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targaryen-dynasty · 5 months

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SET ME ALIGHT AGAIN.

Cregan Stark x female!Targaryen!Reader (Part 2 here)

"It was on request of your younger brother's small council that Lord Cregan Stark agreed to take you to the North with him to prevent you from succumbing to grief like your aunt did. And now it's at his hands that the haze in your eyes is replaced by an emotion you haven't felt in so long, an emotion he’s giving back to you. And you let it flood you."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; p in v, oral (fem receiving), angst (?), breeding kink, size kink, size difference, romantic fucking in front of the fireplace, afab reader, post dance of the dragons

WORDS: 4.8 K

NOTES: I dedicate this to @sylasthegrim. You're not only one of the few people I really grew fond of in the short time we truly got to know each other, but since both our minds basically came down to the same idea, this is for you! Thanks for beta reading this. 💕

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

You’ve been in Winterfell for a moon’s turn by now, and have quickly noticed that the ancestral castle possesses a beauty and calmness the Red Keep can be jealous of. But even that isn’t enough to make you feel at home – as if you could ever call a place your home again. Not after you’ve witnessed almost everyone in your family, no matter whether you liked them or not, perish at the hands of each other.

It was on request of your younger brother, now dubbed King Aegon the third, or rather of his small council that Lord Cregan Stark agreed to take you to the North with him to prevent you from succumbing to grief like your aunt did. And while you’re grateful for the chance to flee the one place that has caused you more hurt than good, riding in a carriage up to the far North like a commoner wasn’t exactly pleasant.

But how else should you have gotten there when your precious mount died along its kind as the common people stormed the Dragonpit?

For the past month, you’ve very rarely seen the sun – or anyone else than your maids.

Your days are spent in your chambers, not leaving the safety of the Guest House as you often try to find the sleep you can’t seem to get at night. And during the night, when the Hour of the Owl strikes and no light other than that of the moon reaches Winterfell, one often finds you wandering the quiet halls of the castle. Sometimes one even spots you outside in the Godswood, regardless of the low temperatures that make the three pools fed by an underground hot spring look even more inviting.

But warmth and comfort are never what you’re after.

You feel incredibly daring tonight, sitting beneath the ancient weirwood tree on one of its roots. Although there is a thick fur coat draped around your frame, the thin nightgown beneath does not allow you to be kept as warm as one usually desires, your bare feet hidden inside of the coat not a big help either.

Tiptoeing barefoot through the snow was the hardest part, but it was worth it as it gave you exactly what your body longs for.

You’re far too absorbed by the reflection of the moon dancing on the pool of black water beneath the tree, and the peaceful allure of the snow-covered night that you don’t notice you’re not alone anymore.

“Princess?” a husky voice rings out from the shadows, one you’d even recognize in a room full of loud and drunken men.

Almost as if he doesn’t want to startle you, the tall frame of the Lord of Winterfell approaches you without any sudden moves, becoming more visible with the moonlight shining down on him. “What are you doing out here this late?”

Only when he’s stopping not far away from you do you avert your eyes from him to the water again. “I could ask you the same, Lord Stark,” you reply softly.

A chuckle rumbles in his chest at your remark, and you can’t help the tint of heat hearing it brings to your cheeks. “Indeed you could,” he says. “I have not slept well, and the night has a peaceful allure. But you should not be out in the open without any guards, especially not this late at night.”

You drag your index finger through the snow at your side, drawing a mindless pattern in the dark as you do not pay any mind to his words. “And why is that, Lord Stark?” you ask, a certain snarkiness to your tone. “There is nothing worse that could happen to me than what I have already endured.”

Cregan sighs, and even in the dim light you can make out that he’s scratching his stubble covered chin. “And yet, should something else happen to you, I would not like myself for neglecting you and not protecting you just as I have sworn to the king,” he explains. “Besides, there is a cold chill in the air that I can not believe you are not feeling right now.”

“Perhaps that is the answer you’ve been looking for, my lord,” you mumble. “Perhaps I came here to feel something.”

The Wolf of the North doesn’t immediately answer you. Instead, there lingers a pause between you. But it’s not uncomfortable or feels as though it doesn't pass, no, you find yourself to actually enjoy his company.

His next words, however, even surprise you as you didn’t think he was capable of it. “Feeling the cold of the snow has its way to make one feel alive, that much is true,” he agrees, and then looks up to the dark sky. “You wish to feel something else than the pain of the absence of the people you’ve lost in this war, I understand… I think.”

His words make the feeling of emptiness, the hollowing ache of loss just worse, while at the same time, he seems to know the feeling of craving pain when you’re just so used to it.

“This cold bite, the chill that lingers on the skin — no one should want to feel it, Princess. It makes even my bones shake, do you know that? Surely you must be shivering, and we should be getting you inside. I should be getting you inside.”

You know he‘s right. While his words are blunt in nature, they are very much that of truth. You shouldn’t be out here, nor should you want to be out here. There‘s nothing to enjoy about this cold chill and the snow, not when you‘re as sparsely dressed as you are. You‘re not yet used to the chill of Winterfell, of the North.

Cregan offers you his hand, but you‘re still hesitant to take it. Albeit you reach out, your significantly smaller hand hovers over his, not yet grabbing it. “You‘re not exactly wearing proper attire to be out in this wretched cold for very long,“ he remarks. “Let me help you get up, your feet must be in agony by now.“

“And what if I don‘t want to?“

“Then I will still get you up.“ There is a tinge of amusement in his voice now, seeing this little bit of rebelliousness from you, your strength of mind. Even if he doesn’t exactly approve of it. “I shall simply pick you up myself, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you inside to your chambers, even though I‘d get you quite angry and don‘t imagine you want me to do just that.“

You don’t believe he actually has the gumption to do something like that at first, although you know he’s able to muster a decent amount of strength that would easily allow him to lift you up. But then, you wonder if he would truly do it if challenged. “Try that, if you dare, my lord.”

He lets out a snort of amusement, enjoying the teasing that slowly shapes between you two. It still is a challenge, and as a man of his station, he could never let words like this go unspoken. “Oh, I dare, Princess.”

Putting forth his arm, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and easily pulls you forwards onto your feet without applying too much pressure. You’re certainly caught off guard by his actual willingness to lift you up, and a squeal escapes your lips before you’re tossed on his strong shoulder as if you are some silly, helpless girl.

Cregan carries you through the Godswood and towards the Guest House, though you don’t resist too much as you’re hanging there over his shoulder – a part of you is grateful you don’t have to walk through the snow with your bare feet once more.

“Lord Stark, put me down at once!” you demand with a little twinge of laughter in your voice. You feel so light, much lighter than you imagine he’s used to lifting up, almost as if it’s taken all of the pressure off your shoulders.

But when there doesn’t come an answer from him, you grow slightly frustrated. “What if anyone sees, you madman!” you remark, embarrassment warming your cheeks.

“Madman? That’s rich coming from the woman who was willing to freeze to death in the snow,” he says jokingly, approaching the large doors. “Who do you think could see us at this hour, princess? The rats? And what if they do? What if someone sees me carrying the poor princess, who had the gall to get out of her bed after midnight and wander the Godswood while in her nightgown?” Although there is amusement in his voice, you also notice the faintest hint of flirtation laced within. “Will they judge me for carrying her, or would they judge her for her imprudent midnight excursion?”

You stay silent thrown over his shoulder, not sure how to reply. You thought you had a good comeback, but it seems Cregan is one step ahead of you. The flirtatious teasing you’ve heard catches you off guard, not expecting to hear it from him at all. It makes your cheeks flush with even more embarrassment when you notice that he’s actually right. But you don’t want to admit the truth in what he’s said.

“You mock me, but you shall see there would be much scandal if someone were to see this,” you retort, trying to keep calm as you’re now a little bit flustered by these sudden developments. “Besides,” you say, trying to remain unbothered and nonchalant, “who says I won’t tell a tale of you being the imprudent one?”

“Ah, you little rascal,” Cregan replies with a chuckle, giving your thigh a tight squeeze. “I see you’d find a way to turn the tides and have it end up with me being the bad guy, taking my chances on a vulnerable woman in the guise of protecting her.”

You’re clearly enjoying the teasing a tad too much, enjoying these quick and witty back-to-backs with him, taking your mind off of your grief. Drawing in a deep breath, you hold onto Cregan’s thick coat. “What would you have been protecting me from, Lord Stark?” you ask with feigned innocence. “Were the trees too menacing that you just had to sweep me off my feet to carry me away from their clutches?”

“No, I am afraid it was not the trees that had me worried, Princess,” Cregan replies as he brings you further into the Guest House, easily opening the door to the sleeping quarters with one hand. “The cold was the greater menace, and it had you in its grasp.”

Your words die in your throat when he puts you down on your bed, the soft furs very welcomed beneath your cold feet. You look up at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest as he towers over your significantly smaller frame, and you wait for him to make the next move.

There’s a moment of silence between you, obviously he’s considering his next words.

And boy do they disappoint you. “I shall make sure a fire is lit for you to warm yourself, princess,” he says, turning around to approach the hearth on the other side of the room.

Cregan crouches down to build and start a small fire in the hearth that should last the night, not wanting you to stay too cold. But you wouldn’t be a thoroughbred dragon if it didn’t mean for you to take any risks. And so you get onto your cold feet, the coat still draped around your shoulders sliding down to the ground.

Feeling a bit too exposed too quickly, you grab one of the thick fur blankets laying on your bed instead and wrap it around your frame, before you tiptoe towards the large wolf kneeling in front of the fireplace.

“I have something different in mind,” you speak softly. Cregan, startled by your words and your sudden approach, turns around and faces you as he rises to his feet. You reach and bury your hands in the collar of his coat, the blanket falling to the ground in the process, and when you use your grip to pull him close, you find that he does not shy away in the least – if anything, he follows the tug to connect your lips in a heated kiss.

He brings his large hands to your waist with ease, and presses his body against yours. The wolf feels like he’s drowning in you, in your lips, your warmth, your presence and scent. Wanting to lose himself in the moment, in you, his hands wander lower to your hips.

“I did not expect you to do this tonight,” he breathes against your lips, breaking the silence.

“And I did not expect some things from you tonight either,” you reply, breathlessly, voice breaking with every breath you take. “Is that a bad thing?”

His voice is low and smooth as he speaks, shaking his head. “Quite the contrary.” There is a flirtatious smile on his lips, and a playfulness you haven’t seen before in his gray eyes. It’s as if that small spark between you has quickly evolved into an inferno that now burns bright in the both of you.

It’s a fierce and burning kiss when your lips connect once more, fueled by the fires coursing through your veins. You release a soft whimper with his large paws trailing over your sides, feeling the fabric of your nightgown.

“If we continue this, I won’t be able to stop myself,” he rasps.

You tilt your head back to look at him, a cheeky grin on your lips. “Perhaps I do not want you to.”

Cregan’s eyebrows raise at your reply, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist once more. He can’t help but feel a jolt of arousal run down his back, which prompts him to release a low chuckle. “Well, if you wish for it that much…” he whispers in response, before pulling you back toward him, kissing you passionately.

A breathless chuckle slips past your lips as you pull back from him, licking your kiss swollen lips. “But there are a few things we need to get you out of first,” you tease, tugging at the thick, furry coat that’s draped over his broad shoulders.

“Are you this eager to have your hands over all of me?” he replies with a flirtatious smirk, but still unclips the coat and lets it fall to the ground. He doesn’t mind you seeming quite intent to get him out of his armor, allowing you to fumble with the clasps and buckles, and eventually helps you remove the heavy bits until he’s left wearing nothing but his breeches. But even those are quickly unlaced by you, left to be a puddle around his feet.

“My my, do you not feel a little too hot still, Lord Stark?” you tease, letting your fingers wander over his exposed stomach. You can’t help but feel warmth creeping onto your cheeks as you see him in such little clothing, so exposed. He’s a muscular man, tall and large, and the sight of his bare skin with the dark of hair on his chest and a trail of it running below his undergarments is a welcoming one.

Through the linen you see that he’s already hard and begging, waiting for you to take things further. Truly a shame you seem to relish in the teasing.

Goosebumps prickle on his skin in the wake of your finger, making you smile. You drag your finger along the waistband of his undergarments, hooking it beneath to tug on it. He knows what you desire, and he’s not ashamed to give you just that. “I do not see you so eager to remove your own clothes, Princess,” he teases, undoing the laces in the front for his undergarments to join his breeches. “It is hardly fair you want to see all of me, yet I am not allowed to do the same.”

You take in a sharp breath at the sight of his hard cock, standing to full attention. It has you licking your lips. Batting your eyelashes at him, you’re quick to pull your nightgown over your head, a smirk on your lips. A flimsy piece of linen conceals what lies between your legs, but it’s still enough for him to all but devour your almost bare frame.

“There,” you whisper, “now we are on equal grounds.”

Cregan takes a moment to look over you, licking his lips at the sight of your breasts fully exposed mto him. He knows you’re no maiden who’s completely untouched, you wouldn’t be as confident if you were, but it doesn’t stop him from appreciating the sight in front of him.

“Equal grounds, truly?” he asks you, taking a step toward you. One arm snakes around your waist, pulling you against him, as his other hand fists the linen of your smallclothes. “I think you still have an advantage over me, Princess. Because I have yet to see what lies beneath your undergarments.”

Your palms rest flatly against his chest, and you press a chaste kiss to his skin. “I will not stop you, Lord Stark,” you whisper, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“Then let’s make these ‘equal grounds’ a little bit more equal, hm?” Cregan whispers as well. He sinks to his knees with his mouth trailing a path down your body, licking and kissing over your skin until he reaches your navel. His large hands trail over your sides and thighs on his way down, the movement and sight making your breath hitch in your throat.

A shudder ripples through your body as he tugs your smallclothes down your legs, and while you watch him with your hands buried in his dark curls, his eyes are all but focused on what’s between your legs.

He drapes one of your legs over his broad shoulder, his dark blown eyes darting up to meet yours, and before you can make any teasing remark, his mouth is on you. A gasp catches in your throat. “Cregan, please,” you whimper, forgetting all courtesies the moment his tongue drags through your slit. There’s no softness, no gentleness in the way he all but devours your cunt, the previous teasing having made his patience run thin.

Your head tips back in pleasure as his tongue alternates between sliding into you and swirling around your pearl, noticing both options have you grind your hips against his face. The tip of his nose rubs so perfectly against your pearl when his mouth pays attention to your entrance, and Cregan’s fingers dig into your flesh with your body tensing up already, keeping you steady.

The Wolf of the North growls against your cunt as if he’s truly turned into one, devouring you with all he’s got, the sheer pleasure brought by his tongue and lips taking over you.

As you look down at him again, you find him already staring up at you, watching you carefully as you slowly but surely unravel on his tongue. It’s intense, but you’re captivated enough not to break eye contact.

“Gods, yes, I–” you whimper, and fall apart all over his tongue with a shudder. If it wasn’t for Cregan’s paws on your body, you would have lost balance by now, especially with the way he seemed to work his tongue in and out of you faster just in rhythm to his nose rubbing your pearl.

He pulls away from you slowly as your peak subsides, and with his beard and lips glistening with the remnants of your arousal, how could you not pounce on him right then and there?

He supports his body with one arm placed on the ground and stretches his legs as you push yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his strong neck. The taste of yourself on his tongue makes you moan against his lips before you deepen the kiss.

Cregan’s hard cock is nestled between your bodies, and you can’t resist wrapping your hand around it, stroking him once, twice, before you shift your hips and slowly sink down on him.

Muscular arms completely wrap around your waist, making you very well aware of the size difference between the two of you. You’re significantly smaller than him, and relish in the feeling of being safe and protected with him around. You two haven’t been too close upon your arrival in the North, but it seems that there has been a hidden attraction lingering for quite some time.

You know your hips would sooner or later become sore from pumping him with your core, hence you stick to rocking your hips back and forth with his cock stuffed deep inside you. It’s intimate and slow, but with the coarse hairs around the base of his cock dragging over your pearl with each swivel of your hips, you’re still racing for completion.

While he mouths along your jaw and the curve of your throat, one of his hands comes up to cup your breast. Rolling the perky bud between his index finger and thumb, the slight sting works wonders to amplify the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“By the Seven,” you whimper, grinding your hips against him with more determination.

There comes a sharp hiss in return from him, barely audible between the open mouthed kisses he presses to your collar bones. You’re clawing at his shoulders and neck by now, scratching it despite the sensuality of your movements, and it feels as though you’re even drawing blood. But he doesn’t care about that – he rather enjoys having a woman that doesn’t hold back.

Trailing his lips up to your throat, he nudges your chin with his nose, prompting you to tip your head back. “It’s not them you need to pray to right now, Princess,” Cregan rasps, a clear strain to his voice. “But perhaps I should take that as a compliment, hm?”

His words cause you to chuckle, and you’re grateful that he’s quickly distracted by kissing your throat again, because otherwise he might have noticed the heat his words bring to your cheeks. “If that is…” you trail off panting, burying your hand in his curls to tug his head back, forcing him to look up at you. The sight of his dark blown eyes hungrily gazing at you sends a shiver down your spine. You feel desired. “If that is a compliment, then I shall have to say it much more often.”

You’re not sure if it’s the fact you state wanting to compliment him more often, or if he’s just not used to having an appreciative lover in general, but your words seem to flip a switch inside of him. You quickly find yourself lowered on the fur blankets, warming your back while the flames heat up your skin and Cregan your blood.

Nestled between your legs, he’s growing more determined now, the sensual rocking of your hips clearly not enough for him, but you don’t mind it. As much as you enjoy being in control, setting the tone, you also revel in following the lead.

He’s propped up on one elbow, supporting himself as he thrusts into you, rolling his hips that make his cock drag so expertly against the sweet spot inside of you.

With one hand, you hold onto his broad shoulder, digging your nails into his skin, while the other gropes at his chest, teasing his bud just like he’s done with yours before. The feeling of his coarse hairs beneath your fingers feels somewhat strange at first, for Aemond hasn’t had as much chest hair as Cregan does, but it’s also comforting.

The familiar coil in the pit of your belly tightens slowly with his hips snapping into yours over and over again, split open by his hard cock.

“Will you fill me up, my lord?” you moan breathily, arching your back with your breasts pressing against his sturdy frame.

Cregan releases a choked groan at the question, and for a moment you can feel his hips stutter. You briefly wonder if you’ve pushed your luck too far, especially with him not replying immediately, until his raspy voice cuts through the heavy pants and moans.

“Only if you let me take you to wife, Princess.”

You inevitably clench down around him as a small, hiccuped gasp catches in your throat, resulting in Cregan drawing in a sharp breath. The haze in your eyes is replaced by an emotion you haven't felt in so long, an emotion he’s now giving back to you. And you let it flood you.

Your hand comes from his chest to his biceps, holding onto it as you gather your thoughts. His hips haven’t slowed down one bit, and he’s truly expecting you to answer as if he wasn’t repeatedly impaling you on his cock right now.

Staring up at him with wide eyes, your voice isn’t any louder than a whisper. “It would be foolish of me to turn this offer down,” you reply.

An impish smirk dances along Cregan’s features. “Is that meant to be a yes?”

“Y-Yes, it is, “ you whimper beneath him, arching your back once more.

The warmth of his body, his weight and scent cloud your every being, and his thrusts are determined and harsh enough to render you speechless, your mind and body completely claimed by him.

His hand snakes between your bodies, aiming for your sensitive pearl. Though the coarse hair around his cock has granted you at least a bit of friction, it’s not enough to bring you to your peak. His thumb circles over the little bud, fully coated with your arousal, and the thread in your belly is close to snapping.

“Then I just might,” he grunts in return.

Your body jerks at the sudden touch, but his muscular frame between your legs is enough to keep you pinned to the ground. “I need you… Cregan,” you whimper, bringing a hand behind his head to pull him down for a heated kiss. Your lips hardly part to release whimpers and moans, swallowing each other’s sounds of pleasure without any shame. “Let me give you a spare.”

It appears that your words give him a new-found vigor that leaves you gasping, the pace of his hips increasing. As you start to roll your hips against his thumb, you not only create some friction that feeds your pleasure but his as well. It’s not long after that your peak washes over you with a soft gasp, walls clenching around him like a vice.

With your small frame trembling between his strong arms, Cregan releases a strained grunt, his own peak being milked out of him by your cunt fluttering around his cock. He keeps on dragging his thumb over your sensitive pearl, prolonging your peak and the pleasure that comes with it.

You stare up at him with wide eyes as you’re milking him for every drop, because there’s something so vulnerable in this wolf of a man, towering over you with his skin glistening with sweat, so desperate to fill you with his seed and breed you.

The last jolts of his peak force him to languidly rut his hips into yours, desperately chasing the feeling of bliss that courses through your veins. His chest heaves with every heavy breath he takes, and the dark curls are damp and fall into his face.

Only as Cregan is certain there’s not one drop of his seed left inside of him does he slowly stop his ministrations, and the hand that has toyed with your bud seizes your hips, stilling them.

His erratic breaths fans over your sweaty skin with his lips pressing to your temple. The feeling of being whole with him doesn’t leave you, not when his weight pins you down and keeps you grounded, easing your tumbled mind.

“I shall welcome the arrival of any child you bear me,” Cregan says, inevitably breaking the silence.

A smile spreads across your lips as you wrap your legs around his hips, and your arms around his neck. “Be careful what you wish for. My children will certainly be just as stubborn as me.”

His heart is practically pounding against his ribs, and he can feel himself on the verge of being lost by your touch alone again. You make him go wild and feral, your bold and flirtatious nature bringing out another side to him that’s completely unexpected. And yet it feels so right.

The teasing banter brings a smile to his lips and a light to his gray eyes, your wit and humor shining through. “Let them be stubborn, then,” he chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “They only need to be half as feisty as you, and I shall be the happiest man in Winterfell.”

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makkir0ll · 5 months

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"hmm, is it green apple?"

you giggle in his arms, shaking your head no and smile as he leans down to press another kiss on your lips.

the past fifteen minutes had been spent trapped under his arms while he kisses your plump, flavourful, lips. it started out when you put on some chapstick and he asks for some. you knew that this was his way of getting a kiss, but when his lips press against yours the flavor is different than your normal vanilla, its fruitier. "what flavor is that?" he asks, pulling you closer to him to plant another kiss on your lips, "berry?"

"no" you say smiling as you await his actions. hoping that he does exactly what you expect him too.

and he falls into your trap. the next fifteen minutes are spent with his lips on yours as he guesses what flavor it could be. strawberry? mango? pineapple?

all no.

at this point all he could taste was his own spit on your lips. completely kissed away all the chapstick that coated your lips. he breaks the last kiss with a whine.

"y/n put some more on, i can't taste it anymore." he loosens his grip on your body as you shift underneath him to find the chapstick in your pocket.

"close your eyes, i dont want you to see the label." you tell him and he obliges, squeezing his eyes shut in a childish manner as you apply the chapstick on your lips.

once you're done you toss the tube away, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down, he's smiling. his lips press against yours yet again but this time it's different. the kiss is deeper, he cups your face and his toungue swipes on your lips and you open your mouth slightly to let the wet muscle enter. it takes your breath away and you start to feel dizzy from his touch and all the sensations happening around you. he pulls away, a thin string of saliva connected the two of you. your eyes are still closed, processing what happened when you hear him say,

"it's berry isnt it?"

you nod your head no, hoping he will kiss you like that again, and he does. but little do you know that he caught a glimpse of the berry graphic on the label when you pulled out the chapstick from your pocket.

HINATA SHOYO. (probably doesn't notice the label though tbh). BOKUTO, hanamaki, oikawa fucking tooru, sugawara (he knew from the start it was berry but goes along with the act to amuse you), akaashi (same as sugawara). NISHINOYA. (same as shoyo, genuinely continues to guess), ATSUMU. KITA FUCKING SHINSUKE (he knew from the first kiss, but realized that this made you happy). KUROO. SUNAAAAA.

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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 3 months

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When they call you clingy, so you distance yourself | Hyung Line Pt. 2

Warnings: Cursing

Pt1, Pt3 Maknaeline

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

BANGCHAN|

Chris groaned and put his head into his hands. He stared at the the screen in front of him.

8:28

He had decided to make today an early morning so he could call it an early night, but he wasn't even able to work on what he had actually intended to do because a trainee's mistake. Although he was heated in the moment he had apologized when he had run into the frightened guy in the canteen. It was an honest mistake when laptops looked exactly the same.

He had also realized that he was heated in the moment when you had come to visit him.

His fingers itched to text you an apology but he knew this was something that he needed to apologize for in person. So he shut his laptop and tucked it into his bag and decided to head home rather than starting a new project.

It was eating at his consciousness, the way he brushed you off so easily earlier just because of stress that had nothing to do with you. He reached over the couch in his studio to flick off the light.

A soft ruffling of fabric startled him slightly and he looked down to see your black coat draped over the couch of the same color.

"Its freezing." He mumbled grabbing it and quickly heading out of the building.

I was such a dick. She was so distraught she walked home in this weather without a coat.

Chris drove over to your apartment and parked haphazardly on the street. It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and a small part of him was worried about having something happen to his car, but he couldn't focus on that when he needed to focus on fixing things with you.

He pulled out his keys and found the small silver spare to your apartment.

"Baby?" Chris called out. He slipped off his shoes and he walked from the foyer into your kitchen, his black socks slipping a little on your freshly swept floors.

"Y/N?" Chris called out, flipping the light on in the kitchen. The box of trash bags was sitting on the counter and he placed them back under the sink. "Baby?"

Something was off. Chris felt it in his bones. He tried to steady his heart. Maybe you were asleep? If it wasn't to him, you tended to turn to your bed for comfort when you were sad.

He reached for your door handle out of habit of strolling into the guys room but paused to knock.

"Love?" He called out. He knocked for another minute or two, before turning the handle softly in case you were sleeping. "Baby, I don't know if your asleep but I'm coming in okay?"

Your room was empty, and the fairy lights you always kept on were off.

He flipped on the light and he felt his heart sink to his feet.

He immediately rushed out of your room and started looking through the cabinets and drawers and nooks and crannys of every other space.

Your apartment was bare minus the essentials.

In your guest room you had boxes neatly stacked in various places.

Chris felt tears crawl at his throat.

"Baby?" He tried calling out again. "Y/N this isn't funny! Say something!" He cried out.

He fumbled to grab his phone from his pocket.

His fingers shook as he called you.

The number you have dialed cannot be reached.

"No," He mumbled.

The number you have dialed cannot be reached.

"No," Chris mumbled. "No," He said again.

He felt his heart jump through his throat and he couldn't breathe.

His hands were shaking as he dialed up another number.

"Oi, Chris you coming home soon-"

"Fe-Felix." He choked out. He couldn't even continue without hyperventilating. "Fe-Felix I-I can't breathe. I-I can't-"

"I'm coming to you alright? I have your location I'll be there okay? Okay just try and calm down okay? I'll be there soon." Chris could hear the jingling of keys and the slamming of the door and Minho's voice in the background as Felix panted running to the car. "Stay on the phone Channie-hyung okay, I'll be right there."

"I-I can't breathe." He cried out.

"It'll be okay, I'll be right there hyung." Felix slammed his fist down on his car horn and yelled a string of profanities as another car blared their horn in the distance as well.

By the time Felix had arrived at your house Chris was an absolute mess.

Felix was instantly able to tell what was wrong with Chan when he saw the boxes and Chan desperately trying to unpack them.

"Hey-hey Chris calm down." Felix said as he grabbed onto his hyung's shoulders.

"S-She's leaving me." He cried out. "Felix, she's leaving me. She can't leave me. My heart -my heart can't take it. I don't want-want her to leave m-me."

Felix didn't know what to do as he watched his best friend completely shatter in front of him.

"Hyung I'm sure she is-"

"I-I called her clingy. I told her to leave me alone. I don't want to be alone." He whimpered. "I didn't mean it Felix. I didn't m-mean it." He whimpered his voice cracking. "I-I was stressed and-and I yelled- I called her ob-obsess- Felix, she can't leave me. I don't want to be alone."

Felix pulled out his phone and dialed your number. "Hyung calm down I'm sure she's just angry at the moment, it'll blow over. It'll blow over." He repeated as if convincing himself as well. He chewed on the edge of his thumbnail as your phone rang. Chris was collapsed on his and Felix pet his hair.

The number you have dialed cannot be reached.

Felix looked at the broken man in front of him and swallowed.

"It'll be fine. Y/N wouldn't break up with you over something like that, right?"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

MINHO|

"Do you really think it was necessary to yell at her?" Changbin asked as the guys were walking through the market. You had opted not to join and rather hang out with some of the girls from TWICE who were also in Paris for the same event the Kids had came for. The only problem was you had opted to do that for the entire week. You all were flying home tomorrow and Minho hadn't seen more than a glimpse of you other than a few pictures the girls had posted on their fake accounts, and the few pictures you had posted on your private account.

"Why would it not be necessary?" Minho asked.

"Because you're pissed at something that wasn't even her fault." The shorter male said and he picked up a random little trinket to look at, it was a little heavy so he used it as a makeshift dumbell for a second.

"Ya, she quite literally ruined my entire plan."

Changbin looked at Minho like he had grown a second head. "How the hell was she supposed to know you were trying to propose to her?!"

Minho pursed his lips and turned away and started walking.

Changbin moved his tiny legs to catch up with the cat eyed member.

Felix crossed paths with them and joined the conversation.

"Minho-Hyung you've been miserable all week. Just swallow your pride and apologize."

"I have nothing to apologize fo-"

"Ya! No offense Hyung but you're being a fucking idiot!" Felix said. The two Hyungs of Felix recoiled and looked at the sunshiny Aussie. "Sorry for my tone Hyung but it's true. All she wanted to do was spend time with you because she loves you. And to her it seems like you got upset because you didn't to spend time with you. And you got upset with her because you planned a super elaborate and flamboyant proposal because you love her and you weren't able to execute it. So basically, you are both pissed at each other because you love each other more than anything in this world. So tell me how that makes sense at all?"

Changbin nodded. "He's not wrong at all you're kind of an idiot."

Minho sighed and pouted.

"Which means you need to be the one to apologize because Y/N-ie actually has reason to be mad."

Minho's pout became even more noticeable.

Ugh...apologizing.

Felix seemed to read his elder's mind.

"Its either apologize or ruin your relationship. While it is super easy to replan a propsal, it sure as hell won't be able to replan your future if she walks out on you."

Minho felt that hit his heart hard, but still wanted to be stubborn. "What do you mean easy to replan a proposal? I spent months planning the one I intended to do."

Changbin rolled his eyes. "Ya! Y/N might be your girlfriend but you seem to forget she was all of our friend first. And I sure as hell know she would not care how you proposed to her. Even if you just did it the traditional and plain way of getting down on one knee and saying 'Y/N...will you marry me?" Changbin said mimicking Minho's voice.

Felix shook his head. "No it'd be more like 'Y/N marry me. You have no choice."

"No- 'Y/N, my cats need a mom. You are now their mom.'"

"'Y/N, our wedding is next Friday. Don't be late. Wear white." The happy boy mimicked with a deadpan face.

Changbin and Felix's antics were the thing that made Minho laugh all week. And the levity he felt now was what he felt with you always. And that made the absence of you hit him even harder.

"Can we go back to the hotel? I want- no I need to apologize." He said suddenly.

Changbin sputtered. "Never thought I'd hear that come out of your mouth ever."

Minho playfully shoved Changbin into Felix as they headed back in the direction of the hotel.

"So how do you think you'll propos-"

"Minho-ssi!" The guys stopped and they noticed Chaeyoung running towards them.

Minho felt his heart dip for a second. "What is it?"

"I-I went to get Y/N-ie for a girls night out but she wasn't in her room so I figured maybe she just stepped out to the convenience store with Tzuyu or Momo but she wasn't with them when they came back and Tzuyu said the last time she saw her was this morning after we had brunch." Chaeyoung tried to steady her voice. "And I called her but my calls aren't going throu-"

Minho didn't give Chaeyoung time to finish before he started running.

He didn't know where he was going, he didn't even really know where to find you.

All he knew is that he had to.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

CHANGBIN|

"Y/N." Changbin said. "Jagiya!" You ignored Changbin as you walked into your apartment.

He followed ensuite and was pouting. "Jagiya please talk to me. It's been three weeks."

"Mmmm. Nah. I don't feel like being clingy today." You said as you set your purse down and headed towards your bedroom.

"C'mon please? It was a stupid argument. I'm sorry. I was just upset."

"Hmm. And I'm upset right now too." You said as you started digging through your closest. You pulled out a cute yet sleek dress.

The same dress you had worn on your first date with Changbin oh so long ago.

"Babe?" Changbin asked as he saw you rummage through things on your vanity.

"Red or Pink?" You asked allowed. "Or I guess the question is should I do a matte red or a glossy red?" You turned to Changbin and gave an innocent look at him. "I don't know which one makes me look better."

"Stop that! Thats not funny. At all." Changbin said as he followed you into the bathroom. He stayed planted in the same spot even as you changed, shutting his eyes respectfully until you finished changing.

"Where are you going? Why are you getting dressed up."

You pulled your hair out of the braided updo you had it in and let it fall over your shoulders in a beautiful mix of loose curls and evem looser waves.

Changbin couldn't help but admire just how beautiful you looked right now. Matter of fact you always looked beautiful, but Changbin couldn't help but stare. Since this was the longest he had seen you in the past three weeks.

And seeing you get ready and dolled up worried him. It sparked a jealousy in him that he found himself all too familiar with these past few weeks. It was partly the reason he had snapped at you in the first place.

He had thought it was just a stupid argument but right now it seemed like it was so much more than that.

And it was slowly killing him. Had he really hurt you that bad?

"Jagiya where are you going?"

You ignored Changbin as you touched up your makeup slightly, wiping off the clear gloss you had and favoring a glossy red lip instead. You grabbed your favorite perfume - and Changbin's favorite on you - and sprayed it delicately over yourself.

You looked at your watch and looked up at Changbin. "I have to go I'm meeting someone at five."

You grabbed your purse and Changbin grabbed your wrist.

"W-What do you mean you're meeting someone?" You snatched your wrist away from him gently and made your way towards your car.

"W-Wait Y/N it's not a date is it? You're not going on a date? Wait please tell me you aren't."

"Changbin I have to go. It would be a bad first impression if I was late."

"Can you please at least tell me where you are going?"

You huffed. "I'm going to that one coffee shop next to the karaoke bar? The one we always used to go to when you had first asked me out." You said as you were strapping on a pair of heels.

Changbin felt like his world was collapsing.

"No. We aren't breaking up you're not allowed to do that."

You looked at Changbin with a confused - what the fuck are you on - type look.

"Changbin you realize people have the free will to do whatever they want right? Thats like me telling you you're not allowed to go to the gym anymore."

"You're not breaking up with me Y/N." He said his voice starting to waver. "You can't."

"Yup, Bin." You said as you opened the door and walked to your car. "Lock the door behind you, would ya?" You called out over your shoulder.

The muscular man quickly locked your door and came to the drivers side.

"Y/N," He said tapping on your window.

"Changbin can you make this quick? Like I said being late is a bad first impression."

"Who cares about first impressions! Y/N you can't date someone else!" He cries. "It was an argument! Are you really breaking up with me over this-"

"Damn Changbin I'm no-" Your phones started to ring and you answered it.

Changbin pouted at you as you spoke. Trying his best to listen to the conversation.

"Hello..." Why'd she say hello like that? So nicely... "Yes, I'm on my way right now just leaving my house..." She's already on the stage of letting him know her whereabouts? "Haha no no of course not...yeah....haha!" What could he possibly be saying to make her laugh that much? Only I can make her laugh like that...well I guess Jisung too but mainly me! "Uh I'll just get an iced vanilla latte with all my modifications- just ask Jiwon she'll know...." They have mutuals? "Yeah I'll be there soon....Yep! Can't wait to meet you either...mkay bye!"

Changbin felt his heart constrict as he watched you hang up and start your car.

You gave Changbin a small wave and pulled off, your tires screeching a little as you drove.

He quickly went to follow you. You wouldn't leave him. He wouldn't let you. Because you meant the world to him.

And without his world he would be nothing.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

HYUNJIN|

It had been a few days since Hyunjin had felt like he had spent time with you.

Because while you had been in his presence physically he felt like you had something on your mind.

You weren't all up on him like you usually were. And he missed that. He also missed you asking him if he liked your outfits. He missed the little twirl you would do asking if you looked okay; he missed being able to look at you lovingly while you did so; he missed being able to wait a little bit before he could comment how striking you looked; that little pause in time just to assure that he would be the one who could see you in that specific outfit longer than anyone else you would run into or hang out with, even if it was mere seconds more.

The way every part of you took up every aspect of his life was something he was so used to that he longed for it when he couldn't have it.

And for the past eleven days he longed for it.

So bad.

He missed you.

"Do you think I did something wrong?" Hyunjin asked Jisung as they sat down enjoying a cup of coffee together.

"I'm assuming so because she's treating me just fine. We actually just went to the movies the other day. Some random guy tried to hit on her and she made a comment about his hairline and how it showed his age and that shut him down real quick. It was actually fucking hilarious the way-"

"Did she say anything about me upsetting her?" Hyunjin asked, interuppting Jisung's tangent about his trip with the most loved girl of the band.

"Mm...now that I think about it, she made a comment about some other idol. I forget who she was talking about but I remembered her saying you were talking to them because she was just standing there waiting for you to finish and thats why she decided to drink that one drink. Because she didn't want to...how did she put it...look pathetic? Yeah, I think thats what she said. And she said it was no use because she looked pathetic throwing up all over Bangchan." He took a sip of his coffee. "I actually thought it was funny because Chan was saying he was trying to find an excuse to not have to wear that one suit jacket anymore because it was-"

"Jisung you're getting off topic." Hyunjin sighed. "Did she seem upset when she said that?"

Jisung shook his head. "I wouldn't say she seemed upset when she was talking about finding a use for her hands. I think she looked...off afterwards though. Especially whenever your name came up in ocnversation." He looked at Hyunjin pointedly. "But that wasn't that often. She may be your girlfriend but she is my soulmate so we have our own issues to discuss." He said taking another sip of his coffee. "Like all the drama in Hybe right now. Did you see- wait I'm getting off topic."

Hyunjin frowned. "So it was something I did..." He mumbled.

Jisung sniffed once. "Yeah probably." He said scratching his ear. "I can ask her if you'd like me to."

"No I thinks it okay, I'll find time to talk to her."

"Well they say there is no better time than the present because look who just walked in." The chubby cheeked boy nodded his head somewhere behind Hyunjin.

He turned around and saw you walking in with Felix. You walked up to the counter but didn't notice Hyunjin or Jisung sitting there.

Felix greeted the barista and ordered himself a drink while you looked at the menu.

Hyunjin felt the tiniest - the most miniscule pang of jealousy but it was quickly washed away because he knew that you only had eyes for him. You guys hadn't celebrated your first anniversary yet - it was in four days -but he knew just how much you loved him and he loved you.

And just that - he knew how in love you were with each other.

And thats why it hurt him so much to think he had hurt you.

Felix finished ordering and turned to you. Hyunjin had expected you to tell him your order and for Felix to relay it back to the barista but instead you spoke in Korean - hesitantly - but still with an immense amount of effort and obvious intermediate skill.

Felix corrected you on a couple of words, but after a few motivational words from the barista - words you obviously understood - you shined a bright smile and laughed.

"Y/N doesn't speak Korean." Hyunjin turned to Jisung, and the small quokka like boy pouted slightly. "Jisung."

"I walked in on Y/N-ie and Felix-" He blurted out. "God, I've been keeping that secret so long." He let out a breath and looked at Hyunjin's shocked face.

"Walked...in...?"

Jisung put a hand to his forehead. "Sorry I didn't finish my thought. I meant that I like...walked in on them while he was giving her secret korean lessons." He said wiggling his eyebrows.

"Jisung you're not helping my paranoia."

"I was wiggling my eyebrows because of the reason. She said she wanted to learn Korean so when it came time to meet your family she would be able to communicate well with them. It seems like she's actually pretty damn good at it too. Shes a fast learner according to Felix."

Hyunjin groaned. "She's so fucking cute but of all people in our groups she decided to get lessons from Lix? Did she never watch the survival show." He chuckled.

"Yeah...I guess that means I can tell you the actual reason she's upset with you now right?" Jisung said.

Hyunjin's head shot up and he looked at the younger boy expectantly.

"She overheard you calling her clingy. With the idol and his girlfriend..." He looked down and his voice dropped a little. "Its been eating at her a lot. Especially the girl's comment about foreigners and stuff. She was a total bitch for saying that because now it's been making her rethink everything. Because she seems to be convinced that it would be best for your reputation and your future if she ended things with you."

Hyunjin felt his throat constrict slightly. "S-she didn't mean that. She doesn't mean that. She can't."

Jisung hmmed in acknowledgment. "Hyung...she has it rough you know? The pedestal people in our industry put you on - and even in other industries and other countries -is the pedestal you're put on by the same people she consistently is surrounded by when accompanying you. The same people who write all those hateful comments about her on your posts and send even more hateful comments to her private account."

Hyunjin's eyes widened, and his fingers twitched slightly. "What comments? She hasn't told me about any...hate...comments..."

Jisung sighed. "She doesn't want to worry you. And I think she believes those comments too...she can't think of anything else to believe."

Hyunjin felt a knot place itself in his throat to stay as he walked you watch out the coffee shop with Felix trailing you. The thought of your insecurities bothered him immensely. The thought of you thinking you weren't worthy of him when it was the complete opposite; when it was him who wasn't worthy of you. He wished you could see yourself the way he saw you.

And he wished you believed him when he said all the things said.

Believe me when I call you beautiful. When I say I love you...

And if you don't want to in me...

Believe in us.

2K notes · View notes

iceunhie · 6 months

Text

HEART TO HEART — aventurine

premise ⁠☆ the five times aventurine bares his heart out to you, and the one time it works in his favor (or, in which aventurine says he loves you, in his own little ways.)

a/n ⁠☆ lovesick aventurine, i repeat super lovesick aventurine this is not half-assed, reader is the same reader from make a bet !!

The first time Aventurine opened up to you, he thinks that you looked like what starlight could be in human form.

He speaks your name like a victory falling upon his lips, a measured weight in its cadence. Aventurine relishes in the way you look alert, placing your attention on him (and him alone), sticking to his side like the faithful subordinate that you are.

He's come to learn that you don't exactly do friends—you are the very image of professionalism, never crossing the lines you shouldn't cross; and if he’s not careful, you could disappear at the slightest touch, just like starlight. (Would it kill you to stay just for him?)

“Have I ever told you that you look prettier when you smile?”

You pause from your game, looking up from the chessboard you and your co-worker, boss, and give him a look that one can truly only enjoy if they were either a masochist or someone who enjoyed another's disgust of them. “About 25 times now, Aventurine.”

“You've been counting? I didn't know you loved my praise that much.”

“Does every word that comes out of your lips lack sense, or is it just me?”

“Haha, it's just you.”

“Lucky me.” you roll your eyes. Aventurine's eyes melt, like butter in the sun.

Sometimes he feels the urge to always compliment you—because this is the only way for you to keep your eyes on him, to only look at him, and Aventurine has always loved looking at your eyes.

(If he kept looking, would he convey his heart to you?)

You scrunch up your face. Cute. “What?”

“Nothing.” Fondness bleeds from within him, the Kakavasha of old seeping into the cracks of his hollow shell. Aventurine plays gambles, risks death, yet this feeling of elation is something that triumphed in all of that.

He wonders if you notice; if you know that his honeyed words are genuine, as genuine as a liar like him can be. Aventurine wonders if you can tell that every poke and prod hides the underlying meaning of desperation—the words he can never bring himself to say because he thinks he's far too unworthy (for you). Still…

“I hope you know that it's true.” Just this once, he’ll let you see, just this once. “I mean it. You look prettier when you smile.”

Just this once, Aventurine thinks. He’ll bare his heart to you just this once. It's a gamble, a risk; a gamble he wants to risk.

And indeed, perhaps this is what Gaiathra’s blessing is for.

He sees you bristle like a cat, so wary—but he sees the flush coating your cheeks, reaching well up to the tips of your ears, and he knows he's won. Checkmate. “That's such a lame compliment. Is that best you executives can do?”

“Mm, wouldn't you like to know?” (To love is such an unpredictable thing.)

Aventurine may be a liar, but Kakavasha isn't, because Kakavasha strung together his remains in hopes of perceiving you.

In hopes of loving you.

—

Aventurine has only three words to describe himself: loser, liar, and murderer.

He can think of other words too, like Sigonian, IPC lapdog, coward, unworthy… a plethora of ugly, demeaning, visceral words— it makes his throat bubble with acid, coiling ang churning under the weight of his own existence. Disgusting.

There's another, too. Greedy. He's greedy. Whether as Kakavasha or Aventurine, the hunger to consume all lingers fresh in his mind. The strong takes all, and the weak is left to suffer. It's a need that knows no end, embittering all he cherished, cherishes. Like an iron chain upon his neck. He's greedy for solace, freedom; death, and—

“Aventurine, are you okay?” you.

How truly fortunate he is to behold your expression, when your concern is as slim as the chances of a collision of planets; when the expressive range of your emotions towards him range from either exasperation or irritation.

His smile feels rotten today, unbearably sweet. The smile of a thief. A liar. A Sigonian. “Are you worried about me?”

“You…” the traces of care don't slip from your expression despite the annoyance that betrays your tone. “Be serious here—you haven't been sleeping, have you? What is it? Is Sir Diamond assigning you yet another impossible mission?”

“No. Nothing of the sort, my friend.” His voice is flat. He doesn't know what's more agonizing. Knowing you care (and always have cared) for him, or knowing that he's making you go through all this trouble just to care for him.

He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “It's just a minor upset, don't worry.”

(How could you even care about someone like him? Is this love? Care? How could you look at him like he's worthy of being perceived? He is a liar, a cheat, a coward.)

He doesn't want to be indebted to you. Rather, he doesn't want you to see him; vulnerable, weak. Allowing you to freely enter his study as he's buried under piles of duty bound work just to come across one of the rare times where he's just Kakavasha—alone, weak, and fickle.

(Because as Kakavasha, Aventurine cannot hide his yearning for you, for deceit is unworthy of you; just like he is for you.)

Worst of all, Aventurine feels that if you see him, you’ll find out just how ugly he truly is. You'd slip away from him, like starlight. Out of reach; never to be seen again.

(Humans cannot survive without the light. Aventurine is starting to understand why.)

“Then I'll get you something to eat at least, so you can-”

“No, wait.” He speaks your name like a plea, and you stay. Relief floods through his senses.

Aventurine thinks that perhaps because of the vulnerability he's exposed, you've even become softer. Because why else would you look like that, looking at him like he's worth something? “What is it, Aventurine?”

“Can you stay by my side?” There's a crack in his voice that he wishes to hide, but you don't mind anyway. “Just this once.” Please.

A part of him hurts, having to beg. It reminds him all too much of days when the commodity code on his neck defined the crux of his existence; it is all he will be, will continue to be, all he is allowed to be. But Aventurine is no longer Kakavasha; hiding away from the world.

“...Okay.” Aventurine’s heart throbs when he sees your concerned expression. You know better than to ask questions, something he deems both a boon and a bane. “I'll stay. As- As much as you want.”

Why is he just like a fool whenever he's with you?

They say that to covet what must not be coveted is one’s downfall, and Aventurine is no different. His eyes trail over your form, every inch of the stardust that make you. “Thank you. Really.”

Aventurine has only three words to describe him: liar, loser, and murderer. There may be others, but this defines the very tapestry of his lamentable existence, from the moment he was brought forth upon the world; that of which no longer exists, dissolving like the sand of Sigonia’s deserts.

“Don't thank me, Aventurine. Just—get some rest. I'll be there when you wake up.”

“Nn. You're too kind. Should I double that paycheck of yours next month?”

He can hear you scoff, that bit of mirth you let slip reinvigorating him, sustaining him. “....Sweet dreams, Aventurine.”

And if Aventurine strains his mind enough, deludes himself enough; he can hear you say in a voice that's tender, warm; like the warm embrace of his sister, honeyed Avgin spilling from her lips. Brimming with love. Brimming with care.

‘May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you,’

Aventurine is a Sigonian lapdog, an unfettered gambler. He needs no tears, for there will be none to shed in his victory. He has never lost, and sees no need to shed tears for something that he will never experience. (His hand still shakes, betting on his life.)

‘keeping your blood eternally pulsing.’

He feels your fingers brush against the strands of his hair, taking off his glasses. Aventurine stills. Kakavasha falls, full of love, loving you.

‘…may your journey be forever peaceful,’

He watches you, staying by his side; and Aventurine can't help but add another name to define him.

‘and your schemes forever concealed.’

A fool. (a lover.)

Two system hours later, Aventurine wakes to the scent of lavender scented candles and a blanket covering his body, with the paperwork neatly handled, your writing scribbled on some of the pages.

Get well soon.

—

Envy is a face Aventurine has long grown accustomed to seeing.

He saw it as Kakavasha; the look others give when they see his eyes, when they look at his profile. As Aventurine, he sees it in the eyes of space traders as they gaze upon his wealth, how the eyes of others fall onto him as he walks past.

Others get consumed by it, others deny it; Aventurine embraces it. He knows the feeling of having nothing and wishing he could have things others can have with little effort.

But the fact that he also wears its mask is ironic, especially given the subject of his envy.

The third time Aventurine bares his heart out to you, it had been an accident.

He shouldn't be jealous, envious of those who get to help you with the IPC’s missions. It is the right, sensible thing to do; because you make him feel illogical, unable to comprehend in the haze of longing.

(Perhaps lovesickness isn't too far off a word.)

This is why you make him break free of his self-imposed apathy at seeing you off. Aventurine checks the file you'd be heading off to, letters in pristine print along with his signature, an indication of his approval. Pier Point. The name besides yours that indicate that you will be travelling together burns him like scalding iron, stinging like a brand upon his skin. Something green and uncomfortable in him roars.

In a sense of uncharacteristic recklessness and perhaps brought upon by his longing; Aventurine ends up seeing you off.

“I'll get going now- Aventurine….?” your words falter when you watch as your co-worker strides toward you, terribly fast. “I thought you weren't coming to see me.”

“I can't have my dearest friend leave without seeing their handsome colleague’s face.” he says, like a liar. Small mercies to his ability to divert his inner feelings—and to not think about the fact that seeing you makes his heart throb in an ache no hunger can satiate.

You scoff, and thankfully you don't seem that irritated. If anything, you're in a good mood today. Even let him see the way your head tilts to bite back a smile. “How fortunate of me then.”

(He is.)

“Extremely.” he calls your name like a wager, seeking an answer. “How long are you going to be away this time?”

“Almost a month, maybe. I was told that since the Pier Point Incursion, many of those under your department have been stationed to help sustain the damage.”

“...I see. My well wishes to you then, friend. Seems you've got your work cut out for you.”

He's sulking, and you can't help but laugh. Like a golden retriever. “Why so glum? Don't tell me you'd miss me.”

And for all his grace at maintaining his carefully crafted mask, Aventurine's whole world stops when he hears the sound. “How could anyone ever not miss you?”

You pause mid-laugh. Aventurine feels his face heat. He slipped up. Again, because of you. Because you always made him feel as though the universe could stop and end with you; and that this rotten hunger that gnawed at his bones might just be that he cared for you far too much for his own good.

…And now he felt like he wanted to fall back into a sandpit and hide there forever. “Is that what you think, Aventurine?”

The way you say his name is so intoxicating. It sounds hesitant, seeing through him in an instant.

“Maybe.” He can't look at you right now, or else he'll imagine it—how could you ever feel the way he feels for you? When you were you and he was… him. “I'm afraid I've been too reliant on my closest colleague.”

“Then come with me next time.” you look at him as though he'd break at any moment; tender. There's something else, too. “If you'd miss me that much.”

You flash him a cheeky, lovely smile, and Aventurine loves, loves, and loves.

How unfair you are, capable of reducing him to bits; bringing him to your light and making his heart set off like fireworks in the night.

For now, he will be Aventurine—he could never resist such a tempting offer, not when its weight was far more valuable than any treasure of all.

He smiles, business-like in nature, one used to deceive, to lie. But Aventurine—Kakavasha smiles in fondness, in adoration. “It would be my pleasure.”

—

Aventurine has always thought that the space in his heart is empty because it was meant to be.

Because he is not worthy of feeling—he is a tool to be used; every part of him taken away and exploited away by others at their whim. In short, he is his best bargaining chip at any stability in his life.

“Aventurine, you’ll catch a cold if you keep forgetting to remove your coat.”

But you don't think that way, and it confuses him, to say the least. Like a shooting star, traces of your existence are specks in his life that have become far too important for him to let go.

Whether it be indulging in his whims of poker, allowing him to see the sight of your expressions in embarrassment and resignation, or the subtleties that have led him to believe (at least, he hopes to believe) that you do care.

And each time, Aventurine embeds your name into his heart even further, dreams of you in the far corners of his heart reserved only for the dead he needed to bury. His feelings, his family, and this growing attachment to you that became too difficult to hold back.

Even now, as you hand him a towel and take his wet coat out of the way, Aventurine doesn't know if this is a blessing or a curse. You are always like this—overwhelmingly blinding, tethering himself to you without warning with your compassion. “I won't get sick.”

“Uh huh.” your eyebrows raise, and you take him inside. “That’s what all the people who get sick after being soaked in the rain say.”

“Well, aren't you just charming.”

“Thanks, I'm told it's one of my defining qualities.”

He laughs, genuine. You're probably the only one to be able to bring out this part of him. “Such an angel you are.”

“Yes, yes, very much.” You smile with faux sweetness, though Aventurine's heart stutters anyway. “Stop patronizing me and dry off already.”

“Alright, no need to get so fussy.” he throws up his hands in surrender, and he waits until you leave his quarters, strides measured as you give him privacy to change.

Aventurine wonders if you know just how much he loves you. Because he knows he does.

Recently, Kakavasha has come to a dangerous conclusion.

Perhaps the reason the space in his heart is empty was because you had been dictated to fit in it, and that Aventurine knows he’d never want you to leave.

—

Grief haunts Aventurine like a ghost, an old friend. Anguish whispers in Kakavasha’s ears and dictates its path to be his destiny.

But love comes in the form of Aventurine’s adoration for you.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to die?”

“No.”

A lie. Aventurine has always had a morbid, twisted curiosity of death. Death is the earliest lesson taught to him, among the lessons of Mama Fenge and the cruel acts of the Katicans. Death is his companion, a reminder that his life is merely defined by his usefulness, his luck.

“Why are you asking?” It is a mundane question, spoken atop the glamourous balcony as you and him look down at the glittering streetlights in Penacony below, watching the people of the dreamscape live the life their reality never brought them.

“No reason. Just… I wondered.” You hum, and Aventurine notes the miniscule shiver of your body, the lowering of your gaze; you're thinking about something again. (He wonders if you'd let him listen to what you want to say.) “What death might be like in this dreamscape.”

An underlying feeling of tension. You know what Aventurine's been up to. What he's been searching for in order to act out the IPC’s plan. Though it infuriates you to know he's doing this to himself, you're powerless to do anything about it. There is a wall between you that Aventurine refuses to cross.

Instead, his silent question comes in the form of his coat draped around your back. There's no motion of rejection from you, which makes him feel nice—even if it's just for a while. “Thank you.”

You didn't need to thank him. Aventurine knows that he'd do anything for you anyway even if you don't ask a thing. But you do anyway, because you were lovely and blinding; and he yearns to grasp at even a single wisp of your reality.

“For what it's worth,” Aventurine says, the characteristic lilt of amusement in his voice gone, replaced with something authentic, “I wouldn't want you to die. Such a thing would be unfortunate for someone with lots of promise in the economic field.”

You glance at him with a funny look, exasperated but not surprised. “Well, I'm glad you think so highly of me...?”

He cringes at that, huffs out a weak ‘naturally’ as he stares out at the distance. The wall between you weakens.

“And, well, the sentiment is the same for me. I don't want you to die either.” you say, and the glow of the streetlights illuminate your face, and Aventurine's eyes don't leave your presence, wanting to burn the sight to his irises, to his pupils; never letting a fiber of your being go unloved. Retaining you and keeping you close when his hands cannot.

(If only you knew.)

“I wouldn't go down without a fight.” he says, and Aventurine takes you in—the ways in which you gaze upon the scenery below, watching how you chuckle as you hear the loud countdown to the fireworks, the way your voice has always been the light, his adoration for you a stone to grab on in his gamble in life.

There's silence. Loving you is like loving the way the air fills your lungs as you breathe, because loving you was as natural as breathing in the sandy dunes of the place he once called home, as natural as the Avgin that filled his ears, and loving you is everything to him, for Kakavasha was a dreamer, and you are his dreams personified.

Loving you reminds him of home, because you have burrowed your way into his bones, his lungs and his skin, and Kakavasha fills himself with your existence and lives. Loves.

He speaks your name like it's the last thing he could ever do, and that through you, Kakavasha lived, and Kakavasha loved you.

And like always, it's there. Your attention, on him, as he always knows it will be (and as he always hopes it shall be.) as you gaze at him like he's the brightest star in the sky. Or maybe it's the light refracting in your eyes. Aventurine doesn't really care which. “What is it?”

The wall between you two disappears completely, and Kakavasha begins anew, his heart undone.

When Aventurine finally bares his heart to you for the fifth time as the burst of fireworks ricochet across the skies, he hopes those three words will reach you.

bonus: the one time aventurine bares out his heart to you, and he gets rewarded.

Aventurine’s hair has always reminded you of the color of gold.

It is the color of the sunlight as it gently basks against your skin, the color of expensive champagne the man next to you so favors, and the color of the edges of his sunglasses.

(You've always been fond of yellow.)

“Aventurine?” you say, tone light, urging him to wake up. He's truly relentless, adamant on sulking as though his most valuable treasure would slip away from his grasp like you are right now because you were running late. “Can you let me get up now?”

“Good morning to you too.” purple eyes greet your form and an arm winds itself around your waist, pulling you even closer. “And unfortunately for you, I'm afraid I don't want to.”

“I'll be late. You know Jade hates tardiness-”

“-And I would be devastated to not have my lover by my side and leave me heartlessly.” Aventurine feigns, the falsity of his hurt not affecting you at all.

“You…” You frown at him, and Aventurine kisses the crease of your eyebrows of your face, enjoying the way your cheeks flush the like burn of alcohol down one’s throat. “You're so insufferable.”

“Mhm, whatever helps you let out that ire of yours.” he looks at you like he would the most precious of ores, the most valuable of cards—Aventurine looks at you unabashedly, wholly, in affection.

“Will you ever let me be on time?”

“Would you ever let me stop loving you?” he presses a kiss to your palm, tender as his hand traces circles on your palm. Aventurine already knows the answer.

“Thats two completely different things.” you sigh, but it's exasperatedly fond, and Aventurine’s heart skips a beat. He finds his answer when you press a chaste kiss upon the edge of his mouth. “Don't answer a question with a question.”

“It's a great conversation tactic, though. And to answer your question, no, I don't think I will.”

“Kakavasha.” You warn. His name on your lips feels a little like salvation, and Aventurine feels a warm ache fill his stomach, blooming into something not so dissimilar to devotion.

With you, there is no Aventurine of Strategems, no Aventurine of the Ten Stonehearts. All that remains is Kakavasha, one that loves you, and one that you love too.

Aventurine laughs, and the die is cast. “Let's make a bet then.”

“Ugh, not another one of those.” you groan, but you make no notion to refuse anyway.

“Sway my heart enough to let you go.” he smirks, cunning as ever. You roll your eyes, though it's nothing if not affectionate, determined glint shining in your eyes just like starlight.

“Oh, that's way too easy. Deal.”

Recently, he's come to a conclusion; Aventurine thinks that if it's with you, no gamble is worthier than this.

(With you, Aventurine is whole, and he is home.)

end notes im gonna kms i hate the ending like actually hate it this fic is the product of boundless hatred and the urge to never show it to the light ever but here i am

#mhie's spirals #—stellaronhvnters #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine HSR #aventurine x reader #everyone say thank you to ieyn because she was the one who said the ending had to be fluff instead of aventurine dying in reader's arms ^^

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waywardxrhea · 1 month

Text

butterfly effect - Spencer Reid

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

part two of Casual

Spencer and Reader's first meeting is revealed along with how both are feeling in the aftermath of the restaurant debacle in part one.

word count: ~6.4k

content: 18+ minors DNI! language, angst! fluff (oh the fluff in this one is sickly sweet - i told y'all i don't like unhappy endings)! smut (i simply could not help myself because i've had this one line stuck in my head for weeks and it just so happened to transition very well in this piece i'm not sorry): oral [male receiving], unprotected PIV, multiple orgasms mentioned.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

now playing: butterfly effect by Sophie Holohan also a hint of vulnerable by Leanna Firestone <3

Then…

You watched as drops of condensation raced down the side of your iced coffee cup, lost in your own thoughts as you ignored the hustle and bustle on the sidewalk to your left. It was a sunny morning on your day off and you were at your favorite local coffee shop, trying to ignore your work responsibilities for as long as possible. You were doodling in the rustic looking parchment journal you had found at a thrift store when you went shopping with Celeste and Maddie yesterday, and you had become enthralled with butterflies once more.

You had a hyperfixation on the beautiful creatures when you were younger and in some circles were ashamed to admit how much you knew about them. They were just so fascinating and beautiful, how could you not adore them? You knew that this cafe’s outdoor seating area was teeming with them during April due to their migratory pattern as well as all of the plant life they had blooming within all of the scattered pots seated throughout the patio, so it was the perfect time for catching glimpses of the creatures you had lost touch with for many years.

A beautiful one with black and white coloring and long trailing wings fluttered by and you quickly snatched your cup and journal up as you went to follow the beautiful creature. If your memory served you right it was a Zebra Swallowtail, one you hadn’t seen since your childhood, and you were determined to capture its beauty in your new journal.

Your journey following the butterfly was short-lived though, when as you quickly exited the patio’s gate you ran smack into someone! You felt your condensation coated cup leave your grip as it was crushed between your body and the stranger’s and your eyes went wide as the drink spilled down their front, completely soaking through the button up they were wearing. And to add insult to injury, the manilla folder that had been in their hands was now absorbing the liquid on the ground.

With your now empty hand flying to cover your mouth, you began profusely apologizing, saying, “Oh my gosh I am so, so, so, so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going! You see, I saw this really pretty butterfly that I wanted to sketch and I didn’t want it to get away but now it has and I completely ruined your shirt and your file and you were probably on your way to work and now you’re going to be late because of me and smell like coffee the rest of the day and oh my gosh I am so sorry I am mortified right now!” By the end of your rambled on apology you had covered your face with your journal, afraid to look up at the person you had run into, especially after such a rambling and childish apology…

What surprised you was the person letting out a soft laugh in response to your rambling before telling you, “If you were going after something in the name of science I can’t exactly fault you for running into me. I likely would have done the same.”

“You- What…?” you asked, risking a peek over the top of your journal, only to see the smiling face of a boyishly handsome man around your age with cropped and almost curly hair that fell slightly over his eyes. He was gorgeous. His melodic laugh rang out once more and it prompted you to lower the journal to your side fully, risking a glance at the damage your drink did.

You cringed as you looked at his once pristine and pressed shirt, but your anxious thoughts were interrupted by him telling you, “You were going after a butterfly that you wanted to make an observation of in its habitat. As a man of science I can’t fault you for doing so.” He bent over to pick up his now thoroughly soaked file and offered a small smile as he came back up and added, “I’m Spencer by the way. I don’t exactly follow the science of lepidopterology, but it’s a fascinating subject. Do you study them for a living?”

You offered your name in turn before saying, “Oh, uh, no I- It’s just a sort of hyperfixation I’ve had on and off since I was a kid,” You felt an intense blush creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks after the admission crossed your lips and you wished that the earth would open up beneath you and save you from yourself. Instead of just keeping your mouth shut though, you rambled on, “And now it’s probably ruined your day and routine and again I am so sorry! Were you heading in? I could buy your drink! It’s the least I can do after ruining…everything.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, I’m getting drinks for more than just me,” Spencer replied as he began opening his satchel bag and pulling out a sweater vest which he put on and covered the coffee stain on his front. “See, good as new. I have a change of clothes at the office anyway. Don’t worry about the shirt.” He waved the folder to get the droplets of coffee off and added, “And don’t worry about the file either. I have it memorized. Eidetic memory. Comes in handy for times like this.”

“Right…” you said, making a mental note to look up what that meant rather than assuming. You nodded awkwardly before gesturing toward the door and heading that way, telling him, “Well I’m gonna head back inside to get a drink to replace the one I dropped. We can at least discuss how I could repay you while we wait?”

“If you insist,” Spencer said before following your lead into the small shop, the little bell above the door ringing out to alert the workers that someone had entered.

As you waited in line, you cleared your throat and asked awkwardly, “So, uh…what do you do for work?”

“I work for the FBI at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We basically use what’s called profiling to determine why people do what they do, specifically in the realm of killing people,” he told you as if it was a regular old nine to five and not what sounded like the most interesting job in the world.

“I- Wow! That sounds so cool!” you stuttered out awkwardly. You mentally kicked yourself at the stupid reply, but before you could rectify the situation it was Spencer’s turn to order. You breathed a sigh of relief at the out and began scouring your brain for ways you could repay Spencer for the mishap outside.

Once you ordered your replacement drink, you cleared your throat and shyly asked Spencer, “How about as an apology I take you to dinner? You choose where. I just feel really, really bad about spilling my drink on you…”

Spencer was silent for a beat before telling you, “I would like that. Thank you.” So before you two parted ways, Spencer wrote his number in your journal beside another butterfly you had been sketching and you sent him off with a warm smile while what felt like a kaleidoscope of butterflies flew around in the pit of your stomach.

Your dinner with Spencer got delayed when the BAU was requested to work a case in Oregon, but you were fine with that as it gave you more time to grapple with the fact that, no, this wasn’t a date. This was simply a business transaction because you had ruined the man’s clothes and case file.

When Spencer returned after closing the case, you were finally ready to face the gorgeous man in what you hoped would be a platonic business-like way. That was until you saw his face again and heard his what turned out to be contagious laugh. He told you all kinds of fun facts about butterflies he had learned in preparation to have something to talk with you about and you practically had heart eyes as you listened to him ramble on and on about stuff even you didn’t know about the beautiful creatures.

The spark you thought was there turned out to be mutual and by the end of the night, Spencer was back to your apartment and between your legs, sending you into the most blissful state you had been in in years. As you learned during your dinner, Spencer had a vast understanding of the human body and mind and it turned out that those skills translated to the bedroom as well. Needless to say, he had completely exhausted you and you fell asleep in his arms under your duvet, your legs entangled as you clung onto him like a koala.

Waking up the morning after your dinner, Spencer began to come to his senses as he smelled bacon and pancakes being cooked and coffee lingering in the air of your apartment. At first he relaxed into the plush memory foam once more before he sat up with a start. What was he doing? He knew from current and former BAU members’ experiences, relationships while working for the unit were hard. The hours were odd and long, the mental toll of cases could be heavy at best and all consuming at most, and statistically the odds of someone in a relationship with an FBI agent - specifically a member of the BAU - becoming a target of a pissed off unsub was high. What if an unsub took you as a hostage in order to get to him? What if an unsub killed you as some cruel form of punishment for going after them? That wasn’t something he was willing to shoulder onto you, he thought as a shudder shook his whole body.

But there was no way he wanted to let you go from his life altogether, so when he emerged into the combined dining and kitchen area to see you cooking in just a t-shirt and underwear, Spencer cleared his throat and greeted you with a good morning before asking tentatively, “Hey uh… I was just thinking… With my job with the BAU being what it is, could we…would you mind if we kept this casual? I had an amazing time with you at dinner and in…other places, but it’s historically difficult for an FBI agent to maintain a proper relationship and give their partner the attention they deserve while also giving cases the attention they need. Would…would that be something you would be okay with?”

Spencer studied your body language as you concentrated on flipping the pancakes in front of you, doing so effortlessly as you nonchalantly replied, “If that’s what is easiest then yeah. I had a really good time last night too.” Relief flooded Spencer’s body at your response and he relaxed into the dining chair a bit more before standing up to pour himself some coffee and prepare it how he liked, content with the new arrangement he found himself in with the gorgeous and thoughtful woman in front of him.

So that’s how it went on for the following months. Between Spencer’s cases and your shifts at work, the two of you managed to see each other more and more. Sometimes the evenings started at restaurants and some were initiated at either of your apartments when you were feeling particularly needy.

Even though at first you were truly content with keeping things with Spencer casual, as time went on, you had started to develop feelings for the man. Feelings that sex alone couldn’t tame and that’s when you realized what you knew all along. That those butterflies you felt in your stomach during your first encounter were never a good sign.

Now…

A knock on your apartment door broke you from your trance of zoning out whatever was playing on Netflix at the moment and you looked up at the clock hanging on the wall to realize it was nearly three o’clock. You had spent most of your day off zoned out in front of the TV lost in your own thoughts when you were supposed to go to lunch with Celeste hours ago. Looking at your phone you noticed all the missed calls and texts and rubbed your tired eyes as you groaned in frustration.

The knock sounded once again before you heard Celeste’s voice calling out, “Are you in there? Do I need to call the cops for a welfare check?”

You attempted to smooth down your pjs before opening the door and telling her quietly, “No, I’m here. I’m sorry I flaked on lunch I didn’t mean to I just-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Celeste was wrapping you in a hug to end all hugs and asking softly, “What’s wrong?”

This simple question was always your downfall because the second that it was asked the floodgates opened and you began sobbing into Celeste’s shoulder. All of the tears you had denied yourself over the last week and a half finally began to freefall as you clung to your friend like she was a buoy out at sea and she was the only thing keeping you afloat.

Celeste managed to maneuver the two of you back into the apartment and closed the door as you began rambling through your tight and broken voice, “At the restaurant…when we celebrated Adri…Spencer was there. We…we had sex in the bathroom but then he just finished and left me hanging. No explanation. Then I overheard his coworker call me Spencer’s love toy. He…he didn’t shut down the comment. I just thought I meant more to him than that… So I panicked and left. Almost had a panic attack outside when he came to talk with me. I thought he was going to comfort me but then he just reminded me, ‘no attachments.’” This whole spiel took you the greater part of five minutes to get out between sobs and trying to catch your breath, but Celeste being patient as always gave you her attention the whole time. You took a final deep breath before finishing with, “I really, really like him Celeste… I was a fool to think I meant more to him.”

Celeste thought on your words for the few moments it took to lead you toward the couch. She sat down and brought your head to rest on her thigh, gently detangling your hair with her fingers as she said, “I’m sorry that he made you feel that way. And I’m sorry we didn’t notice something was wrong before now. We’re your friends, we should be there for you through stuff like this.”

“It’s nothing you did,” you quickly told her. “Work kept me occupied this week so I tried to just ignore everything but then today I guess it all caught up to me…” Celeste nodded and you relaxed as she continued to mess with your hair.

Her silence was broken when she finally said, “Not to play Devil’s advocate, because what he did was not okay, but have you thought about why he came out to check on you when you left?”

This question caused you to furrow your eyebrows together and think about it. Why did he come outside? None of the other BAU members were leaving. It was just him… You cleared your throat and admitted, “I uh… I didn’t think about that.” There was a beat of silence before you told her, “I haven’t told you guys much about his job besides that he works for the FBI, but he’s what they call a profiler. He can tell a lot about a person just by reading their body language. Maybe…”

When you trailed off, leaving your sentence unfinished, Celeste offered, “Maybe he knew you were upset from your body language so he came to comfort you?”

You thought about it for a second before telling her, “I mean maybe, but that wouldn’t explain-” Your sentence died in your throat as another knock sounded through the apartment. “Did you text Maddie or Adri?” you asked Celeste.

“No,” Celeste replied as you began pulling yourself into a sitting position. “I’ll see who it is.”

As she did you started to realize how dehydrated you were, so you slowly made your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As you stood, a dizzying feeling filled your head and darkness lined your peripheral vision, but you tried to ignore it as you made your way to the fridge. You vaguely heard the exchange happening at your door, but your attention was caught when Celeste called your name to get your attention. Looking up from your glass and Brita, you saw Spencer in your doorway with a bouquet of flowers and your heart gave an irregular stutter in your chest. “He says he wants to talk to you. Is that okay?” Celeste asked and you could hear the protective nature in her voice that Spencer was no doubt picking up on too.

“Y-yeah,” you replied, nodding in case she couldn’t hear you across the room.

“Do you want me to stay?” she asked, eyeing Spencer’s tall form almost suspiciously as she did.

“I think I’ll be okay,” you told her, offering her a small smile. “Thank you for coming to check on me. I’ll make lunch up to you next weekend.” Celeste nodded hesitantly before grabbing her purse off of the floor where she had dropped it and began making her way out. You were sure she would stay idled in the parking lot of the complex until you texted her that everything was okay, so you made a mental note to do so after this was over. Whatever this was.

Taking a deep breath, you offered a quiet, “Hi,” to Spencer as he approached your dining area with the rather large bouquet in hand. That couldn’t have been cheap.

“Hey,” he said, almost as quietly as you did. He cleared his throat and said, “I…I wanted to apologize for what happened last time we saw each other.”

Nodding, you quickly wiped a stray tear away as you told him, “I was really hurt, Spencer.”

“I know that now. So that’s why I brought you these,” he reiterated as he offered the flowers out to you. “In flower language the white roses symbolize my remorse for what happened, my seeking of forgiveness, and my hope for a new beginning between the two of us. The pink hyacinths represent new love and fresh starts. The white hyacinths represent my wish for healing between us. And the pink tulips represent my asking for forgiveness and the sincerity behind my words.” You tentatively accepted the flowers and took a moment to breathe in their natural fragrance with closed eyes as Spencer rambled on, “Did you know that floriography has been practiced for thousands of years and was even used in theatrical works, most notably Shakespeare? A lot of people take for granted what the flowers they’re giving mean, but the meaning behind each one can offer you a great deal of insight into the mind of the giver.”

You tried to hide the small smile teasing your lips in response to Spencer’s ramblings which you always found endearing by searching your cabinets for a vase to put them in. With your back turned toward him, you cleared your throat and quietly told him, “Thank you. They’re beautiful. I just…” you pulled out a vase and let out a heavy sigh as you brought it to the sink to rinse out and fill with fresh water. “Fucking me in the restroom and just leaving before I got off without an explanation hurt. Hearing what Derek said, calling me your ‘love toy’ and you agreeing to it really hurt. I… I know you said no attachments, but… I’ve spent so much time with you and got to know you and I realized that I can’t do this whole casual thing anymore…” By the time you finished your statement, you had opened the flower food and put it into the water and hugged your arms to your body as you tried to make yourself smaller amidst the palpable tension in the room.

“I could tell by your body language as you left the restaurant that something was wrong but I didn’t know what but I followed you out regardless because I knew something was wrong and wanted to try and fix it…” Spencer admitted. So Celeste was right about that… You didn’t have time to think about that though as Spencer continued, telling you, “I really messed up by leaving you in there after what I did, and it took me a while to realize what I did wrong because… Gosh now I really sound like an ass saying it out loud.” He scratched the back of his neck as he said, “I had calculated the longest average time an adult male takes in the restroom and was limiting myself to that time limit as we…did what we did in there. I knew that most of the team had seen you pass by and so I didn’t want them to think we were having sex in a restroom of all places. Not that I am ashamed to be with you at all, with you I’ve had the best few months of my life I think, but there are some aspects of my life I would like to keep private from them.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, unable to help the huff of a laugh that escaped your lips at the admission. What a truly Spencer reason to leave you hot and bothered. The bit about ‘the best few months of his life’ made your heart soar once again as you finally looked up to make eye contact with him.

A smile broke out onto his lips when his eyes met yours and he slowly approached you as he rambled on, saying, “And about the whole response to what Derek said. I panicked. He’s usually the one who has all the girls and is some sort of expert love maker or something, and I’m way less experienced than that. So when he brought it up I didn’t know how to respond so I guess I just blurted out what would make me look cool to him. Which I realized was a mistake far too long after, when the team sort of had to give me a reality check…”

Just the next morning after the restaurant incident left Spencer reeling, trying to make sense of what happened between the two of you, the BAU was called out on a case. After the first two days on the case, JJ approached Spencer as they were packing up for the day and asked, “Spence, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I-” he tried to say but couldn’t finish as Emily too approached him while putting her hand up and shaking her head.

“You’ve been moody. You don’t get moody for no reason,” she argued.

“I’m not moody,” Spencer defended himself.

“Yes you are, you’ve been off since that night at the Italian place. What happened?” JJ asked. By then more of the team had started to gather around and he noticed that even some of the locals had poked their heads up from their work to listen to what was now looking like an intervention.

Spencer sighed and threw his hands up exasperatedly as he said, “Fine! You wanna know why I’ve been in a bad mood? It’s because she told me to go to Hell and since then I just…I haven’t been able to concentrate. She’s on my mind all the time and I’ve just been trying to figure out what I did wrong so I can fix it!”

“Oh so it’s a lovers spa-” Derek started to say.

“Don’t you go making more comments,” Spencer snapped, which made Derek freeze, the smile melting off of his mouth. “Your ‘love toy’ comment is one of the things that set her off. I know that for sure.”

“Okay so we know that. What else happened?” JJ asked as she took a seat in a chair nearby, seemingly fully concentrated on the conversation now.

“I, uh…” Spencer faltered, feeling awkward about being open about his sex life in front of so many people seeing as how Hotch and Rossi had wandered into the space too. He felt heat creeping up into his cheeks as he blurted out, “We had sex in the bathroom and I had calculated how long I had before you guys got suspicious about what was happening so by the time that limit rolled around I had finished but didn’t have time to get her there but I still left because I didn’t want any of you to know what was going on.”

The response reminded him of the time they all found out you existed in the first place and he struggled to hear all of the comments. “Spencer Reid, you did what?!” came from Penelope. Emily groaned in frustration as she said, “We already all knew what was happening in that restroom!” One of the locals chimed in with, “Oh come on man, you can’t just leave her hanging like that!” “Yeah, you messed up big time,” was JJ’s snide remark as she leaned her head back and rolled her eyes.

The chaotic chorus was interrupted by David clearing his throat to get the room’s attention. When the focus was on him, he wisely pointed out, “I think we can all agree that seeking forgiveness is what you need to do here. Do it right when we get back from the case.” The older man patted Spencer on the shoulder before continuing with, “Life isn’t going to slow down or wait for an ideal opportunity to make things right. If you really want things with this girl to work out, then you’re going to have to accept that there may be obstacles in the way and hurdles you both need to jump over. You have a village behind you, kid. A village that is willing to go to bat to protect both you and those you love. We’ve done it before and we’ll do it again. The unknown shouldn’t be the reason you hold yourself back from what you really want. So go after her.”

Spencer’s large hands gently took yours into his and when you didn’t deny the touch, he squeezed them and told you, “You aren’t just an object or ‘love toy’ to me. I promise you that.” He took a shaking breath and you looked up to see tears rimming his eyes as he said, “I was just so scared of something happening to you because of my job that I denied my feelings for you. I have been targeted and taken by unsubs before, Hotch’s ex wife who was in witsec was tracked and killed, JJ’s family was targeted just a few weeks after we met… I didn’t want any of those things to happen to you. But I also didn’t want to lose you from my life so I made a deal with myself that we would keep things casual, but I never followed up after that first morning if that was okay with you…”

Tears began welling up in your eyes in response to his words. You knew that he said the job was tough on relationships, but you never thought too into what he was protecting you from… It showed that he truly cared in your eyes. That he had thought this through.

You were too stunned to speak and the dizzy feeling returned in response to all of the new information. Seeming to notice this, he guided you to the couch in your sitting area and asked, “I trust you know what the butterfly effect is?”

“I do,” you confirmed, curious as to where this was going.

“Well sometimes I get to thinking and I wonder what the probability of us meeting would have been if that butterfly hadn’t made you spill your drink on me. Think of it as an actualization of the theory. I calculated that the odds would have been slim to none considering how far off our lines of work are from each other and it makes me sad to think that in virtually every other reality we never met. Because you’ve changed my life. And yes, the sex is great, but so is the conversation! You are always so genuinely interested in what I have to say and it’s so refreshing because a lot of the people I’m close to have gotten tired of my ramblings over the years. I didn’t realize until I didn’t have you in my life anymore that I wanted to come home early from cases to be with you, and not just intimately. I wanted to come home to you in my apartment - what would be our apartment. To bring you flowers and your favorite chocolates. To cook dinner with you and watch your favorite movies. To show you my favorite books and read yours in return! I’m usually one to look at the statistics and facts of it all, but just this once I would like to believe that the butterfly effect is real and that it brought us together.”

“Spencer, I-” you started, but stopped as a quiet sob left your mouth and you covered it with your hand. When you regained your composure, you nodded and told him, “I want that too. So much. I want to come home to you reading impossibly fast through my entire book collection. I want to take trips to bookstores together. I want to make your favorite meal when you get home from a case no matter what time of day it is. I want to properly meet your teammates from the BAU. I want it all. Because I-” you stopped your rambling once more before too much came out.

You didn’t have to worry about it though, because Spencer took the words right out of your mouth as he said, “I love you.”

You felt weightless in response to his confession and you felt the biggest smile break out onto your face before you whispered back, “I love you too.”

“Can I kiss you?” Spencer asked as he leaned his forehead on yours.

“Always,” you replied, the smile on your lips evident in your voice.

The kiss was the most gentle one Spencer had ever given you and you felt your heart soar and a kaleidoscope of butterflies explode in your stomach once more, reminding you of the day you met. And this time you were sure that Spencer wouldn’t let your soaring heart fall.

After a few moments though, gone was the gentle kiss that brought you two back together. Soon the kiss was filled with need and desire as you finally noticed the reaction that your body had been having to the man who was now under your hips as you straddled him. Desire once more guided your actions as you moved your hips on Spencer’s, feeling his arousal starting to grow as you lapped into each others’ mouth.

A low and muffled groan left Spencer’s mouth as he moved his hands to rest on your ass and began massaging in time with the sway of your hips. At the same time as you began to ask, “Can I-?” Spencer was whispering, “I need-” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth before you began moving off of him and down onto the floor between his spread legs, saying, “I take it we’re on the same page then?”

“Yes,” was his instant response as his lust filled eyes looked down at you on your knees between his legs, your hands gliding up his thighs and to his belt buckle. After getting the belt undone you of course took a moment to tease his stiff member, earning a small buck of his hips and a beg of, “Please,” almost whimpered from his lips.

“How can I no to that?” you asked with a small smile on your lips as you began to unbutton and unzip Spencer’s slacks. When you pulled his slacks and underwear down in one fell swoop, you smiled up at Spencer as you asked, “Have I ever told you how handsome you are?”

“A-a few times. Shit-” he moaned out as you began teasing his head with your tongue, focusing on the spot on the underside just below the head that you knew drove him crazy. When you took him into your mouth fully, one of Spencer’s hands flew right into your hair, lightly tugging as you took as much of him into your mouth as you could.

You bobbed up and down a few times before hollowing out your cheeks around him and as you did, the grip he had on your hair tightened and you let out a low moan in the back of your throat at the feeling. Spencer’s response was instant, letting out a loud moan into the otherwise quiet room that sounded somewhat like your name. Within seconds though, he was tapping at your temple and whispering, “W-wait. Stop.”

You instantly stopped what you were doing, feeling your heart clench at the words. Wiping the excess spit from your chin, you said quietly, “I-I’m sorry did I do something-?”

“No, no, no you didn’t do anything wrong, I just…” Spencer said as his chest heaved. “I want to do this the right way. I want to make love to you.”

Your mouth opened slightly in response to the words as you sat back on the floor, shocked at the implication. Before you could come up with a response, Spencer was pulling you up from the floor and coaxing your oversized t-shirt off, revealing that you had not been wearing a bra this whole time which made him groan as he began toying with your now fully exposed breast. He began kissing you once more and a whimper escaped your mouth as he began toying with your hard nipple and you began pushing at his vest and button up, silently telling him to get rid of them.

During all of this, the two of you began fumbling toward your bedroom, dropping clothes as you went and leaving a trail from the couch to your bed. When the backs of your knees met the edge of the bed, Spencer collapsed on top of you which ended up with you in a fit of giggles as he rolled both you and himself over to be in the bed properly. When you were comfortably on the pillow, you teasingly asked, “So what does love making entail, Doctor?”

“Something more gentle than I usually give you,” he replied as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Something more meaningful,” he added as he pushed in slowly.

The stretch around Spencer was something you needed a moment to adjust to and he gave you time to do so as he buried his face into your neck and let out what sounded like a relieved sigh. This was already a change of pace. Usually the two of you were so needy, he never gave you time to adjust to his size and you always took the sting in stride with the pounding he usually gave you, but this…this was different. It felt new. It was gentle.

Wrapping your legs around Spencer’s waist, you sighed contentedly before whispering, “You can move.”

And so he did, starting off with small thrusts that you were sure he was doing so he didn’t lose it right then and there after the oral you had just given him before you started. But then they transitioned into long and languid strokes, almost completely pulling out from you before slowly pushing back in. At one point Spencer grabbed a small throw pillow you had on the bed and lifted your hips to place it under them and from that moment you knew you were a goner. The angle made it easier for him to hit that spongy spot within your walls and you let out an almost pornographic moan when he did. Over and over again.

“You sound so beautiful,” Spencer grunted out which made you open your eyes to look up at him. You were met with his smile as he reiterated, “You are so beautiful.”

The compliment had your body reeling and you felt the coil in your abdomen tightening as he continued to brush over that spot within you. “Spencer, I-” your words were cut off by a moan when he brought the hand now not supporting his body weight to your clit and began rubbing gentle circles on it. Your breathing began to become labored as the pleasure continued to mount until it was almost too much. “I’m close,” you told him, feeling your core starting to twitch around him as he filled you up so well.

“Me too, sweet girl,” Spencer panted out, leaning down to place a gentle kiss to your lips.

As cheesy as it is to say, the tender moment was what broke you. A litany of pleasure filled sounds escaped your mouth that were swallowed by Spencer’s as he picked up his pace just the slightest bit as you began contracting around him, your orgasm ripping through your body in the most intense way possible. Spencer followed behind you quickly, burying his head into your neck once more as he moaned out his pleasure between sloppy kisses placed on your throat.

Spencer collapsed slightly on top of you, slightly to the side as he slipped out of you, some of his release following suit as you both breathed heavily in the aftermath of what you would deem the most pleasurable sex you had ever had. With hands wandering in mindless shapes over your body, Spencer mumbled into your skin, “I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“I love you too,” you told him with a smile on your lips. You never wanted to let go of this feeling.

A few minutes passed of just basking in each other’s warm embrace before Spencer raised his head and kissed your lips, telling you, “Let’s get cleaned up. I’m thinking that after we shower I can take you to dinner? On a proper date?”

“I would love that,” you replied as he helped you off the bed and into the shower.

That night after dinner Spencer outdid himself with the love making, somehow managing to drag three more orgasms out of you, each more intense than the last. As you laid there in bed that night with Spencer’s arm draped over you, you silently thanked the world for sending that butterfly into your path that fateful morning.

a/n: thank you all so much for the outpouring of love on Casual! i really hope this lived up to expectations that may have been built after the first part! Derek still hasn't been redeemed and Reader still hasn't properly met the BAU team (especially Rossi who was honestly the MVP here), so i'm thinking we'll see each other again in a potential part three? ;)

part three: Right Person, Right Time

taglist: @spicyspirit @misserabella @lillianacristina @lullvu

those who didn't ask to be tagged but y'all were so kind in the comments so i will anyways to make sure you see this post <3 (apologizes if i am overstepping by tagging)

@lilrios-world @theylovemelody @lea24sposts @espressoparis @crazy4books1 @i-live-in-spite @mega-kittyglitter-1 @rumplereids

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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princessbrunette · 5 months

Note

thinking about bunny being in a slightly difficult mood, grumpy, huffing and stomping her foot around tannyhill. rafe’s trying to let her have her temper tantrum since they’re a rare occurrence. but after a few hours of her sour mood not letting up, he manhandles her rove this lap to put in her bunny plug and finger her till she cries and he’s cooing at her about how “only dad can fix that little attitude huh, bun?”

oh my god??????

(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡

he can handle the grumpiness, stomping around in little heels and huffing at minor inconveniences. sour moods never last too long with you, so having to deal with you isn’t exactly something that concerns him. however, he is a little surprised to learn that after a few hours — you’re carrying that same amount of aggression, manicured nails digging into your palm as you storm around with clenched fists, shrugging carelessly to whatever rafe asks you and bottom lip permanently jutted into a pout.

the final straw is when you go to pull your shirt from your dresser where it was folded, tugging a little too hard and hearing a tear. usually, this wouldn’t bother you. you knew deep down that it was no biggie to get something like that fixed, and rafe would never let you walk around with holes in your clothes — but the simple act of it happening sent you over the edge, screaming at the top of your lungs and repeatedly beating the shirt on the dresser, kicking your kitten-heeled feet against the wood of it until the heavy footsteps of your boyfriend had arrived behind you.

“the fuck is —” he cuts himself off, seeing the scene before him, taking in the dramatics before instantly doing what he knew should have done hours ago. in seemingly one quick movement, rafe yanks you by the arm out the way while opening the drawer and pulling out the clean bunny buttplug just waiting for usage. “alright, alright — alright!” he yells over your fussing until it was just broken whines and cries, the boy forcing you over his lap on the bed.

“its broken—” you go to yell once more as rafe yanks up your skirt, but he cuts you off quickly — asserting his dominance in hopes you’ll simply relax.

“lower your voice kid, won’t ask you again.” he commands sternly, and luckily you don’t bother again, sucking in short breaths and sniffling into the bedsheets as he works your panties off completely, knowing you won’t be needing them anymore.

you groan when rafe slots his hand beneath your throat and lifts your head with his grip, bending as much as he can to crane over you and hold the plug to your mouth. “c’mon. get it wet. don’t waste my time.” he taps your bottom lip and you sniffle, drooling until not only the metal was coated but his fingers were too from the run off. “shit, crazy girl.” he tsks as he leans back, touching the tip of it to your puckered hole. “you’re gonna calm the hell down. alright? once this is in you’re gonna chill out. i know you need me to fix that little attitude, okay i know. but you gotta use your words and not freak out on me. daddy can’t help you otherwise. yeah?” he talks to you as he pushes it in, feeling relief in the way your body melts on his lap, still sucking in harsh breaths but slower.

“yeah.” you repeat, knowing you had to say something but your brain was in melting mode, not capable of thinking of much else.

“alright. good. now, look at me — m’gonna ask you something n’i want an answer.” he demands, slowly helping your trembling body to stand between his legs. you clutch his white shirt in your fists, grounding yourself as your tearful eyes flicker over his face. you make a noise of acknowledgment so that he can continue. “what do you want? i— i can’t fix it for you baby ‘cos i don’t know what it is.” he flings out an arm, gesturing the shirt you left strewn on the floor. “is it that? do you want me to look at that? do you need a nap? food?” he shakes his head in exasperation, wide eyes searching yours with parted lips like he was really trying to figure you out.

you sniffle, shuffling on your feet as you stand inbetween his legs, his arm around your lower back keeping you leaning on him — and you’re not saying anything. he blinks, before speaking once more. “its dick. you want dick, huh?”

you didn’t know you did. truthfully, you’d been in a god awful mood all day, feeling like everything was going wrong — and in that moment things became just a little clearer as to why that might be. rafe hadn’t fucked you all week, you’d been out and about doing your own things — which is normal and okay in every relationship — just not in yours. you needed rafe to remind you who’s boss, because you didn’t wanna have to think anymore.

“please.” you nod, fiddling with his shirt button and the hand around your back slides down to beneath your skirt, tugging at the tail before massaging his fingers over your empty hole, feeling the way it gets sticky around him.

“hm. i should’a known.” he drawls, eyeing over you before plucking at your clothes. “gotta take this off, yeah? lemme see you.”

(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #bunny!reader

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almond-tofuuu · 7 months

Text

Do it for me...

Zayne x fem! Reader smut

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, porn without plot (this is pure smutty goodness), PiV sex, nipple play, cervix fucking, soft dom! Zayne, consensual sex (bc asking for consent is hot af), cunnilingus, tongue fucking, fingering, squirting, creampie, raw sex (wrap it up ppl), sex on a desk, Zayne's fat cock (bc that shi needs its own warning label)

Lmk if I missed anything

Word count: 2.9k (I am so sorry)

Thinking about Zayne

His pupils blown wide with lust, chest heaving with every breath he takes, icy hand gently but firmly holding your chin in place, forcing you to maintain eye contact as his other hand explores your body. Cold fingers gliding so softly over your exposed collar bones, making your skin tingle and goose bumps forming in the wake of his fingertips. His eyes locked on yours as his hand travels lower, following the valley between your breasts, stopping just under the curve of your left breast, fingers toying with the lace of your bra.

"May I?" His voice is low and husky, breath fanning over your cheek as he leans closer, searching your face for any signs of discomfort.

You nod your head, desperate to feel his cold hands on your bare skin again, but he doesn't move, his eyes narrowing slightly as a deep chuckle rumbles from his chest.

"That's not how this works, darling, if you want something you're going to have to tell me" he leans in closer, lips ghosting over yours, teasing you but not giving you what you want "Go on, use your words, I'll give you whatever you want, just be a good girl and tell me what you need."

His words, so full of promise and dripping with desire spark a fire within you, a heat that radiates down to your core. Swallowing down the last of your anxiety, your eyes meet his own, voice barely above a whisper as you try not to stumble over your words.

"Please Zayne....I need you... need you to touch me...need to feel you, please-"

Your pleading is cut off by Zayne's mouth as he captures yours in a searing kiss, his hand that was previously holding your chin now tangling into the hair on the back of your head, pulling you closer as his lips devour yours. His tongue darts out to lick at your bottom lip, silently asking for entrance which you willingly grant, allowing him to explore your mouth. At the same time his other hand has made quick work of removing your bra, now kneading your left breast in his large hand, cold fingers pinching and rolling your nipple until it hardens before moving onto your right breast to give it the same attention. Reaching up you grab onto his broad shoulders, needing something to ground yourself, fingers burying themselves into the fabric of his doctors coat, tugging at it slightly. Zayne pulls away for a moment, chuckling at the adorable neediness of the gesture.

"What's the matter? Do you not like my coat anymore?" You know by the small smirk on his lips and mischievous glint in his eyes that he's teasing you, know that he wants you to tell him exactly what it is you want.

"Want you to take it off, 's not fair that I'm sat here shirtless and you're still fully clothed" you mumble with a small pout on your lips, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Hmm You're right, allow me to correct my error" Zayne's eyes remain focused on yours as he shrugs his doctors coat off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor of his office with a soft thump. However, you're still not satisfied, wanting to see more of him, so you grab onto his tie, pulling him closer to you so you can get to work on removing his shirt. Zayne is quick to stop you, large hands engulfing yours, halting their movement as he leans down to peer into your face.

"If your hands keep being mischievous, I can show you how surgeons tie knots" although his tone isn't harsh, there's a quiet dominance to his words, almost like he's challenging you to keep going. And you're not one to back down from a challenge, so you tug on his tie again, bringing his face closer to yours, trailing soft kisses along his jaw before you whisper seductively into his ear,

"Is that a promise, Doctor Zayne?"

Before you can even react Zayne has you laid on your back on his desk, one strong hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other loosening his tie further as his imposing form towers over you.

"It would seem that someone can't control their hands, perhaps I should teach you a lesson, maybe then you'll be more obedient" as he speaks Zayne takes his tie and uses it to restrain your hands, his movements quick and precise, being careful not to tie the knot too tight but enough to limit your movement.

"That's much better, now be a good girl for me and stay still" satisfied with his work Zayne leans in to capture your lips in a quick and passionate kiss before moving onto your neck, biting and sucking the sensitive skin there, spurred on by the soft moans spilling from you. He then moves lower, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your collar bones and between your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue around one of your hardened nipples before taking it in his mouth, his free hand coming up to tease the other. He repeats his movements on your other breast, not wanting to neglect it and relishing the way you whine and how your back arches up into him. Once he's done toying with your nipples, Zayne resumes his path downwards, lips and tongue leaving behind a wet trail on your stomach as he stops at the waistband of your jeans.

"Can I remove these as well, love?" He looks up at you, waiting for your permission, needing to hear that you want this.

"Yes, please Zayne, need you" this time you're quick to respond, your body feeling hot as the tension builds in your core becomes nearly unbearable, needing to feel some kind of relief.

Zayne gives you an approving smile, obviously pleased with your response, his hands moving to the buttons of your jeans, undoing them and removing both your jeans and panties in one go. Seeing you completely bare beneath him, your soaked cunt on full display, Zayne let's out a deep groan, whispering a soft "fuck" under his breath as he takes in the sight of you. The feeling of his piercing eyes on your exposed pussy is too much for you and you close your legs subconsciously, trying to shy away from him. But Zayne simply grips onto your thighs, prying them apart and slotting his hips in-between them.

"Don't hide away from me, love, you're beautiful, each and every part of you is perfect." His voice is soft and full of adoration, letting you know he means every word, that he truly thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever met. And you do believe him, because the way he's looking at you, the way he's holding you makes you feel so special. His hands give a light squeeze on your thighs, holding them in place as he lowers his head to plant soft kisses along the sensitive skin on the inside of your right thigh, nibbling every so often, inching closer and closer to where you need him most before switching over to your other thigh, giving it the same treatment. You buck your hips up, a desperate whine leaving you as you plead with him, "please stop teasing...wanna feel you... Can't take it anymore"

Zayne let's out a breathy chuckle, his warm breath fanning over your weeping cunt, "very well, you've been a good girl so far, I suppose you do deserve a reward"

And with that Zayne dives into your glistening pussy, tongue licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, taking it in his mouth and sucking it, repeating the motion several times as you writhe in pleasure beneath him. One of his strong hands moves to firmly hold down your hips, the other begins to play with your clit as his tongue delves inside your dripping hole.

"You taste so sweet, I may have just found my new favourite desert" he lets out a low moan of satisfaction that vibrates against your pussy, his mouth latching onto you again as he drives his tongue further inside you, lapping up all the juices leaking out of you. The feeling of his fingers on your clit and his tongue inside you has your thighs quivering and locking around his head, back arching off his desk as moans fall freely from your lips. Your hands, still bound together by his tie, reach down and tangle themselves in his hair, tugging slightly causing Zayne to groan into your cunt. He eats you out like a man starved, drinking down every drop of the juices flowing from inside you, his nose bumping against your clit adding to the intense pleasure coursing through your body. Your orgasm is rapidly approaching when you feel Zayne's tongue leaving your pussy only to be replaced by two of his long, slender fingers, he slides them inside you easily, making a scissoring motion as his mouth latches onto your clit.

"Zayne... gon- ngh! Gonna cum!" You manage to stutter out between moans, your cunt clenching tighter around his fingers that continue to pump in and out of you, his pace increasing as he curls them to hit the spot deep inside your cunt that has you seeing stars.

"Go ahead, love, cum for me" he mumbles his encouragement into your cunt, the added vibrations sending you over the edge as your orgasm hits you full force, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as you soak his hand and the lower part of his face. Zayne works you through your high, not stopping his movements until you push his head away, the over sensitivity becoming too much. You lie there catching your breath, looking down shyly you meet Zayne's gaze as he rises from between your legs, and he looks like pure sin. His eyes have darkened with lust, the bottom half of his face glistening with your juices, a smirk rests on his lips as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. It's the most erotic sight you've ever witnessed, and it has your cunt throbbing in anticipation.

"Do you wish to continue, love? I need you to tell me now if you've had enough, because once I start I'm not going to stop until I've ruined you for every other man" his voice is steady but there's a hint of tension behind his words, as if he's fighting hard to maintain control of himself, trying to keep his ever stoic demeanor intact. In a sudden burst of courage, you reach down and palm his painfully hard cock as it strains against the front of his dress pants, causing a low moan to resonate from deep in his chest. His hips involuntarily buck into your hand, his eyes fluttering closed as he allows himself indulge in the feeling of your warm hands as they stroke his cock.

"I want this, Zayne, want you" your whisper to him sweetly, hands unbuttoning the front of his pants, pulling down his underwear and freeing his gorgeous cock, letting it slap against his toned abdomen. It's thick and lengthy, pale with a prominent vein running up the underside of his shaft, pearly beads of precum leak out from the tip that's a few shades darker then the rest of his cock. You've never thought of using the word 'beautiful' to describe a cock before, but his truly was a sight to behold, enough to make your mouth water and pussy clench around nothing. You shuffle forward in an attempt to get off his desk, ready to sink to your knees and worship him the same way he did you, but Zayne's firm grasp on your chin halts your movement. You blink up at him in confusion, worried that you may have done something wrong, but the lust clouding his eyes and desire dripping like honey from his voice tells you otherwise.

"As much as I'd like to indulge in feeling that pretty mouth of yours, I'm afraid I can't wait that long. I need to take you, now. So be a good girl and lay back down for me"

Licking your lips, you do as you're told, resuming your previous position, the cool surface of his desk pleasant against your flushed skin. Zayne stands between your open legs, one hand resting on your thigh, the other takes hold of his thick length, guiding it through your slick folds, coating his shaft in your wetness, the tip nudging your clit with every slow thrust. Once he's satisfied that his cock is lubed up enough with your juices, Zayne positions himself at the entrance to your cunt, the tip prodding at the tight hole causing a near pathetic whimper of need to fall from your lips.

"Apologies in advance, love, I'll try to be gentle" and with that Zayne slowly enters you, his thick shaft stretching out your tight pussy, the steady, shallow thrusts allowing you to feel every delicious inch as he works you open until he's buried to the hilt. A shaky exhalation leaves Zayne's lips followed by a quiet "fuck" whispered under his breath, his eyes closed briefly as he revels in the feeling of finally being inside you, feeling your drenched cunt throbbing and clenching so nicely around his cock. He wants to be gentle, wants to take his time with you and keep true to his words.

But Zayne is only a man, and like all men he has a breaking point, and the sight of you laid beneath him, half-lidded eyes locked onto his, mouth hung open as you moaned his name in ecstasy, soaked cunt throbbing so perfectly around his cock was just too much for him. His self control that was hanging by a thread finally snapped, he began pounding his cock into you like a man possessed, driving his length deeper and deeper inside of your sensitive hole, the fat tip hitting your cervix with every rough thrust. Broken moans flow from you, combining with the rhythmic slapping of skin and wet squelching of your pussy, it creates a sinful melody that's practically pornographic, it would be enough to make your cheeks burn if your brain could actually focus on anything other than the delicious drag of Zayne's cock as he ruts into you. Meanwhile, the man above you has lost all composure, fingers digging into the plush of your hips as he drives his length into you, his rough thrusts enough to cause the desk below you to scrape across the floor. Somewhere, deep in your fucked-out brain you register the tightening of the coil in your lower stomach, knowing your orgasm is near, you try to warn Zayne, although it's difficult to form any kind of coherent thought with how good he's drilling into you.

"Z-zayne.... Aghh! gonna....mmh...gonna cum!" You manage to whimper out between moans, your eyes closing as you throw your head back, body arching up off the desk as his cock hits the spongey spot deep inside your pussy, causing you to clench even harder around him. Zayne brings one hand up to tilt you face to look at him, his eyes held an almost predatory glint as they locked onto yours.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me, love, I want to watch as you fall apart" his words came out breathy and low, a deep groan rumbling up from the back of his throat, his hips never stopping their brutal pace, icy fingers coming up to play with your clit, rubbing figure eights into it as his heavy balls smacked against your ass with every thrust. It's all too much, all of your senses are overwhelmed by him. His cool fingers on your clit, his piercing eyes boring into yours, his musky scent surrounding you, deep groans and warm breath fanning over your face, and his hard cock moulding your pussy to his shape. Your orgasm is blinding, your body convulsing and cunt spasming erratically around his length, squirting your release all over his toned abdomen as your vision turns white. A high-pitched moan leaving you followed by the chanting of his name, whispered almost like a prayer as he consumed your thoughts. Zayne doesn't stop, his thrusts speeding up as his own is release fast approaching, but he doesn't even realise, too focused on you. Watching intensely as you come undone beneath him, wanting to remember every second, every moan, every facial expression. It only takes a few more thrusts before he's cumming, hips stuttering before burying himself deep inside you, a broken groan of your name falling from his lips, cock pulsing and twitching as he coats your pussy with his thick, creamy seed. He continues to shallowly rock into your spent pussy, feeling how your cunt milks his cock for every last drop of cum.

His strong arms rest on either side of your head, holding him up as he pants heavily, sweat-covered forehead resting against yours as you both bask in the afterglow of your release. Zayne Is the first to move, pulling back slightly he presses a tender kiss to your forehead as he takes in your fucked-out form below his. He can't help but be entranced by how beautiful you look, skin glistening with sweat, chest rising and falling heavily as you try to catch your breath, cheeks flushed as you come down from your high. To him, you look absolutely ethereal, and he can't stop the soft smile that spreads across his face, because finally, after so many years of wanting and waiting, you're his.

#drops this on the dash and runs #love and deepspace #zayne #zayne x reader smut #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #smut #this is pure filth #minors dni #zayne smut #not proofread #we die like men #SoundCloud

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screampied · 3 months

Text

‘ CALL ME BY YOUR NAME ?! ★

geto, toji, choso, gojo, sukuna. moaning the wrong name during sēx.

cw. fem! reader, unprotected, crack, brat taming, substance usage (weed), true form sukuna, spit, size kink + size diffs, impact play, cōckwarming, cērvix mentions, edging, overstim, dumbificafion. req.

wc. 3.6k

SATORU GOJO ☆

with your body steadily rocking back and forth, rolling and jerking at a more hastily pace—satoru can’t help but strum his thumbs against your curves. your figure, he couldn’t help but feel against it, feel the specific curves, the outline of your gorgeous physique. all his. “fuck, thaaaat’s it baby, that’s my girl,” he praises you in a cooing berceuse, stuffing your cunt with thickset inches of his cock. the constant elastic-like stretch makes you whimper, burying the outer cusps of your fingertips into his bare flesh. his broad wide shoulders lower and alleviate as you’re maintaining such weight on him.

already, you were so close to reaching your inescapable peak. the abiding repetitive creaks of the mattress was loud, creating its own personal mixtape as you whine mercy. with glossy eyes, you peer up at satoru who’s panting himself, a slippery sheet of perspiring sweat coating the top part of his forehead. groaning, he spanks your ass continuously the moment he starts to feel you slow down. “nah, c’mon. don’t get weak on me now, angel. move those f— fuckin’ hips, yeah.”

his words, they ran straight towards your cunt. as he’s delving his fat cock into your stretchy walls time and time again, satoru feels your little butterfly of a pulse. “mhhh,” you squeak out, shaky arms throwing over his slouched shoulders. “s-suguru, ‘m close, fuck.” and the look on his face says it all, what the fuck.

“what,” his eye twitches, and as he’s still tucked inside - buried balls deep into your pussy, there’s a forming pout. satoru doesn’t even look pissed, he just seems .. offended. you huff out a devestated breath at how he just stops and his voice cracks. “did you just call me suguru?”

“i mean shoko—” and then you gasp. “eh, satoru.”

big hands of his hold onto your waist, locking you in a firm grip. satoru’s got the most twisted expression. snowy white brows contort into a repelled furrow as he’s still pumping you full without actually moving.

“no way did you just say shoko,” and he grunts, feeling himself throb at the thought of you and shoko. satoru stares at you and its more of a gawk really. he grips your chin, a soft thumb toying against your quavering bottom lip. so kissable, even while being a brat — he thinks. “did you say that on purpose, baby?”

“n- no,” you lie through your teeth, desperate for him to start up his pace again. you craved it, already missing his fat thick inches breaking past your fragile, soddened walls. this was practically torture, just sitting and waiting for him to start again. whenever you were edged, it was hell. he hums at your impatient expression nonetheless. satoru could read you like a book though - he gives you an eyebrow raise and you gulp, feeling that same twitch arise between your thighs. at this point, he felt it too. “you and s-suguru’s name’s sound the same.”

with a deadpan, he grabs a nice amount of your ass before smacking it. whack, the sting gives you whiplash and you bite down on your lip. “nuh uh,” he murmurs with a concise head shake.

icy blue eyes peer into yours and you let off another gasp once he grabs ahold of your hips again—bouncing you back onto his dick. “don’t like when my babies lie to me. ‘s exactly why ‘m gonna have ‘ta break this pussy for tonight,” and you heard the sudden gruff in his tone. you’re babbling as you’re being fucked dumb on his dick again - up and down, treated like nothing more than a priceless rag doll. you moan so sweet that it’s almost pornographic—the entire scene was obscene, your noises only fueled him to ruin you further. ruin your cunt, anyway. shamefully, you hide your face into his neck, getting a redolent waft of his signature cologne.

teasingly,

satoru leans right into your ear, grabbing your neck gingerly whilst another unoccupied hand slithers down your body, spanking your cunt. it’s so wet, he feels a splash of your slick coat his palm and he chuckles. whispering to you, he grunts out a gruff.

“aw, goin’ somewhere?” he jeers, noticing as you’re trying to move again but secures your hips with two hands. satoru’s got the most shit-eating grin and you just wanted to wipe it straight off. “but heh, while i show this nasty cunt some manners, you won’t cry for me, right?”

SUGURU GETO ☆

the seraphic warmth and pleasure of your body continues to rub off against his skin - so warm, it’s tepid and almost sweltering hot. the strong stench of pure passionate sex with a mixture of his own scent drives you insane.

you’re dragging your pussy back and forth against him, riding him in reverse with your mouth stupidly dangling open. “s- suguuu,” you whimper, pointed tips of your nails gripping onto his thighs. the only other thing that stuck against him besides you, was his grey sweats—grey sweats that were lazily pulled down. your rhythm makes him kiss his teeth, cocking his head back as he takes another puff of his blunt. you wanted to ride him while he took a smoke and he could never refuse to his sweet babygirl. “right there, fuck ‘s big, sugu.”

“perfect size jus’ for you too,” he purrs against your left earlobe, playfully flicking his tongue against your skin. as always, you tasted so sweet for him — he groans at your flavor, a bit of salt that lingers on near your neck falling right onto his tastebuds. once he licks your neck in such a raunchy way, you moan loudly. it’s almost muffled though, a gargling sound forming near the very back of your throat. just seconds ago, your ear twitches from his hot breath fanning into your sensitive canal. your cunt’s having a melodramatic spasm of its own, releasing sweet cries of squelches that never fail to echo throughout the thin apartment walls. “mhm,” and you lean back into his chest, feeling a tickling sensation of brief curled chest hair ghost against your back. “lean into me like that, focus on that arch, good girl.”

the natural rough deepness in his tone always has you pulsing for more - it’s lewd, carnal and downright filthy. as geto inhales, emptying his lungs for a second, he exhales—blowing the clouded air directly away from you. dark hazed irises that were fully blown flicker down toward your ass. the way it moves,

it’s just nasty,

jerk after fucking jerk.

the recoil that slams back into him makes his jaw clench. your cunt’s already a bit overflowed with his cum from before. it’s slippery, dribbling all down the sides of your plush thighs before you whine out a pleading sob. “s- satoru, more. h- harder,” and you hear his lips smack immediately. suguru geto—always a sassy man, you’d bet money he even rolled his eyes too. after your little 'accident' blabber, you suddenly grow mute, realizing the syllables you spat out wasn’t even his.

“who?” he utters, yanking both hips of yours into an abrupt pause. you whine, trying to grind back against him but he only spanks you. “princess, i know you didn’t just say what i think you said.”

it was a type of low purr to his tone and it turns you on regardless. you feel your pulse slowly pick up - both pulses.

specifically between your thighs and your heart.

his loud scent had you aching for more and it only made things ten times worse once you feel his hands grab against your neglected tits. “s- suguru,” you correct yourself, mewling out a pathetic whine. “you know what i meant.”

“do i?” he hums, gently squeezing two fingers against your sensitive nipples. you slump back, still having his cock shoved right into your gummy walls before you start to salivate. right up against your ear, all close and personal, he starts to suck near your tender collarbone. “mhm, y’know exactly what you’re doing, sweets. but since ya wanna call me satoru, maybe you don’t need this dick after all.”

“wha—” and before you could even get a word out, he slides you off of his cock, repositioning his half on shirt. you pout, so close to finishing—so so close. the slimy trail of heat that pours between your legs only grow as you pant, meeting the gaze of the dark-haired male. “but y- you didn’t let me finish.”

with a mocking gesture of bending his head down to your level, he strokes your chin. “yeah, exactly baby,” and his stare at you arouses you way more than you thought. dark, sable tinted pupils return your expression before a smug grin spreads across his pink slicked lips. “but ‘m sure you’ll find a way to finish,” and he ogles at your exposed cunt one more time, an unamused tch leaving his lips. “maybe ask satoru to finish your sloppy pussy off.”

“fine—”

“girl i was joking???”

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☆

some nerve you had—you thought it would’ve been funny, and oh, did you think wrong.

toji’s relentlessly pounding into you from behind. slow, languid strokes massaging into your grippy walls. you’re a mess, tongue lolled out and a few strands of hair sticking to your forehead as he’s just churning up your sweet sweet insides.

every few seconds, a bit hand smacks against the right cheek of your ass, then the left, then the right. it’s constantly repetitive, the sting making you drool all onto the pillow. it’s a nice trail, a translucent color that’s just drizzling out of the corners of your lips.

you’re stupid, head bobbling against the cushioned fluff as if you were just a doll. you were never in a million years a match for toji—let alone his brutal, sharp hips.

“fuckkk,” he hisses out a raspy growl, watching intently as few remnants of his cum from the last round decorate the outer parts of your pussy. viridescent, jade pupils dart toward your thighs, taking in your jolting body. so weak, he can’t help but gawk at the way his hot cum oozes out of each hole. it’s so sloppy, he couldn’t help but swipe his thumb against your puckering entrance, getting a taste. “mhm,” he utters, lapping the fat print of his thumb over his tongue. toji never had a problem with it. relishing the bitter tang of his own, it was on you after all so it was even sweeter. the jiggle of your ass from each stinging swat he gives you makes his dick twitch. “sluttin’ y’erself out on me, good. keep the fuckin’ arch, yeah.”

there was a raspy pitch in his voice, gruff. you whimper, feeling him clamp both of your wrists toward your back - a slope of drool trickling past the corners of your lips before you let out a defeated snivel. “s-shiu, hngh. ‘m so close, shiu.”

and right then—he stops his hips, you’re clenching around nothing but his cock, his cock that was now idle. your panting slows down and the debleating rapture goes away once you moan out his colleague’s name. “w- what happened?”

“w-what happened?” he mocks your tone, even quivering out his lip to capture your little whine. your ass gets met with another serrated smack and the brief clash of his hips makes you hiss.

“shiu, huh?” and he sounds .. amused. you weren’t even looking at the man but you could tell he probably had the most smug expression imaginable. your ass was still propped and raised in the air — ass up, face down. your left temple buries itself into the velvety sheets before you start to clench around his non moving length. “dunno whether ‘ta be offended or turned on, baby.”

you swallow, feeling a broad hand grip against your ass. toji gawks at the sight of you all all arched, feeling your pussy thump in sync with your irregular breaths. he snickers at your current position, a thumb poking inside of your slick cunt before maneuvering it around. doing so, it makes the delivery of your words shudder. “i s- said toji.”

“shut the fuck up.” he grits.

you hold back an incoming giggle and you could visibly feel the glare displayed on his tense expression.

toji grabs another piece of your ass before lightly shoving you further into the mattress. “ehh. but fine, since you wanna say shiu, ‘m curious. who’s bigger? me or that bum?”

“do you .. want me to be honest?” you sheepishly murmur.

he didn’t expect you to say that.

“……..”

SUKUNA RYŌMEN ☆

all four arms roam over your body - exploring every inch, taking pride in your curves that presented itself in such a nude, salacious way.

you gasp at his strength, the demon lifting you up with ease, fucking you stupid whilst you’re in the air. you’re a mess, a nice stringy strand of your own spit starts to race out of your mouth and into the cracks of your chest. “ah,” he raises a single slit brow, holding you up and fucking you with deep, thorough thrusts. inside of his domain, the temperature was cold—the more your body lurches midair, the more you’re hit with a breeze of frigid cool wind. “such a dumb little face y’r makin’,” he points out, a big hand cupping your chin.

within no time, you’re slobbering all down his hand, feeling him puncture such deep areas into your cunt. sukuna bares a fang in a cocky manner, another hand gripping your chin so that you could look straight at him. “someone’s dumb again, today huh,” he grits, the hits of his dick sending you on a frenzied spiral. you’re babbling incoherent words, two weak arms thrown over his shoulders as you’re just bouncing and bouncing. he’s so thick too, his angry mushroom tip repeated its gesture of coating your cervix with a plethora of chaste kisses. “oh, don’t give me that pout. wanna cum, huh? ‘s that why you look so stupid?”

“t— tojiiii.” you whine, trying to grind your hips further to your incoming release. ripples of waves ignite its way into your body in short welts of pleasure. languidly, they form into tiny little surges of shockwaves before you short circuit. it’s early, you’re panting and you don’t even realize that you’re gushing all down his cock.

an entire mess—you’re an entire mess and you don’t even realize the repulsed expression sukuna’s giving you. “pardon, little girl.”

“i.. i said sukuna.” you moan, making an attempt to kiss his neck but he growls lowly, restraining one of your hands. his reflexes were quick, preventing you from moving a single inch further. you’re still behind held up with his other arms, fat hefty cock buried deep into your drooling, loose walls before he peels your bottom lip down. “don’t stop, ‘kun—”

“no, you said toji,” and he stares you dead in the eyes. you’re met with cruel mighty ones, and still you throbbed regardless. with your weak legs snaked around his waist - sukuna hmphs at you, watching your body try to move itself. you can’t help but be needy, he’s still inside of you but he just wouldn’t move. your teeth was shattering, nails piercing into his skin before he wraps a single hand around your throat. “how do you even mix up our names?” and he lightly knocks against your head, making you lie flat against the mattress. “must be nothin’ in that brain, huh. my girl’s such an airhead today.”

“ryo,” you moan, feeling a bit exposed now that you were laid flat on your back. the satiny sheets run against your skin as you sprawl your legs open voluntarily. he watches, a tongue scraping over his upper lip before aligning himself again. ryo, you were aware that that wasn’t even his name but you always liked to tease him about it. your cunt’s throbbing ridiculously still from its most recent crazed release. with your thighs shaking ruthlessly, you spread your swollen cunt lips open with two fingers. “s- sorry, ‘m sorry. didn’t mean it.”

he chuckles, knowing full well you were basically pleading for him to keep going. you were desperate, physically and metaphorically frothing at the mouth for his heavy shaft. your eyes meet his cock that was just right there, a pretty droplet of pre-cum dribbling down the very side where a prodding vein remains. with a sly expression, he pries you open with a single finger. immediately, your mouth goes ajar and agape from the stretch.

“mhm, the audacity to compare me to that loser,” he snarls, and watches with crimson, red-shot eyes as your legs sprawl open. with just a single digit, he makes your sopping cunt lips spread apart and he leans his neck down to spit right on it. you whine, staring openly as he grabs ahold of one of his dicks that was stacked behind the first one. “brat ‘till the end ‘n y’r still this fuckin’ soaked. now open up for me.”

you gulp, leaning back against the mattress while feeling the sharp gaze of an unruly demon. he’s got a relaxed expression, but he rubs the tip of both dicks against your wet pussy. “wha—”

“lets use that brain today,” he grunts, and your back spontaneously arches forward the moment you feel both dampened tips glide its way down your inviting slit. “spread ‘em. since you wanna call me ‘toji’ i’ll have to remind this cunt how’s it feel to be stuffed by two fuckin’ cocks, whore.”

CHOSO KAMO ☆

with choso, he’d be having you in classic missionary, interlocking his tangled fingers with yours the entire time. your touch to him was a treasure he never wanted to lose. its warmth, he feels a sudden flutter school its way into his heart and he lets off a relaxed sigh. fevered skin presses against your body directly underneath him and he can’t help but gaze into your eyes. so so pretty, that natural doe-eyes look, pupils all irised and shimmering in the sunlight — you’re simply ethereal. his heart’s racing and racing, each beat gets quicker by the second. with a single tugging gnaw at his bottom lip he tugs the skin at his teeth. your grip has him lost in a gaze, and he can’t help but moan your name again and again.

he moans it continuously in such a sweet, swooning tune until he’s a broken record. he’s so in love. choso continues to moan it until each syllable of your name gets stuck on his tongue like gum. after a few moments, he’s now whining your name, continuing to tenderly grind his hips into you at such a passionate pace. babbles of broken whimpers make its way out of his lips as he’s sputtering nonsense, locking each finger with yours. his grip was tight because he never wanted to let you go.

he couldn’t.

choso was always gentle with you, he treated you like you were glass, glass preparing to crack and break. but he never wanted to break you.

warm, feverish breaths pant and collide against each other’s mouths as he’s taking turns from sucking on your collarbone or your neck. “ngh, my baby’s s- so pretty,” he huffs, gently swaying his hips roughly yet tenderly into you. choso had the rhythm and he had the pace— it was never a dull moment with him. you were about to cream down his cock again, nirvana surging through your veins as your legs wrap around his waist. his body height hovers over you and it’s so hypnotic.

choso’s hair - it’s usually in two ponytails but now, it’s all loose and unkempt. a few ravened strands even prod its way against your forehead.

it’s prickling your skin, tickling against you within each thrust. each sloppy stroke bucking into your sweet sweet core.

“no, p- please, look at me, please,” he mumbles in a soft tone, dark arched brows curling up into a needful furrow. a thumb strums against the outline of your jaw before he gives it a benign kiss. delicately, your chin gets pulled up gently with a big hand and he pouts until your eyes finally meets his.

finally,

your cunt greedily clings onto him tight, speaking of tight - that’s all you felt. for a while anyway,

your legs securely sling around his slim waist as if it was a snake. his thrusts were always so merciless and grim, no matter how tender he was with you, how gentle. choso was always gentle, yet he’s had the stamina of a horse. he always wanted to make sure you were feeling good at all costs. the moment his eyes meet yours, he feels a pang of love welt its way into his heart. “jus lookin’ at you ‘s gonna make me cum,” he whimpers, his body jittering just from the thought.

body against body, skin against skin,

choso leans in to kiss you, practically humping against your pussy. he’s so feral for you. he’s so feral and oh, he just can’t help it.

it was cute,

the half curse was trying his best to make you feel good because his pleasure was your pleasure at the end of the day.

his tongue ploddingly glides against yours before he starts to suck it, gasping once he feels your clit convulse against his thwacking tip. choso was forevermore weak from your tender kisses. “mhh,” you speak between sultry wet kisses, and his body remains to grind against yours. hovering over you completely, a thumb of his roams down the palm of your sweaty hand. pulling away, you moan out a shrilling whimper, “s- sukuna—”

yet, by coincidence you’re not the only person to blurt out the wrong name, because choso ends up finishing inside, a thick stringy load of cum pours its way into the inner depths of your searing warm cunt. tossing his head back in lewd rapture, choso grabs onto your thigh, only for his head to collapse into your chest. with a whiney mumble, he whines out a sweet. “y- yuki, mommy.”

“what?”

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months

Text

Jessie's Girl III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Jessie Fleming x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first Jessie nap

You yawn as Magda unstraps you from the car, curling into her warmth against the frigid winter air.

It's early in the morning, much too early for you to be awake, you think. It's early and cold and you're not wearing much but your pjs and a coat to keep you protected from the weather.

You're not even wearing proper shoes, just little slippers that make it look like sharks are eating your feet.

You did not enjoy your early morning wakeup call today, having been exhausted last night after a long day of playing.

You clutch girl-swan and girl-moose as you rest your head on Magda's shoulder while Pernille grabs all the bags out of the back of the car.

You're going to an away game today, up in Liverpool so it was either travelling up there last night or going super early in the morning.

Clearly, the staff had chosen super early in the morning.

It wasn't the best idea, trying to fit that into your schedule but Pernille had purposely tired you out last night so you would sleep the four hour long trip up north.

But, still, getting you up this morning was a nightmare and your steadfast refusal to get dressed this morning meant packing an extra bag of all the clothes you needed to change into when you got there.

"Hey," Pernille says, jostling the hand that's clinging to Magda's shirt collar," You can't fall asleep yet, princesse. Let's get on the bus first."

"Hmm," You say," Nein, Momma."

It's not uncommon for you to slip into one of your other languages when you're tired and neither Pernille nor Magda have to heart to lecture you about it right now.

Magda makes sure to put a little more bounce in her step as she gets to the bus, stepping on and hoping that it's enough to keep you awake.

"Someone not willing to wake up?" Millie laughs when she sees the pyjamas you're still wearing and the massive bedhead you still haven't had brushed out.

"It was definitely a fight this morning," Magda admits, slipping into her seat and forcing you out of your hiding space in her neck," But we're ready to stay awake now, aren't we?"

"Nej."

Magda sighs. "Not even for a little bit?"

"Night-Night."

Pernille swoops in before you can close your eyes though, putting your sippy cup to your mouth and making you take a long drink before she pulls out your favourite goldfish crackers for you to munch on.

"The little miss decided she didn't want to eat breakfast at home," Pernille says to Millie," So we've compromised."

Pernille makes you eat the whole pack and then have another drink from your sippy cup.

"Alright," She says finally, fishing blankie out of your bag and draping it around your shoulders," Do you still want to sleep now?"

She already knows the answer.

The bus will rock around like the car does and the car has always been her secret weapon to get you to sleep. When you were younger and fussy, all Pernille would have to do is pop you in the car and drive around for a bit until you were out like a light.

She knows the bus will have the same affect.

You push your tiny hand against her chest though as a yawn makes its way through your whole body.

"Not-Not with you," You say and Pernille smothers a smile.

"Alright. With Morsa then?"

Magda opens her arms up for you and you poke a tiny finger against her chest too.

"Not with Morsa."

"What? Why not with me?"

You stick your tongue out in answer before Pernille regains your attention.

"Who do you want to sleep with?"

You're still new to Not-Wolfsburg and you don't know everyone that well yet. You know Millie, kind of, because she's Morsa's friend but you don't think you want to nap with her even though she's big and strong and looks like she gives good hugs.

Your eyes scan through the seats as more and more people climb onto the bus. You rule them all out as they pass you so you're not quite sure who exactly you want.

Until Jessie gets on.

You like Jessie a lot. She's warm and cuddly and speaks English you can understand.

"Jessie!" You announce as she slips into the seat on the other side of the aisle to you.

She smiles at the call of her name, capturing your hand for a brief moment before she sits.

"You want to sleep with Jessie?" Pernille checks and your head bobs up and down furiously.

Jessie is the one you want to nap with.

"Alright then."

Pernille lifts you over the aisle into Jessie's arms.

"Wait...what?"

Jessie is sat in a four seater with a table, like how Momma and Morsa and Millie are sitting. Niamh is opposite her, stretched out across two seats, giggling to herself.

"Princesse would like to nap with you," Magda says," She's all ready for bed."

You point at your special slippers. "Sharks eatin' my feet, Jessie," You tell her before yawning again.

"Oh..er..."

"Stretch out, Jessie," Pernille advises," And just let her lay on you. I promise she doesn't moved around much in her sleep."

Jessie does as she's told and lets you find a comfortable position, turning onto your belly and pressing your head against the crook of your neck.

Your blanket's a little bunched up, she notices as the bus engine roars to life and the driver pulls it onto the road.

Carefully, Jessie spreads it out, curving the edges around your body until you're sufficiently covered.

You shuffle a little bit, getting even more comfortable against your favourite Not-Wolfsburg player.

Across the aisle, only ten minutes later, Millie bites down a laugh.

"Looks like both kids are down for the count."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

688 notes · View notes

dreaming-medium · 9 months

Text

Watch Your Six

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Sensory Deprivation - Han Jisung

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Word Count: 14.8k

Summary: After training for years, you finally become a full fledged agent for KDOI, the Korean Division of Intelligence. Over time, each and every agent becomes something like a family member, including the high-tech nerd who has managed to put a smile on your face since day one. What happens when he's sent with you on his first field mission?

Warnings: Violence, smut (18+) MDNI

A/N: Kinktober is a state of mind. I know its January idc lol I will finish the list of prompts even if it kills me

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Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sound your sneakers make on the treadmill reverberates through the gym. The expensive, high tech plastic mask strapped to your face fogs up with each exhale and clears with each inhale.

To your right, a man holds a clipboard, glasses covered eyes watching your vitals displayed on the monitor hooked up to the mask and other various wires clipped to your body.

You’ve been running for about an hour straight, but your breathing is still even; and just by glancing down at the screen, your heart rate looks the same.

For months, you’ve been training with the federal agency to be one of their field agents. Countless nights were spent pushing yourself to the limit, physically and mentally.

Today was your final evaluation before becoming a full-fledged agent. You were selected out of the hundreds of trainees to test to move on.

It was a great honor, all your hard work was finally paying off.

Maybe you’ll get your first mission after this!

If you pass.

A small bead of sweat drops down the side of your face.

Bored, your eyes wander over to the man studying your every heartbeat.

The thick rimmed glasses that sat on his face have slid down his nose a bit. His lips seem to sit in a constant pout thanks to those pudgy cheeks of his.

Choppy, fluffy brown hair sits on his head like a mop. You can tell he’s run his fingers through it more than a handful of times to get it out of his eyes.

A crisp white lab coat rests over a hoodie and khaki pants. A few different pens and instruments sit in the pocket under an embroidered ‘J’ .

You’ve seen him around the trainees once or twice in the years you’ve been here. From what you’ve gathered, he was one of the technical experts, providing countless gadgets and gizmos for the field agents to use.

The guy that would give the secret agent a lipstick taser before embarking on their world class espionage mission.

He’s pretty and smart— what a lethal combination.

When the man looks back up at the treadmill, your eyes flick back to dead ahead of you.

Reaching forward, he hits the stop button on the treadmill and jots down a few notes on his clipboard, a tiny smile pulls at his handsome face.

The treadmill comes to a gradual stop and so do your legs. One hour exactly sits on the clock.

Nervously, you look down at the screens, to his monitor, looking at anything you can.

“You did extremely well, 586.” There’s a happy tilt to his tone while he scribbles down some more notes, flipping the page, then writing some more. “You can take the mask off now.”

Nodding, you gently take the mask off your face and drape it over the top of the treadmill.

“I have one more examination for you.” He clicks a few buttons on the computer to the side.

Patiently, you stand there waiting for instruction.

He looks up at you with amusement glinting in his big, brown eyes. “You don’t need to be so stiff with me, 586, that’s not part of the tests.”

Your shoulders relax and sag forward a bit. “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Understandable.” He grabs a hold of the cart with the machines on it and rolls it to the side. “Most, if not all, trainees are during their examination. I can’t remember a trainee that wasn’t nervous— well, maybe M, but he’s a special case.”

“Are you J?” you ask, looking down at his lab coat.

“I am,” he answers and steps closer to the treadmill.

He reaches forward and unsnaps the wires hooked onto the leads on your chest. The sticker part stays on, but the wires are removed. Which means you’ll probably be hooked up to another machine soon.

“I’ve seen you around before,” you say to him, studying his face up close.

“I’m always around everywhere,” he jokes, unhooking more wires. “I don’t think there’s a square inch of this agency I haven’t seen.”

“Are you a field agent?”

He scoffs. “No, not me. I could never handle that.”

“But you’re an agent.”

He moves his head side to side. “Of sorts, yeah. B needed a tech guy, so technically I’m an agent. But if you were to send me on a mission, I might cry. I leave those sorts of things up to C or S, or any one of the other agents. Just not me.”

You nod with a small smile of your own.

“Follow me.”

Following his orders, you step off the treadmill and follow after him out of the gym.

“Is there only one of each letter?” you ask.

J laughs. “Actually, yeah.” He leads you towards a side room, it looks like an interrogation room with a large contraption on the center of the table. “It’s easier that way.”

He motions for you to take a seat across the table.

“And unless you fail this psych evaluation, I believe we’re going to be back to 26 again.” J starts fiddling with the machine, pulling wires and leads off the top.

A happy pang goes through your heart. Thank god he hasn’t hooked up the heart monitor yet, he would’ve seen it skyrocket.

“You think?” Nervously, you shift around in the chair.

J chuckles. “I do. I haven’t seen a perfect exam like this in a while. Plus, we saw all the extra training you were putting in.”

Your mouth opens a bit in shock. J looks over at you, holding the wires ready to snap to the leads on your chest.

“We have eyes everywhere, 586. Did you really think we didn’t see that?”

An embarrassed flush crawls on your neck and turns your ears red. “Of course, I know that.”

Again, he chuckles and snaps all the wires to the leads. His fingers are warm in contrast with the cold air of the exam room. Each time his knuckles brush against your skin the feeling lingers.

He places a strap around your head that has two metal leads pressing into your forehead. Even more wires from that strap lead down to the detector.

J looks down at the wires and then turns on the machine. It whirrs to life and a needle starts scribbling out your heart rate on the top.

It’s a lie detector. Of sorts. It looks like more than that.

You’re not going to pretend to understand anything, though. That’s his job.

His eyes watch the needle, he then reaches forward and clips a small cuff on your finger— a steady beeping follows it.

“There we go,” he mutters to himself and takes a seat across from you.

J shuffles papers around on the clipboard to rearrange them.

A large mirror sat on the wall behind him. There’s no way that’s not one way glass. Is there anyone on the other side watching your evaluation? Or is it just the two of you? Is there another higherup keeping track of your answers? Maybe it’s B? Or maybe other agents are spectating to see how you are.

You would be working closely with them, after all. If the roles were reversed, you’re sure you would watch.

“Ready?” J’s voice interrupts your thoughts.

Your eyes snap to him and you nod.

“Is your name Y/N L/N?” he asks, looking down at the clipboard.

It’s been so long since you’ve heard your real name. Two years? Yeah, two years. You’ve only been referred to as 586 since you joined.

“Yes.”

J looks at the contraption for a few seconds, taking note of the way it moves. He makes a small tick on the paper.

“Can you verify your date of birth for me?”

You do as he says, saying it like second nature. Again, he repeats the same motion of watching your heart rate and making a small tick.

The questions start out simple. Where were you born? What are your parent’s names? Do you have any siblings? All questions that you would make a security question for your bank.

“Now, let’s get to the real questions. Just answer honestly and you have nothing to worry about, okay, 586?” J’s voice is calm and smooth.

Something about this guy makes you want to tell him everything regardless of if you’re hooked up to several machines.

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

KDOI: The Korean Division of Intelligence. Your dream job since you were a young girl.

“No.”

After your answer, J watches your heart rate for even longer than before. He makes a tick on the clipboard.

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency after enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Another tick.

“Have you ever participated in an organized event that openly opposed KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick.

“Have you ever had malicious thoughts about KDOI or the agents working within it?”

“No, quite the opposite. I admire KDOI.” You add the last part with a sheepish smile.

J grins when he makes the next tick on the paper.

“Next section…” he murmurs. “Have you recently had thoughts of suicide?”

“No.”

Tick.

Question after question comes from his mouth. You answer honestly to each of them, not even hesitating to let the reply leave your lips.

“Did you have thoughts of suicide prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick.

“Do you ever have thoughts of harming others?”

“No.”

Tick.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“N- what?” Your eyes widen and you stare at him incredulously. There’s no way that’s on the evaluation.

J feigns ignorance and points down to the clipboard. In exaggerated movements, he motions down to it and shrugs, puffing air in his cheeks and just making a meal out of this fake performance.

“I can’t believe it either but there it is. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’”

You tongue your cheek and smirk a bit. “No, J, I do not.”

J nods and scribbles down more than just a tick while looking at the heart monitor. “Interesting…”

He makes a few last notes before his eyes widen and he looks up at you, pointing his pen in your direction. “No girlfriend either, right?”

You roll your eyes, “No, no girlfriend either.”

Isn’t this an official evaluation? For a government official secret organization that grants people a license to kill?

He asked you if you were single immediately after asking if you’ve had thoughts of suicide. Is this guy for real?

You slow blink at him while he finishes up the form on his end.

“Well!” he exclaims happily, hitting the clipboard on the metal table. You don’t even flinch. “I believe we’re all finished here.”

Your heart squeezes with nerves.

J stands up from the table and rounds the table towards you.

So badly you want to ask for the results of your exam. Are you in? Did you pass? Are you an agent?

“B needs to sign off on all the paperwork,” J trails off, his hands reaching forward to unhook all the wires from the leads stuck to your skin. “But… I don’t think there’s any issue with me welcoming you to the agency. Officially.”

Since the heart monitor was still hooked up, you can hear the needle suddenly spike and scribble large peaks on the paper.

J turns his head to look at it. An amused smirk crosses his face and a chuckle huffs through his chest. “Funny,” he says to himself and then turns back to you.

Sheepishly, you look away from him.

“That’s what gets your heart rate to spike?” J sits on the corner of the table and folds his arms across his chest.

You bite your cheek and avoid his eyes. “Well, this has been my dream job since I was a young girl; so, yes, you alluding to me becoming an official agent would raise my heart rate.”

J scoffs. His warm fingers suddenly grab your face, thumb on one cheek and his middle and pointer finger on the other. He turns your head to face him.

When your gaze snaps to his face, you see that there’s a cocky smirk on his face but his eyes are focused down on the heart monitor. The needle stays steady much to his obvious distaste.

He sucks teeth in disbelief. “Really?”

“Is this another test?” your voice comes out muffled due to him holding your cheeks.

J rolls his eyes with a frown. “Yeah, let’s go with that.” He releases your face and slides the strap off your head.

The leads on your chest are soon to come off after that. J is careful not to rip the sticky pads off your skin too fast so that it doesn’t sting. He rubs the site with a bit of rubbing alcohol afterwards to get rid of the residue.

“How long have you been at the agency?” you ask. You’re curious about him.

He defeats all the ‘Secret Agent’ stereotypes. He’s personable and warm— and a bit flirtatious. He’s not at all the cold, all-business type you were used to. That’s how more than half the trainees were.

It’s not that you were cold, no. You just kept to yourself and worked hard.

And you made sure your personality didn’t fade during that time either.

J’s nose crinkles up while he thinks. His hands slow down in the process. “Hmm,” he hums. “Maybe four years now? Yeah, sounds about right.”

Your eyes widen. “Four years? How old are you?”

He smirks. “Don’t you know never to ask a young man his age.”

“I guess if you’re not going to tell me…” you trail off. “I’ll just say twenty eight then.”

“Twenty ei—!” he stammers and takes the last lead off your chest. “I’m twenty two!”

“Wasn’t so hard was it?”

J grumbles and turns around to finish putting the machine away. But there’s an amused tilt to the corner of his puffy lips and a playful glint in his eye.

“So you started when you were eighteen?”

“Yep.”

“Child prodigy?”

“Taken right from high school.”

“Impressive.”

J laughs under his breath. “Everyone seems to think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “Everyone here is a prodigy of some sort. It’s easy to blend in and somehow appear mediocre when surrounded by Korea’s most elite minds and bodies.”

“I don’t think you’re mediocre.”

“You haven’t met everyone else yet.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer again. J grabs your clipboard and takes the papers off it, handing them to you.

“Bring these to B, he has to sign off on the final enlistment.” You take the stack from him. “The guard outside the door will bring you up to his office.”

You look down at the papers, your heart rate picking up faster and faster the more you think about it.

J puts his hand on your lower back and ushers you towards the door. It tingles at the base of your spine. He reaches in front of you and opens the door, motioning for you to exit first. The hand on your lower back twitches and it feels like he almost scratches it twice before urging you forward and dropping it.

It’s weirdly comforting.

It doesn’t feel weird at all.

You turn back to look at him, “Thank you, J.”

He smiles. Those round cheeks get even bigger when it happens.

“Welcome to KDOI, X .”

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Two years goes by in the blink of an eye when working with a government agency. Especially when a majority of your assignments can take anywhere from a week to two months at a time.

The agents you work with are the only constant in your life. Other faces flitter in and out of your life like leaves falling off trees. You don’t grow attached to anyone outside of this organization, you can’t afford to.

You’re not complaining, not at all. You love the life you have now. It’s everything you ever wanted.

Everyone at KDOI is a family, you’re all each other has. It’s an unspoken, special bond.

When you first started, you were welcomed in with open arms. Obviously, some agents were warmer than others at first— or maybe it’s just that some were better at first impressions than others.

Maybe other people would have been upset with M’s standoffishness when you first introduced yourself. But, after a hot coffee appeared on your desk not even five minutes after complaining about being cold to him and only him, you knew he wasn’t detached and icy at all.

Other agents, like F, have been nothing but a ball of sunshine. He was the one you ate lunch with every single day while you were at the agency. Whilst sitting by yourself in the cafeteria on day one, he took it upon himself to plop himself in the seat right across from you.

H is your favorite agent to go on long assignments with. He never fails to be a constant source of entertainment and intelligent conversation— with the occasional stupid ass comment that makes you question where the man you were just talking to went.

Slowly but surely, you’ve also started learning their real names. Learning someone’s real name was apparently the equivalent of leaving you in their will around here.

There was a time and place to refer to them as their real name. It was a line you tiptoed constantly.

Surprisingly, it was M who told you his name first: Minho. It was completely unprompted too. It was in the jet returning from a three week mission where you had saved him from at least five different gunshot wounds by tackling him to the ground.

The others trickled in afterwards.

Y, or Jeongin, was shocked when you didn’t know his name. And immediately told you afterwards with a cute, wide smile on his face.

Even though every single agent has become a part of you, one particular agent seems to have captured a larger part of your soul than the others.

“J,” you say casually, slipping behind him to stand on the other side of his cluttered workbench.

Jisung. He had told you his name when you had lingered in his workshop late one night, not wanting to go back to your dorm quite yet.

“Hello, X,” he grins without looking up at you. The glasses on his nose have fallen forward.

His laptop is his primary focus, several wires are running from the computer to a tiny little gadget that looks no bigger than a cell phone. It has a small LED screen with different colored pixels bouncing around it.

Jisung’s workshop was one of your favorite places in the agency. There was always music playing, a computer always had some sort of TV on silent with the subtitles on, and there were always snacks everywhere.

You consider it a second dorm, really. As soon as you’re done training for the day, you usually find yourself here.

“When did you get back?” he asks, clicking a few keys and looking over at the gadget, then back to his computer.

“Maybe two hours ago?”

“And it took you this long to come say hi?”

“I had to shower.”

“ And you didn’t invite me?” his cheeky smile gets bigger.

You smack the back of his head, the glasses fall even more. You’re surprised they don’t tumble off his face.

If one thing has remained constant since your exam day, it’s the relentless flirting. The guy can’t go more than five minutes without saying some sort of teasing comment.

It should bother you.

But it doesn’t.

At this point, you’ve gotten quite used to it. If he ever stopped, then you might be a bit concerned. You might even miss it.

But you would never tell him that.

Jisung makes a tiny ‘gah’ noise and rubs the back of his head in fake pain. He pushes his glasses up his nose and looks over at you.

“I missed you so much and the first thing you do is hurt me,” he whines.

“I wasn’t gone that long.”

“Two long months without my girlfriend.”

“ Not your girlfriend.”

He clutched his chest through his baggy black hoodie. “Another wound.”

You cross your arms and giggle a bit. “Well get used to me not being here. B is sending me on another assignment tomorrow.”

Jisung frowns. “I know, he asked me to be at your debrief tomorrow morning.” He lets out a whine. “You just got back! Usually you’re around for at least two weeks in between missions.”

Shrugging, you look around the room. The digital clock on the wall read 10:29 PM. He’s usually the only one in here past 5:30, he tends to lose track of time easily when working on projects.

“It’s part of the job,” you say casually.

Jisung grumbles again, looking down at his laptop once more. “Yeah, well it sucks. Everyone’s always coming and going. Meanwhile I’m stuck here all day every day.”

“I thought you didn’t do field work.”

“I don’t . I just also hate that I’m trapped here while everyone gets to travel with one another.”

You narrow your eyes. “You do know we’re not sightseeing, right?”

Jisung balks. “Of course I know that.” He pauses. “But I did see that picture that you and Changbin took at Buckingham Palace.”

You bite your lip to stop the smile. “Not my fault it just so happened to be by our hotel.”

“Bang said if we had a Christmas card he would use that picture.”

The smile you’re fighting gets even bigger. You hesitate before speaking up again. “It’s a good picture.”

Jisung’s head drops and he places both of his hands on the table. “See what I mean?” he groans.

“Just tell Bang that you want field work.”

Jisung’s head shoots up and he stares at you with wide eyes. “I would die in the field!”

“You would not. One of us would be there to save your hide. You really think Minho would let you die?”

“I think he would load the gun himself.”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest. Uncrossing your arms, you turn around and lean against the table.

“Ji, we would make sure you were safe if you were to come out in the field with us. It’s our job.”

“Your job is to carry out the mission.”

“I wouldn’t give a damn about the mission if your life was on the line.”

Jisung’s mouth snaps shut. His eyebrows fly up his forehead.

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his knuckles turn white from gripping the counter so hard.

His Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp.

You shouldn’t have said something like that, shouldn’t you? Your job is to carry out government missions. Personal feelings should never be put first, you know that.

So why did you say that?

Fuck, you shouldn’t have said that.

The shock on Jisung’s face quickly morphs into a cocky smirk. It’s a mask. You can see in his eyes he’s still a bit shocked.

“I knew you were in love with me.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes and push off the table. “I’m going back to my dorm to sleep. Goodnight, J.”

Your hand slides to his lower back and you scratch twice over his lab coat and hoodie.

Ever since your exam day, the two of you do this small gesture to each other all the time. It could be when he passes behind you in the cafe line or comes up behind you in the training room. It’s such a tiny, personal gesture.

Sometimes on the coldest nights in the field, you’ll find yourself aching for that small touch.

“You’re so head over heels in love with me, X!” he calls after you, again, clutching at his heart and overacting like he’s swooning.

“I’m leaving!”

“You just got here!” he whines.

“Bye.”

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away, X!”

“Night!” you repeat, letting the door shut after you.

You walk down the hallway of the agency with a goofy smile on your face.

“Idiot,” you mumble to yourself.

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B’s office was at the very top of the large building, the windows overlooked the entirety of Seoul. Everything inside the office exuded money and power. The wood of the bookshelves was black and sleek and always dust free.

Inside the office was so large there was an entire sitting area with two sofas and two loveseats around a coffee table.

There was always a bergamot candle burning on a side table there.

It was just about 10 AM when you stepped inside.

“Ah, X, thank you so much for coming in.” B stands up from his large desk chair to welcome you in.

Bang Chan, the leader of KDOI, and the most unassuming man you’ve ever met. When you brought him your final exam paperwork that fateful day you thought you were in the wrong office.

This whole time you were expecting a wrinkly old man, not a twenty-something with dimples.

But, at this point, you’ve learned to not be surprised by anything anymore.

Maybe you were surprised at the fact that the other man in the room made no move to even look at you.

Jisung sat in the other chair in front of the desk, his face sheet white. Both of his hands are gripped in tight fists on top of his pants.

Your warm smile fades from your face as you take in his ghastly expression.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Chan’s lips form a tight line as he motions to the chair for you to sit in. “I was going over your next assignment with J before you got here.”

“Apologies, am I late?”

“No, not at all. I had J come in a little early to talk to him one on one.”

You glance over at Jisung who looks like he hasn’t even blinked. Alarm bells are going off inside your head. Not even a nod in your direction?

“What’s this assignment about, B?” You look back to your boss.

He slides a manilla envelope across the desk to you, you take it without a second thought. Chan picks up a tiny remote off his desk and presses a button. Shades slowly come down over the window, bathing the room in darkness. Another beep on the remote and a holographic screen projects from the floor next to the desk.

Both you and Chan turn your chairs to go over the debrief, Jisung stays still. Part of you wants to snap your fingers in front of his face to see if he’s still alive or not.

Instead, you focus on your job.

“I know you’re used to more recoup time, but I’m afraid this assignment is pretty urgent.” Chan clicks the remote. A grainy CCTV picture is displayed on the screen. “The international gang you’ve been dealing with lately, the Ice Crows, have shown their face again.”

Chan zooms in on the image. Several higher ups of the gang are getting out of a black SUV. They’re all dressed in fancy suits smoking cigars.

The last time you dealt with them was about five months ago when their trail had gone cold over in Canada.

“When and where was this taken?” you ask.

“Yesterday. Paris. Where you and J will be headed after this.”

Your head snaps over to look at Chan.

With Jisung? No wonder the guy looked like he was eight inches from death!

Your eyes slide to the engineer, he’s still staring forward. A cold sweat on his brow.

“J is coming with me?”

Chan points your attention back to the debrief. “Allow me to continue.”

You spare one last look Jisung. The poor guy is shaking in his boots. Your hands itch to reach out and comfort him, but you have to remain professional.

That’s for after the debrief.

“There’s an auction being held at the Palais des Congrès. Several large and important pieces are being shown there. Including…” Bang switches the slides and displays an expensive painting. “The Refuge, which was stolen no more than two months ago by the Ice Crows. They’re putting it up for auction when it belongs back in Korea.”

Your eyes narrow. “This seems like a pretty rookie cut and dry assignment, B. You need me to get the painting back. I don’t understand why J has to come with me, he doesn’t do field work.”

The conversation the two of you had the previous night echoes in your mind.

B nods. “I know. Let me get there, X.” He switches the slide to display the floor plan of the museum. “This convention center is rather high tech, as you can see. It’s equipped with blockers that don’t allow any outside waves to make it past their walls. Any and all technical communication has to come within the building.”

“So, you’re sending J with me because he’s the only one that can operate field equipment? S can operate simple transmitters and trackers.”

“It’s more than that, X. The painting will be behind several different firewalls and security systems that not even S can hack through. J needs to be with you and he needs to be in that building.”

You take a deep breath and look over at Jisung. His hundred yard stare has moved from the window and is now focused down on his lap.

“He’ll be in your hotel room the entire time. You’ll be doing the recon and walking through the convention center to get where you need to be.”

Jisung pulls his lips between his teeth. His body finally came back to life. “I won’t need to leave the room?” His voice is hoarse.

“No,” Chan answers quickly. “Not until you’re leaving to come back home.”

Jisung shifts on his chair, unfurling his fists and swallowing thickly.

“I understand your apprehension, J, I do. But I need you on this.”

Jisung watches him closely and then offers a weak nod. He glanced over at you.

“I wouldn’t put you with X unless I was sure that she would watch your six.”

You nod and steel your expression. “I won’t let anything happen to you, J.”

Color returns to J’s cheeks at your words. He gulps and takes a deep breath, his shoulders rolling back and remaining stiff.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay, I’ll do it.” He’s more confident the second time.

“Good.” Chan clasps his hands together. “Stay safe, agents. Amusez vouis bien!”

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You and Jisung were the only ones inside the cabin of the agency’s private jet. It took off the runway only about four minutes ago.

The brunette sat across from you, his eyes focused out the window at the clouds below. His posture is anything but relaxed. He’s sitting ramrod straight in the large cushioned chair.

You don’t think his muscles have released since you both were in Chan’s office. Even through the thick layers of his comfortable traveling clothes you can clearly read his uneasy body language.

“You okay?” you ask gently.

“No,” he mutters back. Duh.

You bite the inside of your cheek, completely unsure of what to do or say. This was never a part of your training. Maybe you should’ve picked up a copy of ‘ Comforting Friends for Dummies ’ when you had the chance.

Killing targets? Easy!

Provide detailed surveillance on a suspicious person? Done!

Soothe an anxious friend? Not so simple.

Jisung’s cheeks seem even puffier than usual, lips pursed in a pout. There’s no sparkle to his eyes like you’re used to.

Taking a deep breath, you lean back in your seat and look around the plane. You crack your knuckles, displaying your own nerves.

“Do you know the best part of staying at hotels during missions?” you ask him to break the silence.

Jisung hums in acknowledgement, he continues to watch the clouds below.

“You get to order all the room service you want— it comes out of the agency’s card.” You smirk.

He shifts around in his seat. His hands that were tightly gripping the armrests relax a bit.

“Last assignment I was on with Hyunjin, we were in a seaport town, the hotel made these bacon wrapped scallops… man… I ate so many I thought I was going to explode.” You pat your stomach.

Jisung finally looks at you. “Bacon wrapped scallops?”

You nod and smile at him. “You’ll be in the room the entire time. Think of all the room service you’ll get to order.”

“I’ve never had bacon wrapped scallops.”

“It’s Paris, who knows what they’ll offer there. And it all goes on Bang’s card.”

Jisung finally smiles. It wavers for a second, like he’s sheepish to do it. It’s paired with a breathy chuckle. He looks down at his lap and lets his body fall forward a bit, elbows resting on his knees.

His knee bounces anxiously and the exhales he lets out are shaky.

“God, Y/N,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “I can’t help but freak out.”

“Understandable.”

“It’s my first time out in the field.”

“I know.”

“What if something happens?”

You roll your eyes. “I would be more surprised if something didn’t happen, Jisung.”

His head shoots up. The color drains from his face. His pouty lips part a few times like he’s trying to find the right words to say.

“But I’m prepared for it, Jisung.” You lean forward, mirroring his posture and take his hands between yours. “I’m prepared to take care of whatever pops up to keep you safe, okay?”

His jaw clenches and he stares deeply into his eyes. The hands in yours are so warm in stark contrast to your always-cold ones.

“And if anything terrible happens then I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of it. Trust in me, okay? I have to take care of KDOI’s resident nerd, after all.”

“Resident nerd…” he scoffs.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Did I ever tell you what happened on my first mission with Minho?”

Jisung shakes his head.

“It was supposed to be easy! The intel that KDOI had gotten was that there was going to be a large drug exchange somewhere in the States, Minho was sent with me. And my lord, our intel was off.”

Thinking about the memory makes you giggle to this day.

“It was an international, high profile cartel that Bang has been trying to nail down for years. Well, during a small scout, I got my ass captured. I wasn’t watching my six like I should’ve.”

Jisung’s eyes widen. Obviously, he wasn’t told about this. It’s not like you enjoy flaunting the story around.

“I had a gun to the back of my head, the leader of the cartel was screaming for Minho to come out from where he was hiding or he’d kill me. God, I’ve never been so afraid in my life. My first assignment and I already had a gun to my skull.

“Minho, being the amazing agent he is, found the right vantage point and took the guy out. I was able to evade the crossfire after that, but honestly those bullets weren’t what scared me, it was the idea that Minho was disappointed in me.”

He was the agent you looked up to the most after all. He was the one that all these great stories and tales were all about. Minho was the harrowing hero of KDOI who was able to ace every mission handed to him.

“But he didn’t even say anything about it. Even when I apologized over and over again, he just shrugged and said it was part of the job. And I get it now. It is just part of the job. So don’t worry, okay?”

Jisung swallows once, chin dipping down with a stiff nod. He turns his hands around in yours to grasp your fingers.

A playful smirk creeps up on his face. “I can’t believe it…”

Your head cocks to the side and you watch him closely. He’s studying your manicured nails, his thumbs swipe over the digits softly. It’s a tender movement.

“What?” you ask.

“I can’t believe how in love with me you are.”

You rip your hands out of his and swat forward just as fast.

With a barking laugh, he moves out of the way of your slap. You swing again and again, each time his laughter gets louder and louder.

“First last night, now this? Are you going to propose to me next?”

You know this is just his way of evading thinking about how scared he is, but if that’s what it takes to make him feel better, you’ll allow it. If a distraction is what he needs, then you’ll give it to him.

“Love hurts!” he cries out when you land a solid smack on his arm. “They were right!”

“It’s going to kill you, that’s what it’s going to do.”

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

By the time you and Jisung get to the convention center and check into the hotel it’s nearing seven at night. The gala isn’t being held until tomorrow, so you both have some time to relax and settle in.

It leaves Jisung plenty of time to set up everything he needs inside your hotel room.

You both checked in without a hitch, getting your keys and practically falling into the room. Jet Lag is pulling your eyelids shut and weighing down on your chest like an elephant.

Flicking the lights on, you blink your bleary eyes a few times, staring down at the large bed sitting in the middle of your hotel room.

One king sized bed.

You’d love to say this hasn’t happened before but you never know what to expect on missions. There have been places where there’s been one bed, two beds, bunk beds , and even separate bedrooms once or twice.

On one occasion Hyunjin slept on the floor since you were only given one twin sized bed and you were not about to share that tiny space with the man who likes to spread out all of his limbs and hog the blanket at the same time.

So, at this point, you don’t even care if there’s only one bed.

You shrug it off and plop your bag next to the dresser and let your body fall back onto the plush mattress with an ‘oof!’

Jisung, on the other hand, hovers around the doorway, both hands still gripping the two rolling suitcases full of his equipment. “I can sleep on the pull out couch,” he says thickly.

“Ji, it’s fine, we can share a bed, we’re both adults here,” you tease him. “As long as you don’t put your cold feet on me, I don’t care.”

“I don’t have cold feet,” he grumbles and wheels his suitcases towards the small table on the other side of the room.

You let your eyes slide shut on the bed. The gentle hum of the air conditioner already lulling your brain to sleep. With how exhausted you are, it wouldn’t take much for you to give into the pull anyway.

Jisung opens up the suitcases and starts unloading every piece of technology that he has brought with him. Various wires and computer parts thud against the wood of the table.

He stops for a second.

“And how would you know if I did have cold feet?”

A laugh is punched from your chest at the abrupt question. It’s a deep belly laugh. “Let’s just say there is a loose lipped agent among us.”

Jisung pauses. “Minho said he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“He wasn’t going to until I started teasing him about his purchase of fuzzy socks.”

“You were with him when he bought those?”

“I helped him choose between two different pairs.” You crack one eye open to look at him. “The purple pair was my idea.”

Jisung groans and slides his laptop open, the typing on his keys is a lot more aggressive. You giggle again at his outward display of frustration.

You let your eyes close again, listening to him shuffle his things around the wooden table muttering in between movements about how his feet aren’t that cold, they’re just colder than the rest of his body.

An easy smile finds its way on your face and you listen to his quiet ramblings until sleep finally washes over your tired mind.

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

“You were right,” Jisungs voice says in your earpiece. “Room service is fucking awesome.”

A waiter with a tray full of champagne flutes passes by, you grab one as he strides by your side.

“I told you,” you say quietly while bringing the glass up to your lips to take a sip. “What did you order?”

“I think the better question is what didn’t I order.” His mouth sounds full when he answers you.

He’s up on the 14th floor of the convention hall while you’re downstairs at the gala in a sleek, red silk dress. Your hair and makeup done exquisitely well, beautiful silver heels match the diamond jewelry adorning your skin.

You blend right in to everyone around you.

“I heard that their oysters are fantastic.”

“I think that’s part of what I ordered.” You can hear several dishes being pushed around. “Yep, right here. Although, they don’t look as appetizing as I thought.”

“They’re not really a lounge snack.”

“For rich people they are.”

The mission started about an hour ago when you made your way into the main event hall. The auction for the painting is going to begin in about another hour.

Your first task of the night is to locate the painting before the auction and place a minuscule tracking device on it to locate later once it’s sold.

There was only one way you knew to get close enough to The Refuge.

“Oh. Three tables back to your 8 is your first target of the night, X.”

Paternino ‘Pink Panther’ Cardi. One of the Ice Crows inner circle members. He can’t resist swiping whatever paintings he can get his grimy fingers on; but, he also can’t resist bragging to an attractive woman.

You turn nonchalantly to find him already eyeing you up with dark eyes.

He’s your typical mafia member. In fact, if you had to draw a cartoon of a mobster, it would look like Paternino.

You hold his searing eye contact while taking another sip from your champagne. The mobster lowers his chin and lets his tongue dart out to lick his lips.

At first, seduction wasn’t a part of the job you particularly excelled at. But after doing it for so long, it comes naturally.

Batting your lashes, you smirk at him and then turn to walk towards his table, your hips swaying in the process. Maybe you exaggerate your movements a bit, but it has the exact effect you need on Paternino.

He’s sitting at a large round booth all by himself, legs spread wide in a show-of-power manner. A large swig of whiskey is taken out of his glass before you get to him.

“Don’t you know that a beautiful woman such as yourself deserves a better drink than the venue provided champagne?” He motions to the booth seat next to him.

You place your glass on the table and slide gracefully next to him. The effort you put into this is going to need to be quick, you don’t have long to locate the painting.

“And I suppose a handsome man like yourself knows just what to order a woman like me?” Your voice is coy and seductively low.

In your ear, you hear Jisung take a tiny, shaky breath. Does he know the intercom is still activated on his end?

Paternino slides towards you a bit more so now you can smell the expensive cologne wafting off him. It’s almost too overpowering.

“A woman like you, hm?” He rests his arm on the booth behind your shoulders, lifting one hand to signal a waiter to come by. “Look into my eyes, let me see if I can guess your drink of choice.”

You rest your chin on top of your folded hands, your elbows resting on the table. His eye contact is intense and vivid, it makes your skin crawl.

Paternino hums again. “A sapphire martini.”

“Nope,” Jisung says with a chuckle.

You give a tiny, fake gasp. “How did you know?”

“I know a woman with taste when I see her.” He takes another swig of his whiskey while staring at you. “A sapphire martini for the lady.”

There must have been a waiter next to the table. You fight the urge to turn and look, instead opting to look at Paternino through your lashes.

“Your turn, Beautiful. Why don’t you make an assumption about me?”

“I assume you’re an asshole with a tiny dick.”

Humming, you scoot even closer to Paternino, your fingers come up and walk up his chest to come around his tie.

“I think,” you whisper lowly, coming closer to his own face, forcing your eyes to look down at his lips for a split second then back up at his eyes. “That you’re a powerful man around here, and that you don’t take no for an answer.”

His lips curl up in a cocky smirk. The arm that was previously on the booth, comes around your shoulders. His fingers feel clammy on your exposed skin.

“Very observant, my lady. Anything else?”

The sound of a glass being delicately placed reaches your ears. You reach out and grab the martini glass without looking, bringing it closer to you.

“No, no, it’s your turn.”

He smiles. You’re so close to his face you can hear his exhales, smell the whiskey on his breath.

You sip your own martini. God, it’s awful. You hate martinis.

Paternino slides a finger underneath the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I think you would look gorgeous without this in the way.” He tugs on the strap.

“Zero out of ten. Horrible pick up line. Try again.”

Jisung’s snarky words in your ear are oddly calming to your racing heart. He keeps bringing you down to Earth.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about your clothes.” You tug his tie. “The auction doesn’t start for some time. How about you show me somewhere private we can go and we can see if both of us are right.”

“Uuuuggghhhhhhh…”

“I like that idea, I know just the place, Beautiful.” Paternino slides out of the booth and holds out his hand, which you grab a hold of gingerly to stand up and be led away from the main gala floor.

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

It takes five minutes for Paternino to lead you to the room where The Refuge is being stored. It only takes you ten seconds to knock him out cold with one solid hit to the back of the head.

His body hits the ground like a sack of potatoes in the dark storage room.

“Fucking finally,” Jisung groans in your ear.

“Sorry, it was the only way I knew to get back here.”

“That was torture, X. I’m never doing this again.”

You roll your eyes and pick up Paternino’s ragdolling body under the arms, dragging him across the room and stuffing him inside a storage closet with his arms and legs tied together and duct tape over his mouth.

“Now, which one is The Refuge?” you mutter looking around at all the art around the room. There’s sculptures, painting, glass blown pieces, everything you would see in a museum.

“I wonder if The Refuge is the only stolen thing in here?”

Sighing, you walk around the room, trying to recognize anything. “Probably not. But it’s the only one we know about.”

You find the painting eventually sitting at the very back of the room covered by a large sheet. When you walk up to it, you take your earring out of your ear and slide the back off— which is where you were keeping the tracker.

You tuck the tracker in the back of the painting between the canvas in the wood. It wouldn’t slip out nor would anyone notice.

“Perfect.”

“I can see it on the map still, you’re all good. Now get out of there.”

“Anyone coming on the cams?”

“No, you’re clear.”

You take your other earring out and throw it in the garbage can by the door. They were fake anyway and you don’t feel like looking like a freak with one in.

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

When you returned to the event hall, people were taking their seats for the auction, so you followed suit. Grabbing another drink from the bar before you sat down.

“Vodka tonic?”

“Always,” you say under your breath.

You watch the bartender make your drink with close eyes.

Now you just needed to wait until the auction was over to get the painting back. Your job was half over.

Through the earpiece, you can hear knocks on Jisung’s hotel room door.

“More room service?”

“I… I didn’t order anything.”

Alarm bells go off in your mind. “Don’t answer it.”

Jisung stays silent for a few moments. You’re no longer watching the bartender, you’re focusing intently on what you can hear in your ear.

“J.” You state, trying to get an update from him.

“I think they’re gone.”

Before you can even think about being relaxed there’s a loud bang on the other side of the intercom and Jisung shrieks from surprise.

“X! X, they’re in the room! X!” His voice shouts into your ear.

You’re already running out of the event hall, your dress hiked up in your hands.

“J, there’s a gun strapped to the bottom of the table, use it!”

You can hear gruff voices screaming at Jisung not to move, that they’d kill him if he even twitched a muscle.

“X, there’s five of them.” He whispers quietly.

“J, listen to me, stay calm, I’ll be there in five minutes.” You burst through the stairwell and start climbing two at a time, even in your heels. The elevator would’ve taken too long. “Do what you need to stay alive, fuck the assignment. Stay alive.”

“X.” It’s a whimper and it stabs you through the heart. The yelling gets louder and louder.

Jisung begs for mercy. You can hear the desperation in his voice, it pushes your legs to move faster and faster up the stairs.

“Si—“

The earpiece goes dead after a gunshot.

Your knees wobble and you lose your momentum.

Oh my god, no, fuck, please.

Reaching out, you grab the railing to keep your balance on one of the landings.

“J?” you scream. “J, can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not a single voice comes through. Not even static.

Maybe they just shot the equipment. That has to be it. They didn’t shoot him. They wouldn’t. Right?

You steel your nerves and launch yourself up the remaining steps. By the time you reach the 14th floor, you’re not even winded.

The long hallway is colder than the stairwell. You take off sprinting towards your room, sharply rounding the few corners that you come across. Right before your own stretch of hallway, you slow down to a walk. It kills you but you have to do it.

In the distance, right in front of your room, you see two large men in black suits standing guard. They take notice of you immediately.

“What are you doing up here, ma’am?” One asks as you walk closer.

“My room is up here, honey.”

He looks to his partner and then back at you. “Turn around and walk the other way.”

“Why?” you ask, only about ten feet away.

“Just do it, sweet cheeks.”

Your eyebrow cocks and before he can react, you walk up and throw a sharp right hook into his jaw. The bone in his face cracks and he stumbles down onto the ground.

His partner yells in surprise and starts fumbling for his gun. When his hand raises to shoot you, you grab his arm and aim his weapon down so when he discharges it, it shoots right into his partner.

Then, you pull his arm so he falls forward into you. You swing the heel of your palm upwards right into his nose. With your free hand, you reach down and grab the tiny pistol that was strapped to your thigh.

Before the second goon could recover, you shoot him right in the head.

The sound of gunshots obviously alerted the remaining three gang members in the room. Two of them come barreling out into the hallway with their weapons drawn.

Immediately, you shoot the first one in the head, he hits the ground before he even knows what hit him. The other gang member yelps in shock before you shoot him too.

Within two minutes there are four bodies in the hallway.

Carefully, you walk into your hotel room, keeping your back against the wall and your gun cocked.

“Shut the fuck up,” a gruff voice says roughly.

Jisung said there were five of them. The fifth must be the one holding him hostage.

Quietly, you inch closer and closer to the corner of the wall. Once you turn around, he’ll be right in front of you.

You gulp and take one deep breath before coming around the corner, gun pointed forward.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” That same deep voice calls out.

Your heart drops.

Another typical looking crook is pointing his gun at the closed wardrobe doors in the corner of the room.

Where is Jisung? Where is he? Is he in the wardrobe? He has to be inside the wardrobe.

“Why don’t you drop the gun, sweetie.” The mobster says darkly.

You stay still with the gun pointed at him despite his words. The trigger seems to burn your finger. It's aching to be pulled.

Is Jisung in the wardrobe? Is he in there and you can’t see him?

Or is this guy trying to pull a fast one on you to get you to drop your weapon?

Fuck, is Jisung in the wardrobe?

“I said drop the fucking gun.” He moves to pull the hammer back of his own pistol and you don’t hesitate even for a second.

You pull your own trigger.

He drops to the ground with a bullet wound directly in his head.

You sprint across the room and rip open the wardrobe doors.

Empty.

It’s empty.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeat under your breath frantically. You blink your eyes over and over again hoping that he would suddenly appear.

You even go so far as to open and close the wardrobe door three more times, each time more frantic.

“Fuck!”

Where the fuck is he if he’s not inside this room?

The equipment on the table has a bullet hole through Jisung’s main laptop but no blood anywhere near it. But his glasses are. They’re lying on the floor with a crack through one of the lenses.

Did they move him to another location? He doesn’t have a tracker on him like you do.

With a yell of anguish, you turn and kick the dead mobster at your feet. His limp body rolls over and his jacket pocket falls open.

A hotel room key tucked inside the pocket catches your attention. You crouch down and pick it up.

‘1833’ is written on the back of the key.

It’s not a great lead, but your legs are running out of your hotel room before you even think twice. Obviously they moved him somewhere else to lead you into their trap and it didn’t work. Not with how well you were trained.

You burst through the door leading to the 18th floor, heeled shoes sprinting down the hallway towards where room 1833 would be.

As soon as you’re in front of the door, you click the hammer back of your gun and hold it out in front of you, swiping the key in the handle with your free hand.

The lock clicks open and you push the handle down slowly, trying to cause the least amount of noise as possible. All of the lights are off inside of the hotel room, save for one lamp. The yellow glow radiates on the wall.

There’s no noise.

Everything is completely silent save for the quiet hum of the air conditioning pumping through the room.

Until you hear a sniffle, a huff, and then another sniffle.

Inching across the floor, you slide your back against the wall like you did previously, listening for any more key sounds that would alert you that there are more people inside the room.

Taking one last deep breath, you round the corner and point your gun forward.

Even in the dark you know exactly what you’re seeing.

In the middle of the room stood Han Jisung; his hands tied together with a rope coming from the ceiling, a blindfold around his eyes and earplugs shoved into his ears. From here you can see the wetness from his tears being absorbed by the blindfold. There’s a gag tied around his mouth muffling tiny sobs.

You don’t allow yourself to fall victim to false security, you look around the room closely, making sure no one else is lying in wait for you to fall into yet another trap.

No other soul is inside this hotel room with you.

Dropping the gun onto the bed, you cross the room towards Jisung as quickly as possible.

He must sense another presence in front of him, his entire body stiffens and another louder sob is swallowed by the gag. He backs up away from you as much as his restraints allowed– which was next to nothing.

“Jisung,” you say in relief. “Oh god.”

Without thinking twice about it, you reach around and brush your hand on his lower back, scratching twice.

Jisung’s chest heaves with another sob, even through the gag in his mouth, you can hear him whimper your name. His entire body relaxes and he falls towards you, the ties on his hands tugging even more.

You reach up and yank the gag out of his mouth.

“X,” he rasps with a dry tongue. “Oh my god please say it’s you. I-I can’t hear anything— fuck, Jesus. Thank god you’re alive, oh god.”

You scratch his lower back again, looking at the restraints. How the fuck were you going to untie that knot?

Jisung’s tongue darts out to lick at his dry lips. His weight leans into you as much as he can. It must’ve been horrifying to be tied up like this, he couldn't hear or see or scream for help.

Gingerly, you reach up and cup both of his cheeks so as not to startle him. Even with how gentle you were, he still jumps in shock.

“Everything happened so fast,” he rambled. “They shot out the laptop so the communicator was fried. Next thing I knew I had a bag over my head and I was being tied up.”

Using your fingers, you push the blindfold up his face to rest around his forehead.

Jisung’s big, brown eyes blink and squint a bit before focusing on you. He searches all over your face, taking in every detail as if you’re a glass of water and he’s been crawling through the desert.

His eyebrows pinch together and he gulps.

“God, I’m always glad to see you, but now I’m really glad.”

You laugh under your breath, the stress from just the last thirty minutes alone lifting off your shoulders.

He’s okay.

Jisung is okay.

Using your hands, you wipe the tear tracks off his puffy cheeks. God, he must’ve been horrified.

He’s probably never going to go out into the field again. You look up at the restraints, analyzing the knot closely. You’re going to have to cut him down, there’s no way you’re untying that. He’s secured to a pipe that runs across the entirety of the ceiling.

“You know,” Jisung starts. His voice already has that teasing tilt to it. “If you wanted me tied up this badly, all you had to do was ask, baby.”

Your eyebrows twitches. Mr. Humor-Is-My-Coping-Mechanism decides to show his face now of all times, huh?

Slowly, you look down from his restrained wrists to his dark eyes. A smirk is already plastered on his face, his lips still wet from licking them.

“You must want me so bad, hm?”

With your own crooked smile, you tongue your cheek and make a ‘huh’ noise, it puffs through your chest. That’s how he wants to be, huh?

He can stay tied up for a little longer then. It’s not like anyone’s coming into this room nor do you have anything to do until after the auction.

Really, you have nothing but time to kill!

You take a step backwards away from him and cross your arms over your chest.

His eyes widen when you distance yourself from him. “Wh…” His cheeks puff a bit as his lips purse in confusion. Jisung tugs on the rope still around his wrists.

You cock your head to the side and stare at him with one lifted brow.

The bed behind you dips down under your weight as you sit down on the edge. It gives you a perfect vantage point to watch Jisung grow more and more confused as to why you’re not cutting him down yet.

Slowly, his ears start turning red, the flush crawls across his face and down his neck, disappearing into his black hoodie.

“X,” he says hoarsely. “Aren’t you going to cut me down?”

You shrug, knowing no matter what you say, he’s not going to hear you. If he wants to tease you, you can tease right back.

The gun on the bed beside you is picked up in your hand. You nonchalantly click the safety on and toss it to the side again.

He tugs even harder, the ropes chafing his wrists a bit. You watch as JIsung’s Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp. The blindfold is pushing his bangs up in wild directions.

The helpless look on his face shouldn’t be making your blood pump this way. Excitement shouldn’t be tingling at the base of your spine from the power trip you’re getting from this. This is only teasing between two best friends, nothing more.

It’s just teasing, right?

Right?

You cross one leg over the other, leaning back on your hands. The plush blanket underneath your fingertips feels cool and soft. It’s a complete contrast to the way your skin is heating up under Jisung’s desperate gaze.

“Aren’t you going to…” he trails off. Several times his eyes flick from yours down to your exposed leg. When you had crossed them, due to the slit up your dress, the entirety of your leg was exposed to the cool hotel room air.

“Going to what?” you ask him, exaggerating the movements of your mouth for him to understand.

Jisung gulps again while watching your lips. He squints his eyes closed and tries to take a steadying breath in through his nose, his chin tilts back a bit.

You allow your gaze to wander down his body a bit. He’s always in relaxed clothing, including now. An oversized black hoodie draped over his shoulders with gray sweatpants on his bottom half.

Gray sweatpants that you now notice seem a little… tight .

Oh.

It seems as though you’re not the only one whose thoughts seem to be a bit… derailed.

When you look back up at Jisung, he’s staring at you with slightly glassy eyes and a heaving chest. Nervously, his tongue comes out to lick his drying lips again.

A tight band of tension stretches between the two of you; you can practically feel it connecting your bodies together. The hair on the back of your neck stands up.

Is he thinking the same thing you are? Is he allowing his mind to wander the way that yours is?

Slowly, you uncross your legs and stand up from the edge of the bed.

Big brown eyes flick down to watch the movement absentmindedly, his lips part and a shaky exhale leaves them.

Your hips sway from side to side with each slow step you take towards Jisung.

The eye contact he makes with you is sharp; his thoughts being conveyed through them. He wants you, and he wants you bad. It’s like he’s practically begging for it with those brown puppy dog eyes.

And you’ll be damned because you want it just as bad.

There’s only so much of his teasing that you can take. Only so much desire the dam within your heart can take before it bursts. And right now, with how high your adrenaline has spiked, nothing is stopping you.

The last two years of nonstop flirting is taking its toll on your self control.

Licking your own lips, you look up at Jisung, a shaky breath coming out afterwards.

Your fingers come up and grab the blindfold that’s still around his forehead and tug it back down over his eyes.

“ Fuck, ” Jisung murmurs. Your face is so close to his you can physically feel the words splay out onto your own lips.

With the gentleness of a butterfly landing on a flower, you brush your lips against his. Jisung immediately brings his face closer to yours, smashing your mouths together even more.

A sensation you can’t quite describe washes over you. It has the same level of completeness that you had felt when you became a full-fledged agent; like you just did something that the universe has been waiting for you to do.

His pouty lips start moving against yours faster and faster with more urgency, like he can’t get enough of you, like he’s experiencing the same emotions that you are. Were you the piece he always needed too?

Both of your hands begin to explore. You cup his cheek with one while the other grabs at the front of his hoodie. He’s leaning into you so much that the ropes holding his wrists squeak as they tighten and rub.

With a teasing smirk against his mouth, you take a tiny step back. This way he wasn’t able to reach your lips but could still feel the heat from your body in front of him.

A tiny whine leaves his throat as soon as you pull away. You watch as his lips chase after you just to be stopped by the ropes.

“Y/N,” he whispers, pleading. You lightly tap his cheek twice.

Pulling the collar of his hoodie to the side, you let your mouth hover over his neck.

Since he doesn’t have sight or hearing, all of his other senses are on high alert. Jisung feels your warm exhales so close to his skin and squirms around, little noises leaving the back of his throat.

You tease him more and more by letting your deep breaths fan over his flushed skin but never actually letting your lips actually meet with his neck.

Jisung pulls and pulls on the restraints, each exhale driving him insane.

When your lips finally meet his neck, a long mewl exits his own wet mouth. His head tilts to the side to give you more access. Greedily, you let your mouth explore his soft skin.

His hips buck forward into yours, his hard length grinding into your hip to bring himself some relief. Jisung whines again at the sensation.

At the same time, you open your mouth and suck down where his shoulder meets his neck. His body tenses up and his head tilts back in pleasure.

“Jesus, fuck,” he curses, grinding into your hip once again. “Oh, god. Shit– please, fuck, Y/N.” His incoherent babbling only increases in pitch and frequency the more you run your tongue up and down his neck, never going lower than the collar of his hoodie would pull or higher than his jawline.

You let your free hand travel up to thread in his soft, chocolate brown locks of hair. You scratch at his scalp a few times, letting your nails drag along his head. A low moan emanates deep within Jisung’s chest, it almost sounds like a purr. His head leans back into your touch.

“Oh my god,” he murmurs. Every noise that comes out of his mouth is louder than you expect thanks to the earplugs. “Y/N, please– oh fuck , kiss me again, please, oh my god, please, Y/N.”

Pulling away from his neck, you capture his lips in the middle of his babbling. The rest of his words are swallowed by your own mouth. His tongue darts out from his mouth to lick at your lips and coax yours forward.

Your own moans slip between kisses, Jisung can feel the vibrations against his mouth and they drive him absolutely wild. His hands ball up into fists; he wants to touch you so bad.

“Y/N,” he says your name in between kisses. “Please, c-cut me down.” Your kisses travel down to his jawline. “I want to– Fu-huh-huck! ” You bite down on his neck harshly, sucking a bright purple hickey underneath it.

Jisung rolls his hips into yours. You can feel how absolutely rock hard his cock is through his sweats.

“N-Need to touch you. Hah! I’m going insane, Y/N.”

Begs sound so good coming from his lips.

You run your hands down his chest to tease at the hem of his hoodie before sliding them underneath the fabric and up his bare chest. The muscle that greets you underneath it is a pleasant surprise.

The hard lines of his abs and chest run along the pads of your fingertips. He flexes and tenses under your touch.

Jisung throws his head back with a groan, his weight shifts around on his feet. It feels so fucking good . Every single touch to his body is heaven sent.

At the top of his chest, you curl your fingers and rake your nails down his skin.

The wail that tears from his throat makes your heart rate pick up ten fold. It sends a lightning bolt of pleasure through your body.

“Oh my god, please do that again! ” Jisung begs, his mouth hanging open as he pants over and over again. It seems like he can’t catch his breath.

Who were you to deny him?

With a featherlight touch, you let your fingers trail up, up, up his body. The closer you got to the top, the faster Jisung’s breathing picks up.

Right before you curled your fingers again, you smash your lips together in another searing kiss. When you claw down his quickly reddening skin, his cry is swallowed up by your own mouth.

You don’t stop your fingers on their downward descent, you tease the waistband of his sweats, letting your fingers curl around the top of the band and touching the taut skin underneath.

“Ah, hah.” Jisung pants into your mouth. He leans forward and sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it back for it to snap against your teeth. “I want to touch you so bad, Y/N, please .”

“Be patient,” you say against his lips. He doesn’t hear it, but he feels it. A pathetic whine responds to your words.

You kiss his lips a few more times before dropping down to your knees in front of him.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out. “Oh god, oh my god.”

You grab his legs with both of your hands starting at the knees and run them up his thighs, taking your time on your ascent.

“Fuck, fuck , this is really happening.” Jisung gulps. He pulls harder and harder on the ropes.

When your hands reach the top of his thighs, you run one closer and palm his erection over the top of his sweats. A deep, guttural moan is Jisung’s only response. Even through his sweats you can feel how his cock twitches in your grasp.

His hips buck into your hand when you squeeze him. “F-Fuck, I– Oh god– This is really happening and I can’t even fucking see it .”

You smirk. Maybe you should show him a small bit of mercy. Just a small amount.

Leaning forward, you kiss his cock over his sweatpants. Jisung gasps and twitches again.

You stand up quickly, coming nose to nose with him. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks, they’re so warm from his flushed face.

“Y-Y/N,” he gasps. You peck his lips, letting them linger on his while your hands come up to his ears to take the plugs out. “Y/N,” he repeats on your lips.

“Hi, Jisung,” you breathe against his mouth before kissing him again, letting the earplugs drop to the ground.

You don’t linger for too long, you kiss down his face, down his neck, and then you fall to your knees once more.

“Jesus, Y/N.”

You don’t tease him too much this time, you grab the waistband of his pants and tug them down, his rock hard cock finally coming out. His tip is red and angry. God, how can a dick look so pretty?

Just as quickly as you got his cock out of his pants, you wrap your hand around him, pumping your hand up and down slowly.

“Ohhhh my goood,” Jisung mewls. His thighs tense up and flex each time you stroke up and down. “Fuck yeah, Y/N. God, your hands are so fucking soft.”

You tighten your grip and Jisung whines.

“Yeah? Does that feel good, baby?”

His cock twitches in your hand at the nickname at the same time a tiny whine escapes his throat.

“Does it?”

“Y-Yes,” he answers shyly.

“Louder, Jisung.”

“Yes, it feels good!”

“Good boy.” Without warning, you lean forward and take the entirety of him inside your mouth.

You can feel his knees buckle and if it wasn’t for the restraints keeping him suspended from the ceiling, he probably would’ve fallen to the ground.

“Oh, oh m-my, f-fuck, Y/N!”

You’re relentless. You bob your head back and forth on his dick, letting your tongue swirl around the tip when you come up just to go back down and swallow him completely. Jisung’s hands are balled into such tight fists that his knuckles are turning white.

So many different pitches of whines, moans, and groans fall so easily from his lips. Compliments come out in between each one.

“So good,” he cries. “I can’t fucking– holy shit.”

In some part of your mind, you always knew he would be vocal during sex– but never this vocal. He hasn’t shut up once. Not that you’re complaining, quite the opposite really. You fucking love every single noise that he makes. Each one sends a shock down between your legs.

Too often you’ve been with partners that conceal how you’re making them feel, but not anymore. Jisung is making sure you know exactly how well you’re doing.

“Such a perfect mouth, oh god. So fucking warm.”

You let your hand travel up his hoodie again, his abs are clenching and releasing over and over again with how hard he’s panting, you can feel each one under your hands.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he pants as your hand goes up. “Fucking hurt me, yeah, please, scratch me, Y/N.”

God, the way he’s talking to you is fucking sinful. It’s perfect .

You scratch down his chest just as harshly as you did twice previously.

Again, Jisung lets out a wail, his hips bucking and fucking his cock down your throat. You gag around him but keep him down your throat regardless.

“I-I-I’m gunna, holy shit, Y/N, I’m g’na– g’na—”

Now, you can’t have that yet, can you?

Quickly, you pull off his cock, letting yourself take a gulp of air.

Jisung cries out from his ruined orgasm. “No! Shit! Fuck! Why?”

You look around the room while he throws his mini temper tantrum. There’s a small kitchen off to the side of the suite.

As if you have nothing better to do, you meander over to it, looking around.

“Y/N?” Jisung asks, hearing you walk away.

“Hm?” you respond.

“W-Where did you go?”

“Still here, baby, why?”

He shifts around, pulling on the ropes. The red color on his ears is getting deeper and deeper. “Just um– Why did you leave?”

You giggle. “Looking for something.”

You open one of the drawers, close it, then open another until you find what you’re looking for. It glints and catches your eye in the third drawer you check. You pick up the knife that was inside the drawer.

You’re walking back in his direction with the knife in your hand.

“D-Did you find what you needed?”

“Yep.”

With frightening grace, you reach up and slice the ropes holding his wrists in the air.

He almost drops to the ground, but you grab a hold of him before he has a chance to fall into the carpet.

Jisung wastes no time, he grabs at your waist with both of his hands. Through the silk fabric of your dress, you feel the heat of his touch. It scorches into your skin and you wish he would brand his very handprints there.

His lips are already on yours again, feverishly kissing you as if you would disappear if he stopped even for a moment. He takes one second to rip the blindfold off his eyes and then he’s back on your mouth.

The hands on your waist don’t stay there long. They run all along your figure, up in your hair, over your neck, grabbing your ass, gripping your hips, he’s everywhere.

You back up a bit, pulling Jisung with you until the back of your legs are about to hit the bed. Quickly, you spin the two of you around, pushing his chest so that he falls back onto the bed.

When Jisung finally blinks the confusion from his eyes, his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you at the foot of the bed.

You’re looking at him like you’re about to devour his very soul. Your hair is frizzy and tousled, the straps of your dress falling off your shoulders, your lipstick smudged over your puffy, kiss swollen lips.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs. His fingers curl into the blanket.

You straddle his legs and crawl onto the bed, hiking the skirt of your dress up enough for Jisung to see the strong muscle of your thighs.

“There’s no way I’m awake right now,” he whispers, hands grabbing at your bare legs and running them up to push your dress further up your body. “I must have been shot. I’m in Heaven right now.”

With a sultry chuckle, you cup his cheek and let your thumb swipe over his lips. “I’m real, baby.”

“Oh my god.”

You reach down and take a hold of his cock, pumping him up and down a few more times. Jisung moans and fights for his eyes to stay open, he can’t get enough of the sight of your hand wrapped around him.

With your other hand, you reach down and pull your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt.

“Holy fuck, you’re so wet,” Jisung whines. His fingers run up your folds, collecting your wetness on his digits and bringing them up to his mouth. He moans around his own fingers at your taste, his eyes rolling back in his skull. “Please, I need to–”

You cut him off by squeezing his cock. “Next time. I need you now .”

“Yes, ma’am,” he squeaks out.

As if he would ever complain.

You line his cock up with your entrance, Jisung grabs your hips with both of his hands, his thumbs pressing against the bone so hard. His breathing is getting faster and faster with each passing second.

Slowly, you sink down on his cock.

Both of you moan out in unison. The stretch feels fucking marvelous inside of you. Jisung’s eyes roll back in his head once more.

His moans dissolve into silence as his mouth stretches open in an ‘O’. He throbs inside you right before you lift your hips just to drop them again.

“Oh god,” you moan. “Jisung, you feel so fucking good.”

“Move, please ,” he begs and you bounce up and down again and again. Each time you drop down, it shoots pleasure down through your thighs and into your toes.

You grab his face and smash his lips with yours once more. His tongue immediately finds yours.

Jisung’s hands wander from your hips all the way around your body to grip your ass while you ride him, his fingers dig into the flesh, kneading it with each bounce.

“Fuck, fuck,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Pussy so fucking tight.”

“Just for you.”

“O-Oh, fuck yeah . Just like that, baby.”

Jisung pulls away from your lips to kiss down your neck the way you did to him earlier. He takes his hands off your ass to pull the straps of your dress down your arms for your breasts to fall out of the top.

“Shit, baby,” he whines before taking a nipple in his mouth.

Moaning, you pull his hair tighter, keeping his face buried in your chest– not that he seems to mind. His eyebrows pinch together, moans vibrating against your chest as he licks and sucks at your nipple.

His other hand comes up to pinch and pull at the other. Each tweak and flick of his tongue makes your walls clamp down on his cock.

“Your cock feels so good, Jisung,” you moan, clenching on him again. “Stretching me so good, so fucking big.”

He moans, sucking a hickey on the underside of one of your tits.

The pitch of both of your moans begin to get higher and higher the closer you get to your peaks. Jisung’s heels dig into the carpet and he starts fucking up into you.

“Fuck!” you cry out, holding him tighter. His thrusts are so much wilder than your bounces were. Each one fucks right into your g-spot. “Ji– Jisung, oh god!”

“Yeah?” He pulls away from your chest and looks up at you with half lidded eyes. “Does that feel good? Am I making you feel good?”

“Yes, yes! Keep going, Ji!”

Every single thrust is driving you wild. Everything about him makes you feel crazy, everything down to the sweat beading on his forehead.

He reaches down and presses his thumb against your clit, making you cry out. He rubs circles in the same tempo as his thrusts.

Closer and closer you approach your own climax, his touch feels too good.

Jisung looks down, watching where his cock disappears inside you over and over again. The very sight of it makes his mouth go dry.

He groans and falls into your chest.

“Say it for me, Y/N, say it,” he pants into your neck. “Say you’re close. I-I’m going to fucking bust, say you’re close, I need you to cum on my cock. Need it s-so bad.”

“I am, I am,” you repeat like a mantra. Your own pleasure is making you feel inside, his cock is abusing your walls just right, his thumb on your clit adding an extra level of insanity.

You pull more at his hair.

Close, close, close. It’s all you can think of. Jisung is enveloping all of your senses. He’s everything in your mind and body and even your soul.

“Gunna cum!” you cry out. “Cumming, cu– cumming!”

With just three more thrusts, your walls clamp down on Jisung’s cock, triggering his own release.

“Jisung, fuck!”

He bites down on your neck, crying out and grabbing you tightly with his free hand. He clings onto you like he would die if he let go.

Hot, sticky cum drips over your walls, leaking out around his cock.

Both of you are panting heavily, unable to move and detangle yourselves from one another.

Slowly, you release your death grip on his hair, letting your nails drag along his scalp like you did earlier. He hums against your neck, his hands finding your hips again, thumbs massaging you over your dress.

The gentleness of his touch makes you clench around him, your cunt still going through the aftershock of your orgasm.

“Jeeesus…” Jisung moans out, a bit overstimulated. You giggle and pull back to look down at your best friend. He looks up at you with a delighted smile across his face.

You giggle and continue to comb through his hair.

His eyes fall closed happily and he leans into your touch.

This should feel awkward. You should be having some sort of ‘post-nut clarity’ where you freak out for sleeping with your best friend, but you’re not.

Right here, right now, you feel safe and content. And your relationship with Jisung feels the same– if not better.

“I knew it,” he hums.

You cock your head to the side. “Knew what?”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

Laughing, you lean forward and press a long kiss to his lips. “Yeah.” You kiss him again. “Maybe I am.”

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

“So J was captured and tied up in another room in the convention center?” Chan asks.

You and Jisung had safely returned to Korea with The Refuge about two hours ago. And, per protocol, you both immediately went to Chan’s office for a debrief.

“Affirmative,” you answer.

“And you got him back, obviously. No problems after that?”

“No, sir.”

Jisung shifts on his chair next to you.

“Uneventful beyond that one hiccup?”

You tongue your cheek. “Yes, sir.”

Chan eyes the two of you curiously from the other side of his desk. But, the mission was complete and everything was done. There was nothing he needed to be wary of. For now.

“Understood. I’ll read about the mission more in your reports. You’re both dismissed.”

The two of you are leaving Chan’s office with thinly veiled smirks on your faces. Just as you’re about to close the door behind you, he calls out.

“Might want to cover the hickeys next time!”

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