#pretend i’m that far in one piece…
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murkyrefuse · 1 month ago
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my Buggy cosplay is not finished but I wanted to do it!!!!!
cursed images under the cut because i have no shame!
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metranart · 2 months ago
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Imagine Gojo setting a condition to his Clan for him to give them an heir. "It's HER or no one." The elders aren't happy that he chose a non-sorcerer, but they reluctantly agree... that is, if Gojo manages to convince you.
“Come here-...I’m far from done, kitten.”
God, Gojo still makes you nervous, with his mouth buried between your legs for longer than you can even imagine. Why are you still so nervous? Is it the proximity? Is it the way he leans in to make eye contact while he licks you? Is it those blue piercing eyes? Or that immensely amused smirk that twists his lips just enough so he can keep eating you out?
"Mmmmm... stop moving so much, (Y/N). We are making a mess of my desk..." he purrs, all too pleased to watch your eyes roll to the back of your skull. "That’s my good girl..." the man between your legs, praises, "my future bride to be...-"
"T-...that's still u-...under discussion, S-Satoru." Your quivering protests are sweet chords of music for him, "I already t-.... told you that I d-don't want to be part of the jujutsu world.... nor b-belong to a-.... any clan."
"Not any clan, pretty. MY clan." 
You hear him slurp greedily at your folds and feel a warm trick of saliva run down your ass, and when your mouth is about to throw another protest-... Satoru Gojo makes a vacuum on your quivering clit with that annoying mouth of his. Your thighs tense and the muscles of your stomach follow, a quake that rakes your entire form, making you a pathetic mock of a human.
Both your hands fly to cover your mouth and Satoru chuckles deep, amused rumble that cracks the rest of your self-control. Your cheeks grow in the most adorable shade of pink, and your breathing hastens.
"So CUTE~"
Satoru whimpers, dumb founded, his broad chest puffing with so much fervor, so much blinding endearment that he feels like about to explode. He can see the doubt in your beautifully contorted features, and he dips his tongue inside you, fucking you with that fat tongue to try to make you agree to his terms, to be HIS.
Dammit! You feel… amaaaaaazing. Why? It’s like a flip inside you only he can switch at will—... even so, he’s dangerous, you remember. He’s a special grade sorcerer, you remember. He’s a mystery, he’s unpredictable—he’s invincible, unreadable, impenetrable and lethal with a playful smile, and you really know absolutely nothing about him. 
Yet, he insists that you belong together. He insists on putting his child inside you, he insists that he will take care of you and his life will be yours. He insists that you belong in his world and if you're not there, he won't be there either. He insists on fucking you stupid every chance he gets, bending you over surfaces, of course! Always putting his coat or his shirt or any piece of his clothing, just so your skin never comes into contact with any unworthy surface. He insists, he insists and insists and insists...
“Fuck—” he growls, grabbing your hips, “—why are you... h-how do you manage to always have me wrapped around your little finger—?” 
“I want you, Satoru-u... but I can't-” 
He stops you with a soft but firm, squeeze to your waist. 
“Not like this,” he pants, tipping his head to slowly lick a strip down your sweet cunt, a farewell caress, the whisper of a kiss to his last effort before lunch time is over and he can try again, later. “Let me pretend just for a little longer that you said yes—"
Your gaze drops to his trembling thighs and the warmth that settles in the pit of your tummy is intensified by the clear drop of precum shining at the tip of his gloriously thick and long cock, now achingly swollen and a mouthwatering shade darker in color than the rest of him.  
“I'm yours, Satoru-” you offer in a quiet whisper and can feel him shake his head. “You aren't.... but I’ll make you change your mind. You, just watch me, kitten."
➡️ 👀 NSFW Sneak Peek artwork HERE ;)
➡️ FULL NSFW ART of this story
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avis-writeshq · 1 year ago
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summary: "drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain."/"kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain." The first time you meet Spencer Reid, you swore that you could feel the sparks fly. You figured that it would be unreasonable to ever consider him to be anything more than a friend, and in a moment of selflessness you tell yourself that you are perfectly fine in that position. As time goes on, the line between romantic and platonic love begins to blur indefinitely. But it would be ridiculous to think that the resident genius would feel anything for you... right?
pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, mutual pining, happy ending warnings: rated 16+ for canonical criminal minds trauma, drugs/relapsing, torture, therapy, panic attacks/night terrors, guns, death, ‼️always read each fic's individual warnings for triggers‼️ taglist [CLOSED]: here playlist: here status: complete
main masterlist || ao3
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bonus! 00 — l.d.s.k
in other words, the first time spencer calls you 'angel'. // wc: 2.2k
part of my 2023-2024 milestone event! you can find it here!
01 — better than revenge
“she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.” 
you thought you were past the immature arguments now that you're an adult. you thought you left those in high school, or even college. maybe you thought you did. apparently, spencer thought otherwise. // wc: 10.4k
02 — haunted
“something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.”
it wasn't supposed to be like this. it was supposed to be a normal open-shut case. but people are unpredictable and you're left picking up the pieces as you work yourself to the grave. // wc: 10.1k
03 — labyrinth
“uh oh, i’m falling in love”/“thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?”
everything hurts. it's understandable, after everything he's went through. spencer wishes that he could erase every one of his scars. he wishes he could stop chasing the highs and embrace the lows. but at least he has you. // wc: 3.8k
04 — you are in love
“you can hear it in the silence.”/”you can hear it on the way home.”/”you can see it with the lights out.”
spencer didn't think that something like this could happen. no, rather, he wanted to deny the fact that something like this could happen. but all he can think about is you. in other words; the four times spencer wants to kiss you, and the one time he wishes he did. // wc: 3.4k
05 — enchanted
“please don’t be in love with someone else”/“please don’t have somebody waiting on you.”
the line drawn in the sand that was once supposed to be an invisible boundary to never cross is washed away by the sand. these are the kind of lines where you could never go back to should you cross them; and yet here you are, so scared to see the ending as the two of you pretend that this is nothing. // wc: 4.9k
06 — untouchable
“come on, come on, say that we’ll be together”/“i’m caught up in you.”
so close and yet so far. maybe in some twisted way, you are each other's romeo and juliet, doomed from the beginning. or maybe you are each other's hamlet and ophelia, the tragedy of a love that never really was. // wc: 4.3k
07 — wildest dreams
“he’s so tall, and handsome as hell”/”his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.”
never in your wildest dreams did you think that you would be privileged enough to experience something so good. spencer reminds you that these things are reality. // wc: 3.3k
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reblogs are always appreciated!
taglist [CLOSED]: here
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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months ago
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The 141 boys and the TikTok trend “everybody knows that I’m a good girl officer”
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Firstly, I want to say that in this house, we say "fuck the police (derogatory)" every single day. However, I will indulge in this instance because it's our 141 boys and I think the trend with them would be absolutely smoldering. But I will change it up slightly, and pull from my Bodyguard!141 AU Post as well as lean into a security detail aspect for this one.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, dirty thoughts, flirting, secret relationship
Word Count: 1.5k
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
Price adjusts the ear piece in his right ear.
The blasted thing doesn’t fit right. It keeps slipping. It’s irritating but it’s manageable. Not like Price is running anywhere. At least, he doesn’t plan on moving too quickly. His job is to stand and observe. To make look after a certain MP’s daughter, and to take her back to the hotel when she tells you she’s ready to leave.
You are no stranger. Far from it.
And it goes far beyond the grounds of appropriate behavior.
Price has completely stuck his foot in it, bedding you when he isn’t supposed to. Stealing kisses in dark corners, and fucking you behind closed doors. He was hired by your father to look after you, and instead, John has taken it much further than that.
But he doesn’t fucking regret it.
Not at all.
John adjusts his ear piece and scans the room from left to right. You’re not in sight but that doesn’t bother him. This ballroom is packed full of rich schmucks who couldn’t give a shit about him.
He scans the room again, and this time he finds you.
You’re walking toward him, hips moving in a sultry sway that steals John’s resolve. You’re gorgeous. Perfect. And he can’t stop staring.
The corner of your mouth quirks with amusement, and John straightens his shoulders, making himself appear bigger. He needs to look professional. He needs to look like he’s not thinking about all the ways he wants to fuck you.
But it’s hard to focus, and when you approach, you glance over your shoulder at him, words leaving your mouth that John doesn’t entirely catch at first. Your foot pops in the air, and the friend you’re walking with giggles, her hand pressed to her painted lips.
Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.
A good girl.
Yes. You are.
You’re John’s good girl.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
High-stakes missions have always been part of Kyle’s life. It is what he knows. What he thrives on. But between the missions, Kyle keeps working, and not with SAS.
Kyle mostly signs up for security detail at different places around London. Sometimes he might work as a bouncer for a club, or be monitoring people entering a music venue. Sometimes the gigs are swanky, and sometimes they’re not. Kyle doesn’t really mind as long as he’s paid.
That’s the whole point.
He’s saving. Wants to buy a house. Maybe find someone to settle down with. Life is going by fast. He needs some stability amongst all the violence.
And tonight? Tonight, he’s nothing more than a glorified security guard.
He looks the part in all-black tactical gear, and he isn’t the only one. There is an entire group of them all lined up in front of large windows, creating a bit of barrier. The event coordinator expected protests. All there is are a handful of people across the street with signs. They’re harmless.
Kyle doesn’t pay them any mind.
He does watch the regular people walking by on his side of the road. Some people are here for the event and others are just passing through.
Standing on the corner nearby is a small group of young women. They’re all dressed up like they’re heading to the clubs. Kyle pretends he’s not looking, but that would be a lie. There is one he keeps glancing at.
You’re fucking stunning. A beauty.
But Kyle has to remain calm. Aloof. He’s not here for you or anyone except the job at hand.
“Go over there.”
“I can’t!”
“Girl. He is so cute. Do it.”
Kyle casually turns his head, only to find you striding toward him. His throat drops into his stomach, and you waltz past him, pausing just to his right, flipping your hair, and batting your eyelashes at him and then your friends.
“Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”
Your friends scream, and then you hurriedly run back to them as if you’ve done something you shouldn’t.
A good girl? Sure you are, love.
Kyle smirks and looks away, doing his best to hide a growing smile.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon sits in the driver seat of a large, black SUV. His fingers are itching for a cigarette. He needs the smoke—to feel the burn. To rid himself of some of this agitation.
It’s not annoyance. It’s not frustration. And it sure as shit isn’t anger.
No. Simon has a fucking rager in his pants, and his thoughts are filled with images of you. You—who he’s supposed to be protecting. Escorting you to and from events, pushing back the crowd, and keeping a firm lock on where you are at all times.
The black dress you’re wearing tonight is made of flimsy material. It clings to every curve and swell. Simon is hungry—a feral animal that couldn’t stop stalking you throughout the event.
Now, he’s about to take you back to your hotel. And he knows you’ll invite him in. He knows that the little black dress you wear will be nothing but a pile on the floor in due time.
But this need in his bones isn’t just Simon’s fault. You were a fucking tease all evening. You were bad. Openly flirting with other men in front of him, drinking more than you should have, and genuinely being a little terror to his sanity. All this behavior will only get you punishment. A punishment he’s happy to deal out once he has you behind a closed door.
A car door clicks, and Simon glances up, expecting to see you slide into the backseat. You’re not there. You’re next to him. In the front passenger seat.
“What the fuck are you doing?” asks Simon, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel.
You shrug and settle in. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply, leaning on the middle armrest.
Simon can smell your perfume. “Buckle up,” he growls, and you do so casually, as if you don’t hear his irritation.
He pulls out into traffic, and the moment the two of you are clear of the building, Simon feels your hand on his thigh moving dangerously close to his dick.
“This bad behavior needs to stop.”
Your body shifts and you sing-song the next words out of your mouth. “Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”
The words are bit slurred. You’re completely pissed, and Simon cannot help but laugh. No punishment then. Not tonight at least.
But tomorrow?
Absolutely.
John "Soap" MacTavish
This isn’t Johnny’s usual job, but it’s easy work.
Usually, hired security and local police take care of concerts and sporting events, but the military has been called in for this one, and Johnny is fine with that. Again, it’s easy work, and they’re paying him more for it.
He stands in one spot, scans the crowd, and acts casual while looking downright intimidating. The intimidation isn’t hard. They have him completely decked out in all-black tactical and balaclava included. All you can see of Johnny are his eyes.
It’s fun, actually. When he put it all on, he pretended to be Simon, only to receive a swat upside the head for it from the man himself.
Johnny has his hands casually resting on his bulletproof vest. No one is really looking at him, and those that do quickly look away. But there is one he can’t stop looking at.
You’re so damn cute, and you can’t stop glancing at him either. You’re with friends, and you keep smiling in his direction. If this were any other night, Johnny would approach you, flirt a bit, maybe even ask for your number. Might even take you home with him if you were open to it.
But Johnny is on the job, and he can’t afford to do that.
As you move closer to him through the crowd, one of your friends keeps saying something to you, moving their hands as if urging you to do something. Johnny isn’t sure what, but he’s curious. You don’t look like danger, and there is nothing about your demeanor that says that you’re looking to cause trouble.
Maybe it’s the balaclava. That seems to be a thing now.
As you approach, there is a pop of your foot, a quick flip of your hair, and a stunning smile. Your friend holds up her phone and you turn away from Johnny briefly to say “Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”
I bet you fucking are, love.
Your friends giggle with pleasure, and you quickly move away from him but not before you glance over your shoulder one last time, mouthing a silent “thank you.”
taglist:
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett
@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82
@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim
@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000
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@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos
@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez
@arrozyfrijoles23 @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im
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softshuji · 1 month ago
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𝟐𝟐:𝟓𝟎𝐏𝐌 - 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔
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Title: Say Yes
Summary: The first time Rindou asks you on a date, you reject him, thinking he's going to break your heart. Lucky for you, he's willing to prove why you should say yes to him.
cw: fem!reader, some mentions of insecurities, Rin calls you princess, Ran makes an appearance. But that's it! Reblogs appreciated!
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You think it’s a joke the first time Haitani Rindou asks you on a date. He’s a Haitani after all, and you’re under no illusions about what that means for you and all the ways he could hurt you if you let him. Creative ways, that you’re convinced you could never recover from in the near future, the pieces of yourself you would spend years putting back together.
So you don’t. You walk away, reject him politely with a smile and an incline of your head, and you can almost imagine that he has a girl lined up the next day to ask as a quick replacement of you because He’s a Haitani after all, and he has a reputation that means more than either of your hurt feelings.
Rindou pretends he isn’t crestfallen, the drop of his small and placid smile that does little to hide the avid redness of his cheeks is all too apparent when you purse your lips. His eyebrows shoot up and he coughs, or rather pretends to, into his hand and steps back, the heat on his neck crawling along the slope of his back.
‘You’re….. You’re saying no?’ He asks, as if he doesn’t quite get it, because he hasn’t prepared for this eventuality, for going home to Ran to break the news, as if he’s a schoolboy with a crush, dragging his feet with dejection.
‘I am, I’m sorry Rin.’ A shake of your head, a feeling of deep nausea and a regret that holds the weight of years of friendship, now potentially wasted. 
‘Oh.’ He kicks at the gravel, the blue silk of his hair falling in waves over the smooth arc of his forehead, and you resist the urge at a time like this, to sweep it back. ‘Can I ask why?’
No, you want to say, the word caught on the wind whipping through your hair. It’ll only make it harder. Harder to look forward, harder to resist, harder to keep at your word. 
‘You’re Rindou Haitani.’ As if it’s an explanation in itself, as if it assuages the guilt and the longing and gets the point across, that he could never not hurt you in any way you could recover from. ‘I don’t think you’d be happy with me.’
You think it’s easier to lie, to pretend that the burden that comes from knowing you is too much for any one person to bear, especially when that person is your best friend, instead of the fact that the uncertainty of his life is too much for you in turn. That there could be a day far or perhaps not so far, into the future where the uncertainty becomes the certainty of his death, where he does not come back at all.
‘You don’t know that,’ he says, fierce determination blazing in his eyes, the slight tremor of his voice. He thinks he could be happy with you, or content at the very least. Maybe you could watch as he climbed to the top with Ran, the Doll at his side, his partner in all things. He’s convinced he has it all planned out perfectly, the house, the marriage, the kids you’ll have, even what colour you’ll paint the walls, because despite himself, Haitani Rindou is meticulous in all things concerning you.
You tilt your head to the side, a knowing smile playing on your lips that you hope hides how much it pains you to break him like this, to break yourself along with him, cracks in the eggshell of your friendship you hope can be repaired in time. ‘I do Rin. You’re a Haitani, you’re used to the life.’
He knows it’s an explanation and he doesn’t begrudge you for it, for the way you step back and keep your distance, your bottom lip pulled back as you bite it nervously, a hand playing with the ends of your hair as he knows you’re prone to doing. He wants to be angry, wants to rage at you, throw all the excuses he thinks will suffice for coming to terms with the rejection, vitriol and jealousy and bitterness all curling together on his tongue. He swallows, the bump of his smooth throat sliding under the blue scarf that kisses at the dip of his chin and pushes it down. Down. Down. Tucks it safely in the pit of his stomach where it can ruminate till he’s let off the steam that prickling at the skin on his neck.
‘I see.’ He pulls back the flowers, scrunching the plastic wrapping in his white knuckles behind his back, the burn of shame and regret licking at his cheeks, hot enough to instantly melt the snow that sits on the cut of his cheekbones. ‘Can we still be friends?’ 
It aches somewhere, when you swallow against the tide of anxiety in your chest, a vice that clamps down on your tongue, hot and heavy and weighted with longing. You wonder how easy it would be to let yourself be swept away by him, the beautiful fullness of his laugh, the smile that’s reserved for you, quick and easy and big, all engulfing even, to let yourself run along with him as he climbed to the top, hand in unlovable hand.
You soften, reach for him with one gloved hand, finding his fiddling with a button on his coat and brush your  thumb across his knuckles, swinging it this way and that, like you have not broken his heart, like you are nothing more than a single passing memory. ‘Of course we can. We’re best friends Rin, nothing will ever change that. If you still want me that is.’
‘I do.’ 
‘Even now?’ 
He takes your hand, as if it’s a response and knowing that despite it all, his big words, he’ll wallow in self pity, the heat of your rejection biting at his chest, he’ll come to terms with it in his own way. It is all his fault, and the wind that cuts across his cold lips seems to chant with shame at him for it, for the fickleness of his feelings, for straying far from what he knows.
But it happens. You swing back into life and the easiness of your friendship that has always permeated the comfort between you remains, albeit hardened now, by what Rindou thinks are his one-sided feelings. He remains as steadfast in his efforts as usual, propelled more so now by the fact that he feels he must win you over, to make up for the duplicity of his feelings.
You think it’s cute that he is less than subtle with his affections now that they are out in the open. The chocolates that sit at the table when you return home, a bar of chocolate orange, a note on a yellow post-it, a heart and a terribly drawn sun that tells you enough, the trinkets and gifts that are somehow discreetly placed around your apartment, necklaces here and there, earrings, new books you hadn’t spoken about to anyone that wasn’t him and it burns you with self-loathing that despite yourself, you cannot let him go without peeling yourself open at the same time.
The regret is acid pooling in your stomach.
The same regret and shame that tickles your throat when you reach for the phone at night, and your thumb finds his name with a moon and a heart, the grainy picture of him sleeping with his mouth parted, blond silken hair clinging to his forehead, to his shirt. He rolls over in bed, hears the first sniffle, cut through by a crack in the signal, and bounds from the door, keys in one hand, his jacket only half-slung, whipping in the wind as he races to your apartment.
'Princess?’ It’s uncertain, halted, hesitant even, as he slides open the bathroom door, the ends of his hair wet with rain, glasses foggy and hands clammy with the chill of the wind. 
‘Rin?’ You look up, eyes red-rimmed, the wad of wet tissue in your hands falling apart.
And Rindou knows, of course he does, what your kind of bravery looks like. You've been sitting on the floor crying, the tears fast and free flowing and salty on your cracked cheeks and he doesn't judge, he knows this is you being brave, he knows he has no right to judge what your kind of brave looks like, the way in which you piece yourself back together.
So he holds you, one hand on the small of your back, the other tucking the hair behind your ear as you hiccup and the drool slips from your dry lips. He holds you, and holds you and holds you and rocks you with his eyes fluttering shut, and perhaps your hair will get caught on the thin screws of his glasses, but you don't care right now. All that matters is that he makes you feel less pathetic, less like you're falling apart on the cold bathroom tiles of your shabby house.
‘It’s okay,’ he says and you almost believe it, almost believe he can put you back together with his lithe skilled fingers, trace the cuts along your heart with tenderness and paint them gold again. 
You love that he waits it out, waits for it to pass, the cloudy storm that ends with you on his chest, softly snoring, your tears dried on cheeks that feel taut and tightened with the line of silvery drool slipping between your parted lips, mascara tracks, that have found a home on the soft grey of his shirt. 
‘Let’s get you into bed yeah?’ He whispers to the tiles, to you now slumped against him, the creases of your pajamas pressed into his side and carries you to bed, slipping in beside you, curling your hair around his fingers, your ribs under his hands, heartbeat pulsing against his skin. He hardly blames you for it, the rejection that’s weeks in the past. Part of him almost thanks you, for protecting yourself from him, from all the danger and blood and death that comes with him. Like you said, he is used to the life. 
You love that when you wake, he is that much softer with you, a hand on your back as you pad to the bathroom, to the kitchen, the coffee hot, the croissants and pastries fresh, a wordless kiss to your temple, fresh clothes and towels, the bathroom clean of the wads of tissue that bare witness to your moments. He never mentions it, but kisses you again, just shy of your mouth, the dip of your chin soft under his lips when he sees you off for work again.
‘Be safe okay? For me?’ 
Because he knows you’re capable, knows you’re strong, knows you are his weakness in a way nothing else is, knows that if something happened to you, you’d take a bigger part of him than he could ever take of you. Or so he thinks.
‘I will. You should be safe too.’ 
Because you know he’s capable, know he’s strong, know he is your weakness in a way nothing else is, know that if something happened to him, he’d take a bigger part of you than you could ever take of him. Or so you think.
You love that he comes back, time and time again. After every fight, every argument, every word of vitriol spewed back and forth, hateful words thrown with negligence and jealousy, embittered feelings you know deep down come from love, he comes back to you.
‘Princess?’ He says, and waits on the other side of the door in the rain, the film of his glasses now foggy with condensation, ends of his hair clinging to the exposed goosebumps breaking out on his neck, the grey sweatpants now a darker shade of charcoal from where he has slugged through the storm to get to you, his first priority always.
‘What do you want?’ It comes out harsher than intended, the bite of your still-fresh and ripened anger cutting at your tone. It hurts, it always does when it comes from him, the arguments that are wrapped in love, care, the attention he could give to anyone but chooses to give to you, and the regret that boils in your stomach when you realize that fact.
‘I want us to talk.’ Proactive as ever, because the option to find solace anywhere else, with another girl even, has never occurred to him. Because he loves you, and even if the sentiment isn’t shared, he thinks he can love you enough for the both of you. 
‘I don’t want to talk to you right now.’ But you push open the door, hand him a towel, and touch his cold and pallid cheek, because the promise of seeing him, in all your pain and bitterness, hurts less than not.
‘Not an option,’ he says and holds you, cold lips that brush just shy of the hot pulsing pressure point of your neck, warmed by the constancy of you. He smells of petrol, metal, the cold chill of winter, and against what you assume is your better judgement, you find warmth in the crook of his shoulder, the warm swell of his chest and arms that instinctively come around you, pressing your hips to his.
It would be easy, to give into the thrill for a night, to let yourself forget, reach out to him and grab at the promise, however temporary, for the risk of tasting him in all the ways you’ve imagined you can. You know he tastes of strawberries, tastes of the night and the moon, sweet and dangerous and warm, familiar and mysterious at once. 
You tell yourself, you tell Ran, he is just like this, that Rindou for all his brutality, for all the rough edges sharp enough to cut, for all the barricades smoothed down by time, he is just kind, he is just loving, he is just like that.
‘I thought you’d have known him better than that by now.’ And Ran sighs in that way older siblings do, half exhausted, half fond, and all pride in his Brother. ‘Rin doesn’t do things for anyone else.’ 
It changes at some point. 
Some point when you wake before him, nestled into his side, the warm breath from his parted lips lifting the hair now pressed against the pillow, an eyelash dancing on the perfect curve of his cheek. He looks best like this. Unguarded, the frown that usually graces the slope of his forehead now smooth, the bridge of his nose rubbing at the cotton of your shared pillow, and the soft blue of his hair resting on the sharp line of his jaw. 
You press a tiny kiss to his collarbone, trapping him between your legs, his hands resting on your hips that press flush against his. 
‘Watching people sleep is creepy y’know.’ His voice is rough and broken by the sluggishness of sleep and you can hear the smirk in it, the lazy languid curve of his lips that never fails to make the heat rise to your neck. 
‘You do it all the time.’ A whisper that kisses at his clavicle, eliciting a shiver that rolls along his spine, the perfect bones and muscles flexing under your touch.
‘S’different. You’re pretty.’ 
‘So are you. Really pretty Rin.’
‘Think so?’
‘Don’t fish for compliments with me, that’s shameful.’ You jab lightly at his side, the smile threatening to break out across your lips now peaking through with full force. The sun that cuts across his cheek rests on the swell of his bare shoulder, the black ink that whirls along the flexing tendon of his arm soaking up the light. This is him, your Rindou. Soaking up the light as if it belongs to him, because it does, because everything does, because you would hand him the world if he so much as looked at it.
He laughs, a throaty chuckle that reverberates against your chest, dangerously, achingly close, a flimsy t-shirt away. ‘You’re too smart, my smartest girl.’ And buries his lips against the warm juncture of your collarbones. 
‘And Rin?’ You ignore the way your voice wavers, the way it threatens to pull you back into what you know, the safety of your enclosed familiarity, the trapped bird looking out to freedom.
‘Mhm?’ 
A beat, prolonged, heady and weighted with love, years and memories. ‘I think I’m ready.’ 
‘For?’ 
‘To say yes.’ The pressure aches in your chest, the courage is a vibrating pulse in your blood. This is it, this is the deep breath and the plunge.
It’s strangely exhilarating to let go of it, the build-up of weeks of longing, of clutching onto his stomach as you bury your face against the broad swell of his back, muttering his name in your sleep, his lips only a breath away, a singular moment of decision away.
His eyes snap open, his hands pulling back instinctively from your hips to cup at your jaw, eyes narrowed, glowing with anticipatory longing, dull with the shimmer of sleep.  ‘You mean it? That’s not a joke? If it’s a joke-’
You shake your head adamantly, his palms rough against the curl of your cheek. ‘Not a joke. I’m sorry, my indecision hurt you. I think I was afraid.’ This last part is broken, snapped into a whisper that curls along your tongue.
It had been true, it had always been true. Because he’s Haitani Rindou, and you know he could break you, snap you in half, shred the pieces of you and spit you out, that you would have to trust him not to.
‘No, no Princess, don't ever apologise for that. You really mean this though?’ Damn him for the shake of his voice, for the wobble of it as he closes the distance between you. 
‘I do.’
‘You want this? You want …me?’ He knows it’s meticulous, extreme, that he must only bridge the gap to find his answer. But he has spent so long, nights reaching through the darkness for your warmth, a hand moving across the cold bed, looking for the space where he thinks you ought to be, to not do it right this time. 
‘Yes.’ 
He deliberates, searches your eyes, for the genuineness he loves in you, for the openness, for the love he has craved and never asked for, for what you have given to someone like him so freely. 
‘Can I kiss you?’ He asks, and his thumb brushes against your lips, against the softened pout, the dip in your chin that slices the sunlight in half as it spills over his shoulder.
Your heart smashes against your ribs, knocks the air from you so completely that your pulse rings in your head. You think this is the point you take the leap, jump into the unknown, knowing you’ll be caught either way by him, knowing he will catch you every time you fall. It's conscious, a decision weeks or months in the making, a step off the edge, the wind rushing at you as you fall.
So you do it.
You say yes.
And he kisses you. And kisses you. And kisses you.
a/n happy birthday to the boy himself, sorry this is a little late I did try to be earlier i've been slumped w work and stuff but I wanted to get this one out there. a kiss for the wonderful boy
taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @prettyiolanthe @sugusshi @snakegentleman @haitaniapologist @lonnie19 @nafarsiti @bejeweled-night-33 @ranscutedoll @qiiuusoup-xo @hoetani @sinfulseashell @burnishedcrown @nikokopuffs @mitsuwuyaa @haruwuchiyoo @mochimiyaas @bertholdts--butt @theaonlax @blackfire2013 @wotakuhime @severellamahottub @stargirlstabber @intheafterall
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casually-eat-my-soul · 9 days ago
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I don’t know why I’m equating stiles to penguins and crows but stiles gives really pretty and super shiny rocks to his favourite people.
Maybe it stemmed from collecting rocks with his mother — “See, Stiles there are stars in the sea”— because they both loved looking at stars together so now they can carry stars around with them. (Stiles buried his best rock with his mother)
Stiles only clued into his feeling about Derek after the third time he had given him a rock.
The first time had been the day after Derek had killed Peter. Stiles knew what it was like to bury a family member. It took him nearly the whole day to find the perfect rock, or else he would have given it over sooner. Stiles awkwardly dropped it in his open palm stammering out broken sentences — “I like rocks- me and my mom - when she - it’s a good rock” — Derek looked very confused and frustrated. (He was thinking about the collection of rocks he had seen on stiles bookshelf when he was a fugitive.)
Stiles tried to defend his rock choice while also trying to explain why he gave it to Derek. It made for a very uncomfortable 4 minutes. Stiles gave up and just told Derek he could keep the rock or throw it away or fucking bury it with Peter. That he wouldn’t care what Derek did with the rock (lie). And with that he stormed away.
Unbeknownst to him, Derek heard the lie and kept the rock. He wasn’t going to at first, and had tried to just drop the rock but his hand wouldn’t uncurl from around the stone. Derek had generally understood that stiles had been trying to comfort him, and this rock was his confusing way of doing that.
He only truly understood after seeing the headstones that read Claudia Stilinski when going to deliver flowers to his families grave.
It was the first piece of kindness he had received since Laura died. So he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it.
—————
The second time stiles had brought Derek a rock was a week after holding Derek up in the swimming pool. Stiles had tried going down to the lake the day after swimming pool but couldn’t bring himself close to the edge. He had cried for hours after, scared that he’d never be able to get back in the water again. He wouldn’t be able to look for rocks and pretend his mother was still with him. Pretend that she was the one sending him the stars in the “sea”.
So after a week of going back to the lake and trying, he had succeeded in getting about knees deep. While celebrating Stiles stepped on a rock. Well two rocks. He had finished them out of the lake after he was done cursing. Loving how cool the rocks looked he went to make his way home. he had planned on giving the second less shiner rock to Scott so they could match. But he saw Derek on his way home and felt compelled to give it to him instead.
Still wet from the lake stiles walked up to Derek and asked him to hold out his palm. There was far less hesitance, glaring, and arguing than the first time stiles had demanded that.
Without even realizing it, Stiles had given Derek the rock he was going to keep. He was going to ask for it back and switch out the rocks but the look on Derek’s face stopped him. He looked more open and relaxed than stiles had even seen him, more vulnerable. There was a look of wonder in Derek eyes, as he fiddled with the stone.
Stiles no longer cared that about having the less shiny stone. In fact he was completely okay with not having it. When Derek realized stiles was staring with his mouth totally not open, he went right back to a closed expression. Words immediately begin spilling out of stiles mouth, without his permission.
—“ I couldn’t get in the water, after… - the lake, it’s … It’s a good rock, super shiny and it’s got a smooth texture. It’s kinda red like your eyes.” —
He even flipped his own hand and showed Derek his rock. “We’re matching, kinda. Well we were the only two in the water that night” He trailed off again before reiterating that Derek could just throw out the rock but Derek thanks him in the middle.
Derek walks him out of the preserve towards his car and reminded Stiles to be careful as there was still a kanima and argents on the lose.
——
The third time Stiles give Derek a rock is the night of his kidnapping. And technically Erica and Boyd’s. It was also the night he fully joined the hale pack, by protecting Boyd and Erica from hunters. The night he thought he was going to die.
Instead of leaving Erica and Boyd tied up, the hunter dragged them to the woods. They were planning on having a proper hunt. It was only by sheer luck that the three of them got away. Well that and the fact that the hunter were stupid enough to underestimate very desperate and pissed off Stiles. The fact that he had grown up in beacon hills and the hunter hadn’t was an added bonus.
During the fight stiles had tripped and and caught a stone in his hand. He was still holding it when he slammed his jeep through a wall. He only gave it to Derek after everyone else passed out for the night.
Stiles was sitting on a very uncomfortable chair in the train deport. However, that wasn’t enough to stop him from getting lost in his head. Vaguely watching as the rest of the pack slept in a pile. Stiles only came back to himself after Derek sat down beside him. The warmth of the werewolf’s arm around his shoulder allowed him to release the tension his body.
Stiles curled into Derek as sobs shook his body, not caring at pretending to be okay at the current moment. Derek only held him tighter, nearly pulling stiles into his lap.
When stiles had calmed down he grabbed one of Derek’s hand and gave him the rock. He heard a hum of confusion, one that prompted a sudden laugher.
“I thought I was going to die tonight.”
At his confession, Derek went still. Stiles stumbled through explaining what had happened that night. Derek just held him through it. He felt a little insecure when he finished. Over both the story and the ugly rock.
Derek just dropped his face into the crook of stiles neck and breathed out a thank you and that was that.
They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Stiles didn’t feel need to move. Moreover he didn’t want to. Which was a revelation in of itself. He would pay more attention to the maybe crush in morning, for now he was safe to sleep.
A few weeks later after everything calmed down and the pack is having a movie night, he give a rock to each member if the pack. Derek leaves the room for a second before returning. Later on that evening he goes to grab his sweater from Dereks room. He sees his three little rocks, now four. He absolutely falls in love with Derek in that moment. He didn’t know that Derek kept any of this rocks, but seeing the proof made him really happy.
Lydia makes a joke about stiles being a penguin. Stiles squawked in offense, of both himself and penguins. Claiming that giving rocks as a way of courting someone is perfectly valid. But that he wasn’t a penguin so it doesn’t count. She just gives him a knowing look.
This is what finally clues Derek in. His wolf already knew and was laughing at him.
Derek had wanted to give stiles back a rock when he confessed to him or on their first date or something romantic. Unfortunately that didn’t happen. Instead it happened after an exhausting fight with a troll. Stiles had stormed up to Derek about to lay into him for his self sacrificing tendencies. Derek thought stiles still looked like the most beautiful thing he had even seen. Even covered in gore.
So he plucked one of stiles waving hands out of the air and gave him the stone that had been in his pocket for far to long.
Like a switch of their roles, Stiles stared at the rock in quiet awe for a minute, while Derek stood insecure. Stiles let out a small giggle, quite happily whispered “he got me a rock, you got me a rock!!” And preceded to haul Derek by the shirt and kiss him.
Stiles goes around excitedly telling everyone that derek gave him a rock. He also used it in an argument with dad over their relationship.
They exchanged rocks and well as rings in their wedding. One of their wedding cake toppers were penguins.
Now that I’ve finished writing this all out I’m realizing that this could also be a creature stiles au.
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amiableness · 3 months ago
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Peonies ; part one
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Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader is devastated when Mattheo gets a girlfriend and asks Theo to help her get over him.
Word Count: 5030
Warnings: Unrequited love & reader crying. Let me know if there's more; I probably forgot something.
A/N 💌 I am so excited about the first part of this series—it's been in my head for weeks! Big thank you to @moonpascal for reading and editing! I'm so excited to hear your thoughts!
SERIES MASTERLIST <3
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Against your better judgment, you’d fallen hard for Mattheo Riddle. And yet, you were fully aware that nothing would ever come of it. 
You’d grown up in the same circles, your families often crossing paths at dinners and parties, but you were never particularly close—barely acknowledging each other in those polished, formal settings. It wasn’t until you both started at Hogwarts that any real connection formed. Being eleven and navigating the overwhelming experience of a new school was daunting for anyone. When you both were sorted into Slytherin, the shared familiarity in an unfamiliar place naturally drew you together.
Over time, you’d been there for him more times than you could count. You were the one cleaning his cuts after a fight, always telling him it was the last time because you couldn’t bear to see him get hurt. Yet, each time he showed up, you let him in with an exasperated huff, carefully tending to his wounds. When he’d appear at your door late at night, eyes dark with whatever was haunting him, you’d silently walk with him, sitting together in the quiet of the common room until the tension in his shoulders finally eased. You’d pretend to be annoyed when he asked to copy your coursework, but in truth, you savored every moment he sat close to you—the way his arm would brush against yours as he scribbled down your notes, the warmth of him, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air—leaving you longing for him to stay close just a little longer, even though you knew he never would.
He moved from one fling to the next, a string of one-night stands that never seemed to reach his heart. While you’d never been one of them, you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if you were. A stubborn, hopeless part of you clung to the fantasy that maybe, just maybe, he’d one day let you be the one he trusted with more than just a night tangled in the sheets.
Your friends always joked that if Mattheo ever got serious about a girl, it would be you—but you knew the chances of that were painfully slim.
So you were caught off guard when you walked into the common room and saw a girl you barely recognized sitting with your friends. Cozied up in the same armchair as Mattheo. Your steps faltered as you approached, trying to piece together who she was and why she was sitting with your friends. It wasn’t that you were opposed to meeting new people, but your group had never once welcomed anyone new.
“Hey, love.” Enzo murmured, patting the cushion beside him on the couch. He’s the only one who’s noticed you so far; the rest are absorbed in their heated discussion about the latest Quidditch match. You slide onto the couch next to him, your gaze briefly flicking to the girl sitting directly across from you, trying to place her.
“Hey, Enz.” You say with a soft smile, setting your bag down as you settle onto the couch.
“What’s going on?” You tilt your head toward the girl, and Enzo glances in her direction. She’s not paying attention, her gaze fixed on Mattheo with a lovesick expression.
“I’m not sure,” Enzo replies quietly, ensuring his voice doesn’t carry. “Mattheo just introduced us, and we’re all a bit confused about it too I think.”
“Oh.” You murmur and Enzo watches you carefully. He knows about your feelings for Mattheo; he’d have to be blind not to notice.
Enzo leans in closer, and you shift your gaze to him. “Listen, love—”
Enzo doesn’t get to finish before a soft gasp of your name catches your attention. You look over, surprised to see the girl leaning forward with her hand extended. You notice that her other hand still has a grip on Mattheo.
“I’m Veronica,” she says warmly, her smile never wavering. “Mattheo’s girlfriend.”
The word hits you like a punch to the gut. You’re at a loss for words, unsure if you can even find any.
Girlfriend. Since when does Mattheo Riddle have a girlfriend? And why wasn’t he introducing her himself?
You want to question her about it, to find out when this happened and how she managed to get past his walls. Because you had been trying for years. Instead, you sit there in stunned silence, your eyes darting between her hand and her face. Your mind is racing, trying to process the truth you’ve been blindsided by. You’d known he’d never be yours, not in the way you wanted, but hearing it, seeing it so plainly in front of you, feels like a cruel twist of fate.
Forcing a smile, you finally take her hand, the gesture automatic and devoid of real warmth. “Nice to meet you.” You manage to say, though the words feel foreign on your tongue.
Her smile widens, and she shifts closer to Mattheo as if silently asserting her place by his side. Your eyes flicker to Mattheo, whose attention is pulled to Veronica as she presses closer into him. You study his face intently, searching for any hint of his feelings toward her, hoping to find anything that might betray his feelings.
But when you see the way he looks at her—eyes soft, filled with a tenderness you’ve never seen from him before—your stomach churns with a sickening mix of jealousy and heartache. 
His eyes meet yours, and he smiles, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Can’t wait for my two favorite girls to get to know each other better,” he says, the warmth in his voice making your chest tighten.
You glance at Veronica as she nods enthusiastically. “Me too, Matty,” she says, her voice dripping with sweetness. “I’m already so excited for the girls’ nights we’re going to have.”
You can’t tell if she’s genuinely that nice or just putting on a show for Mattheo. “Oh yeah. Can’t wait,” you say, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. Neither of them notices the unease behind it—they’re too wrapped up in each other, their attention locked in a gaze that makes you feel invisible.
You tear your gaze away, the sight of them together too painful to endure, and instead turn to Enzo. “What the hell?” you mutter, barely managing to keep your voice steady.
“I’m sorry, love, I wanted to tell you before they did,” Enzo whispers, wincing as he gives your hand a quick squeeze. You murmur a soft “It’s okay,” but inside, you’re far from feeling that way.
Desperately, you try to compose yourself, but the effort feels pointless. As your eyes wander, they lock with Theo's. He’s watching you, his expression unreadable. You muster a soft smile, hoping to mask the heartbreak inside, but he doesn’t return it; he just keeps watching, his gaze heavy with something you can't quite place.
You manage to stay for half an hour, offering the occasional nod and murmured agreement to feign interest in the conversation. But your mind is elsewhere, detached from the words being exchanged. No one seems to notice your distraction; they’re all too absorbed in their own banter to catch the distant look in your eyes.
Without realizing it, your gaze keeps drifting back to the couple. Veronica rests her head on Mattheo’s shoulder, and his hand is gently resting on her knee, his thumb brushing softly against her skin. You can’t help but notice how at ease he seems with this physical intimacy—something you’re surprised he’d be so comfortable with.
When Pansy casually asked how Mattheo and Veronica had met, you felt a surge of restless energy. Without thinking, you abruptly stood up, the couch creaking loudly at the force. The sudden noise drew the attention of everyone in the room. All eyes shifted to you, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity as they awaited your next move.
“Um,” you winced as the room's gaze fixed on you, feeling the heat of their attention. “I’m afraid I'm coming down with a migraine. I’m going to bed early tonight.”
Your friends’ voices fade into the background as they shout their goodnights, the words scarcely reaching your ears. You speed through the common room and down the cold, empty hallway, desperate for the seclusion of your dorm. Just as you’ve made it halfway to your room, a firm grip catches your hand. Startled, you spin around to find Theo standing there, his eyes searching yours with a mix of concern and hesitation.
“Dolcezza,” he says softly, his voice a gentle caress in the quiet hallway. His eyes follow the tears streaming down your cheeks, and you watch through blurry vision as he takes a tentative step closer. “What’s going on?”
You open your mouth to respond but find yourself unable to form the words. The lump in your throat feels insurmountable. Instead, you just shake your head slightly, your tears continuing to fall unchecked.
He releases a quiet sigh and says, “Come here.” Without a second thought, you step closer, encircling his waist with your arms while resting your head against his chest. His arms come up to settle around your shoulders, and he gently rests his head against yours. As you press your face into his chest, sniffling softly, he whispers soothing words in Italian, his voice a comforting murmur. 
You must have been standing in the cold corridor for fifteen minutes before the distant murmur of approaching students prompts Theo to gently pull himself from you. He takes your hand, his touch warm against the chill, guiding you away from the freezing corridor.
“It’s just you and Pansy, right?” He asks, using his hand to guide you in front of him to let you go ahead and enter your room first.
“Yeah, but she’ll probably stay with Blaise.” You say softly, the strain in your voice revealing that you’ve been crying. ​​Theo doesn’t say anything; he’s long since lost count of the times he’s told them off for leaving the curtains open or forgetting to cast a silencing spell. Instead, he follows you into your dorm, the door clicking softly behind him.
The walls are lined with polaroids of the group, and Theo’s gaze lingers on the numerous pictures of you and Mattheo. Your dark wood desk is topped with a silver lamp and a few textbooks, its surface cluttered with quills and scattered notes. Mattheo’s jersey is draped over the back of your chair, and Theo recalls all the times seeing you wear it at each game. Your teddy, a well-worn bear that Theo recognizes as the same one you bring every year, sits at the top of your desk. 
The room feels markedly warmer than the corridor outside, though it might just be because it’s your room.
“You can sit.” You offer. Theo’s eyes move to where you’re perched on the edge of your bed watching him.
You’ve kicked off your shoes and tossed your robes over your trunk. He swallows, his gaze lingering on you. Despite the tear stains on your cheeks, he finds it hard to look away, thinking how pretty you look.
It’s rare for him to spend time with you alone. Usually, when you’re together, it’s with the rest of your friends. Over the years, you’ve been paired up in classes a few times, but neither of you has ever gone out of your way to be alone together.
He sits down next to you on the bed, deliberately leaving some space between you. For a while, neither of you speaks. When Theo finally glances at you out of the corner of his eye, he notices you staring at a polaroid of you and Mattheo. It was taken at a party celebrating Slytherin’s win. In the photo, you’re perched on his lap, one arm casually draped around his shoulder, the other holding up a cup of whatever you were drinking. Your smile is bright, full of life, while Mattheo’s is more subdued, but there’s no mistaking the way he’s looking at you—content, almost in awe, as you laugh above him.
He was sure you two were going to get together that night.
“Dolcezza,” He murmurs. You hum to show you’re listening, but don’t look away from the picture. “You know I’m here for you. In any way you need me.”
You can’t tear your eyes away from the picture at first, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you stare at it. Finally, you let out a sigh and turn to him, “I appreciate that. But how fair would it be for me to vent about your best friend to you?”
It’s the first time he’s ever heard you say anything that hints at your feelings for Mattheo.
“I don’t care about him right now. I care about you.” He says, and you look a tad surprised at his words.
There’s a moment of quiet as you process Theo’s words. He’s always been Mattheo’s best friend, so hearing him dismiss Mattheo like that catches you off guard. You hesitate, not wanting to unload all your feelings onto him, especially since the mere thought of talking about Mattheo and Veronica makes your stomach turn.
“Theo,” you sigh, your voice tinged with vulnerability, on the verge of breaking. He can hear how close you are to tears. “Will you lie with me? If that’s weird, I understand—”
But before you can finish, Theo gently takes your hand, his grip warm and reassuring, leaving no room for doubt. He gives a small nod, silently gesturing for you to lie down, and you follow his lead. 
“Where do you want me, dolcezza?” he asks, his voice soft. You feel a momentary hesitation, your heart stuttering at the tenderness in his tone.
“Um,” you murmur, turning onto your side, feeling the vulnerability settling in your stomach. “Will you face me?”
Theo doesn’t hesitate. He moves effortlessly, sliding into place beside you. You watch as he slips off his shoes and sets them aside, then settles himself on the bed, positioning his body so he’s facing you. You find yourself holding your breath, acutely aware of how close he is—how you’re sharing the same pillow and could study every detail of his face if you wanted to.
“Thank you.” You say, and you cringe inwardly at the way your voice wavers. It’s as if your sadness is laid bare, impossible to mask.
His eyes gently trace your features, a soft concern evident in his expression as he takes in the sight of you, “For?”
“Laying with me. Coming to check on me,” Your voice drops to a whisper and your eyes well up in tears when you think about why you were upset in the first place. “It means a lot.”
Theo lets out a soft hum, his gaze tender as he lifts his hand to gently brush away a tear that slips from your eye. His touch lingers, the pad of his thumb making slow, deliberate strokes against your skin, as if taking his time. His eyes meet yours, and you watch him with your lips slightly parted, overwhelmed by the unexpected tenderness of his touch. The softness of his fingers against your face feels soothing; you’ve never had anyone touch you like this before.
You shift closer to Theo, and for a moment, he tenses, as if unsure of your proximity. The hesitation makes you wonder if this closeness is too much, but then he wraps his arm around you and draws you in, holding you firmly against him. You let your eyes flutter shut, inhaling his cologne—surprisingly more comforting to you than Mattheo’s—and feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt.
As his fingers move gently over your hair, a calming touch, you rest your head against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat becomes a soothing reminder that you aren’t alone, and soon you find yourself drifting off, wrapped in his quiet of your dorm.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
When you wake up, Theo is gone, and you’re not sure if you’re more disappointed or relieved. Given how you feel, you’re leaning toward the latter. Your head throbs with a sharp, relentless ache, and your puffy eyes serve as a reminder of the tears you shed last night.
You’re nearly done getting ready when Pansy slips into the dorm, her brows knitting in surprise as she takes in the sight of you. 
Her gaze lingers on the dark circles under your eyes and the slight tremor in your hands as you fix your tie, “I didn’t think you’d be leaving the dorm today.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” You snap and Pansy raises an amused brow at the agitation in your voice.
“I didn’t think you’d be in the mood to see them.” She heads to her trunk, her current clothes rumpled and clearly in need of a fresh uniform. You don’t need her to spell it out—you know exactly who she’s talking about.
“I left because I had a migraine.” You grit out and she glances over her shoulder, obviously amused and doubtful at your answer.
“Really? A migraine after seeing those two?” Pansy hums, rummaging through her trunk with deliberate slowness, her eyes flicking to you as if gauging your reaction. “They were all over each other last night. Who’s to say they won’t be again today?”
You stiffen at the mention of Mattheo and his girlfriend, your fingers pausing on your tie. The events of last night rush back—Veronica’s hand on Mattheo, the way he looked at her. You feel a fresh wave of nausea but push it down, not wanting to give Pansy the satisfaction of seeing you upset.
“It doesn’t bother me.” You mutter, trying to sound indifferent, though your voice wavers slightly. You force your hands to finish with your tie, pulling it tighter than necessary.
Pansy glances over at you, a flicker of something like sympathy in her eyes, as she drops the amused smirk, “You know you can tell me, right? About how you feel about him.”
You study Pansy, debating whether to finally say what you’ve kept to yourself for so long. It’s only been hours since you basically admitted it to Theo, and now telling Pansy feels like too much—though you’re sure they’d suspected for a while. But voicing it out loud feels like stepping into territory you’re not ready to face.
“What difference does it make, Pans? He’s got a girlfriend now.” You sigh, the sadness from last night seeping into your words. She abandons her trunk, standing up to fully face you, her expression unreadable.
“If it helps, we were all surprised.” She says, her voice unexpectedly gentle. “None of us had a clue he was sleeping with anyone more than once.”
Your stomach churns further, “I don’t think that really helps, Pans.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” she says, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of comfort. “I could make her life a nightmare if you want. Perhaps then she’d decide it’s not worth it.”
“No,” you say, wincing as you stare at the wall, feeling the heaviness of the room. “I want him to be happy, and if she makes him happy, then I need to accept it. Even if it hurts.”
Pansy narrows her eyes, disbelief crossing her face. “Are you joking? You’d make him happy—”
“Pansy,” you cut her off, frustration making your voice sharper. “I don’t need you to fix this. I just need to figure out how to deal with it myself.”
Pansy falls silent, her gaze shifting as she takes in the raw pain on your face, a flicker of guilt passing over her expression. She heads off to change, leaving you on your bed, the weight of her offer hanging in the air. You sit there, lost in thought, waiting for her to finish getting ready. Despite her nights spent with Blaise, you both always made a point to walk to breakfast together.
When Pansy finally emerges, you both make your way to the Great Hall in quiet unison. The hum of conversation and the steady flow of students around you create a backdrop of normalcy.
“What did you do after you left last night?” Pansy asks, her gaze shifting from the bustling corridor to you.
“Had a good cry.” You reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the heaviness you feel.
Pansy’s brow furrows. “Darling, you shouldn’t have been alone.”
“I wasn’t.” You say, almost reluctantly.
“What do you mean?”
“Theo came back to the dorm with me,” you explain, your voice softer now. “He stayed with me, just… holding me, until I fell asleep.”
Pansy’s eyes widen slightly, and she falls quiet for a moment, “He did?”
You let out a soft hum, and Pansy grips at your hand, her touch both firm and reassuring. Her eyes reflect a mix of concern and guilt as she looks at you.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice softening with sincerity. “I should’ve come to check on you instead of leaving it to Theo. I didn’t realize your feelings for Mattheo were this strong.”
You shake your head slightly, your gaze dropping to where her fingers clasp yours. “It’s okay,” you murmur, trying to steady your voice. “Theo being there helped more than I thought it would. I’m glad I wasn’t alone.”
Pansy nods, her expression softening. “I wish I’d known,” she says quietly. “I would’ve gone with you immediately. I just thought you needed some space.”
You offer a small, appreciative smile, grateful for her concern. “Thanks, Pansy. It means a lot.”
Pansy pulls you into a warm hug, and despite the heaviness in your chest, you can’t help but chuckle at the unexpected show of affection. When she finally lets go, she takes your hand and leads you toward the Great Hall. 
As you make your way to the Slytherin table, your spirits, momentarily lifted by Pansy’s support, are quickly deflated when you see who’s occupying your usual spot.
A heavy weight settles in your stomach as you spot Veronica nestled against Mattheo’s side, her head tilted as she whispers something into his ear. His laughter, genuine and warm, makes your appetite vanish. You decide that you’re not very hungry anymore.
You swallow hard, struggling to keep your emotions in check. Pansy gives your hand a comforting squeeze and gestures toward an empty seat beside Theo. Usually, Theo would be across from Mattheo, but today he’s positioned next to Draco. You hesitate, not wanting to assume he saved the spot for you, but then Theo turns and offers you a gentle smile—a smile you’ve never seen him give anyone else. As you stand there, he reaches out with that soft smile, his hand extended to gently guide you into the seat beside him.
You settle into the seat beside Theo, and with a resigned sigh, you reach for some food to add to your plate. Even though your appetite is all but gone, you know it’s important to eat.
Theo leans in slightly, his voice a low murmur as he meets your gaze. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up,” he says quietly. “I had something I needed to take care of.” “That’s alright,” You murmur, sending him a quick, soft smile. “Were you able to get any sleep last night?”
Theo hesitates, unsure whether to tell you that it was the best sleep he’s had in a while or simply agree. He settles for a nod, “Uh yeah. I slept pretty good. Did you?”
“As well as I could,” You shrug, “But it was nice having you there.” He can see how flustered you are to utter those words, your gaze fixed on the tea you're stirring, and he struggles to resist the urge to offer to stay the night with you again.
“I meant what I said. I’m here for you in anyway that you need me.” You turn towards him, your expression softening as you take in the genuine look on his face. Your lips part, but you can’t manage to get anything past them. The way he’s looking at you makes you nervous.
“Oi! What are you two whispering about?” Theo’s head snaps toward Draco, who is watching you both with a look of clear distaste at the way you were leaning into each other, gazing at one another so intently.
“Nothing.” Theo snaps out, and Draco raises an eyebrow at the sharpness in his tone. A sly grin begins to form on Draco’s face as he opens his mouth to speak, but Theo interrupts with a low murmur that you can’t quite make out. Draco doesn’t say anything, but faces his breakfast with a disgruntled look on his face.
Theo engages in a lively conversation with Enzo and Draco, leaving you content to eat in quiet. However, it’s not long before Veronica's giggles start to cut through the silence, growing louder with each passing moment. When you finally look up, your heart sinks. Mattheo’s arm is wrapped around her waist, pulling her close as he murmurs something into her ear. She glances up at him, still laughing, and Mattheo leans in, pressing a kiss to her lips.
Overwhelmed, you instinctively reach for Theo’s thigh, your hand gripping it tightly as you try to steady yourself. Theo looks at you, startled by your sudden reaction, but you’re not meeting his gaze. Instead, he follows your line of sight to where Mattheo and Veronica are entwined, lost in their own world. 
He drops his fork with a sigh, his hand immediately reaching out to grasp yours with a firm, reassuring grip. His touch is warm and steady as he gently pulls your focus from the scene before you. Theo's gaze lingers on the tear-brimmed edges of your eyes, his expression a mix of concern and quiet determination. He glances at your friends, still lost in their animated conversation, and feels a pang of relief that they’re oblivious to the devastation written across your face.
“C’mon,” he murmurs, rising from his seat while maintaining a firm hold on your hand. With a quick, reassuring glance, he leans down to grab your bag. “I’ll walk you to class a bit early.”
Without a word, you follow him, casting a glance back at Pansy. You silently mouth ‘class’ to her as she watches you with curiosity from over your shoulder. If your friends notice the way Theo’s hand is intertwined with yours, they make no sign of it.
The moment you're out in the hall, it feels like you can finally breathe again. A few tears slip down your cheeks, and you cling tightly to Theo’s hand as you walk, finding some comfort in the steady warmth of his touch. You appreciate how he doesn’t push you to talk or ask any questions, just quietly staying by your side. There's a comfort in knowing he’s there if you need him, without the pressure to say a word.
After a couple minutes of walking, you squeeze his hand and Theo glances over at you, “I’m not sure how I’m going to do this.”
He squeezes your hand back, “What do you mean?”
“Seeing them together,” You mumble. “It really hurts.”
“I’m sorry, dolcezza.” He speaks softly, wishing he had the right words to offer, some way to tell you how to get over someone. But the truth is, he’s still trying to figure it out himself.
“Will you help me get over him?” Theo's steps falter slightly at your question, his heart aching at the vulnerability in your voice. He swallows, the weight of your words sinking in. 
He glances at you, unease settling in his stomach, “How exactly?” He briefly considers the fact that whatever you ask of him could make him fall for you more. But as long as it meant you were happy.
You hesitate, your gaze dropping to the floor as you search for the right words. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just… be there, I guess. Help me forget about him. Distract me.”
Theo nods slowly, his mind racing. He wants to say something, to offer more than just his presence, but he knows that pushing too hard might make things worse. Instead, he gently squeezes your hand again, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a comforting rhythm.
“I can do that,” he murmurs, his voice steady despite the nerves inside him. “I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”
You offer him a small, grateful smile, and he can see the hint of sadness still lingering in your eyes. It breaks his heart, but he pushes those feelings aside. Right now, what matters is helping you heal, even if it means hiding his own growing feelings for you.
As you continue walking, Theo keeps you close, his hand never leaving yours. And though he doesn’t say it out loud, he silently vows to do whatever it takes to make you smile again, even if it means keeping his own heartache hidden in the process.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
By the time you reach your dorm, exhaustion weighs heavily on you. You’ve spent the entire day with your head down, avoiding any sight of Mattheo and Veronica. The silence between you and Mattheo feels foreign; it’s the first time you’ve gone a whole day without speaking to him, and you’re unsure if he even noticed your absence.
Unfortunately, you share several classes with both Mattheo and, evidently, Veronica. The sound of her laugh has become something you never want to hear again.
You kick off your shoes, fatigue weighing heavily on your limbs as you move towards your bed. As you pass your desk, something catches your eye—a bundle of red flowers sitting on top of your books. You pause, your curiosity piqued, and approach the desk. With a gentle touch, you lift the bundle, revealing vibrant red peonies. Their rich color stands out against the soft light filtering through the window, and their subtle, sweet fragrance fills the air.
Your eyes catch a note nestled among the flowers. You bite your lip to hide a smile as you read his messy handwriting: your name followed by a simple heart.
please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write! 💌
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pretentious-blonde · 2 months ago
Text
patched up
pairing: remus lupin x reader
summary: you help remus clean up after the full moon, reminding him once again how much he is loved, even if he thinks he is underserving
warnings: cuts, wounds, physical pain
a/n: all i write is hurt/comfort, and I'm not even mad
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Remus sat on the old leather couch, a book in his hand that just couldn’t seem to grasp his attention. His free fingers traced small circles on your legs, which you had ungracefully thrown over his own as you lounged together in the living room. It was still early, just coming up for noon, you both were aware of the time. Even if the knowledge was unspoken. 
It was the full moon tonight, and despite the routine that you both had become familiar with, the boy couldn’t shake the nerves that coiled and twisted inside of him. 
You pretended not to notice what he was doing, glancing at the door every couple of minutes, waiting for the inevitable knock. James and Sirius would arrive any moment now, take him away, far away for yet another transformation. You were used to it by now. 
One thing that was always constant was that they had always been there for him, he appreciated that, but he hated leaving you. Especially when you gave him that soft, reassuring smile. Like everything would be fine. Like everything was fine.
“Rem,” you spoke softly, catching those big, brown eyes. His body was tense beneath you. 
“I’m alright, dove,” he gave you a weak smile, his fingers stopping their patterns to give your calf a light squeeze. “Just… you know.”
And you did know. Painfully so.
You nodded, understanding him completely. You were about to speak more, but were interrupted by the shrill ring of the doorbell. He stiffened even more at the sound. Hand stilling.
He sighed and closed the book, setting it aside. His gaze moved to the hand on your leg, not wanting to move it, wanting to keep the inevitable away for just a second longer. 
“It’s time,” he tells you quietly, like he does every month. His voice carried a sadness that he couldn’t hide completely. 
You place your hand on top of his own, your smile gentle but knowing. “I’ll be right here. Waiting for you to get back, okay?”
He stood up, pulling you with him, tall body towering over your own. He let his hand linger on the small of your back as you both headed to the front door. When he opened it, James and Sirius stood waiting outside, both smiling softly as they knew what was to come. The car behind them was still running, headlights cutting through the fog, casting a warm glow behind them. 
“Hey, mate,” James begins, smiling up at Remus. “You ready?”
Sirius leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, his usual smirk missing from his face. “We’re ready when you are,” he said. His voice light in an attempt to ease your boyfriend’s nerves. “If you need a breather before we go, just say the word.”
Remus shook his head, he would rather just get this over and done with, no more stalling. You could feel the stress in his body increase as the hand on your waist held on a little tighter. 
Sirius, sensing the clear tension that settled heavily in the air, finally cracked a smile. “Don’t worry,” he waved his hand in front of him. “You’ll be back here with your girl before you know it.” He said, winking in your direction.
James also turns his attention to you, giving you a mock salute, “He is in safe hands, don’t you fret.”
“And we won’t allow him to get too grumpy when we return him,” Sirius added, side-eyeing the man standing next to you. Remus runs a hand over his face at their teasing.
You rolled your eyes and gave them a half-glare, happy that they were trying to keep things light. 
“I trust you both,” you say, tone teasing but nonetheless truthful. “Bring him back in one piece.”
James nods. “You have our word.”
Remus lets out a small, grateful smile before turning his attention back to you. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, allowing his hand to linger on your cheek for a moment. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening, darling. I promise,” he tells you, his gaze was intense. The act of leaving you now was painful. 
You leaned forward and hugged him tightly, his own long arms wrapping around you immediately. Secure and firm, he never wanted to let go. 
“I know you will,” you whispered into his chest, voice muffled by his worn jumper. “I’ll be here.”
Remus reluctantly loosened his embrace, kissing your forehead gently as he allowed himself to linger. 
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmured as he held your chin. Warm, tired eyes burrowing into your own. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you say quickly. He already knew that but—god—did it feel good to hear you say it back. He turned towards the car behind him, giving you a small wave before climbing in. 
Remus settled into the back seat as the other two slid into the front. He watched you as the car sped away, trying to push down the knots his stomach was tying. Sirius leaned back, tossing him a lighthearted grin from the passenger seat.
“Come on, Moony,” Sirius said, trying to help him relax. “It’s just another moon. We have done this hundreds of times now.”
"Another moon, another miserable night,” Remus grumbled, no longer having the will to fake a smile. You weren’t there anymore. 
James glanced back from the driver’s seat, a sympathetic look now in his eyes. “You’ll be alright, mate. Besides, from the way you’re moping, I’d say you’re just lovesick.”
“Definitely lovesick,” Sirius said, nodding his head in agreement.
Remus sighed, staring out the trees flying past the window. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I am. I’m damn lucky to be.”
James and Sirius exchanged a quick, knowing look, but didn’t tease him further. Remus just wanted to get through this—so he could go back to the one person who made everything else worth it.
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Remus tried his hardest to be silent when he entered, opening the door gently to lessen the loud creak, his movements were slow and heavy as he stepped inside. It was late—much later than he intended to be—every inch of his tired body screamed in protest at the slightest movement. He winced as a sharp pain shot through his ribcage, having to reach out and steady himself against the wall, closing the door behind him. 
It had been bad this time. Really bad. James and Sirius had confirmed it, as if the fresh wounds couldn’t tell him that already. Their concerned faces still clear in his memory. 
The cuts on his body were deep—deeper than usual—one stretching across his chest, another on his arm, and a particularly nasty one that covered the side of his face. He had no recollection of how he acquired them, but they offered a fresh reminder of what he was. What he could become. 
He trudged up the stairs, each step more painful than the last, eventually making his way to the bathroom. He avoided the mirror, the last thing he wanted to see was his reflection—the scars, the bandages, the tired eyes that always seemed more hollow after the events of a full moon. He quickly redressed the lacerations on his torso, delaying touching the one on his cheek. 
He didn’t want to see what it looked like, but he had no choice. He needed to change it. He would just have to do it fast. 
Glancing up quickly, he caught a brief glimpse of himself. He felt the air knocked out of his lungs. Immediately he looked away, biting down another wave of familiar self-loathing that flowed through him. 
He hated this—hated how he looked, how his body was always going to be a physical reminder of how cursed he was. How much of a monster he was. 
With shaky hands, he removed a bandage from its plastic casing, placing it on his face as swiftly as he could. He pulled out a loose set of pyjamas and quickly slipped them on his aching body, just wanting to crawl into bed and pretend the previous night never happened.
He opened the door to your shared bedroom and paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of your sleeping figure. You were lying peacefully on your side of the bed, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the sound of your breathing drew him closer to you. 
He paused before he got in, just standing there for a moment, taking you in, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips for the first time in over twenty-four hours. He loved you. God, he loved you. The one thing in his life he would never get near his tribulation. The one thing that kept him going. 
Carefully, he slipped in next to you, taking extra care not to rouse you. The ache in his arms flared up as he pulled back the heavy duvet, but he forced himself to ignore it. After all, what was a little discomfort when he could be close to you?
He shuffled closer, wincing at the pain that shot through his muscles, but it appeared to melt into the background as he felt your warmth permeate his skin. 
For a moment, he was content just laying there next to you, watching you sleep. If you were awake you would probably call him a creep. He stifled a chuckle at the image that formed in his mind. 
His heart ached—not from the wounds or exhaustion he had sustained, but from the overwhelming combination of emotions he felt for you. He hoped you were sleeping well, lord knows he wouldn’t be. Not with the soreness that was coursing through his drained body, but his own well-being didn’t concern him right now. What mattered was that he was here, with you. 
With a soft sigh, he gently pulled your sleeping form closer to him, his arms trembling slightly with the strain. The throbbing in his chest flared up again, but he ignored it. Instead, he buried his face in your hair and let the steady sound of your breathing soothe him. He kissed the top of your head, whispering into the silent room. 
“I’m home, love,” he murmured, voice almost inaudible as sleep began to pull him under. “Promised I would be.”
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The first thing you felt when you stirred was a familiar warmth, strong arms wrapped around you, and for a brief moment, your heart swelled with relief. He was back. He always came back to you. But every time he managed to crawl back home you couldn’t help but worry if it would be worse than the last time. You shifted slightly, turning in his embrace in order to get a better look at him—that’s when you noticed. 
The fresh bandages, hastily applied, peeked out from his long sleeve, another covering the side of his face. You ached for him at the sight of them. You pulled your arms from beneath the duvet, reaching out to touch the dressing. Your fingers hovered just above it, pausing mid-air as you stopped yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him more. You didn’t know what lay beneath them. 
You wriggled out of his hold, taking additional time and care so as to not wake the man sleeping soundly next to you. He needed the rest. You were certain he would be in pain as soon as he rose, and as much as the idea of staying in his arms sounded heavenly, you decided to make yourself useful. 
Padding quietly to the kitchen, odd socks on your feet, you grab two cups from the cupboard above your head. You had to go on your tiptoes to reach them. Usually, Remus would insist on getting them for you—he had once seen you clamber up onto the counter and it nearly gave him a heart attack—but he was preoccupied today. 
The kettle bubbled softly as you pulled out the jar of tea, along with the packet of biscuits—chocolate, of course, his preferred choice. You prepared it in the way he taught you, letting it brew for a good couple of minutes before removing the teabag, pouring in a healthy glug of milk. You returned to the bedroom, steaming mugs in hand and the packet of biscuits under your arm. 
The brunette began to stir at the soft crackle of plastic as you placed the treats on the bedside table, holding your own mug close to your chest as you sat on the floor beside the bed. You watched his eyes as they fluttered open. 
“Hey,” you whispered, tilting your head to the side to look at him horizontally. “How are you feeling?”
He winced as he shifted over, his body still unbearably sore. His tired eyes met yours, and despite everything, he managed to give you a faint smile. It was hard not to when you looked at him like that. 
“I’ve been better,” he replied, his voice husky with sleep. 
You shook your head at his attempts to downplay his clear discomfort, trying to mask the worry in your eyes that was surely present. 
“I made you tea,” you gesture to the cup next to you, pale wisps dancing around the top of it. He liked it hot, straight from the kettle. It amazed you how he could handle drinking it so fast. “And your favourite.”
“I’m a lucky man,” he said as he sat up, voice slightly strained as he finished his sentence. He reached out and dipped the biscuit in his mug, making a sound of relief as he popped it into his mouth, allowing the rich flavour to melt over his tongue. 
He took a sip of his tea, sleeve rolling up slightly as he leant over, bandage visible. You didn’t want to mention how poorly they had been applied, you didn’t want to remind him. But it had to be done, for his sake. 
“Rem,” you began gently, not wanting to upset him. “You need to change those.”
Immediately, he stiffened, his body pausing mid-sip. He loathed this part—being looked after and the vulnerability that came with it. 
“Do I?” He muttered, voice lacking the spark it had when he woke up, clearly embarrassed at your statement. 
You nodded solemnly, cringing at the discomfort in his eyes. “It might get infected,” you tell him. “You’re tired. Let me help you, please?”
He hesitated for a moment, an internal battle occurring in his head, before giving you one of his kind smiles. “Alright,” he responded, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. “Can I finish my tea first?”
You giggled, worry easing just a little. “Of course,” you say, nodding your head. “We’ll do it after.”
He placed his soon-empty cup on the side next to him, sighing heavily as he nodded to you. “Alright, love,” he said reluctantly. “I’m ready.”
You stand up slowly, reaching out to take his hesitant hand, leading him towards the bathroom. He traced your knuckles with his thumb as you both continued down the hallway. When you opened the door, he immediately hopped up on the counter silently. Ignoring the mirror and instead choosing to look down at his lap.
The first aid kit was under the sink, a pack that you always kept fully stocked. You quickly grabbed it before returning to your place in front of him, standing in between his spread legs. Your heart felt heavy at how exhausted he looked. How broken. But you refused to let him see that. He didn’t need to worry about you being worried about him. He had enough to deal with as it is. 
“Can I take your jumper off?” You ask him softly, afraid of raising your voice. You needed to take care of him, and from the looks of it, he wanted to be as far away from this situation as possible. 
His eyes left his lap and locked with yours. For a second, he looked as though he might say something, but instead, he just nodded. Words seemingly too hard to form right now. 
You tried to keep your hands steady as you reached out, gently pulling the fabric over his head, keeping the material as far away from his body as you removed it. You folded up the material and placed it to the side, allowing him to get more comfortable with his bare skin showing before you gave him your attention again. But nothing could have prepared you for what you saw. 
Bandages—there were so many of them, scattered haphazardly across his torso and arms. Each one was a significant reminder of what he had been through the previous night. You swallowed hard, putting on a brave face as you knew he was watching your every movement. 
“You ready?” You asked, needing verbal confirmation as you knew this was going to hurt. Not just him, but yourself as well. 
His lips twitched up into a half-smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he quipped, trying to take the edge off, but the pain was clear in his low voice. 
You peeled off the dressings, not earning a large reaction from the boy sitting in front of you. Most of them had become unstuck as he slept, making your job easier. You reached for the cloth and antiseptic, deciding to start with the easier gashes first. Your touch was diligent and gentle as you cleaned him, dabbing carefully at the blood and dirt that clung to his skin. 
He must have been shattered last night to skip this. That fact made you even more determined to fix this. To fix him. You couldn’t offer much, but you would do whatever you thought would help. Every few minutes, you’d glance up, wordlessly checking on him. Waiting for the swift bob of his head as he urges you to keep going. 
“Am I hurting you?” You knew the answer already, but you needed to know how much. 
“Only a little,” he lied, a faint smirk appearing on his face. “I’ve been though worse, dove.”
You roll your eyes at his ill attempt of humour, but at least he was able to crack a joke. That was a good sign. 
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you murmered as you pressed down on a particularly nasty cut, earning a small hiss from him. You hurried up when you heard the noise, not wanting to be the one behind his torture. 
Finally, you turned your attention to the injury on his face, the angry red line that ran from his collarbone all the way up to his cheek. The sight of it yanked at your heartstrings and you knew you failed to mask your reaction, his body stiffened. Eyes darting away from yours as he attempted to look away. You caught his chin before he could withdraw into himself, forcing him to look at you. 
Big, doe eyes filled with guilt, shame even, and it devastated you. He cleared his throat with a sharp cough, his voice gravely. “You shouldn’t have to do this,” he muttered, gaze dropping again despite the grip on his chin. “You shouldn’t—have to take care of me like this.”
You removed your hold on him, allowing both of your hands to continue working, dabbing gently as his mouth curled at the stinging sensation. “Remus,” you whispered, your voice filled with compassion. “I want to take care of you. I love taking care of you.”
He shook his head slightly, the conversation paining him more than your actions. “You’re too good to me,” he tells you, his voice monotone as if he was just speaking a fact. “Look at me, darling. I’m—I’m a mess.”
You smiled at the angelic boy in front of you and placed a kiss on his cheekbone, just above the cut. He really couldn’t see what you saw. What his friends saw in him. How he treated you all. He was the most selfless person you had ever met, going above and beyond for each and every person he cared for. 
It wasn’t a skill that could be taught. It was innate. It was Remus. Always had been. 
“You’re not a mess,” you say firmly. “You are mine. I love you—every scar, every mark, every part of you.”
You saw his throat bob as he swallowed, his eyes slightly glassy as he stared at you. He always struggled to allow people to give him affection, not believing he deserved it. He didn’t know where to put all the love you gave him. He always felt unworthy of it. 
But in that moment, just the two of you in the cramped bathroom, illuminated by the small ceiling bulb. It felt right. Your fingers brushing over his scars, some fresher, some older, he thought maybe…just maybe. It would all be alright. 
You finish the last dressing, smoothing it over his skin with the same tenderness you treated all the others. “All done,” you tell him, feeling proud of your handiwork. 
Remus lets out a relieved chuckle at your pride. “I’d say you’ve missed your calling, love. Should’ve been a nurse.”
“Oh yeah?” You laugh, feeling the tension leave the room. “Maybe I’ll change careers.”
“I take it back,” he says quickly, eyes softening with affection. “I want you all to myself. I’m selfish.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I have the whole of today off,” you say, throwing the used bandages and their wrappers into the bin by the door. “We can do whatever you want.”
He raised an eyebrow, your words tempting him. “Anything?”
“Yep, anything at all,” you nod at him. “Within your...physical capabilities,” you quickly add. There is no way that would be happening in his condition. 
“Well you’re no fun,” Remus frowns playfully, mischief still swimming in his eyes. “But I’m sure I can come up with something riveting for the both of us.”
You put your hands on your hips, assuming a determined stance. “I’m ready for whatever you’ve got in mind.”
He hums, pleased with your statement, lowering himself down from the counter and pulling his jumper back on. Grimacing as it brushes his skin. He motions for you to follow him into the living room, watching as he winces as he sits down on the couch, his face briefly tightening in pain. But then, true to form, he opens his wide arms and looks at you expectantly. “Come on then.”
You go to take a step forward but hesitate. You would love nothing more than to drape yourself over him, but the sight of his bandages stops you. “I don’t want to hurt you…”
A look of warmth crossed his face, shaking his head with a tender smile. “It’ll hurt more if you don’t let me hold you, darling. Come on.”
You can’t help but melt at his kind words, you gently ease yourself onto the couch, mindful of his injuries and not putting your full weight on him. His arms encase you instantly, pulling you impossibly closer despite the clear discomfort it caused him. 
“You’re stubborn, you know that?” You scold him, your cheek resting on his chest, mindful of the dressing on the opposite side. 
“Stubborn? No.” He quips, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Hopelessly in love? Maybe.”
You giggle, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you in a steady rhythm. “A bit of both, I think.”
It’s his turn now to chuckle, his tired bones relaxing further into the soft cushions. “You might be right.”
You both just lie there in a comfortable silence, the sound of the world beginning to wake up outside only added to the ambience. He was at peace with you In his embrace, glancing down at you as you gazed at him softly. Fingers tracing gentle circles on an unharmed piece of his chest. 
“So…” you begin, continuing your motions. “Any grand ideas for today?”
He shakes his head, stopping to meet your eyes, lips curling into a lazy smile. “Honestly? Just this. Just you.” His voice is playful but his words have never been more true. “Don’t need anything else.”
“Smooth,” you say sarcastically, suppressing a smirk of your own. 
“I’m serious, love,” he chuckles. “I can’t think of a better way to spend today.”
Your heart soared at his words, you carefully shifted to cup his face. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
He pushes himself further into your palm, eyes closing for the briefest of moments, his hand coming up to cover your own. “Have I mentioned that you’re too good for me?” He tries to make it sound like a joke, but the familiar self-doubt can still be heard in his voice. 
“Unfortunately, far too much,” you playfully glare. “You stubborn man.”
He reopens his eyes, now filled with an overwhelming amount of affection. It almost takes your breath away. 
“Then I’m sure you’ve heard me say how lucky I am as well,” he teases, his expression never faltering. 
“I’m the lucky one,” you grin cheekily, brushing back a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “My boyfriend makes an excellent cup of tea.”
“Is that all I’m here for?” He asks in mock offence, pulling you flush against him, despite the twinge of pain it caused. “Keeping me around for my tea-making skills?”
“Exactly,” you nestle your head against him. 
At that moment, everything felt right to him. Just the two of you, safe, together. Nothing else mattered to him apart from the girl in his arms. He knows the pain will linger—the scars, the transformations, all of it. But with you—his anchor—it feels just about bearable. And for the first time in a long time. He allows himself to feel hope. The hope of your future together. 
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luveline · 3 months ago
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this is quite vague, sorry, but would you please write more for coworker James? maybe him and r are sneaking around to kiss or they go out or Sirius and Remus find out. Idk whatever you feel like!!
you and James at the end of a secret date | ty for requesting! fem
You kissed James because you had to. You’ve never felt that pull before, but he’d been sitting there on the step next to you, close enough to see the freckles on his nose and count them, and— well, it’s hard to explain. But you kissed him. 
So far, it’s working in your favour. 
“It’s fine,” James says, breathless where he’s kissing your neck. 
“No, I think I broke it,” you say, squirming away from him to see the lamp where it’s fallen. “Shit.”
James had been kissing you on his sofa and your arm had a mind of its own, moving backward, whacking the body of the lamp where it had been living innocently on the side table. Now it’s in five separate pieces on the floor, but James doesn’t care. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“I’m not.”
You laugh, a little lost in the way he’s touching you. James isn’t being too much, despite your legs spread around his hips to let him kiss you and the slip of your stomach that’s exposed itself. He’s kissing you hard, yes, but he isn’t grabbing anything too sensitive. He isn’t initiating, just kissing. 
“No, ‘cos– ‘cos I’ve broken it, I have, I’ll have to buy you another one. It’s from IKEA, right? It’s–”
“It’s from IKEA,” James affirms, lifting his face from your neck to meet your eyes. His lips are pink from kissing, the tip of his nose ruddied. “I can get another one any hour of the day. Can you stop worrying?” 
“No.” 
James laughs and holds your cheek. “No, I guess you can’t. And I was getting ahead of myself, wasn’t I?” He turns his hand, stroking your under eye with a careful fingernail. “It’s getting late. I should drive you home.” 
You’re crestfallen, then. “Is it?” 
He checks his watch. “S’almost eleven.” 
You have work tomorrow. You’ll have to wake at 6AM. But you don’t want to leave, don’t want James to get off of you, don’t want to go back to the office where you’re still pretending to hate him. 
Not very well, mind you, but pretending all the same. 
You’re distracted from your melancholy by the marvel of him above you. His hair seems darker than ever today, black and shiny and nice to touch, a tad mussed from your hands. You smooth down each wanton curl and get a good look at his eyes. His lashes… it leaves you breathless again, how long they are, how beautiful he seems. 
You’re dating, sort of. Not together. You can’t stay the night, you haven’t fucked, and he doesn’t seem to want to yet. It’s still early days.
You aren’t sure if you’d let him fuck you here, but he hasn’t tried. You’d thought the neck kissing was a precursor, felt heat blooming in your chest and somewhere lower as he held your nape. You can imagine it easily from this position, blood rushing to warm your chest, a tizzied kiss of it to match James’ blush. He’d touch you, and you’d let him. He’d push your shirt the rest of the way up and see you clearly. 
“James…” you say softly. 
“What?” 
“Can I ask you something?” 
He strokes your cheek. Your skin stretches gently under his touch, your eye squinting closed. “What sort of something?” he whispers. 
You wanna ask why he won’t fuck you. It would make sense —isn’t that what rivalry is, heated competition with poorly hidden sexual tension? Is that what you and James had?
“I’ve been thinking about something.”
“What sort of something?” he repeats with a laugh. 
“I don’t want to say it out loud.” 
James lets your head rest against the armrest and pillow smushed behind the top of it. He leans down to kiss you, a pulling thing you can’t help following. “Then don’t say it,” he murmurs, his nose dragging up your cheek as your lips part lazily. “Maybe I can guess.” 
“I don’t think you’ll be able to.” 
“You never have any faith in me.” 
You have much more in him as of late. James has yet to let you down. You kissed him and it’s like he refuses to be cruel about it, never letting you worry, eager in his reciprocation. Things are still confusing between you because you’re avoiding a conversation you’re too afraid to start, lest he want something casual. Instead, you’ve let him drag you deeper into his caging. It will hurt twice as much to ask now. 
“It’s stupid,” you say. “Never mind.” 
“It’s not stupid.” 
“No, it was.” You scratch his scalp as you know he adores. “It’s eleven. You can kiss me for at least another half an hour.” 
If he hears the hopefulness in your voice he ignores it. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna keep you up.” 
“Well, only if you want to.” 
“I always want to kiss you, you vexing woman,” he murmurs, shivers lining your arms and spine as his lips part against your cheek. He kisses downwards, sloven, half moon kisses, lightest scratch of his teeth on your neck. “Is it too immature if I leave a mark?” he asks. 
Immature? You have no idea. “I don’t mind what you do, just not above the collar, please.” 
You grow still as he tugs at the neckline of your shirt to expose your chest. It isn’t what you meant, and you’re not about to correct him. 
“Tell me if I…” He looks up at you, smiling nicely. “Just tell me if I take it too far,” he says. “Okay?” 
He plants a kiss over your heart. You hate thinking that he can feel it, hammering, betraying your deep feelings. “Okay,” you breathe.
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girlokwhatever · 6 months ago
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Emily engstler x short fem please please
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emily engstler x short!gf hcs
༯✧ʚɞ°✩₊。⋆˚⁺ೄྀˊˎ- emily with a short gf,,
— she definitely thinks your height is funny
- teases you about it 24/7
— she’ll say stupid shit like “your height doesn’t define you babe” with the most sarcastic tone ever
- she thinks she’s funny
— you’re not just short though, you’re overall a smaller person
- will compare hand sizes and pretend like her hand is gonna eat yours
- also makes fun of how small your shoes are
— if you come over and knock on the door, when she opens it she’ll pretend like she can’t see anyone
- “hello? is anyone there? oh- there you are babe! i couldn’t see you.”
— will hide stuff from you by putting it on the top shelf
— if she hears you in the kitchen she will sit and wait for you to call out for her help reaching something
— “i’m sitting down and i’m as tall as you”
— you both make stupid jokes about the other’s height though
- “how’s the weather up there?”
- “it’s gonna rain in a second.”
- “what does that even mean?”
- “that i’m about to spit on you.”
— likes when you wear her clothes because they literally swallow you whole like….
- her tshirt is your new fav dress
— complains about the back problems she’s gonna get from bending so far down to kiss you
— she’s so protective of you though seriously
- her hands are staying glued on you to make sure she won’t lose you in a crowd
- it’s her biggest fear
— “yeah? what’re you gonna do? punch my knee?”
- “ok whatever.”
— laughs if she sees someone shorter than you
- you don’t know why she thinks it’s so funny
— even though you’re short you still manage to take up 75% of the bed without fail
— literally dies laughing at every. single. short. joke.
— will rest her arms or head on top of your head
— you make her help you cut your jeans or go get them tailored
— it’s difficult to shower together because you have to keep adjusting the shower head to fit your heights
— you made her do the “guess whose outfit is whose” trend….
- you had to cut her out of your shirt
— she’ll let you sit on her shoulders just for fun
- you love it so much
— always giving you kisses on the top of your head though 🤭🤭
— couples yoga is lowkey highkey fun af
— “babe hold on to me, it’s windy outside and i don’t want you flying away.”
— asks if you got your shoes in the kids section..
— she loves it though because you’re such a good cuddle bug
— lowkey you’re at boob height (you don’t mind)
— she’s always asking you to bend down if she dropped something under the bed or some other piece of furniture
- stares at your butt while you do it
— will hold her hand up and ask if you can reach it
- you always need a running start
— sometimes instead of holding her hand you hold one of her fingers
- it’s just easier
— it’s all fun and games until someone she doesn’t know makes a joke about the height
- then it gets all serious
— “baby, is this the mug you said you lost a few months ago?”
- “oh my gosh yes! where’d you find it?!”
- “on the middle shelf..”
๋࣭ ⭑˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚☾༯✧˖°
yall i love the short!gf x tall!gf trope so you know i had to do this
I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!
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emmyrosee · 3 months ago
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Cold breath puffs out past his lips as he picks up the pay phone, slips in a quarter and dials your familiar number. Atsumu rarely calls you on his cellphone anymore, out of fear one of the times he does, you’ll block him clean from your life.
The dial tone hums three times before you show mercy and pick up the phone, interrupting the deafening line. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, smiling softly as your voice, unsuspecting and calm, eases over the line.
“Hello?”
“Hey, baby…”
You’re silent, the only thing giving you away is the way your breathing seems to rag out, rasping softly as it passes through your teeth, a hurt you seem to try to fight back.
“Atsumu?”
The way his throat catches at the sound of his name on your voice has him completely caught off guard; aside from the fact that he hasn’t heard it in months, let alone his actual name on your tongue, just to hear your voice again makes him choke up.
“Yeah. Yeah, hey, it’s me,” he rambles, leaning against the wall of the restaurant he’s calling you at. He closes his jacket tighter around his torso, wondering if it’s warmer in your neck of the woods.
The ones he abandoned you at.
You were familiar. He needed the sense of familiarity as he travels, using you as a means to stay grounded after he abandoned you so promptly. Even right now, this wasn’t meant to destroy you, tear down the walls you’d spent years trying to mend, it was to seek comfort in you- selfish? Perhaps. But he is selfish.
He wished he could be like his brother, content with staying in one place and taking in every day with ease. But Atsumu has never been like his brother, growing far too stir crazy at the mere idea his roots might be planted somewhere, keeping him there for eternity. He doesn’t like feeling trapped, he hates it, even if feeling trapped meant he could be his happiest.
What Atsumu didn’t expect though, was for his roots to be you, the one thing he can’t sever himself from. You’re his drug of choice, his intoxication he can’t get sober from, and fuck, how he craves you.
“I’m… I’m thinking of coming back home.”
“Why?”
The way you snap at him your quick, firm answer makes his skin crawl. He’d been hoping, like a selfish idiot, that you’d somehow be excited for his return, like you had been every time he’d come home: you’d run into his arms like a missing piece, trusting him to catch you as you fall against his chest, your nose would bury into the dip of his neck while he cradles you close, kissing wherever his lips could reach and just for a moment, you both could pretend that this was normal. You’d meant to do this. Be apart for so long it tears you both inside, only for your reunion to be filled with joy and happy tears.
That this was normal, per se.
He thunks his head against the wall, sending a sharp pain through his skull, but he pays it minimal mind as he tries to conjure an argument to not make you hate him more than you already do.
“I want to see you,” he finally confesses. “I… I don’t know when I’m coming home, but it’ll be soon, okay?” He asks. When you say nothing, he closes his eyes, “can I see you?”
“You’re all talk,” you snarl, but he hears the tears in your voice. “You’re not coming home to stay, you’re coming home to get a morsel of attention and praise, then leave me again. I know that.”
He screws his eyes shut as you so clearly, so hurt, list the events that repeat every time he comes home. He wants to blame his success, chasing a high he can’t seem to find anymore, but he can. It’s a high with you, a thrill he gets when he sees your eyes glimmer with excited tears, an unparalleled sense of peace when you’re in his arms, one no person, place, or thing has been able to come close to.
But you… you were different. He loves you.
And Atsumu Miya is a runner.
“You should just keep playing house with one of your little friends that you make on the road,” you laugh cruelly. “Since they’re able to keep you much, much happier than I’ve ever been able to, clearly.”
“Hey, you wanna play the bigger person here? I never do shit with anyone when I’m out on the road, I’m loyal to you, okay?”
“My. Hero,” you spit from your gritted teeth. “You want a medal for doing below the bare minimum? Leaving me for months on end and coming back when you see fit, only to tell me you ‘stay loyal?’ You’re not loyal. You’re a coward.”
His heart breaks.
Coward. That’s what he is. He’s a coward, running from a life of comfort and stability to chase a high that he can only get in his dreams, a high that does not exist.
The closest he has, is you. And you don’t want him anymore. Rightfully so, Atsumu will give you that. But the idea, the mere concept of you not wanting him anymore sends him into a panic.
No, he thinks to himself, you’re bluffing, you’re all talk too, and the second you see him, your reserve will crumble and your heart will soften and you’ll love him again. You’ll plead for him to stay, to be with you forever, because you can make this work together.
He hopes that this time, he’ll love you enough to stay, too. He doesn’t bet on it, and the idea stings his eyes with tears. He screws them shut in agony. His root will only be severed when you do it. He hopes you do it mercifully. He hopes you’ll do it this time he comes home, setting you both free from the dance you’ve entangled yourselves in.
“I… I know im all talk,” he chokes, leaning his forehead against the brick of the wall he’s talking against. “But I… I know that we’ll be together soon. I’ll come home, and we’ll work it out this time. I swear.”
He sinks his teeth into his lip to try and fight back the sob that wants to break through. You hang up the phone, leaving only the dial tone to ring in his ear.
He smiles despite the tears welling in his eyes.
“I can’t wait until then.”
-
@reverie-starlight heres that angst I was teasing… 😬
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hurlingdown · 4 months ago
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HUNGRY WORK — TOP MALE READER X RORONOA ZORO
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synopsis. these days, making love to zoro feels different. it always leaves a part of you so complex and insatiable, like you're always hungry for more. or: you come into terms with the raw hunger that has wormed itself into your every living thought. wc. 2.1k
tags. sub! zoro, dom! reader. religious sex, porn with feelings, by that i mean so so much feelings, body worship, metaphorical womb-fucking, breeding kink, mentions of vore, unhinged religious dirty talk lol. title taken from a hozier song.
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There are many shapes that want can take form in. For you, there’s only one. 
Zoro lies underneath you, basking in the glow of the tender sunrays, stretching lazily like a cat. The corners of his lips are lifted, and there’s something quietly smug about the way he’s looking at you, watching as you sit back on your haunches and roll your hips against him. 
“Mmm. Feels good.” 
“Yeah?” you whisper. You didn’t mean for it to come out like a whisper, but it just did. The sight of him so sweetly unfurled by your touch, the way he would part his thighs a little more without having you coax them apart, being so comfortably unguarded around you, so carelessly vulnerable. It left you breathless. 
“Yeah,” he says. His lidded gaze never leaves you, not even once, silently waiting. For what, you think, is the question. A flip of the coin could bring about maelstrom and thunder and Zoro—Zoro would follow. It was the fun part of him, in the thick of all the pieces you want to consume within you: keep him inside, away from the rest of the world, in a picture of a locket hung on a throbbing heart. 
You wish it were that easy. 
“Something’s—mm.” He parts his lips to let out a soft, guttural moan as the tip of your cock crushes against his sweet spot. “Something’s on your mind.” 
It was always, always like that. The way he reads you as though he were deciphering text, and the funny thing about all of it was that Zoro does not read, but he reads you still. You feel your heart squeeze at his small, concerned frown, dark grey turning silver under shallow light. 
You want to crawl into him, or swallow him whole, it doesn’t matter. You would resort to begging if you could, you would drain the sea and burn every gritty bit of this vile world into cinder and offer him its remains in the shape of a heart on a platter, if you could. 
Death was far too light of a promise. 
“It’s alright,” you tell him, because you’re not alright, but it doesn’t matter. 
He gives you a look, one that tells you to try harder, not convinced. His hands skid up your forearms, resting in the crook of your elbow, thumbs pressing into the tender meat there. Then he takes one and guides it to palm the sharp jowl of his cheek, and nestles his face into it. 
You seize a shaky breath. You're not sure why it happens at first, but it does.
“Move,” he murmurs, nudging his hips against the base of your cock, as though he doesn’t see the way your eyes burn with the water of tears, doesn’t feel the stutter of your heart in the way his lips press into your pulse. 
“No. You don’t,” you choke, throat tightening, “you don’t understand.” 
Do I have to? is what you think he would say, but he doesn’t, only sighs. 
“You don’t know how I feel about you,” you say, feeling oddly defensive. “You’d feel sick to your stomach if you did.” 
His eyelid flutters close until there you can barely, barely see the tint of grey beneath, unwilling to acknowledge you, but he’s listening. 
“You would hate me,” you continue, almost rambling at this point, baffled as to why it feels so hard to breathe all of a sudden, like you’re drowning in your own false words. “Sure, you would pretend not to, because you’re good at that stuff, and I’m not. You would pretend to love me. You wouldn’t even mention it to the crew—and—and everything’s going to be fine, but in reality it wouldn’t be because you’d hate me.” 
You want him to see you. Both sides of you. The one he fell in love with—the sinless, pristine one on the surface; and the one who wanted to carve yourself into him, take him apart and devour him wholly. 
Zoro’s quiet, and you’re seized with a sudden fear that maybe he did fall asleep, and you were talking your heart bare to nobody. But then he opens his good eye, and there’s almost nothing, nothing within, except for a warmth so potent and all-consuming, so tender and selfless, that it sends sweet bile rising in your throat, makes you want to kiss and take and love so much, all because he is willing. 
The words come out all wrong. 
“I can’t stay,” you tell him, weakly. “Not if it’s like this.” Not if it feels as though I’m hiding myself from you, constantly, always. I want you to love me. The whole of me. Please. 
There’s too little to fill the silence, each moment pressing new bruises into skin, branding a new kind of ache into you. “Say something. Zoro.” You’re desperate, even for a goodbye. A profanity. Anything.
It takes him a while to respond. But then all he says is, low and unwavering, as though none of this is affecting him, none of this matters to him as it does to you—
“I won’t keep you if you leave.” 
The words sink in for half a second, before your eyes snap to his—in hurt, bewilderment, both, you don’t know. You suppose you are deserving of his harsh words, but it still tears into you like a jagged, unsharpened blade, an ugly tool only meant for breaking. You prepare yourself for the next. 
“—but I want to.” 
It drowns you like a tidal wave. 
You would’ve thought you were dreaming, if not for the tightening of his fingers wound around your wrist, as though to forbid themselves from trembling. A strong, firm grip, heavy warmth oozing from underneath. Zoro’s hands have always been the steadiest part of him, if not his heart. 
“Do you understand?” he asks, almost pleading, and the sound trickles into every crook of your soul. 
“Okay,” you whisper. You find that you can breathe, finally. “Okay.” 
“I won’t keep you,” he continues, “because you are free. I don’t own you. But I want to. Gods, I want to.” 
Zoro does not believe in god, but he will pray to a religion of your name. 
You sink your teeth into your lower lip, stifling any noise, but your vision blurs and all of a sudden there’s wetness spilling down your cheeks and dribbling onto the face of your lover. You wipe them away with your thumb, sucking in a wobbly breath, but they keep coming and coming, trying to submerge you in a sea where everything will drown. 
“Fuck—shit, ’m sorry. Give me a sec.” 
It's no longer fresh pain, but to have him here, his touch surrounding you, telling you that what you feel for him—this carnal hunger that has wormed its way into your every living thought—is the truth, is the surviving, that you aren’t insane, and it makes you ache so impossibly sweet. Because he wants you too, wants to own you in a way that he knows he shouldn’t, can’t. It grounds you to reality. 
You feel his hand on your cheek, a soundless comfort in return, and you lean against it. 
But then all of a sudden, in a twist of events far too brisk for your liking, there’s a sharp glint to his smile, and he coos in a disgusting voice, “Aww, crybaby,” because of course he would. Frustrated, you snap up and thrust your hips against him, and he yelps, letting go of your face to fist the sheets, surprised. 
This is the fun part of Zoro, you recall. Always. Maelstrom and thunder. 
“You’re a bastard,” you hiss. “We were having a moment!” 
“Were we?” He tosses you a dirty smirk, legs locking around your waist so casually and innately that makes something inside you churn. “You were the one, ah, fucking into me so suddenly, if I recall.” 
He has no cover, as usual, vulgar and to the point, and you begin to think that somewhere within him dwells a part as hideous and self-seeking as yours. 
“I don’t plan on stopping,” you mutter, fingers pressing bruises into his hips as you ram back into his hole. “Zoro. I want—I want to do so many things to you. With you. You have no idea.” 
The drop in tone makes his demeanour shift. Slightly, but you see it. These things do not escape you easily.
“I know,” is his breathless reply. “Please.” 
“I want you so much it drives me mad,” you breathe, “I don’t just—want this, and I am happy if this is all you want to give, but I want all of you. Every inch. Every scar. I want to read your body like a book. The insides and the outsides. All of it.” 
He lets out a soft almost-whine at your words, head tilting to the side to expose his neck. “Please,” he repeats, with a little more meaning. 
“I want to—to break you apart and seal you back together because that would mean I created you. This version of you, not some dirty god out there, not some nameless devil. Zoro, do you understand? Zoro.” 
“Yeah,” he pants. “Yeah, please. Do it. I want it.” 
“I want to carve you, bone and marrow. I want to make your womb swollen with me, they're gonna think someone's knocked you up. Make you all mine. Fuck, I want to eat you,” you groan, “want it so much I think about it every day—want to bite you, sink my teeth into you, drink in your blood.” 
Zoro’s pupils are blown wide with lust, and he clenches around you, gasping. “Fuck. Yeah, do whatever you want, I want it all, so please, already—” 
That’s his answer enough, and you bend down to kiss his exposed neck, nipping and biting carelessly, leaving a trail of raw purple wherever your teeth go. You pound into him harder, and he moans, snaking a hand to grip the back of your head, pressing you against him, as though you weren’t close enough, still. 
“You’re so beautiful,” you whisper, and it feels like a truth’s been pulled out from you. “So divine. I want to ruin you.” 
Zoro shudders in your arms, and he gives a shaky nod, strong arms compressing you from above, keeping his thundering chest pressed to yours. “Ruin me,” he rasps, “and leave a scar, so everyone would know you did it.” 
Then he’s seizing a sharp breath, pulling you into a kiss as sweet moans needier than the last spill into your mouth like sour wine, and you vaguely hear the wet splatter of his come against skin before his hole grips you wickedly tight.  
How ironic.
These are the words that you last register when you finally spill out all of your sin into him, and he locks up around you tight to keep it all inside his filthy, tarnished womb, and it takes you straight to heaven. 
You cry out in pleasure, or maybe it’s him who does. Holy light pours into you from above, and you part your lips to drink in it. 
It might have taken a minute, or two—maybe more, but you feel so blissed out and high that it takes you a moment to notice that you’re almost sinking, all the strength leaving your body. You realise that the thing beneath you is the only thing that belongs to you. It is solid, and warm, and you hold it to your chest to feel it breathe. 
“Y’okay?” your thing asks you between heavy breaths, and you shake your head, far too dizzy. 
There’s a low chuckle, one that resonates in the entirety of it. And as the vibrations seep into you wave by wave, tremor after tremor, there’s a slow, heavy bubbling in your chest. It begins in small fizzes, like the ones that froth when billows collide, but then it starts to grow larger, and larger, like hot, gurgling lava in the midst of a volcano. It feels tight, hard to breathe, almost. 
“Zoro?” you ask, unsure, and the hand on the nape of your neck squeezes. 
“I’m here,” he answers, tiredly. Always here. 
“I feel weird," you tell him, truthfully.
“Is it a good kind of weird?” 
You take a second to think, that he must be right. “... yeah. Maybe.” 
“Then it’s fine,” he sighs, arms wounding around your shoulders to shift your weight to the side. “You deserve to feel good.” 
He presses the side of your face to his chest, your ear right above his heart, before slowly drifting into slumber. 
The bubbling within you simmers, gradually, over time, and you close your eyes. You deserve to feel good, his words echo in the dark. 
It hits you, the belated apprehension, that this—whatever you’re feeling—is happiness. 
It breathes life into you.  masterlist! # feeding the zoro lovers. repost of my old work btw - fav thing i've ever written for him so far. zoro canonically has a complicated relationship with god and religion so it was fun to explore how he views religion in carnal desire
now all i need is to write something filthy for his asura form
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pappydaddy · 4 months ago
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made for loving you (s.h.)
a/n: we are just pretending that they had the ability to remotely check their voicemail systems in 1985, okay lovelies? awesome!
tv show/movie: stranger things | pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
requested by the lovely @echos-scomplink (ily lovely!)
synopsis: steve fears his chance with y/n is ruined leading to breathless proclamations in the rain. based on i was made for loving you by kiss.
taglist: @the-weeping-author | @lilypad-55449 | @popeheywardssecretgf | @smarie7547 | @eichenhouseproperty | @slytherinambitious | @k-k0129 | @ihatepeanutss | @moralina |  @poppet05 | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn |  @lexi-2004 |@i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo |  @savagemickey03 *line through your user means i could not tag you lovelies!
warnings: depictions of being beat up | blood mentioned | fluff
navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up
____
  King Steve never believed in the whole soulmate idea. He found it certifiably insane for someone to think that someone was made specifically for one person, it was baffling to him. Not only did the idea of commitment send a shockwave akin to the eight-point-zero magnitude earthquake through his body, but the idea of committing to one person blew his feeble little mind. How could someone become so in love with one person? Was it just that it is actually just socially acceptable to have affairs and simply never talk about it? He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t comprehend the rhotic lacing romance novels and movies. How could someone be so obsessed with someone that they devote their whole life to this one person? How could someone be so obsessed with someone that can be happy spending their whole life around someone? Because, certainly, his parents are not happy spending their whole lives together.
  It all fell into place like puzzle pieces in the Summer 1985 when he first laid eyes on Y/N L/N. She worked in the Ladies’ Speciality store on the same floor as Scoops Ahoy. He would see her going to the food court, passing by the Parlour on her way to her shift or leaving for the day. He hadn’t even talked to her and he was infatuated. Not a word was spoken to him from her lips and he was being driven mad by the thought. It wasn’t until Y/N came in to get some ice cream with Robin (the two forming a friendship from working so close together) on her day off before they headed to the community pool that he spoke his first words to her. 
  From there, he was entranced. It all made sense to him. Every poem ever written about the obsession of love. Every line of literature that oozed with the sense of pining. He knew that he was made solely for her. To love her. To hold her. To simply be with her. It was his higher purpose. His calling. He was simply there to be hers. Despite his fumbling attempts at talking to her, Y/N found his dorkiness endearing enough to take a chance on him by making the first move - asking him to call her.  
  Unfortunately, that’s as far as Steve got before getting trapped in a storage room and plummeting into a Russian Underground Base. Her phone number in his passenger seat and the suggestive words of a date hanging in the air of his car from where she uttered them two nights ago. If he hadn’t been trapped and, consequently, kidnapped by Russians, there would be no way in hell Y/N would be at the Fourth of July party with some jock who didn’t even know her favourite ice cream flavour. 
  “I’m sorry,” Steve blinked, a dumb look on his face as he looked at Robin. Robin cocked her head to the side with a roll of her eyes, waiting for Steve to speak as she still held the payphone receiver in the air. “I must have heard you wrong,” He continued, speaking with a chuckle, hoping she was wrong. “‘Cause it sounded like you said that Y/N left you a voicemail saying she was going out on a date tonight-”
  “It’s ‘cause of the giant flesh spider running rampant through Hawkins, isn’t it?” Dustin nodded as if he understood why Steve was so pale after hearing this news. Baffled, Steve and Robin both looked at him as he stood there, sweat staining through his graphic shirt. 
  Opening and closing his mouth like a fish, Steve shot a panicked look between Dustin and Robin. The three of them were off to the side, away from the rest of the scheming groups as Robin checked her voicemail, hoping to hear anything from Y/N to make sure she was okay. “No,” Steve nearly yelled, his voice impossibly high. “Well, now I’m worried about that.” 
  Robin, finally hanging up the phone, sighed. “She said he was taking her to the carnival,” Dread filled Steve. Obviously, Robin noticed since she continued on. “According to Hopper and Joyce, the carnival was untouched by the giant flesh spider-” She gave Dustin a pointed look for wording it that way. “And if this flesh spider is looking for this El girl, Y/N should be safe.” 
  “Again, not what I’m worried about,” Steve stressed, a hand coming up to run through his matted and grimy hair. Blood, sweat, and product weighed his normally fluffy hair down. “I’m more concerned about the fact that she’s out on a date with another guy because I was just trapped in a Russian Base for like three days!”
  Dustin scoffed, causing Steve’s eyes to point angrily at him. “Calm down, Drama Queen. It was like 48 hours,” Dustin looked between Steve and Robin, shrinking slightly as he took in the context of the situation. “Which clearly felt like three days and jeopardised Steve’s chances with Y/N. I can clearly see that now.” 
  Silence enclosed around the three as they stood there. Robin ran the voicemail over in her head, trying to decipher how her new friend felt about this date knowing her feelings for the floppy haired new graduate that currently stood across from her. Dustin, trying to gauge the situation, looked between Robin and Steve before slowly starting to back up in an attempt to remove himself. 
  Steve. Steve was a ball of anxiety. So much so that this made Robin realise that Steve had actually changed. King Steve wouldn’t have cared. King Steve would have just shrugged it off and went off to find his new conquest. She could actually see the doubts and insecurities bubbling to the surface of his mind. “Wow. Nancy Wheeler ruined you, didn’t she?” Robin whispered, but she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure that the words met Steve’s ears. His mind seemed to be screaming too loud for him to hear anything else. 
  “I should’ve just manned up and asked her out,” Steve was beating himself up. Literally. Robin watched, a look of pure shock and bafflement on her freckled face, as he beat a closed fist into an opened hand. Just enough for his already swollen, bruised, and cut face to wince but not enough for it to attract anyone’s attention. “Now, she’s probably having the time of her life with this quarterback who will get a full ride to the University of Alabama or something-” He muttered to himself, the punches continuing, concerning Robin slightly. 
  “Woah, woah, woah,” Robin’s voice cracked slightly as she lunged forward. Gently, her hands grasped Steve’s wrists, keeping him from hitting his hand again. Steve, eyes watering in sheer insecurity, looked at her. Her heart broke for both her new found friends. She knew Y/N wasn’t having the time of her life. A, she hated stereotypical jocks and, if memory serves Robin right, this guy was the quintessential quarterback. B, she wasn’t with Steve - her long-standing crush. Something she admitted to Robin drunkenly. “Go to her.” 
  “What?” Steve’s voice was wobbly. It was soft. 
  “Go to her, Steve. You remember where she lives, you dropped her off that one time when her car wouldn’t start,” She started to explain. “Go to her, tell her how you feel. Lay it all at her feet.” 
  “W-what about everyone else?” He stammered, wide eyes looking towards the cluster of people. Robin waved her hand dismissively, making him look back at her. Her blue eyes were so confident and sure. They were compelling him to listen to her. Confirming that everything will be okay if he just listened to her. 
  They stared at each other, locked in a kind of communication only people destined to be best friends could achieve. “We can survive. We will survive.” She urged him despite the fact that she didn’t believe those words one bit. Swallowing thickly, Steve slowly nodded. Brown eyes casting over the cluster of people. Some he fought side-by-side with for the past two years, some who just joined the battle. They were all probably more capable than Steve at everything. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 
  Squaring his shoulders, he stood to his full height. “I’m going,” He spoke with a firm nod. The kind of nod that sealed some of the best and worst plans in history. “I’m going to her.” Just as the rubber sole of his converse slapped the pristine tile as he started to move towards the exit, unsure of how he’s going to get to Y/N’s place with no car, Hopper’s sharp whistle of his lips stopped him. 
  Seeing a Walkie-Talkie flying through the air, landing right in the scrambling hands of a nervous Dustin, disappointment and dread filled him. He wasn’t going to be able to slip away that easily. He barely listened as Hopper, Dustin, and Erica bickered about how it was best for them to communicate, hoping that whatever the solution was could spare him. His body buzzed with the need to tell Y/N everything. The need to bare his soul to her. The need to be near her - nay. To be hers. 
  The jingle of keys brought him from his locked in zone, letting him catch the keys Hopper was throwing him in time. “Steve’s in charge.” Those words weighted Steve’s soul down to the depths of the bowls of Hell for he knew this night was far from over. 
  “Come on,” Steve gruffed, his drive zeroing in. His sole focus was simply on beating this shit for another time and getting to Y/N as fast as he could. “Let’s kill these bastards.” 
____
  By the time it all fell silent again, rain was pelting down. Once the paramedic’s gave Steve the okay to leave and the firefighters were able to retrieve one of his keys from the Scoops backroom (thank god for cold rooms), he didn’t waste any time speeding off. He knew he should probably change his clothes from something that bore his blood, sweat, and tears, but he simply couldn’t waste another moment. That’s how, after a bout of reckless driving and a few near-misses, Steve was parking on the street, peering into the darkened driveway of Y/N L/N’s house. 
  A moment of hesitation fluttered through him. One thought was about the possibility of her not being home. The other one being the very likely possibility of her being asleep given the late hour. Another thought was about her parents not appreciating a beaten and bloody person professing their love for their daughter. However, a warm glow emitting from an upstairs window and her car being the only one parked in the driveway reassured him enough for him to muster the courage back up to get out of the car. 
  “You just survived two days in a Russian base and an interdimensional creature made of human flesh. You can do this.” He breathed, pumping himself up. Shaking his limbs out, his eyes zeroed in on the front door of her house. Just like a magnet, his body started to be pulled towards her, almost as if it were sure that it was meant to be around her. With a determination greater than the determination he felt to get out of the Russian base, he started to move quicker up her driveway until he was practically running up the rather long driveway, rain pelting his shirt and hair. 
  Standing there, his chest heaved as his back tingled with a mix of excitement and nerves. Before his consciousness could catch up, his finger was jabbing the doorbell repeatedly - much to his own horror. Despite not wanting to continuously ring the doorbell, his finger couldn’t seem to leave it alone until she pulled the door open. It was like his eyes were desperate to see her and his body was doing everything in its power to do just that. 
  “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Even with the muffled voice barely making it through the wooden front door and the sound of socked feet rushing down the stairs, his finger never ceased to stop pushing the doorbell. Part of him hoped that if the Jock did accompany her back to her place, his incessant doorbell ringing was annoying him. The large majority of him, however, was mortified that he couldn’t seem to stop ringing the damn doorbell. Suddenly, the door was pulled open, the burst of air from the movement making her hair wisp back from her face perfectly and Steve was stunned into a stupor, finger pressing on the button. 
  “Steve,” A look of shock crossed her face before it deepened once she caught the sight of his face in the glow of the entryway light. “Oh, my god, Steve!” She breathed out, concern lacing her voice as her hand came up to delicately cover her mouth as she took in his nearly swollen shut eye. 
  He couldn’t muster up any words. Hell, he couldn’t even take his finger off the doorbell. Hesitantly, Y/N reached out. He wasn’t sure if she was scared of him or scared to hurt him, but once her slightly cold fingers met the wet skin of his wrist, he blinked out of the trace he had been lulled into. “I needed to come see you,” His voice was much more hoarse than what it had been earlier. His throat was dry from the lack of water, but his body was becoming more and more exhausted as the seconds ticked by, but he felt energy shooting through him now that he stood in her presence. “Robin told me about your date with the Jock tonight and I couldn’t lose you just because I was kidnapped by Russians for two days.” 
  “You were what,” Y/N blinked, expression dropping from shocked to horrified. “Steve! You need to go to the hospital or the police station! Not to my house! This is serious-” She started fretting, her hands coming up, looking like they were going to lay on his face. His skin tingled in anticipation of her touch on him and his chest heaved as he tried to control his breathing, his eyes darkening, but her hands stilled halfway there. “Does it hurt?” She breathed, hands slightly shaking as her own adrenaline coursed through her.
  Steve, with another surge of confidence, reached his own hands out to grab her wrists gently. Suddenly, as his fingers wrapped around the softness of her skin, he was all too aware that he hadn’t had a shower in two days and probably smelled horrible. On top of it, he was very much aware of the level of grime on his skin. But Y/N didn’t seem to care as her wrists seemed to sink into his hands, relief washing over her at the feel of his touch. “I’m fine. I got checked over by the paramedics, the Feds were there. I am fine,” He reassured her, noting the worry that still swam within the depths of her eyes. “But I needed to come see you. I would have ran here the second I escaped, but I was stopped.” 
  “Probably the paramedics stopped you because you were kidnapped, Steve,” She blinked and in a split second, guilt consumed him for not being able to tell her more. He was sure he would eventually tell her everything, but he didn’t want to scare her off. “But why did you need to see me so badly, you must be exhausted.” She furrowed her eyebrows, eyes flicking over his face. 
  “I needed to tell you how I feel, Y/N. Hearing that you were out with the Jock tonight, I-” He cut himself off, his throat swelling with emotion. “I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t lose the person I was made for,” His words were like drops of blood dripping from his bleeding heart. “I can’t get enough of you, Y/N. I need to be around you and I’ve never understood the concept of soulmates until I saw you,” Shock crashed against Y/N like a tidal wave. Staring at the beaten and bruised boy, she could only manage to blink her eyes slowly as his words bleed with passion. “Y/N, there is no doubt in my mind that I was made solely to love you.” 
  Those words hung in the air like an anvil ready to squash Steve as his eyes burned into her shell-shocked ones. Her mouth hung open slightly as he could see her brain processing the words her ears just heard. Suddenly, she snapped back to reality, her jaw softly closing as she stood up, eyes as soft as a plush bed - making Steve want to lay within them for the rest of his life. “Oh Steve,” She breathed out, seemingly overwhelmed with the proclamation. Steve’s heart lurched, the anvil dropping an inch. An equally as soft smile as her eyes graced her lips, but it did little to ease Steve’s anxiety. “I thought you were never going to make a move. I thought you didn’t like me like that-” 
  Her words were cut off as Steve grabbed her face in his blood stained and, truthfully, grimy hands. In one motion, his lips nearly jumped on hers, kicking off a feverish kiss. His lips moved against her stunned ones as if she were the water he was so deprived of for two days. As if she were the thing he was derived from for so long. As if she were the air he needed in order to live. 
  He could feel the gentle touch of her fingertips ever so lightly touching his forearms as her lips seemed to match his speed, her body coming to life after falling into the shock of the sudden kiss. Goosebumps marked the trail of her fingertips as they made their way up to his hands. Soon, the warmth of her hands rested over his, just sitting there. Almost as if she was using them to tell if this was real or just a dream. Steve was worried about the same thing but the coldness of the pouring rain hitting his back as the wind blew it under the cover of her porch told him it was all reality.
  Their lungs ached, Steve’s bruised ribs pulsed from his lungs beating against them, begging for air, not realising the lips he was attached to were (in fact) his air. Their chests swelled with warmth, both from their hearts becoming electrified with love and from the burning of their chests screaming from the lack of air. Lips became feverish in desperation as they both realised that, soon, they would have to pull away. Steve hated himself as he reluctantly pulled his lips back ever so slightly, just enough for both of them to suck in air, chests heaving - panting as if they had just ran a marathon. 
  Neither of them opened their eyes, feeling the laboured puffs of breath against their swollen lips as shockwaves of tingles shot through their bodies as if they were still kissing. “Nope,” Steve shook his head. “Not enough yet.” Y/N’s eyes fluttered open out of an act of confusion just in time for Steve’s lips to pounce back onto hers, this time her feet stumbling back from the force, his body crashing flush against hers. A squeak left her lips as she felt like she was going to fall backwards but his hands immediately left her cheeks, flying to her waist to pull her against him even more. 
  “Steve-” She pulled her mouth back slightly, words muffled by his lips still, but the risk of biting either of their tongues lowered, but he shushed her, ready to let his lungs explode if that meant he could keep kissing her. “Steve-” She tried again with a giggle, hands coming up to his chest to hold him back slightly. Finally opening their eyes, Y/N was stunned for a moment as she saw Steve. His lip now swollen, the cut on his lip re-opened and bleeding slightly. His eyes (or the eye that wasn’t swollen shut) nearly blown out as if he were high. Regaining her thoughts, she cocked her head to the side, eyes softening from the heated pools they were seconds ago. “Do you need a place to stay tonight?” She asked, having only caught enough information about his home life to know his parents were barely around and when they were, they barely met the standards of parents, let alone supportive and kind parents.
  Suddenly, and if Steve wasn’t already sure, he knew he had finally found the place in the world he was looking for. He found the purpose of his life. He found the thing he would live and breathe. He found the thing he would even die for. “Actually, yeah.” He said almost sheepishly, realising his house key was on the set of keys the Russians took from him and his parents were away (shockingly). He felt scared, worried that she would think he came here and professed false feelings just so that he could have a place to sleep for the night. 
  His worries were eased with that soft smile slipping upon her swollen lips as she stepped back, Steve’s hands reluctantly letting go of her waist. “Come on in. I’ll even let you shower and sleep in my bed.” She winked, a giggle gracing the dimly lit entryway as she backed up, Steve following immediately - almost like she was luring him into a trance like state just with her beauty. In that moment, he knew he would never get enough of her and he will live everyday trying to give his everything to her.
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doitforbangchan · 5 months ago
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All Bark and No Bite - 19
oops i couldn’t wait for the weekend 😅 happy 4th of july to my fellow american homies 🫡🫡
Masterlist /Series masterlist
Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8
ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe
Previous - Next
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Chapter warnings: Afab/fem reader, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f + m), kissing, Dom!Chan, Dom!Minho, Dom!Seungmin, Sub!reader, subspace, threesome (m/f/m), Double penetration (mouth and Vagina), 2min being absolute deviants, face smacking, choking, crying (a TON), Dacryphilia, voyeurism, spanking, sir kink, dirty talk, pet names, spit, cum eating, fluff, angst, cursing, violence, blood, threats, broken bones, (sorry to all the wooyoung stans- this hurt me to write), Chan is not a good guy here but he’s hot so 🫠🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️
WC: 10.2k
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Sun beams streamed into the room, the early morning light dancing across your lids as you woke up. You groggily creaked your eyes open then instinctually reached your hand over to find your alpha- though you found the spot empty. Chan's side of the bed was cold, he had to have been up for far longer than you.
Click 
Clack
Click
 There was a quiet clicking sound that filled the room. It was the first thing you really took notice of as you came to your wits.You rubbed your eyes and lightly lifted your head up. In the corner of the room at his laptop sat Chan. He was still in his underwear that he wore to bed and he was typing away at the keyboard in front of him. He hadn’t noticed that you had awoken yet, so you observed him for a few minutes. His brow was furrowed and he kissed his teeth. 
The alpha typed away for a few more minutes, then he sighed in frustration and threw his head back. It was at that moment he noticed you were awake, looking at him with sleepy eyes. He smiled at you with a tender look. “Good morning, gorgeous.”  
“Mmph. Morning Channie. What are you doin?” You swung your legs over the side of the bed and reached your arms up in a stretch. 
He sighed again and turned back around to his computer. “Just some work that couldn’t wait until after the weekend.” He wouldn’t tell you that he had gotten up early to do some digging on Wooyoung and had gotten fed up when he didn’t find anything of note then checked his work emails. “There's a buyer who wants to see a huge property a town over.” 
You padded slowly over to your alpha and draped yourself over his shoulders, nuzzling your face into his neck. “That must be exciting for the company.” 
“Mmhm, it’s a really expensive piece of land. The buyer wants to get this deal done asap and is sending me over there tomorrow to meet with them. On a fucking sunday.” He huffed and rolled his eyes.
 You could feel his frustration radiating out of him so you brought a hand up to his head and ran your fingers through his curls, trying to comfort him. You felt him physically relax and you let out a gentle purr. “M’ sorry alpha. You work so hard for your company, you deserve some time off.” 
He snorted, “Yeah like that’s going to happen anytime soon. I’ve already taken too much time off the last few weeks thanks to a certain someone.” He playfully kisses your arm that was wrapped around him then leans into you. “My old man understands how important bonding with an omega is so he’s been lenient but since I’m the one that's going to take over the business I have to make sacrifices sometimes. Being able to provide a comfortable life for you and the pack makes it all worth it though.” 
“You’re a good man, Chan.” You kissed his neck again, your scent sweetening with your pure love for him. The smell was so heavenly it made his eyes almost roll into the back of his head. “I am so lucky to have the most perfect Alpha as my mate.” 
Chan tried to hide his bashfulness and the dusting of pink that appeared on his cheeks by turning his head but you managed to catch a peek anyways. You giggled and reached a hand to pinch his cheek. He shook his head and laughed along with you. “Don’t tease me! And don’t pretend you're not the perfect one, my little omega.” He turned and gave you a kiss on your lips this time and hummed. “I do have to get back to this for now though my love. Not much longer.” 
“Anything I can do to help?” You stood but kept your hands on his shoulders, massaging them lightly. 
He turned back to look at you with a smirk and his eyes shining with mischievous intent, “Wellll there's one thing I can think of…” 
“Hmm,” You hummed wearily, “what’s that Channie?” 
“Cockwarm me while I work.” 
You choked on your air intake. That is certainly not what you had in mind. “You- you want me to do what?” 
He patted his lap cheekily, making you look down to notice his member hardening in his boxers. “Come on pretty omega, take a seat on alphas dick and keep me company. That would really help me get some work done.” His grin was teasing as if daring you to do as he asked, as if you truly had an option. 
You licked your lips as you felt your panties dampen instinctually. You weren’t naive enough to think it would help him that much or that his intentions were pure but you also weren’t going to deny your alpha anything he desired- which right now was you.  
Your hands fell from his shoulders as you circled around to the front of his chair. You held eye contact with him when you crouched down in front of him and reached for the hem of his underwear. His gaze was sharp as he took in your every miniscule movement,brown orbs  already dilating like a beast of prey. Your breath was shaky when you hooked your pointer fingers into the hem and slowly pulled them down his thighs until his hard length sprang out and slapped against his stomach.  
You stood up again and this time pulled your own panties down, letting them fall to the floor as you stepped out of them. Chan licked his teeth and patted his lap once again. “Your throne, my queen.” 
That made you huff a laugh and eased your nerves a little. 
“You’re a dork.” 
 Bracing your hands on his shoulders you positioned yourself to be straddling his lap and he helped you line yourself up. With a deep breath to prepare for the stretch, you sank down onto him and engulfed him completely. Your eyes screwed shut and you let out a whimpering moan. Chan sighed blissfully when you were fully seated, his strong arms pulling you into his chest. 
“Thata girl.” 
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and gave him a small grind. He held back a moan, instead tutting at you. “Uh uh baby, just sit still f’ me and keep me warm.” 
Settling into a good position the both of you let out a content sigh. You kept your head buried into the crook of his neck while he let go of you and went back to his laptop. You closed your eyes and relaxed into him, trying to pass the time with a nap. The both of you managed to sit like that for about a half hour. You did your best to focus on napping but you were beginning to get needier and needier. Chan was doing a good job at keeping a poker face and typing away as if you weren’t clenching and leaking all over his dick. 
Your thighs started to burn from the position you were stuck in so you tried to subtly adjust to relieve some tension, but the movement made you push him deeper into you. You let out a quiet moan when you felt him twitch inside of you and couldn’t help but shift your hips, making your walls drag against him which caused him to moan in return. 
“F-fuck baby, can’t go moving your hips like that.” 
“M sorry, you just feel so good.” You whined in his ear. You could feel your slick dripping out of you and onto Chan's dick,“S’deep in me, feels so good alpha.” 
He let out a growl at your words, his resolve quickly crumbling. “Feelin’ needy now, baby? Can’t even sit here and be good, you need your alpha to take care of you?” 
You nodded rapidly, clenching around him tightly at his words. “Uh huh. I tried to be good for you Alpha. I sat here as long as I could.” 
“Well it’s a good thing I’ve just answered my last email then huh?” 
With no warning the man beneath you lifted his hips to buck into you, making your back arch as you moaned. “Nnnnghh alpha!” 
“Hold on to me baby.” 
You did as you were told, tightening your hold on his shoulders. When he felt that, Chan put his hands under your spread thighs and gripped the meat there. He used his strength to lift your body up then brought you down again. You felt every ridge and vein of his cock rub against your walls, making you whine and throw your head back. 
Chan used your body as if it was his own personal fleshlight, lifting you up and down over and over again. His panting in your ear sent shivers down your spine. The alpha relished in the feeling of your slick dripping out of you and falling down to his thighs, the sloshing making him want to pound into you even harder. Your little breathy ‘ah’s filled the room along with the sounds of your ever accumulating slick.
“Fucking hell omega, you’re taking me so well. Nice and tight and so fucking wet. Is that slick all f’ me?” You were too caught up in the pleasure, not registering that he had asked you a question. The alpha halted his movements, making you let out a desperate whine that turned to a cry when he laid a sharp slap against your butt. After he smacked it he grabbed a handful of the tender flesh and squeezed. “I expect an answer when I ask you a question.” 
“Yes yes! M’ so wet for my alpha.” You began to cry as you tried to bounce on his dick but he kept you stationary. He gave your ass another hard slap, this time groaning when he felt you clench down on him even as you hissed from the pain. “Please alpha, need to move, need to cum please.” 
He hummed in thought as if weighing his options. You couldn’t stop your squirming as you tried to gain more friction but his hold on you was too tight. Just when you were about to cry again he delivered one more stinging strike to your skin, then roughly fucked up into you and resumed his previous pace. 
Your nails were clawing into his bare shoulders as you felt your high approaching quickly. You started nibbling on his neck hoping to stimulate the man even more than he already was and it seemed like your efforts were not in vain. 
“Fuck omega, I’m getting so close, need to feel you cum on my cock then alpha will give you his knot. You want alphas knot, pretty girl?” His voice was throaty and rough and it made your eyes roll with how sexy it sounded as it sent you even further into that deep subspace that only he could send you too. The alpha could make your brain fuzzy with a single look; when he fucked you it sent it into overdrive. 
“Uh huh, wan’ your knot.” Your words were slurred, barely making it out of your mouth before he changed up the tempo and made his movements more of a deep grind into your core, hitting your special spot and also letting his pelvis rub perfectly against your clit. “Fuck oh my god gonna cum. Alpha m’ gonna cum!” 
“Go ahead, baby. Make a mess on my lap.” 
With his permission you let go and felt the snap within you, your pussy tightening around him as you came. “Ngggggghhhhhhh Channie! Alpha!” 
There was a deep rumble from within the man's chest as he gave into his instincts and started rutting up into you harder than ever before, making you scream at the overstimulation. He gave you three more rough thrusts before you felt his knot begin to inflate within you, locking himself into place within you and warm spurts of his essence coated your walls. You couldn’t stop spasming and squirming on his lap as you felt him fill you to the brim. 
After a few moments Chan seemed to catch his breath but you couldn’t stop shaking and whining. He let go of his hold on your thighs and ass, bringing one hand to the back of your head as he stroked you to soothe you. “Shh baby, you’re ok. I’ve got ya.” He gave your cheek a gentle kiss and he pumped out calming pheromones. It took you a few minutes to finally come back down to earth. When you came to your senses you lifted your face from his neck, both your face and his neck were wet with your tears and you looked dazed. “Are you ok my love?” You nodded with a ‘hmfp’. He chuckled at how cute you were. “Did alpha fuck you too good?” 
You nodded again and felt your face heat up at his words. “Mmhmm. So good. Missed alphas cock.” 
“My baby is turning dirty!” He mocked a gasp in shock. “You’re spending too much time with those heathens, they’re corrupting you.” 
You giggled and kissed his cheek, “I think it’s you who's doing the corrupting around here Channie.” You tilted your face to align with his and you gave him a deep kiss on his plump lips. His tongue invaded your mouth and mingled with your own, giving you a taste of each other. 
He pulled away with a loud ‘mwah’ and rubbed your noses together, making you giggle and peck his lips again. You could feel his knot beginning to deflate, so the alpha adjusted his hold on you to lift you up gently and pull you off of his member. You hissed when you felt him leave your body, the knot not yet down completely so it gave you a small tug as it left you. That pain turned to relief when you were able to move your legs- the appendages burning from the held position. 
Chan helped you off his lap and to your feet. Your legs felt like jelly and almost gave out but he was there to catch you and steady you. “Easy baby, gotta be careful after a rockus love making like that.” His tone was cocky and he grinned the same way, making you roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him. “You watch that little tongue of yours omega, you stick it out too much and something may just come by and snatch it!” He made a quick pinching motion at your face making you squeal and back away from him. 
“You can’t have it, it's mine!” You pushed his hands away as they reached out to grab you again, both of you unable to control your laughter. “Get away you monster!” 
“Monster? Oh no baby, I’m the big bad wolf.” He grinned evilly and wiggled his fingers at you. “And if I catch you I’m gonna eat you up.” 
“You won’t eat me!” You backed away further and towards the door while still keeping your eyes on him. Just as your hand reached the doorknob he pounced, making you shriek. “Ahhh no no no!” You wretched the door open and flew out of the room, the alpha hot on your tail.
“Where ya goin little red? Don’t you wanna play with the wolf?” He reached for you but you barely made it past his fingertips.
“No thanks! I don’t play with monsters!” You managed to get down the hall to the bathroom in the hallway, closing it and locking it a mere second before your alpha got to the door. “Yes I made it! Take that you dirty wolf!” He pretended to scratch at the door and you stuck out your tongue again at the door. “You can’t see it but I’m sticking my tongue out at you!” 
You could hear him chuckle and scratch at the door again. “Come on out and play with me some more little omega. Give this wolf another taste of you.” Both of you knew he could make you come out if he really wanted too, but the chase was more fun. No sense in ending it with an alpha command. 
“Nuh uh, I’m fine here.” 
“Hmm, I’ll get my hands on you eventually, little red. I am a patient wolf.” The playful bite in his tone sent a quiver through your body and your brain fuzzy. It made your hands twitch and you almost opened the door for him. Almost. 
“We’ll see about that. Now get outta here so you don’t listen to me pee!” 
He just laughed and then you heard his footsteps walk away from the door. 
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Coming out of the bathroom after doing your business and brushing your teeth you caught a glimpse of a stocky figure rounding a corner down the hall. 
Changbin 
You sped after him reaching your hand out before he could go into his room. “Binnie, wait. Where have you been? Are you ok?” 
His head spun around to you then quickly back around, not looking you in the eye and seeming nervous. “Hi Y/n.” 
“Y/n? Since when do you call me by my real name?” You were confused and honestly a little hurt and it showed in your voice. You reached a hand out to touch his shoulder but he jerked it away, still not looking at you. “And why won’t you look at me? Have I done something wrong?”
That made him whip his head back to you, balking at you. “You get borderline assaulted because of me… and you ask me if you did something wrong? Are you serious?” 
“Oh Bin..” You knew he would be taking it hard. “I’m fi-” 
“Don’t say you're fine or it’s ok like I know you’re about too. It’s not ok, Y/n.” He put up a hand and cut you off. His hard gaze went back to the floor. You could just barely see his lash line fill with unshed tears. “Nothing about me being a shitty alpha to you is ok, so let’s not stand here and pretend it is.” 
You shook your head, a deep furrow in your brow. “Binnie don’t say that-” 
“It’s true! If I had been more aware -paid more attention to you- then you would have never been grabbed, let alone touched at all. I selfishly put my own wants before your needs. A good alpha wouldn’t have let that creep touch you.” His voice was raised and harsher than you had ever heard it. Usually he was loud with laughter and fun; it felt unnatural and made a pit settle in your stomach.
Now your own eyes were filled with liquid and all you wanted was to comfort him. “Changbin, it’s not your fault. Will you look at me please?” He still refused to look at you, choosing to keep his head down instead but you did see him sniffle a little bit.
“I don’t deserve to look at you.” 
“Seo Changbin” You tried to make your voice as hard as possible and you put your hands on his cheeks tilting his head back up and making him look at you. “Look at me. I. am. Fine. Do I look hurt? Do I seem like something is wrong with me?” 
“No..” He mumbled, a tear escaping his eye. You were quick to wipe it away with your thumb. 
“Then why are you beating yourself up about it, huh? I am here safe with the pack. Safe with you. We are all here together safe and sound, isn’t that all that matters?” 
“Only because Minho stepped in.. If he hadn't, who knows what could have happened to you.” By now the tears were streaming down the man's face, wetting his cheeks and your hands that still held them. 
“Changbin, that is enough! You are a great alpha and I have no doubt in my mind you would have come to my rescue soon enough. And it doesn’t matter who got there first anyway, what is important is that you and I are both here together. So please, please stop being so hard on yourself. It’s breaking my heart. I cannot bear to see you so upset.” You meant every word and looking in your glassy eyes he knew you did. He knew you weren’t one to lie. 
The alpha couldn’t hold it in anymore and released a quiet sob, attacking you into a much needed hug. “M’ so sorry baby. I love you so much. I don’t know what I would have done if he had hurt you.” 
Even though you were also crying you attempted to sooth him, your hand going from his face to his back as you held on to him. “Shh it’s ok. I love you too, Changbin. My sweet, wonderful, handsome alpha.” 
He sobbed even harder, his grip on you tightening as he tried to get as close to you as possible. You let him hold on to you for as long as he needed, the both of you crying and comforting the other. After a few minutes he slowly pulled back from the hug, instead choosing to bring your mouths together for a tender kiss. You practically melted into his kiss, his soft lips molding with yours. Even though there was no teasing or tongue involved it was just as deep and full of passion. 
This time it was you who pulled back first, your hands coming back up to his face and wiping away the remaining wetness from his perfectly rounded cheeks. “No more tears from you, I can’t stand to see you in pain.” You whispered, giving him your most sincere eyes. 
“Now you know how I feel when you cry.” He replied just as quietly. Changbin gave you one last quick peck then let you go completely, stepping back from you and a pink tinge appearing on his cheeks. He cleared his throat and you couldn’t help but to giggle. Of course you giggling made him join you; your laugh was just that contagious. 
The mood was instantly lightened, the tension visibly lifting from the alpha as he calmed down. But there was still a question remaining in your mind. “Binnie, where did you go last night? I didn’t sense that you came home, I was worried.” 
“I uh,” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I just spent the night walking around the woods. I was too ashamed to face you or Minho, so I thought it was easier to just walk home from the carnival to collect my thoughts.” 
You nodded in understanding, grabbing his hand and rubbing the back of his knuckles. “I’m just glad you came home at all. Chan told me he had talked to you but he didn’t specify what he had said so I was scared he had given you an unjust punishment.” You noticed the grimace in his expression. “Wait, did he? What did he say to you?” 
Bin shrugged as if it was no big deal but the crack in his voice gave him away. “Nothing crazy… He just took away my gym privileges for a while.” 
You quietly gasped and pulled him into another hug, “Oh Binnie, that’s horrible I’m so sorry.” 
“It’s ok Baby, all it means is I have to work out at home. Give ya a show.” He flexed his muscles at you, giving you a wink and making you laugh. 
“How about you come give me a show right now? I need to take a shower and you could join me if you want.”  You made a show of biting your lip dramatically and wiggling your eyebrows. 
Changbin burst into that high pitched laughter that you loved so much and nodded his head. “I could definitely use a shower after being outside all night.” 
You sniffed him and made a fake disgusted face, waving a hand in front of your face. “Yeah I’ll say.” 
“Hey now don’t you start bullying me! You’re turning into those jerks!” 
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“H-O-T-T-O-G-O. YOU CAN’T TAKE ME HOT TO GO!” 
It was about three hours later after your shower with Changbin (which to your surprise did not turn sexual), and you were just finishing up sweeping the kitchen floors after you cleaned up breakfast while listening to music. You wanted to get a few things done today; feeling energized and needing to dance it out while you cleaned up. You offered Changbin to help you but he was exhausted after his night meandering the woods. 
“H-O-T-T-O-G-O, snap and clap and touch your toes
Raise your hands, now body roll, dance it out, you're hot to go” 
You did as the song said, bending down and body rolling, getting lost in the music. You were so thankful there was a radio in the kitchen. A low whistle from the kitchen entryway scared you, making you turn in fright and a hand fly to your chest. 
“Seungmin, stop scaring me!” 
The beta snickered, leaning on the wall. “Can’t help that we keep meeting like this little puppy.” His darkening eyes raked over your form, subconsciously licking his lips. He had observed you dancing for a few minutes before he whistled; drinking in the sight of you in a little maroon skirt and one of his t-shirts. Don’t get him started on the little peek of your little purple panties that he got to see while you were bent over. It was enough to make a grown man cry. 
A grumbled ‘hmpf’ left your lips and you crossed your arms, clearly unamused. “I don’t know if you have some sixth sense but you always seem to know when I’m distracted.” You narrowed your eyes playfully at him. “You obsessed with me or something?” 
Seungmin scoffed and pushed off the wall, coming to stand right in front of you and keeping eye contact. “More than you know, little puppy.” His gaze was so intense it made you backup a foot until your back touched the edge of the counter, where the beta put his hands to cage you in. His eyes flickered to your lips then back to your own and he leaned down ever so slightly. 
Your lids began to close in anticipation of his kiss, but it didn’t come. Instead you were surprised again when you felt his hands go down to the back of your exposed thighs and you were suddenly lifted off the floor. “Seungmin!” You shrieked, and smacked at his shoulder. 
“Calm down pup, don’t go throwing hands I’m just putting you on the counter.” 
As he said he lifted you and seated you promptly on the counter behind you. Your legs were dangling off the side and Seungmin got another peak at your underwear.  
“You drive me crazy enough to throw hands so really I don’t think I am to blame.” You stuck out your tongue at him and he rolled his eyes, then pinched you quickly and backed away snickering. “Ow!” 
“Dramatic omega.” He wagged a finger at you in jest, laughing again when you huffed. The man turned and opened the freezer, pulling out two mini popsicles. “Put the claws away or you won’t get one of these.” He waved one around in front of you. 
You made grabby hands at the sweet treat , giving him your best teasing pleading voice. “Gimme please!” You cheered when the beta handed you the frozen pop. “Hell yeah!” 
Without wasting any time you unwrapped the treat and started to eat it. You hummed in satisfaction as you took in the flavor. Blue raspberry; your favorite. Seungmin just watched as you ate your pop lost in your own world. He felt the tent in his pants grow tighter as you sucked and licked the phallic ice pop and were oblivious to the show you were putting on for him. 
“That looks good, where’s mine?” 
Both you and Seungmin were pulled from your thoughts by Chan who had walked into the kitchen. 
“Uh” The beta stuttered, then pointed to the freezer. “I picked them up the other day, do you want one, Chan?” 
Chan had taken notice of you both before he even spoke, already getting a read on the younger male's dominant and lusty energy. Well, that, and he watched as Seungmin couldn’t take his eyes off of your sinful mouth or your panties that were on display. 
“Hmmm, no thanks Seung. But I may just steal a taste of yours, baby.” The alpha smiled cheekily as you happily stuck your treat out for him. He stuck his tongue out as if he was going to take a lick, then he chomped down quickly on your pop, biting off a large chunk. 
“NO HOW COULD YOU?!” You yelled, shocked at the sudden loss of your popsicle; your now blue mouth open and eyes wide. “YOU SAID YOU WANTED A TASTE! A TASTE!” 
Both boys were laughing at your plight as you stared down at your now almost gone pop. “M’ sorry my love, alpha will buy another whole case while I’m out, just for you. How’s that sound?” He brought you into a hug with you still sitting on the counter as you pouted. 
You perked up at the idea of your own box- then his other words registered in your brain. “Wait where are you going?” 
“Just gotta go run an errand. I won’t be too long.” There was something malicious behind his usually kind eyes, it was so subtle but you and Seungmin both caught it. Chan laid a kiss to your cold lips and gave your knee a pat. “Be good for Minnie, I’ll see you soon omega.” He winked then he was out of the room. 
You looked to Minnie hoping he would give you an answer to the alphas behavior but instead you found him already staring at you. Or more specifically the melting ice in your hand. The juice was dripping down your fingers now and you cursed softly when you noticed the mess it was about to create. 
Before you could grab a nearby towel to clean it up your wrist was grabbed by warm fingers. “M-minnie?” 
The beta plucked the stick from your hand and threw it in the sink a few feet away- the wood making a quiet thump as it landed. Seungmin took the hand that was in his grasp and lifted it up to his face and stuck out his tongue. You held your breath as he slowly licked up the dripping juice that lingered on your fingers. The action was so erotic and abrupt that you felt a flood of slick form in your underwear. 
Seungmin held eye contact while he licked and sucked each individual finger, and you were too entranced to move even an inch. Only after each finger had been ~thoroughly~  cleaned by him did Seungmin let you go. He licked his lips and smirked down at your still dumbstruck expression. “That was pretty tasty. I wonder what other sweet treat you're hiding from me.” 
The boy dropped a wink at you then he fell to his knees in front of you; his hands went to your bare thighs, where they made quick work of pushing your skirt up and out of the way of his next meal. He groaned at the sight of the wet patch of the front of your panties, making you feel self conscious and you threw your palms over your face. “Seungmin! We’re in the kitchen! We can’t do this here!”
He scoffed, “No better place to eat than in the kitchen.” You could feel his hand leave one of your thighs, then you felt the rough pad of what you could assume was his thumb on your clit, rubbing you through the purple material and making your hips buck on reflex. “Looks like you want it too, huh pretty puppy? Gonna sit like a good pup and let your master give you a treat?” 
You didn’t answer him while you sat in contemplation, but that was not what Seungmin wanted. You gasped when your hands were yanked away from hiding you and his rough fingers gripped the underside of your chin, squishing your cheeks harshly. 
“I asked you if you were gonna be good for me, don’t act like a mutt and answer my question.” His growled words held a warning in them and you knew better than to test his patience right now. 
“Yesh Seunminf.” You answered the best you could with your smushed lips, eyes already glassy and begging for his mercy. 
“Good girl.” 
His signature smirk returned to his beautiful face and he let your face go then brought his attention back to your center. This time he decided to not waste anymore time, and he dove in face first to your clothed core. Seungmin nosed your clit through the fabric and it had you gushing even more. He was breathing deeply as if trying to absorb as much of your pure scent as possible and you could see a hint of his eyes rolling back into his head. It made you want to hide behind your hands again but you didn’t want to risk the repercussions. 
He hummed when his wet tongue stuck out and he pulled your panties into his mouth, sucking your essence out of the fabric. The act was one of the lewdest things you have ever fucking seen; it made your body burn with both embarrassment and titilation. 
“Minnie” You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped when he kept licking into you, making obscene grunts as he feasted on you and made your underwear beyond soaked. As good as it felt it was not enough. You craved more. “Minnie please.” 
He ignored your plea, instead he dug his face even further as he suckled your panties into his mouth. The beta was getting lost in you- in your pussy- it was his favorite thing in the world (everything about you was, really). He kept at it until he felt your thighs squeeze against his head. 
Seungmin pulled his face back and glared at you for interrupting him. “Thought you were gonna behave.” 
You whimpered and bit your lip. “M’ sorry Minnie. Didn’t mean too. Just need more.” 
“More?” He scoffed, “My greedy puppy wants more? You think you deserve it?” 
You nodded rapidly, rushing your words out.  “Yes, please. Been good.” 
He huffed in contemplation, then he surprised you by ripping your soaking underwear off your body and suddenly you were hoisted from your place on the counter. “Fine, I'll give my puppy a real treat then.” He crashed his lips into yours, his mouth instantly devouring your own. You moaned against his lips and you felt him smirk again, and he nibbled on your tongue, making you squeal from the light pain. 
Thinking he was going to set you down on the ground you had no time to react before you found that the beta had basically thrown himself down onto the ground on his back, and hauled you down with him so you were sat atop of his chest. Then he gave you an expectant look. 
“Uhh” You were utterly confused, “I dont…I don’t know what…” 
Seungmin rolled his eyes and sighed, “Thought it was pretty obvious.” He motioned to his face. “Sit on my face.” 
“Huh?” 
“Sorry. Please sit on my face.” 
The casualty of his request was staggering; it left you in absolute shock especially since he had requested it in the kitchen. That was the biggest hurdle that you were having trouble getting over. “But..We’re in the kitchen… during broad daylight where anyone could walk in on us... Maybe we should go up to your room?” 
Your defiance was starting to irritate the beta, his eyes hardening even further and he let out a growl. “I don’t give a flying fuck where we are or what time of day it is. I will fuck you whenever and whereever I want. Now scoot your ass up here and sit on my fucking face and let me eat your pretty pussy. I’m done asking.” 
You yelped when his hands harshly gripped your thighs and he forcefully dragged you up until you were hovering over his awaiting mouth. The grip he had on you only tightened when he immediately dug his face into your core, making you gasp at the contact and your hands flew to his hair to balance yourself or you would have risked falling over.  
“Oh my god, Seungmin!” You couldn’t help but rock your hips as you moaned and called out his name as he lapped at your center; greedily swallowing down the nectar that flowed freely from you.  By now his nails were embedding themselves into your skin with how hard they were digging in, trying to keep you still so he could enjoy his meal. “M-minnie, s’good.” 
“Mmmmmm” He hummed and slurped at you obscenely, his lips encircled your clit and you felt the vibrations hit your sensitive nub. You jerked and spasmed when he gave your clit a teasing nip with his teeth. He chuckled when you tried to get away from the painful pleasure and held on even tighter; so tight you could feel the blood begin to rush from the wounds his nails inflicted. “Nope, you’re staying right here.” 
The slurping and moaning was so loud that honestly you were surprised someone else hadn’t already walked in to find you in this compromising position. Though the music was still playing so the tunes must be drowning out your obscenities. You looked down at the boy beneath you and his face was hidden by your skirt, the flimsy material hiding his rapturous expression. 
“So fucking tasty.” The beta mumbled, his words muffled,  feeling himself become almost drunk on your ambrosia. “Most delectable pussy I’ve ever tasted.”  
“You really have no fucking shame, do you Seungmin? I can smell what you're doing from outside.” 
Your head had been thrown back in pleasure so you hadn’t noticed a new arrival to the kitchen, nor had you noticed said arrival leaning against the counter a few feet away watching your fucked out expression for at least five minutes. 
Seungmin growled from under you, feeling possessive over his bounty. “Go away Minho. We’re busy.” 
The elder beta snorted a laugh, “Yeah I can see that.” Minho waltzed over to where Seungmin laid on the ground and crouched down in front of you. He reached out and lifted the skirt that hid the boy's face, meeting the mean glare that the younger boy was sporting; though Seungmin never stopped his ministrations. Minho flipped the skirt back over the others face and stood again. 
Minho took in your glassy eyes and the little whimpers that escaped your lips with every suck and swipe of the younger boy's tongue. He noticed the way your mouth puckered subconsciously as if it were searching for something. Minho reached out and cupped your cheek in his warm hand, his thumb running along your open bottom lip. 
“M-min” Your voice was pleading, though you didn’t know what you were asking for. 
“Mmm what do you need omega?” He cooed at you condescendingly, already having an idea but wanting to piss off the other beta. “Need me to take care of you too?” 
“I said go the fuck away you asshole. She doesn’t need anything from you.” Seungmin all but snarled at Minho, his voice raspy and wet from the juices in his mouth. 
“I wasn’t asking you, Seungminnie. I was asking our beautiful omega.” He stroked your cheek and kept looking down into your watery eyes, holding deep eye contact. “And by the looks of it she needs a little more stimulation. So what do you say, Baby?” 
You didn’t want to upset Seungmin but you needed something more. With trepidation you nodded your head, and grabbed onto the man standing in front of you. 
“M-more, Minho. Please.” 
He tsked, “Is that what you call me, omega?” 
Was he really about to embarrass you in front of Seungmin? 
He looked down at you with that domineering gaze and a flicker of arrogance on his face.
Yes. Yes he was. 
“Sir.” You whined, trying to keep your voice low. 
“Hmm? What was that, I couldn’t hear you. You’ll have to speak up like a big girl.” 
Seungmins tongue buried particularly deep into your hole, making you moan and lurch forward into Minho who held you steady. 
You took a deep breath and blinked back tears. You raised your voice a few octaves and held him tighter. “Sir, need something. Please Sir.” 
“Oh my fucking god” You heard Seungmin murmur in disbelief at the nickname you called Minho. 
“That’s my good girl. Here you go baby.” The patronizing beta ran his thumb along your lip again before forcefully shoving it into your open mouth. Instantly you started sucking on the appendage, it being just what you needed for your oral fixation. You hummed around the digit and lathed your tongue on the pad of it. 
Your hips started bucking even more and your whines got louder. You could feel your high approaching at a rapid pace now and apparently the two men could tell you were close. Just as you felt the knot begin to tighten within you, Seungmin gave your clit a big suck into his mouth and that was the kick you needed. 
The welled up tears started to leak down your face as you came, and your eyes fluttered shut at the delicious pleasure that went through your whole body. Your eyes snapped back open when you felt a sharp sting on your cheek and Minho was glowering down at you still with his cat-like eyes. 
“Look at me while he makes you cum. Don’t you dare look away from me.” He hissed and shoved another finger down your throat, making you choke. 
You fought to keep your eyes open as you came, shaking and whimpering from your place on Seungmins face. The slurping from below got louder as your sweet essence was dranken up by the beta man. The sound was downright filthy. 
Finally, Seungmins tongue had stopped moving within you and had returned to his own mouth. He gave you a moment to finish shaking then he scooted you down so you sat on his stomach once again. Minho let his hands fall from your face as he drank in the fucked out sight of you. 
Seungmin lifted his head from the floor as he comfortingly ran his fingers over the small wounds his nails left. His face was drenched in your slick, the liquid dripping down his chin as he sat up slightly and his tongue shot out to catch the drippage. He made a show of groaning at the taste of it when he licked his lips. 
“Mmm delectable.” 
You felt your face heat up as the mortification caught up with you. You peeked up to see Minho still standing there watching your every move and you couldn’t bear to look him or Seungmin in the eye so you cast them down instead. 
“What’s the matter, puppy? Are you embarrassed that Minho Hyung caught you out in the open acting like a dirty mutt in heat for me? Or are you upset you didn’t get to cum on my cock instead?” 
The teasing words had you whimpering and you involuntarily clenched your thighs around Seungmins waist. Seungmin was growing more and more open to the help of Minho, seeing how desperate it had made you and he knew the new possible ways to play with you were endless. 
Minho bent down and got close to your face as he fake pouted. “Aww I think she wants you to fuck her properly, Minnie. Look at her writhing at the mere thought of it.” It was true, you were fidgeting and you could feel even more slick gathering from your pussy and onto Seungmins shirt. “Poor baby needs your dick, Seung.” 
They both grinned at each other mischievously, both betas locking eyes in a silent understanding. This was going to be so fun.
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The maps on Chan's phone alerted him that his destination was on the right hand side. The alpha kissed his teeth as he threw his phone on the passenger seat, then opened the door and stepped out. This was his last and most pressing matter of the day and he was ready to get it over with. 
Stepping up to the doorstep of the small house Chan knocked on the door and waited. After a minute the door was opened to a familiar face. 
“Chan, what a surprise! What can I do for you?” The elder man had a kind smile and seemed genuinely happy to see Chan. 
“How are you, JYP? It’s been awhile.” Chan shook hands with the beta man and he peered past the door for a moment. They exchanged quick pleasantries but Chan declined the offer to come inside. “Oh no thank you, I can’t stay long. I was actually looking for Wooyoung. I heard he was staying with you and wondered if he was in?” 
“My nephew? Yes he is in right now, I’ll get him for you.” Chan smiled and thanked JYP. “WOOYOUNG YOU HAVE A VISITOR!” 
A thundering of feet could be heard walking through the house and then Chan got his first in-person look at Wooyoung. The beta was slightly taller than Chan was, and he had long arms but he was on the lankier side. He noticed the smile fell from Wooyoung's face when he saw just who was at the door for him. Chan heard him whisper a quiet ‘shit’, and he had to bite back a devilish grin. 
“Hi, my name is Chan. I was wondering if you had a second to speak with me.” He noticed the hesitation on the boy's face, so he pressed the order a tad harder. “It’ll only take a minute.” 
Wooyoung was shoved out the door by his uncle, who gave him a pat on the back. “ Of course he has plenty of time! Chan does alot for this town, so be polite Wooyoung.” With that the elder man shut the door and gave them some privacy.
Chan could see the nerves that laid within the boy; the twiddle of his fingers and the anxious run of his tongue on his lip gave him away instantly. Good, he should be scared. 
“Nice to meet you Wooyoung. Changbin has told me alot about you.” 
“O-oh. Changbin is a good friend.” 
The alpha hummed in agreement, nodding. “He is. He is a good man and a great pack mate.” Chan took a subtle step closer to the beta. 
“Did Changbin send you here?” Wooyoung asked, mentally running over what Bin could have said to Chan. 
Chan clicked his teeth, and shook his head. “Nah. I came of my own volition. I actually had a question I wanted to ask you.” 
“Ok, what is i-” Before Wooyoung could finish his question, Chan's hand shot out and grabbed onto the younger man's throat. Suddenly Wooyoung's face was shoved forcefully against the wood of the house, his nose smashing and he could feel the crack of his bone and blood start to drip out. 
Chan snickered at the noise of pain Wooyoung let out and he tightened his grip on his neck. Chan dug his nails sharply into the skin and he felt the betas windpipe beneath his fingers. He got closer to Wooyoung until his broad body was trapping him against the wall.
“Do you like being grabbed, Wooyoung?” Chan seethed but kept his tone relatively calm, albeit a bit menacing. “Do you like it when a stranger that's stronger than you puts his hands on you?” When the beta didn’t answer Chan yanked him back and re-shoved his bloody face into the wood and made the beta hiccup from the pain. Chan's other hand had a tight hold on Wooyoung's hands and he kept them locked behind his back so he couldn’t fight back.
 “Let me tell you something, motherfucker. Changbin is a good man. But I’m not.” Chan increased the pressure on his neck, the beta letting out a choking gurgle as the blood flooded his mouth. “And I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty. So this is going to be your only warning.” Chan lowered his voice to an ominous sneer. “If you ever put your filthy fucking hands on my omega or my packmate again, I will rip your arms from your torso and throw them in the woods for the bears to eat.” 
Wooyoung squirmed and moaned in pain, his airways closing more and more with each passing second. For a split second he wondered if he would ever escape. Suddenly all the air he had been searching for came rushing back to him as he was released. Wooyoung fell to his knees and his hands flew to his neck as he coughed and sputtered, the blood of his face flying in specs everywhere.
“The only reason I haven’t done so already is out of respect for your uncle, who has been a pillar in our society. Be grateful he was able to save you… This time.” Chan stepped back and straightened himself out. “Go clean yourself up before you make too big of a mess on that poor man's porch.” 
With that Chan stepped off the porch and left the beta crying and sputtering, and slipped back into his car. He drove away without so much as a single glance back- as if the ordeal hadn’t even occurred at all. 
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“Ngghhh” You gurgled out the best you could around Minho's cock but it only came out in a slobbery whine. His member was pistoning in and out of your mouth as he held your hair, using your face to get himself off but also making you incredibly horny. 
Seungmin was still under you but now instead of his face you were sitting atop his dick reverse cowgirl; the thick appendage sliding in with reckless abandon. Your thighs were burning but the divine pleasure of being used by them was too delicious for you to care. The sloshing from both your pussy and your mouth makes you dizzy and your brain mushy- you had no choice but to give yourself over to them completely (much to their- and your- delight).
“Feels so good, your pussy is always so damn tight. My dirty pup. So fucking good for us.” Seungmin could feel the way your walls clenched around him at the praise and it made him moan loudly. He cursed and his own hips started to quiver with the impending orgasm. 
“The best omega we could have asked for.” Minho was next to praise you, his head thrown back and his breathing hard. He himself also was not far from cumming. He groaned at the sight of your tears continuously leaking down your cheeks and mixing with the saliva on your chin. 
Minho opened his eyes when he sensed another presence nearby. Or to him it was more like a pest lurking around. Big boba eyes peered slowly through the threshold, hoping to catch a good look at what was happening in there, his cock twitching in his pants. Minho bit back a grunt, and he called out to the boy. 
“Get outta here Jisung, go jerk off somewhere else you pervert.”
A squeak left the younger boy and he turned around, bumping into his accomplice that seemed just as alarmed at being caught. Felix. He could hear them scurry down the hall together and rolled his eyes at their antics. It didn’t seem like you even noticed they had appeared or left at all.
For the two betas this was sort of poetic. A few weeks prior they had been at odds about you- and now here they were, coming together because of you, both with a common goal in mind; ultimate pleasure. 
“Touch your clit, baby. Make yourself cum on my dick, get me all messy with your slick pretty girl. I wanna be soaked in it from head to toe.” Seungmin requested through his moans and you did as he said, your nimble fingers traveling down your body and to your aching nub. You spasmed and whined when you made contact with it, which in turn made your walls quiver around Minnie's length. 
Minho's hand that wasn’t in your hair was on your now bare breast, fondling the heaving flesh and pinching at your nipple. You cried louder when he pinched particularly roughly on your already abused nipple. It was the final push you needed before you came for the third time today. You gasped and choked on Minho's length, making him pull out of your mouth so you could breathe. 
When you came your walls clamped down on Seungmin and triggered his orgasm, the betas hips stuttering as he filled you with his essence. “Fuuckkkk holy shit, so tight puppy.” 
The view of you both cumming together was too much for Minho and he stroked his member quickly in front of your open mouth, “So hot, what the fuck” he said through clenched teeth as his high came forcefully and his cum spurted out of the tip and onto your face, some of it getting into your open moaning mouth. 
All three of you were quite a sight, all shaking and crying with pleasure together in the middle of the kitchen. You and Seungmin were both covered in cum and slick, the combination of the two leaking out of you and all over the beta man's thighs and onto the floor. Minho couldn’t help himself and he leaned down and ran the fat of his tongue along your cheeks, collecting the salty mixture of your tears and some of his cum, and moaning from the taste. 
After a few moments all three of you were able to collect your breath and calm down. You were drifting in deep space and barely registered Minho's arms scooping you up and off of Seungmin. You let out a quiet hiss when your thighs were able to move from the held position. 
“Shh it’s ok baby. I know you're sore, we’ll take care of you.” Minho cooed and set you down on the counter again. “Hold still f’ me baby.” He used a damp rag to clean the remaining semen off of your face. You sat perfectly still as he made you sip a cup of water provided by Minnie. After every sip you took you were rewarded by pecks on your lips and a soft ‘good girl’. 
 After you finished your water you were scooped up again but this time by Seungmin. He had pulled his shorts back up but you were still completely naked as he carried you through the halls and to Chan's bathroom and to the massive bathtub. 
The two of you bathed together as you slowly came back down to earth. The beta smothered you with kisses and made sure to clean you thoroughly. It was just what you needed after the rough fucking they had put you through, even though you enjoyed it immensely. 
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Minho was in the kitchen cleaning up the mess when he heard Chan come in and head into the kitchen, a grocery bag in his hand. Chan noticed the blush on the betas cheeks and the mop in his hand, a knowing smirk coming across the alphas face. 
“Make a mess?” 
Minho eyed the specs of blood that stained Chan's shirt and raised a brow. “I could ask you the same.” 
Chan shrugged and set the bag on the freshly cleaned counter top, pulling out a brand new pack of popsicles that he promptly stuck in the freezer. “Just went to clean up a mess, actually.” 
The beta hummed in understanding. “Baby is in the bath with Seung. She is feeling really delicate right now so I’d change my shirt if I were you.” 
Chan shot him a grateful thumbs up and headed up to his room, tearing his shirt off before he entered. He could hear you giggling and the sound of the drain from his bathroom so he quickly shucked on a new shirt then went into the adjoining room. 
“Stop Minnie!” You were laughing as you playfully pushed Seungmin away as he tried to tickle your sides. You were sitting on the counter as the beta dried you off after your bath. 
“I can’t help it, rules are rules, I have to tickle you after a bath. I can’t change the law, omega.” 
“You liar! Stop your nonsense!” It was then that you noticed Chan enter the bathroom. “Alpha!” You beamed and reached a hand out as a plea for help against the beta.
“I’ll save you, my love.” He laughed and dramatically grabbed Seungmin by the shoulders and shook him, making the beta laugh even louder and try to hold on to you. Chan was able to pull Seungmin away and held his arms as the younger boy struggled. “I got him, run baby!” 
You wrapped your towel tighter around you and hopped off the counter, only for your legs to give out after you took a single step and you plummeted to the ground. Your thighs were so sore you couldn’t even walk. 
At once both boys stopped playing and rushed to your side, with Chan hauling you up into his arms. “Are you ok baby?” 
You nodded, giggling and burying your face into his chest. You noticed that he wasn’t wearing the shirt he left in, but you decided not to bring it up. “Yeah I’m fine. My legs are just too weak right now. You guys really did a number on me.” You didn’t miss the low five Chan offered Seungmin. “Hey!” You smacked his shoulder and he only laughed harder. “You guys are ridiculous.”
Seungmin realized he was still borderline naked; with only a towel wrapped around his waist- and gave you a tender kiss as you sat in the alphas arms. “I’m gonna go get dressed. I’ll see you in a little while, pup.” 
Nodding you returned his kiss, “Ok Minnie. I love you.” 
“Love you too.” He felt his face heat up as he murmured the sentiment, glaring at the alpha who smirked at him and wiggled his brows. “Oh fuck off Hyung.” 
“Loooovee youuuu Minnniieeeee” Chan drawled teasingly as the younger passed him, cackling when Seungmin flipped him off as he left the room. Chan carried you to his bed and set you down on the soft sheets. Then he gathered a tank top and a pair of his boxers for you to wear. 
“How was your day, Channie?” You asked him once you were dressed. 
He tossed his head back and forth with a grin. “I had a pretty good day. And by the smell in the house I could say you did too.” Your face heated up and you pouted. “You won’t be pouting for long, omega. I got you something special while I was gone.”
That perked you right up, eyes showing your excitement. “Really? What is it?” 
“Close your eyes.” You did as you were told, screwing your lids shut tight. You heard him shuffle until he was on his knees on the bed behind you. Ever so slightly you felt the coolness of a metal chain fall around your neck, and you could feel Chan clip it behind you. “You can open your eyes now my love.” 
You snapped them open and instantly looked down at the necklace. Hanging down on a little silver chain was a ‘C’ made of rose gold. You cradled the pendant and turned to face your alpha, your lip wobbling. “Oh Channie. I love it. Thank you so much.” You launched yourself into him and wrapped him in your arms. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” 
Chan felt sheepish all of a sudden, holding on to you just as tight. “You’re welcome, baby. I know you have my bite but I wanted you to have another little piece of me with you always. Somewhere I can stay close to your heart.” 
You were literally melting at his words, your heart feeling light in your chest as you squeezed him. “I love you Channie. So, so much. I’m so grateful to have you.” 
“Aww baby, I love you too. More than words could express.” He kissed the top of your head. 
Chan couldn’t imagine his life without you in it, he loved you so much. Hell, you were soulmates for crying out loud. He would do anything for you. Care for you, love you, protect you. And nothing and no one was going to take you from him. That he was certain. 
“Oh and I picked you up another pack of popsicles.” 
“Fuck yeah!” 
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Looks like omega got eaten after all 😁And chan turned into quite the wolf didn't he 🐺😈
Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!
Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!
Beta read by my loves @ayejaii and @jehhskz <3
©doitforbangchan
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wonlovie · 1 year ago
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— ALWAYS.
After being broken up with, the cherry on top was receiving an invitation to your ex-boyfriend's wedding, leaving you breaking at the seams. Luckily for you, your childhood best friend is there to keep you together.
— starring. childhood bestfriend!jake x fem!reader ft. the slightest appearance of niki, mentions of ex!heeseung and le sserafim's chaewon (she was the first one i thought of LOL)
— tags. friends-to-lovers, slowburn, minor angst, jake is highkey a thigh guy, road trip!!, the oh-no-there's-only-one-bed trope several times over, smut [fem. masturbation while in the same bed, vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), handjob, very soft-dom!jake, first time, praising, unprotected sex, reader cries, use of petnames (princess, pretty girl, baby; he also calls you a whore/slut like,, twice) kind of but not really fwb situation [MINORS DNI]]
— word count. 14.3k
— notes. this is the first fic i've posted here!! i also started writing this like,, the day i got covid so if some sentences make zero sense it's because i was loopy af lmAOO on another note jake??? sim jake??? writing this wasnt good for my heart bc he was driving me insane the whOLE TIME
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SIXTEEN DAYS.
When you got the invitation in the mail, a single piece of cardstock carefully decorated with ornate blue lace and beautifully handwritten script, you had half the mind to ignore it. Throw it in the trash, maybe. If the sender asked, you could feign innocence. It got lost in the mail, and perhaps I never received it at all.
Unfortunately for you, your conscience kicked you swiftly in the ass before you could even step on your trash bin pedal. 
Begrudgingly, you really had no choice but to go. After all, it was your cousin’s wedding—a day you had both raved about since you were young children. You could still recall the silly Pinterest boards you put together, regrettably filled with tacky and outdated decor. Your cousin, Chaewon, even called you before the invitation was sent to your box, her excited voice crawling out of your phone speaker and taunting you with sharp licks against your ear.
You should be happy. Really, you should. Aside from Lemon, your newly adopted Jindo puppy, Chaewon was your favourite. Despite moving across the country for university, you were there for her as she was for you. Not a single day went by without an hour-long phone call between the two of you, filled to the brim with conversation or spent in peaceful silence.
The issue wasn’t Chaewon. No, it was far worse than that. The issue was her husband-to-be, a man you despised with every cell of your being.
Lee Heeseung. In other words, your ex. 
It was jarring for you to see the very man who seemed to date you out of pity, never truly initiating intimacy or even trying to pretend to be interested in the things you’d tell him, be so sweet to Chaewon. You had, unfortunately, witnessed their love firsthand on multiple occasions. The longing glances, the whispered sweet nothings, the subtle caresses when they thought no one was looking. 
You hated how bitter you felt about it. His last words to you felt like they were tattooed onto your eyelids.
“I’m sorry, but… I don’t think we should date anymore. I think I’ve found someone else.”
Of course, you were heartbroken. Heeseung was your first boyfriend and your first love. You had tried so damn hard to be the receiver of his affections, but your efforts always fell short. The next week, Chaewon approached you with tears brimming her eyes, begging for forgiveness; you knew that whatever you had with Heeseung was officially history. 
Chaewon, the angel, denied his advances until you pushed her to say yes, as you knew she wanted to. 
And now, your decision had come full circle, the ugly truth rearing its head at you. Your feelings for Heeseung were long gone, but with the breakup came a hundred insecurities you didn’t know you had, hence the big move. Maybe with space, you could heal.
“Stupid,” you whispered as your eyes scanned the invitation for the nth time in the past ten minutes. You rubbed harshly at your eyes, forcing the tears away. With a shaking finger, you traced the wedding date, briefly glancing up at the dog calendar that hung on the wall next to your fridge. 
Gingerly dropping the invitation onto the kitchen counter, you quietly counted the days left. The wedding was just over two weeks away, a beautiful August wedding. You don’t know how long you stood there, goosebumps prickling on your thighs as the morning air brushed against them. Your oversized tee did little to combat the cold.
A quiet knocking at the door made you jump. Swearing under your breath, you swiped at your cheeks to rid any evidence of tears. You shuffled to the front door and peeked through the peephole. A man stood there, hands in his jeans pockets, as he waited for you to answer. However, his head was down, which blocked his face from view.
When you didn’t answer right away, he knocked again just as gently as he had before. This time, though, he called out your name. 
Startled, you paused with your hands pressed against the door, eyes still pressed against the peephole. You knew that voice, instantly recognizing the accent that spilled into his words. Pulling the door open, your suspicions were correct when you were met with your childhood best friend, Jake.
A wide grin pulled at the corners of your lips as you looked the man up and down. “Holy shit,” you started, laughter in your voice. “What are you doing here?” Stepping back to let him in, you eyed his wide shoulders as he bent over to untie his shoes. “You never said you were coming to visit.”
Jake lazily smiled up at you as he tugged off the last shoe. His eyes drifted down for a second, catching sight of your bare legs. Not a moment later, he averted them. “Damn, hello to you too, sweets.” When he stood to his full height, he leaned into a comfortable slouch, shoving his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “Chaewon didn’t tell you?” He tilted his head at you in question.
Shaking your head no, you headed to the kitchen where you left your phone. Finding your chatroom with Chaewon, you scanned the contents quickly. “Look—”
You turned to show Jake your previous texts, but as you swivelled on your heel, you hadn’t expected him to be so close. You jumped slightly, the small of your back pressing into the cool countertop as Jake hovered over you, seemingly inches away. You could practically count his every lash from your angle, not missing how his eyes scanned your face.
Apparently, he didn’t expect to be so close either, as the tips of his ears reddened. “My bad,” as he moved to give you space. He pushed back his hair—when had he dyed it blonde?— to see your screen better. Reading quickly, he snorted at Chaewon’s lack of warning for his arrival, her last message simply being: ;).
“I thought you knew I’d be coming, so I didn’t bother sending a text,” he explained. “Chae wants me to be your escort to the wedding.”
“My what?”
Jake grinned at you, flashing his pearly whites. “Y’know, your stead. Your chauffeur. Your knight in shining armour, if you will.”
“Those aren’t the same in the slightest, Jake.”
“You get what I mean, sweets.” 
You hummed, resting your palms atop the counter by your sides. “Why so early, though? The wedding isn’t for a couple of weeks.” He opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp yip from your bedroom interrupted him. You practically watched as elation flooded his senses when he spun on the spot, searching for the sound source.
Pushing yourself off the counter, you lightly bumped his shoulder with your own as you manoeuvred around him. “Looks like someone’s awake,” you sang as you headed down the hall. You could hear Jake’s heavier, sock-clad footsteps following you into your bedroom as you called out for Lemon.
The little pup bounded toward you, jumping from your bed with a tail that wagged so fast you were concerned she’d sprain it. With her tongue out, she hopped on her hind legs, unsure of whether she should greet you or Jake first. “Lemon, this is Jake,” you introduced as you picked her up. Gently moving her paw in a waving motion, you smiled at him. “Jake, this is the love of my life, Lemon.”
He sent you a teasing smile, “I thought that was my title.” You flushed at the unexpected remark. Before you could respond, he turned to Lemon with a soft expression. “Hi, Lemon. Hope you’re taking good care of sweets for me.” Cooing at the pup, he booped her nose.
Without a word, you motioned for him to follow you back to the living room, situating yourself on the small leather couch worn from years of hand-me-down use. Lemon hopped off your lap, her tail wagging as she beckoned Jake to sit down. He was quick to join you, sitting close enough for your knees to touch when Jake shifted his body to face you. You scanned him up and down.
He’d changed a bit, clearly, since the last you saw him. He wasn’t nearly as scrawny as before, his broad frame apparent from under his unzipped jacket. He had lost the baby fat in his cheeks, leaving behind a sharp jawline. The biggest change to note was his hair. Long gone were the black tresses, and in their place were soft blond locks.
In other words, he was hot.
“When did this happen?” you asked as he shrugged his jacket off, reaching up to twist a strand with your finger. “It looks good on you.”
Jake sent you a teasing look, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. “You would’ve known I went blond like a month and a half ago if you actually read your messages,” he chided, clicking his tongue. His eyes stayed on you, flitting across your face.
“Whatever,” you hushed, “I’ve just been busy with school.” It's a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. No one needed to know that you’ve spent the last few months acting like a heartbroken teen when you were a grown adult. Despite Jake having seen the worst parts of you in high school, you still wanted him to hold some esteem for you.
For a second, it was quiet aside from Lemon’s quiet sniffing, her nose working quickly on Jake’s discarded coat. Jake held eye contact with you, a silent question reflected in his eyes. 
“It’s still weird to me.”
Raising a brow, you rested your elbow on the back of the couch, resting your head against your palm. “What is?”
He stayed silent for a minute before leaning back against the couch, turning his head slightly to face you. “I can’t just walk down the block to annoy you now. Now, you’re four hours away unless I want to spend a few hundred on a plane ticket.” He stuck out his tongue, “‘Dunno why you didn’t stay.” His voice was light, teasing, but you could hear a slight edge to his words.
You huffed, “You know exactly why I left.”
For a moment, neither of you said anything. When Heeseung broke up with you, Jake was the first one you told. Despite being an incoherent, blubbering mess over the phone, he came the instant he heard the first sob rack your body. That night, he held you without a word until your tears ran dry.
“You still hung up about it?”
Pausing, you shook your head. “No,” you bit your lip, not catching the way his eyes darted down to watch, “not anymore, anyway. I don’t feel anything for Heeseung if that’s what you’re asking.” You cracked a sardonic smile at him, punching his shoulder and chuckling when Lemon followed your movement. “Not that pathetic yet, Jake.”
He fully turned his body to you, the leather couch squeaking under his shifting weight. His golden hair fell into his eyes as he bore into yours. “I was there, remember?” His voice was gentle as if he was worried he’d scare you off. “I know it hurt more than you’re letting on. It wasn’t that long ago.”
You silently cursed him for still being able to read you so well, even after so long apart. Absentmindedly, you tugged on the hem of your shirt, playing with the edge that was starting to fray after years of use. Jake leaned forward, placing a warm hand on your bare thigh. “I’ll be there the whole time. If you want me to, I’ll stay right beside you the whole night.”
Your eyes darted to where his large hand rested on your skin, swallowing harshly. “Yeah,” you whispered, looking back up at him through your lashes. “That’d be… really nice, Jake.” You shakily exhaled; his proximity and his touch made your every nerve go haywire. Since when did Jake, your best friend since you were in diapers, have this effect on you? Looking up at the mop of messy blond on his head, you blamed the change in colour.
Jake didn’t say anything for a while but never moved his hand. The two of you sat there, staring into each other's eyes. Lemon had long ago gotten comfy in the small space between you, round eyes closed in rest. “I’ll always be there for you, you know that, right?” He said finally, voice barely above a whisper.
You could only nod, your every thought directed to the hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on the inside of your leg.
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You offered Jake your shower while you went to get his luggage from his car. At first, he refused, telling you that he could get the luggage himself and take a shower afterward, but you had practically shoved him into the bathroom, claiming he smelt bad from the drive. 
Truthfully, he smelt good as ever, having always possessed an addicting scent to you.
Besides, this way, you could clear your head with some fresh air as you left and headed to your apartment parking lot. Easily spotting his car, much newer than any of the models your neighbours had, you jogged over to it. Once inside, you noted how clean the car was, coming as somewhat of a surprise to you. A carwash receipt peaked out from the middle console.
Lugging his suitcase out from the backseat, you were quick to make your way back, lest Jake be left without clothes for too long. Shutting your front door behind you, you nearly let out a scream when, on cue, Jake emerged from a cloud of steam, donning only your fluffy blue towel. He hadn’t noticed you yet, using another towel to shake out the excess water from his hair.
Unknowingly, your eyes followed a bead of water as it trailed down his toned body, disappearing under the towel that threatened to unravel itself, sending your mind into a frenzy. Turning around before he could realize that you were ogling at him like some pervert, you cleared your throat. “Got your suitcase,” you forced out. “You can change in my room if you want.”
“Ah, thanks, sweets.” You listened for his footsteps, tensing as they came closer. “Why so shy?” He inquired with a chuckle at the tip of his tongue. “‘S not like you’ve never seen me naked before.”
“Jake, we were five.”
“Still,” he laughed. You were startled when he patted your shoulder, gently turning you to face him more. You swallowed harshly at the sight of his naked chest up close. “Joking. Thanks for grabbing my stuff.” Without another word, he turned around and disappeared behind your bedroom door.
Letting out a breath, you pressed your forehead against the cool surface of your front door, holding a hand over your heart. Lemon’s tiny paws brought her over to you, the click clicks of her nails against the hardwood taking your attention away from your thoughts. She looked up at you, her head tilted as though she was questioning you. “I must be going crazy, huh?” You knelt down to let her jump on you, her front paws pressing into your leg. 
“Layla’d love her,” Jake’s voice interrupted. You looked up to see him dressed in comfy attire, a dim disappointment settling in your stomach. “You hungry? I can order something for us.”
Rolling your eyes, you stood up. “You’re my guest, Jake. I can order.” You pulled out your phone and open a delivery app. Before you could get too far, the phone was taken from your grasp, left in Jake’s palm as he stared at you in challenge.
With a shake of his head, he denied you. “I may be your guest, but you’re also housing me for two weeks. Plus, I haven’t seen you in forever.” He hunched over to meet your eyes, “My treat. You can pay next time, promise.”
By the time the food arrived, you and Jake had settled in on the couch, a random movie playing on the TV. Quiet chatter filled the space. The movie had already been forgotten, acting as mere background noise to your conversation. You dug into your food without missing a beat, covering your mouth to retort whenever Jake would make a jab at you. 
“You never got to answer my question,” you prompted, putting down your chopsticks and resting the take-out container on the coffee table. “Why’d you come so early? Why not closer to the wedding?”
You watched Jake pause, his expression unreadable. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” he asked, voice low as he turned to look at you. His blond hair had been pushed up and back so many times strands framed his face, allowing you to see all of it. “Because I do,” he continued, shrugging as if he weren’t making your heart race, “I want to see you. All the time.”
Unsure of how to respond, you sputtered for a moment before turning away, your cheeks warm. “I’ve wanted to see you too,” you mumbled, “so thanks. For coming.”
“For you? Always.”
Rolling your eyes, you bumped Jake with your shoulder. “When did you get so cheesy?”
Jake pulled his lower lip under his teeth for a second, biting at the plump flesh as he mulled over an answer. “Just missed you, is all.”
Nodding, you turned your head to watch the rest of the movie. It was confusing since neither of you watched the first half. Beside you, Jake turned to do the same. If either of you noticed how the space between you had become nonexistent, thighs and shoulders pressed together, no one said a word. You couldn’t complain, enjoying how Jake’s warmth seeped through his clothes and into your skin.
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Without realizing it, the both of you fell asleep. The TV had gone dark after hours of inactivity, the moon lighting up the room with a dark hue. Jake awoke first, grumbling when his neck had a familiar ache in it. But when he went to roll his shoulder, something was in the way. Or rather, someone. He turned, pursing his lips to stay quiet as he realized you were leaning on him.
Your legs were draped over his own, something you must’ve done in your sleep. Or maybe it was him searching for a source of warmth in the coolness of the night. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, your head fitting directly in the crook of his neck. He felt his skin burn as he swore quietly. Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the time.
3:02 a.m.
As slowly as he could, he hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back. Standing, he hoped his racing heart wouldn’t wake you. Jake maneuvered the dark apartment as best he could without accidentally hitting your head against the walls of your hallway. Luckily, you left your bedroom door open, so he didn’t need to figure that out somehow. 
Lemon was already asleep, curled up on your left pillow. Carefully, he laid you down on the bed, pushing away stray hairs on your face afterward. He stayed there for a moment, staring at your peaceful expression. His heart warmed, a tingly feeling in his belly erupting at the sight of you. He tugged the blanket over your body, pressing a finger to his lips when Lemon startled awake.
Tucking you in, he hovered for a minute before pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. “Night, sweets,” he whispered before moving to his feet. Before he could get very far, a hand shot out from under the blanket and weakly grasped at his wrist. Turning, Jake held a breath at the sight of your sleepy eyes gazing up at him. “Only have one bed,” you slurred, sleep taking over your speech. “Sleep here.”
Jake balked at you, hands subconsciously balling at his sides. “Are you sure? I can sleep on the couch—”
“No! Sleep here.” You didn’t give him much room to argue as you scooted backwards to give him some room before lifting the blanket in invitation. This movement bugged Lemon, clearly, as she moved from your pillow to lay in the nook of your bent legs. “Come on, we’ve slept in the same bed before.”
Swallowing at the sight of you, eyes barely open and shirt riding up further than he could handle, Jake relented, knowing you would keep arguing with him until daylight. The last time we slept in the same bed, you were bawling your eyes out over Heeseung, he stopped himself from saying. The thought lingered as he crawled in next to you, keeping a respectful distance. 
Satisfied, you allowed your heavy lids to close, a small, contented smile painted on your lips. “G’night, Jake.”
He sighed. “Good night, sweets.”
You fell asleep instantly, hand resting on the pillow in front of your face. Jake mirrored your position, your pinkies centimetres from touching. He observed the slow rise and fall of your chest and the occasional sniffs when your hair would fall and tickle your nose. His eyes traced your every feature, from the curve of your cheek to your supple lips. 
Jake did not sleep well that night.
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FOURTEEN DAYS.
Two days after Jake had made an appearance, he quickly fell into a routine with you. He would wake up first and have a cup of coffee ready for you whenever you’d sleepily bound into the kitchen. A bowl of cereal would already be sitting on the counter, the jug of milk sitting beside it. Your mornings were quiet as you both woke up, only a raspy “good morning” before you’d sit in silence over your bowls.
It had been a long time since you had such normalcy, and you’d be lying if you said you hated it.
“Hey,” he started, only half done chewing his cereal. “We have, like, two weeks left until we actually need to be in Seoul, right?”
You eyed him suspiciously for his cheery tone so early in the morning. Swallowing your food first, you nodded. “Yeah, but Chae wants us back at least two days before in case things need fixing or whatever.” Sipping your coffee, you raised a brow at him, “Why?”
Grinning at you, he leaned over to grab your arm in excitement. Your eyes darted to where you connected, noting how his thumb immediately started rubbing the inside of your wrist, making you cross your legs under the table. “Let’s make our trip back a road trip!”
You blinked. “Jake. You drove here—it was already going to be a road trip to go back.”
Jake threw his head back in a groan, inadvertently showing you his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down. You followed the movement down to his wide shoulders before looking away a second before he straightened up to meet eyes with you. “Dummy, I know that. Let’s make it a fun road trip with loads of stops and everything!” He talked animatedly, waving his hands with reckless abandon. “There are lots of small towns and pitstops on the way to Seoul, but we’ve never actually explored them.”
“How do you know I haven’t?”
Jake looked at you as if you had grown two heads. “If you have and I wasn’t invited, your best friend card is being revoked this instant. You hear me? Revoked.”
Laughing, you stood and grabbed both of your empty bowls. “Fine, we can have your fun road trip. You’re doing all the planning, though, since it was your idea.” You tilted his coffee mug toward you to see if he had finished it, placing it back where it was when you saw the brown liquid still swirling inside. He followed you to the sink, sleeves already rolled up when you placed the porcelain into the basin.
You didn’t say anything when he gently pulled you to the side and grabbed the sponge to start cleaning. “I already have the route!” He told you, not taking his eyes off the dishes. “It’s in my phone. You can look—it’s in the notes app.” Peaking at you through his lashes, he nodded his head in the general direction of where he left his phone. “Password’s still the same.”
You snorted, picking it up from the table before joining him at the sink, hopping up on the counter beside him. As you entered your birthyear into the phone, you didn’t catch the way he eyes your thighs, your shorts doing little to nothing to cover up the way they flattened slightly against the cool marble. “Y’know,” you started, ripping him out of his thoughts, ushering him to quickly place the bowls and spoons onto your drying rack. “This is a shitty password. You’re gonna get robbed one day.”
 He shrugged, pulling the hand towel off your oven’s handle to dry his hands. You watched him, silently ogling at the veins that popped out in his forearms when he turned to replace the towel. “Maybe, but it’s important to me.”
“My birth year?”
He grinned at you with a simple nod, standing between your thighs. His eyes fell to them once more when you absentmindedly spread your legs to give him room to stand. Biting the inside of his cheek, he shakily rested his palms on either side of you, moving slow enough for you to object if you were uncomfortable. "It's the year my favourite person was born, after all." You didn’t say anything, instead looking back at his phone screen.
He watched as your eyes flit back and forth as you read, his fingers itching to move closer to you, to touch your skin. He opted to curl his fingers until his nails dug into his palms. “When did you figure this out?” You asked, smiling at the title of the note.
Sweets and Jake’s Road Trip !!!
“Last night, while you slept.”
You shot him a look, searching for eye bags. You were relieved when you didn’t see any, but you punched his shoulder nonetheless. “Idiot. If you can’t sleep, you can wake me, you know? You don’t have to stay up by yourself.” You placed a hand on his forearm, rubbing your thumb over a jutting vein just as he had to you moments before.
His urge to touch you grew stronger, and he felt his mental fortitude crumbling at the contact. Clearing his throat, Jake shrugged. “You’re cute when you sleep, princess. Didn’t want to wake you.” Moving away before your scent could drive him any more insane, he rubbed the back of his neck. “So? What’s the verdict?”
Lips parted from his casual slip of a nickname you’d never heard from him before, you dumbly nodded. “Good. It’s good. Let’s do it.” You hopped down from the counter, Jake’s hands immediately moving to steady you once you got on your feet. “When do we leave?”
Jake grinned at you, revealing his canines. “Whenever you’re ready, sweets.”
You returned the smile, excitement starting to affect you. “Let’s get ready then, shall we?”
It didn’t take either of you very long to get your suitcases and essentials put together. Jake had mostly kept his things in his suitcase, only pulling out clothes he needed for the day or toiletries that you didn’t have any to spare. Two toothbrushes sat in a cup instead of the usual one, and the sight made you grin as you collected your things. Chaewon had your dress up in Seoul, so you didn’t need to worry about any of that either.
An hour after Jake proposed the road trip, he was waiting outside, one hand clasped over both of your luggage handles, the other holding Lemon’s carrier as you locked the door. The two of you walked out to his car in silence, the crisp morning air making you shiver under your thin jacket. “It’s still summer,” you complained in a long drawl, “why is it so fucking cold in the morning?”
Jake laughed at you, thanking you when you opened the back door of his car for him and carefully slid the luggage and carrier in. “Relax, princess, I’ll turn the heat on just for you, yeah?”
You grumbled at his teasing, taking your spot in the passenger seat without a word as he held the door open for you. You watched him jog around the car to reach his side, never taking your eyes off him as he fiddled with the A/C. As he turned the ignition on, he handed you his phone. “Put something on for me, will you?” 
As he drove, you noted the fact that he drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the middle console. His arms were exposed in the black tee he wore, seemingly not as affected by the cold as you were. You willed yourself not to notice how the shirt was unfairly form-fitting, wrapping around the bulk of his bicep in a way that was sending you spinning. 
The first stop was five minutes away from your apartment as Jake pulled into the parking lot of a nearby convenience store. Jake unrolled the windows a bit for Lemon, telling her to be good as the both of you exited the vehicle. Once inside, you shivered at how strong the store had its A/C running. 
Eyeing you, Jake sent you a smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll be quick.”
Without another word, you followed as Jake made his way through the different aisles, picking up snacks that you easily recognized as some of your favourites. Even grabbing a heat pack, he waved it at you teasingly. “Weirdo, needing a heat pack in the middle of August.”
You sputtered, “Wha— I never asked you to—”
Interrupting you with a bark of a laugh, he shook his head. “Just poking fun. C’mon, let’s go. Lemon’s probably waiting for us.” You huffed but didn’t argue as he pulled you to the front cashier by the hand. You trained your sight on your connected hands, moving them so your fingers interlaced. Jake briefly looked down at what you’d done, but if it bothered him, he didn’t say anything.
“Oh, it’s you!”
To both your surprise and Jake’s, the cashier’s eyes lit up when he saw you. “We had English together,” he filled in when you didn’t seem to recognize him. “We were in a group project together for the final?” You blinked a few times before making a noise of recognition.
“Riki! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with the new hair,” you explained, glancing at his newly dark brown hair. “It was blond before. Looks good now, though!” You gave him a thumbs up. Before he could reply beside you, Jake cleared his throat. Both you and Riki looked at him, realizing that the latter hadn’t even started ringing your items through, and there was a bit of a line behind you.
Riki immediately started scanning the snacks Jake had brought, never taking his eyes off you. “What’re you up to this summer? I haven’t seen you at all since the semester ended.”
You hummed, “My cousin’s wedding is in two weeks, so Jake and I—” You nudged him, not noticing how quiet he had gotten. “—are driving back to Seoul right after this.”
The younger boy nodded, glancing over at Jake before looking down at your hands. You forgot they were still intertwined, but Jake's grip tightened when you went to let go. You dropped your head to hide how warm your cheeks felt, biting your lip lightly. “Ah,” Riki put down the scanning gun, his tone noticeably less happy. “₩9000, please.”
Jake threw a few crumpled notes on the counter before bowing his head slightly in goodbye, tugging you toward the exit wordlessly. You waved at Riki over your shoulder before walking quickly to fall in step with Jake. “You okay? You were quiet in there, and then you pulled us out like that.”
Jake only nodded, carelessly tossing the bag of snacks into the back with your luggage. “Here,” he tossed you the heat pack, already cracked and warming up. He opened your door again without further explanation before taking his own seat.
You stared at his profile in confusion, the heat pack already doing its job on your frigid hands. As he pulled back onto the road, you glanced at his hand, which rested over the middle console as it had before.
Curiously, you turned his wrist until his palm was facing upward. Jake watched you from the corner of his eye, only turning his head when he reached a red light. He hadn’t expected you to put your hand in his, interlocking your fingers once again. “Your hands are warmer,” you mumbled, leaning back to get comfortable. In shock, Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.
Smiling tightly at him, you squeezed his hand. “The light’s green.”
Snapping his head forward, he coughed as he focused on the road. For the next while, your hand would stay in his. The ride to the next town was spent in silence, with you mouthing the lyrics to songs you recognized from his playlists. 
In Jake’s phone, he had written that you were to stay at motels in towns along the way. When you protested at the cost it would be, he simply argued with it’s for the experience, sweets. And no worries! I’m paying for the whole trip. And when you argued with that last bit, he only replied, if I see your wallet at all, I might have to fight you.
Your first real stop was in a small fishing village, the last coastal town you’d see before you started driving inland. The morning chill was gone, replaced with the comforting warmth of the summer sun. Despite that, you didn’t let go of Jake’s hand until you had to get out of the car. Stretching your limbs, you groaned when you felt and heard some joints pop. 
You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you took in the smell of the ocean and the distant chatter of nearby townspeople. The motel Jake brought you to was a little rundown; it was obvious that it had been around for quite some time. The paint was peeling a bit, and the shingles on the roof made it look dated, but it had a cozy feel to it. Besides, it was the only dog-friendly motel in the area, so you couldn’t afford to be choosy.
“Hello,” the old woman at the receptionist's desk greeted you kindly, eyes shifting from you to Jake. You smiled at her, bowing your head in respect. Besides you, Jake did the same with that easygoing grin of his. “How may I help you?”
“A room for two, please,” said Jake.
The woman nodded, looking over at the remaining room keys. Grabbing one, she handed it over to you before telling Jake how much it’d cost. As Jake fumbled with his wallet, the old woman looked at you fondly. “You two are precious,” she informed you with an air of nostalgia, her wrinkled hand resting atop her chest over her heart. “I remember when me and my late husband were your age.”
You blushed at her insinuation that you and Jake were together but found that the idea wasn’t as jarring as you thought it’d be. You couldn’t tell if Jake didn’t catch the comment or chose not to reply as he handed her the money she needed. 
It wasn’t hard to find your room out of the ten total, and you were pleased to see that the coziness of the outside continued inside. Jake wheeled your luggage in while you opened Lemon’s carrier, letting her roam free in the room, sniffing the foreign air. The room itself wasn’t too big, consisting of the main room that could only fit a single queen bed and not much else and a bathroom that was longer than it was wide. 
“It’s like we’re teens again,” you giggled at Jake, shrugging off your jacket. “We’re sharing beds often.”
Jake let out a breath at the realization that there really was only one bed again and nodded stiffly. He supposed that was his fault for not mentioning how many beds you needed. “I guess so,” he gazed at you tenderly. “You sure you don’t mind?”
You rolled your eyes at him, “You can cut the gentleman act with me, Jake. If I minded, I would’ve said something already. We shared a bed in my apartment, remember?”
Of course I remember, he thought, it was driving me crazy.
In truth, Jake hasn’t been able to sleep because of how cuddly you were in your sleep. He’d purposely lay as far as he could from you so as not to give in to any temptations, but it seemed like you had other plans whenever you laid your head to rest. Not two minutes after he’d heard your soft snores, your hands were reaching for him, pulling you closer to his torso until you were snuggled up against him. 
He may have only been staying with you for two days, but he’s had to take just as many cold showers before you woke up.
“Do you wanna go on a walk?” you asked once the two of you settled. Lemon sat by your feet, circling them by looping under the chair you sat on to entertain herself. “It’d be nice to venture out! I think poor Lemon’s a bit restless from the carrier.” You bent over to rub behind her ears, to which she let out a yip of approval.
Jake smiled softly at the sight before nodding. “Let’s go, then.”
Thankfully, Lemon was an off-leash dog and stayed close by as you walked the streets of an unfamiliar town. In the distance, seagulls cried out to each other as fishing boats pushed off from the harbour. The sound of the sea lulled you into a peaceful reverie. You and Jake walked side by side, fingers brushing against each other every so often.
“It’s nice here,” you mumbled, “we should have done this sooner.”
Jake hummed, the low noise rattling in your ears. You closed your eyes as you walked, fully trusting Jake to guide you if you were going to walk into anything. He smiled softly at the sight of your relaxed demeanour, moving to hold your hand. You walked in silence for a bit before you reached the shore. Jake spotted some beach chairs, pulling you along. Lemon bounded ahead, happy to have room to run. You cracked open your eyes in time to see her jump into the water, barking happily as she entertained herself.
“Next time, you should bring Layla,” you suggested as you sat down. 
Jake smiled down at your hands. “Yeah, next time.”
Silence fell upon you, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You both watched Lemon as she played in the water, occasionally coming up to bring you a rock she had found before hopping back into the puddles the tide was creating. All the while, your hands stayed clasped, with Jakes's thumb rubbing familiar circles on the back of your palm.
“Why did you move so far?”
You halted, your smile slipping. “You asked me already.”
“But you weren’t being completely truthful with me.” He looked at you, concern shining in his eyes. “You’re not over it, are you?”
The topic dampened your mood, your heart rate rising as you avoided eye contact. “I told you already, Jake. I don’t love Heeseung anymore. I’m fine,” you pressed, lying through your teeth. Lying to Jake always left a bitter taste in your mouth, as you knew he could tell immediately that it wasn’t the truth. “What kind of cousin would I be if I were still in love with her groom-to-be?”
Jake’s frown deepened. “You have the right to be hurt—”
“But I’m not! So drop it.” Your outburst garnered the attention of a few townspeople who were out and about, causing you to flush in embarrassment. Lowering your voice, you stared down at the rocky beach, digging your dirtied trainers into the course sand. “I’m fine.”
Unbelieving, Jake continued, “It’s just… I thought you had enough reason to stay.”
His words made you look up, annoyed at how much he was pressing the topic on you. “Clearly, I didn’t.” Shaking your head, you dropped his hand before standing to your feet and dusting off imaginary dirt from your pants. You looked down at him, a mistake as you were forced to look at his hurt expression, lip trembling as he stared up at you open-mouthed. “I’m going back.”
He only watched your back as you walked away, beckoning Lemon to follow. The poor puppy got out of the water, shaking off the excess. She ran toward you but paused and looked back at Jake. She tilted her head as if she were asking Aren’t you coming? before running after you.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, shellshocked, until he realized that the sun was starting to set. Deciding he had been out there long enough, Jake slowly made his way back to the motel. When he got to your room, he hesitated, knowing that you could easily lock him out for the night if you were still upset with him since you had the only key.
Jake stood there, mulling over whether or not he should try knocking, but before he could even decide, the door opened. He was met with you, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “Don’t just stand there,” you opened the door more for him to come in. His heart broke at the sight of you and at how wet your voice sounded, as if you had just finished crying.
“Sweets, I’m sorry—” 
You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him. “No, you did… you did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have exploded at you like that or left you alone out there.” You looked down in shame, gnawing at your bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Jake.”
He was quick to lift your chin with two fingers, keeping them there as he rested his other hand on your upper arm. “Hey, no, none of that. I shouldn’t have pushed you when you obviously didn’t want to talk about it.” He pushed your hair behind your ear before bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head before muttering in your ear, “I’m sorry, sweets. I promise I won’t ask about it until you tell me you’re ready.”
You let go of the hug, but Jake kept you close in his arms. Looking into his eyes with welled-up tears, you pouted slightly, bringing his gaze downward. “You’re sure you’re not upset with me?”
“With you, never, sweets.”
You opened your mouth but closed it before you could say anything. Hugging him again, your voice came out muffled. “Wanna sleep.”
Jake chuckled at you, dropping his head in disbelief. “Okay.”
Not long after, you were both situated in bed, with Lemon lying at your feet like usual. As he had for nights before, Jake kept his distance, but you quickly changed that. For the first time, you cuddled up to him while you were awake, fully aware of your actions. Jake’s breath halted as he felt you nuzzle your face into the soft fabric of his tee, which smelt so strongly of him that it was all you could smell. “I love you,” you whispered into his skin, sending his brain into a frenzy. “You’re the bestest friend I could’ve ever asked for.”
Jake could practically hear the record screech in his head, gritting his teeth a bit before relaxing his jaw to leave another soft kiss against your temple. “I love you too, sweets.”
The day had exhausted him more than he’d realized. For the first time in two days, Jake found himself falling asleep right after you, holding you tightly against his chest.
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You awoke to the feeling of something warm attached to your neck. A quiet moan escaped your lips when the something bit down. You felt large hands explore the expanse of your side, your sleeping shirt pushed far up. Something hard poked against your thigh as you angled your head upward.
Your eyes fluttered open as you realized it was Jake, groaning as he nipped at your skin, leaving behind blossoms of red and purple. You moved your hips closer to his, gasping when his growing hard-on made contact with your clothed sex. “Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me,” he uttered, his deep voice going straight to your groin. Your panties, you were sure, were already soaked with your slick.
“Please,” you whined as he bit down harder, and his hand roamed higher, tracing the curve of the underside of your breast with his fingers. His mouth felt oh-so-hot on your skin, and his teasing touch did little to alleviate it. “Show me, Jake. Show me what I do to you.”
He pulled back, ignoring the noise of disappointment you made. His eyes looked impossibly dark as he hovered over you, chest heaving. “Be careful what you wish for, pretty girl.” He easily flipped you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. You moaned loudly when he ground his hips against yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he’d gotten. 
His lips met yours in a hungry kiss, tongue forcing itself past your lips to lick into your mouth. His hands moved wildly, pushing your shirt up until your breasts were fully uncovered, nipples pebbling in exposure to the cold air. “So beautiful,” he groaned into your ear as one hand kneaded your left breast. “Fuck, gonna make you mine, yeah? You want that?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed pathetically, a sob of need ripping through your throat as his free hand made its way to your shorts. “Please, Jake, need you so badly.”
He groaned again, pushing past the elastic waistband and guiding his fingers into your soaked panties. He moved down to collect your wetness and…
You breathed in harshly when you woke up, your heart racing faster than it ever had before. You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness of the room, remembering where you were. Your chest heaved as you tried to calm yourself down, your face burning. Oh my god, you thought in slight mortification.
Jake’s arm rested over your middle, you realized, as he spooned you from behind. Your startle hadn’t woken him, his soft snores sounding in your ear canals. You were relieved that he wasn’t awake to ask why you woke up so violently because how were you to explain that it was because you were having a wet dream about him?
The dull feeling of disappointment had settled into your gut from having been interrupted before the dream could get good, a feeling that came with shame at how indisputable your horniness was. You’d never dreamed of Jake in such a light, but now you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to rid yourself of the sight of his eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure as he ground against you—
No. You need to stop.
Turning your head to groan into the pillow, you became hyper-aware of how wet you were, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your pussy. You pressed your legs together, silently willing the pulsing of your clit to calm down and let you fall asleep again. If you fall asleep, you might forget about this in the morning.
“Stop moving,” Jake’s tired voice scared you, making you jump. He used his arm to pull you closer against him, your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from making any noise. Not long after, you heard his deep breaths again, signalling that he’d fallen asleep. 
Fuck, you were screwed. You closed your eyes tightly, but all you could think about was how firm and warm he felt. Pressed against him like this, you could almost feel everything. From his tone chest and legs to his soft length, pressing against your backside. His gray sweats and your flimsy shorts barely acted as a barrier between you. Stretching your legs out, you realize that Lemon had hopped off the bed at some point, likely to sleep in her carrier.
Without thinking, your shaky hand made its way down your front, actively avoiding his arm. You bit your lip harshly as you slipped a finger underneath your shorts, listening carefully to ensure he wasn’t awake. This is crazy, you have never thought of doing something so indecent in front of Jake, but the idea was sending you into a frenzy. 
You fingertip made contact with your slit, and you had to stop yourself from moaning aloud at just how wet you were. Slowly, you rubbed circles around your clit, jolting slightly at the initial contact. Maybe it was from the dream or the fact that Jake was right there, but you felt more sensitive than usual, holding in whimpers with every movement.
“F-fuck,” you accidentally let out, screwing your eyes shut as you moved your hand faster. In the quiet stillness of the night, you could hear your slick with every flick of your wrist. If Jake woke up, there’d be no question to what you were doing, but the thought only spurred you on more.
Using your other hand to grope yourself over your shirt, you teased your entrance, easily inserting a finger. It wasn’t enough, your finger failing to fill you up how you know Jake’s would, a thought that forced out a rather loud moan.
Realizing how loud you were, you paused and listened to his breathing. Before you could even register that his breaths weren’t as deep as they were before, his arm tightened around you.
“Naughty fucking girl,” he hissed into your ear, pulling your hand out of your panties. You didn’t have time to feel humiliated before he rolled you onto your back, his thighs pressing into your waist as he sat on top of you. The look he gave you was just like the one he had in your dream, eyes dark and pupils full-blown, eyebrows furrowed together in desperate need.
“Touching yourself like that while my arm’s around you,” he spat, leaning until he was mere inches away from your face. “Thinking I wouldn’t wake up. Needed me that badly, yeah?”
It was clear that you were shocked, wide-eyed and jaw agape. Not once in your lifetime of friendship with Jake had you seen this feral side to him. You felt his hardening length when he pressed his hips down and groaned. “Come on, sweets. I know you’re smarter than that. You can answer me with words like a big girl.”
You smacked your lips together in disbelief before nodding slowly. “Yeah,” you stuttered. “Need you so bad, Jake.” Your own words surprised you, his boldness rubbing off on you. “Dreamt of you,” you confessed.
Jake raised a brow at you, laying his hand flat on your side. “Yeah? Was I touching you,” he used his hand to push up your shirt, moving faster than his dream counterpart had and groping at your breast, flicking his thumb over the hardening bud. “Like this?”
Nodding fervently, you bit your lip to hold in your moans as he handled you. He clicked his tongue using his other hand to pull at your bottom lip until it was released from your teeth. “Wanna hear you, princess. You had no problem moaning while I was asleep. Unfair to hide them in front of me now, isn’t it?”
He bent down to take your other nipple in his hot mouth, his searing tongue darting out to circle the sensitive bud. His eyes never left yours, watching your expressions as you arched your back to his ministrations. He let go of your nipple, only to blow cold air on it, making you whimper. “What else did I do, pretty?” He asked, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Did I make you feel good?”
“Fuck,” you cried when he thrust his hips against you, giving you a hint as to what was to come. “Made me feel so good, Jake.” You threw your head back as he continued, shallowly thrusting against your clothed core. You weakly pointed at your neck. “Kissed me here,” you sighed when he leaned forward to leave kitten licks against your neck, nipping gently at the skin. “And…”
He bit down on the skin under your ear, using his tongue to soothe the mark before kissing up to your earlobe. “And?” His deep voice resonated within you, making you shiver.
“And then you…” You trailed off, instead opting to run a hand down your front to the waistband of your shorts, not missing the way his eyes followed. “Touched me here.” Tapping over your clothed clit, you avoided his gaze out of shyness, still in disbelief of this situation. “Then I woke up.” Your voice was weak, doused in lust and need for the man in front of you.
He smirked at you, moving back so he could pull your shorts off, leaving you in your oversized tee—an old shirt of his he’d given you before you moved—and your soaked baby blue panties. Even in the dark, he could see how wet you were, the thought making him groan as he palmed himself over his sweats at the sight of you. 
“Poor baby,” he sighed, though you heard no actual sympathy in his tone. “Couldn’t get off in your dream, so you touched yourself like a whore in front of me.” You squirmed at his vulgarity, his words sending shockwaves to your clenching pussy. Shifting his body down the bed so he was laying between your thighs, he left kisses up and down the sensitive skin there. His tongue traced a line from your knee up to where you truly wanted him before stopping right before your panties. His mouth wrapped around your skin as he bit down, hard enough to sting but not hard enough to really hurt.
When he pulled away, a dark hickey had formed. “Shit,” he groaned, “God, I love marking you up.” He looked back up at you, resting on your elbows so you could watch him. “Gonna leave marks all over, yeah? Then you’ll know who made you feel good, pretty girl.”
Mindlessly, you nodded, wanting him to do anything he wanted with you. His every word made you feel impossibly wet, almost embarrassingly so.
Without missing a beat, he kissed your clit over your panties, making you whimper as you thrust your hips up toward his face. “Patience, baby,” he mumbled, tonguing you through the thin fabric of your underwear. “Gonna make you feel good.” Using his teeth, he pulled your panties down, your slick stringing along as he got them to your knees before using his hands to pull them off completely. 
The sight of your exposed cunt, wet and clenching around nothing, made Jake crazy. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted with a groan before he dove into your pussy, licking up your slick. He drew figure-eights over your clit before closing his lips around it and sucking, making you cry out. You felt his long fingers poke at your entrance, the stimulation leaving you a mess of moans and whimpers.
When two of his fingers pushed past your entrance, you both groaned at the feeling of him sliding inside your gummy walls. His tongue worked at your clit as he slowly scissored his fingers inside you, all while watching your reactions. “So hot,” you gasped, clawing at the bed sheets. “Fuck, Jake, gonna…” You cut yourself off, moaning loudly, when he started moving his fingers faster.
“Cum for me, sweets.” His demand seemingly made you snap as you came around his fingers in an instant. He closed his eyes as his jaw dropped in a groan, relishing the feeling of you clenching tightly around his fingers. He slowly took them out, biting his lip at how wet you were. The whine you let out once you were empty would live in his mind for the rest of his days, he decided, as he moved up the bed to come eye to eye with you.
You watched as he sucked his fingers clean of your wetness before leaning in and kissing you harshly. The taste of him mixed with your juices made you moan, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt tightly. He bit your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly before kissing you deeply once more. Your lips slotted together with ease, like two puzzle pieces.
He felt your hand travel down his stomach to the strings of his sweatpants, leaning back to watch as you undid the knot before pulling them down in a swift motion. He sat up to kick the garment off, before returning to his spot between your thighs. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, hunger in your gaze as you inspected his cock, hard against his stomach. It was red, needy and weeping, one pronounced vein running along his shaft. More importantly, he was thick—thicker than any toys you had bought on a whim.
When you looked up at him, he must’ve caught your fear as he cupped your face in his warm palm. Kissing you gently, he brushed your hair back. “We don’t need to go any further if you don’t want us to,” he assured you, even though the hardness of his length said otherwise. “We’ll only go as far as you want to.”
You bit your lip, “Then…” Without another word, you closed a fist around his shaft, watching his eyes widen. “I want to make you feel good, too,” you whispered. You collected some of his precum, using it to glide your hand up and down at a torturous pace, your eyes never leaving his face.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hot breaths fan over your skin, leaving goosebumps, and he moaned in your ear. His arms were braced on either side of your head, his scent invading your senses as you touched him. “Doing so well for me,” he hushed, kissing at your neck. He nudged your jawline with his nose, sucking down on your jugular. “Shit,” his hips stuttered, thrusting up into your grasp. “Go faster for me, yeah?”
You nodded, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you picked up speed. Using your other hand to grasp his balls, you delighted in the way he groaned a little louder, your name slipping from his lips wantonly. Leaning forward, you bit down on his shoulder, flicking your tongue out just as he had before. With your lips on him, he moaned your name once more, fucking up into your hand with reckless abandon. He swore lowly as his hips stilled, ropes of thick cum spilling from his cock and onto your hands and shirt.
He stayed there momentarily, catching his breath before hovering a bit higher to watch you. Inspecting your hand, you brought it to your lips. His eyes never left your tongue as he watched it dart out to catch any drops of his seed. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he sighed once you finished, wiping off any remains on your soiled tee. He pulled the tee over your head before giving you his own, still warm from being worn. 
“Go to sleep, sweets,” he mumbled against your temple as he settled in next to you. “We’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”
Your morning talk ended up with his tongue between your thighs in the shower as you struggled to keep yourself up, one leg over his shoulder. You were sure the people in the rooms next to you could hear your cries when you came on his tongue for the nth time, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 
Once he thought you had cum an adequate amount of times, he carefully set you down, massaging your aching thighs as he kissed you gently. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. Taking the opportunity, you pecked his lips before reaching for the body wash, giggling.
You never ended up talking about it, getting distracted by Lemon, who whined at the door when you finally came out of the bathroom. 
The rest of the road trip went similarly. You’d hold hands as he drove to your next destination, and then you’d get each other off in your motel rooms until the motel owners eventually kicked you out for disturbances. Between towns, you’d talk as if he wasn’t just knuckles deep in your heat or as if you didn’t just have his cock shoved down your throat as he fucked your face.
Words that needed to be spoken never were. Your fearful thoughts kept you from initiating the conversation that could very well destroy years of friendship with Jake.
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ONE DAY.
Finally, you had made it to Seoul. Unfortunately, a flat tire in the middle of nowhere stopped you from getting there two days before, as Chaewon wanted. Luckily, nothing did go wrong and everything seemed to be ready for tomorrow.
Tired from the long trip, both emotionally and physically, Jake offered his house for you to stay at. Without thinking, you said yes. You took his keys and unlocked the door as Jake grabbed your things from the car, Lemon pushing past your feet and into the house, eager to explore.
As she made her way around, her nails against the hardwood floor indicating where she was, you and Jake pushed your luggage into the living room before collapsing onto the couch.
“I’m so happy to be home,” he sighed, stretching his limbs. “As fun as road trips are, nothing beats sleeping in your own bed.” Glancing over at you, a million thoughts raced in his mind, but he pushed them away. He wanted to talk about what you were, the frequent hookups making his brain mush. But he could read you—he always could. You’ve always been so emotive that you made it easy, but he had your habits memorized. He knew exactly when you didn’t want to do something and that you weren’t ready for talking.
So he didn’t say anything, even though he knew it might hurt him in the long run.
Unlike your apartment or the many motels you stayed at over your trip, Jake actually had two beds. The thought of sleeping in separate rooms felt so foreign, but he told you anyway. You hummed, “Maybe I should sleep in the guest room then.” You grinned at him, “You’re probably tired of having to share a bed with me by now.”
Never, he thought.
That night, he lay in his too-empty bed, restless. Knowing you were in the same house, with only a thin wall separating you, was driving him mad. Not having you next to him, curled up against his side, drove him mad. His hand clenched around the bedsheets, where you would’ve been if you had taken up his silent plea to sleep in the same room as him.
In that moment, Jake realizes just how screwed he really is. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he quietly swore into the empty room, his heart aching. Jake had gotten so used to being so close to you, to have you by his side as he pleasured you, your high-pitched cries echoing in his ears. He knew it wouldn’t last forever and that he’d have to drive you home a few days after the wedding. Then, he didn’t know how long it’d be until he saw you again.
He wonders if everything that happened will get brushed under the rug. God, he hoped not. 
Just as he decided he’d need some sleep for the wedding tomorrow, he heard something through the wall. He held his breath, straining his ears to hear the noise's source. Before long, he realized it was you, your short breaths easily passing through the wall, the sound of your slick ringing clear as day to him.
Without another thought, he ripped off his blanket and made his way to the guest room. To his surprise, you hadn’t even closed your door, his eyes blessed with the sight of you atop the bed. Neither the blankets nor the sheets were disturbed, making it clear that you hadn’t even gotten comfortable before you started. He watched in a daze as your fingers plunged in and out of your hole, your face contorted into one of drunken pleasure.
He felt himself grow hard as he stepped closer. You whimpered out his name as you rubbed harsh circles over your clit, and something inside Jake snapped.
“You must love fucking torturing me,” he rasped, roughly pulling your fingers out of your pussy and pinning your hands to the bed, leaving your body fully exposed to him. “Always touching yourself in front of me like a slut. You knew what you were doing, leaving your door open.” When you turned your head away in feigned humiliation, he used his free hand to forcibly turn your cheek. His nails dug into your jaw as he forced you to look at him.
“Do you know how crazy you make me feel?” He asked, but he narrowed his eyes at you when you went to answer. “Do you know how fucking long I’ve wanted to see you like this? Needy and begging for my cock?” His words shut up, the implication of something more making your heart race.
“Do you know how hard it’s been for me to stop myself from making you mine every night we’re together?” He growled, letting go of your hands to push your legs up against your chest. “Do you know how hard it is to refrain from kissing you every time you look at me with that look in your eye?”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him in for a kiss, your lips meeting in a fight for dominance. His hands pushed you deeper against the bed as he pressed himself against you. His patience was wearing thin as he pulled away, only to pull off his shirt before he leaned in again. Your lips, your taste—all of you was addicting to Jake.
“Jake,” you moaned out when he attacked your neck, adding to the healing bruises from before. “‘M ready now. Please, please, make me yours,” you begged, spreading your legs wider for emphasis.
If he wasn’t hard before, he was now at your plea, a growl stuck at the back of his throat at the thought of fucking you like how he’s wanted to. “You sure, princess?” he asked, leaning back to look you in the eye.
“I’ve never been more sure,” you gasped, eyes darting from his left to right. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”
Jake only shook his head, pulling you in for another deep kiss. Jake swallowed your moans, a feeling of possessiveness taking over him as he fondled your breasts. “All mine,” he hissed, “you’re mine.”
He made quick work of his sleep shorts, the garment getting thrown across the room into some corner to be found in the morning. His cock was pretty as ever, and your hands instinctively went to grab at it. “Next time, baby,” he rasped, “Need to take you now.”
You cried out when you felt the tip of his length nudge against your folds, collecting your juices as he ran his cock up and down your cunt. A broken whimper of his name ripped through your throat when he bumped your clit, his own deep moan shaking in his chest. He felt like he was losing his mind, the warmth of your pussy felt so good against his shaft, and he hadn’t even entered you yet.
You felt him line himself up at your entrance, and you tensed. Noticing, Jake left gentle kisses against your shoulder. “I’ll take care of you, pretty, just lay back, yeah?”
You nodded but felt hot tears well up in your eyes as he pushed past your entrance, a stinging burn erupting between your legs. He moved slowly, but inch by inch, the burn became more intense. “It’ll hurt more when you’re this tense, baby,” he whispered, massaging your right breast in hopes of distracting you. His lips met yours in a kiss more gentle than any that preceded it. Screwing your eyes shut, tears beaded at the corners of your eyes before they fell, disappearing into your hairline. He kissed your temple when he finally bottomed out after what felt like years. “Doing so well for me, sweets.”
He stilled for a few minutes despite wanting nothing more but to drill into you. Leaving kisses all over your face and neck, he observed as your face relaxed more and more. “You can move now,” you whispered, out of breath.
“Yeah? Trust me?”
“Mhm,” you closed your eyes—the sting had disappeared, and now you just felt stuffed. “I trust you, Jake.”
Your admittance made his head spin as he dropped his head onto your shoulder. Slowly, he pulled out until just the tip was inside before thrusting into you. A low moan rumbled in your chest as Jake sucked at your neck. He repeated the motion, rocking into you slowly until you got used to it.
After a while, the pain turned to pleasure as you clenched around him, making him gasp against your skin. “Faster, please,” you begged, linking your ankles around his back. “Need you.”
Just as you asked, Jake upped his pace, moving steadily. He sat back gripping your waist as he thrust into you. He watched for your reactions, eyes darting from your scrunched up face to the bouncing of your breasts down to the jiggle of your thighs with each thrust. His speed picked up until he was pistoling into you, broken moans pushing past your lips as his hips slapped against yours.
The sound of your wetness was so obscene, if you were in a normal state of mind you would’ve been embarrassed. But the drag of his cock against your walls and the way his pelvic bone grazed your clit every time he bottomed out was deliciously addicting.  “Feels so fucking good,” Jake moaned, “you’re gripping me so tightly—fuck!—gonna make me cum, princess.” Falling forward, he braced himself on one arm, reaching for your puffy clit with the other. He rubbed fast cirlces on your clit as he pounded into you, the sound of skin against skin turning you on more. You willed yourself to keep your eyes open, to bask in the sight of Jake slowly losing control of his movements as he got closer to his own release.
The sight of him hunched over you, eyes glassy as he furrowed his brows in concentration, beads of sweat dripping from his hairline, causing his blond hair to stick to his forehead, was so fucking hot. You gripped at his arms, muscles bulging as he struggled to keep himself up.
You felt an orgasm fast approaching, your own whines coming out higher and higher. “Fu—ck, Jake,” you swore, “I’m so close, please, I—”
At your words, Jake’s hips moved faster, hitting the spot that made you see stars over and over again. “You look so beautiful like this,” he uttered breathlessly. “Fuck, I love you.” The words spilled from his lips unintentionally, the way your walls clenched around him knocked any sense of thought out of him, his only coherent thought being to make you cream around his cock.
His words echoed in your brain as you came with a cry of his name. The feeling of you cumming sent Jake into overdrive as he pistoned into you, overstimulating you as he chased his release. After a moment, he stilled, coming inside of your cavern. You felt his release paint your walls white, bringing you into a second orgasm.
He stayed inside you for a while, hovering over your tired body as he caught his breath. Eventually, he pulled out, his cum spilling from your clenching hole, making him sigh in pleasure at the sight. He kissed your temple before moving to get off the bed. You watched, spent, as he searched for his shirt in the dark, the hallway light dimly illuminating the room. For a second, you were scared that he was just going to go back to his own room, but after he found the shirt, he came back to your side. Wordlessly, he wiped you clean, even wiping at the beads of sweat that accumulated on your skin.
Tired, he let himself collapse beside you, pulling you against his chest.
“Did you mean it?” you asked in a small voice.
“Hmm?”
“When… When you said you loved me.”
You felt him tense under you for a second before relaxing. His arms held you tighter against his chest, letting you listen to his rapid heartbeat.
“Yeah.” He paused, the cogs in his brain turning as he searched for the right words to say. Nothing he came up with seemed right; he opted to stay silent and waited for your response. When it didn’t come, he looked down at you, only to be met with your sleeping face. He sighed, his breath shaky as his eyes burned. He pressed a single kiss on the crown of your head. “Good night, sweets.”
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THREE HOURS.
Chaewon had been spamming your phone, the distinct buzzing of each message waking you up. Jake slept through the sound of you typing, exhausted from the night before.
Where are you???? Get your ass here NOW before I come and get you myself
Are you even awake? 
Girl, if you’re not here in the next hour I’ll punt you into the next century
Swearing, you carefully slipped out of Jake’s grasp. When he didn’t stir, you shook him gently. He mumbled incoherently, wrapping his arms around your middle as he deeply inhaled your scent. “Jake, we gotta’ wake up now. Chaewon’s having a cow and I don’t think we want to upset the bride today.”
At your words, Jake murmured something you couldn’t hear before finally peeling himself off you, looking at you with sleepy eyes and messy hair. “Wha’ time isit?” he slurred, stretching his arm.
“It’s twelve, so we have to go. Like, now.”
Thankfully, that seemed to wake Jake up, and he sat up quickly. “Damn, okay,” he pushed his hair back. “Get changed and everything, and I’ll meet you at the door.”
You watched as he leaped off the bed, picking up his soiled clothes from the floor. He made his way to his own room, and you heard the shower turn on. In the time it took for you to brush your teeth and get changed, Jake had showered and hastily shoved on some comfy clothes, his attire being left with Heeseung as well.
The drive to the hotel where the bridal and groom's parties were getting ready was quiet, partially from sleepiness and partially because of the unfinished conversation from last night, filling the air with thick tension. His hand rested on the middle console, palm up, but you didn’t take it.
When you got to the hotel, you were quickly ushered to your respective rooms by other bridesmaids and groomsmen. Jake could only watch as you disappeared behind a room door before getting shoved into one himself.
He didn’t see you again until later, when the wedding was about to start, and the pairs were meant to walk down the aisle. Since you were Chaewon’s maid of honour and Jake was Heeseung’s best man, you were paired together. When you finally saw him, you felt the air leave your lungs. His hair was styled so it was out of his face, save for a few strands that hooked over his forehead. His suit was entirely dark blue, from his blazer to his tie, and it made him look unfairly handsome.
Your mouth felt dry as you linked arms with him, listening for your cue to walk.
Unbeknownst to you, he felt similar. You looked stunning in your baby blue satin dress, and he thought it hugged your curves in such a way that he almost wanted to cover you up so only he could see you like this. His heart pounded in his chest at your touch. 
“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you waited, making the couples behind you snicker. You blushed, your face warming as you rubbed your lips together anxiously.
“As do you,” you mumbled, looking into his eyes shyly. “You look really good.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but the doors opened up, and that was your cue. The venue was gorgeous, as expected since Chaewon planned most of it. The sight of the aisle and the altar made your heart soar for her, and you absentmindedly rubbed at your own ring finger the closer you and Jake got to the end of the aisle.
You sent him a smile before you retreated to your respective spots. As the rest of the couples and the flower girl made their way down the aisle, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on Jake. You wondered how you looked, staring over at the best man when there were so many things you should’ve been paying attention to.
Clearing your throat, you looked forward.
When you finally saw Heeseung, your heart clenched. You fisted the fabric of your dress as you watched him wait for his bride-to-be. This motion didn’t go unseen by Jake, whose jaw clenched.
When Chaewon appeared from behind the door, the room erupted into cheers as everyone stood. Tears sprang to your eyes as you watched your cousin, veiled, take small steps closer to her future husband. You knew your makeup was going to be ruined by the end of the night, but you couldn’t help but cry once she reached Heeseung. You glanced at him once more before staring down at your heeled feet.
The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch, Chaewon and Heeseung’s beautiful vows leaving everyone in tears. You had even caught Jake wiping away some stray tears. You watched with a sense of longing as Chaewon and Heeseung made their way down the aisle. You didn’t realize that Jake had been staring at you the whole time, not even when it was your turn to walk out.
The banquet was to start half an hour later. You and Jake had gotten separated in the commotion outside of the venue hall. You heard him call out to you, but you couldn’t see him over the large, bustling crowd of wedding guests. Knowing that you’d see him at the banquet, you slipped further into the crowd until you found a balcony. Peaking your head out, you let out a breath of relief when there was no one there.
The sun was setting, casting an orange hue over everything it touched. A beautiful sight, you thought as you leaned against the railing. You closed your eyes as you thought back on the wedding. It had been the exact wedding the Chaewon had planned years ago, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to be truly happy. How could you, after all, after watching Heeseung look at Chaewon with such love and adoration? 
When someone called your name, you turned around to see Jake standing there, slightly unkempt from the crowd. “I finally found you,” he heaved, gesturing back to the hall that was still full of busy wedding goers. “Man, the banquet is literally in the room over from the wedding hall—they couldn’t be a little more patient in moving over?” He shook his head in mock disbelief as he joined you.
He looked at you, ready to make a joke, but paused when he saw your face. His smile dropped as he turned to face you fully. “You’re crying,” he noted, cupping your cheek. You blinked in surprise, having not noticed how tears had welled up in your eyes. “What’s wrong, sweets?”
You turned around, pulling your face out of his grasp, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I don’t know,” you murmured, voice breaking. “I just… when I saw them—”
“Is it Heeseung?”
His cold, clipped tone shocked you. When you looked at him in confusion, his expression had hardened. “What—”
“Why does seeing him with her still hurt you? I thought you were fine,” his words were level, but you heard the slight tremble of his voice.”You said you moved on.” 
Sputtering, you turned to him with an indignant glare. “Jake, it’s not that easy—”
Scoffing, he took a step back from you. “So what? The last two weeks meant nothing to you? Last night meant nothing to you? I…” He gripped at his hair, stressed. “I told you I loved you, and you’re still crying over Heeseung?”
It dawned on you how he perceived your words, and an unsettling fear grabbed at you as you went to explain yourself. “What? Jake, no, I’m not—”
He gave you no room to speak, interrupting you hastily, words tumbling from his lips as though he had no control of them. “I have always loved you,” he confessed, voice breaking. “Ever since we were kids, for me, it’s always been you. I came to you because I love you. I spent these last two weeks with you because I love you, and I want nothing more than for you to see me as more than a best friend or… or someone who’s convenient for you.” You watched in horror as his eyes watered, stepping forward to grab his arm to explain, but he ripped his arm away from your grasp. “I can see now that you never will.”
“Jake, wait—!” Your cry fell on empty ears as he turned to leave you alone on the balcony, his back feeling unreachable as he reached for the doorknob to go back inside. At this point, the crowd in the hall had dispersed, and you were sure the banquet was starting. But none of that mattered—what mattered was stopping Jake from leaving before you could tell him the truth.
Swallowing your fears, you called out his full name. You sighed in relief when he paused, but your hands shook at your sides as you forced your next words out. “He made me feel like I was unlovable,” you uttered, voice just barely above a whisper. For a second, you were worried he hadn’t heard you, but he turned his head slightly. Finding the courage to continue, you stepped forward. “I’m not… I don’t love Heeseung, Jake. I haven’t loved Heeseung for a really fucking long time.”
But what happened between us gave me all of these terrible thoughts that I didn’t…. That I don’t know how to handle. I thought I was perfectly fine dealing with my insecurities on my own before you came.” He turn his head more, allowing you to see his profile. You saw him open his mouth, ready to retort, but you narrowed your eyes at him. “Sim Jaeyun, if you interrupt me again, I’ll kick your ass.” Your threat wasn’t all that threatening, considering the fact that you were near to tears, but he listened and shut his mouth.
“When you showed up at my apartment, I thought I was going mad. You made me feel like that. It was suddenly so different between us and I didn’t know what to do. You kept saying these things like you were trying to fluster me, and I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine or if my fucked up mind was just creating scenarios where you might actually love me.” Tears were freely falling now, smudging your eye makeup and leaving its trail in your foundation. You stepped closer to Jake, who had fully turned to face you. You stopped, leaving a few meters between you as if you were scared of crossing an invisible boundary.
“Last night was the best night of my life. And every time before that, you made me feel complete and made me so happy, Jake. You made me feel… normal. It felt like I was myself again for the first time in months, but there was something else there, too.” You looked into his eyes, unable to tell what he was thinking. You swallowed thickly, “I don’t love Heeseung, and you’re a fool if you think I do. But it’s so fucking hard to shake off the feeling that at any point you could find someone better, someone who’s prettier, or—”
Jake was quick to close the distance between you, his lips downturned into a scowl as he glowered at you. “Just shut up already,” he spat, cupping your face in his hands and bringing his lips to yours. You felt a thousand times lighter as you kissed him back with the same fervour as him, your tears mixing into the kiss. He dropped a hand to rest on your hip, bringing you flush against him. Once he pulled away, you were both breathless. He rested his forehead against yours as his shoulders rose and fell quickly.
When he finally opened his eyes, gone was the pain and hurt. Now, when he looked at you, he looked with adoring eyes. “I love you,” he whispered. “You might not believe me yet, but just know that whenever I look at you, all I see is the person I want to spend my life with. There isn’t anyone better or prettier—there’s only you.”
He met your eyes before kissing you again. 
You looked into his eyes once you pulled away, a thousand thoughts swirling behind your irises. “I love you,” you breathed out. You reached for his hand, interlocking your fingers together as you smiled tearfully at him. “Help me believe you.”
Jake laughed in disbelief, bringing you close to his chest.
“We have all the time in the world to get there, sweets.”
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©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months ago
Text
Bad for Me — Cassian x Reader
Hi! I found this in my drafts and thought I’d share it while I’m finishing up the next part of Bluebird. I’m not sure why I never posted it 🤔maybe because I don’t think it’s very well written. Also, it seems I was using a prompt list for parts of dialogue in this, but I can’t for the life of me think which one it was 😅but anyway, enjoy an angsty piece with an angsty cliffhanger ending 💅🏻
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: None.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
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“What the fuck is this?”
There wasn’t a part of you that didn’t shake with anger as you stormed your way into the sitting room. Anger that had built up and festered as the day had faded into night.
It was late. You’d waited up — waited for the telltale, arrogantly loud footsteps that had announced Cassian’s return. Where he’d been all day, you didn’t know nor care.
Sure enough, you found him in his usual chair by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey rested on the arm and his eyes closed. His fingers rubbed circles into his forehead — a positive sign that he was sporting a particularly gruelling headache.
Good. You would yell into his ear until he launched himself off one of the verandas and flew far, far away.
“What is this?” You repeated, chucking the item you held straight onto his lap.
His eyes slowly opened, and he glanced down impassively. “That’s a piece of paper. It’s useful for writing, or drawing, or—”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
It had surprised you, to say the least, to wake up to the folded note on your bedside table — in Cassian’s rough scrawl.
Find yourself a pretty little dress. Don’t make any plans for Friday next. We’re going dancing. Cassian.
“Explain.” You demanded, your tone clipped. Brash.
You didn’t want to go dancing with Cassian. Or walking, or running, or…anything.
It was bad enough living under the same roof as him. Working in the same circle as him. Bad enough having to be civil in the name of a unified front.
But you were professional. You could pretend to get along in front of people.
That didn’t mean you had to socialise with him, though.
With a sigh, he sat up straighter, brushing his hair back. “Rhys is having me play courtier again.”
Your head cocked to the side. “But you’re so terrible at it.”
The minuscule pause and tick of his jaw told you you’d landed a sure blow. A nervy spot, for Cassian, was certainly his abilities off the battlefield. Why Rhys insisted on sending the General on certain courtier expeditions was beyond your comprehension. And beyond Cassian’s, too, judging by how much he hated it.
You took no small amount of pleasure in that fact. A little payback for all the ways he’d torn you down over the years.
“Hilarious.” He rolled his eyes at you.
“I wasn’t joking.”
“Whatever. Rhys is having me represent him at a fucking ball in the Hewn City and I need a plus-one, so — you’re coming.”
Your shoulders tensed. “Absolutely not. Ask somebody else.”
“There’s no way I’m putting Mor through that. And she’s in Vallahan, anyway.”
“So take Amren with you.”
“Be real, Y/N.”
You stared at him, clenching your jaw. You hated him. Hated him so, so much — loathed him — that you swore your veins turned to ice around him. Ever since you’d met him, and you’d taken one look at him and thought he was the most beautiful male you’d ever seen. 
You’d sworn never to fall in love again, when you’d joined Rhysand’s Inner Circle — and seeing Cassian go through flings like you went through books only solidified that decision.
Hate was a good thing. Hate was something you could pour all your anger into and throw at the person that seeped into your thoughts a little too often.
And dish that hate out you may, but gods Cassian gave it back just as fiercely.
“Ask one of your many lovers.” You spat. “You have your cock in a different female every week. I can’t imagine you’re short on admirers.”
Cassian stretched his arms over his head. “And how many admirers do you have, Y/N?”
You tried your best not to flinch. To let him see the effect his words had on you was as bad as him thrusting a dagger into your gut. You willed yourself to give nothing away.
“Just find somebody else.” You said. “There’s not a fucking chance I’m going anywhere with you, of all people.”
You didn’t give him a chance to respond. You turned on your feet and stalked from the room, leaving the note on his lap and your barbed words hanging heavy in the air.
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Three nights later, your bedroom door burst open so abruptly that you dropped your book on your face.
“Pause your masturbation for five minutes.” Cassian’s deep, arrogant voice filled the room. “I have your dress.”
You sat up, your entire body tensing the way it always did in his presence. “What.”
He kicked the door shut behind him, and even in your considerably-sized bedroom, his domineering figure seemed to take up most of the space. He strode to the foot of your bed — and paused, just for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of your nightgown, your unbound hair.
You didn’t have a chance to remark before he straightened himself out and launched a flash of pale pink fabric at you.
“For the ball.” He said. “I checked your size and asked the shopkeeper to pick it out, so…if you don’t like it, I don’t really give a fuck.”
Your eyes fell down to the dress in your lap. Undeniably pretty, with its rosy hue and flaring skirt, thin straps and tiny, beaded jewels. A dress you would probably choose for yourself, if the occasion called for it.
You’d always loved clothes; dresses in particular. The intricacies of certain garments fascinated you, and the thought of creating your own made your heart skip a beat.
You thought you’d feel pretty in this dress; prettier than you usually felt, in your leathers or shirts and breeches. It wasn’t all that often that you had an occasion to dress up for.
But even this gown wouldn’t convince you to accept Cassian’s invitation. Or, rather, his order.
You pushed the dress away from you, though your fingers lingered within the soft fabric. “You’re absolutely fucking insane if you think I’m going to that ball with you.”
Cassian’s eyes fell to where your hands stroked the skirts, before climbing back up to meet yours. The bastard knew what you were feeling. He fucking knew.
“Oh, you so want to.” He smirked. “I can see it in your eyes.”
You shrugged nonchalantly. “So it’s a nice dress. I’m sure one of your many sexual escapades would appreciate it.”
The General’s head tilted, a few strands ripping from the loose knot his hair was tied into. “What is it about my sex life that bothers you so much?”
That you’re free to even have such a sex life without judgement. That you will never know what it’s like to be ostracised just for exploring such things. That you can fuck who you like with no repercussions. That it isn’t me you’re—
“Don’t mistake me for someone who gives a shit about anything you do.” You bit. “I just wouldn’t want such a nice dress to be wasted.”
“It won’t be. Because you’ll be wearing it to the ball on Friday.”
“No.” You threw the dress back at him. Picked your book back up. “I will not.”
“I’m going to hang it on the door.”
“Don’t bother.”
He ignored you, of course. The dress was hung. “We’ll be leaving at seven.”
“No we won’t.”
“We will.”
He pulled your bedroom door open, slipping out.
“Cassian?” You called, and there was a strong pause.
He poked his head back in. “What?”
“I’m not going to that damned ball with you.”
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You were going to that damned ball with him.
High Lord’s orders, your ass. You’d kill Rhys for this.
The dress was a perfect fit, clinging to you like a second skin. And as you stared yourself down in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the fabric, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this pretty.
A long, long time ago. A night of passion. A night that would ultimately ruin your life.
You shook the past from your thoughts, straightening yourself out. It was imperative that you wore an unbreakable mask to the Hewn City. One that was steeled and sharp and revealed nothing of the person that lay beneath.
A thump fell on your bedroom door. “We’re going to be late.” Cassian barked.
You rolled your eyes, turning away from the mirror. The beads of your dress swished as you moved, and you focused on that, rather than the oaf that was currently trying to break into your room.
Just a few hours, and this would all be over.
“Simmer down, General.” You pulled the door open, stepping out. “I’m ready.”
Cassian stepped back. And stopped.
His hazel eyes slowly traced the length of your body. And despite the fact that he’d griped about being late, he took his sweet time drinking you in.
You waited for the snide remarks. For whatever fault he would surely find with your appearance. But when his eyes landed on your face again, you couldn’t puzzle out his expression.
“Good.” Was all he commented. “Let’s go.”
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“Can you quit your fidgeting?”
Cassian scowled beside you, rolling his shoulders. “The collar on this thing is too tight.”
Your eyes travelled the sculpted length of his body — not for the first time — before you forced them away. He looked…undeniably breathtaking.
His comfort, you knew, was in leathers and body armour. Only on rare occasions like Starfall or Solstice did he swap his usual attire for more casual clothing like button-up shirts and trousers. You couldn’t recall a time you’d actually seen him decked in a tailored suit.
Until now.
The material was of deepest burgundy, outlining — accentuating — every last muscle it possibly could. There was something thrilling about the thought of so many deadly weapons hiding within that dashing attire. Something thrilling about knowing the Lord of Bloodshed walked beside you.
Right now, though, he was the fucking Lord of Complaining and Whining. You rolled your eyes, turning to him.
“What are you doing?” He watched as you pushed up onto the tips of your toes.
“Shutting you up.” You adjusted his collar, ignoring the feel of the backs of your fingers brushing his neck. “Better?”
“Suppose so.” He rolled those shoulders again. He wouldn’t be content until the suit was off him completely.
“Then let’s go.” You currently stood outside the towering gates of the Hewn City, the air always unpleasantly cold in these parts. You took a step forward, your dress swishing along the ground—
A warm, rough hand landed on your arm. Stopped you.
“What?” You glanced at Cassian over your shoulder.
“Rhys is expecting us to represent him.” He said, his hazel eyes strangely fierce. He always got that look when there was a task at hand. “I know we hate each other. And that’s more than fine. But just for tonight, can we pretend that we…don’t?”
You stared back at him pensively. A petty part of you wanted to shrug him off and scoff. To tell him that the unpleasantness with which he’d always approached you had long laid any potential alliance to waste.
But he was right — Rhys was counting on you both. And Rhys had done a lot for you since you’d turned up on his doorstep with barely a coin to your name. For him…for him, you would pretend to enjoy Cassian’s company.
“Whatever.” You shrugged the General’s touch off, turning back around. “Fine.”
It wasn’t going to be easy, though.
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You made sure, in your life, that you never had to spend any extended amount of time with Cassian. You tolerated him when you had to, and avoided him the rest of the time.
But you’d been for nights out in the same group, of course. And you’d forgotten how many females tended to flock to his side and fawn over him.
This ball was a sure reminder of that.
You’d barely stepped into the room and grabbed yourselves a drink before groups of females were glancing over and chatting excitedly, shrill giggles floating over to you. It was a mere five minutes before one of them mustered the nerve to ask him to dance, leaving you standing on your own.
It was during that first dance that you decided — you weren’t just going to be civil with Cassian.
You were going to be so sickeningly over the top that he’d have no chance of skulking off with any of those females and leaving you by yourself while he got his cock sucked. Not a chance. If they thought he’d been claimed by another member of Rhys’s Inner Circle, they’d back off; if a little begrudgingly.
So you watched. Waited for that dance to end. Rhys hadn’t given you any specific orders, besides attending on his behalf and keeping an ear out for any gossip. You drank your wine and enjoyed the music, and the second Cassian had an empty space before him, you dipped in before anybody else could.
It seemed to surprise him. He blinked at you, before straightening himself out. “What are you doing?”
“Dancing with you.” You grabbed his hand, fastening it on your waist.
“Rhys never said we had to dance together.”
“You want us to get along, Cassian?” The music began, tugging you into movement. “Then let’s get along.”
With the other couples beginning to dance around you, it left no other option than to follow suit and avoid causing a scene. Cassian’s jaw ticked, but he grabbed for your other hand and began to pull you around the dance floor with him. He was no seasoned dancer, by any means, but he displayed more skill than you’d expected.
Another thing you loved — dancing. Feeling like your feet were floating. Once you started dancing, you wanted to keep going and going into you fell off the world and tumbled into a blissful beyond. Nothing else mattered besides the music, the moves.
“I didn’t know you could dance.” Cassian commented, echoing the thoughts you’d had about him.
You shrugged, not misstepping once. “I was forced to take lessons as a girl.”
“I didn’t know that, either.”
“Why would you know? It’s not as though we like each other.”
He spun you around. Dipped you in his arms. “And why is that?”
Laughable, that he was the one to ask that question. “You tell me. You never tried.”
“Is that how it went?”
“It is.”
He stared at you, expression unreadable. No other words were exchanged as one dance came to its end, and the music flowed into the next piece. But you didn’t need words to carry out your plan.
The second you caught a glimpse of hopeful, waiting females in your periphery, you pulled Cassian closer to you once more, your bodies flush against each other.
You may have felt a teensy bit ridiculous as you slipped your fingers into the strands of his hair and brushed it out of his face.
“I like your hair like this.” The words were heavy on your tongue. Not untrue, but…painful to say out loud.
Cass stared at you. “…thank you.”
But his thanks was lost in your satisfaction as the awaiting female disappeared from the corner of your eye, skulking off to sulk, no doubt. It was an effort not to smirk. Still, you righted yourself and continued with your plan.
You made certain that yours and Cassian’s bodies met in all the right places. Very close. Very dangerous.
Perfect — because there were still hopeful, simpering females watching. Waiting for you to walk away.
“Dance with me again.” Your breathy tone wasn’t entirely for show — nor was the hand you trailed down his arm for emphasis.
But Cassian frowned at you. “What are you up to?”
“Me?” Your eyes glittered. “Nothing at all.”
He kept his gaze on you, following you into your second dance. You could have sworn you saw the slumping of many shoulders as you spun around the floor, Cassian’s hands like a burning brand on your skin.
You weren’t even really paying attention to him, simply following the steps mindlessly, until he spoke again.
“That isn’t how it went.” He said.
Your brow furrowed as you spun around. “What?”
In one swift move, he was pulling you against him, pressing your fronts together. “You said I never tried to know you. I refute that.”
You shrugged. “You treated me with the same contempt as the bastards I ran away from.”
“You treated me like I was dirt beneath your shoe and I didn’t deserve the time of day.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. That simply was not true. He had always been cocky, and arrogant, and difficult. He acted as though mud wouldn’t stick to him, as though he could do what he liked, when he liked.
Suddenly, you didn’t want to be dancing with him anymore. Didn’t want his hands on you, simpering females or no.
He could go to hell.
“I never thought you didn’t deserve the time of day.” You contested tersely. “I—”
“I know.” He interrupted. Spun you around again. “I worked it out eventually.”
“Excuse me?”
“What your problem is.” Another dip.
You didn’t like this conversation — it’s direction. It would be easier to run away, to avoid it.
Easier, but cowardly.
“Pray, tell, General, what do you believe my problem is?” You stared at him.
He leaned down, just as the music faded. Poised his lips at your ear. “Jealousy.” He murmured, the word seeming deafeningly loud. “Sometimes the way you look at me makes me think that perhaps you don’t hate me that much.”
You knew your body stiffened between you. And as he pulled back and smirked, you also knew that he knew he’d won.
Whatever it was that glittered in his eyes was…knowledge. Knowing. An understanding. And that couldn’t mean anything good for you.
“Cassian?”
The two of you looked up upon the intrusion, only realising then that the music had stopped, and the dancing with it. A doe-eyed girl stared at the General with bright, sparkling hope in her eyes.
“I was hoping I might have the next dance.” She said.
You didn’t care anymore. You barely spared either of them a glance as you let go of Cassian and pushed out of his arms.
“He’s all yours.” You said.
And then you went to find some fresh air.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・
“I’ll be sure to tell Rhys that you spent the evening skulking around on your own whilst I did all the posturing.”
You glanced at Cassian out of the corner of your eye. You weren’t interested in a verbal sparring match right now. The night air was pleasant on your skin, and you allowed it to cool your face, your neck. Allowed it to wash away the tension permanently coiled within your veins, if only for a few stolen moments.
“Go ahead”, was the only reply you offered.
Eyes pierced into you as you bathed yourself in the moonlight. Even with your own shut, you could sense Cassian watching, waiting. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of anything beyond vague acknowledgement. Not now.
That seemed to fucking torture him.
“What—no smartass response?” He quipped.
“No, Cassian,” you sighed quietly. “No smartass response.”
He paused — seemed genuinely knocked silent for a moment — before he scoffed. “I don’t believe that for a second. Even in silence, I know you’re up to something. That scheming brain of yours—”
“This scheming brain of mine is exhausted.”
As your eyes flew open, you caught the way he faltered, a slight misstep, the barest ruffling of his wings. For all he was the General of War, the Lord of Bloodshed, you’d also observed him to be a profoundly emotional person. And that emotion sometimes won as he fought to hide it.
This emotion…it was ire. Gone was the sharp-edged teasing. He found issue with your words, and his jaw gave a telltale tick.
“What could you possibly be exhausted by?” he scoffed. “You need only turn up looking like a fucking goddess and people respect you. You’re not some lowly, bastard-born brute. You don’t get sneered at simply for breathing—”
“You believe people respect me?”
“Of course they do!”
“You don’t.”
He stumbled — actually stumbled — and it was only that which alerted you to the way he’d been inching towards you. But his steps faltered, and he gaped at you like your revelation was entirely out of pocket. Like you had no reason to feel that.
“You have never respected me.” You held firm on your point, even if your voice was a tad quieter. “I fled a fucking viper’s den and ran to Rhysand’s court, hoping to find a sense of…of belonging. But you…” A soft, rueful chuckle shuddered out of you. “You have made it your mission to ensure that would not be the case.”
Slowly, Cassian’s brow pinched. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, seeming to search for the right words. “That…isn’t how it went…”
“It is,” you shrugged. “You said I treated you like dirt — perhaps, unintentionally, I did. Perhaps it was a defence mechanism, because I never expected to flee absolute hell and come face-to-face with a male that I immediately wanted.”
There they were — the words out in the open. The truth wedged itself between you like a glaring, unmissable sign. You had never hated Cassian. Quite the opposite.
“I thought that I would never want another male in that way again.” You revealed hoarsely. “I thought I would live a life content with just…being me. With friends and nothing more. But that first day I met you, I walked in and I…I knew. I felt it.”
Cassian blinked, slowly shaking his head. “What…”
“And then you were so hostile, and I thought that maybe that was a good thing. That it would discourage me from feeling things. But I must be a fucking glutton for punishment, because no matter how cold you were towards me, my feelings only grew. And I tried…I tried so hard to shift them into hate, but I couldn’t. I’ve never been able to. I simply…can’t.”
The way he stared at you…so hardened, so severe…you couldn’t get a read on the reaction. But then…had you ever really been able to get a read on him?
“You were right…what you said about me being jealous,” you swallowed. “I was. I am—”
“That was…just a joke…I was just being a dick—”
“No,” you shook your head. “You were right. I was jealous in there, and I’m always jealous when people flirt with you. When I see you smile at them and joke with them and I shouldn’t wish it was me but I do. These feelings are constant. And that, Cassian…that is why I am exhausted. It’s exhausting for me to know you.”
Silence.
It should have been a relief, to have finally shifted such heavy feelings from your shoulders. But they were like tangible beings, fogging the air around you, wrapping you and Cassian up in a situation that was complicated and ugly and not at all ideal.
You knew he would do nothing with your feelings…except maybe sneer at them, laugh at them, throw them back in your face. You expected nothing from him. And the longer the silence went on, the more you began to wish that you could steal your confessions back. Shove them deep back into that narrow part of your heart that was still capable, somehow, of feeling such things.
You cleared your throat, tweaking the pretty, delicate gloves that covered your hands and forearms. “We should…head back inside.”
You breezed past him, suddenly desperate for the mindless chaos of the throne room. But you’d only managed a few steps forward before Cassian was gripping onto your arm and yanking you back.
Your dress fanned out as he spun you around, and a breath pushed out of you as he slammed you against the nearest wall, the cold brick biting into the fabric of your dress.
Before you could say anything, he was dipping down, his mouth sliding over yours.
Cassian kissed you deeply, punishingly, his lips moulding to yours perfectly. You gasped against him, and his tongue slid into your mouth to dance with yours, his rough, rugged taste invading you.
You’d thought about this moment a ludicrous amount. You’d imagined what the weight of his lips might be like, how perfectly his tongue might duel with yours. Nothing — no amount of imagining — could prepare you for the reality. The sense of rightness as his hand coasted up to clasp the back of your head, his fingers sinking into your hair. He gave a gentle tug, and you moaned in immediate response.
Air, it seemed, was not important. Not as you kissed him back feverishly, gripping at his shirt in an attempt to pull him as close against you as he could possibly get. The press of his hard body against yours was pleasure in itself. You nipped his lip, desperate for more, more, more, and he groaned in response.
This — this could very well spiral out of control, and you would welcome it. You wanted him to tear your clothes off and take you against this wall. You wanted him to make you feel like he wanted you, like it wasn’t exhausting to know him—
But there was suddenly emptiness and coldness. And it took your mind a moment to catch up and realise that he had pulled away.
Not far. Just enough to stare down at you, his deep hazel eyes flaring and furious. His panting breaths sawed out of him, landing directly on your lips and making you desperate for another taste. You tilted your head up—
He shook his head. Stepped back.
“No,” he murmured, voice gruff. “No. You…you are very bad for me.”
Your entire body turned cold at the words. Words that sliced at you, reminiscent of ones you’d heard before. “What?”
“You’re bad for me,” he repeated. “And I am very bad for you.”
“Cassian—”
“Don’t—don’t even say my name.”
With a swiftness that sent a gust of wind rustling the skirts of your dress, he turned, wings flaring and launching him into the star-speckled sky above you. You gaped at his retreating figure, flying off into the night, leaving you alone not only in that courtyard, but in the fucking Court of Nightmares.
Your mouth had turned dry, your skin cold. You lingered out there long after Cassian had flown off, waiting to see if he would come back. Pathetically hoping he would.
He did not.
And as you conceded, slipping your courtier mask back into place and turning to retreat back inside, his words rang like a deafening klaxon in your head.
You are very bad for me.
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