripes adding just enough detail to keep it interesting. She paired it with a white shirt, left a little loose, and she made the deliberate decision to go braless underneath.

Just in case you noticed.

Her jean jacket hung over her shoulders, completing the look. It was casual but... intentional. And she hated that she was doing this. But at the same time, she didn't stop.

Winnie stood in the doorway, watching Cairo with an amused smirk. "So... this is what it's come to, huh?"

Cairo shot her a warning glance, but Winnie just laughed. "What? I'm just saying. You've been in front of that mirror for the past twenty minutes, and now you're wearing a skirt? Since when do you care about impressing anyone?"

"I don't," Cairo muttered, brushing a hand through her hair, making sure it looked just the right amount of messy. "I just like this outfit, that's all."

Winnie stepped into the room, folding her arms as she watched Cairo fuss over the details. "Sure, sure. And the whole 'no bra' thing? Totally for comfort, right?"

Cairo's eyes flickered toward Winnie in the mirror, a small frown tugging at her lips. "What's your point?"

"My point is," Winnie said with a grin, "you've never dressed like this for anyone. You're trying to impress her. It's obvious."

Cairo scoffed, straightening up. "I'm not trying to impress anyone, least of all her. I just like looking good. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Winnie teased, leaning against the dresser. "Except you've always looked good without even trying, and now... you're trying. Hard."

Cairo didn't respond, choosing instead to grab her bag and sling it over her shoulder. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Winnie shook her head, still smirking. "Right. Well, good luck with your 'I don't care' look. But if I didn't know better, I'd say you're hoping she notices."

Cairo rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small flare of nerves twisting in her stomach.

She hated that Winnie was right. She was hoping you'd notice. Every time she saw you, your outfits amazed her. Whether it was something casual or a bit more dressed up, you always looked effortlessly put together. It drove her insane how you could look so good without even trying.

And now here she was, doing the exact same thing—hoping her choice of clothes might catch your eye, maybe make you see her in a different light. She was Cairo Sweet, after all. People noticed her. You were supposed to notice her.

As she left the house, Winnie's laughter echoed behind her, but Cairo shook it off. She wasn't doing this for anyone. Especially not you.

But when she saw you that day, dressed in your usual impeccable style, her heart skipped a beat. You looked perfect, as always. And despite her best efforts to play it cool, she couldn't help but wonder if you noticed her, too.

As the day progressed, Cairo tried to play it cool, but the nervous energy buzzed through her.

Each time she caught sight of you in the hall, laughter bubbling around you, she felt that familiar flutter in her stomach. Today, you looked particularly stunning, and it made her second-guess everything.

Finally, at lunch, she found herself sitting across from you, her heart racing as you casually chatted with friends. She watched you, captivated by the way you effortlessly engaged everyone around you. It was infuriating and exhilarating all at once.

"Hey," you said, turning your attention to her. "Nice outfit."

Cairo's breath caught, and for a moment, she felt the world around them fade. "Thank you," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. The compliment, though simple, sent a rush through her, igniting that gnawing feeling in her chest.

You smiled at her, and something inside Cairo shifted. Maybe she wasn't just another face in the crowd to you. Maybe there was something more there—something she had been too scared to acknowledge until now.

As lunch continued, the laughter and chatter faded into the background. Cairo found herself lost in the moment, caught between wanting to impress you and the fear of showing too much. But as you engaged her in conversation, your eyes sparkling with interest, she felt a sense of hope blooming within her.

For the first time, she allowed herself to think that maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something special. Something that went beyond manipulation and appearances. Something real.

And in that moment, as you smiled at her, Cairo knew she was willing to take that risk.

[girlgenius1111]

turbulence

barça!teen reader you hate flying, and you hate planes. normally, you manage a fair amount of control over your anxiety, but when you run out of your anxiety medication just before leaving for the preseason games in the US, you lose control, and have no choice but to turn to your teammates for help.

-

Air travel was just part of your job. It was something you’d never quite gotten used to, but also not something you made a big deal about. At least, not normally. 

You had your plane routine; take your anxiety medication, sleep the whole flight if you could, and at the very least, close your eyes all through take off and landing. It was common knowledge among the team that you fell asleep very easily; a bus ride longer than 20 minutes, and you were out cold. No one really batted an eye, then, when you pulled your eyeshades over your face almost as soon as you got in your seat on the plane. However, when one of the steps of your routine failed, the rest of it toppled over like a set of dominos. 

A 12.5 hour flight was bad enough to begin with. It wasn’t possible to sleep the whole time, but you’d downloaded a few movies and brought a book with you, so there were suitable distractions. It was manageable, though not ideal. 

Until you checked the little pill bottle just before you left for the airport, and realized you were out of your anxiety medication. How it had slipped your mind to refill the bottle after the last flight you’d taken was beyond you, but you genuinely didn’t recall running out. 

There was nothing you could do. There wasn’t time to refill your prescription, you had to leave to meet the team in 5 minutes. You stood frozen for a moment, the prospect of not just one flight, not two, but three entire long flights completely unmedicated quickly sending you into a spiral. 

Alexia’s voice broke you out of your stupor. 

“Chica! It’s time to go!” 

Any other day, you would have been annoyed that your captain used her key to let herself in, but today you didn’t have it in you. You were resigned to your fate, grabbing your bag and taking a deep breath, before you headed out to the living room. 

Alexia was waiting impatiently, though she grinned when she saw you. “Ready?!” 

You tried to match her energy, though her smile faltered, and you were sure you failed. “Yeah! Let’s go!”

The blonde studied you as you walked down to her car with her, and you tried to act as normally as you could, even though internally, you were freaking out. You and Alexia lived in the same building, which was one of the conditions for living alone at 18 that the club had set. She checked on you constantly, showing up unannounced to drag you to dinner at her apartment, or bringing you a protein smoothie that she’d just happened to make extra of. Alexia took her job of watching out for you very seriously, and you couldn’t imagine how much more intense she would be if she found out how bad your anxiety could get. 

It didn’t seem like something a professional footballer should have, in your head, so you pretended you didn’t have it. You took your medication, you went to therapy, and you dealt with it all yourself. You didn’t keep many things from Alexia, as she’d quickly become like an older sister to you, but this one thing you just couldn’t bring yourself to admit. No matter how much you wanted to break down and tell her everything you just… couldn’t. 

You could feel her worry growing as you got on the bus and bypassed your friends to sit by yourself. They all exchange looks, knowing you to normally match their hyperness and excitement. The seat Vicky was saving for you remained empty; she was practically bouncing in her seat with excitement, and Alexia expected the same behavior out of you. Today, though, you just sunk into an empty row and pulled out your phone. 

While Alexia watched you carefully from the front of the bus, you were too busy to notice. You were crafting a text to your therapist, hoping for her to give you some advice for the plane ride. There were only around two hours until take off, and you could feel your nerves grow and grow as you neared the airport. 

All through security, the whole way to the gate, and in line to board the plane, you were so quiet and so unlike yourself. It drew the attention of several of your teammates, in fact, until Irene appeared next to you, a very motherly worry on her face. 

“Are you alright? You’ve been acting strange today. You haven’t tried to trip Mapi even once.” Irene asked quietly. The teammates near you in line grew a bit quieter, curious as to what your issue was. 

Feeling several pairs of eyes on you, and still not feeling particularly like sharing the issue, you just shrugged. “I didn’t sleep well. Just tired.” You lied, conveniently yawning just after you finished talking. It was an anxiety thing, actually, a weird thing you did more often when you were anxious. Of course, no one else knew that. 

They all relaxed slightly at your response, especially Alexia, confident that they’d discovered the problem, and it wasn’t much to worry about. As you stepped onto the plane, though, you knew the opposite to be true. There was plenty to be worried about. 

-

“Chica?” Pina asked, realizing you hadn’t been listening to her long, very drawn out story of the mischief her and her sister had gotten into during her last visit. 

You hummed quietly, eyes fixed out the window. As a general rule, you tried not to look out the window when you were in the air. It never made you feel anything but panic. You were running out of coping mechanisms that worked, though, and in a last ditch effort to avoid a complete panic attack, you looked out the window. You thought, maybe, it would reassure you to see the plane moving steadily through the air. 

It didn’t. Instead, you felt your stomach plummet, to what felt like the earth underneath you. The ground was so very far away. It was likely your imagination, but it felt as though the plane dropped slightly, and you clutched at the arms of your seat, sitting back rigidly in your chair. Eyes shut, inhaling as much as you could through your nose, and out through your mouth. 

You felt Claudia’s hand tapping on yours, vaguely heard her voice repeating your name. Pina was the last of your worries, though, and any will you had remaining to keep your embarrassing fear a secret had flown out the window, along with the last of your composure. You were trapped in your head, anxiety swirling around until you couldn’t tell up from down, didn’t know anything except for the fact that you were terrified. 

Claudia looked around in panic, having watched you go from somewhat stressed to completely out of it in just a few seconds. She had been trying to distract you from whatever had you acting so odd, but it clearly hadn’t worked. She caught Mapi’s eye, who was sitting next to Ingrid across the aisle. The centerback immediately sat up at the concerned look on the forward’s face. 

Gently, Mapi shifted Ingrid’s head off her shoulder where it was resting as the Norwegian slept, and leaned across the aisle, towards Claudia. 

“You okay, Pina?” Mapi inquired, resting a hand on the younger girl’s shoulder. She didn’t really spare you a glance, assuming that you were out cold, as you normally were on flights. 

“Something is wrong, I don’t know what happened.” Claudia said quietly, nodding her head over to you. Mapi looked closer, noticing for the first time how labored your breathing was, how tight your eyes were shut, how hard you gripped the arms of your seat. She’d never seen you like this before, and it scared her. 

“Up, Pina.” The Spaniard instructed, sliding into the younger girl’s seat. Pina took Mapi’s old seat, watching anxiously as the older woman placed a hand on your arm. 

“Cariño?” Mapi wondered quietly. Your eyes remained shut, your head shaking side to side just slightly. “What’s wrong?” 

Maybe you should have told your teammates about your fear of flying. If not right at the beginning, definitely before you tried to take this painfully long flight unmedicated. Now, it was too late. You’d lost completely the ability to speak, not even really able to focus fully on Mapi talking to you. You were stuck, completely out of your depth and with no way to calm yourself down. The only thing that could help was to be safely back on solid ground, and there was simply no way to make that happen right now. 

Before Mapi could say another word, a hand fell on her shoulder, tapping impatiently. She looked up, finding her captain looking down at her with a frown on her face. 

“Mapi, go back to your seat. You can’t switch seats on an airplane.” Alexia whisper-yelled, clearly grumpy at having to get out of her seat to scold her friend. Surely, she’d made that rule up, but she didn’t have it in her to deal with your and Mapi’s antics, especially not on such a long flight. 

Mapi looked at her nervously, though, gesturing back towards you. “Something’s wrong.” 

Almost instantly after looking at you, Alexia’s face went from grumpy to dead serious, able to recognize that you were very much not okay. “Up, Mapi.” Alexia instructed, grabbing the defender's arm and hauling her out of her seat. Mapi grumbled indignantly, before she did the same thing to Pina, sending the young forward back to the captain’s empty seat.

Sitting down beside you, your captain tried not to panic herself at the state you were in.

 Alexia had seen you upset before, of course she had. Once, you’d knocked on her door in tears after reading some particularly cruel comments about yourself online. Another time, she’d come over to invite you to dinner only to find you curled up on the couch, desperately missing home. When Mapi took her teasing too far, or you sustained even a minor knock during a match, Alexia was always right there to pick you up and help you dust yourself off. She was reliable, she was safe, and she knew how to help you. 

Except now, she didn’t. She called your name a few times, but you didn’t react. 

For your part, you had no idea who was sitting next to you. It was all you could do to stay planted in your seat, and not go charging up the aisle and into the cockpit to beg the pilot to land. Logically, you knew how ridiculous that was, but your ability to be logical was slipping. Quickly. 

Your lungs burned as you hyperventilated, chest pounding and ears ringing. Your body was begging for some kind of relief, anything to get your nervous system to stop overworking itself, even for just a minute. You needed help, you realized. Help you couldn’t give yourself. Forcing your eyes open, you looked to where Pina had been sitting, or had that been Mapi? Either way, you found Alexia staring back at you, her lips moving, but no sound reaching your ears. 

“Chiqui, what are you feeling? Are you sick?” Alexia asked gently, reaching across the divider to pull your hand into hers. It was clammy and shaking in her grip, only reinforcing Alexia’s assumption that you were ill. “It’s okay if you feel unwell, just tell me. I can try to help.” 

Never in your life had you regretted something as much as you regretted not telling Alexia about your anxiety. Not only did she not know what the issue was, but even if you communicated it to her, you thought it to be terribly unlikely that she’d be able to help at all. 

“Come on, talk to me.” Alexia encouraged. If you’d had the ability to do so, you would have shouted at her that you couldn’t talk, obviously. You couldn’t even breathe. Instead, you dug your nails into the palm of your free hand, and forced yourself to suck in a breath. 

“Not sick. Anxiety.” You choked out. There was terror written in your voice, so much so that Alexia felt a sharp pang of fear go through her. Just then, the aircraft jolted slightly. It could barely be called turbulence, so minimal that most of the people around you hadn’t even blinked. Your grip had tightened painfully around Alexia’s hand, and understanding dawned across her face. 

That was all she needed, and thank god, because you were seconds away from asking the flight attendant for a parachute and taking matters into your own hands. 

“Okay, okay. I’ve got you.” Alexia brought your shaky palm to her chest, pressing it right over her heart, before she took a ridiculously exaggerated breath. “Like that, big breath. All you have to do is think about breathing.” 

You tried, inhaling and exhaling so quickly you weren’t even sure any oxygen had entered your lungs. Your vision started to go dark around the edges, and you let out a dry sob, clutching even tighter to Alexia’s hand. 

“No, no, you’re okay. Stay here with me.” Alexia soothed. She let your hand fall from her chest, instead shoving the armrest in between you both up and out of the way. Scooting closer, she pulled you into her arms and squeezed. 

At first, it was suffocating. You were in a plane, an enclosed space to begin with, and you didn’t need that space shrinking any more. You squirmed, trying to escape her grasp, but Alexia held tighter. 

“I’ve got you. Focus on the pressure of my arms around you, feel me breathe. Try to match it. You’re okay, cariño. Everything is okay. ” 

Not really by choice, your body collapsed against your captain, and you tried to do as she’d instructed. You focused on her, the tight hold she had on you. It felt safe, if you thought about it hard enough. 

Safe, not suffocating. 

Her chin rested on your head, her hand rubbing up and down your arm. You could feel her every breath with the way she was holding you, and unconsciously, you began to match it. 

You gasped in breath after breath in time with the rise and fall of Alexia’s chest. Slower, slower, and slower still until your lungs no longer burned. 

In and out. In and out. 

Until your fingers and toes stopped tingling, and your muscles began to relax. 

Your ears stopped ringing, and you could hear again. The white noise of the plane engine was loud, but you could still hear the crinkle of Irene’s water bottle, and a low voice from somewhere in front of you asking if everything was okay. 

Most of all, you could hear Alexia. Still held securely in her arms, she kept up a running dialogue, not allowing herself to fall silent for even a second. 

“There you go, nena. You’re going so well. We’re almost there, and we’ll be off this plane, and everything will be okay. You’re safe, you’re okay. Everything is okay.” 

It was only now that you’d calmed down a bit more that you could process the past few minutes, or however long the period of time you’d panicked had been. Alexia had known exactly what to do, almost as if she was going through a list in her mind. 

She’d tried to get you to listen to her, to breathe. When that hadn’t worked, she’d put pressure around you, hugging you tightly even as you resisted for a moment. She’d stayed calm herself, keeping her breathing and her voice steady. She’d know just what to say, just what to do, and you’d never been more glad for anything in your entire life. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, pulling away from her slightly so you could reach for your water. Alexia beat you to it, unscrewing the cap and handing you the bottle, though you were still shaking slightly. You chugged a few sips, feeling your face grow redder and redder as you realized how much of a scene you’d probably caused. 

“Of course.” Alexia replied, taking the bottle once you were done and tucking it back into your bag. She draped an arm across your shoulders, giving you a comforting squeeze. And while you were embarrassed, there wasn’t much fight left in you to shake her off, and honestly, you still really needed a hug. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, this time a stray tear sliding down your cheek. You wiped it away impatiently, wishing that Mapi would stop staring at you from across the aisle, and that  Irene would stop turning around to check on you. 

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.” Alexia dismissed. “You had no control over that happening. It just happens sometimes.” 

“Do you have them too?” You wondered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Alexia shook her head, and you felt yourself blush harder. Of course she didn’t. 

“No, my sister does though. And a few teammates.” 

That last part surprised you. “Really? Teammates?” 

“Mhm. Even footballers can have anxiety, cari.” Alexia chuckled, though she frowned when you didn’t laugh with her. “What happened today?”

You found that you couldn’t look her in the eye, shifting out from under her arm and sinking down in your seat. “Panic attack.”

You didn’t need to be looking at her to know that she was giving you a look. “I know that. Why did it happen today? I didn’t even know you had panic attacks.” 

Swallowing roughly, you continued to stare at the seat in front of you. “I ran out of my medicine. I normally take it before flights.” 

Alexia blinked at you. “Before every flight? And you never told me?”

You could hear the hurt in her tone; she’d gone out of her way to be there for you, to be someone you could trust, and now she felt like she’d failed. 

“I wanted to tell you, Ale, I just… I was embarrassed. I shouldn’t be like this, especially not about flying. It’s part of our job. Normally, I have it handled.” 

Alexia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Cariño, you don’t need to be embarrassed about this. It’s not your fault, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I wish you’d told me, because you don’t have to handle this all on your own.” 

“I know, I know.” You sighed. “I’m sorry.” 

Alexia shook her head again, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Don’t be sorry, please. Just know I’m here.” 

You nodded, letting your head rest on your captain’s shoulder. You felt better, definitely, but anxiety still twisted in your stomach. It was better, though, because you knew you weren’t alone. You were never alone with this team, and never alone with Ale around. 

You’d be reminded of this, repeatedly, on the remaining flights around the US. When Mapi threw M&Ms at you across the aisle, trying to see how many you could catch in your mouth. When Irene bought you a stress ball, and Pina made a list of movies she thought you should watch. And when Alexia held your hand through take off and landing, sticking close by you until you were safely back on the ground in Barcelona. A plane ride and your anxiety had nothing on the determination of your captain, and you should have never doubted that. 

-

this is short and i most certainly despise it but it's been a while since i've posted a fic so :) i hope you enjoy and aren't disappointed!

[cravetive]

𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝙸𝚃 𝚁𝙰𝙸𝙽𝚂

☾ ⋆*･ Pairings: Meteorologist! Jin x Fem!reader

☾ ⋆*･ Synopsis: after many failed relationships you find yourself struggling to open up to new connections but once you overhear that your timid colleague Seokjin has a crush on you, you set out to play a game of temptation where somewhere in the process, you come face to face with the sudden realization that the weather is not the only unpredictable thing.

☾ ⋆*･ Warnings: SMUT! workplace/office au, Jin is quiet and innocent until he's not, fingering, oral sex! ( M! receiving ), dirty talk, creampie ( hehe) , teasing, unprotected sex, hair pulling, hardcore, a bit angsty ( im an angst slut leave me alone ) , foreplay , slight dom/sub dynamics, kissing, biting/marking, we will pray Y/n gets her life together.

☾ ⋆*･ Authors note: I wish I could tell you what I've done but this is what my brain produces when I'm on 5 hours of sleep.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ Word count: 10 K ( for what reason?)

-

Ever since you were conscious you would often find yourself lost in the sky - entrained on the sun, the moon, and the stars but most importantly on the weather. Even before you could walk You wondered what caused thunders to ripple through the clouds, worried over the sun that disappeared during rainfall. You were fixated, overly obsessed and it is what had led you to become a research meteorologist and whilst some found the profession to be boring and fruitless (your parents), there was nothing in the world that you loved most then to predict cloudy skies and cold nights. Being able to observe, understand, and therefore explain the earth's atmospheric phenomenons offers you a sense of gratification.

On the other hand you couldn’t say you ran with the same luck when it came to love and relationships, your long list of exes and failed talking stages were enough scientific evidence to prove that. Things just never ended well between you and whoever fate decided to send your way. you could never decipher if it was due to the lack of communication, lack of interest, or a little bit of both that prevented you from harvesting anything solid with those you fell in love with but it always left you high and dry. It wasn’t like you were a hopeless romantic either, yet the instincts you had when it came to forecasting sunny skies were just not there when it came to romance.

To put it bluntly, your relationships just didn’t last and it had brought you to a point where you questioned all your romantic interactions.

How long will this one last? How long until this one ends? Will we see each other in public and turn the other way?

It's why you struggled to get your feelings across most times, it's why you found it almost impossible to tell that certain person who sat across from you at work how he made you feel.

The timid and reserved Junior meteorologist didn’t catch your attention at first, always keeping to himself and rarely participating in any after work activities with your co-workers, which had made it almost impossible for you to even notice him. that was until 3 weeks ago during a mandatory work dinner. Whilst on a small bathroom break you had unintentionally walked into a game of truth and dare between your colleagues where by perhaps fate you had eavesdropped on the confession of that very same drunken man.

You had opted to feign ignorance, slipping back into the table as if nothing had happened all whilst deciding to commence a cruel game against the meek man. You would find yourself teasing him, subtly flirting until his cheeks turned red and his words turned into stutters. At first it was a childish fun ruse but as time progressed you found yourself looking in his direction more often, entranced by his smile and quiet charisma.

You were doomed and yet, it didn’t stop you from taunting him. small winks and little comments of how good he looked in his baseball caps and soft sweaters, causing him to often jolt as a response. It was harmless until it wasn’t, until you started imagining him between your legs, his large and skillful hands wrapped around your neck.

“for fucks sake” Daiyu, your best friend and colleague huffed as she ran towards the entrance, her freshly styled copper hair drenched with rain that poured from the sunny sky. You giggled, closing your umbrella and entering the building, your heels squeaking against the marbled floors. Daiyu followed after you, a trail of curses falling from her mouth whilst her hands frantically wiped at her wet clothes.

“I always tell you to carry an umbrella and you never listen” you sighed.

“It was a 30% chance!” she exclaimed, reaching to frantically press on the elevator button.

“I should sue you guys” Daiyu groaned.

You looked back at her, taking in her flustered and soaked appearance, deciding not to pass further judgment. Daiyu was as stubborn as a bull and anything that you chose to say would just  go  through one ear and out the other anyways. you reached into your purse and grabbed a napkin, extending it out for her to take. She snatched it urgently and dabbed on her face, emitting a groan of frustration at the inconvenience the sky had caused her.

“It was so sunny and warm outside” she complained, which caused you to laugh loudly, both of you stepping into the elevator as the doors slid open.

“Looks can be deceiving Daiyu” you noted, watching as the doors closed in front of you.

Daiyu smirked, disregarding your statement and focusing on the current situation you were in. her mind going back to the late-night conversation you both had shared 2 days ago over wine and expensive cheese. She leaned over closer to you, her eyebrows teasingly raising while you shared a bewildered expression on your face.

“what?” you asked, concerned with her inquisitive glances.

“I guess the same thing can be said about Jin,” Daiyu winked, a hint of excitement in her tone. She goaded you to speak on the subject, but you rolled your eyes in response.

“I bet he is a real beast in the sheets” Daiyu raised her eyebrows.

“Daiyu please, this is not the time or place to have this conversation” you scolded - eyes fixed on the numbers that flashed on the small screen above the elevator panel. 

“I guess you are deceiving - look at you all serious now like you aren't torturing that poor man.”

“Daiyu” your eyes widened and she was lucky you were both alone in the elevator - out of hearing range of any nosy employee’s. 

“I didn’t share that with you so that you can hold it over my head” you snapped, making a quick escape as soon as the elevator doors opened.

“oh come on!” she shouted after you, the sound of her heels echoing inside the office as she chased after you, her arm interlinking with yours when she caught up. you didn’t intend to avoid the topic, in fact you found it relieving to be able to speak to someone freely about it but what Daiyu was trying to indicate with her previous statements were by far completely illogical. 

Jin was but a shy and reserved guy, not the kind that tried to deceive by putting on appearances. 

How else was he able to contain himself by your constant teasing and flirting, if he wasn’t.

“we will talk about this later” you declared, giving her a soft shove towards her desk. Daiyu pouted, providing you a saddened glance whilst reluctantly dragging herself to her desk where she threw herself into her chair in rather dramatic defeat. You giggled at the scene she produced and walked across the room, reaching your own desk.

Seokjin was already there, too focused on the screen in front of him to notice your arrival. You took this time to take in his appearance. the sweater he wore accentuating his biceps and broad shoulders, the pair of glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose causing a pulsation between your thighs - lured by the image of him crawling over you with them on. You cleared your throat quickly, grabbing his attention and interrupting your perverted train of thought.

He glanced up at you, cheeks already turning pink as he took in your presence.

“Good Morning Mr. Kim” you whispered, offering him a smug smile whilst sliding into your chair. It took a moment for him to respond, his eyes briefly falling on the low v neck blouse you decided to wear today (one of your many little tricks of course). His lips parted, a gulp traveling down his throat. He quickly removed his eyes from your accentuated breasts, dragging his attention back to his screen.

“G-good Morning” he stumbled on the phrase, his tone quiet and faint.

you smiled out of satisfaction, unable to suppress the butterflies in your stomach that only he managed to make flutter. Seokjin is sexy in the most subtle ways; he doesn’t even try and yet he could make you squirm in your seat like a schoolgirl. His full lips, his deep intense eyes, and dorky smile kindled a pressure in your lower abdomen that you often tried to conceal by crossing your legs. 

“I like that color on you, you look good” you complimented, offering Jin a small smirk.

Jin glanced down at his sweater, his hands smoothing out the cashmere deep blue material. He had liked the color, had even thought it was a nice sweater when he first picked it out at the store but having its tincture complimented by you now, gave it a new feeling - it felt softer against his skin.

“thank you” he almost muttered.

You nodded happily, bringing your hair into a ponytail as you always did when beginning the day. Jin’s eyes hesitantly trailed your exposed neck, carving out the smoothness of your skin and studying each detail of the necklace that hung there - soon halting at the sight of your lips, a breath hitching in his throat. 

“You like what you see, Mr. Kim?” you asked, your eyes sparking with the realization of his discreet stare.

Jin sat up,your voice startling him out of his daze - his eyes now looking in every direction but yours.

“cause you can see more if you want, you just have to ask” your voice was a mere whisper and Jin could feel every hair in his body stand up from your tone alone. There was a long silence, your eyes intensively studying his composure. He moved his attention back on his computer screen, deciding it would be best to ignore the comment that made his heart run laps inside his chest all together.

“Hey Jin” you called, his eyes quickly moving back to you with hesitation.

“I'm only joking” you lied.

You would've allowed him to see your entire soul if he had just asked.

The day had turned sour rather quickly, the entire office thrown into a frenzy by the threat of an incoming spring storm and it had left you running in circles all throughout the building, your heels beginning to jab into your feet painfully- leaving your soles red and sore. You groaned, stepping into the cafeteria for the first time in the day, finally allowing yourself a small break amidst the hysteria. You needed coffee and you needed it fast. Your heavy eyes scanned the cabinet in search for your favorite mug - propping yourself on your toes for a better view. 

“Where the hell did I put you?” you muttered under your breath, your hands pushing away various mugs in an attempt to find the deep emerald one you always used. Your shoulders ached, weighed down by the tumultuous day and your eyes burned, the result of staring at your computer screen for 4 hours straight. Not finding your mug would be the last straw, the drop of water that would make you spill over. You groaned loudly and leaned against the counter, your hand flying to cover your face in frustration while you balanced from one foot to the other, trying to ease the ache shooting up your legs.

“Are you looking for this?” a quiet and familiar voice asked.

You raised your head slowly, capturing a view of the man standing in front of you, your mug held comfortably in his hand. Exhaustion creeped through your body, leading you to bubble with irrational anger but as you prepared to berate the individual who had seized your precious mug, you took a moment to study their fingers, soon realizing they were the hands you melted over ever so often, concluding who the culprit behind the theft was.

Jin offered you a concerned glance, his profound sepia eyes blinking slowly as if expecting a response. You remained silent, losing yourself in his stare. the ache on your limbs suddenly evaporating for those short seconds, a wave of serenity settling deep inside of you. you shook your head slowly, unable to break eye contact as he made time stop around you.

All urgency to resume your pending tasks halted whilst you stood in front of him - The buzzling in the office growing quiet as your eyes slowly traced his features.

“I can wash it out if you want, I’m done anyways” Jin offered, a small smile forming on his face.

Your attention crawled to his mouth, inspecting his plump and soft lips, lips you wanted to press yours against, lips that were smeared with the cold foam of his coffee, foam you imagined on other parts of his body for you to lick.

“n-no, it's okay” this time it was you who stuttered; it was you who grew flustered.

The room fell silent as you remained stunned by his intense stare, your mind flowing with ideas that were neither appropriate nor sane. You were in deep shit, and you knew it, your heart pressed against your chest begging to jump into the hands of the man standing before you whilst your mind yelled that he was like everyone else, like every guy you had ever met. The one with the soft eyes and quick lies.

“You uh have something” you gestured to his mouth, making him aware of the leftover foam on his lips.

He lowered his head in embarrassment, his hand quickly flying to wipe away at his face. his eyes trailed away from yours, causing you to inhale sharply.

“Did I get it?” he asked, turning back to you. His cheeks still flushed with shame.

You inspected his lips once again, taking in their smoothness and soft pink color, pictured them gracing your skin softly - leaving their imprint on your skin.

“Here I’ll-” you offered, reaching forward and closing the gap between you both. you leisurely wiped away at the top of his lip with your thumb, removing all the residual foam left there. His lips were warm under your touch, your breaths growing short and unruly due to the sensation.

You could feel his stare fixed on you as you aided him, your cheeks becoming rogue at the sudden intimacy of the situation. Jin’s mouth parted as if he had wanted to say something but even if he had you doubted you would have been able to hear him over the hammering of your heart. The euphoric feeling dazed you out of all self restraint - luring you to act upon your intrusive thoughts .

you found yourself losing yourself in the sea of brown that were his eyes again, knowing you could drown and subsequently, dipped your foam covered thumb into your mouth without a second thought.

You collected the sugar that had once rested on his lips on your tongue and allowed it to rest there. A pleasure filled hum echoing from within your chest - your eyes fluttering shut at the satisfaction the fulfillment of your craving caused. You remained stuck there, your brain unable to generate anything but utter bliss. 

“hey! Is there any creamer lef…”

The voice of the intern entering the cafeteria was like cracking thunder, your body jerking as a life vest was being thrown at you, aiding you from going under. Your eyes shot open in realization, body tensing at the action you had just mindlessly committed but Jin didn’t appear to be as startled as you, his eyes firmly held on your lips. It felt like your whole body was on fire and it was only then when you noted the damp fabric of your panties pressed against your clit. 

Both you and Jin turned your heads quickly, eyes landing on the intern who stood shocked by the door, his mouth held ajar. You blinked quickly; your brain unable to register what had just taken place. it was as if everything inside you had been electrocuted and you couldn’t even find the strength to defend yourself against the silent accusation the interns eyes made.

You dreadfully took a step back from Jin, lowering your gaze once he looked back at you - you cleared your throat quickly before stumbling out of the shared space. The sound of your heels leaving echoes inside of Jin’s head.

You had deduced 2 things from that brief encounter. The first being you and Jin were beyond screwed - interns liked to talk, liked to share and gossip didn't take long to spread within the office and secondly, that being alone in a room with Jin was dangerous, far more than you had anticipated.

“Yup, it's been sent to the group chat” Daiyu nodded, pushing a spoon full of yogurt into her mouth.

You sighed, covering your face in agony.

As expected the details of your little encounter with Jin had been shared all throughout the office with the intern taking quite the creative liberty of disclosing details you were sure never happened. You groaned loudly, pushing your food away. 

“Oh god” you whispered, “we work together, you know I can lose my job right?” you stared at her, wide eyed but your friend didn’t join your panic, instead a small giggle escaped her lips and your eyebrows intertwined in confusion.

“Do you find this funny?” you yelled, throwing a balled-up napkin at her head.

“Hey! Let’s use our words” she laughed, causing you to throw your head back in defeat.

“What did you think was going to happen Y/n? Jin is a man and you are a woman - i'm surprised you haven't humped in the janitors closet yet” she mused. 

You pressed your hands against your temples, trying to stop yourself from imagining the both of you doing the mentioned act. 

“Relax, it’s not that bad” she responded, “besides their just rumors, okay?” you knew she was trying to calm you, trying to bring you back from the trepidation you had been succumbing to during the last few days but her words didn’t offer any relief, anxiety running through your entire body quickly and mercilessly.

“you know I almost believed it but then he added that Jin had his hands wrapped around your waist and I had to debunk it” Daiyu shared, swallowing the yogurt in her mouth “cause we both know that boy would simply combust if he even graced his finger tips against your skin.”

You shot bullets in her direction, how was she able to make a joke out of all of this when you were literally falling apart? your job on the line, your reputation. Everything you had worked so hard to get and maintain all down the gutter for a man and Yet, there wasn’t even a hint of regret in your thoughts, in fact the only reason why you were so stressed out in the first place was for the simple fact that you were caught,caught doing something so frivolous and yet the whole office was in an uproar about it.

If you knew you would be at the brink of getting fired over lingering stares and kinship, you would’ve at least given yourself the liberty of kissing him.

“Hey, you are in your head again” Daiyu yelled, snapping her fingers in your face. you blinked in her direction and sighed, turning away once again.

“Can this get any worse?” you complained.

“I think it just might,” Daiyu winced.

You glanced back at her and turned your head in the direction of her widened eyes. The director had stepped into the cafeteria, and he was walking straight to you. you felt your body tremble, your brain preparing for the worst. You quickly stood up, your entire nervous system beginning to shut down.

“Ms. Y/n” he greeted, you stood completely still, unable to bring any air into your lungs as your knees threatened to collapse.

“Mr. Han,” your voice trembled.

Daiyu stood up quickly, putting down her yogurt and offering your boss a 90 degree bow before standing up straight, giving you a panicked glance.

“Ms. Y/n do you have a moment? I would like to go over some things in my office” your heart dropped, your palms clammy. You soon became very aware of every vein in your body, pulsating strongly against your skin.

your throat went dry, sandpaper rubbing against the other as you tried to form a coherent response.

“I uh I – yeah”

He turned quickly without another word, his steps firm and demanding, you followed behind him like a lost puppy, glancing back at Daiyu; your eyes brimmed with tears. she attempted to give you a smile through her concerned expression but even her movements faltered when she offered you a thumbs up. You were screwed, you had gone too far in your little game and now you were facing the consequences.

The walk back to Mr. Han’s office felt eternal, passing coworkers who stared and mumbled amongst each other. You were dragging your feet at this point, your heart plummeting into despair the closer you got to his office. In retrospect you didn’t feel contrition towards the event that had taken place, one does not lament over things they enjoyed but now was not the time for you to ponder on the things you did or didn't regret.

one word from your boss and you would be sent packing with all of your hopes and dreams.

You entered his office quietly, brain swarmed with negative thoughts - predicting the words that would soon empty from his mouth.

‘YOU’RE FIRED’ 

The unspoken yet inevitable words rang inside your ears - tears swelling in your eyes out of mere anticipation. 

You let out a long breath, hoping that for a second it could appease your mind but it was no use, you were a nervous wreck and it was evident by the way your boss stared at you whilst he sat behind his desk. You decided to solve math problems in your head, a method that most times distracted you from distressing situations but as you began to find the answer to your first algebra problem you felt a presence next to you and when you glanced over, your legs buckled.

“please take a seat guys” your boss requested.

You tried to move your limbs, but your feet were stuck to the ground, eyes fixed on Jin whilst he avoided your gaze and pushed out his chair taking a seat as instructed. He didn't greet you as he tended to do nor did he give you one of his famous small introverted smiles you often looked forward to. It was as if you weren’t even there but you were and it was as if he couldn’t care less. 

Ouch…

he was tense, you could see it and It was all your fault. you were fucked, royally fucked. Your shaky hands reached for your own chair, hesitantly slipping next to him.

“I can assume you know why I’ve asked the both of you here” Mr. Han began, your stomach somersaulting painfully. You glanced over at Jin who remained silent, not a speck of anxiousness in his demeanor. Why was he so relaxed? Had he just accepted his fate? Your face contorted with conflict and then turned to face your boss, a long weighed sigh leaving your body.

“I want to apologize, I know that it wasn’t ethical and I assume full responsibility-“ you began rambling, your mouth going painfully dry. your boss stared back at you like you had 3 heads and your voice faded into thin air, further apprehension spreading inside of you.

“Y/n, I can attest you are really good at your job but why are you apologizing for the weather?” Mr. Han chuckled. you blinked slowly, unable to understand his words.

“huh?”

“look, we might be facing a storm soon and I want to send a group of you over to our headquarters in Yeosu, they will be hit the hardest and in all honesty they need all the help they can get”

Relief and embarrassment flow through you as his intentions are made clear. you let out a small nervous giggle struggling with the intrusive desire to slap yourself across the face.

“I can go on my own,” Jin interrupted, and you quickly turned to him. his face cold and expressionless, your stomach dropping once again and all those bad feelings that had previously  swallowed you, began eating at you all over again.

“I'm sure Ms. Y/n  here has a lot of work on her plate and I'm sure I can do most of the work myself.”

His words were rational, made sense even but you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking this was just the aftermath of the rumors that had been spreading. You understood him, being spoken about and stared at when most times all he wanted to do was go about undetected must’ve been uncomfortable, albeit it made your insides twist.

“oh i'm sure you are more than capable but there will be a lot to cover and I just don’t think you’ll be able to manage.”

“Then give me a team, Ms. Y/n can stay here with the others - I'm sure we will need coverage here too” Jin insisted. you couldn’t bring yourself to protest. It was probably the best idea. You didn’t want any more rumors to spread about the two of you, not when it made Jin treat you like this. The game was over - no longer did you find amusement in your actions, instead you started to regret toying with him in the first place. it was immature on your part and you wanted nothing more than to apologize for your childish ways.

“I can understand your consideration of Ms. Y/n but it wasn’t a request” Mr. Han stated, causing chills to go down your spine.

“the train tickets have been purchased, you will be departing tomorrow morning” your boss concluded.

Jin stood up first, walking out of the room without another word. You followed behind quickly, your head spinning in circles as you tried catching up to him. 

“Jin” you called, but he kept his pace - not bothering to look back at you.

“Jin” you repeated, your voice much louder this time. 

His steps slowed, a sigh falling from his lips before he turned to look at you - you couldn't make out the stare he held once his eyes met with yours but it made you feel like shit. This entire ordeal was making you question the kind of person you were and for the first time since you had begun playing mind games with the man, you had realized how fucked this entire thing was. 

“How can i help you Ms. Y/n” his tone had always been reserved but this time it was different - you could feel the chill from a mile away. 

“I just wanted to say I'm sorry” you breathed. 

“Okay” he answered. 

“Okay?” you questioned, taken aback by his response. 

“Okay” Jin reaffirmed before he spun around and left you standing alone and confused in the empty hallway. 

The train ride had been 3 long painful hours and even though all your colleagues had slept peacefully, including Daiyu who snored into your ear the entire trip you hadn’t been able to stop thinking of Jin. He avoided you like the plague the entire way to Yeosu. Putting on his headphones when it was only the two of you awake, making sure he was the first to exit the train once it arrived, and when you entered the shared home you and your colleagues would be staying in for the longevity of the trip, he intentionally chose the room furthest away from yours.

You decided to just let the situation be, there wasn’t anything you could do now and besides, it didn’t appear like he even wanted an apology. Maybe, seeking him out would only make things worse.

“Have you talked to him?” Daiyu asked, setting up a small satellite on the ground to assist the tracking of the storm.

“no” you muttered, writing down notes in your notepad “and quite frankly I don’t intend to Daiyu.”

“oh come on, we will be here for 2 more days and you guys are just gonna what? Pretend the other is not there? It's making me and everyone else uncomfortable” she complained.

“And what other options do I have? I tried to apologize but he just said okay, like what even is that? okay?!” you huffed with frustration.

“he even stayed in when we said we would go out for drinks” you whisper, the topic alone distracting you from the data you were collecting. The memory caused an ache in your chest, an ache that you didn’t like. It was a faint soreness that had accompanied you many times before, during nights of heartache and rejection, so imperceptible yet debilitating.

“The kid likes you, we know he likes you, you know he likes you, and you like him” Daiyu shrugs “why are you dragging this?” her tone was annoyed but she held a smile on her face.

“it's more complicated than that and you know that” you responded, rolling your eyes.

“ugh whatever keep eye fucking him for all I care” Daiyu groaned.

“Are you all done here? I'll wait in the car” you yelled, taking quick steps away from Daiyu.

“hey! We need to make sure it's stable!” Daiyu yelled out but you ignored her, pretending to be too far to hear her curses.

As predicted the storm had arrived ferociously. Wind ripping through the city, rain pouring harshly - turning the sky opaque. Your dry and pained eyes stared at the computer screen in front of you as you wrote yet another report, racing against mother nature in an attempt to keep up with the current weather. You hadn’t slept in the last 24 hours and the toll it had left was visible. The only thing keeping you awake being the loud crackles of thunder tearing into the sky. 

You had been locked in your room all day and you had no intentions on stepping out.

The rest of the group with the exception of Jin had left to track the storm, giving you hourly updates on the current situation and the damage the storm was leaving in its path. Knowing you were alone with him in the same house left an anxious haze in your system.

You allowed your eyes to flutter shut for a few seconds, giving them some moisture but your mind wandered to another place, drifting deeper into your consciousness - within the darkness of your tightly shut eyes you envisioned Jin’s capable hands. touching, roaming, rubbing. You retracted the image of his mouth, of his tongue. Sliding, licking, pulling. And then there it was, the pooling between your thighs, the pressure under your navel.

Your eyes opened quickly as another thunder rolled through the sky, bright lights seeping through your half-opened blinds, dragging you away from your salacious contemplations.

You needed to clear your mind, to provide your brain another task to focus on before it began to rot. An impulse surged through you, your body rising from the chair it had made a home out of and stepping out into the dark house. What was the worst that could happen? For Jin to ignore you? He was already doing that anyway.

Your steps were soft as you made your way to the kitchen, a cup of chamomile tea sounding delicious at the moment, it would help you fall asleep and above all it would shake away the anxiousness that gripped you. your mouth watered with the idea. 

Aside from the small creaks the foundation of the old home made against the strong wind outside- everything else was completely silent. The gray evening sky offering the only source of light throughout the space.

You reached into the coverts and pulled out a kettle, which you filled with water and set on the stove to boil. Your eyes wandered out the window, concerned with the raging weather that apparently had no intentions on stopping. You were worried for your team, hoping they had found shelter, and you were also worried about running into Jin. all the bravery you had suddenly found in those short seconds when you first decided to leave your room quickly fading away. you blinked slowly, trying to rid yourself of the exhaustion pressing on your body.

 You made mental plans of a warm shower and then finally some rest, if the thunder allowed it.

If your Jin ridened brain would allow it.

There was another crackle in the sky and then the sliding door in the dining room opened and slammed shut, your whole nervous system jolting as a loud scream escaped your mouth. you turned your head to access the damage the wind had probably caused but your made out a figure standing by the door. A drenched, heaving figure. You blinked rapidly, ensuring it wasn’t your imagination and once your brain awakened from its internal slumber you realized that the person standing there, dripping wet from head to toe was Jin.

“Jin?” you exclaimed “are you okay?”

Your feet moved quickly towards him, mind racing with weariness at the sight of him. His presence left a puddle on the floor, his rain slicked black hair stuck to his forehead. He nodded slightly, wanting to avoid further questioning. You reached into the closet nearby and pulled out a clean towel. 

He was shivering, mouth trembling as he stood there in complete silence.

“What were you doing outside? It's dangerous out there” your voice was stern, but you weren’t trying to reprimand him. Jin was a grown man, and you were sure he was aware of the current climate.

“I had forgotten my camera” he simply explained, holding up the canon T7 camera for you to see.

“Gosh, let me help you” you sighed, taking fast steps towards him. your mind was racing with ways you could help him, concerned with his well-being however once you were closer, all those thoughts stopped – paused by the view in front of you. Jin’s black t-shirt was glued to his body, the imprint of his torso visible through the wet material. His face dripped droplets of water as he stared at you with those eyes that you habitually melted over and you weren’t sure if it was due to the rain outside, but his skin appeared to glisten, accentuating the veins that crawled down his forearms and down his hands.

This wasn’t the time to look, to peer like you often did, not a moment to tease but your eyes couldn’t help trail down to his sweats that now due to the weight of the water they had absorbed sat just below his waist, his underwear peeking above them.

You cleared your throat, attempting to remain focused whilst your hands tended to the shivering man in front of you but once the towel touched his skin, his hand came up to grip yours. You looked up at him quickly, your brows knitting with concern. His eyes pierced through you and you recalled the reason why the both of you hadn’t spoken this entire time, remembered the way he had avoided you at all costs.

“don’t do that” his tone was low, a heaviness within it that you had never heard him use before.

“do what?” yours quivered, a crack forming at the last word.

“don’t provoke me,” Jin stated.

The ache returned inside your chest, the one that you hated so much and you felt weak. Your eyes faltered, blinking away from his gaze with a heavy sigh.

“Jin, I want to apologize again, I shouldn’t have-“ you began, unable to recognize the softness in your words - a knot embedding itself in your trachea.

“What are you apologizing for?” his expression was that of confusion and you felt intimidated. The question leaves you disoriented.

“what?” you asked.

“you shouldn’t apologize if you aren’t sorry.”

“but I am” you stood on those words, truly feeling culpable of the situation you had created due to your lack of self control, due to your habit of complicating things but Jin’s words held different meaning which you had missed due to your lack of sleep,or perhaps it was because you couldn’t concentrate on anything else besides the bulge that pressed against his drenched sweats.

 Jin was teasing you.

He stepped closer, his chest now mere inches from yours. His towering build caused you to become very aware of how tall he really was, you didn’t speak another word as the room suddenly shrunk 3 sizes, your breath trapped inside of your rib cages.

“I take pride in the kind of man that I am” he muttered, leaning his face towards yours. “im respectful – a well mannered man” Jin’s eyes trailed down to your lips and he watched them intently as they parted slightly. 

“I am a civil man” he whispered, his hand rising to caress the skin of your cheek softly - erupting goosebumps everywhere inside of you. the shy and concealed man you had come to know had disappeared, leaving no traces of innocence – his stare flickering with lust. His thumb smoothed over your mouth and you could feel your heart rumble within your chest, your body trembling with each outlet of air.

“but you continue to toy with me, you appear in my dreams where I find myself doing the most indecent things to you” the confession made you lean into his touch, the realization of how good his hand felt pressed against your cheek eliminating all hesitation “it makes me question what a gracious man like me can do.”

“Jin” you trembled, body running feverishly warm as you bore into his eyes.

His hand traveled to the back of your head, his fingers intertwining with strands of your hair and he pulled, firmly but yet not hard enough to cause pain – your mouth opened as a whine traveled through your throat but before it could escape; his lips landed on yours.

 his tongue twisting away the small complaint.

It felt like a dream, like it wasn't real and for a second you wanted to pinch yourself – you wanted your alarm to go off so that you could wake up because it felt too real and dreams like these often brought you utter disappointment. Jin ran his hands against your body, his cold touch leaving a tingling sensation in its wake.

You could feel your arousal dripping against your panties, the exhilaration of his mouth and hands on you leaving your mind hazed. Jin’s hand trailed under your tank top, his fingers gracing your stomach as they dragged themselves towards your breast, your small whimpers pouring into his ravenous mouth. His hand went under your bra where his fingers found your nipples, rubbing them lightly. your body leaning into his as a consequence. You both stood so close now and yet, it didn’t feel like enough.

You wanted to melt into him, wanted to feel him everywhere all at once – until you couldn't breath, until you were louder than the storm outside.

Small moans left your lips, urging him to lose all control and you could tell he was reaching his breaking point when his hips jerked forward, his erection pressing against your thigh. You leaned away from his lips, eyes meeting at the sudden action. You tugged at his drenched t-shirt and he allowed you to remove it, lifting his arms up in the air. Your eyes trailed his skin as you exposed it, inch by inch.

He was gorgeous, not a trace of imperfections on his soft pale skin – his shoulders were so broad and you pictured your legs stretched over them, giving him full access to the part that pulsed sorely in-between your thighs.

His hand reached for your hair once again, pulling your head back - his tongue traveling up the valley of your neck. your eyes fluttered shut, mouth releasing short sighs as he bit and nibbled on the tender skin. You felt like your skin was on fire, cheeks burning due to the lack of oxygen his mouth was causing. It was a  high you wanted to be in at all times.

 you had misread Jin entirely. This man was capable of destroying you, the evidence in the way your body trembled under his attention.

His hand slipped from under your shirt, finding the hem of your pajama pants and guiding his hand inside. Your mouth falling completely open once his slender fingers reach your clit, quivering in anticipation. He palmed you through your panties slowly, allowing your wetness to spread across the crutch of your panties.

“mhmm so warm” Jin groaned almost painfully.

He licked his lips as he stared into your eyes, darkness enveloping them the longer his hand remained inside of your pants, you knew you were completely fucked, he had you right where he wanted you.

 a thought arises from within the deepest part of your mind that perhaps, he was the one toying with you all this time. testing how far you would go to bring him to this point.

“Jin” you moaned “I want to uh.”

“What do you want to do?” he asked, arching his brow at your broken request.

You couldn’t concentrate but you were sure of what you wanted, of what you wanted to do to him. you reached forward, your hand finding his rock hard dick - giving it a slow pump. It quivered under your touch, urging you for more. Small groans fell out Jin’s mouth, the hand intertwined with your hair pulling back a bit harder.

Your eyes pleaded out to him -  slowly sinking on your knees. your stare never breaks with Jin. You wanted to look at him while you snatched his soul away, you had imagined this moment so many times and now that it was finally here, presented to you in a silver platter your mouth salivated. You slowly pushed down his sweats and then his boxers, his erection springing out, standing tall in front of you.

Your willing tongue unraveled from your mouth, holding his delicate length in your hand as you slid your tongue up his shaft, spreading your saliva against the pulsing vein there. Your deep breaths cascades over his tip, his cock twitching against your tongue in anticipation. Jin watched  through hooded eyes, unable to blink away from your position under him.

“Ah fuck” he groaned. 

You looked so pretty, so dirty – he could cum from the sight alone.

Your tongue glided towards his tip, your damp muscle collecting all the pre-cum that sat on his slit, the salty taste making your clit pulsate. Your tongue slipped back and forth and then you felt it, his whole body trembling at the pleasure you were drawing out with just your mouth and you let out a moan, one that you couldn’t withhold because god did he look ethereal from this angle.

You eased his head into your mouth, eyes wide open looking up at him – your cheeks hollowing as you began to slowly bob your head, allowing him to catch his breath whilst your tongue glided around his thickness. Hisses streamed out of him, the sensation of your warm mouth wrapped around him leading him to throw his head back in pleasure.

Your saliva allowed you to take in more of him – feeling his cock reach the back of your throat, tickling your tonsils. you began moving your head faster, your hand reaching to pump the length that your mouth couldn’t take, the other slipping inside of your pajamas, your fingers rubbing against your folds and dipping inside of your warm walls.

His hand reached down, gripping your hair again and you noticed it was something he liked to do but you didn’t mind – the small pang of discomfort causing moans to vibrate against his dick. Jin’s hips started to move into your willing mouth, drool dripping down your chin as you continued your quick tempo – the sound of his drenched cock dipping in and out of your mouth echoing inside of the dining area along with the sound of your gagging. 

Your eyes burned, tears brimming at the corners but you didn’t dare to look away as he looked down at you, he appeared so sexy whilst in heat, the thought that it was you doing this to him causing your fingers to move quicker inside of you, your arousal gliding down your hands. 

“Y/n” Jin moaned.

You removed your hand from his shaft and took in the rest of him, you could feel your throat begin to burn but you didn’t care – your need to have his entire length in your mouth overpowering even your need for air. Your head bobbed up and down, waiting for him to come undone in your mouth but his hand pulled back on your head, causing his cock to slide out of your mouth with a loud pop.

“That's not where I want to come,” he groaned, his chest rising and falling with each harsh breath he took. 

He glided his thumb against your pulsing red lips, collecting the drool that remained on your chin. You whimpered, your own thumb pressing against your clit - fucking yourself to the sight of him. He carried a dark ardor, a look in his eyes that you had never witnessed before or perhaps never noticed. 

In one swift movement you were off the floor, Jin placed you on the kitchen counter - his tongue once again sliding down the nape of your neck dragging out small moans from your mouth. He was experienced, his mouth and hands knowing where to touch and tug as if he had studied your entire anatomy and you let him, falling into the bliss of all your lust filled dreams. 

His mouth found yours, his lips blending against your own with rapid appetite. His hands traveled to your waist, moving his fingers in between the skin and the hem of your pants and with one pull - he brought down your pajamas and dampened panties. You yelped as the cold air hit your hot clit - begging for his touch. He pulled away from your kiss - bringing his pointer and index finger into his mouth and coating the digits with his saliva - his eyes fixed on yours. 

Your body shivered, as you watched him preparing himself to completely wreck you and not a word of objection leaves your mouth, entranced with how sexy he makes it all look. He’s a professional and you had been too cocky to ever realize that. He pressed his fingers against your throbbing pussy, your hips jerking forward at the sensation. His fingers are long and warm against your cunt and you want nothing more than to have them inside of you. 

“Shhh relax” Jin hummed, rubbing your clit in small slow circles. 

Your breath trembled, mouth falling open as he teased your needy cunt - a smirk forming on his lips. Your touch deprivation didn't go unnoticed to the man standing in front of you. Your back arching into his teasing contact. He leaned forward and left wet kisses on your chest, trails of love bites and saliva as  he reached your breast and then his fingers began to move faster - his mouth taking one of your nipples into his mouth with ease. 

“Jin” you whimpered. He was everywhere all at once and your body shook, he was too much and yet you were capable of taking it all. 

His tongue went flat against your hardened nub, gliding it up and down and then sucking on the nipple softly, your hands tangled themselves in his hair, your legs shaking as he slid one finger into your welcoming cunt and then another, and then another and soon he began pumping them quickly, holding no mercy. 

Your hips matched his tempo and your breast begin to bounce as fucked yourself into his hand. Jin pulled away from your breast - not wanting to miss how much of a slut you had become for him. Your eyes were completely shut - allowing the feeling to take over you completely and you were a wreck but you couldn’t control your hips as they rolled against his appendages. Jin groaned at the sight of you, of your Pretty cunt taking all 3 of his fingers. 

“Look at you, you love this don’t you” he muttered into your ears, his forehead pressed into your cheek as he looked down at his fingers disappearing into your cunt, glistening with your juices - leaving a small puddle on the counter. 

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked but you remained silent, whimpers replacing the answer you wanted to give. 

“Mhm?” Jin urged you, wanting to hear you beg for him. 

“Y-yes” you stuttered. 

“Look who's stuttering now” he mocked and your eyes open, gleaming with lust. 

Jin slowly retracted his fingers from where they had remained, embedded inside of you, the action making you whine in desperation which made Jin smile in response - you were needy, no longer in control and Jin felt his dick quiver at the realization. He looked deep into eyes as he stood in front of you. he raised his hand and spit into his palm proceeding to lather up your already dripping cunt. You could feel his saliva coat your clit, the feeling causing your whole body to tremble. 

He leaned back in for a kiss, slowly pressing you back into the counter until you could only see the ceiling above you. His hands slid up your thighs and with one swift movement he brought your ass to the end of the counter, your legs now placed exactly where you had wanted them to be for so long, where you thought they would look their best, thrown over his shoulders. 

“You look so good like this” he groaned, his eyes scanning your half naked body. 

You could hear the loud whistling of the tea kettle on the stove consume the entire room, creating a symphony with the moans that rattled from your lungs and then Jin sank into you, with so much ease, so smoothly that for the next few seconds you couldn't breath. 

Jin’s hands rubbed along your legs, his hips starting to roll into you with swift and disposed movements. You could feel all of him, the pulsations of his cock as he slowly retracted and then easily slipped back inside. The way the tip of his cock reached your ovaries, your legs quivering out of reflex. 

“Jin” you cried out and you lost it, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he snapped his waist, pounding into you with so much speed that the counter underneath you began to shake, Jin’s hand flied to your tank top, gripping it in his hand -  pulling at the fabric with each thrust that he gave you. 

“Is this what you wanted me to do all this time?” he questioned, bringing his thumb against your clit. 

“Y-yes” you yelped. 

“Fuck Y/n” he moaned breathlessly and the thunder outside was no match for the sound of your greedy wet cunt taking his entire length, your loud yelps and moans masking the natural disaster taking place. 

Your ass bounced against his thighs each time he slammed into you and he was frantic, your warm walls smothering his aching cock as he plunged into you with so much need and desire you could feel your clit swell around him. As you peered down at him there wasn’t a trace left of the shy boy you once knew. His eyes darkened, glazed over as he stared at his dick stretching out your walls. His teeth biting down onto his lip harshly in a foolish attempt to refrain from the grunts that vibrated from his chest. 

His fingers rubbed quickly over your flustered clit, it was as if he already knew what you needed before you said it, he had you down to a science and you couldn’t stop your body from convulsing, your cunt squeezing around him as a signal of your incoming orgasm. 

“Jin i’m gonna-” you yelp out, this orgasm was different from the ones you would give yourself to the thought of him, pressure beginning to form dangerously in your core. 

“Shhhh i know princess relax” he hummed like an expert only would. 

Your legs fell from his shoulders and his hands received them quickly, holding them wide open. The view of your pussy taking him to the hilt  urging him to flutter in pleasure but he didn’t want to look away - he didn’t want to miss a beat, not when it had been everything he’s dreamed of and more. 

You looked so perfect, felt so perfect and whilst he fought the utter pleasure surging through him, that left him completely spent he could feel your cunt constricting around his cock, his hips faltering at the sudden tightness that enveloped him. 

“Ahh ahh” Jin yelped. 

 With loud moans you came undone, your body tensing and muscle restricting - eyes brimming with tears and just as fast, you felt every cell inside of you ease, like a shot of anesthesia, body and mind going completely blank. Moments later Jin shoots streams of his warm nectar into your walls, filling up every ridge, his milk oozing out as he retracts his hips slowly, careful as to not disturb your high. 

By the time the morning crept into the city of Yeosu, the storm had subsided - superseded by the bright sun that now shined directly in your face. You concluded that the sky had made it its goal to not allow you peaceful slumber these past few days. Denying you the pleasures of rest. You had been awake for a few minutes now but you had been reluctant to open your eyes, focusing on the feeling of the soft comforter wrapped around your nude body. 

Perhaps you were just really tired but the truth was that you just didn’t want to recognize the body that laid next to you, soft snores flowing past their lips, their face nestled into the crook of your neck. 

If you opened your eyes then it would all come to an end, the feeling of his arm wrapped around your waist, the feeling of his weight besides you. Yet, you knew it couldn't last forever and although neither of you had shared any words regarding the events that took place last evening, or the other things that happened after that, you concluded it would all end the same way it usually did. 

You weren’t unfamiliar to awkward goodbyes when the sexual tension dissipated and though inside you wanted to hold onto the hope that maybe this time it would be different, that Jin wasn't like that - you were aware of the inevitable. 

Your eyes blinked open with a soft hiss and for a moment you were blinded by a ray of sunshine gleaming on your face - you raised one of your arms, blocking away the light and carefully turned to glance over at the sleeping man beside you. Jin was sound asleep and you could tell how completely at ease he was in contrast to your nerves that rattled you out of your very needed and desired slumber. 

You didn’t want to leave, didn’t want him to wake up to an empty bed but you knew it would only be harder if you were to leave whilst he was awake, you knew he would attempt to sooth the rejection that was approaching. 

You carefully lifted his arm from around your waist, sliding inch by inch out of the comforter you both shared. Your eyes remained on his resting form, his lips slightly parted and his disheveled silky black locks sprawled on the pillow underneath his head - he looked angelic and your heart lurched at the sight. 

You contemplated if you should’ve stayed, if you could allow yourself a bit of cruelty in exchange for comfort but you had been down that road many times before and at last you made up your mind. Your eyes moved to scan the floor, trying to find the article of clothing you wore the day before but they are nowhere to be found. 

“Shit” you whispered. 

Scenes of the previous day flashed through your mind like a silent film, replaying the lust filled moments you both shared - your bodies intertwining in nearly every room of the vacant home until you found shelter under his bed sheets. His moans and whimpers forever embedded into your memory causing your legs to quiver as you stood disoriented in his room. 

You had left your clothing sprawled in different corners of the house - evidence left for your colleagues to find upon their arrival. 

Jin’s body twists and turns and grumbles fall from his lips, shifting you into overdrive. your hands quickly picked up one of his t-shirts that had been thrown across the floor. You slipped the fabric over your head - being suddenly hit with his scent, guilty adrenaline soaring through you. 

You slowly moved towards the door, your steps careful and calculated as you attempted to escape the room like a foolish thief. Your hands reached for the doorknob, wincing as the door creaked under your touch, cursing at the old house for exposing you in such a dire situation. 

“I thought i had at least 5 more minutes” Jin’s raspy voice echoed inside of the silence you so badly tried to keep. 

Your body froze - heart thumping inside of your chest at a faster rate than before. You shut your eyes as a grimace took over your expression - you had been caught, red handed. You tried to come up with an excuse, in order to lessen the blow but nothing came to mind and as you turned you gave him the words you had heard oh so many times before. 

“Sorry, i didn't want to wake you” the words left a pungent aftertaste in your mouth as you spoke them. 

Jin was sitting amongst the mess of comforter and sheets you both had made, his bare chest gleaming with the light that ripped through the windows - his hand reaching to rub his puffy eyes, a long exhausted sigh leaving his lips. 

“It's too early for you to lie and honestly, I'm too tired to believe it.”

You blinked quickly, his statement throwing you off balance. His tone did not hold any anger or frustration - he sounded disappointed. He was a reflection of you this time and now you were the one having to seek for poor excuses regarding your sudden departure. 

“Jin I-” you tried to speak but your words were cut off by silence, a boulder sitting comfortably against your throat. 

Jin shifted from his sitting position - his eyes focused on your messy hair and on his favorite t-shirt that hung loosely around your frame. 

“You are always close but yet, so out of reach Y/n” Jin states “as open as you appear to be you hold your doors so tightly that your hands grow blisters.” he didn’t intend to be harsh - in fact his words are only a demonstration of how deeply he had come to know you but you couldn’t control the bitter sensation they left inside of you. 

“I didn't mean to- '' you began but couldn’t finish, swallowing down your justifications. 

“I can predict the weather for the next 2 weeks but not what you will do next” he chuckled and your lips quivered at the reality of what he was saying, of the truths that he knew and threw at you without hesitation. 

“I just don't want to mess things up - not this time around Jin, not with you” your mouth grew dry, your eyes glistening with tears that you didn’t want to let out. 

“That’s not a decision you can make on your own,” Jin retorted. 

“Jin, i've been here before so many times - i don't want it to be you running out of my life this time, the thought alone is unbearable and i know we don't know each other like that but i don't want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, you are a really nice guy” you don’t breath between your words, your lungs constricting as you give him your reasons in fear that he won't understand. 

“Well I'm not the one sneaking out of the room, am i?” 

Jin’s stare was sharp and you fidgeted under it - your mind attempting to find other logical reasons why whatever it is you both shared ultimately would come crashing down in the most vile kind of way. 

“What if you grow tired of me?” you whispered, eyes looking away from his. 

“I like coffee” he jokes and this time you smile. 

“I'm being serious!” you whine, your brows knitting with the conflicting debate that expands in your head. 

“Y/n, i am a grown man” Jin smirks “and not the kind that plays silly little games.”

Your eyes snap in his direction - a pang of guilt shooting through you. 

“Yeah i’m sorry about that too” you mutter, your cheeks growing flushed in embarrassment. 

“Are you?” Jin raises his eyebrow, a small smile appearing on his cheeks.

“Stop apologizing and come here.”

It doesn't take a second longer before you swiftly remove his t-shirt from your body - making a mental note to remind him that it belongs to you now. the insignificant object becoming one of the first things he will let you keep without hesitation because this man, the one who you decorate with kisses - the one that has entered your atmosphere at high speeds and at an unknown trajectory will never be like the others.

© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[comphy-and-cozy]

down bad - mat barzal

Pairing: Mat Barzal x unnamed OFC

Summary: Mat takes a late night booty call to the next level.

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY): Unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), creampie. Mega simp Mat. This has barely any plot but has potential to expand into a universe, maybe? Masterlist

The Snapchat notification brightens the screen for a few moments, catching Mat’s eye even while he focuses on shooting down his opponent on-screen. Beau shouts a warning in his ear, and Mat emits a low curse when he gets sniped from behind. 

After one more round, and after bidding goodbye to his friend, Mat’s attention draws back to his phone sitting on the table beside him, tapping to see who the Snapchat was from. His jaw pulses, just slightly, when he sees the name attached to the notification. Instinctually, he feels a gentle throb below the waistband of his gray sweatpants, just at the mere sight of her name.

The photo isn’t set to a timer, and Mat sends a silent thank you to the higher powers that he gets to gaze at it for as long as he desires. The foggy mirror is what he notices first, eyes quickly drawing to the generous cleavage exposed underneath the loosely-wrapped towel, a sliver of delicious skin dragging his eyes down to where the countertop regrettably cuts off the view he would have—of hip bones, leading his eyes down to the apex of two thighs he desperately wants to splay open.

There’s no caption, no commentary needed; the message is loud and clear. A calling that he responds to without fail despite his every effort to remain the nonchalant, professional athlete playboy. Obedient and eager, it’s almost Pavlovian the way his senses kick into gear when her messages come through.

Some might call him whipped, but he prefers the term ‘infatuated.’ He has been, ever since he got that first mirror selfie showing off generous curves clad in Calvin Klein underwear. He’d never admit it outside of the privacy of messages that disappear in 24 hours, but he had never come as hard as he did that night, hand gripping his length while his mind was flooded with images of that body, of those gorgeous lips, of the hips that looked like they were made for his hands.

Mat swipes through the photos he’s saved from her texts, for his eyes only. They’re more private, more sacred; selfies in bathroom mirrors with her top pulled down, videos showing a few specific details of her slutty nurse Halloween costume, and his favorite: his girl, perched on the edge of her bed, a Barzal jersey bunched up around her hips and revealing a gratuitous shot of her ass in a deep blue thong. 

When he first matched with her on Raya, he never anticipated that he’d meet up with her, let alone see her multiple times after that.  A free night in Chicago before a game, he was lying in the hotel room bed in search of his evening plans, in need of a good release. It was her eyes that drew him in first; the same eyes he stared into while she took him in her mouth later that evening. After finding heaven between her legs and climaxing so hard he saw stars, he told her he’d call her the next time he was in Chicago—and he meant it.

Since then, he returns dutifully to her bed when the Isles come to town, and he leaves the door unlocked for her when she travels to New York City for client visits as a CPA (hot and smart; a lethal combination). It’s become an excellent arrangement, the distance far enough to keep things casual, though on nights like tonight, when all he wants is to be buried inside her, he really wishes she was much closer. 

Mat’s attention snaps back to his phone when he sees another notification come through with her name on it, and this time, the dark purple square has his heart fluttering. Clicking into the video, his heart leaps into his throat when he sees the same shot as earlier, only this time, she lets her hand slip so the white towel sags against her body. He’s practically panting, eyes glued to the way she teases him, until she drops the towel altogether.

He’s hard in an instant, flipping back to his Snapchat app to send a photo back of his sweatpant-covered erection.

‘Wish you were here,’ comes her reply. ‘In the mood to get railed.’

Swallowing thickly, Mat feels the twitch against his pelvis. He lets his mind draw back to the last time he saw her; thinking about the feeling of her perfect, wet heat gripping onto him, the way she moaned his name in his ear. He hadn’t gotten more than a few hours with her, hadn’t spent enough time buried between her thighs and worshiping her the way she deserved. The way he craved to. Now, with his last trip to Chicago complete and tax season in the books, he doesn’t know the next time he’ll see her—this fall, at the earliest.

The thought flits through his mind out of nowhere. He considers it for a millisecond, then with a blink, laughs it off. Fly to see her? Tonight?

No, that would be wild, though. It’d be insane.

But you have an off-day tomorrow. You could be back before anyone would notice you’re gone.

Mat shakes his head, pushing away the impulse. He opens his phone, hoping to distract himself by scrolling on Instagram. But the thought doesn’t go away; instead, it patiently nudges at the corner of his brain, lingering until he grants it his full attention. His dick twitches again, as if it knows he’s only a few steps removed from being inside her.

A glance at the airline app can’t hurt, he thinks. Just to see if it’s even a realistic possibility.

He isn’t sure what he’s hoping to see when he opens the Delta app—the perfect timed flight, or a flight that doesn’t work with his schedule. A quick search confirms the former, and he can’t help but laugh out loud at the situation he’s found himself in. Mat shakes his head, the reality of his decision sinking in: are you really about to do this?

He texts her, hoping the distinction of message type symbolizes that he’s serious. The response comes a few minutes later, and he lets out an audible groan when he sees that she’s naked, an arm draped across her breasts seductively. The caption comes next: ‘This is what’s waiting for you if you do decide to come.’

Twenty minutes later, he’s pulling on a baseball cap as he shuts and locks his apartment door, small duffel bag in hand.

Once the Uber drops him off, he briefly notes that it’s strange to be using the public entrance, used to the special business aviation sector that the team used for travel. He could’ve taken a private jet, if he really wanted, but purchasing a commercial ticket was both quicker and easier. And much, much less embarrassing.

He’s halfway through the security line when the reality of what he’s about to do hits him, and he can’t help but laugh at himself. Purchasing and boarding a flight within an hour—for a booty call. Talk about impulsive. And desperate.

The question of ‘why?’ briefly flits through his mind, contemplating his life choices. But then his mind trails to those gorgeous lips, pressed against his mouth, his neck, his—

“Sir, may I please have your ID?”

Mat blinks, coming back to reality, embarrassed that he let his imagination run wild in the middle of the fucking airport. As he pulls his wallet out of his pocket, he does his best to subtly adjust the half-hard erection threatening to make an appearance, smiling innocently at the TSA agent.

If he’s recognized by anyone, no one says anything, though he keeps his head down as he finds his way to his gate. ‘Chicago’ lines the monitor, the flight number and departure times floating across the bottom of the screen. Her last text buzzes in his pocket once he takes a seat, duffel bag seated on the floor by his feet.

The text is actually a photo that has him slapping the face of his phone against his leg, glancing around to make sure no one near him is in sight of his screen. Once he’s sure he’s in safe territory, he sneaks a glance at it again, thirsty for another peek of her completely nude body, a sizable pink dildo pressed against her pouty lips.

Hurry up, the message reads. I’m getting impatient.

Mat hopes nobody notices the way he twitches beneath the dark fabric of his joggers, willing his erection to chill the fuck out as he gets in line to board the plane. 

When he lands 3 hours later, Mat’s knee bounces anxiously as he glances out to watch the plane make its way down the tarmac. A quick check on his Maps app tells him he isn’t far from her apartment, and he sends a silent prayer that he can get deplaned quickly. 

Waiting is excruciating, and he already has the Uber app loaded as he exits the plane, a ride called by the time he steps off of the jet bridge. Mat’s footsteps quicken when he sees the signs pointing toward baggage claim, and it isn’t long until he’s getting into a red Toyota Camry, his driver, Todd, greeting him from the front seat.

‘The door is unlocked,’ her text read. ‘I’m in the bedroom.’

The lights are off when he enters, though the light over the sink illuminates the small kitchen just enough for him to toe his shoes off and head toward the bedroom door. Mat’s heart thuds in his chest as he nears it, nears her, fingers itching to caress every inch of her body. His dick gives another wanton pulse, like it knows its wait is almost over. 

What he sees when he opens the door has him speechless—and that’s hard to do to Mat Barzal. 

The room is dark save for the small string of fairy lights by her window and a sandalwood candle burning on the bedside table. Flickering candlelight casts a warm glow over the room, dancing on the panoramic photo of Wrigley Field on the wall across from her bed.

But Mat isn’t looking at any of that. 

Instead, his eyes are locked on his girl, lying on the bed, gazing straight at him. She’s completely naked, save for the very sheer black lace kimono, untied in the front, revealing her bareness to him entirely. Her legs are spread in a way that he has the perfect view. The warmth of the candle makes her skin look like it’s glowing, soft and golden and delicious.

This time, his dick doesn’t just twitch. It throbs. 

He thinks he might’ve let out a whimper, dropping his bag on the floor; his body moves of its own accord, approaching her bed and immediately slotting between her legs. His lips are on hers before he even realizes it, unable to deny the yearning to feel her touch any longer.

“Hi,” he murmurs against her mouth. She giggles, lips curling into a smile against his own. “Missed you.”

Her reply is a hum, hands carding through his hair, hat knocked on the floor. His lips suck, lick, and nip their way over her jaw and to the place he can feel her pulse against his lips. Mat likes the way she shivers when his breath skitters over her skin, body shuddering at the sensation. 

“Can’t believe you’re actually here,” she breathes, drawing his lips back up to hers for a heated kiss. The pressure mounts, his tongue desperately seeking out the seam of her mouth; involuntarily, his hips begin a slow grind, pressed right against her bare heat. There’s no hiding or denying his own rigid erection, groaning at the feeling of finally getting some friction after hours of waiting.

“Had to have you,” he whispers back. “Teasin’ me with those pictures like that.”

She moans when his mouth makes a sloppy, wet path from her jaw, down her neck, over her collarbones, landing on her breast. Mat licks and sucks every inch of skin he touches, drinking in the taste of her nipple between his lips. “Makin’ me so hard with these tits.”

“Just wanted to see if you were really whipped enough to fly here,” she purrs, raking her hand over his scalp when he takes her hardened peak between his teeth, biting down. His cheeks warm, embarrassed at the attention to just how desperate he is for her.

But he can’t deny it, so he doesn’t. Instead, he allows himself to indulge in her body, thinking that he might as well live up to his newfound title. 

“Need this pussy like I need water, baby,” he says with a sleek grin, letting his hand drift between her thighs, hissing with delight when he finds her drenched.  She rolls her eyes at the exaggerated comment, though she can’t ignore the flutter in her belly at his carnal need for her.

Her mouth opens to quip back, and he revels in the way a gasp usurps whatever sass she was about to deliver when he plunges a finger into her tight heat. She grips his digits snugly, squeezing him so tightly he wonders how he’s gonna fit another finger in, let alone his dick. The appendage gives another wanton throb.

The lemony jasmine of her shampoo invades his senses as his hand continues to pump, working his girl into a slow, maddening frenzy. Her back arches upward, kimono falling open so she’s all but bare to him. The slope of her breasts, curve of her waist, soft breath of her whimper draw him into her, pulling him into her trance.

Mat can tell by the high pitch in her whine that she’s bordering on desperate for something more. Slipping in another finger, he smirks against her lips when he hears the audible squelch of his digits pressing into her drenched center. The sound has his mouth watering, suddenly quenched of thirst. 

Gripping the plush, soft skin of her thighs, Mat pries her legs open—“jus’ a little more for me, sweetheart”—to make room for his broad shoulders before shifting his body down until he’s at eye-level with her waiting, wanting core. He doesn’t wait for her whimper before he’s pressing his face against her, moaning when his tongue tastes her slick. 

His girl is divine, her pussy a certain, secret entrance to the pearly gates. Each lap of his tongue isn’t nearly enough to curb his addiction, the craving never satiated. Her fingers twist into the long locks of his hair, tugging and pulling him exactly where she needs him; he’s pliant, moldable, eager to please. He’d devour her cunt whole, if he could. 

Unabashed moans encourage Mat to allow his fingers to rejoin his tongue, teasing the swollen nub at the apex of her gorgeous, heavenly slit. He drinks in her nectar like it’s the elixir of life, greedy and indulgent. The soft moans that he coaxes from her throat are just an added bonus.

He’s precise, paying close attention to the way she reacts to each flick of his tongue, each twist of his fingers. Between the choked gasps slipping from her pretty lips and the way her thighs tighten around his head, he knows he’s close—that she’s close. 

Another long, languid suck of her clit sends her hurtling into orgasm, spine arching off of the mattress. Mat’s hand rests firmly on her hip, holding her in place even despite the way her body writhes with the force of her release; he savors the taste of her flooding his mouth. 

Mat loses track of how many times he makes her come, flooding his mouth with her nectar. Three? Four? Five? His jaw aches, his mouth, chin and cheeks glistening with evidence of her arousal like he’s at a fucking all-you-can-eat buffet. He wishes Lou would let him grow a beard so he could taste her on his face for hours.

“Matty,” she sighs, and he can hear in her voice that she’s done with the foreplay. Her hands weakly tug at the cotton of his t-shirt in an attempt to draw him up to her. He obeys, pressing his mouth to her lips, letting her taste herself on his tongue; as he does, the clothed tip of his erection bumps against her open, waiting center, and she whines.

“I know, baby,” he coos, massaging the inside of her thigh with a large hand. She’s practically putty underneath his touch. “Wanna fuck you so bad I think my dick might fall off.”

“Too many clothes,” she says, voice still distant and hazy from her orgasms. Mat feels a smug sense of satisfaction at the way she weakly paws at his clothes, fingers searching for purchase in the cotton of his t-shirt. She’s right, though, and he wrenches his body from hers in favor of pulling his shirt over his head.

Heat floods her eyes and Mat watches the way her gaze falls to the cut lines of his muscle, shamelessly running over the abs and the biceps he’s worked so hard on. He’d be lying if he didn’t think of her—think of this—on the early mornings he dreaded getting out of bed to workout; the thought of her lips, her hips, her body never failing to encourage him to do one more rep. Mat knows his role, his duty, as the professional athlete: maintain the god-like physique that has her all but drooling.

And when she looks at him like that, how is he supposed to deny it?

Mat shimmies his pants off, palming his aching erection through his boxer briefs. His girl’s hand reaches up to aid him, the thin material barely a barrier between her skin and his, and he can’t help but groan at the contact.

“How long have you had this?” she purrs, stroking him leisurely. He can hardly process her words and she’s barely touched him.

“Since—fuck—since you sent me that picture.” His voice is more of a choked whisper, breath hitching in his throat when she offers him an affectionate squeeze.

“But that was hours ago, Matty,” she says, but the evil glint in her eye tells him that she isn’t really feeling sympathy for him; instead, there’s smug pride hidden behind a coy smile. “You must be desperate.”

All Mat can do is hum in response, every nerve on heightened alert as her hand drags slow, languid lines up and down his length. He knows if he opens his mouth, only nonsensical gibberish is going to come out and probably ruin the moment.

“Desperate enough to fly from Long Island to Chicago just to fuck me,” she continues musing. “I’m flattered.”

Pulling himself together—eyes closing when she gives him a squeeze—Mat steels himself to say, “Best pussy I’ve ever had. ‘Course I’m desperate for you.”

“Aww, Matty,” she says with a wry, teasing smile. “You have such a way with words.”

Impatience huffs out of Mat’s lips, doing his best to suppress a whine and a plea to please, grant him some relief. “Let me fuck you, baby.”

Her fingers dip into the waistband of his boxer briefs, tugging it down before he’s hurriedly shucking the material down his hips. “You gonna be polite?”

“Please,” he tacks on, pressing himself forward to connect his lips with hers, needing something—anything—to take the edge off. “Please, baby, swear I’ll fuck you so good.”

His girl hums, returning his kiss, letting his tongue slide into her mouth; symbolic in its action as he teases, dragging the muscle in and out in intentional, suggestive motions. He shifts his approach, letting his voice take on the sickly sweet, honeyed purr that she loves. “Know you want it, sweet girl. Bet you’re jus’ drippin’ for it, aren’t you?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

If Mat had a single ounce of resistance left in him, he’d tease her back, but he can’t draw out his own torture any longer. He lets his hand trail down her body, meeting her own that’s wrapped around his hard, bare length. His fingers brush against her, placing themselves over her hand before guiding himself toward the apex of her thighs. She smiles against his mouth, exhaling softly as his tip broaches her entrance.

“Think I can hear her purring for me,” he says, pressing his hips forward to plunge into her with a groan. A gasp leaves her mouth, hands quickly finding purchase in the dips of his shoulders. The feeling of her walls gripping him tightly nearly makes his eyes roll back in his head.

There isn’t a whisper of a retort on her tongue, his quick-witted girl rendered speechless with him sheathed inside her. As much as he loves her quick wit and feisty attitude, he can’t deny that it’s extremely satisfying to be the one to shut her up. 

For awhile, he’s content to simply stay that way, feeling the way her walls flutter around him, her body silently begging for more. But then she remembers how to speak, saying, “Mat, fuck me.”

It takes a moment to ensure he isn’t going to completely ruin everything by finishing immediately, but once he does, he lets his hips tick forward, then back, then forward again. He works the pace up to one that earns a lusty gasp in his ear, arms holding himself above her, silver chain dangling between his neck and her chin. 

“Squeezin’ onto me like your life depends on it, baby,” he grunts. “Fuck, this cunt is so worth the 3 hour flight. Would charter a private jet just to have it in my bed every single night.”

She hums, responding by wrapping her legs around his waist, welcoming him deeper. “Better make the most of it then, Barzal.”

And, well, when she puts it like that.

Mat fucks her slow, fucks her fast, doing his best to remember everything he’s thought about doing to her since he kissed her goodbye when he slipped out of her apartment two months ago. His voice is low in her ear, filthy words strung together between nips at her neck and sloppy, heated kisses against her mouth. She feels so fucking good, and he makes sure to tell her that—communication has always been one of his stronger points.

He presses his hips firmly against the backs of her thighs, burying himself as deep as he can go. His hands wander freely, one making a path between her neck and her breast, the other languidly trailing along the slope of her ass.

Her ass. Of course.

Lost in the euphoria of seeing her, touching her, tasting her, he’d almost forgotten about his very favorite body part of hers—the one he thought about on nights where he missed her, furiously fisting his length, that never failed to bring him to orgasm. Slowing his hand’s movements, he matches his smooth strokes to the tempo of his fingers kneading the globes of her ass. 

She loves it. He can tell in the way her hips roll, grinding herself against him, a feral-sounding moan coming from deep in her throat. Mat can practically feel the orgasm building inside of her, keeping his movements careful and precise, unwilling to change a single thing; he can’t tame the desire to feel her come around him.

“Matty,” she whimpers, a hand slipping between their bodies to rub at her clit. His eyes glance down to the movement, cursing lowly at the sight. “M’close.”

“Yeah, baby? You gonna come for me? Come on my cock after I flew all this way just to fuck you?”

If she tries to answer, nothing comes out other than another moan. Her eyes squeeze shut, and he imagines the fireworks that will soon dance beneath her eyelids. Fingers stroke at her soft skin, almost as if he’s willing her orgasm into existence. He lowers his voice to murmur, “I’ve been dreaming about feeling you come all over me for weeks, baby. It’s the least you can do.”

When she reaches the precipice, her body freezes beneath him, time standing still for a millisecond as she shatters. He can almost feel the way it courses through her, the way her pussy clamps onto him so tightly he sees stars of his own. 

It’s glorious. Sinfully, decadently, maddeningly exquisite. 

Mat’s patient with her comedown, whispering soft words of encouragement, hips resuming a gentle motion that probes her sensitive core. She whines, pawing at his shoulder to push him away. Her voice is gentle, a soft command. “Matty.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says with a cheeky smile. “Y’feel too good.”

He’s aware, though, wants to give her a moment of reprieve before he bends her over the way he wants to. So, he suppresses a huff as he pulls out of her delicious heat, distracting himself from the loss by kissing her hotly. She seems distracted, too, sighing into his mouth, enjoying the way it feels like he’s devouring her whole.

“Wanna fuck you from behind,” he murmurs against her lips. “Watch this ass bounce on me.”

Mat helps her up, allowing her to tear her lips away from his in favor of flipping over. Once she’s settled on her hands and knees, the mattress dipping slightly beneath her weight, he takes a moment to admire the view: pussy glistening with the remnants of her orgasm, framed by the globes of her perfect ass. Heaven. 

“Gotta be inside you,” he says, a statement that’s more like a declaration.

“Quit making me wait.”

His eyebrow raises. “Thought we were being polite.”

“You are. I can be whatever I want,” she shoots back with a smile. His dick gives another mild twitch.

Mat hums. “Guess I better give the lady what she wants, then.”

Judging by the way she’s backing up to meet him, he assumes she’s had plenty of reload time and slips back into her. This time, he doesn’t take his time to ramp up, instead setting a grueling pace from the start, his hands gripping tightly onto her hips. 

A groan, followed by a loud curse. “Think about this every damn day. You, taking it from behind like this. Bent over jus’ for me.”

Her reply is to lean forward farther, spreading her arms forward onto the mattress and opening herself to him even more. Mat accepts the invitation to drive deeply into her, hips slapping loudly against the back of her thighs. The thought of her neighbors briefly flits through his mind, but another glance back down at her ass has that consideration slipping away as quickly as it came. He doesn’t care who hears or who he wakes up; hell, he’d be fine telling the entire world that he gets to fuck her.

“Since you came all this way, you deserve a treat,” she says, twisting her head to glance over her shoulder at him. The sight of her peachy, round ass and her bedroom eyes looking up at him makes his balls tighten.

“And what might that be?” Mat accentuates the question by squeezing her hips tightly. He swallows down the comment that this, here, being inside of her, is already reward enough.

“I’ll let you come inside.”

Since their trysts began, she’s made Mat relieve himself elsewhere—her chest, her ass, her face; his mind briefly flits to each, reminiscing on the mental snapshot he took each time. The thought of not just not having to pull out moments before the strongest climaxes of his life, but at the idea of finishing inside of her is enough to have his heart pulsing rapidly in his chest. 

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up?” he says with a grin, leaning forward to brush his lips against her ear. The action presses him even deeper inside of her, his hips snug against the curve of her ass as he whispers, “Fuck my load deep inside this perfect little cunt?”

She nods, mouth opening in a silent gasp when he gives a particularly hard thrust. “Yeah. Wanna feel you, Matty.”

Her eyes shoot open when he pauses his movements, glancing back at him in protest when he pulls away. Both hands pull lightly on her hips, encouraging her to flip over onto her back. When she does, her eyes catch his and he smiles. 

“Wanna see your face when I come,” he says with a shrug, easing himself back into her waiting core. 

“Oh, he’s down bad.”

He laughs, face crinkling into a smile despite the way the burn of euphoria builds in his stomach. A hand drags down the outside of her leg, tucking her calf around his hip. “Fuck off.”

“Are you gonna come in me or not?”

“You begging for it?” 

The four words dramatically change the mood; Mat watches her eyes darken as they sink in. Like he gave a secret code to have her submissive and pliant beneath him. Her voice is barely above a whisper, her lips pouty. “Please, Matty.”

Mat slows his hips, savoring the way her pussy sucks him in, greedy. He can’t help the grin that curls up on his face, watching the way her eyebrows knit together. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, sweetheart.”

“Please, baby,” she whines, “wanna feel you come in me. I—I need it.”

He hums. “Been dreaming about filling this tight pussy up for months, baby. Wanna watch my cum drip out of this slutty little cunt.”

“Please,” is her whispered plea—quiet and desperate.

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” he says with a smirk. The pace of his hips increase, balls tightening with the threat of his climax. He listens to her moans, the sound of his skin against hers, the rustle of the sheets beneath his knees. His girl’s hands tighten around his shoulders, holding onto him as she absorbs the weight of his thrusts, body shifting up and down on the mattress. 

Mumbles of her name, of obscenities, flow out of his mouth, low murmurs in her ear. His rhythm starts to falter, no longer a steady metronome but a series of sloppy, uneven thrusts as Mat finds it harder and harder to stay focused. 

The release starts deep in his core, bursting through with a loud groan as he finally meets his end, reveling in the feeling of spilling inside of her. It’s freeing to have no barriers between him and her, to feel her in all of her pure, whole self, the way she contracts tightly around him as her own final climax barrels through her. Mat’s vision goes fuzzy, and for a moment he’s pretty sure his soul ascends out of his body.

It occurs to Mat that he’s slumped on top of her, panting into the crook of her neck while soft, small hands trace lazy lines up and down his spine. The touch ignites his nerve endings, sending another wave of consciousness through his system. Her nails drag delicious, soothing lines onto his scalp, and he feels his throat vibrate against her collarbone in a moan. His vision gradually grows from fuzzy to just a bit of a haze when he peels his eyes open.

“Baby, that was the—”

“Hardest you’ve ever come?”

Mat blinks, fully back in reality now, shifting his head to look at her in disbelief. “How did you know?”

She chuckles, lips brushing against his ear. “You said that last time, too.”

[evie-sturns]

"fuck off" - Matt Sturniolo

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summary: matts ice-hockey team has a rough loss, you try to comfort matt after the game but he snaps at you.

warnings: fighting, swearing, angst, SMUT.

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another goal to the other team. matt's team was getting destroyed by the opposition and he was not having it, "what the fuck are you on ref?" matt shouts at the referee as he skates away. BUZZ the buzzer signalling the end of the match echos throughout the arena and i instantly turn to nick, whos sitting next to me on the bleachers "hey nick im gonna go find matt alright?" i say to nick as i gather my things and speed-walk towards the changing rooms.

i wait outside the mens changing room for 10 minutes until the doors swing open, "matt.. hey, you alright?" i say looking at him but he just pushes past me and out of the facility, into the parking lot. i quickly chase after him as he storms towards the car "matt?" i call out as i catch up to him and he swing around to face me "just fuck off y/n, ive had a shit day and your annoying ass isn't helping." matt growls at me as he looks down at me. my eyes widen and my eyebrows furrow, the uncomfortable silence grows, i shake it off temporarily and grab his bicep "matt i know your angry, but please dont talk to me like that." i say gently trying to calm him down "ill talk to you how i want" he snaps back then pushes me off him, opens the door to the car and climbs in in a huff.

i look around to try see if nicks coming, but i assume he's getting a ride home with chris so i open the door to the passenger side and quickly climb in. matt starts to drive forward as soon i shut the door and the rest of the drive is silent apart from a few grunts from matt.

we pull into the driveway and matt instantly turns off the car, grabs his hockey back and gets out of the car, stomping up to the house and letting himself in, not even bothering to look back. why is he acting like this, its just one loss?

after a few minutes of attempting to calm my anger down and failing, i get out of the car and slam the car door shut behind me and running up to the house. matts locked himself in the bathroom so i run into our bedroom, and push the door shut behind me. i change out of my thermals into a matching brandy melville pyjama set and i crawl into bed.

after 45 minutes of scrolling on my phone i hear a soft few knocks on the door to the bedroom and i sigh quietly and ignore it. 3 more gentle knocks. i realise hes not planning on going away so i mumble "come in."

the door pushes open and matts face peeks in, he comes into the room in silence and lays down on the bed next to me, flat on his back. i roll over away from him to face the wall, and i can hear the soft clicking noise of matt biting his nails. i feel 1 warm hand on my shoulder which rolls me over onto my back. matt rolls onto his side to face me and he looks me in my eyes. "im so sorry y/n" he says calmly and quietly but i stay silent. "i didnt mean anything i said, and i was a total dick. i dont know if you knew but that game was the decider if i got a scholarship, and i totally fucked it up." he continues, "a-and i was so mad at myself, that i took it out on everyone, like in the locker room i was cussing everyone out, and im not proud of it, at all" matt says, "and now i dont know if im gonna get the scholarship and im so fucking stressed, but i am truly sorry on what i said." he groans. "close your eyes matt." i say softly and his eyebrows furrow out of confusion "huh?" he says, definitely not expecting that response. "trust me" i say again, with a smirk playing at my lips and he squeezes his eyes shut.

i shimmy my way down to the middle of the bed, right next to matts lap. i silently pull my tank top off and place it beside me as pull down matts sweatpants down slightly, almost letting his cock spring out and his breath instantly hitches "fuck. please.." he groans as he balls up his fisted and rubs both of his eyes. i see his bulge grow bigger. i plant gentle kisses on his clothed bulge as he whimpers desperately, "matt, i am about to suck your cock until you cum down my throat, and if you open your eyes, i will stop." i say softly, taking control of the situation and he nods "okay- fuck yeah okay" he says frantically nodding. i pull down his sweatpants all the way and his cock springs out onto his stomach, his tip is the exact shade of his lips and is leaking precum. I lick my lips and grab his shaft, only putting the tip in my mouth, he lets out a long groan and pushes his hair back with his tattooed arm. I suck his tip gently then take it out of my mouth, and he whines. "patience matthew" i giggle and then trail my tongue from his balls up the long vein going up his dick. "please.. let me fuck you oh my fuck-" he groans quietly and thats enough for me to take his whole length in my mouth, bobbing my head quickly up and down. i quickly take my mouth off him after a few minutes and his eyes stay shut. hes so stimulated that he doesnt even notice me crawling ontop of him and hovering above his tip. he lets out a soft moan and i sink down onto his length. "what the f-" he gasps quietly and his eyes spring open to look at me. his hands instantly grip my hips and push me down further onto him "good girl." he groans as he pulls me up and down on his cock "fuck- so tight" he growls out as he goes faster "close-" i warn and he guides me up and down faster.

i let out an almost pornographic scream as i orgasm all over his cock. "fuck-" he stammers as he cums inside of me. i collapse onto his chest with him still buried inside of me. he holds my ass gently as he catches his breath "you're so perfect you know?" he whispers into my ear and i groan into his ear. "you want me to.. you know pull out..?" he says embarrassed.

"not really honestly"

"oh.. do you forgive me?"

"after that orgasm, yeah."

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hoooottttt anyways leave requests, they can be anon!! theres a little button on my page.

hope yall liked this!!

[ventismacchiato]

O5 stuck with you —strawberry bong !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

content warning — mentions of weed and getting high

“Hey guys,” Aether greets, swinging the door open. 

You and Yoimiya look up from the living room floor, where you both were sorting through what stash you had. An assortment of weird flavored vapes, an ugly bong, and a few joints. 

“Welcome,” Lumine greeted, locking the door behind the four of them. Your eyes flicker towards Scara, who’s staring around your guys’ dorm curiously. Everyone else had been there before, but he’s refused since you were present. 

Fischl flickers the lights off apart from the LEDs hung around your dorm. The space settles into a dark haze, the dim red and blue being the only source of light as everyone finds a spot. 

“You got the goods?” Childe asks, plopping down across from you as everyone settles onto the floor. Unfortunately, Scaramouche ends up next to you. He doesn’t even spare you a glance.

“Goods? What are you, 14?” Aether laughs.

Venti pulled out a small plastic bag from his pocket. It was hard to see in the lack of light, but you could see bundles of green inside.

“Here,” Venti replied, tossing the bag to you, who caught it clumsily, “You have a joint, right?.”

You tucked the bag away and pulled a joint out of your pocket, popping it out of its tube. You took a lighter from Yoimiya’s hand and it let out a lousy spark, but no flame came out.

Scara scoffs from beside you, but before you could make a comment he covered the lighter with his hand, causing a flame to come out. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, taking a hit, and passing it to him. 

Scaramouche took the joint from you with his free hand, bringing it to his lips. He leaned his head against the base of the couch behind you both, passing it to Childe and so on. 

Aether soon brought out his phone, connecting it to a speaker as music slipped through the room. Fischl put out a pack of UNO as you guys all started a slow paced game while passing around a joint that slowly diminished.

Venti set up his bong, much to Scara’s dismay. 

“Can you roll some blunts for me, I’m going to check if we have drinks,” Yoimiya asks, gesturing to the table. “I can try,” you slowly say, eyeing her work. You were never good at rolling, and you still weren’t if your clumsy fingers were any tell. You bit the inside of your cheek as you attempted to tuck the paper in with your fingers, but failed miserably as a bit of weed kept falling onto your lap.

“You’re shit at this.”

That was the first thing he’s said to you since your fight in the dressing rooms a few days ago, and of course it was an insult.

“Shut up, I almost got it,” you huff. 

You most certainly did not got it.

“You’re supposed to mold the weed in as you go,” Scara says, “You’re really bad at everything you do.”

You roll your eyes but follow his words. You can feel his eyes on your hands as you continue to struggle to get the paper to stay put.

Before you could give up and keep everyone waiting Scaramouche reached over to grab your wrist and pull your hand towards his face.  

“Hold the end,” he orders, folding over the paper for you as you hold the end of the soon to be blunt in front of him. His movements are swift and precise as he rolls the blunt with practiced ease. You can’t help the flicker of resentment spark up at his effortless skill.

You almost tug your hand away, not wanting his help, but he brings the blunt, and in tow you, closer to his lips. His grip on your hand is soft as he leans down and licks across the paper, his lips close to your fingers as he seals the blunt shut. He looks up to lock eyes with you, were his eyelashes always so long? 

The LEDs painted the living room in rolling light and shadow, and you were suddenly conscious of Scara’s unrelenting gaze. For a second, your eyes met his dark, half-lidded eyes. They seemed unfathomably deep, like staring into an abyss. Scaramouche soon pulled back, snapping out of whatever that was before you, and tugging the blunt out of your hands and leaning back to light it.

“That’s how you do it, dumbass,” he says, placing it between his lips.

“Whatever,” you manage to say. The image of his eyes looking up at you crystal clear in your mind. You snatched the blunt back from him, you needed to forget the weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. Envy, that was surely it.

Yoimiya came back with drinks and rated your blunt an 8/10, but didn’t ask you to roll anymore throughout the night. The UNO game was soon forgotten as you guys passed around controllers to play Mario Kart and take hits. Childe insisted it was more fun when high. 

It always took you a while to start feeling it, you’ve only occasionally taken part with your members a few times. You could feel the weight of Yoimiya’s hands on your shoulder as she shouted out for you to dodge the banana peels, the stain on the ground from where Venti had knocked over his beer earlier was suddenly bothersome, and the dim lighting seemed to lull you to sleep.  

You look to your left, watching as Scara puts down a draw four for Aether, who was still playing, his nimble fingers flipping over the cards and smirking as Aether wails in response. His skin glowed warm under the flickering violet lights, his lips pulled into a frown as Aether pulled a reverse card on him. He was pretty, but you’ve always known this. It was one of the many reasons you disliked him.

Your head felt light for the first time that week, all the stress from the awards ceremony incident dissipating. It was as if the weed inside you rose up to your skin, turning you inside out, causing every emotion you felt to be turned up to the next ten dials. Every nerve in your body was buzzing with anticipation. Of what, you didn’t quite know yet. 

You promptly let your head hang limp for a while, letting your eyes fall shut as the voices of everyone around you faded into a faint noise. A few minutes pass before you find yourself falling to your left, your head landing on something soft as you drift off into nothingness.

When you come to the dorm is quiet apart from the low music of the abandoned game of Mario Kart on the tv screen. Apart from everyone else passed out and splayed across each other the first thing you notice is the fact that you're laying on someone’s lap. 

Assuming it’s Yoimiya you look up and are taken aback at Scara’s head hung a few inches above you. His arms are crossed and his chest is rising slowly, and when there isn’t a scowl or frown adorning his face, he looks rather peaceful. At that moment, Scaramouche was the epitome of contentment that even monks who cultivated for decades would be jealous of. 

You’re suddenly aware of every one of your movements, it would be humiliating for him to see you like this. You turn your attention back at the room and eye the mess you guys all made. You should really wake them all up in case Jean visits you guys in the morning, your heart can’t handle another lecture from her. 

You turn and look back up to see Scara staring at you with a heavy unrelenting gaze. You yelp and sit up abruptly, scooching away from him.

He merely stretches out his legs and leans his head back, as if you hadn’t just fallen asleep on him.

“Ew, I can’t believe I took a nap on you. Why didn’t you push me off?” you ask.

“Lumine said she’d kill me if I did,” Scara answers, his voice hoarse from just waking up, “Your big head is heavy, don't do that shit again.”

“As if I’d ever want to, fuck you,” you huff, “You’re uncomfortable,” you add. Which wasn’t true, his sweatpants were rather cushy, but you’d die before admitting that. 

“You drooled on my pants,” Scara grimaces.

“Did not!”

“This is why nobody wants to sleep with you.”

“Who told you that?!”

“Just an observation.”

You scoff and busy yourself with picking up the UNO cards scattered around you. He wasn’t completely wrong, you were too busy with idol life to seek out any sort of relationships. But he didn’t need to know that.

“Not everyone is a slut like you,” you say back, bringing your knees to your chest.

Scaramouche looks over at you for a second, an insult probably loaded atop his tongue, before he instead stands up and stretches his arms above his head. His shirt rides up for a moment, a flash of a tattoo being visible for a second before he looks around. 

“Which one is Xiao’s room?”

“First door on the left, why?”

He doesn’t answer, grabbing a vape off of the table and walking off, shutting the door behind him. 

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

guys i had to interrogate my stoner friends for help so i hope the scenes are accurate LMFAO i have no idea how this shit works

me watching how to roll a joint tutorials at 3am so the sexy scene of him licking it in front of u is accurate…

I think everyone having to hide their stashes from jean is a funny running joke

also do u guys think scara wud have a tramp stamp or what give me tattoo ideas

also lumine calls reader girl and i believe girl is a gender neutral term xx

asking again guys pls let me use ur usernames and make u a crazy fan in the au comment on the masterlist if ur interested

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — scara brainrot is being overpowered by haikyuu brainrot pls comment and leave me motivation

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic

[mvltisstuff]

going, going, gone - c.f

summary: y/n’s the only person who can get conrad, and he realizes that maybe he’s been falling for the wrong conklin.

conrad fisher x conklin!reader

gif from @conradfiisher

a/n: this will likely have a part two, so it probably won’t end here!! no promises as to when pt 2 is out but it will be there eventually ;)) this is literally me wishing i could slap some sense into belly

part two

“hey,” y/n greets, stepping into the beach house and finding conrad unpacking.

“hi,” he smiles lightly. the past few months have been nearly impossible. trying to crack conrad open is like trying to break into a safe. it took y/n forever to be able to understand conrad, and now that she finally did, there was an undeniable spark. she could sense the tension in his mind, knowing that something had set him off. he looked like he just wanted to break down, but he didn’t want to. if he did, he doesn’t know how to put himself back together.

“you ok?” she asks, cautiously. he’s almost like a wild animal, get too close and he runs away. especially since susannah died, he hasn’t been able to find a connection like the one he had with his mother.

“fine,” he mumbles, folding a few blankets onto the couch and placing some pillows beside it.

“conrad, don’t play this game with me again,” y/n sighs, stepping closer to him. he pauses in his movements to look up at her, slapping one last piece of decor on the mantle. “can we at least talk about the exam?”

“i, um,” he stutters, unable to find the right words that have disappeared in his mind. it’s like he completely pushed out the exam, all the other events had forcefully taken the excitement from it. “i feel really good about it, but it’s just an exam.”

y/n can tell in his slumped stance that something is truly disturbing him. he looks broken, and whoever did it certainly failed to put the pieces back together. it appears that they didn’t even try. “talk to me, conrad. please?”

he stops, breaking eye contact. he can’t look at her while he tells her because she can’t see his face when he says it. he doesn’t want y/n to see him crack under the pressure again.

“jeremiah and belly were making out on my car when i came out of testing. i walked out and there they were.”

“what?” y/n spits out, thinking about everything belly had told her before. “i thought she said she moved on-“

“yeah, i did, too,” his voice breaks, still avoiding any looks to y/n. if y/n sees him falling apart over belly, y/n would probably say something. the last thing conrad wants is for belly to know the affect this had on him.

“conrad, you know you can talk to me, right?” she steps closer, wanting to reach out her hand to him but knowing he probably doesn’t want it. he wants belly’s. “anything you say to me won’t get back to her.”

he slightly turns, finally letting his eyes wander up y/n’s body until they meet hers. he’s always found a trust in y/n. she’s been there since they were little kids, but it’s always felt different. there was an innocence to her, she felt like home and he could always run back to her if he needed her. he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he ruined that.

“i’m just so tired, y/n. it’s just one step forward and two steps back. i thought we could finally be over this, but they both just stabbed me in the back. on my car, during my test, in my hoodie. my mom always said belly was destined for me, but it just feels like jere took that.”

y/n can feel the hurt as well as see it on conrad’s face. she’s able to read him so well now that he’s not afraid to open up. she feels like they’ve gotten through a door, a point where they can share secrets and find a safety net in the other. “belly doesn’t deserve you, conrad. she’s not as mature as you, and you can thrive without her, i swear.”

“i’ll be ok, i just need a break from all this shit,” he groans, allowing y/n to finally walk up to him and hold his hand. “i don’t know if we can go back to the way things were after this.”

“i know i can’t change what happened, but i need you to understand that you’re not alone. at this point, you come first to me.” he nods, and y/n can see the sunrise in his face a bit more, but his mind is still covered with darkness. “if you need anything, please call me or come see me, ok?”

“deal,” he cracks a little grin, making y/n smile a bit in return.

“take care of yourself, connie,” she says before opening the front door. she starts the long drive home knowing what’s waiting for her there.

she plants her stuff down on the counter, letting her body relax after the hours behind the wheel. she starts to clean up some of the mess that she left on the counter when she hears squeaky footsteps come down the stairs.

“hey, you’re back already?” belly says, lurking into the kitchen to lean against the frame. y/n doesn’t say anything, she just looks at her and continues to organize everything. “what’s wrong, why do you look like that?”

“honestly, belly, i’m just trying to figure out what to say to you.”

“what do you mean?” belly asks, trying to think about why her older sister could have a reason to be mad at her.

“i stopped at cousins on the way home,” y/n informs her, belly knowing exactly where she left conrad.

“y/n, you can’t be pissed off because of what he told you-“

“no, belly, i have every right to be pissed. i’m pissed for conrad. you left him in the dust and you have no shame about it.”

“it just happened, jeremiah and i. i never wanted to hurt conrad, but im in love!”

“yeah, you were also in love last week with conrad. and the week before with jeremiah. you need to move on from them, bell,” y/n sighs, allowing belly some time to build another response.

“who are you to even say that?”

“because i’ve been there for both of them! i was there for jeremiah when you wanted conrad. i’m there for conrad because you are playing with their hearts like they’re toys. i can tell your hearts not fully in it with jeremiah, but i’m not gonna let you destroy those boys even more.”

“how am i destroying them?”

“belly, wipe that innocence off your face. you’ve managed to rip apart the fisher brothers because you cannot pick which one you like more.”

“but-“

“no, belly! listen to me,” y/n cuts her off before she can try and make anything better. “you couldn’t even contain yourself at susannah’s funeral because you were too worried about conrad. i know we are all grieving, but you are acting like you’re more worried about which brother likes you more. it’s exhausting having to clean up the mess you make over and over again. you’re slowly ruining this bond for me, for steven, for mom! you know i love you more than words, but if you keep playing with their feelings, belly, this family is going to be destroyed.”

“y/n, susannah told me-“

“use susannah as an excuse one more fucking time, belly.” the room goes deadly silent, y/n sick of the excuses and victimized mentality of belly. when steven comes stepping quietly into the room, he ganders softly into the chaotic mess that has formed between his sisters. she swipes her keys back off the table, grabbing an extra bag out of the closet. “i’ll be back.”

“where are you going?” belly says, eyes full of tears from her fear of confrontation. her voice was shaky, and y/n could still feel a sting of guilt in her chest. she hated to build a bigger wall between everyone, but belly had to hear it.

“i’m going to look after conrad, because you failed to do it,” y/n ends their conversation, slamming the front door behind her and moving to the car. she left the house with a terrible tone, but someone else needed her more. belly had jeremiah, taylor, steven, laurel, anyone she wanted. conrad had y/n, and that became enough for him.