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yymiya · 2 years ago

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shed our skin — kaeya x gn!reader

This game has gone on for too long, now. It comes to a head beneath the wintry mist of Dragonspine, bathed in warm lantern light and the impression that this is still strictly professional.

Fate is cruellest where Kaeya is involved.

tags: gn!reader, treasure hoarder!reader, angst, smut, sub kaeya, exhibitionism, masturbation, thigh riding, penetrative sex, face slapping, orgasm delay wc: 13.7k

ao3 link

Sir Kaeya has a penchant for pretending.

Simply put, it’s enjoyable. Be it the thrill of watching an opponent blunder and realise they’ve been fooled by the smooth-talking Cavalry Captain, or a brief respite during which Kaeya can be someone other than himself, at least until that temporary facade gives way to one of permanence. Pretending has become somewhat of a pastime.

This is just what Kaeya does, and what he does best. Not even the Acting Grand Master can fault his methods. They’re precisely what bring unparalleled success to Ordo Favonius, therefore Kaeya sees no point in switching tactics. Most aren’t in the know, anyway. The denizens trust Kaeya because he wants them to, and his circle of friends—colleagues and drinking buddies, rather—may be hesitant when he omits a slither of truth, but as Mondstadters, their hearts are naive.

Each sweet lie is just Kaeya being Kaeya, soon to be swept under the rug.

Well. Kaeya’s dealings with you are a stone’s throw away from Mondstadt, so your heart is instead much like his.

Despite your ad hoc relocations, Kaeya pinpoints you easily enough. You never stray far, and every Treasure Hoarder leaves a distinct trail of disgruntled merchants griping for their stolen goods to be reimbursed—a headache in and of itself, Kaeya finds.

This time, your camp is assembled close to Dragonspine’s outskirts and teeters on the frontier between two nations where the grass is still jade green but frost clings to each blade. Here, the air is frigid even by Kaeya’s standards, and he’s beginning to regret having left his overcoat at headquarters.

No matter. Lantern glow engulfs your camp in warm, yellow light, and you’re plenty civil. It’s only fair to allow a mere passerby to warm up after an arduous journey.

If you hear Kaeya approach, boots trudging through a thin layer of snow, you show no sign.

Beneath the tent, you sit cross-legged with your forearms resting on a battered crate from the winery, scribbling across a scrap of parchment. Occasionally, your fingertips ghost over an old pocket watch you’ve propped against a canteen of water, but it’s soon slipped into your coat pocket in a bout of agitation.

Kaeya knows his intrigue should be captured by whatever grievance has you ignoring him, or how you procured that crate from his brother’s home of all things, but only your state of unrest is of interest.

Not unlike fellow Treasure Hoarders, a dark mask shields the lower half of your face, so Kaeya isn’t privy to your entire expression. Fortunately, he’s skilled in deciphering body language. A mere once-over of the tension pulling your shoulders taut, and the disarray of your clothes despite the wintry weather, reveals that you’re in a particularly foul mood this evening.

All the better. A short temper leads to the most riveting conversations.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Kaeya drawls in that stupidly smooth voice of his, smirking. Your posture straightens, fist tightening around the quill until it fractures in your gloved hand. “What a wonderful change of scenery. Much easier on the eye than those drab, uncharted domains you adore.”

His footfalls cease yards away but you don’t turn to regard him. The letter you’re drafting is of far greater importance than the man behind you, though the shadow screening you from the lurid setting sun means he’s reading the lines from over your shoulder. Trying to. It’s written in a cypher—a simple one because your brothers in arms don’t possess the intelligence to decrypt something more advanced.

Kaeya could crack it if need be, but his curiosity dwindles with each new symbol you scratch into the parchment.

The quill clatters against the crate, now split in two and dripping dark ink onto the wood. “I’m busy, Captain. What do you want?”

“Without your comrades, are you?”

“They’re away. Answer my question.”

Kaeya huffs in laughter, his breath materialising in the air. “Didn’t I just? We have much to discuss concerning the Treasure Hoarders’ behaviour in and around Monstadt, should you be so kind as to entertain my inquiries.”

“I’m in no mood for an interrogation tonight.”

“Come now,” he reproves in an amused lilt. “I’m only here to chat.”

“I’m not within Mondstadt’s border, so you have no grounds for pestering me.”

Finally, Kaeya’s granted a flash of narrowed eyes as your head inclines in the direction of the nearby river. It acts as the divide between Mondstadt and Liyue, winding around Dragonspine and then heading north-west towards the winery, where Kaeya used to splash and play and pick calla lilies during his youth.

“And if I’m not here as a knight? Rather, a friend.”

“That’s what you call this? Friendship?” you scoff. “Don’t be a fool. Treat me as I am.”

“A miscreant with a bad attitude, then. I unfortunately sprained my wrist some time ago, so I’m in no state to be making an arrest.”

Kaeya’s wrist is fine. The incident had been nothing more than a mishap involving a vendor and their very large, very heavy case of merchandise. Only, Kaeya had grossly overestimated his strength. It happens. The bruise isn’t that noticeable, anyway.

Kaeya isn’t daunted by the moment of quiet you impose and instead bolsters his stubbornness. In the beginning, you were able to shake him off with well-founded threats and a scathing glare, but the same doesn’t presently apply. Kaeya takes no wary backsteps, not even in jest, and he doesn’t prematurely leave with the promise of his return.

He remains firmly planted with his arms crossed. Even the weather can’t deter him, although you spot the goosebumps rising on his arms and how he furtively slips one hand into the warm fur collar of his cape.

“You shouldn’t loiter,” you say, folding the parchment once the ink dries. It’s slipped into your trouser pocket. “Besides, you’ll catch a dreadful cold if you stay out there any longer.”

“What’s this? Are you inviting m—”

“For Archons’ sake, sit down.”

That does it. Thankfully, there’s a large blanket covering the grass, so Kaeya doesn’t have to worry about dirtying his clothes with frost and soil. He settles at the opposite end of the crate and idly wonders whether the blanket had been thieved from the winery, too. He toys with a loose thread, unravelling it with a disinterested expression. The craftsmanship is mediocre at best, therefore it was likely pilfered from elsewhere.

However, now that Kaeya thinks about it, the winery’s workers have always diligently ensured the cellar remains thoroughly stocked, so the crate must have held several bottles of wine. What you did with the alcohol is one question, but more ludicrous is how you managed to sneak down there.

As if sensing his pondering, you answer the lesser of his unspoken questions, “If you were wondering, I sold the contents.”

Kaeya grins. To divulge such incriminating information, you must trust him to a degree. “And you didn’t think to inform me of your… extensive stock?”

“Funny.” Your voice is flat. “The Favonius knight wants stolen wine.”

The warmth radiating from a lantern close by has eased his stiff fingers, and he interlocks them beneath his chin. “All in the name of spite, of course. I can only imagine the look on my dear brother’s face when I walk into his tavern with a bottle of his wine that he simply cannot remember selling to me.”

In spite of yourself, you smile beneath your mask. “Yet you claim I’m the miscreant.”

“I assure you there’s enough room for the two of us,” he promises, leaning forward. You notice a light freckle beneath his visible eye, beneath a clump of long and dark lashes.

“Aren’t we special, then?” you mutter. “The only miscreants in the whole wide world.”

Kaeya meant Mondstadt specifically, but he smiles nonetheless. He has to stop expecting you to proclaim yourself a converted child of the wind. “I’m so pleased you understand. Now, as much as I enjoy our little back-and-forth, that isn’t why I’m here.”

“Right, yes. Rattle off your list of grievances that somehow concern me and sneak in a few snarky insults, why don’t you.”

Kaeya simpers a wicked smirk, the mellow lighting accentuating his haughtiness. “Very well. A number of your comrades have been kicking up quite the fuss, and Mondstadt only has so many cells. These incidents are nothing more than minor, petty conflicts so some men are eligible for release… I’m positive you’d be much obliged to see them return. Am I correct?”

“Whatever mess they’ve landed themselves in is none of my business, nor my responsibility. Now, I’ll say it again: I’m in no mood for an interrogation.”

“Oh, but I was so certain you would feel safer once a number of your men have returned. After all, ‘away’ isn’t very specific, and I see only your belongings here.”

Kaeya isn’t wrong. During your time in and around Mondstadt’s territory, the majority of your crew has been apprehended by the Knights, the rest by the Millelith. They’re a rowdy bunch so it isn’t nonsensical, but the sudden decline in manpower has made your job trickier, and you’re one empty stomach away from winding up alongside them.

“Truthfully, whether they return or not doesn’t bother me,” you answer. When you next meet Kaeya’s eye, his head tilts for you to continue. “What does bother me, however… Are you worried for my safety, Captain?”

He laughs. “You see, cold weather makes hilichurls awfully aggressive, and there happens to be many up that mountain. Having to lug your cadaver to a city you don’t belong to would put a damper on my afternoon, surely.”

“I can hold my own.”

“Against harmless merchants, perhaps.”

“What happened to being here as a friend?” you scoff. He gives you that look—the aggravating smirk he sports so comfortably. “This feels like a lecture, Knight.”

“You mustn’t have many friends if you seriously believe a light-hearted scolding is me speaking as a knight.”

“If I knew rejecting your offer of friendship would bruise your pride, I’d have been kinder,” you grumble. “Well, I understand that not many people take to your arrogance, but we both know companionship isn’t the reason you’re here.”

Kaeya is as whimsical as they come, though he becomes more predictable with each visit. He still catches you off-guard at times. It is Kaeya, after all. There’s always a trick up his sleeve.

Even so, there are only ever a few things he wants from you.

“This isn’t about comrades or jail space,” you continue when he offers nothing in the way of a rebuttal. “You didn’t trek all this way for nothing, so what is it?”

“Can’t I want some company?”

“Sure, but you only find my company pleasant when there’s intel you’re after, Kaeya.”

Kaeya blinks. You so rarely speak his name without his title attached. It’s always a mocking Sir Kaeya, or Captain. Never just Kaeya. It’s odd, but not unwelcome. He’s accustomed to his name being called for a multitude of reasons, but it sounds sweetest from your mouth.

If only your voice wasn’t so weary. He supposes it has something to do with that inked parchment, or maybe he’s the issue. Knowing the Treasure Hoarders’ whereabouts and incentives is Kaeya’s job. He could seek the information elsewhere. He just doesn’t want to.

“If you wish to turn away from the truth, then fine.” Kaeya shrugs indifferently. “By all means, don’t allow me to stand in the way of your ignorance.”

It isn’t ignorance. You’re well aware that Kaeya has taken a keen liking to you, but you have little time and patience for something as tedious as romance. Still, he has a knack for pushing you to your limit in every aspect.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you what you want so long as you answer a question,” you propose. “You can ask one in return.”

There’s no shortage of mysteries when it comes to Kaeya, so it’s easy to assume what’s on your mind. He cracks his knuckles, pensive. “All right, deal.”

“You’ve had countless opportunities to arrest me, yet you give an excuse each time. Why is that?”

Kaeya chuckles. “Isn’t it obvious?”

He says it as though his motivations are easily discerned, as though he doesn’t communicate in double entendres, insinuations, and allusions. Not much about him is crystal-clear.

His motives have always been ambiguous, even on that first night when he ambushed your camp deep within Stormterror’s Lair and demanded a rundown of your operation. He stated no reason.

You had more men with you then. It’s funny, almost, how fate has whittled down your crew until only one member remains.

It wasn’t until several encounters later that Kaeya had forgotten himself, lowering to his knees with the promise that he could ensure forfeiting information was worthwhile. You’d refused then, too, but he insisted on being of service. He hadn’t made the trip for nought. Once again, he gave no reason beyond that.

That day you learned you’re weak to Kaeya’s charms. It’s been push-pull since.

“No, it isn’t,” you say. “So, tell me.”

“You really don’t know?” he teases, though upon seeing your blank stare, he throws up his hands. “All right, all right. To tell the truth, I want you as an informant.”

“You have an interesting sense of humour, Captain,” you laugh. “You want me to work for you?”

“For the Knights of Favonius, rather. The pay would come from them, after all.”

A good wage should entice you.

Kaeya spares a glance at the scratched silver ring fitted around your thumb. Its wear and tear is a testament to its age, and it seems you hold onto it quite stubbornly even though it’s fashioned of cheap metal.

You could buy a nicer one, should you agree.

He continues, “Well, if reimbursement for damage caused to Mondstadt’s economy and enough mora to cover the cost of living can be considered a true salary.”

“I have to hand it to you, you’ve mastered the art of spewing the most outlandish things. What has all this been then? An attempt to curry favour so I would accept your offer?”

“Ah-ah,” Kaeya chides. “You only get one question… but I’m feeling generous tonight. For your peace of mind, no, that isn’t the reason.”

“Right. Ask away, then. What intel are you after?”

Kaeya tilts his head. The golden lighting, vivid in the dusk, floods the mischievous glint in his eye like the metal accessories he wears. A hand reaches out, and Kaeya’s long fingers brush your pocket. “What about that piece of parchment has you so wound up?”

You huff. Fair play. This exchange had been proposed acting on the knowledge that Kaeya would ask for relevant intel—the Treasure Hoarders’ activities, lost items, Boss, anything else.

It’s a pointless question. The answer is not one he can use to his advantage. Again, Kaeya’s motives are nothing if not unclear.

“Have I hit a nerve?” he asks, grinning.

“Depends. If I say yes, will you ask me a different question? One of more use, perhaps.”

Kaeya leans forward, his eye squinting as though he’s about to disclose a secret. “I’m hardly a man of integrity, so there will be no hard feelings if you decide to rescind our little agreement.”

“Thank y—”

“However,” he interjects, resting his chin on his hand. “I have something, but it’s less of a question and more of a request.”

There are only ever a few things Kaeya wants from you.

The unconscious flicker of your eyes to his exposed chest isn’t lost on him because Kaeya makes direct eye contact when your gaze returns to his, knowing. His skin has accumulated a thin sheen of sweat during his journey here, and it glistens in the low light.

“Fine,” you concede, swallowing to assuage the dryness in your throat. Any further words crumble into dust when he offers his hand to you—large and inviting. It’s a sweet gesture, almost, because he knows not to touch you without rare permission.

Kaeya, for his boundless knowledge and unrivalled ability to read others, doesn’t know why you have forbidden such a thing. Naturally, he’s spared plenty of thought as to what the reason may be. Perhaps it’s just too much. A little closer to lovers than you’d like, for Kaeya to cling onto your arm as another orgasm is drawn from him, for you to stop fooling around and kiss him at last.

In truth, you fear it will be too tender. Then there’s nothing that can be done.

Kaeya waggles his fingers at you, teasing, “I don’t take kindly to rejection.”

“That’s not at all surprising,” you sigh, but your fingers slip between his and pull him closer. Kaeya shuffles out of the crate’s way, half crawling across the floor like some obedient pup and settling at your side. “Get undressed.”

Kaeya looks surprised. “In this weather?”

“That Vision of yours offers no refuge from the cold?” you laugh. “You’ll warm up soon enough, so get to it.”

Kaeya doesn’t look too pleased with your order—when is he ever?—but after a long, unwavering moment of silence, he unclips his cape at the shoulder and sets it down. His gloves come off next, followed by his gold-studded accessories.

It’s methodical, almost, and Kaeya enjoys the attention. People always watch him, scrutinising every move. Mostly it’s in undying support, but there are the few who lie in wait for the inevitable moment Kaeya’s facade slips and too much is revealed.

This feels different. Warmer, despite the prickling chill that flits over his skin. You grin as a violent tremor wracks his lean shoulders.

“Sadist,” Kaeya accuses.

“Shall I act differently?” you test, tilting forward. A strand of navy hair tickles your forehead. Too close. “Am I not to your taste?”

“I was simply making an observation,” he defends, pulling on his blue overshirt till it comes off. “No need to get defensive.”

“Hm. Hurry up,” you grumble, disgruntled.

If Kaeya has a quip about your lack of patience and how badly you ache for him, he keeps it to himself. It’s staved off with each icy brush of chill carried by the wind.

It really is cold, yet you’re snug in a heavy, fur-lined winter coat. Kaeya laments its loss on behalf of the poor fucker you nicked it from, whose frozen suffering very well may rival his own.

You must notice his discomfort because you momentarily step away to stoke the fires within various lanterns. Even though night hasn’t yet fallen, allowing them to burn brightly is a risky move for someone of your infamy. Kaeya can’t shake the suspicion that you anticipated his visit, chancing the risk of discovery by some of the more morally rigid knights and Millelith soldiers to be in his company.

When you return, Kaeya has warmed—his muscles no longer ache when he flexes them, at least—and, for the most part, he’s bare. All that remains is his black choker. He tends to leave it on these days, ever since you made an offhand comment about him looking to be kept. Something like that. In all honesty, the memory is hazy because you had proceeded to tug him forward by the metal loop and trap his body beneath yours.

The memory makes Kaeya shiver.

“So obedient,” you marvel, kneeling opposite him. “What in the world am I supposed to do with you, hm?”

Kaeya knows not to answer. He waits quietly for you to finish the thought, leaning into the hand that strokes over his cheek.

”Since you were so kind as to forget that question, you can choose. Tell me what you want.”

“Why, I want you to be my informant, of course.”

“No.”

Kaeya smiles, superficial. “I thought as much… If I dressed up for you, would that sway your opinion?”

“As appealing as you are,” you snicker, “my answer wouldn’t change.”

“I haven’t even listed the options yet,” he argues. His eye is half-lidded in amusement and blinking slowly, self-assured as though he’s won. “How unfair.”

It isn’t unusual for Kaeya to be persistent but flattery is always enough to stop him in his tracks. This time, it doesn’t discourage him. The things you would do to take a peek inside of his head.

“Doesn’t matter. You’d do whatever I asked regardless, wouldn’t you?”

Kaeya rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Escaping this isn’t as easy as changing the subject, you know.”

Irritation flares within the confines of your ribs. Kaeya doesn’t know the first thing about your situation, nor does he understand its complexity. To even pretend to do so is insulting.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, Sir Kaeya.”

He bridles. “Let me guess, you don’t owe it to me.”

“No, I don’t, but I also don’t want to argue. Drop it.”

“Is this to do with the Treasure Hoarders?” he asks. You rub a hand over your face. He just doesn’t stop. “What’s keeping you from me? Is it debt?”

A strangled laugh leaves a bitter ache in your throat. “From you?”

“The Knights are resourceful. A scheme can be put into place to liquidate any debts, and they won’t hold out on protection. I’ll see to it personally. Believe me—

“Captain.”

“—everything could be good. Don’t you want that? You might not owe it to me, but you owe it to yourself to at least try to put an end to years of—”

“For fuck’s sake, Kaeya,” you hiss, startling him out of his tirade. You really, really don’t want to be lectured. “You’re thinking too deeply into it. It just doesn’t interest me, all right? Let it go.”

That isn’t the true reason. It can’t be. Kaeya has always known you to be shrewd and calculating. Your line of work doesn’t afford for you to be driven forward by anything other than unadulterated logic, but this—

Kaeya laughs. When did you become so much like him? Concealing truths and motivations will eventually take its toll. Kaeya is well-versed in such ordeals.

“All right?” you repeat.

“All right,” Kaeya agrees, smirking. “Another time, then. For now—”

He glides a lithe hand to the crux of his thigh, tracing each fading bruise. He knows it angers you, to see your distinctive marks fading into the warm colour of his skin.

“—why don’t you help me out?”

You can never stay mad at Kaeya for long. Reassuring, you reach forward and thumb over the darkest mark. You don’t want him to believe you’re mad at him either.

He’s pretending again, now. That you don’t tread this same thin line each week, never quite knowing when it will tip. That this hasn’t been a near constant game of cat and mouse, of pushing any boundary further and further back in the pursuit of information that Kaeya needs but doesn’t want.

“A little specificity never hurts,” you tease. “Besides, I know how you love to talk.”

“That slight against me aside… I wouldn’t mind feeling that mouth of yours.”

“Nice try, Captain. Take your eyepatch off and then we’ll talk.”

Kaeya grins. It was worth a shot, and you can’t blame him for trying to sate his curiosity. Your mask isn’t removed unless necessary. That’s fine. Kaeya has secrets of his own, though that doesn’t dampen his intrigue as to why.

He has it on good authority that no rule amongst Treasure Hoarders stipulates one must be worn. No written rule, anyway. Kaeya can only make assumptions founded on common sense. Most members choose to do so because it’s essential to avoid identification.

Naturally, there are other reasons, and Kaeya has an inkling yours is something else. Perhaps something that relates to the why you haven’t told him your name.

The thought is jarring. Kaeya doesn’t know your name.

It makes little difference. As if Kaeya doesn’t already know you. As if he hasn’t picked your front apart until all the remains are fragments and frayed string. It wouldn’t come as a surprise if Kaeya blurted out your name, your homeland, or anything else for that matter. There’s so much information unbeknownst to Kaeya, but he knows you so very well that it wouldn’t shock you to learn that he’s had the facts all along.

But he doesn’t pry for more than is required. He doesn’t need to know what you look like, nor what your mouth feels like.

Though, that isn’t to say he hasn’t fucked his fist to the thought, hasn’t straddled his pillow late at night and rolled his hips until the rough drag of fabric has him crying. A silver tongue is good for more than your wily ways.

“I’ll help you, promise,” you whisper earnestly, but a wicked gleam in your eyes is a cause for concern. “So long as you help yourself first. Just until you’re ready for me. How’s that? Then I’ll make you come.”

“Why, pray tell, would I do that? Do you want me to be sensitive? In pain? It seems you took that little sadist comment to heart, and now you seriously believe I must be punished.”

You snicker, shaking your head. Kaeya never fails to deliver a melodramatic, outraged display when what he wants isn’t immediately handed to him. He’s all bark, though. If you were to suddenly change your mind and agree to what he wants, his brow would crease in confusion and a frown would mar his pretty face.

At the end of the day, Kaeya will take what you give. He’s eager to do so.

“Complaining won’t make me get you off sooner, you know. Be patient and I’ll reward you accordingly.”

Kaeya leans closer. Your hand on his thigh is forced higher until it brushes the deep scar splitting his hip bone. His voice is sultry when he whispers, “And what would that be?”

He’s a mere inch away, and for a long second, you think he may try to kiss you through your mask. In spite of this and the flickering trickle of warmth into your blood, you let this closeness linger for a moment. Just one. It fills you with a sense of foreboding but you’ve long since crossed every line imaginable. This is no different.

It’s just late, too late.

“Would you like to fuck me?” you breathe.

The question must set Kaeya on edge because he blinks rapidly, pupils blown wide. You’ve never offered such a thing. These visits always see to it that Kaeya is given a thorough fucking, that Kaeya is shaking and spent. Meanwhile, you’re content to sit and watch the spectacle. He can count on one hand the number of occasions you’ve allowed him to get you off in all the time you’ve known each other. One, almost two years. One hand.

“How tempting…” he drawls. He drops back onto his elbows, and like tugging on a string, you follow. “Perhaps I’m better suited to your profession. The pursuit of treasure knows no bounds, not even your own.”

With a sigh, you catch onto his line of thought. “You’re in that head of yours far too much, Captain. I’m offering myself to you because I want to be fucked stupid, do you understand?”

Kaeya raises his chin. “Is that a challenge?”

Knowing Kaeya, this will likely spiral into a pointless dick-measuring contest before he even has the chance to touch you, so he’s reined in with a slap to the inside of his thigh. The bastard doesn’t even flinch, still maintaining that smug smirk.

You lean back against the crate, waiting expectantly. “The only thing I care about right now is watching you come undone, so hurry to it.”

Thankfully, Kaeya has the sense to follow instructions. He clasps his fingers around the base of his cock to steady it, and strokes himself to full hardness. There’s a slick, obscene noise as precum dribbles over his knuckles, spreading with each drag of his fist. He stifles a low moan. If Kaeya has to wait to come, you have to wait to hear him.

You notice. The sharp glare Kaeya receives drives a shiver through his body, and his fingers constrict around himself. This is playful, not misbehaviour… but if he were to come too soon, you would hardly be lenient.

Kaeya’s punishments are designed to breach his impatience. It doesn’t take a great deal of effort. The promise of a reward if he takes it well is more than enough to put him in place, but you have your fun with it nonetheless. On occasions, Kaeya is given no choice but to watch as you touch yourself, unable to voice a complaint or reach out to graze his fingers across your skin.

When the weather isn’t so cold, you bind his hands and have him wait until you finish penning a letter or scheme. It works well. His face is either streaked with tears or turned away by the time your attention refocuses on him, the former being the favourable outcome. Then you play nice, keep his body pressed against the wall while you fuck him dumb in plain sight of any adventurer who wanders too deep into abandoned ruins, soon to witness the visage of the idolised Cavalry Captain with a bandit’s fingers silencing his smart mouth.

During crueller days, Kaeya is sent back to the city with a painful erection on show, and he stoops so low as to crouch in an abandoned camp and deal with it before he returns.

“Captain.” Your voice reaches him like a distant dream’s haze, jarring in the chilly night. “Having a pleasant thought? You’re blushing.”

“Oh, my apologies,” he chuckles. His cock is heavy in his palm as he pushes a thumb into his slit, shivering. “Even when I have you to myself, I’m prone to daydreams. Isn’t that peculiar?”

You snort. “Imaginative, rather. Though I wouldn’t be very good if I left you to your thoughts, so how about some help?”

“How generous. Go on, then,” he simpers, fisting himself once, twice, and then not at all. Just from that short moment mired in his thought, he’s painfully close. He can only hope the gods show mercy once you get your hands on him because you’ll do anything but.

The hem of your shirt is lifted to show a slither of your stomach. “My upper or lower half?” Choose.”

Kaeya swallows, mulling it over. By no means is he indecisive, but a sight too lewd will have him spilling into his palm in mere seconds, and then he’s in for it. You tease him enough as it is.

“Show me your chest” he goads, smirking.

The coat is shrugged off, falling around you in a heap of black fabric and expensive-looking fur, and your shirt soon follows. Kaeya has half a mind to chide you for not layering up while in Dragonspine’s vicinity, but you would only call him a hypocrite.

Besides, a glimpse of your bare skin sends him mad. He buckles and grasps a handful of the blanket in his fist, inching closer as a steady heat pulses in the pit of his stomach. The moonbeams paint you well.

“You have that look in your eye like there’s something to be said,” you muse, drifting your fingers up your stomach, tracing the curve of ribs. That same eye follows the movement in fascination. “Spit it out.”

Words have been the source of Kaeya’s vice since he was a child. He’s brilliant with them, and what’s better is that he knows how they can be used to his advantage, how they feed into fear and morph situations to feel scarily real. Yet they fail him now. He stumbles over a jumble of compliments that further tangle in his mouth, melting into sticky caramel on his tongue until he swallows them down and says nothing good at all.

He hums, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Would I?” you echo. “It must be something good, then.”

It can’t be better than the sight of Kaeya crumbling apart. It’s almost cute how he tries to hide it, teeth clamping down on the inside of his cheek, grasping onto the blanket for a semblance of composure, yet his cock throbs with each wave of lust, flushed mauve and aching.

You sidle closer, coaxing his chin up between two fingers. His lips nudge the skin of your chest, and his eye widens pleadingly.

“In the meantime,” you tell him, and it’s all the permission Kaeya needs.

It isn’t the wintry air making you shiver, but the warmth of Kaeya’s tongue. He tilts up and drags open-mouthed kisses across the expanse of your chest, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Heat stirs in the pit of your stomach, heady and consuming, and you arch into his touch. Kaeya doesn’t pause for something as insignificant as breath, because you have never, not once, let him do this.

“Can I mark you?” he rasps between kisses. “Wouldn’t that be fair?”

Kaeya feels himself slipping, his wrist beginning to ache as he pumps his cock quicker, teasing your skin with his teeth. The stretch of time without an answer is excruciating, and he redoubles his efforts, eagerly laving his tongue over your chest until it glistens with spit.

“Please,” he murmurs. Though his voice is muffled into your skin, the desperation lacing each syllable together is clear as day.

You can hardly think, let alone speak. Nothing could have prepared you for how this feels, how Kaeya feels. You’ve fucked him plenty but there’s something raw in the way you lean against one another, chill flitting across every inch of your body that isn’t pressed to him.

This time, it’s need, rather than want alone, that drives you to feel so strongly. It’s strange. A whirlwind of hot and cold, difficult to distinguish from Kaeya as you press closer, nuzzling his hair. His shampoo smells of tangerine and honeysuckle.

“Well?” Kaeya asks, grinning.

You push him closer. “Make it count.”

Kaeya bites down. It’s blunt, jarring, and the sting mellows into a dull ache that radiates outwards from your shoulder. You hadn’t expected him to be quite so rough, but perhaps nothing less should be expected from that razor-sharp smile of his. You twinge with desire, underwear dampening.

Kaeya’s grinning into your skin. He knows he has you.

Your desperation must give you away, unadulterated and lewd as you grind against his bare thigh. You don’t remember starting, yet his skin is shiny with the arousal that seeps through your trousers, making a mess.

You ought to be embarrassed for shamelessly using him for a mere vestige of pleasure, but Kaeya doesn’t appear to mind. His tongue flicks soothingly over the indentation, though not kindly because he groans as his teeth drive into the skin beside it, possessive.

“Gods,” you hiss, lifting a hand to his nape and using it as leverage to better grind against the lithe muscle of his thigh, panting.

The shame is burning your face, now. It’s humiliating how soon, even with a fraying perception of passing time, the pressure mounts in your belly. You come off Kaeya’s thigh with a frustrated noise, impatiently reaching between your bodies to grope his cock. He’s wet and twitches in your hand. Good.

“Inside, now.”

Kaeya’s ego swells. You’re just as desperate, just as eager as he is, and frankly horrible at concealing it. Either that, or you don’t wish to. Both options raise warmth to Kaeya’s cheeks, and he hums in assent.

He falls with you onto the spread blankets, watching in thinly veiled amusement as you fuss with your belt. He’d help if he were allowed to touch you. For now, he settles above you with his hands braced against the ground, cocking an eyebrow as if to say ask me.

You refuse to cede to him so easily, not with a task so menial. The buckle gives way and the moment your belt hangs open, your pants and undergarments are shoved down your thighs and kicked off.

Kaeya chuckles. “Slow down. At this rate, you’re going to knock my head clean off.”

He intercepts the process of shucking off your gloves by catching your hand in his own. He pauses, blinks. That had been instinctive. He slips his fingers beneath the material to pry away the glove after removing your ring. Such a simple point of contact is invigorating, so much so that Kaeya temporarily overlooks his mistake.

His shoulders straighten, rigid. You’ve got that look again. “Ah.”

“No, you’re fine. Just come closer,” you goad, grinning.

Kaeya crawls over your body, leaning into the gentle hand smoothing over the side of his face despite the knowledge of what’s to come. He’s allowed one, two, three seconds before an open palm smack twists his head, and his skin mottles with a red mark.

“There,” you murmur, bringing him down to press your lips to the mark. It’s a mockery of a kiss, considering it isn’t skin-to-skin contact, but Kaeya’s eye flutters closed and he sighs contentedly. “You took that perfectly. Help me undress?”

“You could have led with that perhaps?” he teases.

Nothing is offered in the way of an answer, so Kaeya winks and presses a kiss to your tingling palm, pulling away the glove. He repeats the process calmly and then replaces your thumb ring, as though his cock isn’t heavy between his legs, hot where it presses to the skin of your inner thigh.

Kaeya’s mind is elsewhere—your brow is drawn tight, and sweat beads at your hairline, and the sight burns into his brain. All this imagining is pointless. You’ve made your decision, but…

No. Another plea to join him fizzles out. Kaeya’s reasons don’t matter. He could list each of them and explain the outcomes, but it would be a futile endeavour.

Admittedly, it hurts. A deep, tangible understanding wreathes you together, but Kaeya knows its delicacy cannot be disturbed. He won’t force your hand.

“What are the odds that you’d taken initiative before I arrived and stretched yourself on your fingers?” Kaeya asks, curious. The silence is a sufficient answer. “Allow me the honour, then.”

“I didn’t know you were coming. Besides, I’ve got nothing here,” you supply breathlessly. Waiting another moment is sure to kill you, regardless of how dramatic it may seem. “Not that it matters. You’re wet enough for both of us.”

Kaeya’s head tilts. “You shouldn’t lie.”

“You’re making a mess of my blankets.”

Kaeya glances down. So, he is. Precum dribbles from his slit, and what doesn’t pool on the blankets smears across your thigh with each brush of his cock. Only a week has passed since you saw one another last, and Kaeya has gotten off plenty in that time but that does little to lessen his lust.

“Well, I’ve always had quite the sexual appetite, don’t you think?” Kaeya laughs.

“Captain,” you grouse, shuffling for comfort. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that Kaeya intends to fuck you into the floor until you’re sore and feeling it for weeks to come. You hope as much, at least. “I don’t have forever.”

Kaeya smiles, charming. “Forgive me.”

Distracted, you beckon him closer and pry the hair tie from his wrist. His dark strands fall to cover his face at this angle so you pull them back and fix his hair in a bun. It’s the best you can do from beneath him, and Kaeya offers a quizzical look.

“What? I don’t want to put up with your complaining when I lean on your hair.”

“Are you certain it isn’t so you can have a good look at my face?” he teases, tilting his jaw. The moonlight and lantern glow bleeds together, catching on the uneven ridge of his nose and the quirk of a smile on his lips. You’re taken with him. He meets your gaze. “My, it is.”

You huff. “I’ll stroke your ego later. Fuck me, now.”

“Later, you say? I’m looking forward to it, then.”

Kaeya’s teasing falls silent and large hands press your legs wider. There’s a flicker of embarrassment, being spread out like this, but Kaeya’s eye is kind and doesn’t dare shy away from the vulnerability. He dips down and kisses your neck, rubbing circles into your waist as the tip of his cock pushes against you.

“Slow?” he asks. The hand at your waist is distracting.

You scowl. “Don’t bother.”

Kaeya bullies his thick cock into you with a wry laugh, leaving no room for accommodation as the stretch sears white-hot. All that leaves your mouth is a garbled gasp of his name. It’s so much, too much. Kaeya shushes your struggle for air as though he isn’t the cause.

You aren’t stupid, you know he’s big. It’s hardly a well-kept secret, but he reaches deeper than expected, pressing up against your sweet spot.

“Don’t bother,” Kaeya mimics, yet his voice is weak, shaking. You clench around him and he curses, dropping his head to your shoulder. He’s as affected as you are. “Just a bit more.”

He isn’t all the way in. Your eyes squeeze shut, throat feeling thick as you attempt to swallow. “Get it over with.”

“Come, now,” he chides. “Don’t you think you’re biting off more than you can chew?”

Your voice catches on a hiccuping gasp. “I’m not asking.”

“Of course. How silly of me to forget.”

Kaeya slams in with one, swift thrust, jolting your body carelessly. A pained noise snags in your throat and you pull him closer, fingers digging into his biceps with no remorse for freshly broken skin. Walking very well may prove an issue tomorrow, but he feels far too good for it to matter beyond a fleeting thought.

“Is it good?” he teases with that stupid smirk, but you lack the energy to smack his arm. You nod dumbly, drawing in another staggering breath. The fabric covering your nose and mouth is suffocating. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“I said to get it over with, not to split me in half, you bastard.”

“That’s hardly my fault.”

“Stop looking so happy about it, then,” you grumble.

Kaeya laughs. It’s a lovely sound, but your chest feels tight. You throw your arms around his neck and tether him close. The movement has his cock nudging deeper within you, and the pleasure eclipses the pain of being so thoroughly stretched.

Any remaining patience wanes and you roll your hips against him, inviting.

Thankfully, Kaeya finally, finally obliges.

His pace isn’t a far cry from bruising, much to your delight. The rushing thrum of blood is loud in your ears, swallowing the groan breathed into your neck. Kaeya kisses the skin there and mutters something indistinct. You can’t make sense of the illogical, slurred sounds. Perhaps you would be able to if your mind wasn’t moulding to the blur of his presence above you—a sway of navy and light blue, the glimmer of golden jewellery—but it overtakes until you know nothing else.

Kaeya seems to be losing himself a bit. His eye scrunches shut, face pressing against your heaving chest. Absently, you wonder whether he can feel the erratic pulse of your heart beneath your ribs, then, lucid, you hope he can’t.

“Archons, Sir Kaeya,” you gasp. Your voice is unlike your own. “You certainly don’t hold back.”

“Sir,” he pronounces, almost whiny. “Do away with the formalities, will you? We’re— fuck, more than acquainted, I assure you.”

“Oh, lighten up a little.”

Kaeya’s brow furrows, and he slows into a deep grind. His cock rubbing against your sweet spot dulls any further argument into a low, noncommittal hum, and that’s all he needs.

The hand at your waist grips tighter, then drifts down to squeeze a handful of your thigh, pushing it up against your chest. He shifts his weight and forces his cock deeper, rekindling the steady pulse of pleasure in the pit of your stomach. You had been so close earlier, it easily takes hold of you once more and blooms beneath your skin in a warm haze. Or that’s Kaeya’s hands wandering again, brief yet greedy touches.

You come without warning, pressing closer to Kaeya and muffling a lewd noise into his lean shoulder. He smothers you with honeyed whispers, cradling the back of your head in his palm before your neck strains uncomfortably.

“Shh,” Kaeya hushes you gently, not uttering a word of complaint when your fingers tangle in his tied hair, snagging on the strands. “Hold onto me, and let me just— ngh—”

Your eyes flash open as Kaeya bottoms out again, unforgiving of the overstimulation that rattles you, or your ebbing orgasm. He holds you against his chest, pounding into you with reckless abandon as unbidden moans flow freely from his parted lips.

The feeling of being used, it’s— you understand, now, why Kaeya so willingly sits back and takes it. Your skin prickles with heat, stomach twisting in pleasure with everyone second he treats you as a toy, grasping handfuls of flesh until you bruise.

“So good,” he murmurs, distant. “So warm.”

He’s hardly coherent, you think.

Kaeya spills into you with a strangled groan. His hips slow but not entirely, just barely grinding against you as he feels light for a moment. With your body pressed so tightly between Kaeya and the floor, you shift with each choking breath he takes, emptying himself inside you.

“Captain, you’re crushing me,” you wheeze, smacking his shoulder until his grip slackens the slightest bit. Your head lolls back, still supported by his hand, and his face flickers above you.

Your vision is unclear, but still, you see him with infallible clarity. His star-shaped pupil is blown wide, and you can’t distinguish between its shape and the glittering sky looming over his shoulder, a reminder of the coming dawn.

You don’t want to go, not truly. If time was kinder, you’d drown in Kaeya until morning, tangled, lulled by soft breathing and birdsong. You want him to treat you gently, to thumb away the concern lining the features you haven’t let him see. You want to watch his day-to-day, even if in Mondstadt. You want him.

Gods forbid any of this leaves your mouth. It mustn't because Kaeya’s still drifting somewhere with that faraway look in his eye, beginning to fuck you again in his reverie.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

Kaeya startles, the slow movement of his hips faltering for a brief moment. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” you huff, turning your face away from his sharp gaze. A glimpse of a furrowed brow and a frown reveals that he genuinely believes he misheard, so you fumble with the mask obscuring your face until it slips to the floor. “Come on, just—”

Kaeya’s thumb traces your bottom lip and you fall silent. It’s featherlight, barely there at all. You had expected him to kiss you breathless, to devour you like he does everything else, but he brushes his lips against your cheek, the corner of your eye, leaving a lingering kiss on your forehead before tilting his own against it, sharing air.

Kaeya grins a wild, sharp thing. If you were his enemy, you’d be frightened, but the lanterns’ glow softens the stormy gleam in his eye with what you daren’t say is adoration. A warm feeling bolsters in your chest. Not good.

His hips drive forward, and you jolt with a gasp. Kaeya’s smile splits wider at your reaction, and he does it again, and again, and again until your vision shakes and your mind is sticky like treacle.

“Why aren’t you?”

“Am I so wrong for wanting to make the most of it?” Kaeya teases, but his voice is hushed, meant only for your ears. His hands cradle your face. “Chances are, you may never let me again.”

His words resound through you, sickening. Even in the cold night, you’re burning up, not an inch of space between your bodies as Kaeya hikes your hips higher and presses deeper. Your mind flares with the urge to tell him he isn’t making sense, that he's lost sight of the truth.

But you’ve never been very good at lying to Kaeya.

It’s only once tears prick your eyes that Kaeya kisses you. Slow and purposeful, catching your lips with his, barely even a kiss until he lifts your chin and licks into your mouth.

“Will you tell me something?" The words are muffled against your lips, but you understand too easily what it is he wants. “Just your name. This one thing, if anything.”

You want to cry. His face contorts, determined, and he searches your expression.

He laughs weakly. “Then I’ll be out of your hair, hm?”

“Um,” you murmur, scrubbing at your eyes. It’s on the tip of your tongue, but no good will come of it. “I can’t have someone as sharp as you prying into my past, now, can I? You’d unravel it in moments, Captain.”

Kaeya’s face twists like he’s in pain. That anguished expression smooths out as quickly as he pulls away, setting your body down against the crumpled blankets before turning to the side.

Your stomach sinks like a stone. Fuck.

Without the warmth of his skin and the stretch of him inside of you, you’re empty, aching. Kaeya fusses with strewn articles of clothing, searching for his gloves and fitting them to his hands. He’s—

“Are you leaving?” you ask. “You’re… you’re still hard.”

Kaeya dismisses your worry with a wave of his hand, reaching for another piece of his attire. “As sorry as I am to cut things short, I have to patrol at dawn. I’m sure you understand. It’s quite the trek back to the city, no?”

There’s the rustle of clothing as Kaeya hastily dresses. Like he can’t get away any quicker.

“That’s a lie, otherwise you wouldn’t have come here so late.”

It shouldn’t be surprising, not really. Kaeya lies all the time, and when he’s upset, his words sharpen and lodge somewhere that stings for days. He’s choosing the former. He’s sparing you.

But with momentary bliss long gone, fading, hollow dread tears open your chest. You sit up and pull on your shirt. You don’t typically clean up and dress alone. But Kaeya won’t look at you.

You exhale steadily. “Stay a while. We have an agreement that you’re not to leave immediately.”

Kaeya desperately wants to protest, working his jaw, but he nods. You’re right, after all. It’s for his own good.

He finishes clothing himself wordlessly. You follow.

When Kaeya joins you, the air is considerably colder and your body trembles.

You’re not sure what to do, sitting arm to arm with him, staring at the stretch of white-speckled sky. If you look closely, the furthest stars glint golden. But then you think of Kaeya and his jewellery.

“I’m sor—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

You shrink into yourself and wait. For anything, really. For Kaeya to say that you did this to yourself, that there was never a true chance. No intervention is successful in staving off fate—this, Kaeya knows well.

“I don’t know what I expected,” Kaeya suddenly laughs, high and scathing. “You won’t even use my name unless it’s to your advantage, unless it’s the key to something you want.”

“It isn’t on purpose, it just slips. I want to tell you mine, believe me, but it’s safest that I don’t.”

Kaeya scoffs. He draws a leg to his chest and rests his forearm against it. “Haven’t I made it clear that I’m not looking to get you in trouble? If anything, I’ve been getting you out of it.”

“I know,” you say softly, “but I can’t shake the worry. You must understand that this will follow me around.”

“My, do I seem the type?” he teases, but his voice cracks. Embarrassed, Kaeya clears his throat. “Let me guess. My offer to join the Knights, did you refuse it because I asked?”

You nudge his arm, rolling your eyes. Kaeya leans into it, even if only a little. “Come on, I know how to accept help.”

“No. Because I asked.”

You turn to look at him, expecting a heart-shattering expression, but all you see is Kaeya’s usual indifference, like the answer is one he already has.

“No,” you whisper. “Of course not, Kaeya—”

He turns away.

“—that’s the furthest thing from the truth!”

Your knees press into the ground as you take his unmoving face in your palm, thumbing under his eye. He looks through you.

“The only reason I would take the offer is that you asked.”

“Only, you haven’t, so it isn't enough. Clearly.”

“What? No, fuck.”

Every word you say digs you deeper into this hole. You know you can’t get through to him. Kaeya is receptive to touch, yet he continues to stare as though he can’t feel the pressure of your hands on him.

How quickly a situation worsens when you don’t tell the truth.

“Listen to me,” you whisper. “It’s a letter to home. The parchment. You might believe otherwise but I am trying. And I want to try with you, but—”

“You’re leaving,” he says.

His eye flickers to yours at last, and you wish it hadn’t. His anger has worn away into something raw and scared, like a cornered animal.

”The letter would be filled with empty apologies if I don’t face them myself.”

“Did you think a kiss was an appropriate goodbye?” he scoffs, bristling. Your hand falls from his face and into your lap. “I must say, I didn’t think you had it in you to be quite so cruel”

You swallow. “I didn’t—”

“Oh, you didn’t mean it,” he mocks, his lips stretching into an unfitting grin. “Gods, how many times I’ve heard that one. Are you proud?”

“Proud?” you laugh. “Come on. Do I look proud? Do I look like any of this makes me happy?”

Kaeya quirks an eyebrow. He reaches into your coat pocket and unearths the raven insignia, cast in gold. It’s a mere signet yet Kaeya raises it into your scope of vision like if it were to crack open, the truth would spill out.

“Yes. You cannot seriously think I believe otherwise when this very thing is proof that you will tear down anything to gain stable footing. Don’t fool yourself.”

In spite of himself, Kaeya knows the Knights would benefit from a mind similar to his. The people of Mondstadt are tangled in the restrictive notion of freedom, unable to understand that the best outcome often comes from control.

Neither you nor Kaeya shy away from unfairly seizing a situation in the pursuit of something much larger.

So Kaeya knows when a measly argument is under his thumb. He knows how to shove and deflect and press until the other tips long before he can.

“Who are you to tell me what’s out of line? That insignia is a testament to my methods of survival, so— so strike me down if I hold onto it, I’m sorry.”

Kaeya watches in mild intrigue, still grinning.

“Don’t give me that look. You know I wouldn’t do any of this if I didn’t have to, haven’t I told you that a hundred times? I burned all my bridges long ago, and I lack the skills to make a sincere living. I don’t need some stuck-up knight deciding what’s good for me, nor do I need y—“

Kaeya knows when he’s won, but you do, too. Regret sears deep in your chest and you slump back. You don’t mean that. This ordeal has unnerved you, and you misstep where you usually prosper.

“That isn’t… that isn’t true. You tricked me into—“ Into turning on him. “Archons’ sake, Kaeya. You won’t feel any better if it’s me who’s angry, and not you.”

After that, he doesn’t say much. You watch the gentle drift of snow reach the grass, the yellow flutter of a crystalfly in the distance. The lanterns have begun to smoulder, so the view isn’t obscured by light.

Kaeya’s still holding your insignia. He tosses it into the air and catches it. Over and over until the movement sends you dizzy.

If you could bare your mind to him, you would. He could understand, then. There’s so much that he doesn’t understand, blinded by tainted logic. This is a case of need, not want. You need to deliver the letter in person, otherwise, all it will contain are hollow promises that only you can decipher. But you want to stay. You do.

Kaeya clears his throat. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow, I guess. I was waiting for you to come. I couldn’t just disappear.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Kaeya sneers, rubbing a hand over his face. Tiredness is catching up to him. “After that little performance, I was sure you’d stick around.”

You sigh, reiterating, “I didn’t kiss you for the fun of it.”

“At least, if you chose to disappear, I could have convinced myself you were killed. It’s a reasonable deduction, is it not? Much easier to swallow than you just up and left.”

“If I could stay, I would.”

“Well. What use is that?”

“We’re not getting anywhere, are we?”

“What do you think?”

Kaeya throws the insignia again, antsy, and you snatch it midair. The sudden movement knocks the crate, and the stack of books atop it slides off the edge. Kaeya instinctively turns to right them, even if they will be packed away come morning. He lets them linger in his hands a moment longer than what is necessary, feigning interest in the covers, though he can’t read the script.

The angle makes the lump in his pocket dig into his skin. He blinks, remembering, and you hear the rustle of foil before Kaeya presses something flat into the palm of your hand.

“It’s going to melt in my pocket,” he explains.

Bemused, you peel back the foil and bite back an untimely smile. “Had you forgotten that you packed a snack for the road, Captain?”

“I figured you would like something sweet to tide you over,” he says whimsically. “Aren’t I kind?”

“Very. Thank you.”

Normally, you have no longer than a small window of time to duck into a house and nab essentials, so chocolate is an unfamiliar taste on your tongue, but unbelievably good. For a moment, you pretend not to notice that Kaeya watches your expression from the corner of his eye, but temptation gets the better of you and you waggle your fingers at him. He glances away.

“Come on,” you murmur to get his attention. He turns, poised to argue once more, but you gently pry open his jaw and push a shard of chocolate into his mouth before closing it.

Kaeya exhales through his nose, turning away. This time, he lets his arm press to yours. It’s as good as you’ll get.

“I’m sorry for what I said a moment ago. This isn’t your fault, and I can’t imagine not waiting for your next visit. I need you as much as I need anything else, really.”

He nods. All you know is need because you don’t have enough to want.

Suppose Kaeya should be flattered that he’s interspersed between the two—someone you need, but can’t afford to want. Kaeya stifles a laugh. How tragic.

”I won’t make a promise I can’t keep,” you begin, steady, “but if the circumstances were different—”

“Please don’t bore me to death with the what-ifs,” Kaeya interjects. Surprised, you look at him. “What a waste of time that is.”

With that, he drops his head into your lap, staring up at the canvas of the tent. His eye flutters closed as though teetering on the edge of sleep.

There’s a dull crack as you snap off another block of chocolate, and Kaeya expectantly opens his mouth.

You scoff. “Get lost. This is my gift.”

“Goodness. That might be the meanest thing you’ve said yet,” he complains petulantly, mumbling in gratitude when you tsk and feed him more chocolate.

The next half-hour is spent like this. Neither of you speaks much—words have been exhausted, anyway—but the quiet is as pleasant as the situation allows for. At some point, your hands tangle in his hair and absentmindedly twirl and plait the strands.

You almost forget.

Then Kaeya stirs.

“Time up?”

Kaeya only nods, leaning forward until he’s sitting. He reaches a hand back to rub his nape, but it snags on the state you left behind in your consternation. He pats it once, twice, and then leaves it be.

A tremor cuts through his posture. “Indeed, it is.”

“Well, I trust you have the sense to pass through Dragonspine on the way home, rather than decide to scale any wet cliffs while it’s dark,” you say, shrugging off your coat. “It’s nowhere near extravagant enough for you, Sir Kaeya.”

He smiles. “To fall to my death?”

“No, to make a complete fool of yourself by slipping.”

Amused, Kaeya huffs out a short laugh as you drape your coat over his shoulders, busying yourself with pulling stray pieces of hair from beneath the hood as Kaeya fixes it to fit.

You pat his shoulders. “Good to go?”

“Depends,” he hums. “Will I get the opportunity to return your coat? A word of advice… a visit or two into the city would go off without a hitch if you lost all that gear. How nice would that be? A little vacation in Mondstadt to liberate yours truly from boredom.”

“I told you I won’t make any promises.”

Kaeya’s expression falls but he’s quick to put on a nonchalant smirk, nodding. “Of course.”

Kaeya stands and dusts off his trousers. He doesn’t look at you, nor do you look at him, as he gently pats the crown of your head. Then, he’s off.

As simple as that.

A bout of nausea passes through you, watching him walk away, but you can’t afford to slow for a distraction. An old rucksack is hauled off the floor and you stash anything important inside. It’s a familiar routine. You must have followed the steps a dozen times within the past year.

You stack your books at the bottom, layer them with a spare change of clothes, place loose items on top—unpawned jewellery, a small pouch of mora, your—

Shit.

Frantically, you glance around, patting the blankets to see if it had gotten lost beneath them. No. It’s nowhere to be seen.

You had placed it in your pocket.

You jump to your feet and sprint out of the tent in the direction Kaeya left. It’s agony to run, and difficult to find him amongst the dense thicket and the snow falling from the sky in clusters, but the pulsing glow of his Vision alerts you of his presence.

You run, heart racing. Kaeya’s just past the outcrops of Dragonspine, crossing a rickety wooden bridge.

“Captain, you’ve got my— Hey!”

Startled, Kaeya abruptly turns on his heel as you near, struggling for cold air. For a brief second, he looks hopeful. Your heart fractures all over again.

He catches you before you collide, steadying himself with a hand on the bridge. “Changed your mind about the coat, have you?”

Your chest burns. “I need— pocket watch, please.”

Kaeya nods, checking each pocket until he procures the item. He holds it up by the chain and it swings in the wind. The metal is scratched and rusting, and Kaeya doesn’t understand why you had sprinted and shouted for it. “This old thing? Perhaps I’d have known it was stashed away if it actually ticked.”

“It’s been broken for years,” you pant, holding out your hand. “Family heirloom. I need it, otherwise… I don’t think they would recognise me.”

“Right.” The watch is dropped into your open palm, a heap of cold metal and a brush of colder fingertips. “I’ll be on my way. Keep yourself safe, hm? I’m afraid you now have to say goodbye again.”

Your eyes sting. Right. Wordlessly, you pull Kaeya into a tight hug and his arm coils around your waist, even tighter if it were possible.

So much goes unsaid.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into his neck. “This is the last thing you deserve.”

The only response Kaeya gives is a hum. He’s sparing you again, pretending that saying nothing at all shields you from the pain of his words.

Had you done the same… No, that wouldn’t have worked.

Kaeya’s lips press to your forehead.

Then he’s untangling himself from your arms and heading down that worn path, guided by distant torches and a starry sky.

You watch him go.

Your vision blurs until there’s two of him, then three, then empty space.

Gods, how quickly you fuck things up

As Kaeya passes through an alleyway deep within Mondstadt, his arms stretch high and wide until his spine cracks, and the tips of his fingers graze the bricks on either side.

Once he steps out from its cover and is momentarily blinded by the mid-morning sunshine, he draws himself up again.

It’s ideal that the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius isn’t seen stretching while surveying the bustling streets, lest he appears inactive and unable to fend off a potential looming threat.

Which, these days, is more the threat of a missing cat’s claws, but Kaeya can’t openly complain.

There isn’t much to do, what with that flame-wielding vigilante inadvertently ensuring that Kaeya has a surplus of downtime as of late, although this was undoubtedly not his intention.

So Kaeya roams the main streets, pausing to allow an old lady to pinch his cheeks and gush about what a bright young lad he is, and an even better knight. He accepts it with nothing more than polite platitudes and a bashful smile, though his ears are burning by the time he escapes to the marketplace, circling the large fountain.

Kaeya always craves something sweet when the morning is well underway, but it would be improper for a knight to waltz into a tavern at this hour—although it doesn’t stop them—and demand a glass of wine, so that’s off the table. Plus, he’s still on the clock.

Kaeya wonders whether buttering Sara up would gain him some favour, and he would be permitted to use the stove at Good Hunter to make a snack. The elderly of Mondstadt tend to share their secret recipes with the Captain, though he isn’t certain why. Trust, maybe.

Naturally, Kaeya’s personal plans are soon eclipsed by duty.

A man is making a mad dash toward Kaeya. An impressive one, at that—dodging crowds and leaping over flower boxes, shouting incoherent nonsense.

Only when he nears does Kaeya discern a few words of importance, these being Master Diluc and scuffle.

Suddenly, Kaeya’s day isn’t so bleak.

“Slow down before you trip, Nelson,” Kaeya calls. The man does no such thing, careening around a mother and her child before they all go flying.

Kaeya heaves a heavy sigh and comes closer to apologise to the woman, then bends one knee and demonstrates his perfected disappearing coin trick to keep the child from weeping. It’s easy enough.

“A scuffle, you say?” Kaeya comments once they’re out of earshot, and Nelson frantically nods.

“Angel’s Share!” he pants, folding in on himself as he tries and fails to catch his breath. He reeks of booze, so much so that even Kaeya’s nose wrinkles. “At Angel’s Share, Sir Kaeya!”

It seems Kaeya will get his wish, after all. As he sets off in the tavern’s direction at a brisk pace, he contemplates how he can spin this guaranteed problem-solving victory to earn himself a free drink.

He’s half tempted to take his sweet time. As much as Kaeya wants to let the situation smoulder in the name of spite, Diluc will only kick up a dreadful fuss about the Knights’ incompetency if Kaeya arrives a second later than what is deemed timely, so he passes the alchemy bench in mere seconds and rounds the corner, Nelson trailing behind.

Halfway there, Nelson trades his spew of insignificant details for a dramatic reenactment of events, and there isn’t a doubt in Kaeya’s mind that his dear companion had left his sense somewhere amongst tankards of ale.

Still, Kaeya listens attentively on the off chance Nelson says something of use.

He doesn’t.

When Kaeya rounds the corner and catches a glimpse of the chaotic scene, his interest piques. After all, it isn’t most days that Diluc rushes out of the tavern without taking the time to don his overcoat, nor is it typical that Diluc looms over one of the outdoor tables, his shoulders squared as he berates someone Kaeya can’t quite see. Even from a distance, Kaeya can hear the angry grumble of his voice—delightful as ever.

Kaeya draws closer and Nelson stumbles through the tavern’s door, swinging it shut behind him. The noise alerts Diluc and he glances over his shoulder, turning his body once he notices that it’s Kaeya who has come.

“Wonderful,” Diluc scoffs, sounding as unimpressed as Jean when Kaeya’s paperwork is late. Perhaps Kaeya has been gearing up for the wrong storm. “Just the person I need.”

It’s comforting that Diluc doesn’t bother with niceties, but Kaeya will tease regardless. However, before he has the opportunity to ask what in the world he’s insinuating, Diluc continues his little tirade.

“You can escort this thieving wretch off my premises and to headquarters.”

“There wouldn’t happen to be a reason, would there, Master Diluc?”

The drunkards loitering outdoors, intent on witnessing a scrap, slump their shoulders now that Kaeya has arrived. He hates to ruin their fun, really. But there’s a pang of pride in his chest knowing they believe that he, rather than Diluc, can resolve the situation despite being unaware of the details.

“Don’t be stupid. Of course there’s a reason.”

Kaeya’s head tilts, gesturing. “Which is…?”

“A bottle of wine that had been left unattended was stolen, so I would greatly appreciate it if this situation could be dealt with swiftly. I’ve been so kind as to do half of your job for you and find the culprit.”

“My, it must have been excellent wine to be worth all this hassle. If anything, shouldn't you value this as praise?”

Diluc purses his lips, opting to bite his tongue rather than speak his mind. Already, Kaeya’s getting on his last nerve, which he tends to do at the worst moments.

“I value praise in the form of words and not stolen goods, Sir Kaeya. Ensure that protocol is adequately followed.”

There’s a quip caught in Kaeya’s throat about Diluc remembering Favonius conduct, but there is also a throng of people surveying the conflict and Kaeya can’t afford to antagonise his brother beyond harmless teasing.

Besides, the thought is quickly displaced.

Diluc shifts his weight, and Kaeya catches sight of the person he was obscuring. His heart lurches in his chest, but his face remains stony.

Very interesting, indeed.

“Is it protocol to wrangle customers out the door? I’ll have these bruises for days,” comes your voice, testing. Diluc turns. “Allow me to apologise again, but I really had believed that bottle was abandoned and for the taking.”

He glares. “Not another word.”

“Aren’t we too old to be having petty arguments?” Kaeya muses. He paces, arms up and then turns until he meets your gaze with a wink. You grin.

Diluc looks disgusted. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That thing you did with your face a moment ago.”

Kaeya laughs in disbelief, setting a hand against his chest and leaning forward. “Do you mean blinking? What a strange question. Though, I do recall that instance you dozed off with your eyes wide open… like one of those curious blinking dolls that a child has knocked against the floor one time too many—”

“No, you winked.”

“Well, who knows?” Kaeya reaches up and taps his eyepatch thrice.

Diluc opens his mouth to retort, but he must decide Kaeya is undeserving of his effort because he promptly snaps it shut, grumbling, “Whatever. See to it that your job is done.”

Kaeya no longer has reason to conceal his amusement once Diluc stalks off into the tavern, boasting a dour expression and tense shoulders. The door loudly closes behind him, and the horde of nosy patrons follow suit.

Then Kaeya turns to you.

“Hello, Captain. It’s been a moment.”

“Indeed, it has,” he hums, drawing closer. Being seated makes Kaeya seem much taller, and once he reaches you, you’re basking in his shadow. “I have to ask, did you steal that wine?”

Laughing, you stand, a scant inch of space between your bodies. It would be wise to play it safe while in public—after all, Kaeya is an important figure and there are still denizens lingering nearby—but your rationale falters when in his presence.

“Why? Are you going to arrest me?”

Kaeya lifts his shoulders into a shrug. His fur collar tickles your cheek. “I have every right to. I can’t believe you attempted to steal wine from under the owner’s nose.”

“And if I did it on purpose?” you challenge. “It was the easiest way to lure you out.”

“Easier than asking a passerby? Not quite.”

You avert your eyes, flustered. You must have lost your edge in the months since your last conversation, but really, lying to Kaeya had always proven difficult.

“I thought I would be better received if I came bearing gifts. Or wine, in this case, given how Mondstadters are.”

“Tell me, did you expect to share one bottle between hundreds of city folk?”

You give him a look. “I was talking about you.”

Kaeya’s eye creases in amusement. “I know. I simply wanted to see if you would admit to procuring me a gift.”

You curse and knock the side of your shoe against his shin in a warning. Still, Kaeya doesn’t flinch. Your heart feels lighter knowing the smaller things haven’t changed.

“If you won’t arrest me, Captain, it would be smart to pretend to. For your image, of course.”

Kaeya grimaces. “Right. Concerning that—”

A loud hiccup garners his attention, and he turns to the source of the sound. From a stack of barrels, a stumbling bard emerges. He sways for a moment, then spots a receipt tacked onto the fabric of his cape and groans as he tries and fails to snatch it off. Then the bard spins, following the flourish of his green cape like a dog chasing its own tail.

“Where’s—” The bard doubles over, dizzy, and then scrambles to his feet as though the stone floor is iced over. “My wine! It was right— guh, that doesn’t feel good… Right here! Wait. No, it wasn’t…”

Kaeya feels the dull throb of a headache fester in his skull, taking your wrist in his hand before he can be called over to locate that bottle of wine. “If you would be so kind as to follow me.”

As Kaeya leads you away, into a lower part of the city, you look back at the bard as he bumps into a pile of chairs and loses his hat. “Poor fool,” you snicker, then return your attention to Kaeya. “Where are we going?”

“Someplace quiet.”

It’s too curt of a response for Kaeya, and it dredges up deep-rooted worry.

Of course, you considered all outcomes prior to arriving at the city gates. Most of them set you on edge.

It would be reasonable that Kaeya’s upset has twisted into anger or regret. That, in the time you were apart, he came to believe that your apologies were shallow.

They left a bitter taste in your mouth at the time because a few practised words couldn’t hold a candle to the pieces of yourself that you would have given to him, had you not been so cruel.

Mild dislike is all you can hope for, unbefitting Mondstadt’s light atmosphere.

Instead, Kaeya scolds you as he walks a few paces ahead, “As tempting as it is, please refrain from picking meaningless fights with wine tycoons.”

“You must have more to say to me than that.”

Kaeya’s fingers flex around your wrist, agitated. He guides you up numerous stairways and away from the centre of the city. The bustle of people thins until there are few around, and Kaeya turns another corner.

The location that Kaeya takes you to is a secluded courtyard, shielded by high walls and shrubs, a windmill casting the space in shadow. There are plenty of benches but you settle on the cool stone of the fountain, dipping your fingers into the still water as Kaeya stands before you.

“Seeing you again is nice. I knew that strangers charade wouldn’t last,” Kaeya says, crossing his arms. He softens. “You look well.”

“Ah, so you can see me. Back there, I’d thought that you had forgotten me. Until you gave it away, of course. Very funny.”

“Me? Forget a face like that? You wound me, honestly.”

“Flattery will definitely get you somewhere.”

Kaeya chuckles. He watches a falcon follow the wind overhead, swooping down to perch on a red-tiled roof. “I presume that things back home didn’t go quite to plan.”

You meet Kaeya’s gaze, smiling. “It isn’t so surprising. I wasn’t lying when I told you I burned those bridges, yet I still assumed it would be as simple as showing up. And here I am, doing it again in hopes of a different outcome. Gods.”

Kaeya looks at you sadly. You focus on the distance landscape—rough, jagged mountains and a Statue of the Seven haloed in teal light.

Knowing where you stand is harder than you anticipated.

“Goodness. I almost believed you came for the coat.”

Your heart warms. “You still have it?”

“The needlework is masterful, and I wouldn’t dream of having to part with it,” he answers with a wave of his hand. His voice weakens. “I wasn’t quite ready.”

“If you’ve taken a liking to it, it’s all yours. Not like it was mine in the first place, so if the owner happens to recognise it, you can take the brunt of their anger on my behalf, Captain.”

Kaeya chuckles, a light and airy sound. Adoration simmers in your veins, bolstering as Kaeya kneels on the cobblestones and draws shapes into your knee with his thumb. He looks at a loss for words, as rare as that is.

No matter.

”I missed you.”

Kaeya nods.

”To tell the truth, I also missed Mondstadt.”

“It’s a beautiful city.”

“So, it is,” you agree, “but by itself, it isn’t enough. I think you’re just something else, Captain.”

He exhales. ”Is that good or bad?”

”Aren’t I here?” Your hand clutches onto Kaeya’s. He doesn’t shake you off. “I won’t bore you with an endless explanation, but I realised I would have come back to you regardless of the outcome at home. It isn’t— Too much time has passed since I’ve considered it that, and it isn’t the same.”

Kaeya recalls lonesome strolls on the eve of his birthday, catching crystalflies around a house preserved in his memories. Family strays too quickly.

You continue, “Point is, I want you. And I want you to still want me.”

Emotion stings his throat. His head drops and rests against your knees, almost reverent. You don’t like it. You don’t deserve it, not really.

You pry Kaeya up, holding his face with as much tenderness as you can muster.

“Will you have me?”

“My, that depends on whether you will hound me each day. I get enough of that from the Knights, you see—”

You smack his shoulder. “Oi, behave. My heart is in your hands here, Captain.”

“Right, yes, be gentle, and all that.”

“Come on,” you whisper. He squeezes your knee. “Give me another go at this.”

“How glad I am to hear that.”

Kaeya kisses you. His hands are calloused and warm on either side of your face, his lips silken against yours. Anything else you had to say melts into a pleased hum and you slump against him, a hand shooting out to grasp onto his shoulder before you drop into the fountain water.

It’s brief. Chaste. But your heart pounds after, showing no signs of slowing as Kaeya draws back and tilts his forehead against yours.

You swallow. “That’s a good start.”

Kaeya nods slowly, carefully readjusting your hand to lay against his jaw. “That, it is. However…” A wicked grin stretches across his face, all sharp teeth and a mirthful gleam in his eye. “I regret to inform you that I do have to arrest you for your little stunt earlier.”

“You’re having me on.”

“Quite the opposite. You see, that grumpy bastard you picked a fight with will personally oversee that I deal with you accordingly. Believe me when I say this isn’t my choice.”

You heave a sigh, but Kaeya only laughs and taps your cheek. He’s enjoying this far too much.

“Can I not settle it with him?” you ask, wincing.

“I wouldn’t recommend even trying your hand, so don’t go getting any bizarre ideas, now.”

Your forehead thumps against his chest in defeat. The rumble of laughter alleviates your stress a little, though it quickly turns sour with the knowledge that the next couple of days will be spent in Mondstadt’s jail.

“And your offer?”

Kaeya pensively hums for a heartbeat longer than what is necessary, smiling when you pinch his side. “That depends. So long as you behave, I see no reason that will keep you from being my informant.”

“You say that like I don’t know how.”

“Perhaps stealing a bottle of wine as soon as you arrived wasn’t a sage idea.” Absentmindedly, he pats the crown of your head. “Alas, we could have drank together as soon as this evening if you had behaved. Instead, you’ve greeted me with a long, long night of paperwork, for which, by the way, I will need a name.”

You roll your eyes, and the flutter of eyelashes against the bare skin of Kaeya’s chest makes him shiver. “Maybe I'll tell you over that drink."

”That isn’t how this works.”

You shush him, calmed by the warmth of his skin. “Let me have this one.”

He laughs into your hair. “I’ll pretend, just this once.”

#kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #genshin x reader #kaeya smut #genshin impact #fics #sub kaeya #sub genshin #genshin smut

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ebbpettier · 1 year ago

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i've been waiting for this day. my final battle with the logistics. gentlemen, it's been an honor. thank you for asking this, i was waiting for someone to ask.

THE SHORT, EASY ANSWER: magic

THE LONG, UNNECESSARY ANSWER:

i briefly considered giving penny goggles instead of glasses, but there were a few problems with that.

the shape was awkward. it didn't really read easily in the same way that glasses do. since they're tight against the head, the cat-eye shape doesn't have nearly as clear of a silhouette, and i scrapped it pretty quickly

i wasn't sure where penny would have acquired them. i didn't really go into it on tumblr, but one of the things i wanted to do in order to separate simon from the other mermaids was by giving him human junk, and by giving the others a lot of natural materials for clothes and jewelry. (in theory penny could have picked up a pair of human swimming-goggles for herself, but i wanted to draw a parallel between her disdain for american mages mixing too much with normals, and mermaids mixing with humans.) they could have been mermaid-constructed, but that raised some more issues. glasses can be made with ... well. glass. glass and metal wire, both of which could hypothetically be smelted in a volcanic vent. mermaid-goggles could have had a leather or woven strap, but in order to be real goggles they would need some kind of rubber-y seal around the edges, or they wouldn't be watertight. (i couldn't figure out where a mermaid would get/make rubber. also: see #1.)

the goggles would have had to break physics a little to be viable. hear me out. (i am going into this assuming that humans and mermaids have similar eye-anatomy, in terms of socket/lid/stalk placement. ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT A PHYSICIST, I JUST SWIM A LOT. OCEAN GO BRRRR.) when you dive underwater with any small pocket of air, there is ALWAYS a certain depth at which that pocket of air will implode. full stop. water is something like 800 times denser than air, which means it's also heavier. the deeper you go, the more that external pressure increases. when the external pressure increases, the internal pressure also increases to try to create an equilibrium. since the air inside of the container is less dense (less matter, fewer molecules to distribute) they wig the hell out, and the material will usually deform in order to try to fill the excess empty space. if you've ever watched a video of someone putting marshmallows in a chamber and then removing all the air or used one of those as-seen-on-tv vacuum-sealed bags, it's the same principle. you can also probably guess where this is going. if you don't want it spelled out, skip past the red.

!GROSS PART INCOMING!

when you're diving with goggles on, there is no way to vent pressure in or out without filling them with water. with a diving-mask, there are ways to pressurize them down to a certain depth, but you can't do this with goggles. you dive deeper; the pressure increases; the material of the container begins to deform in order to fill that empty space.

unfortunately, in this instance, the container is goggles and the contents are your face and eyes. diving too deep with goggles on--which isn't that deep to begin with--can actually pull your eyes right out of the socket. even if it doesn't damage your eyes, it can still cause bruising and sometimes permanent scarring around the places where the cup was suctioned to your skin.

!GROSS PART OVER!

they are a tool specialized for surface-swimming, and surface-swimming ONLY. when used properly, they're pretty safe as far as underwater eye-protection goes! there's just no way for mermaids to use them safely. (and before you ask 'why not fill them with water', i did consider that too. unfortunately i think the same applies to water-pressure, and the goggles would have to be completely open with no water-tight seal which is just a pair of glasses with extra steps) "SO," I BRAZENLY ASSUME YOU ASK, "WHY IS PENNY STILL WEARING GLASSES IF THEY DON'T WORK UNDERWATER?" i have prepared three answers for you, and i bid you choose the one that you like best:

they're enchanted. they just work. don't think about it too hard. it's a little like spongebob lighting a campfire underwater. she has a pair of magic glasses that work underwater, this is commonplace and not at all a weird thing for a mermaid to have.

they don't work at all, and penny is just wearing them because she likes them. they do nothing for her. she can't see a damn thing. she might have even poked the lenses out of them, how would she know? she's wearing earrings too, it's not like they serve some greater purpose.

they're for when she isn't in the water. penny might think that mouth-breathers (humans) are easy to write off due to their lack of magic*, but that's NOT going to stop her from reading land-books. if you tell her she's not allowed to read the land-books, that'll just make her want to read them harder. *and gills, and beaks, and flukes. honestly, they're lacking all manner of necessary body parts. four is SUCH an arbitrary number of chambers for a heart to have! penny has three, which is a much more reasonable number.

TL;DR: penny doesn't have goggles because i think the glasses look better. and also because realistically, the goggles would have injured her in a way i found upsetting.

mermaid hair don't care ✨

#just to be safe even though it's all text (no images):#cw eye trauma #i bracketed the gross part in red just in case anyone needs to skip it #THIS IS MOSTLY SILLY BUT I PROMISE I DID HAVE ACTUAL LOGIC (and the logic is Gross Physics)

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siempre-pedro · 3 years ago

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Run Away With Me

Kang Sae-Byeok x Fem!Reader

Summary: She won the prize, well at least half of it. A gold card burned a hole in her hand as she looks at you for the first time in 2 weeks. She was here to get you, steal the girl and make a grand getaway.

WC: 1.4k

A/N:...do you remember when I wrote fanfics? lol we're gonna pretend Sae and Gi-Hun won the damn thing. This is probably my worst writing, it's hella messy...we'll consider this a warm up. I tried to edit this...kinda. Pls be kind XD

Want to request a Sae-Byeok fic? My inbox is open!

You should have already been in bed, lights turned off to take the pain away for another 8 hours. Yet here you were, lights dimly illuminating your apartment in the sky, ant-like people still stumbling home on a late Sunday night. You hated to glance at the faint reflection of yourself in the tall windows. Eyes nearing permanent red, and when was the last time you washed your hair? Since when was dry shampoo not your lifeline?

Right, when she stayed the night and begged to use your new shampoo so her hair would smell like yours. Wonder if it still smelled that way where ever she was? You pulled her favorite jacket closer to your frame, tears threatening to make their long-awaited appearance. Your thoughts raced again, where was she? Why did she disappear like that? Was she safe? Why didn't she take you with her?

It's been two weeks since she left you, tossing her things into a duffle bag, hurriedly making her way out of your apartment.

"Where are you going Sae?" you recalled yourself asking that fateful night.

"I need to make money," she responds in a hushed tone. You reach out and grab her arm, turning her around. The fear was apparent in her deep brown eyes. "I have to get my mom a-and Cheol. They're depending on me."

"Sae, let my family help. Please! We can get your mom and your brother and we can go somewhere! Just like we planned. Jeju? Remember?"

"I'm not a charity case, Y/N," she spats, "I have to do this on my own. I'll be back in a few days."

You didn't think that would be the last kiss she ever gave you. It was like she was desperately etching every detail of your lips to memory. She walked out the door and those few days turned into two weeks.

Shaking your head you turn away from the windows, your palms over your aching eyes to wipe the stinging tears away. Instantly regretting putting on mascara that day "Fuck," you muttered.

Once you removed your hands everything appeared blurry, you winced and blinked rapidly as you looked around. Everything was eventually coming together, even that blob by your front door. Wait a minute. You took a few steps and rubbed your eyes.

That blob was not a figment of your imagination. Sae-Byeok was there in the flesh. First, you were in astonishment that she returned to you, then you got a look at her. Wearing the same clothes she wore when she left, her eyes were dark with her left sporting a deep black eye. Her once plush, full lips were split and stained with blood... as was the rest of her.

"Sae-Byeok!" You gasped, running towards the stoic figure, wrapping her in the tightest hug you could muster. Sae winced and wrapped her lanky arms around her lover. Her fingertips feel the cool of her windbreaker, re-learning the smell of her sweet perfume, a complete contrast to the constant smell of blood and gunpowder. "Where were you?" you sobbed through gritted teeth.

She wasn't ready to answer that question, her tears falling from her bruised eyes "We need to go," she croaks, holding your face in her hands, her thumbs pressing into your jawbone. Your hands cover her wrists, eyebrow raised in question.

"Why are you all bloody?"

"We need to get away, now," she pleads, the panic rising. Oh fuck... it dawned on her what if they come back...those demons in pink and shaped masks. Coming to take the little gold card in her pocket "We need to go...we'll come back I promise, my love, but we have to go! Y/N!"

You still stood there dumbfounded as she hurriedly crossed the room and down the hall, limping into your room. The sounds of closet doors opening and hushed curses hit your ears. You felt paralyzed. Did she kill someone? Maybe it was the guy with the tacky neck tattoo you had the displeasure of meeting one day.

Your eyes spot your keys and purse on the coffee table "we need to go," echoes in your mind. Your feet finally began to move, draping the bag across your body, phone removed from its charger and hurriedly stuck in your back pocket. "Ready?" Sae-Byeok pants, her fingers running through her bangs, the other clutching the handle to your suitcase.

You nod and close the blinds, making your way to her. She grips your wrist tightly as she forces you through the door. Her eyes never glanced back, always looking forward at the silver doors to the elevator.

She never explained what happened while on the way down to the street, you asked but she remained tight-lipped. Whatever it was it must have been traumatized, like the time she tried to open up about North Korea.

You make your way onto the pavement, she fumbled with the keys in her pocket. When she finally hit the button she wanted, the alarm to a car beeped Your head whipped around to see a very expensive-looking car parked in front of the building "I-is that yours?"

Sae smirked and shook her head "It's a loaner," she said. That asshole Deok-Su owed her for all the pain. She breathed in the warm summer air, they were mid steps from true freedom. It was calming.

"You stole the keys," you assumed, looking back at her. Dare you say she looked normal...her sly confident demeanor was there again just with a few more cuts and bruises. She looked at you and nodded with that smirk on her lips that gave you butterflies.

You stepped forward and reached up, gliding your fingertips up the sides of her face "Where did you go?" You asked again.

She looked down at her shoes, then back up at you "I really don't want to talk about it right now... I just want to get us away from here." she reaches in her pocket and clutches the gold card.

Reaching up on your tippy-toes you placed your lips over hers, you could hear her breath hitch. he gently pulls back and places her forehead on yours "Are you ready?"

You had no idea what she went through in the time she was gone, but here she was. Telling you to run away with her, taking you away from the city like she promised so many times in late-night conversations. You suddenly had no desire to know what happened. The need to get in the car and let her take you wherever she wanted, and maybe let you tend to her wounds.

You nod and smile, she was finally back "Yeah, Sae. Let's go."

#kang sae byeok #sae byeok x reader #sae byeok x you #sae byeok x y/n #squid game #squid game imagines #jung hoyeon

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shycoconutt · 3 years ago

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I Found My Light (Kakashi x Reader)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

A/n: Sound the alarms! It’s my first ever writing post! I’ve had this written for a while tbh, and I feel like I’m ready to start getting into this.

Summary: A late-night walk turns into a rekindled friendship.

Word Count: 2300

Warnings: fem!reader, SFW (but might not be later lol)

You opened your eyes for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight. Staring at the white ceiling, you sighed. Sleep seemed to evade you recently, a side effect of the recent dreariness of your life. You found yourself living the same days over and over again. Because of this, the line between day and night started to fade.

The moon was full tonight, you noticed as it shined brightly through your open window. It was the perfect temperature out, warm but chilly enough to feel comfortable wrapped in your blankets. You love listening to the occasional sounds that occurred outside, the noise of leaves rustling in the wind being your favorite.

Your gaze left the moon and landed back on your ceiling. Why is something as simple as sleeping so hard? Gods, all you wanted was an escape. With a huff, you pushed the covers off of you and sat up from your lying position. Trying to force yourself to sleep would do more harm than good right now.

You make your way to your dresser and pull out your favorite pair of black joggers. You love them because they are tight on your ankles, loose on your legs, and have a cinched band at the waist. They are perfect for any lazy day. You slip them on over your underwear, you never go to bed with pants on, and exchange your sleep shirt for a cropped black hoodie made from the same soft, elastic material as your pants.

You turn to face your large standing mirror in the corner of the room to assess your appearance. The all-black look was your favorite, especially since it will help you blend into the night. Your hair was a mess, so you decided to put it up in a loose bun on the top of your head and pull out some strands to frame your face. It felt good to not look so polished and put together. Your jonin uniform was not the most comfortable piece of clothing, especially with the way it hit your figure.

You walked out of your bedroom and across the kitchen to the front door of your apartment. One foot after the other, you slide into your sandals and grab the key to your apartment hanging on the hook next to you. With that, you leave your apartment and head out into the night.

You walked the streets of Konoha at a gingerly pace. It was probably around 3 a.m. at this point, and there wasn’t a single soul on the street with you. You make your way past the line of shops on the main street, including your favorite bakery where you'd treat yourself to a lemon square after coming back from a long mission. You thought about that lemon square a lot when you were out risking your life, embarrassingly enough.

A couple of turns later and you found yourself heading towards your favorite place in all of Konoha, a little area of woods towards the perimeter that contained this amazing koi pond. Although it was nighttime and the fish wouldn’t be as active, you still want to check to see if you can watch any. To your surprise, your favorite koi, who you nicknamed “Nishi'', was out and swimming around by himself. You sit criss-cross in the grass and watch as he glides through the calm water, almost putting you in trance. Nishi didn’t look or act like the others; He was black with white, almost silver-looking spots and he was less frantic in nature. You sway from side to side as you watch him, thinking to yourself about how you would like to be more like Nishi.

“You look cute watching the koi.” You heard a soft, yet unwavering voice declare behind you.

“Holy sh-” You almost jump out of your pants at the unexpected presence. Surprised, you quickly turn your head around to see who’s voice that could possibly be. To your disbelief, there lies a figure perched up by a tree a couple yards away from you. Their feet were crossed, legs extended, one hand in the pocket of their pants, the other holding up what looks like a copy of Icha-Icha, head turned towards you, and wild hair moving with each passing breeze. How did I not notice him?

“Oh I’m sorry (y/n), I didn’t mean to startle you. I figured you knew I was here because you walked right past me.” He brought his hand up to scratch the back of his head and let out a small chuckle. “Guess I should have made my presence known right away.”

Still in disbelief, you get up and slowly make your way towards the figure, stepping into the shadow of the tree to see him more clearly. As you approached you immediately recognized the silver-haired jonin.

“Kakashi?” You say confused. “What are you doing out here? It’s late.”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He states, closing his book and setting it down next to him on the grass. He looked different. He looked… quite hot actually. The jonin uniform you usually saw him in was traded for a pair of comfortable-looking grey sweatpants and a tight, black tank top that connected to his mask. He wasn’t wearing his headband either, just keeping his left sharingan eye shut in a permanent wink. As you observed him, you couldn’t help but notice that he was doing the same to you.

“I suppose you're right.” You smirk and let out a small chuckle. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured that if I was up I should take a walk around the village to clear my head. This is my favorite spot, so I guess I just naturally ended up here.” You exclaimed, still standing in front of him.

“It looks like you and I are having the same issue,” he states plainly, “I came out here a little while ago after tossing in my bed for an hour. I hate trying to force myself to sleep; It’s a battle I never seem to win.” His eyes averted your gaze and moved to his now empty hands in his lap. You couldn’t help but notice a hint of pain in his voice and it tugged at your heartstrings.

You know about the things Kakashi has been through, as it was pretty common knowledge to all jonin in your mutual age group. You were pretty close with his friends, Gai, Kurenai, and Asuma, but Kakashi always seemed to keep everyone at an arm’s length. He also was an Anbu for ten years, which didn’t help the disconnect either. Fortunately, he was relieved from his Anbu position a couple weeks ago, and gradually you have been seeing him a bit more here and there. Though, this is the first time you are able to have a conversation with him in what seems like forever.

“Well,” you sighed, “I guess we have lost the battle together. We must be pretty shitty jonin.” You stated flatly.

Kakashi squinted his eyes and you both laughed. You couldn’t help but take a mental picture of his face at this moment. You really enjoy seeing him happy, as it makes you happy too.

You can’t kid yourself, having a chance to talk with Kakashi alone feels like such a treat. Little genin (y/n) would be ecstatic right now. Of course you had a crush on him back then, who didn’t?

“You’ve always had a natural talent for connecting with people,” Kakashi mused, “I haven’t talked to you since we were teenagers, and here I am laughing with you like we’re long-time friends.”

You could feel your eyebrows furrow at that statement. Yeah sure, you weren’t at his apartment every week for Sunday brunch, but you did have a history.

“Kakashi,” you started, “You are my long-time friend. Just because we drifted apart doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. To be honest, I was relieved when I found out you were no longer going to be a member of the Anbu. It wasn’t good for you.” You stepped closer and sat down next to him, leaning back on the tree stump. The grass felt cool under you, sending a small shiver up your body.

“I suppose you’re right,” Kakashi stated, quoting your words from earlier. “It amazes me that none of you gave up on me. I feel like I am undeserving of everyone’s effort.” You were baffled by his honesty; Kakashi wasn’t known to be much of an open book. It upsets you so much that he feels this way as you couldn’t imagine not caring about him or any of your other comrades in the village. The faces of your closest friends flashed through your mind and you grimaced at the thought of losing them.

Not knowing if you should, you felt compelled to reach over and hold Kakashi’s hand in yours. It's cold compared to the warmth spreading from your fingertips. Hmm, I wonder how long he has been out here. Giving his hand a small squeeze, you look at him in his onyx eye. “Trust me, Kakashi. You are deserving. You are deserving of a great life and people who care about you. I know the world may seem dark, but I promise that a light is always glowing. No matter how small or dim, it’s there.”

You stare at each other in silence for a moment before he changes the position of his hand and intertwines his fingers in yours. The change was small, but it ignites a feeling in your stomach you couldn’t describe. Slowly, you felt your cheeks flush and you turned your face to look towards the sky in hopes he wouldn’t notice. You knew this action was him telling you that he accepts your words, and thanks you for them.

You spent the next hour sitting under the tree together, you looking up at the stars and him looking at you. Your intertwined hands fell between your bodies, resting on the cool grass. You felt him start to graze the back of your hand with his thumb, sending a tingling sensation up your arm. It felt so good to be touched by him, even in such an innocent manner.

A strong breeze ran through the air and hit you suddenly. You began to shiver at the quick change in temperature, realizing that you should have dressed warmer if you were going to be out this long. Yet, you couldn’t have anticipated the situation you are currently in.

“Are you cold?” Kakashi questioned with a hint of concern.

“Yeah a little bit,” you answered honestly, “but I don’t want to go back home. I’m not really tired yet.” Truthfully, you didn’t want this little moment of shared bliss to end. You started to feel like you found your escape, and you refused to be torn away from it so soon.

“Neither do I,” he confessed, “Come here.” He released his hand from yours and slid his position higher up on the side of the tree. He then spread his legs and patted the ground in between, inviting you to sit.

You felt your face get hot again, as the position he was offering you was a very intimate gesture. There was absolutely no way you could refuse his offer. One, because you were freezing and, two, young (y/n) would never forgive you.

You got up and sat down carefully between his thighs, leaning until your back met his chest. He then wrapped both of his arms around you, one around your shoulders and the other around your waist with his hand resting on your stomach. The outsides of your legs met the insides of his and you felt an immediate warmth there. Lastly, your head tilted back and rested upon his left shoulder, with his face nuzzled against your temple. You both fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, no part of you feeling any discomfort against his strong body. Engulfed in his smell and warmth, for the first time in a while you felt completely relaxed.

“Thank you, Kakashi.” You looked up at him with a warm smile.

“Anytime.” He breathed, voice muffled by your hair. You wondered if he truly meant that. I mean, after all, this is the first time you have interacted in a while. Yet, the connection you felt towards him was unquestionable.

Does he feel the way I feel?

“Hey,” you began, “are you tired at all?”

He flexed his arms and held you closer to his chest. “Not really,” he answered, “I’m enjoying this moment too much to be tired.” You smiled, and there was a pause.

“Isn’t this odd?” you questioned again.

“What? You and I snuggled under a tree in a random corner of the village alone at 4 a.m. after we haven’t interacted with each other in years?” he questioned sarcastically, “Not at all.”

“Kakashi!,” you laughed, gently nudging your elbow into his ribs as he laughed along with you.

“Yeah it’s a little odd,” he answered honestly, “but I’m not going to question it. I found my light, and now I’m enjoying it.” He nuzzled his face into your hair and breathed deeply.

Completely and utterly relaxed, you let yourself succumb to the heaviness of your eyelids. Truthfully, this has felt like the longest day in the world and you are happy to end it this way. The sound of Kakashi’s breathing and the rise and fall of his chest acted as your personal sleep machine. It’s priceless.

Before you completely drift off, you swear you could feel the soft, pillowiness of Kakashi’s lips graze the skin of your temple, a soft hum escaping from them.

“Goodnight, (y/n)”

~~~

Queue Hilary Duff’s “What Dreams Are Made Of”. This kind of feels like the beginning of something. Should I continue? Idk if my writing is even good. If you read this, PLEASE let me know if you have any feedback. Again, this is my first story and I would greatly appreciate any feedback, advice, suggestions, etc.! I can’t believe I’m uploading, ah! - Klara

#kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi fanfic #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi #kakashi fluff #kakashi imagine #naruto fanfiction #kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi one shot #kakashi x yn #kakashi sensei #i found my light

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shroudcore · 3 years ago

Text

Would you look at the time?

Deuce x GN!Reader, set pre-NRC. Written to “We’re Not Just Friends” by Parks, Squares, and Alleys. I recommend giving it a listen after reading this if you want :)

It was seven in the morning. You tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes as the school bus moved past the near-identical houses of your new neighborhood. Your hand reached for the bag pocket holding your earphones, but froze mid-way when you remembered your promise to Mom. Make friends on the first day. Surely, you couldn’t do that by listening to music by yourself in a corner.

He came in—shaggy bleached blond hair, scarred lip, ripped jeans, leather jacket, and a glare directed at no one. Ah, one of those delinquents. Why’d he take the bus today? Bag slung over his shoulder, his green eyes searched the bus for an empty seat, eventually landing on the one beside you.

You could almost hear Mom’s voice warning you about hanging around such people.

The seconds slowed into minutes as he settled into the seat next to you. The next few moments would consist of you trying to get to know him. Gone was the permanent glare for a millisecond until it returned. Still, you took note of that crack in the mask.

Whatever you asked, he answered with one word. After it became clear that you’d be the only one making an effort, you shrugged and put your attention back to the view outside the window. Oh well, at least you tried.

When the bus stopped, you both stood and waited for those in front to file out. You stare at the back of his head, eyes then wandering to his single earring and trailing down to his dusty leather jacket. It was as if he’d rolled around in the dirt.

And once you were out, a loud call for someone named “Spade” pierced your eardrums. The bleached-blond boy turns his head to the direction of the sound. He sprints away towards them: a group of boys sporting the same bleached hair, covered in scars and bruises, clothes dustier than his.

Spade, huh?

That was the first time your paths crossed.

II.

He’s a problem—that’s what Mrs. Rosenthal called Spade.

Because you were the transferee who managed to prove their academic prowess so early on in the school year, you were added immediately to the Mentors Group. In the hopes that he would do better if tutored by someone his age, Deuce Spade was made your mentee.

It amused you, seeing how hard he tried to appear disinterested. Once you’d started discussing the Seven Stages of Alchemical Processes with him, he was hanging onto your every word. His empty notebooks were soon filled by messy scrawls, which made you smile at your success. No student was hopeless; you just needed to find the method they learn best with.

“We’re done for the day,” you told him.

“Already?”

You tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the question. A potential friend? No. He wanted to learn more, not spend more time with you. Stupid. You weren’t the type of person Deuce would want as a friend, were you?

“Yeah, we covered a lot today! It’s time we both take a break,” you reply with a little laugh. As you packed up your notebooks and pens, your stomach growled. Since morning, you’d been craving that new burger on Twilight Diner’s menu. It was right across school.

Suddenly, you get an idea. Before you could think it over further, it spills out, surprising even yourself at the sudden burst of courage.

“Say... d-do you wanna get burgers?”

The answer was immediate, much like the question. “Sure.”

Maybe you shouldn’t sell yourself short. Making friends may just be another challenge you’d triumph over, and your mentee would be a good place to start. It’s okay to take small steps. You had all the time in the world.

III.

Please sit with me. Please sit with me. Your eyes followed Deuce Spade as he entered the cafeteria. You should probably call his name or wave him over, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. What if you call him and he ignores you? Besides, aren’t those his friends over there at Table 14?

Not once did he look your way, as if you didn’t laugh over burgers and fries last Friday. He may not have seen you at all, but it bothered you just the same.

Table 14 calls him over. He nods in their direction and starts making his way to their table.

You weren’t friends, just acquaintances. Who were you to expect? Of course he’d sit with his friends, not his tutor!

Table 8 was empty except for you. It would’ve been nice to have someone. You try to picture Deuce sitting across you like he did in the diner, smiling at a joke you tried to crack. Making an expression of disgust as he picked bell peppers off his pizza slice.

But he sits there at Table 14, where the boys huddle and erupt in laughter every minute.

Remembering your promise to your mother, your shoulders slump. You haven’t made any friends at all. People only stopped by to talk when they needed you, and you did the same.

You stabbed your fork into your chicken breast. It’s fine, you tell yourself over and over. It’s not like you were disappointed. You’ll survive. Biting into the dry meat, you prepare to force it down your throat. You throw a glance at Table 14.

Maybe next time.

IV.

He just started...crying. You sat there awkwardly, open notebook forgotten in your hand. This tutoring session sure was different from the rest. No matter how many times you proposed a break, Deuce would tell you to go on ahead while he stayed.

Do something! You desperately racked your brains for things to say, running through the regulars: Do you wanna talk about it? It’s going to be okay. What’s wrong? I’m so sorry that happened. I’m here for you.

“H-hey... Spade? D-deuce?” His first name was new to your mouth.

Who did he have right now except for you? Of course you had to make an effort.

You sighed. “Cry it all out.”

That was always the best solution before anything else. You must first let it all out. Release your emotions into the aether until you’re empty. Then, you can start feeling again.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll forget this ever happened,” you whispered. “as long as you cry it all out ‘til you can’t anymore.”

He had a reputation. It must be painful to uphold such a reputation.

“I don’t want to make her cry anymore,” he told you. You don’t ask any more questions, but you hum and nod to show that you understood. He told you how he regrets causing her so much pain. He said he wanted to work on himself and change for the better. He wanted her to glow with pride instead.

You told him he could work his way there. It wasn’t going to be easy, no. But the important first step is setting a goal. Knowing what you want.

“It’s good that you let it out. Anyway, wanna get oyakodon with me? My treat.”

You’d do it for anyone in despair, wouldn’t you? You’d give anyone your time.

Closing time was about fifteen minutes away, and you sat on the floor thinking, “Not yet, please.” A big, old, musty history book big enough to kill a man was open on your lap. Someone had doodled on a portrait on page 59 only to be found by you and Deuce. You shushed a chuckling Deuce as you looked around for the librarian.

The gallant fae soldier on the yellowing page now sported a mustache, monocle, and buck-teeth. It was a silly, silly thing, but your tiredness and the fact that you were with Deuce made you laugh along. For the past hour, you’d been taking every single opportunity to look at him. You hoped it wasn’t obvious.

Deuce always looks good when he smiles, you thought. Also when he’s focused, when he’s confused, when he’s smug, when he’s...

He turned to meet your eyes, making your stomach plummet at the realization that you’d been caught.

“I-is there something wrong?”

“Ah, no. It’s nothing,” you say too quickly for it to be natural. You immediately cast your gaze down to the doodled-on photograph.

As you stared into the poor old fae soldier’s eyes, you thought of something to say, anything that might interest Deuce. You knew it was counterproductive, since you both were here to study—not have chit-chat.

But you wanted to talk to him more. See him smile and hear him laugh. Watch the way his handsome face animatedly changed expressions as he listened to you. Oh, if only you could stop time.

VI.

One foot forward into the classroom, you heard someone calling your name. Deuce was running to you, a wide smile on his face. He waved a paper around in the air. Is that his test paper?

The sight made you smile. Waving back, you closed the classroom door and waited for him to get to you.

Finally, while panting, he brandished his Pre-Alchemy test paper, and the red ‘B’ written on the score box. “I did it!”

You took the paper from him and scan the test. He explained the Seven Stages of Alchemical Processes well, borrowing some of your own wording. The problem-solving part boasted perfect points, his solutions showing you the process you taught him step-by-step.

You looked back at him, overflowing with pride and... something else you couldn’t quite name. “I’m so, so proud of you, Deuce!”

He scratches the back of his neck and looks away. “I couldn’t have done it without you, you know.”

You knew what this improvement meant. You would be given a new mentee. A new face to spend your after-schools with. Though it was a bit sad, you were very proud of how far Deuce had come.

Even so, you couldn’t help but overthink. Would your friendship continue even after you’re no longer mentor and mentee? Or was your time with him running out?

VII.

Wasn’t it so silly to think that he would suddenly write himself out of your life? Even though Deuce was no longer your mentee, he stayed.

He always walks with you on the way home. He gets burgers (egg sandwiches in his case) with you at the diner across school. On some days, you’d go for oyakodon. He offers to carry your bags as the romantics watch in envy. He listens to you complain about the dry meat as he sits across you at Table 8.

Rumors were spun around the two of you, but you couldn’t care less. People will always talk, after all.

Sometimes, you still couldn’t believe this turn of events. Who would have thought that the delinquent boy you encountered on the bus on your first day would now be your closest friend?

You were no longer alone. He was with you—all the time.

VIII.

You should never have attended that school party.

Deuce thought it would be a good idea, so you agreed. After all, aren’t parties one of the best events to meet new people?

A bunch of fifteen-year-olds couldn’t have a party without a Truth or Dare game. You wanted to stay out of it, but you and Deuce were dragged into the circle. He wanted to be part of the fun, you thought. Not wanting Deuce to think you were a killjoy, you grit your teeth and opted to participate.

After the first victim chose Dare and was forced to drink a horrid mixture of condiments, you planned to pick Truth.

Misfortune targeted you that day. The second victim to be selected by the bottle was you. Instead of shouts and whistles, you were met with silence. You understood; you never put yourself out there after all. No one except Deuce really knew how to act with you.

“Truth.” It was fine, you thought. They’d never know if you were lying.

Little did you know, that the question they would ask would ruin everything.

“Who do you have a crush on?”

The answer was clear in your head. The answer was sitting just across you, peacock green eyes watching you intently.

So you lied. You gave them a different name. The guy whose name you uttered stared at you in shock. Better him thinking you liked him than Deuce finding out the truth and rejecting you, right?

It was painful, but you had to take a look at Deuce. He was no longer watching you. The rest of the game went on like a blur, but you felt like you screwed up. You did something wrong. The feeling wouldn’t let you be until the game ended.

Deuce told you that he’s leaving the party. You asked why. There was no response. His eyes were glaring at the floor, similar to the way he glared when you first saw him on the bus.

You let him go off on his own and ask no further questions. He needs time.

IX.

Deuce’s natural navy roots were starting to show. You tried picturing him with an all-navy head of hair as you stared at the back of his head in the dark classroom.

You haven’t talked for almost a week ever since that school party.

Could he feel your gaze on him? Your eyes wandered to the empty seat beside him, which you would have taken if everything were fine. How can things become fine if no one makes a move?

That was why you decide to swallow your pride and walk to the seat right beside him. I’ll fix this today. You can’t lose him. And over something you weren’t entirely sure about too!

At the sound of you clearing your throat, he looked over to you. Stormy green eyes concealed a sea of emotions. Wordlessly, you took the empty seat. You wanted to tell him, “I’m sorry, it was you.” But how do you know if that’s what he was really mad about? You couldn't just assume, could you? You’ll only make a fool out of yourself.

But deep down... you knew, didn’t you?

In the end, you couldn’t say anything. Getting up again and leaving would just be embarrassing. He turned his attention back to the projection on the whiteboard. Thick tension hung over the two of you as you sat in silence, making the remaining twenty minutes feel like sixty.

This was not the right time.

One week turned into a month. You see Deuce with a new crowd now. You were alone again. You wonder how he’s doing when you eat at the Twilight Diner by yourself. You pick the bell pepper slices off your pizza as some sort of tribute to him.

When your mom told you that her radio broke, you thought of asking Deuce if he could fix it, then remembered your very complicated, awkward status. Your mom asked if you were okay.

At night, you write about him. Vignettes—to relive memories you made together. Poems—an outlet for your miserable longing. One night, you get the idea to write him a letter... or maybe a poem? You’d apologize for this rift you didn’t try to fix, and then you’d tell him everything.

I’ll give it to him on graduation, you told yourself. You’ll tell him how you felt—you just needed more time.

XI.

The poem was still in your pocket. After everybody tossed their graduation caps up, you crane your head around to spot him in the venue. You find him with his new friend group.

Whispers say he’d gotten into Night Raven College. You were so unbelievably proud of him. You wanted to tell him that as soon as you two start talking again. That will be soon.

“Dear, your dad’s waiting in the car!” your mother said for the fourth time. You, however, kept telling her to wait for you. You told her there was something you absolutely needed to do first.

“I’ll be quick, promise!” Eyes on Deuce, you sprint to where he was standing, muttering soft “Excuse me’s” to people you would bump into along the way. Your heart thumped in anticipation of seeing him again. Talking to him again.

You take the poem out of your pocket. Just as you were about to shout his name, he and his friends began to walk away. A girl, part of the friend group, clung to his arm, talking animatedly about Seven-knows-what. You could see the way Deuce’s ears turned pink as his other friends whistled.

That was when your fist closed around the special scented paper you wrote the poem on. Watching them go, you tossed your feelings away into a nearby bin. You didn’t see him turn around and watch you run away.

When you returned, Mom and Dad were concerned. Occasionally, one of them would throw you a worried glance from the rear-view mirror. You hid your tears as you sat back in your seat. You accepted that it would be the last time you saw him.

XII.

Deuce Spade never left your thoughts. Though he no longer took center stage, pieces of him lingered behind—ghosts of happier times and split-second visions of what could’ve been.

Ten months later, you found yourself standing in a crowd, watching him perform a song alongside Vil Schoenheit. Deuce didn’t know that you’d be coming to the VDC. After hearing from a former schoolmate that Deuce would be participating, you decided to make a surprise visit.

The words you had for him could no longer go on unsaid. You thought of rewriting the poem you threw away on Graduation Day, but soon realized that there was no need. You could tell him everything yourself, face-to-face.

After casting your vote for NRC, you went to search for Deuce. Déjà vu gripped you as your heartbeat thumped against your ribs, much like it did on Graduation Day. You hoped for a better outcome this time around.

You find him in the crowd—full head of dark blue hair and neatly pressed uniform. He’s really changed, and you looked forward to meeting this new Deuce Spade.

Moving on wasn’t an easy process, but you survived it. There was no more contempt in your heart. All you needed now was the closure which time apart prepared you for.

He sees you approach. Recognition turns into surprise, finally melting into a gentle and knowing smile as he waves at you. His companions turn around to look.

Even with several pairs of eyes watching you, your chest feels lighter. If I’ve moved on, then so has he.

After all, ten months was enough time.

Partly based off a true story aha um...

Thank you for reading. I wasn’t sure about posting this at all. Hope you enjoy, anyway.

#twst x reader #deuce x reader #deuce spade x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fic

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sombreboy · 4 years ago

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Tease me⇢kth x jjk

⇢18+ ⇢pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook ⇢genre: Smut, fluff, mxm ⇢word count: 5.4k ⇢warnings: profanity, tae sends jk pics of his cock smh, they skip class to fuck don’t do that educate urself my lovely peeps, dom!kth, sub!jjk, blowjob, fingering, anal, sex in public place, this is fiction pls use lubey lube

A/N: Serves as a oneshot within the Love Maze series AU, however can also be read on it’s own. Co-written with my lovely @velvetwicebang <3

Either the clock had been stuck on the same time for over a trillion hours, or Taehyung’s brain was having a blast poking at the boy’s established impatience.

It felt as if he’d been sitting through Mrs. Choi’s lesson for way too long now; his ass had certainly left a permanent imprint on the hard-as-shit chair. The discomfort only irked Taehyung even more, and the latter couldn’t be bothered to mask his see-through disinterest, facial expression resistant— Who the fuck needs calculus, anyways? Calculators exist.

The boy’s leg bounced from underneath the desk, wanting nothing more than to yell out ‘Fuck math!’ and storm out of there. But of course, he couldn’t do that. Not if he wanted to prove Jungkook wrong. The younger was smart as hell, and Taehyung knew how seriously he took his studies. Naturally, being in a relationship with someone so academically-driven also meant Tae couldn’t fall behind. And he was trying to prove to Jungkook that he was capable of getting good grades, when he actually tried..

The elder let out a soft sigh, gaze flickering to the front of the class, acting carefully before he pulled out his phone from the front pocket of his pants.

To: JK Hey

Taehyung waited a minute, no response.

To: JK I’m boreed

Jungkook always took forever to reply.

To: JK i know you’re seeing these smh, won’t even reply to your boyfriend

Suddenly, Tae got an idea. The elder flicked through his camera roll, lips slowly curling outwards into a cheeky grin before he attached a very personal picture..

To: JK meant to send this to you the other day I was soo fucking hard, can you see?? you like the view?

It was an image of his cock, the tip pink and swollen, veins running alongside the smooth edges.

If this didn’t get Jungkook’s attention, Taehyung would be surprised.

Jungkook feels the incoming texts in the form of a series of vibrations against his leg, and normally he would ignore it completely... but he knows it's his boyfriend, so it was getting incredibly difficult to ignore. His lecture was boring anyway, the teacher blabbering about a topic he already excelled in, so he didn't feel as bad about sneaking his phone out underneath the desk…

Kook's breath hitched when he swiped the conversation open, only to be greeted by Taehyung's fat cock staring right back at him, so hard and--- it had the younger's thighs pressing together just thinking about the way it felt in his mouth. Heavy, smooth... fuck.

He glanced around, thankful he didn't have anybody sitting close to him for once. Tapping in his reply, his cheeks are hot, his lower lip caught by his bunny like upper teeth.

To: Tae I'm in class babe...

Jungkook sighed when he took another look at the picture, suddenly class was the last thing he cared about.

To: Tae ... I really love the view... I can't focus now

At first glance, Taehyung was a bit surprised Jungkook actually rolled along with it, but oh was he pleased.. He hadn’t intended for the conversation to turn sexual... not from the beginning, at least. The elder played his cards right, an unexpected dick-pic granted him his boyfriend’s undivided attention. Taehyung loved being the only one running through Jungkook’s mind..

To: JK oh yeah? thinking hard about my cock now? ooo naughtyyy

He also fuckin’ loved to tease the hell out of Koo.

To: JK i get really hard just thinking about you you and your cute ass

The elder comfortably leaned back in his chair, typing with one hand whilst the other lingered close to his crotch, itching to slip it past the band of his trousers..

To: JK that ass is tight as fuck too didn’t even need to jerk off to porn, i got off to the picture of you on my phone came so much, fuuck

Jungkook had to bite down on his lip to prevent himself from embarrassing himself, the natural urge to whine because of what Tae tells him through text was astonishing. The power this man had over the younger... one sentence and Kook is already uncomfortably adjusting his length that is resting against his thigh.

To: Tae Tae, seriously! you can't say things like this... I almost moaned out loud I can't focus!!!!

Jungkook stared at the picture for the umpteenth time, bit swollen lips parting lightly to exhale a longing sigh. His gaze flickered between the lecture and his phone again as he kept typing.

To: Tae fuck... and I'm getting hard. Want you in my mouth.

Kook blushed a bit as he sent the last two messages. However, two could play a game of tease during class... Tae might just be better at it. But that doesnt mean Kook won't at least try.. maybe he has a higher effect than he thinks.

Either way, Taehyung was a master of seduction, whether it be a quick fuck, or a sensual evening in bed--- it's undeniable that his sex appeal is off the roof. Hence why Jungkook is sitting in fucking class with his cock pulsating underneath the table. Shit.

The elder’s lean fingers curled inwards into a tightly-knotted fist, blunt nails sunk deep into the clammy flesh of his palm. All the while, Taehyung’s beast of a boner prodded at the fabric of his pants, the striking outline a cherry in a basket of strawberries. Anyone with a working eye could see Taehyung was worked up about something..

To: JK such a tease, baby so sudden? bet you were thinking about me fucking the shit out of your pretty mouth for a long time i know you like it real rough

The light film of sweat collected on his hand seeped onto the fabric of Taehyung’s jeans whilst he slowly smoothed his palm over his erection, the corner of his lip twitching in aggravation. He wanted to stuff Jungkook’s stretchable mouth full through the screen, fuck it hard until his dick turned limp.

To: JK naughty boy, you probably touched yourself to the thought of my fat cock before we were even together

He angled the phone down, pressing record before rubbing at his clothed cock, thumb swirling around the bulging head.

“Fuck..” Taehyung grunted softly, flipping the camera around to selfie-mode so Jungkook would have a different perspective. He kept it low, pretending the camera’s lens was Kook’s doe eyes, picturing his boyfriend on his knees— Taehyung staring down at him.

Even from such an angle, Tae managed to look intimidating. His raven fringe running past his hooded eyes, jaw clenching as he held in his moans, cheekbones prominent.. He had it all.

He tapped on the red dot once more, attaching the newly-made video before pressing send.

To: JK this the cock you’re thirsting for?? see how hard it is? it’s even harder when i fuck it real deep in you

Jungkook hovered over the video, swallowing tightly before pressed play. It was a dangerous game that his boyfriend played, and Kook knows he already lost. Taehyung's fat cock, his piercing gaze, even through a fucking phone screen had the younger mans insides clenching around nothing, his mouth salivating. He couldn't even hold back the quiet groan that rumbled in his chest, passing it off as an awkward cough to avoid attention.

To: Tae Yeah.. love when you're rough..

Koo blushes, ignoring the obvious statement of him touching himself to the thought of Tae prior to their relationship...

Although Jungkook knows he's already a puddle for the elder, he knows Tae does have a thing for the digital aspect of things... whether it be porn, nudes, or videos. Even when sending a simple recording of his cock, he made it look great... he was a natural with the lens.

Kook angled his own phone camera to snap a picture, squeezing his thick length through his sweatpants to show the prominent outline. Then he snaps a second one, very quickly of his bit swollen lips, sending both in one go.

To: Tae I want it so bad... See how hard you made me too... I keep biting my lip or I'll whine out loud... you asshole

Koo smiles through the haze of lust, the endearing cursing between them still something they both just do-- and love.

A small, barely-noticeable smile pulled at the corners of Taehyung’s wet lips.

To: JK shut up... asshole you’re liking this

Then it was back to internally groaning over the pictures Jungkook had sent, lust-crazed pupils dilating at the mere image of those swollen lips wrapped snug around the velvety skin of his cock.

To: JK excuse yourself and meet me in the same spot don’t take forever

It was the last nudge; Taehyung had to act on his urges before he went crazy.

He excused himself from the lesson, lying saying he had to go to the restroom. Taehyung did need to get something out of his system, but it wasn’t what everyone else thought.

Jungkook licked his lips at the commanding invitation, swiftly putting his phone back into his pocket as he excused himself, also lying about his whereabouts. Luckily, he was easily let off without much questioning, being one of the teacher's favorites. Piece. of. cake.

He shoved his books into his backpack before hurrying towards their secret spot, internally competing whether he would possibly make it there before Taehyung this time-- just to rub it off in his face.

As Jungkook made it there, he looked around, not yet seeing the male... He glanced down at his phone, a small smile tugging on his lips. Did he make it first?

Turns out whenever Taehyung was horny, the boy could run a marathon. If there was something worth claiming at the finish line, Tae was there. This time, the prize just so happened to be his lovely boyfriend.. It was no surprise when he’d gotten there first, too impatient to miss a longing beat to his steps. But, being the cheeky bastard Taehyung was best known for, he hid from Jungkook.

When he made out the younger male’s figure, that was when he tip-toed out of hiding, pressing his chest to Kook’s back as his arms circled around his torso.

“Hey—“ Taehyung laughed at Jungkook’s startled jump, angling his neck to press a chaste kiss to the younger’s cheek.

“Relax, it’s me. Slow ass..” The elder joked, swiftly turning Koo around on his feet by a quick twist of the younger’s waist.

"Ah! Tae... shit, I've told you not to scare me like that..." Jungkook's annoyance quickly morphed into a grin, unable to stay mad as he twirled to face his boyfriend. His hands immediately find the elders soft, dark curls, itching to run his fingers through them.

"I wasn't slow, you must be sonic or some shit...." he chuckles, drawing Tae in for a kiss, unable to hold his bit swollen lips away for a second longer.

Taehyung acceptingly immersed himself in the warm, summery feeling of Jungkook’s lips, dipping his toe in the latter-infected waters.

He breathed in Jungkook; he felt Jungkook’s presence all around. Every curve and dip of the younger’s body was a place Taehyung knew all too well.

He squeezed at Kook’s delicate waist. Taehyung’s lost count of how many times his needy hands would hold onto the flesh. It was the most familiar spot..

“Don’t think I forgot all about the, ‘want you in my mouth’ shit you pulled..” The elder practically muttered, tracing daring kisses along Jungkook’s jawline, down his neck, on his collarbones..

Anywhere that would allow the sudden intrusion.

“That got me so hard. You knew it’d faze me, huh?” Taehyung gently drove Jungkook’s back against the concrete wall, shuffling a leg between the younger’s, sensually rubbing at his boyfriend’s awakened crotch.

“You knew it’d make me wanna push you down to your knees and fuck your throat swollen, didn’t you?”

"Y-yeah-- fuck..." Jungkook immediately feels like he melts into the wall behind him, the cool surface juxtaposing the fire in his body. His cheeks are flushed red, snapping his chin to the side as he blushes, whining quietly when Taes knee massages his length. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he was brought to a full hard on, but then again; Kook being absolutely whipped for Tae is no news.

“Baby likes it rough, tsk. You know which buttons to push, alright..”

Taehyung tilted his head and aimed for the side of Jungkook’s neck, where he sucked greedily on the discolored patch whilst his hands snaked past the loose band of Kook’s sweatpants.

Fondling and jiggling a handful of Jungkook’s bare ass in his bigger hands, Tae purposely pressed their bodies closer together, leaving little room to the imagination.

He groped and squeezed at the plump skin, pulling Jungkook’s lower body away from the wall, grunting against his boyfriend’s neck as he left dark hickeys to linger on for days.

“So fucking gorgeous, my pretty boy..”

Taehyung pulled away, seemingly pleased with his colorful creations.

“Now, get down on your knees, pretty.”

Jungkook didn't need to be told twice, abruptly dropping down on his knees in front of Taehyung, his strong hands smoothing down his torso to his thighs on the way down. His doe eyes stare back up at the elder with a mix of submission, admiration, and greed, licking his lightly chapped lips.

"You think I'm pretty?" Kook tilts his head like a curious puppy, his coyly cocked eyebrow morphing with his small smile that couldn't be helped. He always felt a bit giddy whenever Tae praised him in various ways.

He keeps his hands on Tae's thighs, slowly inching back to tug at the zipper, greedy to see and feel the weight of his boyfriend's cock on his tongue.

"Fuck my mouth, I'll look even prettier.." He whispers out his words, a bit flustered to utter them.

“Shit, I don’t doubt it for a fucking second..” Taehyung felt strapping as he confidently towered over Jungkook, one hand pressed against the wall whilst the other glided through Kook’s silky hair, caressing the younger’s scalp with gentle fingers.

“Always hungry for my big cock, who would’ve thought the prettiest boys would be so dirty..”

His thumb faintly brushed over Jungkook’s cheekbone, studying the latter’s submissive pose before him. Taehyung cockily widened his stance, feet shoulder-width apart and hips slightly jutted out.

He waited until Jungkook undid his zipper before taking control, tugging on his briefs just enough for his needy cock to pop out, his warm balls laying still against the waistband.

“You wanna suck my dick? Wanna know what your ass gets a taste of every time I fuck you?” The elder harshly bit down on his lower lip, “Stick your tongue out.”

Knowing he wouldn’t have to wait long, a faint smirk took over Taehyung’s features at Jungkook’s eagerness.

“Even your tongue is gorgeous, fuck.”

With one hand around the base, Tae rubbed the head of his cock along the wet muscle, gripping onto a handful of Jungkook’s hair whilst he stared down at his boyfriend, internally praising him for being so good..

“Hmm..” He gently slapped the thick girth on Kook’s tongue; soft, wet splatter sounds taking over their senses.

Jungkook hummed in delight when he could taste droplets of Tae's precum with every gentle thud against his tongue. He inched even closer, opening his mouth wider as he stuck out his wet, flattened tongue further, as if begging for more already.

Kook is a shy boy, but when it came to Taehyung; he was a selfish, greedy man.

However, he knew not to get too greedy, unless he wanted to annoy his boyfriend. It was usually a one way ticket to limp town. Sometimes he wanted it, sometimes he didn't.

Today was one of those days where he wanted it rough.

So, the younger didn't wait for instructions, neither did he say a word before he ignored the tug in his hair as he leaned forward, taking Taehyung's cock into his mouth. It was worth it, the smooth skin and tangy mix of salt and sweet coated his tongue wonderfully. His vibrating moan reached his throat, sure that Tae could feel it around his cock.

Kook's mischievous, doe eyes stared back up at him, his plushy lips stretched and reddened as they worked hard to accommodate Taehyung's girth.

“Wait, what are you doi— shit..” Taehyung’s heavy-lidded eyes abruptly enlarged; his initial shock vividly magnified on his features in the form of arched brows. He watched as his boyfriend’s plushy lips enclosed around his hardened length, spouting a thick blanket of warmth throughout Tae’s body, overpowering his cold demeanor. That’s all Taehyung did— stare.

No one had ever disobeyed him, they waited for him to take control of the situation. Until now..

And if Taehyung wasn’t so fond of the power it granted him; he would’ve been less irritated at Jungkook and his sudden boldness.

The assertive grip on the younger’s hair returned as Taehyung harshly yanked him away from his cock, jaw muscles clenched and gaze intimidating.

Who did Jungkook think he was? The younger was stripped of his control every time they fucked; Taehyung liked it that way. To say this was a surprise was an understatement..

“What have I told you about doing shit without my permission, Jungkook?”

However, no matter how much Tae tried to force himself to dislike it, he couldn’t. His boyfriend’s eagerness was endearing.

“Impatient boy..”

Digging his fingers deeper into Kook’s mess of a hair, Taehyung forced the younger back in once again. This time, it was on his terms.

He controlled the pace in which Jungkook’s head bobbed, rhythmic hips thrusting slowly to meet each plunge.

“Hmm.. fuck yeah.” The wetness lathering around him from inside Kook’s mouth tipped Taehyung’s head back, grunting softly as his eyes squinted shut, black curls sticking to the light layer of sweat exuding from his creased forehead.

At that moment, he didn’t have a care in the goddamn world.

Taehyung towered further over Kook, extending out his free hand against the wall in front of him and fixing his grasp on Jungkook’s hair. The elder held his boyfriend’s head in place as he thrusted into him, hips eager and swift as he began fucking his mouth.

“Like that? Shame you can’t answer with a cock in your mouth..”

The sparkle of mischief in Jungkook's eyes never subsided, saying more than enough at the fact that this is exactly what he wished for. To spur on Taehyung's dominance, hearing, seeing and feeling the elder manhandle him and mock him-- fuck, the younger's cock was leaking underneath his pants.

"Mmm....mmhhh.." Jungkook hummed with joy, gaze glassy with tears from the burning stretch in his throat. It was bittersweet, but he was ever the masochist for Tae's big dick. He stared up at the various expressions of pleasure and coy mockery playing on Taehyung's face, only able to look up for so long before tears began to trickle down his cheeks, mixing in with the drool seeping out his mouth with every rough thrust, Tae's cock taking up the space in his throat.

Jungkook relaxed in the elder's hold, using his flattened tongue in his mouth to allow the slick length to glide effortlessly. He breathed heavily through his nose, however only able to do so every few drags when the head of Tae's swollen cock wasn't blocking the airway as it was lodged back in his throat with every snap of his hips.

Kook's grasp tightened on Taehyung's pants by his thighs, seeking some kind of leverage, muffled whines and hums stuck in his chest to be killed by the loud sound of wet squelches.

The piteous, gagged response of a hum fed into Taehyung’s inner sadist as he was physically driven to ram deeper into Jungkook’s mouth. He wasn’t worried— well, too worried. Of course Tae was precautious; he didn’t want to hurt his boyfriend. But he knew Jungkook could handle his hefty cock. After all, they’ve had plenty of practice during their time together..

They rarely spent a day without any action; Kook’s body was a magnet for Taehyung’s longing hands to obsess over.

“Sweet boy, takin’ all of my cock like a champ..” Tae hissed, entranced by the way he’d continuously bulge against Jungkook’s hickey-stained throat, feeling the sensitive tip roughly prod at the inflamed flesh.

“Hngh.. so warm, baby. Almost as warm as your tight ass.” His panting grew thicker, losing the momentum he once started with, “Look at you, so fuckable. Hmph.. just wanna stretch the shit out of you, leave you open wide and shaking.” Taehyung yanked harder on Jungkook’s hair, knuckles lacking their natural color.

“I’d cum so much inside, fuck, you’d be so full.”

With one last powerful, forced slam, Tae stopped the movement of his hips before he would break loose. All that talk made him realize how much he missed being inside of his boyfriend, even if he’d just fucked him a couple days ago..

“Pretty..” The pad of this thumb brushed under Jungkook’s eyes, wiping away the fresh tears that’d resurfaced. Taehyung slowly pulled his cock out, gaze softened as he stared down at Jungkook’s smaller position.

“Stand up and kiss me, baby. Wanna taste myself on your lips.”

Pebbles roll on the ground from the quick momentum of just how eagerly Jungkook got back up on his feet, arms clinging around Taehyung's neck to bring him in for a needy kiss. The younger's plush lips moved naturally against his boyfriend's, his familiar mouth bringing nothing but comfort and an immense need to taste more, and more.

"Ah..." Kook was gentle however, allowing Taehyung to be in control of the intensity, but the needy whines coming from the younger showed just how badly he wanted every single little thing the elder would offer.

"Taee...." Jungkook timidly moans against his lips, his erection pressing up against him like a needy boy. "You taste so good.. Can you taste it?"

“I do, baby, tastes good..” Taehyung leaned in for more, pushing his tongue past the small, hitched opening in between Jungkook’s puffy lips to ease the areas in which his cock took proper advantage of. The kiss was sloppy, yet precise as Tae carefully moved his lips against Kook’s smaller ones, pleased vibrations emitting from his chest.

Not bearing the emptiness in his palms, his hands resumed groping Jungkook’s ass.

“I’m gonna fuck you, Koo. Gonna make it quick, alright?” Tae pressed a soft kiss to Jungkook’s nose before tugging at the younger’s sweatpants and briefs in one go, too impatient to go about it any other way.

“So aroused ‘n pretty..” Taehyung’s breath hitched at the sight of Kook’s hard cock, head oozing with droplets of precum. “Just like you.”

He carefully drove them back against the wall, this time pushing Jungkook’s chest against the concrete and tugging gently at the younger’s hip, making his ass stick out.

His boyfriend didn’t need any prep, they’ve fucked enough times in the course of a week alone. But it didn’t hurt to tease Kook a bit— Taehyung never turned that down.

“Gonna stick my finger in, breathe.” Tae didn’t lie, his middle finger slowly pushed past the bundle of nerves trying to force him out, but he didn’t budge. His forehead was rested against Jungkook’s nape, lips slightly agape as he looked down at what he was doing. The elder’s other hand spread one of Koo’s cheeks, giving him a wider view.

“Shit, you cool? Found that sweet spot you always like..” The pad of Tae’s finger quickly rubbed at the side of Jungkook’s prostate.

“You love it when I tease it, admit it.”

Jungkook muttered breathy curses, placing his elbows against the concrete for leverage. His soft cheek pressed to the wall, flushed in the initial embarrassment of being this exposed-- in this place... Tae always managed to make him feel small and pretty-- and the praise only built on to his reddened cheeks... and throbbing cock.

"Ah..." His low curses quickly morphed into higher pitched moans the second his boyfriend's long, slender finger touched the one sweet spot that only he could reach. "Fuck, yeah.... I love it-- please, more."

Taehyung always knew how to please him, just with one finger he had reduced Kook to nothing but a slut for him. Every single time they fucked, the one word Jungkook would chant like a prayer was just that. More.

"D-don't tease me too much... I'll go crazy, please, stretch me more." Jungkook's pathetic voice was shaky, rutting his ass back against Taehyung's finger, his thigh muscles tensing and relaxing every single time his sensitive flesh was prodded.

Taehyung reached in deeper, the stretchable skin of Jungkook’s wet rim now surpassing his knuckle, clenching tight around the elder’s long digit as he massaged Koo’s warm insides. The elder’s cock throbbed against Jungkook’s soft cheek, jealous it wasn’t receiving any special attention— for now. Tae wasn’t planning on leaving it forgotten for long..

“I’ll stretch you out good, just be patient..” Tae left soft kisses along Jungkook’s shoulders and flexed shoulder blades, twisting his head slightly to continue against the crook of the younger’s neck, the silent sounds of his sweet kisses only audible to the both of them.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, you know that?” The warmth of Taehyung’s breath clung on to Jungkook’s ear whilst he praised, lingering close until Tae’s face was no longer near; no longer trapping in the heat of his soft words.

“I’m gonna put it in, I know you’re dying to feel a hard cock in you. My hard cock..” Taehyung swiftly dragged out his finger, taking a hold of his dick and lining it up against Jungkook’s entrance, rubbing the tip against his puckered rim before gently advancing his hips forward, harshly biting on his lips as he did so.

“Hngh.. warm. Tight as fuckin’ always, fuck.”

Jungkook's drawn out moan sounded more like a whiny cry, muffled by his hand as to not want to draw any attention-- but it was hard. However, something about possibly being caught had the younger's entire being tingling with excitement. Maybe he was a little bit of an exhibitionist after all...

"Mmph... Tae, god... big.." Kook struggled to put together any sort of coherent sentence, muffling out words into his hand in between breathy cries. His fleshy insides constricted around his boyfriend's thick girth harder the deeper it drilled into him, taking shallow breaths to relax. His thighs shake with anticipation, he couldn't bear to be patient...

Jungkook arched his back further, hungry for more of Taehyung to enter him, glancing over his shoulder to see his expressions. If there was one thing Jungkook loved just as much as hearing how good he felt, it was seeing it as well.

The elder granted Jungkook just that— thick eyebrows knit together as he fully bottomed out, cock snug and protected in between Kook’s gripping insides, the unpredicted squeezes prompting the latter to grit his teeth until his jaw turned sore.

Taehyung engaged in promising eye contact, his bedroom eyes gazing deep into Jungkook’s wavering ones. Tae’s back remained slightly hunched as his blue-veined hands held onto the other’s hips, fingers digging into the sweaty crease connecting the younger’s hip bone and his leg.

“Damn, been waiting to fuck this ass for a hot minute..” He added movement to his stance, keeping it slow and collected at the beginning for the sake of their enjoyment.

“My ass. I own this shit now, fuck..” The hitting of his pelvis against Jungkook became more noticeable, the smacking of their skin every time they met almost as distinct as Koo’s soft whines.

“Only mine to fuck raw and stretch.” Taehyung’s thrusting grew more aggressive, forceful snaps turning quicker and harder..

“I’m the only guy that gets to bust in this little ass, fuckin’ better stay that way..”

The mere thought of another dude fucking Jungkook led Taehyung to grunt in displease, panting softly as he no longer worried about holding back, entering Kook’s ass again and again until he could no longer keep count.

Jungkook's doe eyes rolled back in pleasure, fluttering shut before he dipped his head low, his long curls falling forward as he faced down. Every snap of Taehyung's hips drew a louder moan out of him, every inhale a hitched breath, every exhale a whiny moan.

"Only y-yours, Tae--fuck, want you, just you-- gah..." It was hard to speak when his body was jolting forward roughly with every thrust, his strong arms flexing to keep his head from thudding into the concrete wall from the brute force his boyfriend fucked him with.

"Don't want anybody else to fuck me, your cock-- ah, your cock is the fuckin' best... Want you foreve-eer, shit..." His moans were bordering on sobs at this point, the mixture of pleasure, slight pain, and his love for the elder made the entire experience euphoric; and Jungkook was addicted to it. They've done this countless times, and instead of growing bored of it, the younger wanted more, more, more.

"Wanna cum, babe, please-- can I touch myself?" Kook's eyes open, staring down at his bobbing, swollen cock, the reddened tip drooling with precum, aching for any touch. "Tell me I can, please."

“We’ll do it together,” letting go of one of Jungkook’s slightly-bruised hips, Taehyung reached for the younger’s hand that rested on the dirtied wall, leading it downwards to where Kook’s firm, pretty cock sprung with the sustained pace of his thrusts. Taehyung forced Jungkook’s fingers to close in tight around his own shaft, the elder’s bigger hand applying extra pressure as he jerked them in sync up and down, up and down..

The leaking precum sitting atop Kook’s tip helped alleviate the glide, movements swift and aggressive. Taehyung was the one in charge, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum..” He wrapped his arm around Jungkook’s delicate waist, pulling him in until his gasping chest molded against the small dip of Koo’s slick back.

“Cum with me, baby.” Taehyung’s jerk of his sore hand never faltered, and neither did each shove into Jungkook’s insides. He was much too excited to get them both over the edge, the upcoming release a certain high he could never get tired of.

Jungkook's loud, shameless sounds were a mixture of sobs and moans from the overwhelming sensations, his slick cock aggressively working towards his release along with his boyfriend's cock forcibly prodding at his sensitive prostate over and over. Kook's was fuckin' done for, he couldn't even attempt to hold back his orgasm if he tried.

"S-shit, fuck, fuuck--!" Nothing but curses rolled off his swollen tongue, words a foreign concept pushed to the back of his mind when all he could think about was Taehyung's fat cock entering him again, and again until every musce in his body tensed up, his cock stiffening in the grasp of both men before it began to pulsate in a rhytmical pattern, spurts of cum gushing out against the concrete wall.

"God-- cumming, ah, o-ouch..." Kook's high pitched whines in pleasure distorted into oversensitivity quickly, pressing his forehead against the dirty wall, gnashing his teeth together. "D-don't stop, please, cum in me-- T-taehyung.." His breathy voice pleaded, his thighs shaking to keep him up. He was grateful for the tight hold of his boyfriend around his waist, or he was sure he'd fall to his knees without a doubt.

“Oh fuuck, that’s my boy.. you’re cumming— hmph!, so much, cute.” Taehyung’s hips mindlessly picked up their thrusting until they stuttered, sleek body coming to a complete stop before Tae threw his head forward in a rasped shout, swelled cock twitching as it released the elder’s heavy load deep into his boyfriend’s clutching insides.

“A-ah.. ah, oh..” The hold around Jungkook’s waist had tightened, holding him closer as Taehyung’s way to steady himself after such a powerful climax. The elder’s body quivered slightly, feeling himself slowly soften while his cum dripped from out of Jungkook, running down the latter’s wobbly legs and onto the ground.

“Wow..”

He made sure Kook was steady enough before pulling out, withdrawing from the younger and immediately resting his back against the wall. Taehyung wiped at his face with the lower fabric of his shirt, the material sticking closely to his heaving chest.

“That was great, I didn’t think you’d let me fuck you in a public place.” Tae turned to look at Jungkook after tucking himself back in, smiling tiredly.

“You simp... I know you wouldn’t have done that for anyone else.” Now Taehyung was teasing, giggling cheekily as he called Koo out for his unforeseen actions.

#fic: tease me #taekook #taekook smut #vkook smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #sub jungkook #dom taehyung #bts mxm smut #sombreboy #bangtanarmynet #boymeetsmxm

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hoshi-u-love-me · 4 years ago

Text

TTT

Group : Seventeen

Pairing : Seventeen × Reader

Genre : Drabble

Word count : 1.7k

Warning : Randomness, absurdity, 🐴이 안되는 컨텐즈, perverted tendencies (it's ok tho it's not harrassment)

a/n : I saw this one video where hannie literally stashed mentos and dalgona in his front overall pocket and I just !!!!!!! EUREKA

One thing you love about your friend group is that nothing ever happens twice. Meaning life is never boring. It is never flat. There is always something you can expect but you don't know what.

Kind of like anxiety.

But better.

So when Kim Mingyu came to your place, pack YOUR bag with YOUR clothes and YOUR other essentials and claimed that he's kidnapping you, you weren't even surprised.

He had taken every one to an impromptu road trip, going as far as renting a minibus without anyone knowing.

"Yah, Kim Mingyu, you forgot my phone charger!" You whined, throwing a crumpled piece of snack wrapper at him, who was driving.

He snaps his head in your direction for a split second before refocusing on the road, "I'm sorry, but you had a lot of things to begin with"

Chan, who was seated next to you, leaned in and whispered, "that and he was totally distracted by your drawer full of panties and bras" he smirked when he saw you widening your eyes in horror.

"Waaaaaaaaaah, Kim Mingyu is a pervert!" Jeonghan yelled from behind you, teasing the younger, "Kim Mingyu saw (Y/N)'s panties and he likes it!" He continued.

Mingyu stammered, trying to explain himself, "y-yah! No! I mean, I-I did saw it but- but- I was helping her! She wouldn't do it herself and someone has to do it! (Y/N)! You should be thankful of me, if I didn't pack them, you'd have no underwear for the rest of the trip!!" He yelled back.

This time, it was Jun who quipped at him, "so the choices were you seeing her undergarments or us knowing she's not wearing anything underneath? Mingyu-yah, you're selfish"

You groaned at their childish behaviour, "that's it! I'm looking for girl friends to hang out with"

You had hoped that would shut the conversation down but your poor choice of words only resulted in most of them ooh-ing you, "girl on girl action, nice" Seungcheol joked from the front seat next to Mingyu.

At Seungcheol's words, the car went to a whole new level of crazy.

It took 15 minutes before the subject of the conversation changed and boy were you relieved.

Seokmin leaned forward from his seat to tap on your shoulder, "(Y/N), I don't feel so good, do you have anything to help my nausea?" You reached into your bag, trying to look for anything that could help his carsickness but found nothing.

Before you can tell him the bad news though, Jeonghan who was seated next to him had shoved something to his hands, "here, I figured someone might be getting sick of MINGYU'S SHITTY DRIVING SKILLS," he yelled the last part to make sure Mingyu heard him, "so that should help"

"Anything for back pain, hyung?" Soonyoung quipped, "I think I pulled something during yesterday's practice" he pouted.

Jeonghan reached into his bag for a second before producing a patch that could help Soonyoung's problem, "don't worry, it's the brand you like that doesn't smell so bad" he said as he leaned back and hand the small item to the younger guy.

Chan got curious and decided to test Jeonghan, "what about something to nibble on? I think I'm kinda hungry" he said. Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at him, "you think you should snack right now? When we get to the town we're gonna have something to eat and it's in like- wait, Mingyu, how much longer 'till we get there?"

Instead of Mingyu, it was Seungcheol who answered him, "an hour and a half-ish, might as well get comfy back there" he said.

"See? Come on hyung, I'll be splitting some of the snack with (Y/N) anyways and I'll still be able to eat there!" Chan whined. Jeonghan was already convinced by Seungcheol's answer anyways so he thought, 'why not?' Before reaching back into his bag and took a bag of chips and handing it over to Chan, "but share with (Y/N), I don't want to lose my place as her favorite member" he said, winking at you when you turn your head towards him.

"Who said you're my favorite member? It could easily be Chan or Vernon since both of them have my back most of the times" you retorted at him which elicit a "yup yup, cool guys squad never dies" from Vernon at the very back while pumping his fist at you in which you returned. Chan on the other hand was laughing.

This time, Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you, as if daring you to say more, "I said so because if you won't admit it, I won't lend you one of my chargers" he lifted up a phone charger from his bag.

You squinted your eyes at him and scoffed, "that's an iphone charger." He feigned a shocked look, going as far as putting a hand to his chest, "dear baby (Y/N), I am trully shocked that you don't think I know you at all" he shook his head with mock sadness.

It was until he reached back into his bag again and lifted up a type-C charger proudly with a smirk, "m'lady" he dangle the charger for a bit in front of your face before dropping it on your lap.

"Okay, no, you're right, you're my favourite member" you grinned and shot him a flying kiss which he pretended to catch and press to his heart.

"Woah, hyung, that's awesome! What else do you have in your bag?" Seokmin exclaimed, leaning closer to Jeonghan to take a peek inside his bag.

Jeonghan hummed and scanned the content, "basic things that you guys might need I guess, like... earplugs?" "Oop- that's for me I think" Minghao said from next to Vernon, making Jeonghan toss the items to him so he could sleep.

He then returned to name some other things which entices Seungkwan to say the least. "I bet you don't have EVERY 'basic needs' though" he scoffed, crossing his arms.

This made Jeonghan slightly offended. He turned in his seat to glare at the younger, "I so do!" "Nuuh, you couldn't have" "what if I do?" "Okay, if you have 5 items that I ask for then I'll pay for your next meal" "Done!" "Done!"

Seungkwan narrowed his eyes for a few momenta before clapping his hands, "ah, this, eyemask" Jeonghan took out two eyemasks from his bag before shoving it back in.

"That's easy... what about... masks?"

Jeonghan shoved his hands in and pulled out two items, "which one? Anti-covid or beautifying your face?"

You 'ooh'-ed at him, "oh yeah, we're DEFINITELY having a beauty night tonight" he said.

"Does that mean-"

You were cut off when he took out a jar of facemask that you both loved. Seeing the item in his hand made you squeal in delight.

"Damn it, that was my next guess," Seungkwan muttered under his breath, "okay so, I'll play fair and call it 3 out of 5... but next is... iphone earbuds!" He exclaimed, trying to trick his hyung since he knew his hyung uses a samsung phone.

(Not so) shockingly, he had one in his bag, holding it proudly.

While Seokmin and Soonyoung were whooping in excitement and wonder, Seungkwan was muttering curses under his breath.

Jeonghan looked extremely proud of himself, he had a grin permanently etched on his face which irked Seungkwan even more due to his smugness.

"Okay, okay, one more, you don't have this then I won't have to pay for your damn meal" he said. Jeonghan just shrugged and motioned for Seungkwan to go forth with his guess.

It took him a moment to think of something. Eyebrows were scrunched and eyes flitting, indicating that he's thinking hard.

A look of revelation suddenly appeared on his face. With a smirk, he bravely said, "sanitary pads"

The whole car 'boo'ed at him and his absurd guess. "That is just absurd!" Jihoon said, "hey, I played fair! He said anything!" Seungkwan retorted, defending himself.

Everyone was split between supporting Seungkwan's guess and saying that he was misusing the loophole, some were just straight up calling him nasty, in which you replied with, "how is it nasty ? YOU're nasty"

"Everyone, everyone!" Jeonghan called out, effectively shutting everyone up, "Seungkwan may have found a loophole and it is within his rights to use it, because let's be honest I would've too if I were him," he chuckled.

"However! What he did not realize is that I'm amazing" he smirked.

"No way..." Seungkwan said under his breath.

Jeonghan only nodded victoriously. He reached into his bag for the last time, grab the thing he wanted and held it up proudly.

The whole car went crazy.

Even the driving Mingyu got curious and looked back and forth between the back seat and the road ahead, earning a scolding smack from Seungcheol.

Seungkwan yelled out in disdain, screaming "this is unfair!" Multiple times.

"You forgot it's nearing (Y/N)'s time of the month and she seem to always have it at the most unconvenient time" he smirked.

This made you scrunch your face at him, "how did you know about my cycle??" "You seem to forget that I know a lot of stuffs about you" he smiled proudly. That didn't make you feel any better initially though.

You turn to look at Chan, "does he really know my cycle?" You asked. Chan nodded with a tight-lipped smile at you, "he remind everyone to take precautions whenever it's your period or nearing your period so that you wouldn't lash at anyone for being annoying, he even mark it on his calendar"

Now his constant sweet texts, food delivered, desserts bought, and hoodies lent during your period makes much more sense.

Knowing what you learnt, you look at Jeonghan with puppy dog eyes, batting your lashes at him, "awww you really do care about me don't you, Hannie ?" He squealed and grab your face in his hands, "awww of course I do, you're our baby, my baby" he spoke as if he was speaking with a baby.

Chan frowned at the sight before him, "I thought I was supposed to be the baby around here"

#kpop #seventeen #pledis #17 #seventeen scenario #kpop scenario #seventeen imagine #kpop au #seventeen au #mingyu #jeonghan #kpop seventeen #drabble #pledis seventeen

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nostalgiahan · 4 years ago

Text

Still Into You

genre: songfic, fluff, smut

pairing: graffiti artist!changbin x afab!reader (gender-neutral language)

word count: 2k

warnings: drug use (cannabis,) trespassing, oral sex (f,) car sex, little dialogue, changbin and reader run from the cops lol

a/n: i was listening to still into you by paramore and this just kinda. came into existence. it’s also very song focused so if you’ve never listened to 2000s alt rock... i’m sorry lmao. the sugarmill in the story is also a real place that my friends and i used to visit and smoke take pictures at, although the cops never found us there haha. anyways enjoy folks.

Your nails had been tapping on the windowsill enough to wear them down to nubs by the time Changbin pulled up in front of your house. When his beat up Subaru pulled up next to the curb, you just about jumped out of your skin from excitement. Today was your fourth anniversary, as well as Valentine’s Day, and the adrenaline rushing through your blood was a sign that you were more than looking forward to whatever fun plans he had up his sleeve.

Compared to most couples on Valentine’s day, your outfit was pretty plain and not at all glamorous. Practical boots, jeans, an old band hoodie and Changbin’s dark green parka were your clothes of choice, but you knew that your boyfriend wasn’t going to take you to some fancy restaurant. No, you two were going adventuring.

As soon as you hop in the passenger seat of the car, shoving a couple of receipts into the foot well, Changbin reaches into his hoodie pocket and gives you a card. It’s crude, made of a folded sheet of printer paper and hastily scribbled on in pen but it’s very fitting for him.

“You better enjoy the card,” he says with a smirk, “because it came to me in a dream. This is pure, undiluted Changbin, packaged for your enjoyment and convenience.”

Giggling, you open the card. Inside is a barely legible “i love you so much y/n” surrounded by hearts, and in the corner is a drawing of a cow dressed in a lab coat and holding a beaker labeled “Moorie Curie.” It’s perfect, but what else did you expect from him?

“Happy anniversary, my love.” When you look up at Changbin, he has the widest smile on his face, cheeks dotted with flecks of paint and eyes crinkled up into little crescents. He’s dressed similarly to you, hair sitting in a pile on top of his head, clearly not having been paid attention to before leaving the house. It doesn’t matter, though, since the both of you will be wearing hoods over your heads anyways. You lean over the center console to give him a quick kiss, although it takes a couple of tries to get his lips since you’re both smiling so hard.

Changbin kicks his old car into gear as he sets off towards his destination. He’s explaining where you’re going, but you can barely hear him over the car speakers blasting Simple Plan and Green Day.

“So yeah, it’s this sugarmill that caught on fire in, like, 1910, and they never renovated it. There’s a bunch of cool abandoned shit around there, too. I think there’s, like, three fucked up couches.”

As you listen to him talk, you stick your fingers through the gap at the top of the side window. It’s permanently cracked open like that, and you have vivid memories of trying to throw cigarette butts through the gap when the two of you were bored.

After a while of listening to pop punk and playing with Changbin’s fingers over the gear shift, you arrive at your destination. Several charred brick buildings sit in the middle of a field, dead trees framing an open area in the center where someone has set up some logs and rocks to form a makeshift circle. Your boyfriend’s eyes scan the landscape, looking for his next canvas. Eventually, he tugs your arm and leads you towards one of the buildings, smiling back at you. “C’mon, let’s go explore this place.”

The two of you wander for a while, over rickety walkways and up staircases, taking pictures with your Polaroid and holding hands the whole time. Eventually, Changbin finds a stretch of wall big enough to start his work. Setting his duffel bag on the ground, he beckons you over and crouches down, inviting you to hop onto his back.

He pulls out a can of white spray paint, shaking it and popping the cap with his thumb. As he starts to paint, making large, sweeping motions with his arms, you really wished he had worn something sleeveless, however impractical. After lighting a slightly crushed joint you’d fished out of your pocket, you nestled your nose into his shoulder, holding the joint up to Changbin’s lips. He takes a few pulls as he works, the previously bland wall turning into a beautiful blend of blues, purples, and whites. It’s always fascinating to see how he works, seemingly not thinking before laying down a line of paint, yet each stroke seems to perfectly fit in with the others.

As he’s switching colors, Changbin lets you off his back, settling his hands on your sides. He stares at you for a bit, trying to study every bit of your face that isn’t covered by the oversized hood of his jacket. After a while, he smiles, pulling you close and kissing your forehead. Changbin always called you his muse, but you never expected him to take it as literally as he did, often staring at you or asking unrelated questions when he was stuck with a piece. He sways gently back and forth, pressing little kisses to your head, as Good Charlotte emanates from the tiny phone speaker in his back pocket. Occasionally, he’ll pull back just a tiny bit to really study your face, kissing you softly and muttering something along the lines of “i really can’t believe how fucking incredible you are” or “i love you so much it’s unreal.”

It’s not until a few more songs have ended that he pulls away, inviting you back onto his back as you light another joint. The piece is almost done, the tag “SPEARB” painted in blobby letters, shining artificially. All he has left is the outline, but his work is cut short when you hear the faint sound of sirens approaching and the light creeping in from the broken windows flashes a faint red and blue.

What happens next is like clockwork. You hop off of Changbin’s back, putting out the joint on the wall and throwing it into his duffel bag along with the other cans of paint he’s left out. What you’re supposed to do next is grab the bag and run, but Changbin is trying his best to finish a really specific detail and the more time he has that can in his hand, the less time you guys have to get the fuck out. After what seems like an eternity of whisper-yelling and (gently) stomping your foot at him, he caps the can and throws it into the bag. Finally, the two of you are off. As he’s picking up the bag, however, you notice what he was taking so long to finish. In tiny lettering, in the bottom corner of the piece, 4 words. “fuck cops” on one line, and “for y/n” on another.

As the two of you clamber over wooden planks and piping, pulling your hoods over your heads and your masks over your faces to hide your identities, Changbin grabs your hand and squeezes. He lets go almost as quickly as he grabbed it but the sentiment is still there; i’m here, i’m gonna keep us safe. It’s a welcome sentiment when shouts of “police,” and “show yourselves” echo through the abandoned hall.

Fifteen minutes of running and one chain link fence climb later, you’re back at the car, cops nowhere in sight. You’re panting heavily as you throw off the parka and throw it into the backseat, and Changbin doesn’t look any better as he’s gulping water and fanning his face. Right as you’re about to climb in, he grabs your arm and spins you so you’re pressed between him and the car, holding your cheeks in his hands and grinning at you.

“God. Fuck. Wow. You’re unreal. I love you so much.”

You’re unable to do anything but nod. The two of you are still breathless and in that moment you realize that’s what your love was like. In the four years of you dating, your love never went stale, you never settled into a routine. You were always doing new things, like going on spur of the moment road trips or fucking around at playgrounds in the early hours of the morning. You never thought about the future, just did your best to enjoy your time in the present and bask in the glow of each other’s affection. You expected that after such a long time together you’d at least feel a little duller, but everything still feels as fresh and new as when you were teenagers and sneaking out to make out on park benches when no one was looking.

As you’re lost in thought, Changbin pulls you impossibly closer and presses his lips to yours, hard. Music is still playing from his phone as the kiss becomes more heated, and you make sure to add 1985 by Bowling for Soup to your “running from the cops” playlist later. Almost every memory you have with Changbin is attached to a song, and this one is no exception.

Changbin pulls away to wrench open the back seat door, guiding you to sit and kneeling on the dirty floor. He heaves the duffel bag on the seat next to you and you dig through it, searching for the joint you threw into it earlier. Once you’ve gotten to My Own Worst Enemy, you’ve lit it and Changbin has gotten your jeans halfway down your legs and your thighs over his shoulders.

Your boyfriend wastes no time in burying his face in your heat, licking hot stripes up and down and moaning loudly into your core. He pulls away to rest his head on your thigh and take a few puffs of the joint, and in that moment you remember your Polaroid exists and manage to snap a picture of him blowing out smoke, with your hand in his hair and his face squished between your legs.

Changbin pays it no mind and gets straight back to work, sucking on your clit and easing his tongue into your hole. Your grip on his hair tightens and you arch into his mouth, fucking yourself back on his tongue. Picking up on this, he hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls your towards him, close enough that you’re afraid he’s going to suffocate himself trying to pleasure you.

It’s hot and sticky and perfect, and the atmosphere combined with the weed and the fact that Seo fucking Changbin is eating you out is too much for you and you cum all over his tongue, which eagerly laps up your release, taking long, languid strokes to make sure he gets every drop. As you come down, Changbin is stroking your thighs and sucking hickeys into the soft flesh, and you register that Misery Business needs to be added to your “dirty car sex” playlist.

After basking in the yellow glow of the car’s overhead light and the thrilling afterglow of just having done something you shouldn’t have for a while, lazily finishing off the rest of your joint, the two of you get your things in order and begin the journey to Changbin’s apartment, speeding down the highway with the windows cracked the whole way. He carries you into the building like he always does, setting you down gently on the couch before heading off to the kitchen so you can make some blueberry muffins together. You do, and they’re terrible, so you heat up leftovers instead and watch reruns of old James Bond movies, cuddling on the couch. The night ends with Chasing Cars and you laying on Changbin’s chest, naked and sweaty and anticipating lots of aches in the morning, whispering tiny i love yous into each others’ skin and it’s perfect. But everything is always perfect with him. What else could you possibly expect?

please let me know if you guys enjoyed this!! feel free to send an ask, i always love receiving them🤌🏻🤌🏻

#stray kids imagines #changbin imagines #changbin x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #changbin fluff #changbin smut #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz smut #skz #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #skz x reader #changbin #can u guys tell i miss hanging out with my friends 😔

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alcoress · 3 years ago

Note

kags you could ship your moots if you want

ok i said before that im scared of doing this bc what if i don’t know people well enough but. i think that’s just me overthinking so let’s go !!

@katsdni + kaminari denki — ya’ll, i have already spoken on this many times, you know how i feel. grumpy/serious! + person who helps them let go and stop competing, person who helps them realize that you can be happy without being first, and without destroying yourself in the process. happy-go-lucky/constantly laughing + person that shows them that seriousness and commitment are not scary, that putting down the humorous mask and admitting you’re sad or disappointed will not make you a burden. skateboarding at midnight, “solemates” written on the bottom of your shoes in permanent marker, putting fake tattoos from the dollar store on each other’s cheeks, constant bickering and light-hearted shoving.

@shotosjupiter + shoji mezo — ok ive said todoroki before and i meant it, but shoji was a draw for that and here’s why: he’s perfect for you. getting ice cream and walking together, he’s always holding your hand and it’s kind of funny, like when little kids have to line up in school and the teacher makes them hold hands so none of them get lost? yeah, he hovers, and it’s hella endearing. steady reassurance that you are enough, that you have done enough, that you deserve rest and peace and to live with enjoyment and happiness - and you can’t deny what he’s saying, because mezo is undeniably genuine; he would never lie to you. he never has an ulterior motive, he never tries to hide his thoughts or actions; he gifts you with absolute trust.

@aelbedo + xiao — he finds you to be so vulnerable that it hurts, he wants to protect you, but he’s not sure if he should stay, if he’s allowed to stay. but you’re sweet and kind and he doesn’t want to scare you with the horrible burden he’s carrying with him. doesnt understand most signs of affection, but he brings you a serving of his favorite food and he doesn’t mind when you brush shoulders with him. if you ever give him a gift, he’s never letting it out of his sight. laces his fingers with yours when no one else is around - half to have you close to him, and half to make sure he can feel your pulse where your wrists are pressed together - to make sure you are alive and well and he is not hurting you by existing near you. xiao can bear many things, but hurting you is not one of them.

@cozmixs + kazuha — maybe i just like kazuha too much, maybe this actually makes sense. he is always centered, unruffled, level-headed. he greatly admires your determination to prove yourself and get better and stronger at everything you do, but he also sees how that can tear you apart at times. kazuha wants to be a sanctuary for you, someone you can come to and find rest. he’s not without his own ambitions, and he also strives for constant improvement, but he sees how unwilling you are to bend at times, and he fears that will make you break. you inspire him, he has haiku upon haiku piling up in his mind about every moment he spends with you, the rush of the sea breeze and the beating of his heart.

@kirishimas-manly-eyeliner + uraraka ochako — she holds grudges, but you forgive easily. this is the first thing she admires about you. then your creativity, and then your dedication to the arts, and then the way you smile at her whenever she comes into a room and then everything, and all too soon she adores you. you’re both wearing mittens, hands in each other’s pockets as you explore an open-air market in the winter. she kisses you with powdered sugar on her lips inside the warm, glowing interior of your favorite bakery - you visit it every saturday morning. she does her best to make up a picnic basket for you so that you can sit in the park together and watch the grass and flowers sway. ochako believes you are the sun.

@forget-me-not-myo + toga himiko — she talks so much that she worries you won’t like her for it, that you’ll find her chattering off-putting. your short responses worry her further, until she realizes that you’re not displeased with her, but you just don’t want to talk, or don’t have anything to say in reply. she’s happy to just exist near you if you want silence, or hand you her phone so you can listen to her playlists that she makes especially for you. she brings you gifts constantly, soft clothes and pretty skirts and cute stuffed animals. she braids your hair and puts bracelets on your wrists. she adores you, and it’s obvious.

@strwbry-m1lk + sero hanta — maybe im just thinking about a particular vibe but? great listener, just lets you lay your head in his lap while you talk and he watches you hands move around, probably grabs one and kisses your knuckles. brings you mango tea with lychee jellies, plays riptide for you on his ukulele, loves nothing more than laying down and having you rest your head on his chest. his kisses taste like vanilla chapstick. absolutely beams at you when you come into the room, there’s literally no way for anyone to mistake the way he looks at you as anything but crushingly fond.

@luvmojii + iida tenya — finds your competitiveness amusing, and will absolutely play air hockey with you even if he loses every time. hates that when he kisses you his glasses sometimes get knocked askew, so he always does this adorable thing where you can totally tell he wants a kiss or some form of close affection bc he’ll take his glasses off and he’ll just be squinting ajsj. thinks giving you a piggyback ride is kind of undignified but quickly realizes he doesn’t give a shit about what other people think of him so long as he makes you happy. always brings you book recommendations and sends you news articles about topics you’re interested in. knows every order you make at every restaurant by heart, and learns to cook all of those orders so he can make your favorites for you himself.

if i missed you pls lmk!! there is also the possibility that i feel i don’t know you well enough to write one of these so (;´・`)> but pls tell me if ur a close moot (someone i talk to frequently) and i missed you!! bc chances are i meant to include you <3

#station inbox | ೃ࿔₊• 💌#mooncakes | ೃ࿔₊• 🥮#kags has time off | ೃ࿔₊• 🥢#fave | ೃ࿔₊• 🥮

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always-and-forever-a-killjoy · 4 years ago

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Bad Luck Beads

Hey fuckers! So I finally finished the bad luck beads project I’ve been working on since early July, so for about three weeks, and now I finally get to post it! The bulk of it is just two big info sheets, but I also have assorted random headcanons which I’ll put at the bottom.

Original bad luck bead post here for context.

Also so many thank yous to @starman-trashcan for helping me with this, you’re the real rock star here. And also thank you to @stressed-depressed-emo-mess and @wishiwasthemoon-tonight for tolerating me screaming about this in their dms constantly.

Sheet 1:

[Image description: a sheet of paper reading ‘bad luck beads’ across the top. There are three tables. The first reads ‘Material’ at the top of one column and ‘Notes’ at the top of the other. In descending order it reads: Wood - rarest, sometimes carved Plastic - most common, cheapest Glass - rare, hard to paint Ceramic - also hard to paint Clay/rock - common, often Zone-made Resin - generally not favored, cheap

The second table reads ‘Use’ at the top of one column and ‘Notes’ at the top of the other. In descending order it reads: As bracelets - most common, many killjoys have one As necklaces - less common, takes a lot of beads In earrings - can be impractical, considered showy As anklets - relatively uncommon, more subtle than bracelets Sewn onto jackets - also considered showy, somewhat uncommon Tucked into pockets - most subtle, hardest to lose Hung in dwellings - designates it as a permanent dwelling Hung in vehicles - for good luck driving, can designate the car as a home

The third table reads ‘Desigh’ at the top of one column and ‘Meaning’ at the top of the other. In descending order it reads: Flames - strength Lightning bolts - speed, often gifted to motorbabies Flowers - peace, prosperity Smiley faces - happiness Hearts - love and caring Music notes - success in music, usually for performers Water drops - rain, luck finding water Stars - finding your way, guidance Sun - long life Moon - peace, rest House or tree - safety, shelter Wings - freedom Dagger or other weaponry - luck in fights, accurate shooting Recipient’s symbol - way to bless that ‘joy in particular Maker’s symbol - way to say “remember me” Killjoy spider - general wish for luck Dots/any abstract pattern - general good luck Wheels - good luck with vehicles

The sun, moon, and stars have a little note next to them which says ‘traditional to paint on beads for children’ and there are little drawings of each mentioned symbol next to the chart.

End image description.]

Sheet 2:

[Image description: a sheet of paper with ‘bad luck beads’ written across the top. There are several drawings of strands of beads.

The first is a small, child-sized bracelet, and is labelled ‘Bracelet for a child, mostly likely given to them by their first crew- more beads would be added as they grew’. There are also other labels pointing at the bracelet which say ‘Zone-made clay beads’, ‘symbols of their crew’ and ‘sun, moon, and stars’.

The second is a stud earring with a strand of six beads dangling off it, and is labelled ‘Earring with a strand of beads, most likely worn by a musician of the Zones’. There are also other labels pointing at the earring which say ‘music notes’, ‘resin beads’ and ‘musician’s symbol’.

The third is a small, child-sized bracelet, and is labelled ‘Strand of beads likely belonging to a crash queen, given the designs’. The other labels pointing at the bracelet say ‘Symbol of either the maker or recipient’, ‘Lightning bolt for speed’ and ‘flames for strength’.

The last strand of beads is a necklace, and is labelled ‘Necklace of an old killjoy, likely worn since they were very young and added to over the years, given the variety of beads’. There are also other labels pointing at different parts which say ‘sun, moon, and stars’, ‘Beads made of pebbles, likely the first strand’, ‘Expensive wooden beads’, ‘Plastic beads of varying shapes and colors’, and ‘Small set of pebble beads, likely made for them by a younger killjoy’.

End image description.]

I’ve added close-ups of varying parts of the sheet under the cut, as well as a few bonus random headcanons!

Extra Pictures (Sheet 1):

Extra Pictures (Sheet 2):

Random Bonus Headcanons:

Bad luck beads often have the maker’s symbol on them, but due to the culture of exchanging beads, they often outlive their own maker and original wearer.

If crews can’t find a killjoy’s mask, but they have a strand of bad luck beads that the ‘joy made or wore, they put that in the mailbox instead. It’s not quite the same, but it’s the closest it’s possible to get.

If the crewmates of the fallen killjoy are able to put their mask in the mailbox, instead of also putting the bad luck beads in, the beads often go to whoever was closest to the ‘joy or are split amongst their crew. This is one of the only circumstances bad luck beads will change hands without specifically being given.

Just like killjoys will sometimes leave their mask behind if they know they’re likely to die on a run, sometimes killjoys will leave their bad luck beads with a friend if they don’t think they’re coming home. It’s considered incredibly risky, as now you’re going on a dangerous run without even added luck, but it’s a way of protecting those you leave behind.

Some people do sell bad luck beads, but bought bad luck beads are considered to have less power than bad luck beads you were given. The most common way to get around this is for killjoys to buy beads for each other, which preserves the original intent better.

Selling your own bad luck beads is an act of desperation- no killjoy would willingly give up their beads unless they were in desperate times. Relatively few killjoys will actually take someone’s bad luck beads as a result, preferring to try and help them in other ways, but there’s always someone willing to buy.

Stolen bad luck beads hold no power at all.

Many patterns for beads have specific meanings, but there are quite a few (like dots, the killjoy spider, and other abstract patterns) that are simply more general wishes for good luck.

Some people consider it bad luck to split a strand up, but this isn’t a universal belief and many killjoys do split strands if they don’t have enough strands for every member of their crew. Strands can also be combined into longer strands.

Individual bad luck beads can be (and often are) a gift if the maker doesn’t have enough for a full strand

It’s customary to give new killjoys who don’t have any beads a strand if you have one to spare.

You can tell a lot about a killjoy by the kind of beads they wear and where they wear them; bracelets are the most common and least informative, but necklaces means they’ve been out in the desert long enough to accumulate a lot of beads, and beads sewn onto a jacket or item of clothing often indicates that they like to show off their luck, for example.

It’s not uncommon for desert-born killjoys to wear a necklace or single long strand with all the beads they’ve accumulated in their lifetime, from the very first strand given to them by their first crew to the last beads they ever got. However, many prefer to keep the strands individual so they’re easier to exchange with people.

#bad luck beads #ttlofk #danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #headcanons #long post #this took me THREE FUCKING WEEKS #so you guys better appreciate it /j

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wulfies-kpop-fanfics · 4 years ago

Text

One Photo → Mark Lee [2]

↳ Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳ AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳ Word count: 2,610

↳ Chapters: Prelude | 1 | You Are Here! | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

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

TUESDAY - 2

The next day you get up to your alarm, a little groggy and on autopilot. You mumble a greeting to Rhiannon who is already in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal. It's not uncommon for you to be undressed in front of her, so she barely reacts for a few moments when you reach into your clean clothes hamper in the living room and begin to change right there.

However, in the midst of putting on your bra, Rhiannon squeals in excitement, nearly making you pee yourself.

“What the hell?!” You exclaim, now convinced that you're fully awake.

“You-your front! Your entire torso! Look!” Rhiannon stands from the little dining table and approaches you, poking your stomach. You nearly let out a scream yourself when you see it.

Your entire torso, from collarbone to hip is completely covered with scar tissue, as well as the underside of your arms and the palms of your hands. “Rhiannon, I-”

“Turn around.” She spoke quickly, and you obey her. She is silent for a little while, which is freaking you out even more than you already were. When she traces an outline over your right shoulder blade, your skin twitches in response. “(Y/N), this is the largest soulmate scar I've ever seen,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I-” You're barely able to stutter out any words. You stand there, half-naked as your best friend examines you.

“Does it hurt?” Rhiannon pokes and prods on the newly formed scar tissue, primarily focusing on your shoulders.

“N-no, not at all.” You purse your lips. You feel like normal if not a bit overwhelmed.

“This has got to be from a hug,” she concludes, nudging you to turn you back around. “There are perfect handprint scars on your back, too. You hugged Mark yesterday, right?”

“He, uh, hugged me three times,” you confirm. “Johnny and Jaehyun hugged me twice.”

“Then it's one of them!” Rhiannon is squealing with delight. “That is so exciting!”

Your face fell a little, finishing putting on your bra and shirt you picked out for the day. “Yeah,” you say softly.

“What's wrong?” Rhiannon is beginning to look concerned, ghosting a hand over your shoulder.

“It's Mark,” you state, “I can feel it, but…”

“But what?”

“If that's true, everything changes. When he leaves, am I going to be able to handle it?” you finish getting dressed and stop to look at your hands. “I… I already know I won't be able to handle the depression and separation anxiety, I won't be able to handle being constantly sick… I was never taught about any of this and I never even thought it would happen to me.”

“(Y/N)...”

“I need to go. I have class.”

You took in a deep breath as you gripped your tablet pen. You had been spending the last month's worth of photoshop labs on drawing a picture of Iron Man for your digital rendering final, and you had been doing well enough until today. Now that your hands had part of your scar, they gripped your pen differently and you were slowly growing more and more frustrated.

It's not that you were angry that you had found your soulmate, and you were definitely happy it was Mark- but everything was happening so quickly. What were you going to say to him? Would his scar ruin his career? Were you ready for any of this? You looked up to your computer screen, seeing your reflection in the black screensaver. Seems like you had been overthinking long enough for the monitor to go to sleep.

You can see the buds of forming tears in your reflection. They were totally uncalled for and you knew it. Finding a soulmate was a happy time. In a world where all of this was completely normalized, you had no idea why you suddenly started feeling like a freak. On your way to class, you had already started to feel eyes on you. Most scars were small, dainty and cute, like a handshake or a poke to the shoulder- not a giant one that covered your entire chest, the inside of your arms and the palms of your hands. Scars larger than an apple were extremely rare, and ones like yours were the rarest of all.

What a wonderful scar, you heard your teacher say when you walked into class that morning. They say that if your scar is big, you're meant to be together for more than one lifetime.

Maybe that was true, and it felt like a big responsibility you weren't ready for. You jumped in your seat when your phone vibrated in your pocket.

Mark: Are you in class?

You: Yeah, but it's almost done

Mark: What is your classroom number? I'd like to pick you up if that's okay

You: Are you sure?

Mark: Yeah! I wanted to spend more time with you today, I feel like it wasn't enough yesterday

You: You're cheesy

You: My classroom is 103A in M building

Mark: You know it

Mark: See you soon

You found yourself smiling at his texts. Talking to him eased some of your anxiety, but it still lingered in the back of your head. You put your phone down and shake your mouse so the screen comes back to life. Iron Man stares back at you, and you almost close the program. Your thoughts were irrational, and the only thing your scars were stopping you from doing was finishing the touch-ups of the last few pixels of this piece.

Your hands will get used to it, you scold yourself, this is a good thing, (Y/N). You're not your parents.

You're snapped out of your thoughts again as your classmates begin to pack up, the quiet rustle of backpacks filling the room. You look back at your piece, over a month's work put into it and all you needed was maybe five minutes more of touch-ups and it would be perfect.

The next time this classroom was going to be used was later tonight for the college's dungeons and dragons party, so you didn't think anyone would mind you staying to finish up.

The five minutes of touch-ups turned into 20 minutes of improving mistakes you've noticed, and 20 minutes of improving mistakes turned into an hour of being completely absorbed in your work. You had been so focused on everything that you barely even perk up when you hear one of the computer chairs rolling closer to you.

“I thought you went home, Moose,” you say casually, sticking your tongue out and swiping a line of light reflection onto a strip of red plating.

“You have a friend named Moose?” The voice replies, and you nearly jump out of your seat, the pen swiping across the tablet and drawing a large white streak across Iron Man's face.

“Mark,” you sigh, placing a hand on your chest and trying to take in a deep breath. “You scared me.”

Mark smiled sheepishly. “Sorry…” he looks at your computer screen. “I didn't mean to ruin your piece.”

You smile gently, hitting ctrl z on your keyboard. The streak disappears, you save the piece and turn off the computer. “It's okay. I'm just lucky I don't have autosave turned on.”

Mark sighed with relief. “You kinda scared me,” he starts, looking you in the eye. “You didn't come out of the classroom for so long that I thought you might have forgotten. I probably would have left if your teacher didn't recognize me and say it was okay for me to come inside.”

Your frown at him and avoid his eye contact, deciding to focus on zipping up your backpack. “I'm sorry,” you say dejectedly. “I was dumb, but I would just be a downright moron if I stood you up on purpose.”

Mark laughed softly, watching you pack up. “What did you want to do today?” he asked, voice softer.

“I don't know,” you say, standing and slinging your backpack over your shoulders. “I would like to drop this off at my dorm, though. It's kinda heavy.”

“Okay,” Mark nods. “We can start with that and go from there.”

While you travelled back to your dorm, nearly all of your anxiety about your scars disappeared. You talked about anything but the scar that was easily noticeable through your summery outfit. The more people looked at you, the more you wonder if Mark was keeping quiet out of courtesy for your aversion to his first question on the subject.

Mark was sweet, complimenting your outfit and keeping up a strong conversation about marvel movies.

“Have you seen Endgame yet?” you asked him once you got back to the subject of Iron Man, and Mark laughed sadly.

“To my disappointment, no,” he answered, letting you board the subway first, pulling up his face mask. “Haven't had the time.” he stood close enough to you on the busy subway car that you could still hear him properly.

“Well, if you want we could see it,” you offer quickly, blushing and looking away as you saw his smile through his eyes.

“Are you asking me out, (Y/N)?” he asks, nudging you gently with his elbow.

“N-no,” you respond, swearing up and down mentally that you were as red as a tomato.

“I would graciously accept, but how about we wait until tomorrow? I want to catch up a little bit, I haven't watched any of the films in a while, I've been so busy preparing for the tour.” Mark smiled when you turned back to look at him again.

“Okay, well, I have all the films at my dorm,” you say, biting your lip.

“Would your roommate be okay if we stayed in?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, she would be more than okay,” you tell him, which causes both of you to start laughing. “She will probably faint if she sees you again.”

“I think I've had my lifetime fair share of people fainting in front of me,” he says humorously.

“I wouldn't worry. She is working on her finals today and probably won't be back until after you leave,” you say. “We will have the place to ourselves.”

“Okay, that sounds good. I'm looking forward to catching up. Do you have popcorn?” he asks sheepishly.

“Yeah, we-” the subway comes to an abrupt stop at your station, and you nearly lose your balance. Mark catches you before your face ploughs directly into his chest. He’s holding your arm gently as you exit the subway car, and it is then you truly notice that Mark's scars are clearly visible, from his palms to the edge of his t-shirt, just like you.

When you get back to your dorm room, you place your bag and your shoes in the hallway, leading Mark inside. He pulls down his mask and sighs happily, joining you in removing his shoes and placing them on the shoe rack.

“I remember when my dorm was about this size,” he says wistfully, looking around. You frown a little.

“You mean everyone in NCT used to live in a place like this?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to prepare a pack of popcorn.

“Not exactly, the different subgroups all had their own dorms, but they were all tiny, for more than 3 guys to live in at once.” Mark wanders over to you in the kitchen, leaning back on the counter and crossing his ankles.

“I'm sorry,” you say. “I hope it's different for you now.”

“Yeah,” he replies, watching you put the popcorn in the microwave and press the appropriate numbers. “We all live pretty comfortably now.”

You smile at him. “Good, I'm happy. You deserve to live in a place where you're comfortable.”

Mark is silent for a moment. The microwave finishes and he moves out of your way as you grab a large mixing bowl to put your snack in. He’s watching you diligently, and you feel that too familiar pinch in your chest. It's more intense than you've ever felt from just watching internet content of him on your laptop.

“What film did you want to start with?” you ask, leading him to the living room as you pull a tote bag out from under your coffee table that contains your Marvel movie collection. “We can just watch Infinity War if you want, or we can watch them in story order if you're feeling a little daring.”

“You know the order to watch them chronologically?” he asks, sitting down with the popcorn bowl in his lap.

“Yeah. Rhiannon and I watched them all in order up to the release of Endgame.”

“Wow, I'm impressed,” Mark comments, popping a couple of pieces of the snack into his mouth. “What's the order of the last three films?”

“Let me see… it's Thor Ragnarok, Ant-Man and the Wasp and Infinity War,” you answer. “Wanna watch those?”

“Yeah. Let's do that.”

A few hours later you both are now watching Infinity War, about halfway through the film. A blanket had made its way over your laps and the popcorn bowl has been long empty, sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You can tell Mark is nervous. You're sitting close, your legs nearly touching, and you wonder if you should say something. You hoped you didn't scare him away from saying anything when the topic was brought up the night before. You didn’t want your bitterness to ruin it all.

Once you spare one glance from the movie to look over at him, you notice Mark has already beat you to it. His gaze pierces right through you, and somehow you feel as if Mark is seeing your soul.

“I don't want to make you uncomfortable,” he says, half-smiling at you. “I don't want to repeat yesterday's mistake.”

“It's okay,” You say softly, “you didn't know.”

“But I should have.” He sounds serious and definitely looks the part, too.

You lick your lips as you watch him. There's something that hits you, like a wave of anxiety that is different from your own.

“Mark,” you have to pause to gather your words. “You've known me for two days. Mistakes are bound to happen, and I… I don't actually hate the premise.”

“Would you be okay with, um, talking about it?” The movie is playing in the background, the flashing images reflecting different lights onto Mark's face.

“There is not much to talk about, is there?” you asked, holding up your scarred hand. “It's here, on both of us, and I'm happy. Scared, but happy.”

“You're not upset about it?” he asked, and it was almost like he was bracing for rejection.

You took his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “No. You said you wanted to know someone so well that you didn't have to think about it, right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Mark returned the grip, his eyes glancing between your eyes and your hand. “You're right, we don't have to think about it.” Mark smiles softly at you, freeing his hand from yours so he can wrap his arm around your shoulder, guiding you to lean into his side.

It's maybe two hours later when you're stirred ever so slightly by the jiggling of the lock to your front door. You don't open your eyes, trying to ignore the sound and continue to cuddle into the warm body squished against you on the couch.

Soft voices are muffled through your ears, and in your half slumber you can't exactly make any words out. Fatigue eventually grips you once again, returning to the vivid dream you were engrossed in just moments ago.

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #nct #nct127 #nctu #nct scenarios #nct imagines #reader insert #fanfiction #kpop fanfictions #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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ddaengyoonmin · 5 years ago

Text

Genre: smut, a bit of fluff

Warnings: public sex, riding, slightly dom!reader, lots of talk of stuff in a sex store.

Word count: 3.6k

A/n: this is co-written by my bestest bud @kingsuckjin ! She wrote the smut part, so if you love this story make sure to send her some asks to let her know 💖

Summary: You work in a sex store, and a customer comes in that needs a bit of extra assistance...

——————

The store smelled a lot like plastic. It was masked by the heavy perfume that the store owner instructed you to spray around in the lingerie section.

Rows and rows of bright colored panties and bras hung, now likely permanently coated in the cheap perfume that misted down on it daily.

It was only you at the store, as it was most days. The amount of customers that felt like stopping by a small town sex store in the middle of the day was next to none.

You sat on the large counter, your legs dangling off the edge as you let out a loud sigh. Your last customer had been about three hours ago right when your store had opened, and you weren’t sure if you could even call them a customer, they hadn’t bought anything, they merely asked far too many questions about getting the length on their dildo they were going to purchase juuuust right.

Then there was Yoongi, the boy who worked next door who would come over and chat with you occasionally. It was nice to have things to pass the time, there was only so much you could do on your phone when the wifi in the shop was shit.

You were just about to go to the computer and check if any of the new nipple tassels that you’d requested to be ordered in were in transit when you heard the familiar but rare ding of the front door opening.

Your head shot over to see a tall brown haired man awkwardly stumbling in. You had worked here for a few years and had a pretty good eye for when a customer was in a sex shop for the first time.

“Hello and welcome to Magic Desires. What brings ya in today?” you chimed cheerfully from where you sat at the counter. Not wanting to scare him off by running up to him right away.

“Ah” He choked out as he disappeared behind a row of lingerie.

There was silence for a few moments before he spoke again.

“Actually can I ask you something?” He yelled out.

You slid off the counter slowly and tucked your phone that had been in your hand into your back pocket of your jeans and put on your customer service smile.

When you got to the man you had to hold back a slight gasp when you realized how attractive he was. He had a dreamy look on his face, lost in thought as he fingered through a row of pink bras.

“How can I help you?” you chirped.

“What…” He bit down on his lip, thinking hard on how to phrase his question. “What kind of lingerie do women like?” you could see his embarrassment displayed on all of his features, he looked like he wanted to jump back behind another row.

“Oh?” You giggled “Um...everyone is different? That's why we have so many different ones…”

The young man looked to the floor and cursed quietly under his breath.

“Looking for your girlfriend I’m guessing?”

He shook his head and pulled another bra off the rack, a blue one this time, he looked at it with a confused face, the way one might look at a math problem.

You laughed again and he put it back quickly.

“I’m a photographer. I’ve just got ahead of myself and made a post on my page that I was going to be offering some more...sensual photography sessions if you know what I mean. And I figured I should buy my first some outfits for the shoots they’ve booked…” he sighed and looked down to the ground. “But I have no idea what women would want to wear.”

“Well what would you like to see a woman in? I’m sure these women are taking their photos for someone else no? What do you think their partner would want to see them in?” you asked, raising an eyebrow up.

Like a lightbulb shone in his head his eyes lit up and he nodded.

“Okay, I think that could help.” He bit down on his lip again. It was cute how he did that, you couldn’t help but notice that his eyes flicked up and down your figure this time as he rolled his lip between his teeth.

“I think…” He turned around to the rack behind him and flipped through a few hangers until he pulled one out. A lace red bra and pantie set dangling from the hanger was now being held out in front of you. “I think I need help seeing what it would look like on someone before I buy it. Would you?” You could tell that he was growing hot with embarrassment, yet he continued to stand by his bold request, holding the set out in front of himself and out to you.

“I think this looks like your size? Don’t hit me if I’m wrong in a bad way, this obviously isn’t my thing.” His eyes twinkled a bit as he smirked at you slightly.

Your mouth hung open, and you started to become a stuttering mess of nonsense.

“I-I guess maybe?” Finally got out.

Of all of the things that you could’ve finally come up with, that was it? Was that what you really meant to say?

Maybe a part of you really did mean it…

It was boring here, and it wouldn’t be the worst way to pass the time. Fuck it. He’s cute.

You smiled shyly and grabbed the set out of his hand and checked the size.

“You were right.” you chuckled softly.

The man in front of you did a tiny fist pump to celebrate and laughed at his goofiness, getting shy once again.

“Go on then.” He nodded his head in the direction of your store’s fitting room.

“I’m gonna lock up first, this is weird.” you decided and walked over to the front doors, taking the key from around your neck and using it to lock them.

You could hear amused noise coming from the man in your store as you did this.

Damn it why were you such a sucker for a cute face.

You quickly walked into the dressing rooms, trying to avoid him as you passed but he followed close behind, standing outside of the curtain that you were now behind.

“I’m Taehyung by the way. You may have heard of me?” you heard his voice from behind the red cloth as you slipped your jeans off of your ankles.

“Um...Should I have?” you unclipped your white worn bra and started to exchange it for the red one that you can't deny was about to make your tits look amazing.

“I won the art contest downtown this past summer.” He replied, “It was kind of a big deal.”

You checked yourself over in the mirror, adjusting the cloth on the back of the panties so that they weren’t folded over awkwardly in any places.

“If you’re into that” you spoke back.

“What?” you heard him reply in a slightly surprised tone.

You pulled back the curtains quickly to see him standing far too close to where the cloth had been.

“If you’re into that it's a big deal I guess.” You shrugged.

Your comment seemed to go ignored as Taehyung’s eyes roamed up and down your body.

“Damn.” He whispered. “Yeah, I’ll take that.” he breathed out.

“Okay, that was easy.” you chuckled and spun around to head back into the changing room.

“C-can I take your picture.” He quickly stammered. You turned back around in just enough time to see his eyes quickly try to pretend they weren’t just staring at your ass when you were turned around.

“I just wanna see how it’d look with my camera.” he patted the bulky pack that hung on his shoulder.

“Really?” you raised an eyebrow with a smirk, “It’s not so you can have some new pictures to get off to at home?” you winked, “We’ve got plenty of porn in the back.”

His jaw tightened at that and he stepped away from you for a moment.

“I’m sorry.” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

You shook your hands out in front of you quickly. “No, I’m just joking around. Actually...sure. I don’t mind. Fuck it.” you shrugged. God, the things you were doing for this boy, simply because he asked. You were acting whipped and he was a complete stranger, you wanted to smack yourself and get some sense back. Though, what would be the harm in seeing where this goes...you really were quite bored…

“Oh?” His eyes widened again, he was not really expecting you to say yes, it was a longshot.

You nodded.

“Right here?”

Taehyung looked around your shop to decide on a better spot.

“There.” he pointed to the couch that you had a manikin laying on modeling a set of lingerie and thigh high socks.

“Um...Occupied?”

“You can’t move her boss?” he winked at you.

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “You better buy more than just a pantie and bra set for all the quality customer service you’re getting.” you teased as you walked across the store to move the manikin from the red lounge sofa to the floor.

Taehyung had followed, adjusting some settings on his camera now standing next to the couch.

“Just...model, it doesn’t matter too much, I really just need to see how to colors show up.”

“Mhmm.” you hummed sarcastically, teasing him again.

“Ah shut up.” He shied away from you, pulling out his camera and snapping a few quick shots once you got sitting on the couch, moving from laying on your side to showing him your backside.

He continued to mutter curses as you posed for him.

You were guilty of trying to be as sexy as you could be, but you couldn’t help wanting to show off for a man bold enough to ask to take pictures of you like this.

“Okay yeah. I’m taking it.” His eyes seemed to have a hard time looking anywhere but the hem of the lace red panties you were wearing.

“Alright I’ll go change out then.”

“Or…” He muttered, scanning your body that had been obviously teasing him.

“Or?” Your eyes twinkled now meeting his directly.

“You wear it well, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to unsee anyone else wearing that without thinking of how much better it looks on you…I-” he seemed to need to take a few breaths before being able to finish his next thought. “I’d hate myself for not at least trying…” His eyes flickered over from you to the sofa quickly. His intentions are perfectly clear to you.

“You wanna fuck me Taehyung?” both eyebrows now raised in mock surprise. You knew he wanted to fuck you, you’d been putting on your best show and his erection could probably be seen from across the street.

He nodded slowly, setting his camera down on a nearby shelf and taking a step near you.

“You wanna fuck me baby?” He smirked at you, now stepping forward again, this time so close that his chest was pressed against your own.

One of his hands reached out and grabbed your side, pulling you close so that your hips were now pressed against him as well.

You breathed in sharply flashing him a quick smile as you took the next step, leaning in to him and pressing your lips to his.

He quickly brought a hand to the back of your head, moving his fingers gently through your hair as he gave you soft and shy kisses that somehow managed to turn deep and bold before you even realized what was happening. Much like a lot of how this man Taehyung behaved.

It was sexy, so fucking sexy how you couldn’t quite pin him down.

And that's where the thought popped into your head of how fun it would be to do just that, literally.

You pushed against him, using a grip on his hips to spin him around and throw him down onto the couch where you’d just been laying.

You stared down at him as he looked up at you with an animalistic look of pure lust in his eyes, a look that made your blood rush.

You climbed onto his lap facing him, setting a leg on each side of his hips. You didn't let your body make contact with his cock hard in his pants under you just to tease him.

"Do I want to fuck you?" You raised a brow as you placed a hand on his shoulder and ran it through his hair. His eyes stayed on you as if entranced by you. "What do you think? Do you think I would've put this lingerie on and let you take pictures of me to touch yourself to later if I didn't want to fuck you?"

"Fair enough" He muttered, eyes now fixation on your lips as his hands went to your hips that had yet to lower onto his.

Your lips drifted closer to his but before closing the distance you spoke again.

"I believe I asked if you wanted to fuck me first, it seems like you do."

"Oh god yes." His breathless whisper sounded like a plead.

You lowered your hips finally onto his clothed, hard cock as he leaned in to kiss you hungrily. His hands urged your hips to grind down onto his to try to gain some kind of pleasure for the both of you. The excitement felt wild to you, like two young strangers making out at a college party, a feeling you hadn't had since, well, college.

You abruptly got off of his lap and got to your feet and wordlessly walked off towards the cash register counter. You could already feel the damp lacy fabric beginning to stick to the inside of your thighs as you walked.

"Wait, where are you going? I thought we were going to…" He seemed utterly confused until you reached into the candy bowl full of condoms on the counter and held it up between your thumb and index finger to show him as you sauntered back over to him and took your former spot back on his lap.

"Gotta be safe, you know?" You threw the condom in the empty spot beside you before grinding back down on his still solid erection.

"Can- can I fuck you in- will you leave the lingerie on?" He seemed nervous about asking but the way his eyes stared at how good your cleavage looked in the bra and how sexy you felt in it made you agree.

"Sure, why not." You shrugged. "So," You leaned into his ear noticing the sharp but tantalizing scent of his cologne "You have a hot girl on your lap in sexy lingerie. What do you want to do to me Taehyung?"

He let out a moan that sounded more like a growl as you rubbed against his cock once more and placed a few slow kisses on his neck.

"Anything you'll let me do." You felt him squeeze your ass hard in his hands. "I want to cram every inch of my cock inside of you, baby. Would you like that? You want me to fuck you right here with all of these windows where anyone could walk by and see you taking my cock?"

What felt like adrenaline coursed through you as you grabbed his right arm and guided his hand until it touched the sticky material between your legs.

"Do you feel how wet I am just for you? Does that tell you how badly I want it? Put on the condom and fuck me." You demanded and scooted back so he could have space to do as you asked.

He scrambled to get his pants undone and down just enough for his stiff cock to be let loose.

Being the kind lady you were, you opened the condom wrapper and put it on for him before going back to your spot hovering over him, this time feeling him at your entrance as you pushed the thigh hole of your panties aside.

You took him but the shirt collar and pulled his face into yours, kissing him as you took him slowly inside of you.

He moaned against your lips as he kissed you back and took another hand full of your ass in his hand.

"Bounce." He demanded into your lips but you pulled away.

"Ask me nicely." You teased.

"Baby please bounce on my cock. Please let me see you fuck yourself on it."

You tightened your muscles around him and slowly began to move up and ram yourself down onto him hard. It felt so good that you wanted to speed up, but stopped yourself as you saw how much he seemed to be enjoying it.

"Oh fuck." He groaned as he threw his head back.

His dick fit so well inside of you, hitting all the right places inside of you every time you came back down on him, but it still wasn't enough and his deep moans were driving you crazy.

You stuck your hand down the front of the panties and began to rub fast circles on your clit.

When he noticed what you were doing he began to buck his hips up into you, using the grip on your ass to have your hips meet his harder and faster.

Now it almost felt too much for you, there was no holding in your impending orgasm or stopping it as it hit hard and fast. Each time he bucked up into you it sent wave after wave of bliss running through you leaving you gripping his shirt.

"Fuck you're so hot." He panted "gonna cum."

You bounced faster to not only drag out the last milliseconds of your orgasm but to also help him with his.

"You feel so fucking good Taehyung." You whined and that seemed to throw him over the edge. He quickly pulled out of you and you watched as he jerked himself hard and fast until his cum filled the condom. Heavy breathing was the only noise in the store for a moment as you both regained your composure.

“Damn.” Taehyung muttered, staring up at you, his body still slightly shaking as he came down from his high.

“Yeah.” You chuckled and shot him a large grin as you slid yourself sideways off of him and off of the couch. “Not bad.” you winked.

Taehyung laughed a single loud ‘ha’ and sat up, reaching out and tickling your side. “Not bad huh?” he smirked at you.

You flinched away at his touch giggling.

“I need to get the shop back open.” you had forgotten for a moment that you were still at work, rushing back to the changing room and throwing your clothes back on.

When you got back out onto the shop floor Taehyung was flipping through lingerie sets again, a couple in his hands now.

“I don’t think I can try on anymore.” you yelled out to him as you walked behind the counter after unlocking the front doors. “But bring up another set of the ones I had on. I don’t really know if the first set is really...sellable now.” you laughed, though your pockets hurt slightly, knowing you’d be buying that bra and panty set for yourself. At least you looked good in it.

Taehyung quietly looked for a few more minutes and returned to the counter with a total of four sets, mostly just variations of the ones you’d been wearing, just in different colors.

“Good picks.” you winked at him as you scanned them.

He smiled shyly at you as if he suddenly forgot how to talk to you.

He paid and you were putting the bras and panties in a bag when Taehyung finally spoke up again.

“Hey. Thanks. That was…” He smiled and shook his head to himself, already replaying the image of you riding him in his head.

“It really was.” You handed him the bag. “Thank you for shopping at Magic Desires.” you chimed in your best customer service voice.

“If you ever wanna…” he mumbled quietly, rummaging through his pockets. “If you ever wanna book a session with me here's my card.” he handed you a small white rectangle with Kim Taehyung and all of his information on it.

You smiled widely, imagining the trouble you could get into with him if you were to use this number to contact him again.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You winked at him biting down on your lower lip lightly.

He nodded nervously, leaning forward to go in for a kiss on your cheek, you leaned forward to receive it, giggling quietly and feeling your cheeks grow slightly hot right where his lips had met your skin.

He walked out the door without looking back at you.

You sighed and smiled to yourself, lingering butterflies in your stomach fluttered around wildly.

You watched him get into his car that was pulled up right in front of the window of the store. He shot over one last smile and pulled away.

There were a lot of phantom feelings of his hands on you, of being filled up by him. You spun around in a small circle and jumped back up on the counter.

You pulled out your phone and the card that Taehyung had given you and typed in the phone number on the card. You put “Photographer.” next to his name and saved the contact.

That could come in handy again later.

#taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts x you #v smut #v x reader #taehyung x you #bts fluff #taehyung fluff #bts fanfics #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #bts imagines #bts smut au

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frustratedpoetwrites · 4 years ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter Characters: James Potter, Lily Evans Potter Additional Tags: Morning After, Goodbyes, Sharing a Shower, reluctant goodbyes Series: Part 2 of The Marauders Pub Soho Summary:

The morning after a night of passion Lily has to leave a soundly sleeping James, but she doesn't want to.

Lily lay staring at the skylight, and watched the patch of sky turn from black to indigo. She just gazed without moving, hardly even blinking as it gradually grew lighter and lighter. She had not been able to find any rest for more than a few brief snatches, as tired as she was. Her whole body zinged with electricity, her brain abuzz with everything that had happened last night and had continued to happen throughout the night. She glanced over towards the body sleeping soundly beside her, the sheets pooled around his waist showing his toned back. He had acquired some new tattoos in the six years since she had last seen him. When she’d remarked on the delicately detailed Lily that was now inked on his right side sweeping across his ribs, he had quipped back that it marked the spot where she had stuck her knife in him when she’d left him to pursue her career. That remark had stung more than she wanted to admit, even though she did deserve it.

She had told him last night she never wanted to leave his side again, and she had meant it. Especially at that moment, standing in the bar he basically built, surrounded by the memories of their childhood. Engulfed by the overwhelming scent of James himself. At that moment it had been so easy to say yes to all of his questions, say yes to coming here to his place instead of going back to her hotel as she had planned. She wished she could stay in this moment, with the old day finished and the new not yet begun. In this bed with this man forever. But all too soon she would have to leave. She needed to get on a plane in a few hours. If she didn’t, then any dream she had to live in London permanently would be gone.

She glanced around James's attic room trying to see if he even had a clock. She was amazed that he still lived like this. There was a rail for his clothes and a bed so low it was almost like the mattress was on the floor. That was it. She hoped he didn’t live like this all the time, but she suspected his life and energy was spent at the bar.

It had looked so beautiful, the large dark polished oak panels and the brass rail, the small stage with the piano sitting proudly. And all the pictures on the walls of their schooldays. It had always been his dream to run a bar, and the four Marauders had made it a successful reality, but she knew who had been driving it from day one, and she was incredibly proud of him for that.

She reached for her clutch bag and fumbled in it for her phone. It did not light up when she tapped the screen. Her battery must have died.

Fuck.

She glanced over at James, still sleeping soundly, and contemplated waking him, but she knew he was exhausted. She had wiped him out, she thought to herself, suppressing a giggle, it had been a wonderful night. He had not forgotten any of the things he used to do to make her whole body hum, and he had learned a few new things too she had discovered. His strength and stamina had greatly increased. Not that she had expected him to hold himself chaste for her, but she still had a pang of jealousy at the thought that other women had touched him, had been with her James. Had they asked about his tattoo? She always thought of him as hers, even though she hadn’t exactly expected to ever come back to him that day she had left. Any time before now when she had considered it she talked herself out of it because she was convinced he would be with someone else.

She rolled over onto her back again, and looked up at the skylight.

What time was it?

She’d hoped she wouldn't have to do this but she slid off the edge of the bed and took James’s phone out of the pocket of his jeans and opened it, shaking her head at the stubborn distrust for technology that meant he still used an old flip phone. Although at the moment Lily was grateful because she didn’t have to worry about unlocking it.

She tapped in the digits for her assistant's number as she crept into his ensuite, slipping on the dressing gown that was on a hook behind the door.

The phone rang just once before she heard an unsure “Hello?”

“Hey, Jess it’s me…”

“Lily!” came the scream, causing her to jump and nearly drop the phone. “Where the fucking hell have you been? I’ve been calling you all night. Your meeting has been moved up, you need to get to the airport right now!”

“What? Oh, fuck!” Lily took a breath and closed her eyes as her assistant kept rambling over the phone, talking so fast Lily could hardly understand them. “Jess, Jess, Jessie!” She tried to speak urgently and sharply without making too much noise. “I need you to bring me my bag and my suit, the green one. Put an extra pair of underwear in my bag.”

“I’m sorry, Lily, but your overnight bag won’t be enough, I've had to pack your suitcase, you’ll be staying for a week. They’ve sent a whole itinerary, but when we left Hong Kong I didn’t think to pack any of your formal wear. I’ve arranged for the concierge to book a fitting for after your first meeting, once you’ve checked in. Where are you anyway? I need to let Terrence know where we need to come and get you.”

Lily went to answer then realised she had no actual idea of the address. It wasn’t far from the bar, she didn’t think. But she had been interested in other things besides looking out the car window to notice what neighbourhood they were in. Lily looked up as the door to the bathroom swung open gently, revealing a conscious James leaning against the frame wearing only his battered looking jeans, his tousled hair framing his tired-looking face and his glasses perching on the end of his nose, as if they were mere moments from falling off.

She let the phone fall from her ear slightly as he continued to stare at her, a wry smile reaching only the edge of his lips.

“Something tells me you aren’t staying for breakfast.” His tone was light but she heard the resignation behind it. As she looked over at her childhood sweetheart, an idea struck her.

“Jess? You still there? Pick me up outside the Marauders’ Pub in Soho. Yeah? And Jess? I'm gonna need another plane ticket.”

“Well, okay boss but they are sending you a priv…..” Lily did not hear the last of her assistant’s words as she closed the flip phone and tossed it back to him.

“I can't believe you still use that antique.” He caught it deftly in his left hand and dropped it into his back pocket.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you dick around with my life again,” he replied, barely even trying to mask the disappointment.

“As much as I'd love to have this argument again, I really need you to pack yourself a bag. Do you have a good suit that fits you?”

He shook his head and blinked at her as she brushed past him to his rail of clothes and started looking through them. He still had some nice attire here, a lot of it she remembered from their life before.

“Lily, wait,” he called after her but she took no notice. She had no time. Already, in her head, she was mapping out what she needed to do. A whole week with these people. The one day originally planned would have been torture, but this... If she had back up maybe she could make it work. “Stop.” He placed a hand on hers as it rested on the next coathanger. She looked up into his gorgeous eyes as they shone with all the colours as his emotions played out across his face. He was always so expressive. “What are you doing?”

“I want you to come with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? You’re your own boss, you could take the time off. It’s not like you’re the only one in charge. What about Sirius? Or Remus? Or even Pete?” She paused, “Is Pete doing okay? I thought he wanted to go in a, erm, different direction but I saw his name up there with the rest of you?”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Pete is a silent partner, he helps out when he can but his wife made him join their family business, he helps by keeping them away.” His hand dropped to his side. “Lily I can’t afford to just drop everything, everybody else has other responsibilities, I’m the only one left to run it and I won't let it fail. My staff depends on me.”

“James, this is me telling you I don’t want to leave you again. I don’t want to go on this trip without you by my side, I could use someone in my corner. I could also use a devilishly handsome, charming, charismatic–” he raised an eyebrow at her seductive tone but didn’t stop her putting her hands on his chest, tracing the antlers that spread across them.

“My tattoos aren’t very corporate,” he murmured, his voice sounding deep and throaty. she shrugged in reply,

“You’d be surprised what people hide under their suits these days.” She told him with a twinkle, sobering when his lips thinned. “Please James. I need you.” She hadn’t realised how true those words were until she had spoken them to the universe.

“I’m sorry Lily, but my staff need me more. They rely on me.”

“So you’ve never taken a day off? Never had to call in sick?” Before he could answer her questions an idea struck her. “What if I pay your staff for the week? How much would that be?” He stood for a moment apparently stunned then started laughing and stepped away from her, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She tried not to look upset at his reaction to her suggestion. She stood watching him and waited for his mirth to subside.

“Oh, you are actually serious? You want to pay me so I will spend time with you?” He shook his head as his mirth still rippled through him. “This isn’t Pretty Woman and I’m not some, some...rentboy you picked up off the street.”

Now he sounded angry. James’ phone started buzzing in his back pocket. She had not thought that offering to pay his staff would equate to her hiring him as an escort service. Her brain hadn’t gone that way at all. She let him answer his call, as she rushed back to the bathroom for a much needed shower and tried to clear her head.

James may have skimped on bedroom furniture but he hadn’t skimped on his wet room. The shower was a walk-in style and big enough for four people, the naturally textured tiles on her feet were warm as she walked in, the large slabs of highly polished sand-coloured stone on the walls were so neatly fitted she couldn’t even see the joins.

Turning on the shower filled the room with hot steam and the reassuring splats of water droplets peppering the tiles. Stepping into it, she gasped at the pressure. It was like standing in a tropical rainstorm. She just stood there unmoving, letting the water rush over her enjoying the sensation as it beat down on her head.

“That was your PA on the phone. I gave them this address so you can leave from here.” James said as he stepped into the bathroom like they did this kind of thing all the time. “Thought you might want to have some fresh clothes to wear.”

“You really won’t come?” She asked, trying one last time. She forced herself to keep her eyes forward when she realised he was joining her by the sound of his jeans hitting the tiled floor.

Despite their recent intimacy, or perhaps because of it, being this close to his naked body turned her core white-hot. She tried very hard not to react as she felt his naked skin brush up against hers. His arm reached past and grabbed an unlabelled metal bottle from the small alcove. Then his fingers were in her hair and her nostrils were filled with the scent of an English summer garden.

“Is it okay that I join you in here? Thought it would save some time.”

“Yes, okay, it’s absolutely fine,” she tried to keep her voice as neutral as his but even she could hear the breathiness.

“I told your assistant I can’t, it’s not my scene at all,” he told her conversationally, as if he wasn’t standing butt naked behind her in the shower. He was trying to calm her down, trying to talk about what needed to be talked about. The fact they were taking a shower together didn’t seem to phase him at all. Determinedly, she tried to follow his lead.

“This is not me running away from you. I need you to understand that.” She hummed in pleasure as his fingers massaged deeper into her hair. “I’m sorry if I offended you, offering to pay.”

“I’m still not sure if I find it more funny or offensive,” he began. “I can’t say I’m not tempted to run away with you, but you know as well as I do how much of a distraction I would be. You need to be at your best. I will be fine, I’ll just have to trust you’ll come back. That you're not making me the poor jilted lover once more.” He told her. She wanted to tell him he didn’t need to worry, wanted to say all the things that she had agonised about saying as she lay awake beside him in his bed, but no words could adequately explain how she was feeling. So she turned and reached for him, pushing her fingers up across his stubble studded cheeks into his hair and kissing him soundly. Breaking the kiss he tilted her head back as his lips dragged kisses across her throat. She didn’t need to ask where his mind was right now, she could feel his arousal pressing against her stomach. All too soon her brain caught up with her and soundly put on the brakes. “Not that I don’t enjoy where this is going, but we need to stop.” She took a few quick breaths as his hands continued to soap her breasts. “I don’t have the time and I’m a little tender.”

“You were the one who started things, Evans. I was just helping you wash,” he said innocently, amusement dancing in his eyes. But he did take his hands off her body and even though she had asked him to, she mourned the loss of contact. “In all honesty, I don’t think I have it in me right now to perform at my best anyway.”

“Let’s just put this on pause for now then shall we?” She told him, giving him a gentle kiss, hoping he understood how much he continued to mean to her. Lily dipped her head to rinse the bubbles out of her hair. It felt like silk as she combed her fingers through it.

“What is that shampoo? It’s amazing!”

“It’s a prototype. Remus’ company makes it, the only thing that’s come close to making my hair behave. He’s made it his personal mission to tame it. He gives me a new formula just about every week.” He pointed to the small bathroom cabinet above the sink. “The conditioner’s in there, it's one you have to leave in. I put towels on the hook.” She stepped aside once she was rinsed, letting him have the full force of the shower.

“Does he always make it smell like flowers?”

“Yup.” She expected him to elaborate but when he didn’t she just let it go and stepped out of the shower. She found the small spray bottle in the cabinet simply labelled conditioner and scrunched some into her hair as she watched James wash his. The bubbles slid down his frame in ways that made her wish she could just step back in there with him.

Lily wished she could continue to stare at him but her logical brain was kicking in to tell her all that she still had to do. Moving back to the bedroom, she twisted her hair up out of the way while she looked for anywhere he would store things. There wasn’t even a cupboard in the bedroom so she padded her way through to the living space. She barely remembered it from the night before, and she was stunned at how minimally he lived.

It was a beautiful apartment, the exposed red brick looked amazing with the warm honey-coloured wooden floor. The living space was a good size for London, the kitchen looked brand new with a wooden worktop that matched the floor and clean white cupboards. She spotted the coffee machine, and hunted in the cupboards to see if he had any beans, suppressing her irritation when every one was empty.

The more she looked around his place, the less it felt like he lived here at all. There was a giant modular brown leather sofa taking up the majority of space in the living area, a coffee table that looked like it was made out of granite, and a giant tv on the wall.

“What is this place to you James Potter?” She mused as she looked around. She was tempted to start rummaging in drawers (if there were any) but it felt like possibly a step too far for now.

The intercom buzzed impatiently making her jump guiltily and nearly drop her towel. As she stared at the white box on the wall and wondered how to operate it James came striding out of the bedroom holding a hand towel around his waist, hair still dripping. He lifted the receiver then buzzed to let the person come up. “It’s your assistant.” He explained before vanishing back to the bedroom.

Lily stood looking through the peephole until she saw her assistant's blonde head appear from the stairs.

She opened the door and ushered them in quickly. Taking the bag from them awkwardly with one hand.

Jessie looked around and hummed appreciatively. “This is nice, you could do a lot with this place. When are they moving in?”

“I don’t know,” Lily replied quietly. “I’m going to go change. Can you play nice with James, please? It would be great if you two get on.”

“Well I’ll behave if he will,” Jessie swept an invisible strand of hair out their face before relenting to Lily’s reproachful look. “Alright, alright. When we spoke on the phone they were pleasant so I can be too.”

“Great, I’ll be super quick,” as she made her way back into the bedroom James stepped out wearing that same pair of jeans he seemed incredibly fond of and one of his many black Marauders Pub t-shirts. He put out a hand to stop her as she tried to slip past him.

“I’m going to get out of your hair,” he said quietly. She could tell by the tone he didn’t want to be here when she left, didn’t want to be the one left waving by the door. She understood that in an instant, saw it in his sad eyes, and the hesitant touch he placed on her arm.

“Okay.” With a glance at her assistant she walked him back into the bedroom. “This was not how I wanted this to go,” she said, keeping her voice down once she knew they were alone.

“Saying goodbye brings back bad memories,” he told her shuffling his feet and running a hand through his hair. “I want to believe you're coming back this time.”

“Of course I’m coming back. I’ll call you, every day. But could you do something for me?” She asked, reaching to snake her arms around his neck.

“Can you get yourself a new phone so we can video chat?”

“Yes, Evans I think I can manage that,” he told her, leaning down to kiss her goodbye for the last time.

#jily #james potter #lily evans #barman james #business boss lily #tj writes #jily fanfiction #jily fic #slightly mature #there is a shower scene #but no smut

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rpd-rookie · 4 years ago

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Pollen - Chris Redfield x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Summary: A new type of mutamycete has been discovered in a remote region of South America. As a scientist working for Blue Umbrella, you are sent along with BSAA Captain Chris Redfield and his team to conduct research on it. Unfortunately, everything goes to hell when the infection goes out of control and start contaminating the unit ...

Author’s Notes: This is a request sent by the Queen of Headcanons (@missmamacitaoliveira). It is basically porn with a plot and I chose to characterise it as "mild dub!con" because the sexual interaction depicted in this one shot is definitely the result of an arousal both characters (Chris and Reader) experience because of the mutamycete that contaminated them. Consent is given but the sexual act in itself is still a mix of fear and lustfulness at least at the beginning of it. Read at your own risk.

Warning: Sex Pollen / Smut / Mildly Dubious Consent / Rough Sex / Masturbation / Language

Golden spore-like particles were beautifully floating and dancing in the air outside the sterile plastic tent, shining like millions of innocent little fireflies but killing like a deadly swarm of wasps. They were covering the surrounding forest in yellow, from the trunks of the trees up to their tops, rotting the bark and the leaves, turning them into a thick yellowish mold capable of liquefying even the most solid of steels. A one-of-a-kind fascinating spectacle you had never thought to witness one day. Incredible – yet scary - what this new type of fungus was capable of doing.

Your earpiece crackled loudly in your ear, making you grimace and you dropped your leather notebook on your desk. “We’ve …sot … bit of sit…tion.” was all you could make out, the words sounding like gibberish because of the permanent interferences caused by the large cloud of mutamycete that had spread and contaminated the ambient air and the flora in the forest area by the riverside. “What kind of situation?” You asked, already removing a white Hazmat suit from a hanger. A never-ending sizzling was buzzing in your ear now, making it impossible to ear whoever was trying to communicate with you. “Hello?” You said as you adjusted the device to restore the communication. But all of a sudden, some static electricity – probably generated by the interferences - fried your earpiece in your ear, making you squeal in pain and fear and troubling your vision for a second. “Shit.” You cursed as your threw the broken earpiece to the ground, a low buzzing echoing in your head. “Why does it always happen to me?” You quickly slipped on the rubber suit, put on some chemical overshoe boots and grabbed Umbrella’s latest air-filter helmet before heading towards the exit. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to wander outside for too long as an officer rushed towards you, pointing at the military green tent that happened to belong to the medical unit that accompanied you on this mission. “Hurry, please.” He said with an alarmed voice that sent shivers down your spine. Something was definitely wrong.

You ungraciously followed him to the tent, your uncomfortable get-up making it hard for you to run properly. After all, it was made to work in a lab, not play commando in a remote tropical region of South America. Once in there, you immediately noticed two soldiers convulsing hard on their medical beds, struggling to breathe in spite of the oxygen the mechanical ventilators were providing them. Their faces were bright red, covered with pustules and blisters; their skin peeling off as if some acid had splashed on them. “What happened?” You dared ask, your widened eyes staring in shock at the poor men whose painful screams where muffled by the masks covering their melting faces. “Unsuitable gear. Thank your corporate overlords for that.” You glanced at the man who had answered, recognizing the angry powerful husky voice in spite of the deformation caused by the gas helmet he was wearing. “Captain Redfield, I’m sure…” He waved you to shut up and you obeyed, knowing that now was not the time to start an argument with him. It would not end up well, Redfield being too impulsive and stubborn to have a calm conversation with you even in more peaceful circumstances. His reluctance to work with Umbrella Co., you supposed. “How can I help?” “You’ve been studying this new mold, haven’t you?” Chris asked as he rushed to immobilise one of his men to allow a medic to sedate him with a syringe of morphine. “Might care to explain what’s happening?” “I’ve only studied the infection on the nearby vegetation. I don’t know what’s happening to them.” You mumbled, trying to keep your composure and ignore your growing concern and panic caused by the gut-churning vision before you. “Just tell what you know!” Chris growled as he pinned his struggling teammate down on the white mattress with an incredible strength you found scarily impressive. “It’s basically the same mutamycete that we collected at the Baker’s except that it was somehow genetically modified to have a reproductive morphology similar to plants and flowers. That’s why it looks so much like pollen.” “Make it understandable for a 5 years old, Y/LN, please.” Chris demanded with an annoyed sigh and you nodded though you didn’t really know how explain days and days of complex scientific research in a few simple sentences. “Alright. The previous mutamycete permitted to turn dead people into Molded, sort of. This new version does the same but it can also reproduce … breed if you prefer. A simple contact with a compatible host can lead to fecundation that can ultimately lead to lots of Molded babies. But I don’t need to develop that part, do I? Everyone in this tent knows how to make babies, I believe.” You scoffed, finding a certain comfort and some safety in sarcasm. But now was not the time for humour and you understood it perfectly when Captain Redfield glared at you. “Sorry. I tend to make bad jokes when I freak out.” And you were definitely freaking out right now. “But to sum up, this new mutamycete basically mimics the primary instinct of a G- virus infectee.” “Meaning?” Chris asked, his voice sounding an octave lower certainly because of the knot in his throat the simple mention of the G-virus had created. “It basically has a vital need to procreate, relentlessly searching for the right host to fecundate.” “So you’re saying that my men are what … pregnant with Molded?” He frowned and you could hear all his worries in his voice. He genuinely cared about his men. Very admirable and honourable. “I don’t know, Captain. I’m just telling you how it works on plants. Might be different for humans… I hope. Do you have an ultrasound scanner?” “ No, but we have one at the lab.” The doctor said. “ Then we need to evacuate quickly. And I …” You took some surgical pliers from a medical trolley and a test tube from your pocket. “…am going to need a sample to study all this.”

You approached one of the soldiers who was now basically dozing because of the morphine and slowly removed one of his gloves to cut one of his nails in order to later study his DNA. But as soon as your fingers touched him, he woke up with a start and jumped you, growling like a beast and grabbing you by the waist with a superhuman strength, almost digging his nails in your flesh through your clothes. You first instinct was to scream. Not the most efficient thing to do, you agreed. But, fortunately for you, you were accompanied by men who had better first instincts and reflexes than you. Chris pushed his man away from you and pounced on him, grabbing him almost brutally by the wrists to slam him down against the bed. You put a hand over your pounding heart and stared, terrified and powerless, at the enraged man squirming to get up. His eyes were dark and hungry and fixed upon you as if he was unable to focus his attention on anything else. “What the fuck, Carter?” Chris roared as he used all his weight to keep his soldier in place. But Carter didn’t care. Carter didn’t even look human anymore. And watching those two men struggling on this bed was like watching two lions fighting on National Geographic. Except that it was terrifying. Fucking terrifying.

Twenty-four hours later, Carter and his teammate were dead and their bodies still burning up like hot ember had been placed in the morgue section of the lab for you and your colleagues to study. But, in spite of the disgusting bloody experiments you led on them, you couldn’t take your mind out of the near-death experience you had been through at the camp. It haunted you, making it almost impossible for you to focus exclusively on your work. Those eyes. That darkness in them. That hunger that looked more and more sexual and lustful the more you thought about it. It was making you shiver in fear and discomfort. You had never seen anything like it before. You shook your head to make the images go away and concentrated again on your researches. You had been studying fours little rats in a glass cage for hours, trying to see how their systems reacted to the new mutamycete. But for now, six hours after injection, only an unusual high body temperature could be noticed.

The automatic sliding door of your lab opened with a hiss, making you slightly jump. You briefly checked the clock on the wall. 10:38pm. You didn’t expect any visit that late especially not a visit from Chris Redfield. “Captain Redfield. What are you doing … here?” You furrowed, staring at him with concern. He didn’t look so well. “Something’s happening to me.” His voice was cavernous and raspy and he sounded almost out of breath as if he was chocking under his black turtle neck. You immediately got up, resisting the instinctive urge to come closer to check up on him and took a few steps back. “Alright. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong and I’ll see what …” You weren’t able to finish your sentence as Chris crumbled to the floor beneath him, growling as if he was trying to resist something, his nails dug in the grooves of the white tiles. “Oh my god, Chris.” “I feel like I’m burning up.” He struggled to say. And this time you rushed towards him. You couldn’t leave him like that. You had to do something.

Knelt onto the floor, you grabbed his broad shoulders to help him lean his back against a lab bench. His face was scarlet red and pearls of sweat were dripping along his forehead. You wiped them away with your sleeve. They felt weirdly sticky and had a strange sour smell. But what worried you the most was the heat radiating from Chris’s body. You could feel it brushing your face. It looked like the man had been microwaved. “Don’t move. I’ll call for help.” You tried to get up but Chris’ hand caught your arm in a firm strong grip that made you wince. “You don’t… understand.” He managed to say, panting, his extremely dilated brown eyes staring at your (colour) confused ones.

Without forewarning, he placed your hand over his crotch, a gesture you found disgusting, salacious and incredibly inappropriate and that instinctively made you squeal and try to get away from Chris’ grasp. He was incredibly hard. “What the fuck?” You gasped, horrified as you tried to quickly get up. But you lost your balance and clumsily fell on your rear. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.” He confessed, suffocating. “I’ve been like this for the past hour or so.” “The past hour?” You repeated, not knowing how to react or what to do. “Please tell me you can do something.” Chris begged, truly shamed and panicked and perfectly aware of the how indecent and degrading his behaviour must feel to you. You stood up to focus on your breathing and regain your calm. “Okay. Everything’s going to be fine. Breathe.” You needed to have your mind clear if you wanted to help Chris. You needed your scientist mind back. “Are you … aroused?” You said, genuinely uncomfortable to ask something so intimate. “Fuck, Y/LN!” Chris growled, glancing down at his pants. “ Isn’t it obvious? I’m freaking hard!” “Clearly.” You cleared your throat. “Don’t move.” You rushed towards your cupboard to rummage in it. “I’m going to give you GnRH antagonists. They can suppress hormones like testosterone. It should ease your pain for a while, or at least long enough to be able to find something that might help you. It’s possibly an effect linked to a long exposure to the mutamycete. Got you.” You took the vial with your trembling hands and turned around to go back to Chris. But what you didn’t realised was that Chris was just right behind you.

You bumped into his large chest and accidentally dropped the vial onto the floor. It broke into a thousand pieces as it landed on the tiles and you cursed, internally blaming yourself for your stupid clumsiness and your panic. “Please don’t tell me that’s what I needed.” You grimaced, scared to tell him the truth as you could tell he was getting angry again. Then again, who wouldn’t? “There might be another way.” You tried to reassure him but you knew it was vain. “Another way?” He harrumphed with a growl of pain as he leaned against your desk to breathe deeply. “What way?” “ Well, have you tried to … you know…” You mimicked a pumping motion with your hand, not daring to say the word. “Masturbate?” “You’re serious?” Chris’ darkened eyes widened, refusing to believe you were actually serious. “This is your medical advice? You want me to jerk off!” “Yes, that’s what I want … I mean advise.” You corrected, probably as uncomfortable than him right now, if not more. “Are you guys at Umbrella all dumb or is it just you? I don’t even know how I still can walk, Y/LN. I’ve never been that sensitive in my entire life. I feel like if I touch myself I will actually explode, like literally. I can’t jerk off right now!”

There was an awkward silence that didn’t last long as Chris turned around to shout his suffering again. Though this time it was mixed with an animalistic rage whose cause was still blurry to you. Was it mad at you? At himself? At his condition? At Umbrella? … All of it? You sighed and approached him. Hands on his back you helped him face you. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this.” You told yourself.

You put your hand over Chris’ male parts, making him wince and hiss, to blindly look for the zipper, staring away from him on purpose. “What the fuck are you doing?” He asked, slapping your hand away from him. “You got a better idea, soldier boy?!” You retorted, wishing there was another solution and that this all situation was merely a nightmare. You opened Chris’ trousers and disgustedly slid your hand in his briefs. “Ouch, easy!” He grumbled the second your fingertips touched him. His member was so sensitive and aching right now. “This is the worse day of my life.” You admitted as you delicately took his hot swelling length, which was thicker and heavier than what you expected, in a limp grip. “Pff. I’m sure part of you enjoys it” Chris said in between two guttural moans, a sensation of both suffering and pleasure tensing his abs and clenching his jaw. “You must think it is karma for all the times I’ve been an ass to you.” “What?” You harrumphed as you stopped moving your hand, genuinely offended. “How can you believe I’m enjoying it? You’re sick.” “Then why are you all flushed?” He asked.

All this panic and concern for Chris had made forget about your safety and yourself in general. You touched your cheeks. They were abnormally hot and you could feel their sudden redness tickling your skin. “Embarrassment and panic.” You retorted, trying to convince yourself more than Chris. After all, wasn’t it the most plausible reason? Unless… “Or the mutamycete and in that case it’s all your fault and if I die I’ll come and kill you.” You started panting and Chris stared at you silently. “What? You think that masturbating you arouses me? Pff, you should know better than anyone right now what it means to be aroused.” “Y/N” He called out by your first name. He had never done that before. “What?!” You screamed, pissed at him. “Shut the fuck up and keep going.” He ordered with a severity worthy of his military status. “Seriously?” He didn’t reply, seeing no need for an answer, and you reluctantly resumed your soft motion on his engorged cock, feeling the prominent thick veins throbbing against your palm as Chris suddenly began removing his military vest and his turtleneck “Are you kidding me?” You mumbled in between your teeth, definitely not liking this situation. “I’m burning up. I can’t stand my clothes anymore.” But soon your eyes occasionally started glancing towards Chris’ broad and hairy chest. He had a formidable body. God, what the hell were you thinking? “Please tell me you’re gonna cum soon.” You begged but he didn’t respond. A bad sign. “Gosh, I must be doomed.” “Perhaps if you actually put some effort in it.” Your eyes widened at him. Was it really criticizing the way you were jerking him off? “Seriously, Mister ‘Ouch I’m too sensitive’?” “Don’t mind me. I get it. You’d rather do something else than help me right now. And I know this must feel very degrading. Well guess what? I’d rather do something else than being jerked off by you.” You stepped back. You had had enough of it. “Then go ahead.” You waved at the door. “Leave and get out of your bloody mess on your own. I don’t give a fuck. Actually you should have done that from the very beginning instead of coming to me. Why did you come here anyway?” “I have no fucking idea, Y/N. I was in my quarters and seconds later I was here. I can’t explain it. I was like … guided here. ” You frowned, finding this honest confession extremely weird and yet not so absurd, your scientific brain making a parallel between Chris’s words and the way the mutamycete was permanently searching for a host to breed. The conclusion that Chris might want the same thing froze you to the spot, scared and apprehensive, a bit like a deer caught in headlights. Why hadn’t you thought about that earlier? “And the more I look at you, the more I stay with you… I wanna fuck you so bad. And I hate myself for it.”

You gulped, finding yourself unable to regain control over your paralysed body as an instantaneous wet hotness formed in between your legs. You tried to repress it but Chris came closer, his darkened chocolate brown eyes staring at you the same way Agent Carter’s eyes had stared at you under that tent. It made you shake, expecting with a certain amount of fear what was bound to happen. “Fuck! You have no fucking idea how hard it is to resist the urge to just slam you against that desk and shove my cock into you.” Your heart skipped a bit and the air got stuck in your lungs. You couldn’t breathe anymore. Terrified and yet so atrociously aroused it was making you want to hurl. A strange sensation – certainly a result of the contamination - you had never experienced in your entire life and you didn’t know how to process. “I’m calling security.” You announced as you somehow managed to rush towards your desk. “They’re going to place you under quarantine. That’s what I should have done from the very beginning.” You tried to seize your phone but it was immediately taken away from away from you and thrown across the room before you could even push a single button.

You trembled again when you suddenly felt Chris’s towering body press against your back, his hardened member pushing against your butt as his muscular arms were forming a caging embrace to prevent you from escaping. “Then why haven’t you?” He whispered in you ear, his hot breath tickling your neck and making you shiver, this time more in arousal than in fear. “I don’t know.” You mumbled in a whisper, feeling your heart pounding like crazy in your chest because of the exquisite proximity between Chris’ strong body and yours. This was insane.

You moaned when you felt Chris softly grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin of your neck and then gasped with a certain apprehension when his large hand grabbed your throat to squeeze it, knowing he could choke you to death with ease right now without giving you a chance to fight back. “Tell me you want this.” He murmured, rubbing his pelvis against your rear hoping teasing you would convince you to give in to him. “I won’t touch you unless you want me to. But please, please, tell me you want me to.” You looked back at him to stare at his eyes. In their hungry darkness, you could notice that Chris was still in there, spotting his integrity slightly gleaming behind the veiled pupils. He was fighting the temptation caused by this stupid fungus. But how long could he resist? Or better question, how long could you resist judging by the wetness growing in your panties. The answer? Not long.

“Do it.” You whispered so low, hoping he would not hear you and let go of you. But he did hear you and he didn’t wait. He pulled your skirt up to your waist and ripped your panties with a swift powerful motion that made you squeal and hold on tight to your desk. “I don’t think it’ll take long.” Chris said with a raspy voice as he dropped his trousers and briefs to his feet, finally freeing his throbbing cock that sprang erected and hard as a stone pillar. He watched it for a second, admiring it twitching and begging to be relieved. Then he stared at you, at your naked butt and your glistening red lips. “Gosh, you look delicious.” He said to himself before spitting on his finger to lube his length. Last thing he wanted was to hurt you. “You’re sure you’re up for this?” He asked again, not knowing how he would react if you said no. “I’m sure. Just fuck me, please.” You whimpered and Chris smiled as he guided himself towards your entrance. He moved briefly in between your half-closed thighs, right against your tight lips, to spread your juices along his shaft before kicking your calves to make you spread your legs for him. Once the access granted, he finally pushed himself deep into you, sliding him member so deep it almost disappeared in you. You winced and moaned, nails dug in the wood of the desk, when you felt him stretching you, definitely not used to welcome such girth inside your pussy. “Holy shit.” You cursed, with a small tear in the corner of your eye. “You’re so big.” “I know. Sorry.” He chuckled, his hand wandering down your back. “You’ll get used to it.” You cried out when Chris suddenly pulled out to push himself back inside of you with one single hard move. The force of his thrust made you fall flat on the desk. “You got nothing against rough sex, right baby girl?” Baby girl? The pet name made you furrow. What was next? You calling him daddy? “Cause I’m in that kind of mood right now.” He growled as he repeated the same motion, making you muffle a new loud moan in the leather notebook on which your head was resting. “Let’s get this over with.” You growled, already breathless.

Chris’ pelvis smacked loudly against your ass, making it bounce, as his heavy balls hit your swollen clit. “Fuck!” You shouted, hating the sensation as much as you were liking it. And he did this over and over. With time, you grew accustomed to the brutality and even happened to find a blissful pleasure in his roughness. Hell, you could even hear how wet your pussy was. “You like that? You want it faster?” You nodded and he grabbed your hips to pull you even closer to him and started relentlessly pounding you from behind. You screamed his name, wondering how he could still be that rough and yet that fast. His cock was literally a jackhammer hitting you hard inside, not that you minded. “Yes, just like that.” You said as you brought your fingers to your swollen clit. “Do you want to cum already?” You heard the cheekiness in his voice. He was amused. “Aren’t you the one who said it wouldn’t last long?” You retorted with a mocking smile that he definitely noticed in the tone of your voice since he grasped a handful of your hair to pull you back against his chest. “You’re going to regret this tone, young lady.” He bit your lips, making you almost bleed and kissed you with a hunger and a ferocious passion that would certainly let your lips bruised for days.

And as he did, his fingers crawled towards the buttons of your white shirt to violently tear the clothe apart, reducing it to rags and making the small metallic buttons fly in the lab. “Let me see those boobs.” Chris ordered as his hands squeezed your breasts, feeling the hard nipples pointing through your laced bra that he ultimately removed with the same burning ardour he had shown while removing your shirt. “So perky and pretty.” He confessed in a whisper as he pinched the rosy teats between his fingers. “Do you like them?” You asked, biting your sored lips “More than I like you. That’s for sure.” The rebuke made you sourly laugh. “I don’t like you either.” “Good.” He turned you over to face him and pushed you against your desk to make you sit on it, throwing all your stuff to the ground before laying you down on it. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist but that’s apparently not what Chris wanted as he put both your feet above his left shoulder with a grunt. “And don’t move.” He commanded and his hand slapped your breasts. They reddened almost instantly but the overall sensation was exhilarating, making you clenched your walls around Chris’s cock. “Fuck, don’t squeeze me like that.” He complained and you chuckled. But your laugh was brief since Chris caught you by your legs again and resumed his previous pounding.

You head tilted to the side and a stream of OHs and AHs escaped your mouth. You were completely at Chris’ mercy, lost in an intense bliss that made you completely unaware of the world around you. There was only pleasure. Pleasure and Chris. You toes went to feel Chris’ muscular pectorals, curling up more and more by the second. “I think I’m gonna cum.” You confessed with half-lidded eyes that you could barely keep open now. “Yeah?” You nodded. “You want me to help you?” “Please.” You whined, desperately wanting to let the ticking bomb of pleasure between your legs explode. “Alright then.” His arms circled your waist and he hoisted you up against his chest with an incredible ease. You were certainly very light for a man as strong as Chris. His small dark hair tickled your breasts, making you shiver and you wrapped your legs against him as well as your arms around his neck. You could feel it still inside of you and you were waiting eagerly to se how he would manage fucking you in that position which was far from easy. “Hold on tight.” He announced as he squeezed your ass to make you slide up and down his penis. The first moves were sloppy and clumsy but what followed drove you back in intense delight. The perks of being fucked by a man who had definitely been spoiled by Mother Nature.

Your body perfectly angled against Chris’, hands now holding on tight to his large shoulders, you could feel your clit rub atrociously well against the bush surrounding his member that your pussy had excessively creamed. “Chris. I’m cumming.” You shut your eyes and cradled against his body to keep yourself in place when the exhilarating moment you had been longing for finally happened. You shouted so loud as you clenched your walls against Chris’s cock you wondered how no one rushed in your lab to see what was happening in there. “That’s it baby girl. Cum for me.” Chris hissed, his mind split between your pussy squeezing him tightly and your nails scratching his shoulders to the blood. “Fuck, Chris!” Your climax knocked you out, rendering you dizzy and limp, and you let yourself slump against Chris, head over his shoulder. “Alright time to truly finish this.” He chuckled and knelt to the floor where he laid you hot body on the tiles. The coldness made you tremble but you were too giddy and tired to mind. Nevertheless, you sensed Chris lie on top of you, his massive body sprawled over yours almost crushing it under his weight.

His shaft found his way back in your relaxed pussy and he weaved his hand in your soft hair to pound you for the last time. Only soft almost soundless moans escaped your mouth but you could tell that the effect of your powerful orgasm was slowly fading away as your energy was slowly growing back and regaining your limbs. “I’m gonna cum in you.” This was a terrible idea, risky even, and you knew it. But you didn’t know how – or didn’t want – to fight back, actually desiring to feel Chris’s hot sperm spurt inside of you. So instinctively, you managed to circle his waist with your legs and spur his hard rear to make him go deeper inside of you. “Eager girl. You want to take my cum so bad, don’t you?” He scoffed and kissed your lips hard as he pinned your wrists up your head to finally release his sticky white seed in your vagina with a guttural animalistic grunt that echoed in the lab. “Take it.” He growled as he kept pushing himself hard inside of you to be sure not to waist a single drop of his semen.

Chris pulled out of you and gazed at you glistening red pussy, glad to see that his cum was not oozing out of you. “That felt so good.” He admitted before allowing himself to fall next to you with a sigh of content and enjoy the coldness of the tiles against his sweaty body. “And you know what? I actually feel a lot better.” You didn’t answer, exhausted but more especially lost in your thoughts. Gosh, what have you done? “You’re alright?” Chris asked, his voice finally back to normal. You glanced at him and noticed even his eyes had found their sweet chocolate colour back. “ Y/N” Your name echoed in your head and you suddenly got the impression that your body was abnormally convulsing. “Y/LN! Y/N” Chris repeated as he urged to hold you. “Y/LN. Hello?” You felt your mind slowly dozing off, finding yourself unable to answer. What the hell was happening? That was the last thing that came to your mind before it completely shut off. Then everything went dark and only Chris’ voice calling your name remained. “Y/LN! Open your eyes. Wake up!”

You woke up with a start, lost and wondering where you were, your startled eyes scanning your surroundings in search of something familiar. It took you a couple of seconds to realise you were laying on the ground and that you actually were in your tent, a the camp. “Y/LN” Your eyes met Chris’. He was staring at you with concern, his hands firmly holding your shoulders. “You’re alright?” You stared at him, still very astonished and then, you spontaneously jumped in his arms. “Chris! You’re okay!” The relief in your voice made Chis frowned and he slowly pushed you away. “Yes. You?” You nodded with a smile. “So it was a dream?” You asked, expecting an answer from Chris which was completely absurd. “A dream?” He repeated. “Are you sure you’re okay? Did you bump your head or something? Hurt yourself?” “No.” You shook your head, not getting why he looked so worried. “But your ear.” He pointed at it, not daring to touch it and you brought your fingertips to it. A thick liquid was pouring out of it. It was pus and blood. You were bleeding. Why were you bleeding? “What the fuck?” You looked around you only to spot the fried earpiece on the ground next to you. The interferences. The static electricity. It had certainly burst your eardrum and made you faint and … “It was all a dream.”

#chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #resident evil #one shot

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