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imaginedisish · 5 months ago

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Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: This took way longer than expected, and I also sort of got carried away...Hope it still lives up to the requester's expectations (I also saw that the anon asked for fluff...and this ended up being fluff and smut...hope that's okay). Def some errors...I only proofread twice. This one is also inspired by "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby" by Cigarettes After Sex. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan's kindness towards you is strictly friendly. Until it's not just friendly anymore...

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI! Unprotected PIV, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms (uh, they're outside...), grumpy!Logan, cursing, major angst, comfort, fluff, references to canon typical violence/death/conflicts, f!reader/afab!reader (reader has hair at the nape of her neck but no description of length/texture/color), mutant!reader, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,662 my back hurts

It had been a long day. Every day was a long day. There were the kids to worry about, and then there was the rest of the world. There’s a war coming, you see it everywhere you look, and hear it everywhere you go. The news. The papers. The kids whispering in hushed echoes late at night when you’re walking the halls sleeplessly. You don’t want a war. You want a life.

The mansion is still bustling—it always is—but it’s slowly winding down. You listen as kids walk up the stairs in waves, heading into their bedrooms for the night. You know you should too, but you like it when the mansion gets quiet. You like knowing that everyone is safe, tucked away. You like it when no one else is around—when you can be alone, the stillness and quiet of a dark and sleeping house cradling you like a mother.

You find yourself in one of the living rooms, the T.V. still on, playing reruns of a cartoon you recognize from years ago. You smile as laughter erupts from down the hall, the padding of small feet echoing along the floorboards and the sound of much heavier boots following close behind.

“Hey! Watch it!” A grumpy, familiar voice shouts as kids run past the doorway to the living room, giggling mischievously. “Fucking kids.” You turn towards the sound of Logan’s voice as it bounces off the walls, his frame entering the doorway.

He has a plate of cookies in one hand and a glass of milk in the other as he strides over to you.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, smiling up at him. He’s in his beater and his jeans and that leather jacket that hugs him just the right way. You try not to think about how good he looks as he places the plate and the glass down on the coffee table in front of you. Friends don’t think about friends like that, and that’s all you two are: friends.

“Thought you might want a snack,” he mumbles, pointing to the cookies. “And maybe someone to talk to. You’ve got that look on your face.”

You roll your eyes, staring at him incredulously. “What look?”

“That sleepy, stressed face you make,” he starts, walking around the coffee table and taking the spot on the couch right next to you. “When you’re listening to everyone, making sure they’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching for a cookie. Logan sits up and grabs the glass of milk, extending it out to you. “Really, I am,” you promise, but you know he can tell that you’re lying.

You take the glass from him, and his hand falls to your thigh. The feeling of his skin against yours is intoxicating. He works his jaw and opens his mouth. “What’s going on—”

“Logan?” Storm cuts him off, standing in the doorway. Her gaze is focused on Logan’s hand resting on your thigh. “Did you make tea?”

His eyes flicker between you and Storm. You tilt your head, waiting for his response. “Yes,” he answers, his hand lifting from your thigh as he stands. The spot is suddenly cold. You want to grab his hand and yank him back down.

“Well, the water is about to boil,” she says, smirking as the kettle begins to whistle.

Logan mutters a quick shit under his breath as he prowls out of the living room and down the hall to the kitchen. Storm giggles as she watches him, shaking her head. She squints at the cookies and milk, and then at you. You nervously place the milk back down on the coffee table.

“Wow,” is all she says, her arms crossing her chest as she leans against the frame of the doorway. You can hear Logan shuffling around the kitchen, closing cabinets and cursing. “All this for you, huh?”

Your jaw drops just a bit at her words, their meaning instantly smacking you in the face. “O-oh, no,” you stutter defensively. “It’s not like that.”

The conversation quickly ends as Logan walks into the living room with a cup of tea, passing Storm and heading to the couch. He sits down next to you and places the tea in front of you. The tag of the tea bag hangs over the side of the mug, steam wafting off the top.

“You like tea, right?” He asks as you lean over and grab the warm mug in your hands. The heat feels good, but not as good as when his hand was on your thigh.

You nod, swallowing those feelings down as you blow into the cup to cool the hot liquid inside. “Thanks, Logan.” You smile, and he smiles back.

Storm is still in the doorway, a soft laugh stuck in her throat. “I’ll leave you two alone.” And before you can protest, she’s gone, her heels clicking down the hardwood floors of the hallway.

Alone now with Logan, you can’t help but feel nervous. You bring the mug to your lips and finally take a sip, the hot tea dripping down your throat. Was Storm right? No. This is just a friend looking out for a friend. There’s no deeper meaning. So what if Logan brought you cookies and milk? So what if he made tea for you? He’s just being nice, kind, caring. That’s what he always is…to you at least. Maybe only to you—

“Hey, everything okay?” Logan’s voice yanks you back to reality, his palm suddenly warm on your thigh again. You jump at the sensation, accidentally spilling tea on Logan’s hand and all over your thighs.

“Shit,” you mutter, the liquid stinging just a bit against your bare skin. “I’m so sorry,” you say, placing the cup down on the coffee table. When you look back up, Logan is gone. You can hear scuffling in the kitchen again, drawers opening and slamming closed.

“What the fuck are you doing, Logan?” Scott’s voice chastises in the distance.

Logan scoffs, his footsteps echoing against the tile floors. “Fuck off, Summers,” he chides, and you can’t help but laugh at their bickering.

“Think that’s funny?” Logan teases, suddenly in front of you. He rushes over, kneeling next to you. He has a towel in his hand. “You okay?” He asks. “Anything hurt?”

You shake your head from side to side. “Nope, all good,” you say, grinning, ready for him to pass you the towel. But he doesn’t—he’s cleaning you up himself.

He rubs the towel gently across your thighs, sopping up all the tea. His touch is soft and careful. You can feel heat rise to your chest at the closeness—the intimacy of it all. You take a deep breath, struggling to calm your heart as he takes his time taking care of you.

“You sure you’re alright?” He whispers, his eyes suddenly searching yours. The towel hikes up a bit further, the tip brushing against the hem of your shorts. You’re dizzied by his touch, by the comforting way he smiles up at you as he lets the towel fall to the side. Both of his hands are on you now, one on each thigh. His thumbs brush soft shapes into your skin.

Just friends, you say to yourself. Just friends just friends just—

“Hey gu—oh,” Bobby stutters, standing in the doorway with Peter. “S-sorry to interrupt. We didn’t mean to—”

“What do you two want?” Logan cuts him off, his hands slipping off your thighs as he stands to face the boys. You can hear the gruff annoyance in this voice. “No privacy in this goddamn mansion,” he mutters under his breath so low you almost don’t hear it.

“Charles told us to come get you, Logan,” Bobby continues nervously. “He has to talk to you about something.”

Logan groans, irritated as ever. “Fine. Tell him I’ll be there in a second.”

Bobby and Peter nod, too nervous to say anything else, and walk away. Logan is still standing in the same spot. You can tell he’s thinking, contemplating something.

“You better go,” you say, cocking your head towards the hall. “Can’t keep the professor waiting,” you joke. You watch as the corner of his mouth twitches up. Your heart squeezes in your chest at the sight of turning his frown into a smile.

He turns his body so that he’s completely facing you. His throat bobs as his hands curl into fists at his sides. He looks like he’s holding back, resisting—but what? You can’t quite tell.

“Logan?” Charles’ voice calls from down the hall.

“I wanna see that plate clean when I get back,” Logan finally says, pointing to the cookies.

You let out a laugh as he walks to the doorway. “Yes sir,” you pledge, hand on your heart. His smile widens, his eyes grazing up and down your body, as if committing your form to his memory. What you’re seeing can’t be right; it has to be an illusion. You almost think he doesn’t want to leave you—can’t leave you. His feet are planted on the ground, his arms tucked against his chest.

He opens his mouth, but the Professor interrupts him before he can get a word in. “Logan!”

Logan steps out of the doorway impatiently, fists still clutched at his side. “Meet me on the lawn in thirty minutes, okay?” he huffs out, walking down the hallway towards Charles’ voice before you can give him an answer. Charles calls him again. “Yeah, yeah, old man. I hear you!”

Thirty minutes. Just thirty minutes. You can—absolutely cannot—wait thirty minutes.

God. You are so lovesick.

Twenty-five minutes later you’re sitting out on the lawn, far away from the mansion, waiting for Logan, popping the last cookie into your mouth.

You lay down on your back, the cold, wet grass sending a shiver down your spine. There’s a light breeze in the air, bending the green blades and the leaves of the trees back and forth. You look up at the stars, imagining just how hot they are, just how bright they can shine.

“You finished the cookies!” Logan’s voice calls from a few feet away. You sit up, watching the shadow of his form make his way over to you. You can see the smile spread across his face as he reaches your slide, crouching down and sitting next to you.

“Of course I did,” you say. He’s looking down at you, his eyes flickering across your face. You want to look away, but you can’t. It’s like he’s got you stuck there—he always does. He is the one thing you can’t resist.

Logan’s shoulder bumps against yours, the sudden warmth reminding you just how cold you are. You shiver, crossing your arms and tucking them into your chest.

You instinctively and involuntarily lean into his touch, searching for warmth. He catches on to what you’re doing before you do. “Cold?” He asks, shuffling a bit in his spot as he lifts his jacket.

“O-oh no it’s okay you don’t—” But then he’s taking off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“Better?” He asks, his arm wrapping around your shoulders too, inviting you to lean into him completely.

“Y-yeah,” You stutter, letting your head rest against his chest. You close your eyes, too nervous to keep them open. His jacket smells like him—pine and tobacco and musk. Every breath you take is intoxicating. He’s everywhere, flooding your senses. It’s overwhelming, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than with him.

He sighs, his breath fanning against your forehead. “So, what’s the matter?” He asks, tugging you in tighter.

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nothing,” you say, doing your best to be convincing. “I’m fine.” But you know it’s no use. He can see right through you. It’s like knowing when you’re lying is part of his mutation.

Logan raises his brows. “You’re stressed.” It isn’t a question, it’s a fact. “I could see it before, when we were inside. I can see it when you’re teaching the kids.” He rubs his hand up and down your arm, the feeling almost distracting you from his words. His eyes search yours for the truth, for an answer. “You can talk to me, darlin’. I’m right here.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as those last three words replay in your mind. You swallow your nerves down, searching for the right thing to say.

“What if we’re in danger?” You stumble over the sentence quickly, shooting it out into the air like it’s something you’ve wanted to get rid of for a long time. “What if the stupid war they’re always talking about comes, and we aren’t ready?” You can feel your heart racing, tears brimming behind your eyes.

Logan presses a kiss to your forehead, the warm feeling of his lips unexpected but welcome. “Hey,” he coos, his lips still pressed against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.”

A tear slides down your cheek. The words come out like vomit, each syllable slipping off your tongue in rapid-fire succession. “But what if it’s not? What if I can’t protect the kids or the team or you for fuck’s sake?” You can’t stop the floodgates—tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You’re speaking between sobs now. “What if they get to us before we can convince them that mutants aren’t something to be wiped out or some disease to be cured? What if—”

Logan’s arms wrap around your body, tugging you against his chest, pulling you as close as possible. “I’m not gonna let that happen,” he murmurs. “We’re going to figure this out. We’re going to be okay.”

“H-how do you know?” You choke, your chest heaving against his. “What if—"

“No more what ifs,” he whispers, his hands rubbing against the leather of the jacket—his jacket—on your back. “No one’s gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Gonna keep you safe, okay?”

“O-okay,” you mutter. “Gonna k-keep you safe, too.”

Logan hums, the bassy timber of his voice filling your ears, calming your mind. “Don’t worry about me,” he pauses, one hand reaching up to the nape of your neck, rubbing circles into the sensitive skin there. “Just let me worry about you.”

“Always gonna worry about you,” you say, not backing down.

You can feel his heart beating against yours. “You don’t have to right now,” he soothes. “Let me take care of you.”

You don’t protest—don’t try to fight him this time. You let him pull you into his lap, let him hold you closer, let him play with the hair at the nape of your neck. You can feel his lips on the crown of your head. He’s so close—closer than he’s ever been before. He feels so good, so firm and solid underneath you, so steadfast and constant. He’s a lifeline, a necessity. A safe place—asylum.

It has always been him that you need, and you’d be a liar to say otherwise.

Logan finally breaks the silence. “What are you thinking about?” He asks. You, you think.

“Me?” What?

“Did I just…” you trail off. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah, you did,” he husks, his hands lowering down your back, slipping under the jacket and your thin t-shirt to the bare skin underneath. His palms are warm, and his touch is tentative, hesitant. “This okay?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, and Logan starts to draw patterns and shapes across your back. “Feels nice.” Your voice is soft and shaky as he explores your skin.

“I’ve been thinking about you too, you know,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. His nails drag across your back. You move your legs to straddle him. “You’re the only thing on my mind, princess.” He presses his forehead to yours as if to show you, to prove to you that he’s telling the truth. You shudder at the words, at the thought. He presses a chaste kiss to your nose, lowering his lips until they’re just centimeters from yours.

The world feels frozen. You’ve long forgotten you’re outside, the breeze cutting across the grass. You’ve forgotten about the stars twinkling above you. They’re nothing—just balls of heat burning out millions of miles away. You’ve forgotten about all the hatred you’re forced to face, all the variables and lives at stake in this stupid war. Your mind is calm. Everything is suddenly nothing.

Everything is him. Logan.

“Logan,” you mumble. It’s a plea, a prayer, a demand. And he knows exactly what you’re asking for as his name hangs in the air between the two of you.

His lips crash down onto yours, tasting you, savoring you. But it isn’t languid or slow—it’s rushed, frantic, starving, as if your world is ending; it very well could be. He’s pushing you down onto the grass, his muscular arms on either side of your head, caging you in underneath him.

“Wanted you this whole time,” he pants in between kisses. “Needed you, couldn’t stop thinking about you. Still can’t.” He pushes the jacket open with one of his hands and hitches your shirt up. He lowers himself onto his forearm as his nails drag up your stomach, settling just under your ribs. He spreads his palm, feeling the expanse of your skin, tracing your curves and the dips of your body.

“F-fuck,” you stutter, arching your back off the grass and into his chest, offering more of yourself to him.

He bites your lower lip and kisses the pain away. “You gonna let me take you right here?” He growls, his fingers playing with the hem of your bra. “Gonna let me fuck you outside, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you whine, lifting your hips against his, feeling his erection straining in his jeans. “Need you, Lo.”

He curses under his breath as he sits up, his hands pawing at the leather jacket, tearing it from your body and casting it aside. You sit up too, keeping yourself close to him. He’s yanking at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head. He takes off his beater next, but you don’t get the chance to admire him. Everything is a blur, the throwing of clothes, the way he’s shoving you back down to the grass as his fingers unclasp your bra. The straps fall down your arms, and Logan slips it off the rest of the way.

He pauses, taking you in, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, lowering himself back down over you, balancing on one forearm as his free hand slides up your stomach, over your ribs, finally settling on your chest. He cups your tits, squeezing gently, his thumb brushing over one nipple and then the other.

“Perfect. You’re so goddamn perfect,” he praises, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and then to your chin. He continues his trail down to your jaw, your collarbone, the center of your chest.

He takes a detour, his lips latching onto your nipple and biting lightly, his tongue flicking out and soothing the ache away. He kisses across the valley of your chest, bringing his mouth to the other side. He flits his tongue across your other nipple, and continues his trail down your stomach, peppering innocent kisses as he travels lower and lower.

He stops at the hem of your shorts, looking up at you under hooded eyes. You can see the lust, the desire, the need. “Please,” you whimper. And then he’s hastily unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts, wasting no time as he hooks his fingers into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, yanking them down your legs and throwing them carelessly into the grass.

Logan pushes your thighs open. “Keep your legs spread for me, sweetheart.” You can feel his breath on your clit. “Wanna taste you,” he rasps, kissing your core teasingly. “Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

And then his tongue is pushing through your folds, lapping at your juices, all the way up to your clit. It’s already too much, your hips lifting off the grass. Logan brings his arm across your hips in response, keeping you down. “Stay,” he grunts, his voice vibrating against your heat. “Don’t know where you think you’re going, princess.” He’s looking up at you now. You can see the desperation and the hunger in his eyes.

He's starving for you.

He buries his face back into your cunt, swiping his tongue through your folds again before finally settling on your clit. He latches his lips around the bud, sucking harshly. He flicks his tongue out, drawing sweet, sacrilegious circles against your core.

His free hand climbs up your inner thigh, spreading your legs wider for him. His nails ghost across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He finds his way to your folds, spreading your slick, teasing your entrance. You moan his name as he presses your squirming hips down firmly into the ground. “Doing so good for me,” he breathes against your swollen clit. “Such a sweet fucking pussy.”

He sinks two fingers deep into your cunt, humming against you, savoring the taste of you. He pumps in and out, deeper every time. “F-fuck Lo,” you cry out, your hands grasping the blades of grass beneath you for purchase. “Feels so good.”

Your walls flutter around him, your muscles already contracting as he works you open. “That’s it, princess,” he huffs, his teeth grazing your clit as he sucks, hard. “Can feel you squeezing my fingers, can feel you getting close.”

“S-so close,” you choke out as he fucks his fingers into you. His pace becomes faster, relentless. He laps at you like he’s a man who has never eaten in his life.

“I know, sweetheart,” he soothes. “Come on my tongue, darlin’. Know you can do it.” He’s working you through it, swirling his tongue, flicking your clit, licking thick, hard stripes around the bud. His long fingers scissor inside you, rubbing against your walls deliciously. It’s all too much, but it’s just what you need. “Let go for me, pretty girl.”

You feel your walls contract as the fire in your belly spills. You chant his name—Logan. It’s a prayer—no—a promise. It hangs in the air as you come undone underneath him. His fingers pump in and out of you slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm. He carefully pulls out after a few more thrusts, but his face is still buried in your cunt, still lapping at your swollen, overstimulated clit.

“Lo,” you whimper, looking down at him. He looks up at you, his tongue licking one long stripe before he stops completely.

He presses a chaste kiss to your clit as he sits up and unbuckles his belt. “Gonna have to taste that pretty pussy again later, yeah?” He throws his belt to the side and unbuttons his jeans. He slides the zipper down, too, and hooks his fingers inside his jeans, shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs in one quick movement.

You can make out just how big he is in the moonlight. You swallow at the size of him. He lowers down onto you again, resting on his forearm, guiding his cock towards your entrance.

He captures your lips in a kiss as he nudges against you, teasing you, spreading your folds open for him. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he coos, kissing you again. “Gonna make you feel good.”

You wrap your arms around his back, bringing his chest flush to yours. “Need you, Logan. Need you inside me.”

“I know,” he whispers, nudging teasingly against you again. “I know.”

And then he’s shoving himself deep inside you, filling you up. You can feel his cock twitching, throbbing, searching for more of you. He pulls all the way out and buries himself back down to the hilt.

“F-fuck,” you curse, your nails digging into his shoulders, searching for support. “It’s s-so much. So big.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he husks, setting a slow, easy pace, letting you adjust to the size of him. “Taking me so good.” He’s working you open with every pump, his cock rubbing against your walls and stretching you out.

Logan brings his free hand between your bodies to your still-swollen clit, stroking gently as he plunges deeper into you, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You moan his name, your chest coming flush with his as you arch your back. The contact feels so nice—just what you needed. He’s fucking you out, pounding into you over and over again.

He's erasing every fear, every bad dream, every horrible vision you’ve ever had. It’s what he does to you. It’s just him—Logan—always has been and always will be.

“Such a good girl,” he grunts. “Letting me fuck you out here.” His hips snap against yours—building his pace, growing faster and deeper as he thrusts into you. You can feel yourself growing closer, crumbling underneath him. You can’t last much longer, your walls fluttering around him, squeezing him tightly.

He moans your name into your mouth, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip, tasting you. “You feel so good, pretty girl,” he groans, rocking into you. “So soft, so tight. Know you’re close.” He flicks your clit, and then circles roughly. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

“G-gonna…” You trail off, a bumbling mess, unable to finish your sentence as Logan fucks into you.

“I know, pretty girl,” He soothes. “I’m right here, I’ve got you. Come for me.”

You can’t hold back anymore. You can feel yourself letting go, your walls fluttering around him, taking him deeper, holding him tighter. Your orgasm washes over you, like sun stretching across your skin, like a fire spreading in a forest. It’s all too much, too good.

Logan isn’t far behind. You can feel his cock twitching deep inside you, his pace faltering, his thrusts becoming sloppier. His fingers leave your clit and travel up your body. His hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you gently as he pumps into you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Wanna come inside you, pretty girl,” he moans, pulling you closer, taking you deeper.

You nod against his forehead. “P-please,” you stutter, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t want you to leave yet.”

“F-fuck,” he growls, your words sending him over the edge as he spills inside you, filling you up. “You’ve idea,” he chokes, “how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” His thrusts slow as he rides out his orgasm, pumping in and out a few more times before pulling out of you.

He doesn’t break contact—doesn’t rush to get changed. He rolls onto his back and pulls you with him so that your head rests on his chest, your body tucked tightly into his. You can hear his heart beating deep inside—hear his shaky breaths become more stable. The air is no longer cold—the breeze a welcome contrast to the hot summer night air.

Your legs tangle together. Somewhere in the distance birds sing. A branch creaks. The wind whisks through the grass. You close your eyes and listen. The calm before the storm. This peace can’t last.

“Lo?” You call, breaking the silence.

He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m right here.”

“I know, but—”

It’s like he can read your mind. “I’m not going anywhere. No one is.” He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“I’m just scared to lose you, to lose all this.”

Logan presses another kiss to your head. “I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I promise.”

Nothing’s gonna take you from my side.

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augustinewrites · 7 months ago

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yesterday afternoon - after an unsuccessful coffee shop date - you’d decided that dating sucked. it was much too awkward and formal and not at all like it was in the movies, putting too much pressure on the people involved.

last night - after watching shoko flirt her way into free drinks - you’d been tipsy enough to take her advice.

casual sex! it doesn't have to be with a stranger, just pick someone you know. someone you’re sure you won't fall in love with.

this morning you’d woken up to find gojo laying in bed next to you.

you lay shoulder to shoulder with the one person you should not have picked, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the other person to speak.

“did we really–”

“three times,” satoru confirms happily, rolling onto his side to grin down at you. “i'm surprised we didn't do this sooner, really. our sexual tension has always been off the charts.”

when he leans in to kiss you, his lips meet your palm as your expression wrinkles. “don’t get familiar.”

“we’re naked together in bed– we slept together in more than the literal sense. can’t get more familiar than that.”

“and this never happen again,” you promise, refusing to look at him.

“why? because you’re afraid you’ll fall in love with me? it’s okay to admit it. i'm extremely lovable.”

you’ve seen the way girls fawn over him. how they swoon over his pretty eyes and confident smile. he’s satoru gojo. a legend amongst jujutsu society. you’re no one in comparison, not a user of an otherworldly cursed technique, not from a major clan.

people like him don’t fall for people like you. you’re afraid of rejection, afraid of being hurt.

“we’re friends,” you tell him honestly. “i don’t want to risk ruining our friendship over something like this.”

he tilts his head as your look at him. “shoko told you to try casual sex, didn't she? why not with me?”

“she told you?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face and making a mental note to never ask your roommate for advice for anything ever again.

“hey, look at me,” he urges, grasping your hand. you do as he says, meeting his earnest gaze. “i can be casual and chill, it’s not like i have a huge crush on you or anything.”

it’s so hard to say no to him. you really wish you could.

“i’ll think about it,” you tell him, rolling your eyes when he fist pumps. “but you need to go home before shoko sees you.”

but you’re dealing with satoru gojo, who almost never does what he’s told. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. come here.”

he winds an arm around you, pulli my you in so you’re snug against his chest. explicit memories of last night flash through your mind, sending heat through your veins.

“i can’t.” you tell him (though you’re mostly reminding yourself.) this is insane— satoru, what are you—”

you’re cut off when he shushes you, whispering let’s sleep in for a little while longer.

he starts to drift off again as you struggle to escape his grasp, but your efforts are futile. even on the throes of sleep, satoru is stronger than you.

so you give up, resigning yourself to a few more minutes of…cuddling. shoko isn’t a morning person anyways.

after a minute, you find it's not entirely awful. it’s a purely physical reaction. gojo is good looking, even with his hair mussed with sleep and his mouth hanging open. because you know that under the softness of his skin lays defined muscle, and spending the morning in his nicely toned arms isn’t the worst thing in the world.

(it’s purely physical, is what your head tries to convince your heart, which is beating a little faster than usual.)

a very soft, content sigh slips past your lips.

then, shoko knocks on your door.

“hey! don’t tell me you’re too hungover for grocery shopping.”

“shit!” you whisper harshly, shoving him away from you. “she cannot see you in here.”

“afraid you’ll have to share?” he teases, narrowly avoiding being hit with a pillow. “okay, okay! where do you want me?”

“closet!” you instruct, scrambling my around the room to make sure none of his clothes are lying around. you thrust them into his hands, pushing him into your closet.

he catches the door before you can close it, smiling down at you. “aren’t you glad we’re doing this?”

you shove him inside, slamming the door shut just ask shoko bursts into the room.

“hey,” you greet, trying your best to appear casual as you lean against the door. your heart beats in your throat, as she squints at you, then lets her gaze sweep across the room.

“did you bring someone home last night?”

“no.”

she looks at you. really looks at you, you think.

“okay,” she finally says, though you can’t tell if she believes you. “i just– i thought i saw you leave with gojo. suguru said you two were flirting all night.”

“gojo and i?” you try to laugh, but it comes out a little strained. “never in a million years.”

shoko only shrugs, and you let yourself relax when she turns to leave…

…only for her to turn around once more, leaning the the doorframe. “well if you really don't like him, just let him down easy, alright? suguru told me he has a huge crush on you.”

wait–

“gojo?”

you hear a sharp inhale through the door.

“yeah,” she nods. “you really couldn't tell?”

gojo…has a crush on you. it takes a few seconds to truly sink in. “i had no idea.”

“of course you didn't. he’s definitely got a really weird way of showing it.”

she turns to leave for real this time, but you wait a couple extra seconds before opening your closet, finding a wide eyed, blushing satoru staring at you.

you can't help but laugh. at his expression, at shoko’s revelation, at this entire situation.

dating sucks, but maybe it won’t be that bad if it’s with him.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff

4K notes · View notes

moon7jay · 9 months ago

Text

ㄴ CHERRY🍒 ㄱ : Lee Heeseung

pairing : pervert!heeseung x virgin!reader

cheeries to pop this semester : Y/N (Heeseung's pick)

Warnings : toxic heeseung, manipulation, coercion, morally gray characters, dub con, infidelity, angst, filthy smut, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, body image issues, body shaming, family issues (it gets heavy), unprotected sex, cum eating, violence, dacryphilia.

Wc : 23k+

a/n : IT'S FINALLY HERE OMG, this is my first full length fic on here and I really put my all into it, please reblog and leave feedbacks, it's really really important for me, I cherish all of your words so much<3

!!!!!!! READ PREVIEW FIRST !!!!!!!!

You're quite literally the most stuck up thing Heeseung has ever laid his eyes on. It’s the way you stick out like a sore thumb; Your ponytail is meticulously braided, the grandma skirt that you chose to wear cascades down, stopping just beneath your knees in a habitual fashion and your pressed pink silk blouse is impeccably buttoned up to the collar, not one inch of extra skin in sight.

The book clutched tightly against your chest ties your entire look of “austere sophistication” together.

"Microprocessors", the title reads. Pfft. Typical of you. Only you can clutch onto such a demonic book like it is some quality literature. Heeseung nearly fights the urge to scoff.

You're peak virgin demonstration if Heeseung’s ever seen one. Your embodiment of purity is unparalleled, and it feels like a personal attack on his masculinity that he hasn't been able to get you under him yet. Keyword : yet.

As he backs you up against the wall, your eyes downcast and your free hand nervously fiddling with the button of your blouse, he thinks you look pathetic. You exude an air of pitiful vulnerability, and it ignites a primal desire within him to consume you entirely.

You're nervous and it’s palpable. He can see it in the way you don't even meet his eyes, refusing to face him at all. The blush adorning the apple of your cheeks is adorable; fuck, you're cute. And Heeseung doesn't like cute things. But something about you makes you the exception to his usual preferences. Your innocence only provokes him more, acting as a catalyst, intensifying his desire to unleash all his darkest fantasies on your inexperienced body. He wants to explore you, peel off your layers and dive in deep like no one has ever done before. This need, this innate urge to taint you; it drives him absolutely feral.

"Did you watch the video I sent you last night?" he asks, unable to stop himself from leaning into your space, taking a deep whiff of your vanilla perfume. You even smell like a virgin. Fresh and untainted. And, oh so tempting.

Your head shakes meekly, but the discreet way you bite your lower lip tells him that you did watch it. Fuck yeah. He was high and horny when he recorded that nut video. Pressing send wasn’t on his agenda but his head was filled with the sinful thoughts of you and your pretty pink lips, and what better way to testify his desire to you than making you see how he looks in throes of pleasure, chanting your name like a literal dog in heat.

You yelp when his hand grabs your waist to pull you closer to himself. God, you feel good against him.

He nuzzles his nose into your warm cheek while your tiny fist makes contact with his chest "let-let go" you squeak out and it only makes him chuckle in amusement. You're so fucking cute.

"you liked it baby? Bet you liked how I stroked my dick nice and slow, just for you" He watches in glee as the red in your cheeks spreads all the way down to your neck. He loves how responsive you are, loves how even the littlest of words make you falter in front of him, like a frail flower caught in a sudden gust of wind. Then you look up, and Heeseung feels his breath leaving his chest, as if the air has been vacuumed from his lungs .Your big, captivating eyes meet his dark ones and he can't help but let his perverse curiosity take over his sick mind. He wonders how your pretty orbs look when you cry.

Scratch that. He wants to see you cry.

What makes this thought more unsettling is that fact that Heeseung isn't apposed to seeing you cry in pain. As long he gets to see your eyes brimming with tears , he cannot give less of a fuck about their source. He'll fuck you missionary, Heeseung decides, staring deep into your eyes while he slides deep inside your tight little pussy. His cock chubs up at the thought alone.

"you c-can''t send me stuff like that, it's inappropriate" you mumble shyly. He snickers and squeezes the fat of your waist, making another pathetic squeak to leave your mouth.

"What can I do darling, there's not one appropriate thought in my head when it comes to you. wanna do so many inappropriate things to you, you’ll let me won’t you?" He whisper asks, and watches how your eyes struggle to maintain eye contact before you succumb to your shyness, choosing to look down instead.

"Heeseung, man, it’s time to go " Jake's panicked voice interrupts the filthy words he was about to mutter in your ears again. He turns his head slightly towards the entrance of the hall and sees Jake's brown mop of hair, rustling right outside. Heeseung sighs and turns back to face you.

"Looks like we'll have to cut our fun short, you'll wait for my call tonight won't you baby? wanna hear your voice when I cum" He tells you, reveling in the way you only curl into yourself at his words, chewing your bottom lip raw. Fuck he wants to kiss the fuck out of you. But he can't. Not yet. Heeseung is aware of the boundaries he’s been crossing by touching you and sending you intimate stuff without your consent, and he doesn't want to push it, not so fast.He lets go of your body reluctantly and winks at you before making his way out of the hall. Jake's frantic eyes meet his once he's outside, and he rolls his eyes, already sensing an incoming lecture about morals and respect.

"I'm never gonna be your guard dog again, it's risky fucking business" Jake spits,brows furrowed in distress. Heeseung merely shakes his head at him "you won't get it" he mumbles as he walks ahead, leaving Jake to run to catch up to him

"Yeah, I don't see the fun in being suspended, but hey, maybe that's just me" Jake replies sarcastically ,making Heeseung give him “the” look. "Dramatic much?" He asks, rounding the corner to the cafeteria and making his way inside.

"I'm being dramatic? You're the one risking your reputation for some pussy, we can both be in jail for sexual harassment". Heeseung tunes out his friend's baseless rant and plops onto his designated seat. Jake slumps down right next to him.

"Man I'm just saying, that if she ever decides to go to the dean about this, your messages will be proof enough to land you in big trouble" Jake explains. “and me too because you drag me into every unethical thing like the good friend that you are” he adds, sarcasm dripping from his tone, and Heeseung wonders when Jake fell victim to the sassy men apocalypse.

But you won't, you love the chase as much as he does, he can see it in your eyes, Heeseung wants to say, but he doesn’t, choosing to stare at you instead. His eyes trace the movement of your figure when you enter the cafeteria sometime later. You're still hugging the book to your chest, making your way to the seat that's the farthest away from everyone else, as always. Your skirt makes his hands itch, he wants to know what lies underneath so fucking badly. He wonders if you know the effect that your modesty has on him, wonders if you know that your body being covered from head to toe gives more space for fantasy and yearning than any naked girl ever could.

"Stare any longer and your eyeballs might fall out of their sockets" Sunghoon’s berating voice brings his attention back to the table. He was so lost in you that he didn't notice sunghoon flopping down in the seat right across from him, shrugging his jacket off and throwing it unceremoniously on the table.

"She's gonna be the death of me" Heeseung bemoans, running an exasperated hand over his face. Sunghoon laughs and kicks his leg under the table.

"She already saw her name in that list that day, she knows what you want, and I don't think she'll let you anywhere near her anytime soon". Jake snorts, masking it with a cough when Heeseung shoots a glare in his direction.

He looks over at you again, finding the way you fiddle with your pen oddly erotic. He thinks he might be losing his goddamn mind, because the way he jerked off right after you angrily threw the “cherries to pop this semester” list on his face and stormed off , was shameful to say the least. That was the first time he had seen pure heat and raw emotion in your eyes, and damn you looked sexy as hell when you were angry.

"She won't be a virgin by the end of this semester, write it down" Heeseung challenges, meeting Sunghoon's eyes. His friend only shrugs in response and turns around to look at you over his shoulder.

"Sure, but by the looks of it, you won't be the one doing the honors" Jake snorts again , but Heeseung doesn't spare him a glance this time, his entire attention pivoted to the raven haired boy making his way over to your table. Heeseung doesn't like the way your eyes light up and you instantly sit up straighter in your seat, fixing your hair as if looking to impress. He scoffs. Loudly. Fucking park jongseong.

"Does she really find that dweeb attractive?" He can't help but ask, jaw clenching when he sees you blushing, genuinely blushing and smiling at someone who's not him.

"I dunno man, girls love that whole nerdy gentleman thing jay's got going on, some bullshit about being a green flag and all" Sunghoon supplies.

"They're friends too, lover boy's got game" Jake adds, smiling cheekily when Heeseung shoots him a dark look, yet again.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

You're in a trance like state when you walk back home. With the whole hall incident with Heeseung, and jay approaching you at lunch, today doesn’t seem real, as if belonging to a different reality altogether.

What you feel for Heeseung isn't something that you can describe in words. He.. He harasses you. He touches you and grabs you and gropes you, but within limits. His actions lie in a murky territory, perplexing the norms of acceptability, and yet, you only yearn more. does that make sense? Maybe it doesn't to normal people, but in your touch starved brain, it perfectly makes sense. Some days you hate him and some days you crave him, always oscillating between the extremes of loathing and longing. You suppose that's because he's been the only source of thrill amidst the barren landscape of your existence for a very long time. He excites you, he flusters you, but ignites flames beneath your breastbone with mere words. His gaze unnerves you and yet, you can't bring yourself to push him away. Some would call you crazy, and you won't have any convincing arguments to defend yourself.

You have been a little desperate all your life, desperate for someone to want you, desperate for someone to see you, a ceaseless yearning for recognition, for acknowledgement of your existence and you're not ashamed to admit it. After all, how far can you lie about the very thing etched into your bones and skin? And to what end?

More, more, more, the intense craving, an insatiable hunger for it defined your very being. You were an unattractive child and grew up into an even more unappealing adult , at least that's what your mother used to tell you before she eventually passed away. Her echoes of criticism resonated through your subconscious, shaping you as a mirror of her own insecurities.

That would explain why you can't meet your own eyes in the mirror, and crave attention like a drug, seeking solace in the fleeting attention Heeseung bestows upon you. He's akin to a drug that leaves you high and delusional for a while, intoxicating you with fleeting moments of desirability.

You aren't stupid though, you harbor no illusions regarding his intentions . You know what he wants from you, you are aware that you as a person don't mean a thing to him, he just wants to take your virginity and flaunt it around like a badge of peak male prowess or something, you're just another challenge to him, reduced to a mere conquest for his vanity. But you haven't felt like a person in so long, you don't think you are in any position to make demands.

When you've been parched long enough, when the thirst reaches fever pitch, threatening to push you over the verge of insanity; the yearning for satisfaction eclipses the rationality of self preservation. The moment of brief satiation held such a twisted appeal, that you were willing to embrace pain and self destruction if it came along with a fleeting sense of fulfillment. The need for validation clouds your judgement, and you become nothing but a mindless puppet of your desires.

That might also explain why your crush on park jongseong is still alive after being brutally rejected in the first semester. Jay and you had developed a friendship really quickly at the very beginning of college, but both of you had never really talked outside of the university hackathons and coding competitions. His knowledge was what drew you to him, and the way he was able to come up with solutions to the most complex problems while you were fighting for your life, it just left you with no choice but to watch him with heart eyes. He was always polite to you too, and what were you if not a sucker for gentle and soft spoken men.

He stopped talking to you after you confessed though, not completely because you still had to work on projects together, but conversations became more one sided and short, and so eventually, you just grew apart.

But ever since you got grouped together for the Cp techathon, he has started acting different; there’s so many lingering touches and subtle flirty glances that sometimes you’re sure you’re imagining everything in your head. Maybe you should get checked out for maladaptive daydreaming. Just a suggestion.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when you reach the curb of your house and don't see your dad's car parked inside. You breathe out a sigh of relief at the sight and proceed to make your way to your neighbor’s house. Suzy, your 60 year old neighbor, might be the only good thing going on for you. As you ring her door bell, you can't help but feel excited at the prospect of seeing your brother after an entirety of 2 whole weeks. Pitter patter of slippers approaches the door , and Suzy's wrinkled face greets you with a warm smile, as if she was already expecting you.

"Hi" you smile, and she motions behind her, at the loud chatter of your brother.

"Jihoon has not stopped asking for you for a second" She says , and you can't help but laugh as you make your way inside.

The four year old stops talking to his toys as soon as he sees you, his blue orbs staring at you for a whole minute in amazement, and then , as if snapping out of a trance, he sprints towards you at the speed of lightening. "Y/n! " he squeals.

You giggle when he tackles you with a hug, sighing in contentment at finally feeling him so close. You're hit with a sudden urge to cry, feeling his tiny arms wrap around your neck, being away from him never gets easy no matter how many times you have done it. You coo as he tells you how much he missed you, burying his tiny frame further into your chest. You press several kisses to his face and tell him you missed him just as much.

"Will you be taking him home today?" Suzy asks, coming over to sit down on the couch in front of you. You caress the back of jihoon's head, rocking him back and forth in your embrace, and meet her eyes, nodding a little. "Dad won't be home for a few weeks, hopefully, his car isn't there" you tell her. She nods in understanding and pats your arm, letting you know with her eyes, that she'll be here if you need her.

You're grateful for her, she's the only person you can entrust your little brother with when things start to get bad at home. On the days your dad decides to get shit faced and break everything in the house, succumbing to bouts of inebriation, you're grateful that you can keep jihoon away from the violence. You honestly don't know what you would do without Suzy, the only steadfast refuge from the chaos that is your life. In some way, you are aware that having jihoon over alleviates her loneliness too, fulfilling her own needs of companionship that she deeply craves in her old age.

Occasionally, you're hit with a wave of inevitable jealousy at jihoon’s sheltered innocence, wishing that someone had kept you away too; from the violence and the pain. But you guess you were meant to be the protector instead of the protected, healing your inner child every time you see jihoon smiling brighter than the sun. If you had to live through all the suffering again , just to preserve and shelter his infectious smile, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Suzy hands you a box of home made food when you make your way outside. "I promise to be back for you in a few hours sweetie, you will behave right?" you coo at jihoon's snotty, red nose as he clings onto your leg, begging you to take him with you. You sigh and watch in helplessness as Suzy picks him up in her arms, shushing him down so you can leave. It never gets easier.

Returning home, you dodge the broken pieces of glass and frames, quickly get out of your college attire, throwing on a pair of worn out jeans and a discolored top. There's still an hour for you to be at your part time job , and so you start cleaning the house instead. You don't know why you bother, to be honest, but there's an innate need that craves normalcy. When the house is clean, that means everything is going to be okay. Cleaning serves as a ritual of order amidst chaos, offering a sense of control amidst uncertainty.

Your shift at the cafe ends in a daze, countless customers come in and go out, some rude, some decent but you have learnt to take everything in a stride now. First month you had started working this job, you were a crying mess after the end of almost every shift, your sensitive little heart unable to comprehend why people were so rude. However, just like everything else in your life, you adapted to the demands of the job pretty quickly. As you stare at the now almost deserted cafe, save for a handful of students engrossed in their laptops, you pray that no one else comes in. Fatigue weighs heavily upon you, you’re exhausted out of your mind and just want to get out of here as soon as you can. Yet, as the familiar chime of the entrance bell resounds, signaling the arrival of yet another customer, you resign yourself to another interaction.

Your head snaps towards the door and your jaw quite literally falls to the floor. For as long as you have worked here, you've never run into any of your classmates. However, today out of all days, when you look like the wall mart version of the walking dead, park fucking jongseong is here. Because of course he is, your life has to be a social experiment.

You pull yourself together when you realize that he's smiling at you, and you aren't smiling back. "Hi" you squeak out, fairly sure that you sounded pathetic. He grins at your flustered state, and leans closer to you on the counter.

"Hi" He whispers back, your heart beating faster at the look he's giving you. You stare at his perfectly parted raven hairs and mentally pass out when he fiddles with his lip ring.

"Um-so- what can i get you?" You stutter out, finally coming to your senses and realizing that you have a job. His eyes travel down to your chest , and he leans further into your personal space, his expensive cologne filling up your senses.

"I'll take you" He replies smoothly.

"I-, what-you huh" you splutter, not quite trusting your own ears. There's no way Jay is flirting with you right now. The crush that you've harbored for the boy blooms in full glory as he continues to smile at you, a suggestive glint in his eyes. His smile is so damn pretty.

"I'm kidding pretty girl, I just saw you from across the street and thought I'd say hi, and ask if you need a ride back home" He explains. Your lips tug into a shy smile at the nickname, and you peek outside to see his gray Volkswagen parked across the street. Oh wow, Jay thinks you're pretty AND he wants to give you a ride back home. Why does that sound so familiar? You’re pretty sure you saw this same scenario playing out in one of your lovesick dreams last week.

"Oh-um- i don't wanna cause you any trouble" you mumble , hoping that he doesn't see the way your back is ramrod straight all of a sudden. You never really prepared yourself for the possibility of him , or anyone for that matter, wanting to drop you at your house. You're not ashamed of your neighborhood or the life that you live, but you despise the looks of judgement and pity more. You have managed to maintain this facade of a properly put together person for so long in college, and it has saved you so much mental torture that you know would ensue once everyone gets to know about your humble abode, and how your scholarship is the only reason you’re able to afford your college.

"come on sweetheart, would I really walk all the way across the street if I really didn't wanna see you?" He asks, fiddling with his lip ring again. If you didn't know any better, you would say he looks sort of nervous. But why would anyone be nervous of you. Of all people.

You nod meekly and mumble a quick "my shift gets over in 5 minutes", trying to wrap your head around the fact that Jay wanted to see you. HE wanted to see YOU. Jay winks at you and makes his way outside. You follow him with your eyes as he crosses the street and goes back inside his car, waiting for you.

HE'S WAITING FOR YOU. What on god’s green earth.

Seeing that there's only one customer left, you hurriedly make your way to the ladies toilet and wash your face, trying to get rid of the tiredness and grime off of it. What if he kisses you? Your own delusion makes you laugh. You do have some nerve at coming up with such insane scenarios in your head. He's just being nice, and here you are, hearing wedding bells.

You reapply your lip balm and take off the apron you were adorning over your tee. You look okay. Well. There's not much you can do in the current situation anyway. You do hope that he overlooks how unkempt you look compared to your college appearance. Should you untie your hairs? But, wouldn't that be too much? He just saw you with a ponytail... fuck it, it's like a once in a lifetime opportunity anyway. You untie your hairs and let them fall in cascades over your shoulders. This is better.

You clean up behind you and inform the remaining customer that it's closing time. Handing the keys to Ralph, the security guard, you quickly run across the street, not wanting to make him wait any longer. Jay opens the car door for you from the inside even before you can reach it.

"Hop in" He says, a grin in his voice and he doesn't have to ask you twice.

This might be the most expensive car you've ever had the opportunity to sit in. The leather is soft against your skin, and it smells of fresh citrus. Even his car smells good.

"So, Where to darling?" He asks, running his eyes all over you. You feel a little self conscious under his gaze but manage to utter your address nonetheless.

The entire ride is mostly silent with little conversation that he makes, asking you for directions. It isn't awkward, and you're so grateful for that.

"Is this it?" He asks, stopping his car in front of the building whose name you blurted instead of your real address.

You nod and thank him, ready to get out of the car when he grabs your wrist, pulling you into him. The middle console digs into your stomach but you honestly couldn't care less with the way his hot breath falls on your face.

Your cheeks are warm and you are sure that you represent a tomato with the way the heat only increases when he tucks your hairs behind your ear with his other hand.

And oh god, he's leaning in, his eyes fixed onto your lips as he inches closer and closer and-

As if on autopilot, You push him away. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment at how taken aback he looks by your sudden reaction.

"I-im sorry i- i don't-

"I thought you liked me" He says in a hostile tone, and you can hear the annoyance in his voice, can see the indignation in his eyes.

You can't believe you just pissed off your longtime crush because of your inability to be normal. How could you have fucked up so badly?

"I-i do, I do like you" You mumble quickly, trying to hold your tears at bay when he scoffs at your words. The shame weighs heavy on your chest as he stares at you a bit longer before looking forward towards the road.

"Goodnight y/n" He replies sharply, in the most coldest voice you have ever seen him use towards you.

Your lips quiver as you wrack your brain for something to say but you don't think you can say anything to fix this now. You've made a fool of yourself and embarrassed Jay all because you can't be fucking normal about anything.

He presses the horn aggressively, and you jump, mumbling apologies and scurrying out of his car hurriedly. Your ears burn in humiliation when he drives off without sparing a single glance towards you.

Well done y/n. Your habit of being self sabotaging never really will go away. You cry all the way back to your house, not understanding the abrupt downturn of promising events. It was going so well. He was going to kiss you. You were so close to having your first kiss.

You wipe your tears dry when you get close to your house. Jihoon is fast asleep in Suzy's arms when she hands him over to you. You thank her for her kindness and make your way to your house, cradling jihoon's sleeping form. When he cuddles into your neck, his innocent embrace evokes a flood of pent up tears; all that you've been pushing back today, comes flooding out. You can't help but wonder if you'll ever be able to sleep this carefree in someone's arms. If there's love meant for you,then you have never felt it once in your life, and you wonder if it's too late now.

You're crying when you tuck him tenderly into bed, crying when you leave a wet kiss on his forehead, caressing his soft cheeks. You're crying when you try to eat the food Suzy gave you in the afternoon, and you're crying when you rub off all the evidence of today from your body inside the shower. At one point, you aren’t even sure what you’re crying about.

Thankfully, when you come out of the shower, the tears have ceased. You embrace the numbness which spreads all over your body after a soul crushing sob session. It’s funny really, how quickly you seem to turn your emotions on and off like a flip switch, like they aren’t even real at all.

Once your emotions are out of the way, and jihoon is asleep, you can't help but relish in the feeling of your skin under your fingertips. You aren't particularly horny, you just want to feel better and sleep with an empty mind. Masturbation always seems to work.

You throw off your towel and crawl onto the bed, spreading your legs and rubbing small circles on your clit, trying to get yourself wet. You rub and rub, and whine when it starts to feel somewhat good. Still, it isn't good enough to get you soaked thoroughly, so that you can cum again and again to your heart's content.

You groan frustratedly and reach for your phone, feeling extremely ashamed when your finger hovers over heeseung's chats. Your pussy tingles in excitement when you read his lewd words, attached to the video he sent you yesterday.

"Gonna fuck you so good if you give me a chance baby, look how hard you make this dick"

You bite your lower lip and press play, rubbing your thighs together at the wet sounds coming from the video. His dick is so thick and girthy, curving upwards in excitement. His fingers look so long wrapped around his cock, you can’t help but squeeze your thighs at the thought of feeling them inside of you.

The way he moves his palm, up and down, up and down, moaning and groaning your name in pleasure, it has you writhing in no time. You will never admit it to heeseung, but he's the only person you ever think of while touching yourself. He turns you on beyond belief. He turns you on in a way that feels wrong. Almost Taboo.

You continue to rub your clit to the sight of him jerking off, hoping that you could see his face in the video too. You wonder what he looks like when he's feeling good. The thought alone is enough to have you dripping in no time. You throw your phone onto the bed, but before you can start fingering your leaking pussy, your phone rings, making you groan in annoyance.

You reach beside your head to pick it up and almost drop it on your face when you see heeseung's name flashing on your screen.

Fuck. What the fuck.

When he told you in college that he was gonna call, you really didn't think he actually will. But the phone is ringing and your body lights up in excitement. Is he really going to jerk off on call? Is he really that perverse?

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you swipe right, chewing on your lower lip as you press the phone against your ear.

"Hey baby, I didn't think you would pick up, missed me didn't ya? " His cocky voice blares through the speaker and you blush. How was he making you blush over the phone, get a fucking grip y/n.

He chuckles when you don't say anything, finding your silence cute.

"At least say a hi for me baby, so I can know that I'm not about to jerk off for your dad" His words make you wince, why was he so vulgar?

"Heeseung!" You whisper shout, trying to convey through your voice how scandalized you are.

"There she is, fuck pretty, you're gonna stay with me on call while I beat my meat for you yeah?" He grunts and you gasp, feeling violated by his language alone.

You rub your thighs and fiddle with your pebbled nipples "c-can you not use such words? " you ask quietly, hoping that he doesn't pick up on the silent whine that leaves your mouth right after.

You hear a little shuffling on the line and your face feels hot. So he really is getting ready to jerk off? What will he say if you tell him how wet you are for him right now?

Heeseung can't believe you haven't hung up on him yet. His dick getting harder and harder the more that he hears your cute fucking voice.

"Nah baby, I'm a nasty motherfucker, you should know that. If you ever let me fuck your cunt, I'll show you what real nasty sex feels like" He says, groaning when he hears you whimper at his words. Fuck. Why the fuck are you so fucking cute.

He hisses when he wraps his rough palm around his leaking prick, he hasn't even started jerking off yet and he's already leaking so much precum.

Heeseung doesn't like cute things, but fuck does he want to fuck into one, wants to pound your cute little pussy while you make those cute little sounds for him.

His ears perk up when he hears the wet squelching sounds coming through the speaker. Fuck. Fuck are you--?

"baby, are you touching yourself? I can hear your wet little cunt through the phone" He grunts, as if in pain.

The moan that you let out tells him all that he needs to know. And damn he's never been so fucking hard before.

"fuck yeah baby, fuck yourself with your tiny little fingers, make yourself feel real good for me" He groans, stroking his cock at a rapid pace, unable to stop himself from going feral. This is the first time that you have given him the taste of what it really could be like if he was buried in your wet snatch. It's driving him batshit crazy.

"H-heeseung" you mewl, making him fuck into his fist faster. God, you sound so sexy. The heat spreads all over his body, making him feel so damn good that he starts bucking up his hips into his hands.

"Y-yeah? Feels so good yeah , baby? Fuck, I wish It was my cock buried in you right now, I would pound you all fucking night -ugh fuckk" he grunts, panting as he feels the knot in his stomach tighten. He wants to cum so bad.

Your whines reach a fever pitch and the intensity of the wet squelch increases. God, the filthy sounds of your wetness as you play with your pussy, make his tongue loll out of his mouth. He needs to bury his face in your juices before he dies.

"g-gonna c-um im-ah" you moan, whining and panting as your orgasm gets closer.

Heeseung curses under his breath and jerks off furiously, squeezing his engorged dick head and hissing in pure pleasure.

"Oh yeah, cum all over my fucking cock baby, make a fucking mess, I'm gonna give you my cum too" He moans, thrusting up into his fist, again and again and again, chasing his high desperately. His palm is a wet, sticky mess of precum while he strokes his shaft to your whiny voice. You make him so fucking horny, the brutal way he's fisting his dick is a testament to that.

A loud moan on your end makes him cuss, his own eyes rolling back as he hears you cumming. So fucking cute, god you sound heavenly. His hips buck up into his fist a few more times before he's spurting thick strings of his cum all over his chest and palm. He plants his feet onto the bed, and thrusts up into his fist over and over to drain himself of all that he has to give.

Fucking hell, that was probably the best jerk off session of his life. Before he can tell you that, however, you hang up on him.

Heeseung chuckles in exhaustion and doesn't even bother cleaning his body, laying on the bed in pure sexual satiation.

You're so cute.

The events of yesterday hit you hard in the morning. Your eyes are swollen and red because of the crying session you had after masturbation. When the high of the orgasm wore off, everything else came back and it hurt like a bitch.

You can't believe you let heeseung talk you through your orgasm, you can't believe that he made you cum without touching you, and what you can't believe the most is how much you liked it.

Your mind drifts off to Jay, and a sudden shame fills you up again. No matter how hard you try, you're unable to forget the look of disappointment on his face, looking at you with so much annoyance etched onto the creases of his face, it almost reminded you of your mother.

Your gaze goes to the clock and you can't help but heave yourself out of the bed. As much as you'd like to stay and rot in extreme self pity, you don't have the option. Jihoon will be up soon, and you have a limited one hour stretch to make his lunch and get ready for college. You're not ready for the walk of shame to college, but being an academic weapon is your only achievement in life. You wonder what you would be if they take that away from you. Have you ever done anything else? Gone out, made friends? Got drunk at parties, had sleepovers? You haven't, you realize with a throbbing pain at the back of your head. It never was an option for you.

You take a shower and fix a quick breakfast for your brother and yourself, getting ready in your prim and proper attire, reverting back to your put together front.

Waking up jihoon is a work of lost art that you've mastered over the years, and so it's easy work. What isn't easy, however, is to convince him to let you go.

"Why can't you stayy" He whines, tears already filling up his big, brown eyes as he clings to your leg like always.

You kneel down to come face to face with him and quickly wipe his tears away "I'm going to bring back chocolates, you like them right?" you ask, cooing when he nods, his brows still furrowed in defiance.

"Then someone will have to go and bring them right? so be a good boy and let y/n go"

His little brows furrow further and he shakes his head again "suzy can go" He declares, and you can't help but be endeared. All the time that you stay away from him, you'd started to believe that he'll develop more of an attachment with suzy and eventually forget you. But these little things, these are the things that keep you going.

You plant a big kiss on his puffy cheeks and he's back to grinning in no time, giggling as you tackle him in your arms.

"Just a few more hours baby, I'll be back and we'll play together, I promise" you assure the little boy and his eyes shine at your words, "swings! at the park!" He exclaims, as if remembering the most important treasure of his life. You nuzzle his nose with your own and intertwine your pinky with his tiny one in a promise. It's so easy to make him happy, your perfect little baby.

You pepper jihoon with a few more kisses before dropping him off at Suzy's.

Your heart tugs when he starts to cry for you again, but this is your life, you suppose.

You keep your head down the entire way to class, lest you run into Jay and embarrass yourself again. Luckily for you, Jay isn't in his designated seat in the automata class, and you can’t help but breath a sigh of relief.

The relief is tremendously short lived tho, because Lee Heeseung is sprawled on the seat right next to yours in his full glory.

Your cheeks turn red when your eyes meet his cocky ones. He smirks and raises a suggestive brow when you don't make a move to come any closer.

"Do you plan to stand for the entirety of this two hour lecture baby?" He asks, suckling on the pop sickle that he always seems to have somehow. You quickly scan the seats around you, deciding fuck it, and plop onto jay's seat instead. There's no way you will be able to spend two whole hours under Heeseung's lecherous gaze. After last night, you have no idea how to face him. Even on normal days he leaves you extremely flustered and a clumsy mess.

You can feel his gaze burning holes at the back of your head for the entire duration of the lecture. Sometime in the middle of the lesson, a crumpled paper hits the back of your head. You turn around, shooting heeseung an annoyed look. At least you try to look annoyed. The blush is still prominent on your cheekbones so you can only imagine what you look like to him.

He motions his head towards the ball of paper lying near your feet. As much as you want to ignore his shenanigans and focus on the lecture, curiosity always gets the best of you.

You unfold it quickly, tucking it inside your book so that nobody else can catch the words scribbled on it.

"Wait for me in the janitor's closet"

You shoot a defying look towards heeseung and crumple the paper back to land it near his jordans. It's equivalent to you saying "I won't"

Heeseung only grins at you, shooting a wink in your direction, as if to reply

"I know you will"

He has some audacity, you think, as you make your way to the janitor's closet after class. A slave to your desires, you suppose.

A part of you is nervous and ashamed when his 6 feet tall figure enters the limited space of the closet, caging you against the wall. However, the other part of you, the desperate part of you , preens in the attention, almost feeling a sick pride in the fact that you made him cum too. And maybe even harder, if the way he was moaning last night was anything to go by.

His large hands circle your waist , and your breath hitches in your throat when he pulls you closer to himself, his nose touching yours while his hot breaths warm your mouth.

"have sex with me" He says, leaving you speechless, yet again. It's not that he hasn't said those exact same words and even worse things to you before. It's the bluntness that never fails to take you by surprise.

You shake your head, trying to push yourself out of his grasp. He's stubborn tho, and so damn strong, his hold like an iron grip around your body.

"Cmon- he groans in frustration- you can have sex with me on the phone but not in person, how is that fucking fair? "

You whimper when he squeezes the fat of your waist harshly, as if branding your body in his hold. You aren't used to being touched so wantonly, and it makes a sick shiver run down the length of your spine.

"W-we did not have s-sex" you splutter, staring right back into his orbs. His heavy lidded eyes travel down to your lips and he leans in, making you gasp loudly when his pink tongue comes out to taste your lower lip, licking it tentatively. Almost experimental in how he runs it all over your lower plump lip. He pulls away before he can steal your first kiss, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel somewhat disappointed.

"Yes we did have sex. Your tight little pussy came for my fucking cock while you were moaning my name" He supplies cockily, his words sending a wave of heat rushing down between your legs.

He buries his nose in the crook of your neck and presses his body flush into yours, grinding the proof of his desire against your leg.

"Look what you do to me, fuck baby, if you won't let me fuck your cunt, at least take responsibility for your own actions" He grunts into your skin and you can't help the pathetic moan that leaves your mouth.

"H-how" you ask, feeling yourself getting wetter the more that he humps your leg.

Heeseung doesn't reply to you, instead, takes your hand that's clutching his shoulder and presses it against his hard on instead.

"fuck yeahhh" He hisses, apparently craving your touch like a drug.

you're sure your face can't get any redder than this. If it wasn't for his tight hold on your body, your knees would have buckled and given up a while ago. The feeling of a dick underneath your palm is foreign but so arousing, the fact that you did this to him. He’s hard for You.

"Come on baby, squeeze it like you mean it, make me feel fucking good" He hisses, groaning into your neck when you squeeze him softly. The hardness in his jeans seems to get thicker and thicker, it fascinates you.

He ruts his hips into your palm, desperately,trying to chase the delicious friction while he pants into your soft flesh.

"Fuck, it's not enough" He curses, pulling back from you to unbuckle himself.

You bite into your lower lip in arousal and squeeze your thighs to alleviate some of the pressure you feel between your legs.

He looks up into your eyes, licking on his lips as he plays with the band of his boxer briefs. He watches in amusement, the way that your eyes can't seem to focus on one single thing, jumping from here to there, so nervous,so pretty and . God, you're cute.

He takes your hand in his own again and slips it inside his boxers, covering your palm with his own while he uses your soft hand to jerk himself off.

The hot and heavy feel of his leaking length has you whining. That only makes him chuckle and groan. "Mhmmn baby that feels so good"

The wet and messy way in which he uses your palm to stroke his length up and down, it's addicting, your palm feels soft and his whole body shivers when he sees how desperately you're squirming, your eyes wide and glossy. He wants to fucking ruin you.

He presses his body further into yours, taking your earlobe into his mouth, small whimpers falling from his mouth while his movements get faster. Your palm is slick with his precum, it should gross you out but everything is so hot and heavy in the small space.

"Are you wet? Just from feeling my dick? Desperate little thing aren't you? " He muses. You shake your head meekly, averting your gaze from his sweaty face and looking down to observe the rapid movements of your combined hands inside his boxers.

"M'not wet" you mewl, eliciting a mocking laugh from the boy. He trails his kisses down the tempting length of your neck, the touch so sensual, it leaves you gasping.

"I can feel your pretty little body squirming against me you know, makes me wanna force my dick inside you, where will you run if I do? " he asks, biting your collarbone when the slide of his dick gets wetter and squelchier.

His words, instead of scaring you, make an inexplicable heat to ignite your insides. You want him to, you can't believe how bad you want him to act on his desires because you know you don't have the courage to act on your own.

"f-fuck, pretty, moan for me baby, wanna hear you when I cum" He sighs into your neck, nipping at your skin and planting kisses in between his moans.

Hearing his words make you keen and he curses under his breath. The hold of his palm is brutal, your hand hurts but God does it feel good to hear him so desperate and needy, whining so hotly in your ear.

"fuck I'm so close so -ugh god-" His voice fades into a delicious moan and you can feel yourself dripping, your juices running down the length your thighs.

You don't hold back on your sounds, letting small whimpers leave your mouth when he digs his teeth into your skin again.

"Why won't you let me fuck you baby, wanna be the first to get inside your virgin little pussy so bad" He pants, supporting himself with a hand planted beside your head on the wall while he continues to masturbate using your flesh.

It's exhilarating, it's hot, and it's so scandalous.

"H-heeseung! " You moan when he lathers the skin of your neck with his saliva, tasting your skin like his life depends on it.

"Sh-shit" He stutters, the lewd way you cry out his name make his eyes roll back to the back of his head. You gasp when you feel his hot length twitching repeatedly, warm, thick liquid covering your entire palm along with his own.

His hips stutter a few more times inside your hold before stilling, a large sigh of satisfaction leaving his lips.

"Fucking hell baby, you always make me cum so hard" He whispers, chuckling to himself.

He pulls your hand out of his boxers and wipes his hand off on his jeans, while you watch in silence with face turning crimson. He dresses himself and winks at you before walking out of the closet, leaving you standing there with your palm covered in his sticky, gooey cum.

You feel used, but at least you’re useful for something.

To say that you are sick of yourself would be an understatement. You feel violated, but some sick part of you enjoys being desired so wantonly. It turns you on. Heeseung doesn't love you, scratch that, he doesn't even like you but here you are, letting him use your body like some mindless sex toy anytime he damn well pleases. You wonder what that says about you. Sure, he's a jerk, but what are you?

You're lost in thoughts, walking home when a loud honk makes you jump on the sidewalk. You turn towards the car honking at you and come to a halt, facing the very familiar Volkswagen.

There’s no way.

"Come on sweetheart, get inside" Jay grins at you from the inside of his car. You blink at a him a couple of time to really make sure that he's here. After the complete fiasco last night, you really weren't expecting to hear from him so fast. Or at all for that matter.

Nonetheless, he is here, and he's asking you to get inside his car. With your eyes downcast, you crawl towards it and slip inside the passenger seat, playing with your fingers while you avoid looking at him at all costs. He doesn't start the car, but you can feel the weight of his gaze on the side of your face.

"I'm sorry about last night" He begins, and you can't help but look up at him astonished. Why was he sorry? You were the one who royally fucked up.

He smiles at you apologetically and reaches out a hand to caresses your cheek by the back of it. If you weren't mentally screaming, you're sure you would have said something, and assured him that he has nothing to be sorry about.

"I just, I shouldn't have tried to kiss you so fast, at least not without taking you on a date first. it's just that we've been friends for so long, and we both like each other, so it just seemed like the right thing to do" He explains, remorse dripping from his tone. You start to node your head in support of his sentiments when his words click inside your brain.

Wait.

"Y-you like me?" You blurt, cheeks flaming when his gaze falls to your mouth and he traces your bottom lip with his thumb.

"So much that i forgot how to behave" He mutters in a trance, all his attention focused on fiddling with your plump and fleshy lower lip.

You blush at his words and avert your gaze back down to your lap, and he pulls his hand back. You want to whine at the loss of contact, enjoying too much being caressed so softly. When was the last time you were touched so gently?

"Before I try to kiss you again, because I will, you're too pretty to resist- he chuckles, and you try to bite back the smile that's threatening to break free on your face- would you like to go on an aquarium date with me? A little birdy told me that is your dream date" He grins at you, wiggling his eyebrows when you look into his kind eyes, and you let your giggles take over your body. The fact that he remembers your random rant from months ago shoots a giddy feeling through your heart. It feels good being remembered.

"How about tomorrow? Skip college and let me take you out? " He suggests and you nod rapidly, almost detaching your neck from its socket. Jay only laughs at you endearingly, and it makes you blush even more.

He drops you off at the same building as last night again, and both of you are grinning from ear to ear when he drives off. You're sure you catch a few stray looks from the passerbys when they see you beaming and giggling like an idiot as you walk back home with an obvious skip in your step. It’s ridiculous, really, but it feels good to have something to look forward to in a very long time.

You sigh loudly when you remember the promise you made to jihoon this morning. You're mentally calculating the time you have prior to when you need to be at the cafe, when Suzy's door opens before you can even knock on it, and out comes your little brother, bounding, and giggling in a high pitched scream.

You squat down to catch him in your arms before he can collide with your legs.

"Looks like someone missed me" You giggle, hugging the little life close to your body, sighing upon inhaling the familiar scent of his baby powder.

"Missed yew" He mumbles into your throat, his little hands wrapped around your neck, and you can’t help but coo at him in adoration. "Missed you too my baby, y/n loves you so much"

"He has been so excited the entire day, he wouldn't even eat until I told him you'll be mad if he didn't" Suzy tells you, coming out of her house with jihoon's water bottle in her hand. You laugh at her words, and pick your brother up in your arms while he continues to nuzzle into you.

"I'll take him to the park for a bit, I have about an hour before my shift starts" You inform her and she nods at you, running her experienced warm eyes over your face.

"You look happy darling" She notes and you can't help the blush that dusts your cheeks at her words. She apparently notices , cooing at how shy you are all of a sudden.

"is it a boy y/n, yes or no?" She asks, a teasing lilt in her voice and you bite your lower lip, nodding in a giddy manner.

"It is, I have a date tomorrow" you admit, unable to conceal the excitement in your voice. She gasps and pats your head "what a fortunate man he'll be to have someone as amazing as you darling" She whispers, pure emotion shining in her eyes.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat at her words, averting your gaze and mumbling a small thank you. No, you refuse to cry today, you had your fill of indulging in your emotions yesterday.

So, you push her words to the recess of your mind, where you securely encase them in a metaphorical box, stacking it up on a bunch of age old boxes. Emotions that you adamantly refused to confront and deal with, a stance that you still maintain.

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As you sit staring at your wardrobe, a sense of urgency washes over you and you come to two stark realizations.

Firstly, you need to buy more clothes. The sparse collection of garments hanging before you testified to this necessity.

Secondly, and perhaps more pressing, was the acute awareness that none of what you have is remotely suitable for a date.

Jay is supposed to pick you up in a mere hour and you don't have anything to wear. Well, there's a blue halter neck dress that you wore for freshmen party in your first year, which you're sure doesn't fit you now. There's 3 silk pressed shirts which you alternate at your college, a handful of skirts and a scattering of sweaters.

And that's it.

You're about to cry when you feel a wave of panic rising within you. You’re o utterly unprepared for this moment.

As the crushing clarity threatens to overwhelm you, a pang of longing sweeps through you. You wish you had a girlfriend. It's not like you don't have friends, you talk to several people in school, be it for work or just casual chatting , but that's about it. Your relations with other people end as soon as you step out of your university building. Of course, you know that it's your own fault that you don't have anyone in your life, you never really put in the effort to keep up with someone, a casualty of your own reluctance to invest in deeper connections.

Whenever someone tries to delve deeper into your life, you just push back, and you push back hard. You are too consumed with your own life, you suppose. It's not that you have never had any friends either, you have had quite a lot, in fact, you even had a best friend in middle school. Time really changed you as a person though, its not to say that she didn't change either, time changes everyone, but your change had been tangible. You just let everyone go, choosing to stay in your own miserable bubble, blocking all attempts of reaching out or any support that you so desperately needed. Each flicker of friendship extinguished, each bond severed, bore the weight of your own self imposed isolation. You did this to yourself, you weren't a victim of circumstances no matter how much self pity you reserve for yourself. You were the architect of your own solitude, barricading yourself within the confines of your melancholic safety. You tell yourself that it’s better this way, that you don’t need anyone, but how long can you fool yourself?

The halter dress is the only option left for you it seems.

The dress is not tight, but anyone looking at it can tell that it's not made to fit your body either. It's not revealing, but you can't call it modest either, at least by your standards, you don't think you've ever shown so much skin before. The blue one piece ends smack in the middle of your thighs, your chest is covered for the most part, and the long sleeves cover up your arms. If it's not for the unfamiliar sight of your bare legs, everything looks quite normal, you don't look hideous so that's a relief.

You opt for leaving your hairs open, because last time you did that, Jay tried to kiss you.

You wait for Jay at the entrance of your false residence. If he finds it odd that you're already outside, he doesn't comment on it, and you're grateful for that.

"Wow" Jay says as soon as you enter his car “ you look so hot”, making your ears turn bright red.

"T-thank you" you mumble, trying not to be bothered by how blatantly he is ogling at your exposed thighs, or how his eyes linger due to your dress riding upwards when you sit down.

You both make casual conversation during the drive, and it's comfortable, the casual back and forth just like old friends. You can get used to this, you tell yourself.

The aquarium that he takes you to is bigger than your entire university building, so pretty and so enchanting, you almost lose track of time. Ever since you were little, you have dreamed of visiting one, you remember writing the same in one of your introductory papers in second semester, a paper that was discussed in class as well. How jay managed to remember that is beyond you tho. Throughout the date, he keeps you updated on every thing that you come across, and it feels good to have his attention completely focused on you. You almost combust when he takes you to a restaurant after the aquarium date, thoroughly flabbergasted because you've never been on a date before.

The experience is something you will never forget, your first date, the thought makes you feel ecstatic, the wide smile on your face which refuses to go away is a testament to that.

Turns out, your first kiss happens in the same night as well. As soon as Jay parks his car outside your trademark building, he's all over you. He doesn't ask you, he just leans over to you and smashes his lips against yours, tasting your hot mouth eagerly. You don't know what you're doing, your hands are placed awkwardly over his chest while you try to move your lips against his, mimicking his movements to the best of your ability. He doesn't seem bothered by your lack of skills tho, just diving into your mouth with his tongue, one hand cupping your face while with the other, he gropes your thighs.

You push back your discomfort and revel in the feeling of his touch, gasping when he bites into your lower lip. He tastes like the wine you drank at the restaurant and you wonder if you taste the same to him.

The kiss ends too soon for your liking, but, the feeling of his dark eyes and rough hands running all over the length of your body shamelessly, follows you back home.

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You ignore heeseung's calls for the next few days, almost contemplating blocking his number once and for all, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to do it.

Your dates with Jay continue, and you do manage to buy yourself a new dress. You’re doing well for your first relationship, if you can even call it that.

Even though Jay does seem to love kissing you, never in a million did you ever think that you'd find yourself in such a compromising position. However, here you are, sitting on Jay's lap in the middle of class while he eats your face. Yes, he's actually devouring your mouth, tongue buried so deep into your throat that the feeling has you arching your body into him.

What makes the experience more thrilling is the audience you have. Your classmates had collectively gasped when Jay pulled you onto his lap seemingly out of nowhere. But, it isn't them that you are worried about. It's the boy at the back of the class with a perfect scowl etched onto his handsome face as he watches you make out with someone that's not him.

Heeseung looks livid and you wonder why. Is he upset because he thinks you aren't a virgin anymore?

Jay lets you go with a smirk when the professor announces his presence, and you rush to your seat that's right in front of the scowling boy, in a daze. It's actually amazing how he ignores you the entire lecture, something that has never happened before. what's more unsettling is the fact that you are mildly disappointed by that.

You want to ask him what he's upset about, but you aren't able to gather the courage to. As much as heeseung's a constant itch at the back of your head, you remind yourself that you're dating Jay now, so you can't be thinking about other men.

You're dating Jay now. You're dating Jay. You're dating.

None of those sentences sound real to you.

However, the giddy feeling inside your chest dwindles as Jay gets more and more touchy throughout the entire day. You can't tell if it's normal to grope your chest just a few days after you had your first kiss, but you don't want to make him upset again. You don’t like seeing him angry. Besides, isn't this what you always wanted? Someone to want you, someone to love you?

And haven't you let Heeseung do worse things to you anyway? Why haven't you ever felt such discomfort when Heeseung used your body to get himself off? . But the truth is, has Heeseung ever touched you this way? Sure he sends you inappropriate messages that are borderline harassment, sure he used your hand to jerk himself off once, sure he wants your virginity and he has made his intentions clear, but has he ever ventured beneath your clothes before?

He has never groped your body before, not like Jay is doing. Now that you think about it, heeseung has never even kissed you before. Your mind makes countless comparisons between Heeseung and Jay, and you wonder why you do that to yourself. Were you really comparing the guy whose whole purpose of pursuing you was to pop your cherry and wear it like a symbol of achievement, to the boy that likes you and took you to your dream date?

A gasp leaves your throat when jay grabs your ass, smacking it and making you yelp between harsh kisses. You're glad you're in his car and not outside, glad that people aren't there to witness you being touched like this.

"You're so pretty" He whispers in your ear, and so you latch onto his words and overlook his actions.

Now that you have someone who likes you back, do you really want to push him away? Do you want to let your useless self doubt and trust issues stop you from living your life yet again? No.

Thus, you push your discomfort to the back of your mind when his hand travels under your skirt at one point.

"It's normal y/n, don't make a fool of yourself" you chant in your head, trying to enjoy the feeling of being wanted.

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“We never really talk.... There's so much we still don't know about each other" your voice is meek, feeling hesitant to say your thoughts out loud in case you end up upsetting jay; which you seem to be doing a lot, to be honest.

The said boy groans from the seat in front of you where he's busy on his phone, completely facing away from you.

"We know plenty" He quips, not even sparing you a glance, and you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from thinking too much about it. Maybe he just isn't in the mood today? But again, when is he ever in a mood?

All you do is make out, and when things get heated, you always pull away. Then he gets agitated, and doesn't talk to you for days. It fucks with your head, but you go along, and even though you don't feel comfortable, you start letting him touch you more, and even though your body is taut with tension, he never seems to care.

You want to tell him about your brother, want to share the little things you do together and the things that make you happy. You want to ask what his favorite color is.

However, the opportunity never seems to come.

Your mind drifts off to heeseung, and the little notes he used to throw at the back of your head during last semester.

"Do you like roses or lilies?"

"Do you sleep on your stomach or side? "

"Are you going to the town fair?"

You remember ignoring him back then, but now your heart constricts. Even if he was just trying to bother you, those questions were probably the only time someone had tried to get to know you. You don't know what it is about heeseung, but everybody just looks at you, he's the only one who has ever made you feel seen. Maybe in another universe you would push aside your shyness and answer those notes. Maybe in another universe you would throw some notes back at him, asking things that you wanna know.

"I like tulips... But lilies are good too"

"I sleep on my back, sleeping in any other position makes me sore, I don't know why tho"

"I'm not going to the town fair, I have to stay home with my brother, he's really small"

But it's too late now, and you swallow down your words, squash the need to talk to someone, and resort to the heavy silence that is your life.

Heeseung is about to fly off the handle. The sight of you in another man's arms shouldn't bother him this much and yet, it does. The fact that you're ignoring his calls and messages makes him feel slightly insane. It shouldn't be like this. You are just a bet. A pick. Just another name on the list.

Then why the fuck is he this close to smashing jay's annoying face in. It isn't even about your virginity anymore, and that's what bothers him the most.

He hates it, hates that he's so affected by you, but he should have seen it coming,to be honest. With the way he stays up late just to jerk off to your pretty face, no girl has ever drove him this close to insanity before. The lust he feels for you is blinding and all consuming. It burns him, the desire he feels for you scorches him from the inside. It unsettles him how badly you’ve managed to turn him into a slave to your big, doe eyes.

Therefore, when he catches you alone in the classroom after three whole weeks of you ignoring his presence, he just can't help himself. It’s unfair how fucking pretty you look standing near the white board, scribbling something down onto your notebook while trying to setup the projector for your presentation later.

The sound of the classroom door being shut makes you jump, but the reason makes cold dread run inside your chest. Heeseung looks like a predator as he advances on your figure, eyes dark in lust and the vein in his neck throbbing with anger. His hands itch with the desire to touch you, it's been way too long for his liking since he last felt you close.

Before you can say anything or do anything, he's on you. The feeling of his lips against yours is electrifying,it feels like your entire body comes alive at the contact. His kiss is surprisingly slow and more bruising than you've ever been kissed before. His hands wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer to himself, tilting his head to trace your lower lip with his tongue, waiting for you to let him in.

You should push him away but you don't. You can't. Your head is dizzy with a passion you've only ever felt with him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you push yourself closer to his firm body, opening your mouth and letting him tangle his tongue with yours. The moan that leaves your mouth at the feeling makes his slacks tighten, his dick hard and throbbing inside his trousers.

You taste so fucking addicting, Heeseung doesn't wanna stop kissing and tasting your warm mouth.

When he pulls away to breathe, you're both panting heavily, his forehead resting against yours, dark eyes staring into your soul.

"I don't like when someone ignores me y/n" He growls, his voice sharp and hoarse from desire. The feeling of his hard on digging into your stomach makes you squirm.

"I - I have a boyfriend, I shouldn't be talking to you" You manage to let out, biting back another moan when he grinds a bit into you.

Heeseung feels hot rage flash across his chest at your words.

"Oh yeah? He got his dick inside you yet?" He asks, his words making you blanch. How was he always so vulgar?

"That's, that's none of your business" You splutter, looking anywhere but his eyes.

His hold tightens around your waist and he continues to grind his hard on against your soft flesh.

"I'll take that as a no, fuck, still a virgin aren't you baby?" he guesses.

You avoid looking at him and it only spurs him on further, his hold tightens around your body the more that you try to maintain some space.

"What a loser, if I was him, I would have buried myself into that tight little cunt of yours on the first night of our date" He whispers, and for some reason, his words excite you instead of disgusting you. A sick tingle runs down your spine and throbs between your legs.

"H-he's not like you" You quip, looking up into his eyes to get your point across "he doesn't want me for my body, he loves me for me"

Your words seem to make him angry, if the slight clench of his jaw is anything to go by.

He stops moving against you and scoffs.

"Loves you? What do you know about being loved y/n? "

His tone is mocking, and eyes full of unfiltered rage, the words spoken with an intention to hurt. And hurt, they do. You wonder how he knows the exact place to strike to make pain ricochet so wildly inside your ribs.

What do you know about being loved? Nothing, you suppose. How do you recognize love if you have never seen it before? or do you just accept everything that comes to you as love because you don't have any option to? do you just cling onto every act of kindness because of how much you want it to be love?

What do you know about being loved indeed.

Seeing your face fall makes heeseung regret his words almost instantly, the sight of your big eyes blinking up at him so solemnly makes his heart twist uncomfortably. What the fuck?

Before he can apologize, however, your small hands slide down to push against his chest, and he lets you go. He doesn't stop you when you collect your assignment that you'd been working on when he barged in, your gaze downcast and shoulders slumped as if heavy from the weight of his words.

The urge to pull you into his arms hits him as he watches you leave, but he's too much of a coward for that.

Because no matter how much he wants himself to believe it,

You aren't just a name on the list, you never have been.

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The atmosphere feels different today. You took a day off from college just to spend time with Jay, and although it makes you feel guilty that you left jihoon with suzy for the entire day, you can't help but be selfish for once.

All of this feels like a fever dream and you want to enjoy it before your alarm rings and you’re thrust back into the harsh reality once again.

Jay took you back to the aquarium, then you both went to the beach that his dad owned, and you were having so much fun that you just couldn't say no when he asked you to stay the night at his place. "No funny business" He assured.

But that didn't last long.

You whined into his mouth as his rough palms travelled beneath your silky sundress, sundress that he bought for you. "The yellow really suits your skin, wanna kiss you stupid" He had said, leaving you a flustered mess.

"I'm gonna take this off baby" Jay whispers into your mouth, sitting back up and sliding your dress up your legs without waiting for your answer.

You squirm in anxiety and embarrassment when he exposes your panties to his curious eyes. You want to cover yourself, you want to hide, but his firm hold on your waist keeps you down and under his mercy.

He slides your dress further up your stomach and then it happens. Your worst nightmare comes true. His eye brows furrow and you watch in dread as his entire face shuts down.

"Let's turn the lights off" He says, and you don't know what's worse, the way he eyes your body in distaste , or the way he pulls your dress down to cover you up.

"Why? " You manage to ask, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. You know why, you just want to hear it. You want to hear him say it so that your illusion can shatter once and for all.

Jay looks away and sighs, his jaw ticking in frustration "because that's how I like to have sex" He replies, his tone smooth, but you are anything but stupid.

You sit up and bite on your wobbly lower lip, smoothing down your dress on your thighs with shaky hands.

"You don’t like what you saw" You whisper, barely audible, but he hears you alright. His nostrils flare as he finally turns to face you, looking angry and terrifying.

"Do you have to be so damn difficult all the fucking time you stupid bitch? I'm trying not to be mean but you wanna hear how much your body's turning me off to your face? " He grits, hands coming down to grab your thighs and spreading your legs open. A sob escapes your lips at his words and you hit his chest to push him away

"I w-want to go home" You cry, sobbing more when he grunts in anger and slaps your face, pinning you down by your throat while he pushes you down onto your back, and straddles your thighs.

"Wasted so much of my fucking time on you, and now you want to go home? Right when I'm this close to being the first one who's gonna scratch your name off the list? "

Your heart stops at the implication of his words, pure disgust and terror runs through your veins.Your eyes fill up with more tears and you start using your full body strength, squirming and flailing, somehow managing to hit him in the shins with your knee. He howls in pain and rolls off of you , cussing you out.

"Fucking bitch" He growls, but you don't stay or look back, grabbing your phone and running as fast as you can. You hear his footsteps chasing you, but the adrenaline pushes you forward even though your vision is blurry with how much you're crying.

How you managed to open his house's main gate is beyond you, but once you are out in the open, the night air hitting your wet cheeks, that's when you come to a halt. You don't know how far or how long you ran, you don't see any people around, just luxurious houses standing tall, and it makes you sob more. You don't see Jay chasing you down the road so that calms your heart a little, but soon, the gravity of your situation sinks in. You almost got raped.

The thought makes your knees wobble and you unceremoniously collapse onto the sidewalk, your back resting against a cold metal pole. Your hands shake and sobs wrack your entire body, feeling intense pain coursing through your bones.

You were jay's pick too. How could you have been so blind to the signs? Him approaching you out of the blue, just a few weeks after the list got released . if you weren't blinded by your stupid feelings, you would have seen it as clear as day. He wanted your virginity. Just like Heeseung.

He didn't like you as you had deluded yourself into thinking.

The disgust on his face when he saw the stretch marks littering the lining of your stomach, it was so palpable it made you flinch.

Was he going to fuck you just for the sake of winning the game? Is your virginity really all that? But who are you kidding, all this time, you have held onto your virginity so desperately because you know that it's the only thing that makes you desirable, doesn't it? It's the only reason Heeseung wants you, it's the only reason Jay pursued you, what even are you without your virginity? Once you lose it, you'll fade into the background again.

No more delusions. Just plain, cruel reality.

The hurt you feel is something that you brought upon yourself. Did you not know yourself? How could you ever, even for a second, expect someone to love this version of you? When even you can't look at your body without disgust, why did you expect Jay to?

As your sobs quite down and turn into small sniffles, you dial Heeseung's number and let your phone ring. This is it, you think to yourself, heart oddly calm when he picks up on the second ring.

"Hey sweetheart, this is the first time you have called me on y-

"Do you still want to fuck me? " You ask, your voice hoarse and monotonous.

You hear a sudden clatter of something falling down on the other end of the line, like he dropped something, taken off guard by the suddenness of your question.

"I-yeah-i mean what? are you okay baby? " He splutters, and your head throbs, you look around yourself and don't even recognize where you are.

"can you pick me up? I know it's late, but i think I'm lost, you can fuck me as payment, I'm still a virgin" You explain. And somehow, hearing you talk about yourself like a commodity rubs Heeseung the wrong way. What's going on with you? You don't even sound like the y/n he knows.

"Where are you baby? " He asks, and if you didn't know any better, you would say that he sounds concerned.

"I don't know.. there's a beach nearby.... and the area looks expensive, but i can't tell what street-

"send me your location from the maps baby, I'll be right there, just stay where you are " He warns before hanging up.

You want to smack your head against concrete, so much for being an academic weapon, why didn't you think about sharing your location before.

You rub your bare arms to keep yourself warm. Apparently, the dress isn't as warm against the night cold as it seemed to be inside the warmth of the house.

Somehow, this decision feels right. Heeseung has been the only person who has been honest about his intentions with you from the very beginning. Although it was the exact same thing that Jay wanted, but still, it feels right to let Heeseung take your virginity instead of anybody else. You want this miserable fallacy of want and desire to end. And for that, you are going to give away the only thing that makes you special. Sounds like a perfect plan to you.

After what seems like an eternity, a blue Toyota stops right in front of you.

You don't even glance at it twice, just staring blankly at your feet, until you hear the driver's door open, and shoes come into your line of vision. You don't even have a chance to look up before heeseung's gathering you into his arms

"Holy fuck you're freezing baby" He exclaims, picking up your numb body as you cling onto him for life, you can barely feel your legs. Heeseung lays you down in the back seat, and instantly turns the heater on. A cold shiver runs up your spine at the sudden temperature change, your eyes falling shut on their own, and everything around you fades into darkness. You want to sleep a very long sleep.

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Heeseung looks at your body in his back seat, anxiety coiling in his stomach at the sight of you being curled up into a fetus position. Even as he drives, he can't concentrate on anything else, because he's pretty sure he saw a red mark on your left cheek, like someone hit you. Hard.

He's hoping he's wrong, because the rage building up in his chest is inexplicable.

There's dry mascara tracks running down your cheeks so he figures that you must have been crying, and he can't help the sick jolt he feels in his cock at the thought.

The yellow dress you're wearing is riding all the way upto your thighs, and Heeseung can feel his throat getting parched. So much skin. He's never seen you this exposed before. He wants to touch you, wants to run his palm over your smooth skin and kiss you till you're moaning into his mouth , and he wants to take you up on that offer you made on the phone, he wants to see for himself how pretty you look while crying.

He curses himself for having such thoughts when you're clearly not okay, but Heeseung's no saint. He’s never claimed to be one either.

He knows that if you asked him to take your virginity to his face, he will ravage you on the spot, it won't matter that you seem to be in pain. He'll make you forget everything and fill you with pure pleasure the entire night.

He's not a man of morals, and he's never pretended to be one.

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You wake up with a start, breathing heavily while your eyes adjust to the view around you. The unfamiliar soft sheets, the tasteful and expensive decor of the room, it all intimidated you somehow. You called heeseung, that's all that you remember, everything after that is a blur. Is this jay's room? Did he find you again?

Your heart's beating really fast, threatening to give up on you as you look down and see yourself in a white linen shirt instead of the dress that you were wearing instead. What the fuck happened.

You instinctively reach between your legs and it doesn't hurt, your panties are dry and intact. So, this isn't jay's house or clothes. The familiar cologne fills up your senses once you take a whiff of the shirt you're wearing, and it all makes sense. Heeseung.

This is heeseung's house, and his room probably, definitely his shirt. Did he change you out of your dress? Was he as disgusted as jay when he saw the mess that you were underneath your clothes?

You look around yourself and sigh in relief at finding your phone on the bedside table, exhaling the breath that you didn't know you have been holding.

Before you can reach for it tho, the door to the room opens. You pull the sheets closer to your chest when Heeseung peeks in. He seems a little taken aback at seeing you awake and sitting up , looking like he caught you in the middle of doing something.

"Thank god you're up baby, thought you’d die on me" He grins, coming inside and closing the door behind him. Suddenly, the room feels small for just the two of you, your fingers wringing nervously when he takes a seat next to you, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks.

You bite back a pained whimper at the pressure against your left cheek, Jay must have hit you really hard, the skin still sensitive and stinging at the slightest of touch. Heeseung seems to notice your discomfort and removes that hand instantly, choosing to caress the other side of your face instead.

"I need to know that you're okay sweetheart" He says, urging you to speak. But you don't know what you're supposed to say, you aren't okay, obviously, but this is better than everything else so you suppose you are. You choose to nod instead.

He hums and slides more closer to you, forcing you to look into his eyes, his face so close that if you leaned forward just a bit, your lips would collide.

"Do you want to tell me what happened? Who did this to you?" He asks, and you are taken aback by the softness in his touch and words. But you'd be a fool if you fall for that again.

Hence, you take hold of his free hand instead, watching how his eyes immediately fall to your tight grip, watching in rapt attention as you guide his hand under your shirt, and between your legs. Heeseung's eyes instantly darken when his hand comes into contact with your panty clad pussy, a few choice words leaving his mouth when you gasp at his touch.

Fuck. He likes this bold version of you.

His eyes meet yours, and hot arousal pools in his lower stomach at the way you're looking at him, eyes blown out in lust and desperation.

"It doesn't matter" You whisper, inching closer to his face, and planting a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth "just want you to fuck me and show me how good sex can feel"

A deep grunt leaves his chest at your words, and the next thing you know, his hungry mouth is latched on yours, the force of his actions making you hit your back against the bed sheets while he mounts your body, his palm still cupping the centre of your legs. He kisses you like he's been deprived of you for so long. All thoughts of your well being leave his mind, focus locked onto the sinful words you just whispered into his ear. His tongue dives into your mouth and you give him free access, both of you exchanging spit messily. You mewl into his kiss, your body squirming pathetically when he starts rubbing your clit from above your panties, applying just the right amount of pleasure to leave you gasping.

You're just about to thread your fingers in his silky strands when the familiar ringtone of your phone makes you jolt. He ignores the sound like he can't even hear it, tongue too busy sucking yours, the movement of his thumb getting faster and harder.

You can't ignore the sound tho, there aren't many people who call you. So, when your phone rings for the second time, you know it's important. You push against his chest, and he pulls away, panting heavily while he stares at you, brows furrowed in confusion.

You swallow the spit pooling in your mouth as you watch him gathering your saliva coating his lips and sucking it into his own. How does he make everything seem so hot and nasty?

"Sorry, i- i have to take that" you whisper, motioning towards your blaring phone. Heeseung grabs it from the nightstand and hands it over to you instantly "make it fast baby" He grunts, retreating his hand from between your legs and settling on groping the soft flesh of your thighs instead.

You nod, and curse when you see Suzy's name. Fuck. Fuck. You never thought about informing her of your whereabouts. She must have been waiting for you. Jihoon must be waiting for you. With an apology on the top of your tongue, you swipe right.

"Hey suzy, I'm sorr-

"Y/n, your dad is back and you need to come back right now" Her terrified voice cuts you off. Panic takes hold of your spine, and you instinctively get out of the bed, standing up to calm down your heart. You can feel heeseung's inquisitive gaze on you, but you can't be bothered with keeping up appearances right now.

"What do u mean? Why do u sound scared?" You ask her, tears gathering at your waterline, because as much as you want to stay calm, the terror grips hold of your heart. It’s never good when your dad is back.

There's some shuffling on the other side, and your heart drops when you recognize jihoon's sobs, and Suzy's coos trying to shush him down.

"What's going on?!" you can't help but raise your voice, even though it quivers.

"Listen y/n, I think he came back a few hours ago, but when he didn't find you at home he came banging on my door, asking me where you were. And he was drunk out of his mind, but he heard jihoon's voice and now he is not leaving. He keeps banging on the windows, and asking for his son, I don't know what to do. I kept calling you, and you didn't pick up. I'm going to call the police, but jihoon is not my child y/n, you have to come back right now" More shuffling, and a loud thudding sound cuts the call off, making your heart beat out of your chest.

"Suzy??, suzy?!" No response. You look around in panic, meeting Heeseung's worried eyes.

"Pants, can you lend me some pants please" you ask him, tears dripping down your face. You're panicking so hard right now, your fingers feel numb. Heeseung scrambles to his feet immediately, and noticing your shaking hands, he helps you inside them himself, folding them so they don’t restrict your movement.

"Thank you, can you- you fret- can you please, please drop me to my house. I know I promised I'd let you fuck me but I really need-

His soft lips interrupt your rant while he kisses you tenderly and cups your face, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumbs "address, baby"

And this time, you tell him your real one.

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You keep dialing Suzy's number the entire ride home but she doesn't pick up. If Heeseung hears you quietly sobbing, he doesn't mention it. You guide him to your house, and are thankful for the distraction his fingers provide as he draws random patterns on your thigh with his free hand.

You don't believe in God, you never have, but somehow , in this moment, you pray to whatever power is out there, if there is any, to keep your brother safe. You don't care about anything else. Just keep your little love safe.

Heeseung doesn't make small talk, doesn't ask questions, and you find that so comforting, it makes you wanna sob your heart out in his car.

The way he doesn’t look even slightly disgruntled by the state of your house or your neighborhood makes you want to tell him all about that you've been going through while he says nothing at all. It's been so long since someone listened to you, you know, just for the sake of listening, to take some burden off of your heavy heart.

You don't question it when heeseung gets out of his car with you, letting him follow you to Suzy's house. You don't even trust heeseung like that, but knowing that he's right behind gives you a silent strength.

Your dad's slumped on the front porch, one baseball bat clutched in one hand, and rubbing his face with the other. To say that he disgusts you, would be an understatement. How could you have ever loved this man? You haven't seen your father in so long, he got lost behind the violent person with red raging eyes a very long time ago. This man in front of you isn't your dad.

His bleary eyes fall on you, and he instantly stumbles onto his feet, pointing the bat at you.

"Where have you been you little whore" He hisses, his red eyes looking at you in pure hatred.

"What do you want dad?" You ask, fighting away any shakiness that manages to creeps into your words. Your heart is beating fast, you need to make sure that jihoon is safe, but the lack of noise from inside the house scares you.

"Where's my money?" He demands gruffly, taking a few steps towards you. You don't stumble back like you usually do, trying to hold your ground.

"There's no money dad, there's nothing for you here" You quip. Your words seem to anger him more, his nostrils flare, and he points the bat at the house "bring that little bitch out, I know you're hiding him inside, if you won't make me money, he will" He spits, and you can't believe your ears, hot tears dribble down your cheeks, blurring your vision of him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?? Have you got no amount of shame left in you? "

A yelp resounds from your throat when your father grabs hold of your wrist all of a sudden, pulling you close, boring his threatening eyes into yours. You wince at the smell of alcohol on his breath.

"The fuck did you just say to me you little slut- he twists your arm, making you cry out in pain, you try pulling yourself away but he only tightens his hold on your arm- do u want me to break your ribs like I did with your whore moth- it all happens so fast, the grip on your arm loosens, a scream rips through the air, your dad falls to the ground. And then there's silence.

You stare in disbelief at the boy straddling over your dad's unconscious body, wiping his bloody knuckles on his jeans. He punches your dad's face twice more, then kicks him to roll him over while he stands back up.

At that point he turns to you, and you start sobbing. Heeseung is about to open his mouth to apologize for punching your dad unconscious, panicking that he did something wrong when you're pulling him into you, smashing your lips against his, kissing him with all that you've got.

Heeseung is taken aback, his eyes widening when your taste invades his mouth, but he recovers almost instantly and pulls you close to his body, kissing you back just as hard. The kiss is wet and salty because of how much you're crying, but he couldn't care less.

You're both breathing heavily when you pull apart, eyes widening when you hear Suzy's door click open. Jihoon!

You leave Heeseung standing on the porch, running to suzy when she comes outside "jihoon?" you question, your voice out of breath.

She glances at Heeseung, and then at your dad, before looking back at you.

"He fell asleep while crying, I think he got one of his seizures y/n, all the shouting really scared him" she explains, and you cup your mouth, more tears prick your eyes, feeling your heart break all over again.

It's been years since your brother got his last seizure attack because of trauma triggers. You have managed to keep him away from all his triggers, except this time. All because you were selfish, and wanted to stay the night away. Your life has to be one long, never ending sick joke.

"where's he?" you ask, your voice feeble, you're afraid you'll start screaming if you aren't careful.

"In the spare bedroom, go, I'll take care of him" She says, motioning towards your dad.

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The time span between carrying your brother home to tuck his sleeping figure inside his buzz Light year sheets, while suzy takes care of informing the police and calling the ambulance for your unconscious, and injured dad is a blur for you.

Heeseung doesn't get in trouble because you vouch for the attack being in self defense, your dad's history of abuse and drinking helps your case.

After all cars are gone, and you finally breathe a sigh of relief, you realize that Heeseung is still here. Your heart feels full when you look at his unruly appearance, and you don't want to admit the yearning you feel for him right at this moment. He's the first person besides suzy to witness the shit show that is your life, and you wonder why isn't gone yet.

And then you remember. Right, your virginity. How can you forget.

You find him leaning against your kitchen counter, hands in pocket as he waits for you. He looks so out of place standing in your small kitchen, the light bulb swinging above his head makes his skin glow, and you can't help but be attracted towards him like a moth drawn to the flame. His eyes find yours as soon as you round the corner to your kitchen, and they stay. This look is different.

He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

You take tentative steps towards his figure, fiddling with the long sleeves of his shirt that you're wearing. You don't even get to open your mouth before he's pulling you closer to him, his one hand wrapping around your waist while he cups your cheek with the other, swallowing the gasp that escapes your lips at the sudden touch.

He kisses you like you're the air that he breathes, his tongue dipping and tasting all crevices of your warm mouth. You fist the shirt on his chest, and tilt your head to deepen the kiss, whining into his famished mouth.

The kiss is everything you've ever wanted. It's not rushed, but it's needy. The passion dripping from his lips renders you boneless, and you lean further into him. The exhaustion seeping inside your bones seems to get heavy with each languid stroke of his tongue, and you don't realize when the tears start falling down your cheeks. He doesn't pull back tho, just trails his kisses upto your face, swallowing your tears as he pulls you flush to his body, dissipating any ounce of space that was left between you two.

When you pull apart, your mouths are connected by a string of saliva, hot pants escaping your chests. He rests his forehead against yours, and caresses your face by the back of his hand, cooing when you bite your lower lip to stop the tears from falling again.

You're exhausted. You're dead tired and his touch seems to be your undoing, setting all your emotions free, the severity of all the events that happened in the last twelve hours hitting you all at once.

"Let me fuck your pain away, baby" He whispers, and in that moment, you can't seem to resist falling into the familiar comfort of delusion. You know that once you let him fuck you, he'll lose interest, but you need it now. You want to bask in his affection and call it love. You want to experience feeling loved and wanted before it's inevitably snatched away from you.

"fuck me" you whisper back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders when he groans and leans into your mouth again. Heeseung feels like a fucking jerk, but seeing you so helpless, and in dire need of his touch makes him delirious.

This is a new feeling. This desire to be needed by you.

He would not admit it to you, but he relishes in the fact that you're alone, and in so much pain. It makes it easier for him to show you how much you need him. He wants you to keep him, crave him like he does you.

You gasp into his mouth when he hoists you up into his arms, your tiny figure melting into his touch. He loves it, loves how easy you are.

He might be taking advantage of your pain and vulnerability, but he only wants you to want him just as badly as every bone in his body wants you.

Your back hits the couch, and you stare up at him with wide eyes as he hovers over you, a lustful glint in them that drives him nuts. Your hands bunch up the shirt on his chest, and you pull him back into you again, not getting enough of his lips on yours.

You love how dizzy his touches are making you, your body arching into him when he gropes your curves, his hands all over you.

"Wanna see you naked" He whispers, and your heart plummets into your stomach. A sinking feeling beginning to form a pit inside your chest. No, it can't be happening again.

He must see the hesitance on your face, because he's caressing your cheek again, so softly and so gently, you almost mistake it for genuine care, but you know better.

"What is it?" He asks, planting few pecks on your pouty and swollen lips.

You twiddle with the button of his shirt, and avoid eye contact.

"C-can we turn the lights off? looking at me might turn you off" you manage to mumble, the words burning your throat on their way out .However, you're done lying to yourself.

Heeseung doesn't say anything, and you peek up to see his face. He is looking at you like you've grown two heads. It makes you feel self conscious, your ears burning in humiliation, feeling like you ruined the mood already.

"You're beautiful" He blurts, eyes still fixed on you in disbelief, he can't fathom you thinking such a thing about yourself. Him? Getting turned off by you? He has not heard a more ridiculous thing in his life before.

Your eyes snap up to him at his words and you furrow your brows in irritation.

"You don't have to lie to get inside my pants I al-"

"I've jerked off to your face" He cuts you off. Your mouth splutters like a fish as you blink up at him, trying to process his words.

He's still staring at you, eyes dark and deep.

"Jerked off just to your face. Not even your body. you're so beautiful I get hard by the mere thought of you"

You don't know whether to laugh or cry. Only Heeseung can say such things and make them feel like a compliment. You can't help the giggle that escapes your lips, and you hide your face into your hands.

"God, you're unbelievable" you groan between your giggles, unknown to the fact that heeseung's currently losing his damn mind on top of you. In that moment he realises, that he's never made you laugh before. You have never looked up at him and giggled before. The sound shoots straight to his hardening cock and spreads a warm feeling inside of his chest. He can't believe how overwhelming this sudden emotion is, and he isn’t sure where this sudden influx of affection for you is coming from. However, there’s one thing heeseung’s sure about, and it’s the fact that he loves this sight more than he loves to see you crying. And that's saying a lot.

He swallows thickly when you remove your hands from in front of your face, and smile up at him, chewing on your lower lip as the blush on your cheeks darkens

"This might be most romantic thing someone has ever said to me" you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck again.

Heeseung leans down to press soft kisses to your jaw, preventing you from seeing the softness in his eyes. He trails his kisses down towards your neck, loving the way your breath hitches.

"Do you wanna hear the other romantic things I have to say about you?" He asks, mouthing at your collarbone, and you whine when he digs his teeth into your soft skin.

"Y-yeah" you mewl, your body squirming as he squeezes your ass in one hand while he supports himself over you with the other.

His hand travels inside your (his) shirt, touching your skin, caressing it. You bite on your lower lip, eyes fluttering when he reaches your bra covered breasts. Your nipples are already hard and pebbled, and you moan loudly when he pinches them.

"fuck" He groans, your erotic sounds making him leak inside his jeans.

He mouths hotly at the hollow of your neck, and squeezes your boobs harshly, making you cry out again. Fuck, he loves playing with your body like this.

You tangle your fingers inside his hairs, your toes curling at the attention he's giving to your chest.

Heeseung sits up to unbutton your shirt, manhandling your body to take it off of you in a lust driven frenzy. As soon as it’s off of your body, he instantly goes back to squeezing your soft flesh again, watching with dark eyes how your soft skin turns red in his hold.

"Ah-heeseung" you whimper, feeling exposed at how he greedily drinks in your uncovered skin.

He unbuttons your (his) jeans, and slides them off of your legs in one go, discarding them on the floor. He bites his lower lip, his eyes running across your uncovered body, and he can feel how hard and heavy he is inside his jeans. He fights the urge to squeeze his junk when you bite on your finger, doe eyes staring up at him, your body squirming as he gropes you.

You're so naively sexy, your innocence drives him batshit insane.

"I almost jerked off to you while changing your clothes you know? you just looked too fucking sexy to resist" He grunts, his fingers running over your stretch marks. Before you have a chance to feel self conscious about the fact that he's seen your body before, or feel apprehensive about his touch on your stretch marks, he leans down to kiss them. You gasp when he runs his hot tongue over them, kissing and licking like he can't help it. He traces your panty line with the tip of his tongue, hands groping your thighs mercilessly.

He's so close to your pussy, and your face burns.

"H-heeseung" You squeak out, and the boy instantly climbs up your body to come face to face with you, pecking you softly as he hums.

"I-i haven't shaved" you tell him shyly, your ears heating up in embarrassment. But you need to tell him now before he recoils in disgust later.

What you don't expect is the way he chuckles, leaning down to nibble on your cheek while his hand cups your breast again, squeezing and groping.

"you worry about the things that don't even cross my mind baby- he pecks your nose and stares into your eyes- you think I'll care about some hairs when your warm pussy is right there? that I'll be able to think about anything other than sucking and fucking when my dick's about to fall off?"

Your face is so hot you can feel the heat radiating off of you. Though his words are vulgar, and so obscene, they do placate your worries for a bit.

Keyword : a bit.

You're still apprehensive about him being down there. What if you smell bad? and taste even worse?

You gasp when he roughly pulls your boobs out of your bra cups, and takes one in his wet mouth. You tug on his hairs, and moan when he bites your nipple too harshly, the sensation making you arch your back into his mouth.

You don't notice when his hand travels between your legs, but a deep whine falls from your lips when he runs a finger over your panty clad slit.

"you're fucking dripping baby" He groans into your flesh that he still has in his mouth, sucking and biting both of your boobs till they sting.

You try to close your thighs around his hand but he tsks in faux disappointment, and parts them again, trailing his kisses down towards your centre, leaving no portion of your skin unmarked.

He kisses your pussy from above your panties, slurpimg your wetness through the sheer material, burying his nose into your slit.

"fuck baby, taste so good" he groans, rubbing his nose in your wetness, tracing the outline of your pussy with his mouth. You bite your finger, and squirm in his touch, feeling yourself dripping more.

He trails his kisses down to your inner thighs, making you squeal when he digs his teeth into your sensitive flesh. He chuckles into your skin, and does the same to your other thigh. He seems to be enjoying this more than you are. He leaves more bites marks up your leg before burying his face between your legs again, making your thighs close around his head.

The action makes something in him snap, and heeseung sits up on his hunches, stares straight into your eyes while he licks his lips for your juices, and starts sliding your panties down your smooth legs.

“want you in my mouth before we fuck”

Your breath hitches when his heavy lidded eyes snap down to your nakedness, and he closes his eyes to groan.

"shit" He curses, parts your legs open, and dives straight between your legs, not even bothering to take off your panties all the way off as it hangs on your ankle obscenely. He sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth,and you moan so loudly it has you slapping your palm over your own. The overwhelming sensation makes your eyes roll back, only ever feeling your own fingers down there, it's a heady feeling to feel someone else.

You tangle your fingers in his hairs, tugging harshly when he slurps your wetness, parting your pussy open with his fingers,and thrusting his tongue inside your virgin hole,running it all over your vulva like a starved man.

You thrash in his hold, a shiver running down your spine when his nose bumps your clit, and he starts applying pressure, rubbing it back and forth. The obscene squelch that you can hear from between your legs has your face burning, you can't believe how wet you are. You aren't ready for the sudden feeling of his finger sliding inside your pussy, and you scream. Heeseung looks up at you from between your legs, and increases his movement, eyes dark as they watch you lose yourself to pleasure.

"How does that feel? " He asks, voice so deep it makes your pussy throb.

You moan, and nod your head rapidly "s-so good" you whimper when he dives down to suck on your clit again. The combined feeling of his fingers and mouth pushes you closer to your orgasm.

"Yeah baby? Your pussy's so tight, can't wait to get in there, wanna feel good too" He groans, thrusting a second finger inside your warm cavity, and probing inside your gummy walls in come hither motion that makes you mewl.

"So wet" He mumbles, licking into your pussy again. And God do you taste addicting, heeseung can spend the whole day buried in between your legs if you would give him a chance. The way your walls flutter around his fingers has him leaking copious amount of precum in his jeans, and he has never been so turned on before.

"pleasee" You moan, and he's crawling up to you again, his lips capturing yours and you can taste yourself on his tongue. He fucks you with his fingers rapidly, lust filled eyes watching in rapt attention at how your eyes flutter shut, and your body arches into him, so ready to getting lost in pleasure.

He curses under his breath as he watches how you grind your hips on his fingers, trying to chase the pleasure they’re giving you

"yeah? Gonna cum and make a mess baby? " He asks into your mouth, swallowing your moan, and licking the drool escaping your lips.

You nod your head and dig your nails into his neck, holding onto him for your life. Heeseung ruts his hard on against your thigh as he watches you come undone on his fingers alone, moaning his name unintelligibly. Watching you cum is the hottest thing he’s ever seen, he decides.

"Cum on me, make yourself feel good" he sighs, the pleasure filled expression on your face has him close to cumming untouched. You gyrate your hips while his fingers get covered in your juices, drenching his palm as he helps you ride out your orgasm. You sigh out in relief, coming down from your high, your hold loosens on his neck and you squirm while you watch him sucking his fingers, tasting your juices. It's so hot, you don't even realize when you lean in. His lips meet yours and you moan upon tasting your cum, sucking on his tongue like he sucks yours.

"Made you feel so good yeah?" He asks, his voice hoarse in desire, and you nod, pushing yourself into him again. He wraps his arms around your body, and unhooks your bra, finally taking it off of your body, and discarding it somewhere.

"My turn" He grunts.

You rub your thighs together while he unbuckles his belt, ogling your naked body like a pervert. Your eyes widen when he pulls his boxers down unceremoniously, just enough to let his dick flop out.

It's bigger in person,even bigger than you remember while touching him and you whine. There's no way that can fit inside you. His eyes darken as he strokes his cock, fisting it to the sight of your naked body lying so helplessly, ready for the taking. And God does he want to take you.

If you weren't a virgin, he would have been pounding your hole by now, but as much as he's impatient, he wants to make this experience good for you too.

You're sucking on your finger again, your eyes fixed on how he moves his palm up and down his shaft, the real life version makes you drip more than the video he sent did.

Heeseung hovers over your body again, and grabs your hand, pulling out your finger from your mouth. "No hiding your sounds from me, wanna hear you loud and clear while I fuck you stupid" He growls, and you squirm under his gaze.

You yelp when you feel him running his dickhead against your slick pussy, wetting it in your juices for a smooth slide. You dig your nails into his shoulders, staring up at him with your big doe eyes as you utter the words which make Heeseung finally snap.

"p-please don't make it hurt" your voice is the sweetest thing he's ever heard, and God, does he want to hurt you. He wants to roughly push himself inside till there's nothing but tears of pain and pleasure running down your pretty face. He wants to make you scream, and show you how pain only heightens the pleasure.

You're so naive, looking up at him, trusting him, but heeseung is lost in his dark desires and pushes in without a warning. You turn him on so badly. You scream at the way his length bullies itself inside your tight hole, scraping against your walls and your body feels like it's being split in half. Tears blur your vision and you push against his chest, sobbing through the pain that makes you want to run away. It's too much.

"h-hurts please-oh-" his hips push inside and then he's balls deep into you, groaning in satisfaction while you scream again. The feeling of your hymen tearing apart makes you sob uncontrollably, and you try to angle your hips away from him. He doesn’t fit, he’s gonna tear you apart.

Heeseung holds your hips in his bruising grip, and starts moving in and out. He's too damn turned on to think about anything else other than how good your virgin pussy feels around his dick. "Stay still baby, let me feel good" He grunts, pulling out of your hole to the hilt, and then pushing inside again. In and out. In and out. His hot pants fall onto your wet cheeks. Heeseung reaches down to rub on your clit, relishing in the wet warmth of your pussy. It feels more pleasurable for him when you start getting impossibly wet. Soon enough, Your pain filled sobs start to subside, and pleasure filled sobs start to leave your lips instead.

That's when he starts fucking in earnest. Once he hears you moan in pleasure, heeseung lets go of all his inhibitions, and straight up pounds into you.

"Fuck yeah baby, so fucking tight for me" he groans, snapping his hips against you at a rapid pace. His balls smack against your ass every time he pushes in, and the skin slapping sounds make your head throb in pleasure.

You didn't know sex could feel so good. "Heeseung please, oh my god" You moan when his dick rubs against your sweet spot, his hot pants fall on your mouth while he slots his lips against yours in imitation of a kiss

"Yeah? Just like that?" He asks, his own eyes rolling back when you clench around him. So deliciously tight.

The slide inside is so deep and so wet, it makes his hips pick up speed.

"Warm little cunt, waited so long to get inside" he groans, biting on your lower lip, and grinding his pelvis against yours.

The sheer ecstasy running through your veins at the way his cock makes out with your cervix, makes you thrust up your hips against him. You buck into his hold, pressing your body closer, rubbing your chest against his clothed one. It's then that you realize that he's still wearing clothes.

Heeseung curses under his breath when you whine and tug at his shirt.

"You wanna feel me naked baby?" he asks, running his hands over your curves as he pounds into your warm hole. It's too good to stop.

You nod and tug on his shirt again, trying to get closer to him.

"Fuck" Heeseung mutters, and sits back on his hunches, his hips still grind into you while he strips himself off of his clothes. He pulls himself out of you for a split second to discard his jeans and boxers on the floor, then he's thrusting into you again.

"This is so much fucking better" He moans, loving how your naked body arches into his own, rubbing yourself against him so desperately. The delicious friction of your grinding sexes makes you both delirious in pleasure. Heeseung digs his fingers into the fat of your waist, and buries his face inside the crook of your neck, kissing and moaning along it while his thrusts become merciless. You dig your nails into his shoulders, and throw your head back, exposing more skin for him to dig his teeth into. The obscene way your naked bodies buck and thrust against each other to reach pleasure high is a sight to behold. The skin slapping, and wet squelching sounds fill up the space between your heated bodies, and you never want this feeling to stop.

"tight fucking cunt, so good, wanna keep fucking till my dick aches" His filthy words travel deep inside your core, and warmth spreads inside your womb, the knot starting to form in your stomach.

"oh my god" You moan when he slows his hips into a slow grind, hitting all the right spots inside your swollen pussy.

"Yeah? fuck yourself on my dick like a slut, grind your virgin little pussy on my meat" He growls, coming up to capture your lips in his own, groaning into your mouth when you dig your nails painfully inside his flesh, enough to draw blood.

The sweat drips down your bodies, as you rut against each other in pure pleasure. You moan into heeseungs mouth as he languidly licks against your open cavity, sucking on your tongue, and exchanging spit.

The pace of his thrusts fasten, and he pounds you into the couch, fucking into you like his life depends on it. Your words are reduced to mere moans and babbles, your tongue lolling out at how good he feels.

"gonna cum inside this cunt baby, gonna let me fill you up right? flood your insides with my fuck cream?" You nod in a lust filled haze, and heeseung licks the saliva that pools in the corner of your mouth.

" Yeah? Real deep baby? Fuck-so fucking good Jesus" He growls, his spit and sweat falling into your mouth as he starts rutting into you like an animal. He can feel himself getting closer. the knot in your stomach snaps when he presses his palm into your lower stomach to trace his outline. You gasp into his mouth, and your body convulses uncontrollably.

"Fuck yeah, god you're gonna make me cum, god im- his hips grind a few times inside your pussy, and then he's stilling inside of you, the tight clench of your pussy pushing him over the edge, shooting his thick cum inside your womb.

It feels so good that Heeseung keeps moving inside you till you whine and cry out in overstimulation. You're grateful when he listens, and pulls out, but the very next second, he's getting down there and burying his face between your legs again, slurping your combined juices from your pussy. Your toes curl at the feeling, and you can't help but open your mouth when he comes up to slot his cum filled one against yours. It's nasty, but you can't stop licking into him, tasting your mixed release together.

"Fuck, you're nasty" He chuckles, finally turning your body around, and wrapping you into his embrace.

For the first time in your life, you fall asleep nuzzled into a warm and comforting body against you.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Heeseung has always prided himself in the fact that he doesn’t get attached to people easily, doesn’t feel certain emotions until he allows himself to. He’s not a good person, he’s always known this, that’s the reason why he has always kept himself at a distance.

Watching. Observing.

Nothing in his life is unpredictable, heeseung works according to the plan, always predicting and preparing himself for situations that can happen. That’s just how he operates.

Watching. Observing. Executing.

You, however, caught him off guard. Heeseung was never ready for you to barge in his life the way that you did.

You think you know him from third semester but heeseung knows you from way before that. The first time he’d seen you was on the very first day of college, waiting right outside the registrar office, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you stepped aside for people to pass.

There was something about you that stuck with Heeseung. He couldn't figure out what it was no matter how much he thought about it but you soon became a constant itch at the back of his mind.

It wasn't like you were strikingly pretty. Heeseung had been surrounded by beautiful women all his life. Almost desensitized to extravagant beauty. It all seemed vague to him.

You were not extraordinarily pretty, no.

But you were enchanting. it was the type of pretty that stuck with you, that stayed with you, the type of pretty that might not capture your attention in the first glance but the second or third glance might have you hooked; the type of pretty that was made up of hesitant smiles and solemn gazes and fidgeting hands.

Heeseung watched you from afar for a long time, observing, learning. That was until he saw an opportunity to be in the same lecture as you. That’s when he started executing.

And then you made him fail. At his own game.

Heeseung’s sickness identified and craved yours, rendering him powerless when he realized that maybe,you were even sicker than him, a thousand times more depraved. You just didn’t know it yet.

He didn’t realize when you became the very thing he breathes, carving yourself a home inside the darkest parts of his heart.

Ever since he fucked you into your sheets, his craving for you has increased tenfold. He is way past pretending that you are some stupid bet, or a mere name on the list. Seeing you vulnerable, and yet so strong , made something shift in him. He's always been sick in desire for you, but over the past few months, you have managed to infiltrate your way inside his brain.

"How's the mission " Cherries to pop" going for you man?" Jake's voice interrupts his thoughts, and he doesn't have to think twice about his answer, eyes fixated on your slumped figure as he replies

"Take her off the list, I won"

Numerous gasps are heard around him, sunghoon laughs in shock, eyes meeting Jake's in disbelief "you can't be serious, was she any good? " He asks, nervousness creeping in his voice, because heeseung does look serious.

Heeseung turns his eyes towards sunghoon, face void of any recognizable emotion

"the bet's over. I don't want to talk about it, but if I see any of you fuckers around her after this, it's going to get bloody " He warns, sweeping his eyes over the shocked faces of the boys around him. And with that, you are taken off the list forever.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

You hear the whispers, you aren't deaf, but something inside you disassociated when you woke up in the evening after losing your virginity. Cold and alone.

Heeseung had cleaned your body and clothed it before he left, but not having him near stung more than you ever thought it would. It was to be expected tho, wasn’t it? He got what he wanted, there was no reason to stay.

"can't believe heeseung really did it"

"Man, she doesn't look like she must have been a good fuck"

"A win is a win"

You don't dare look up the entire day, ignoring all the folded papers that fall beside your leg. Curiosity doesn't get the better of you, and you don't pick them up to read what's inside. It just doesn't seem to matter anymore. All this buzz will die down in a week, and you will finally resort back to the dark corners, and shadows where people will no longer look at you, just past you.

You don't dread the reality of your situation anymore, a small sigh leaving your lips as you gather your stuff, and walk past the inquisitive stares.

Settling down at the farthest seat in the cafeteria gives you a sense of relief. This seat has been your safe space through all ups and down. The only constant in the chaos of your existence.

You're busy swirling your food around the plate when a sudden quiet falls over the cafeteria. All the chitter chatter and noise dies down. It's almost eerie. Eerie enough to finally make you look up to see what's wrong. Your eyes turn towards the entrance as you follow everyone's collective gaze, and what you see makes your heart plummet in your stomach.

It's Jay. But he's wearing a cap, his head slumped down as he makes his way towards his seat with an obvious limp, but it doesn't hide the black and blue wound blossoming around his left eye, several deep cuts on his lower lip, and scratches on his cheek. The high neck he's wearing sticks out like a sore thumb in mid July, and you wonder if there's more that he's trying to hide. You don't have to worry about facing him, looks like he's not going to be looking up anytime soon.

Realization sets inside your throat like a lump, and you instinctively snap your gaze towards heeseung's table. His eyes are already on you when you find him. They're dark, and tender, if that's even possible. You feel like you're drowning in them. Your throat feels full, and your eyes burn the more that you look at him, and you can't help but follow your instinct to get out of here as soon as possible. It's too much. This sudden influx of emotion is too much for you.

Murmurs follow your leave, but you don't stay behind to hear or care. Your steps are heavy and purposeful as you stride forward, away from everyone and everything. This feels like a fever dream. Why the fuck would Heeseung do that? Scratch that, how the fuck did he even find out?

But you know exactly how he found out. The location that you shared. It isn’t rocket science to figure out who lives nearby. Of course he knows. What confuses you is the fact that he cared enough to look it up and avenge you in his own sick way.Why does he even care?

You can feel a breakdown coming, and so without wasting time, you rush home in a frenzy. By the time you reach your threshold, your throat hurts, the tonsils burning in pain. Your body is begging for you to let it out, but you're a slave to your habits. Holding everything inside until it chokes your airway.

You're tapping your leg frantically as you stir a spoon haphazardly in your coffee cup, swallowing down copious amounts of caffeine to push back the inevitable. You hate breakdowns, hate feeling so out of control and vulnerable. It shatters your facade, makes you come face to face with the pretty lies that you tell yourself.

"It's going to be fine, you're fine"

But are you?

A loud honking in your front yard makes you drop your cup, spilling all of its contents on your shoes, jumping back as you get startled out of your mind.

Who the fuck?

You step over the mess and make your way to your front door, watching in disbelief as Heeseung's car idles in front of you. He's looking right at you from his window, and you wonder what is it about his eyes. There's something about his eyes and the way he looks at you. It makes you feel naked. Body and soul. It seems like he looks right through you, and you don't know if you like that.

Your feet move on their own and he doesn’t even have to say anything. In no time, you find yourself sitting inside his car, your back against the expensive leather seats, while you play with the stray threads of your blouse.

"What do you want now?" you ask, deciding to break the silence. It's only fair to stop beating around the bush and get this over with. Whatever this is.

"You" He answers almost immediately, making you scoff. You don't look at him but you can feel his gaze burning into you.

"I'm not a virgin anymore Heeseung, you won, there’s nothing more that I can offer you" Your voice feels scratchy against your throat, and you wonder if it's because of the tears you keep pushing back.

There's a heavy pause of silence, and then you hear him chuckle, almost in pity and contempt.

"You don't get it do you?" He asks, voice laced with disbelief.

When you don't look up, and don't respond, he laughs hollowly.

"Ask me why I did that" He says, his tone a tad bit deeper now. It's a demand. "Ask me why I smashed pretty boy's face in"

You swallow the lump in your throat, and close your eyes. Not now please.

"Why" you whisper ask, almost inaudible if it wasn't for the pin drop silence in the car.

"because it gave me a sick satisfaction to see him in pain. I'm not sorry about how your old man ended up either. If I could, I would shoot both of their skulls open for putting their hands on you"

The anger and pure hatred in his voice makes a sob to rip through your chest, eyes finally snapping up to meet his. They're dark in anger, and disdain, and you wonder why he cares so much. You look over to his wounded knuckles which are turning white due to how tightly he’s gripping onto the steering wheel. The sight of his anger mirroring your own ignites a spark of recognition deep within you. The raw intensity of emotion emanating from Heeseung stirs something inside your vacant soul. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you feel seen. Validated. All this time, you had told yourself that you got what you deserve. You were fundamentally flawed, and all of this pain was your own fault.You never allowed yourself to be angry, burying the rage beneath your stoic facade, but seeing Heeseung angry for you makes your own walls crumble one by one.

"I want to cut open anyone who's ever hurt you baby, I want to be the only one who gets to hurt you" He declares.

You gape at him while tears run down the slope of your cheeks

"that's-that's not normal" you whisper, but his expressions don't crack, eyes wide and pupils dilated. In this moment, he looks insane, and it scares you how much you want to get lost in him.

"You don't need normal" he replies.

His words hit heavy and get stuck inside your throat. You look away and wipe your tears, swallowing another bout of sobs threatening to escape your chest. The walls are cracking, the sound of them breaking and destructing can be heard as you let his words sink in.

"Quit your part time job and let me take care of you. Your every need, I'll satisfy it. You won't even have to ask me for it and it will be done" He says, leaning forward, as if trying to make you see the reason in what he's saying.

You shake your head, eyes brimming with anger and tears as you stare right into his own.

"I don't need you to take care of me. I've always done it myself and I have managed to do it just fine, I don’t need you" you seethe, feeling rage at his implication that you can't hold your own.

His expressions soften as he runs his eyes over your angry tears, his hand coming up to wipe them with his thumb. It’s pathetic how this small caress makes you lean into his touch.

"No you don't. But I need you. I need to take care of you. I won’t be able to live with myself if I don't" He confesses.

More tears run down your cheeks as sobs rip through your chest, and he continues to caress your face.

"Is this a declaration of love?" you grouch through your physical grief, watching how his eyes gaze into yours, as if he wasn't expecting you to ask him that.

"Does it have to be? I promise to keep you happy and protect you from all harm, should that not be enough?"

You stare into his orbs and your heart skips a beat at the raw vulnerability you find there. He's just as scared as you, if not more. Turns out, you aren't the only one who is bad at confronting feelings.

You crawl your way onto his lap, and he instantly wraps his arms around you, like you belong there. You take his hand into your own and press tender kisses onto his knuckles, and he watches you do it. Then you look up, and smile. That smile seems to be his undoing. Heeseung instantly leans down to kiss you fervently. You tangle your fingers in his hairs, kissing back just as deeply, and he groans into the kiss. The collision of your mouths is desperate, as if trying to convey all that's left unsaid.

"It's enough" You mumble into his mouth, and he swallows your words greedily.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen #heeseung smut #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung angst #enhypen angst #jay x reader #park jongseong

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witchywithwhiskey · 25 days ago

Text

this time of year

pairing: friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: you've kept your feelings for your friend, steve rogers, quiet for years—but when you're at the holiday market with your whole group of friends, some things come to light, and you don't think you can keep pretending you don't desperately want him anymore.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), fluff, light angst, smut, oral sex (m and f receiving), piv sex, protection, fingering (f receiving), nipple play, multiple orgasms, kissing, making out, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (sunshine), aftercare, happily ever after—this is probably the most vanilla sex i've written in a while but it's still porn with feelings.

word count: 11.9k

a/n: my first entry for @the-slumberparty's december daze challenge, and it's technically still december 1 where i live (just barely)!!! i used the prompt "Can I put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?" and had an idea i really liked and just ran with it! i promise most of my december fics won't be 10k+ words—mainly because i don't think i'd survive it 😅 but i hope y'all enjoy this soft and sweet and smutty start to december!! ♡

december daze challenge masterlist

Teasing tingles of chill danced across your skin as the crisp December wind brushed against your cheeks, making you huddle deeper into the warmth of your winter coat. You pushed your hands deeper into your pockets, but it didn’t do much. You’d forgotten your mittens, and your fingers felt nearly frozen.

It didn’t help that you and your friends had been meandering through one of the city’s holiday market for more than a few hours, the cold of the evening sinking deep into your bones. Unfortunately, there were only so many cups of hot chocolate one person could consume before they made themselves sick, and you’d reached that limit.

Still, you were having fun—too much fun to complain about the cold or to try to beg off early. That was why you smiled as you watched your best friend, Yelena Belova, duck into one of the market stalls, her green eyes going wide as they raked over the vendor’s display of knives.

You trailed a little slowly behind the rest of your friends—Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers—beneath the pop-up tent, distracted by the chill in your fingers as you rubbed them against your body through the material of your coat, trying to get them warm.

The wintry wind cut through the market again and, despite the trembling of your body, you smiled as you breathed in the scent of it. Beneath the pine smell from the evergreen trees being sold at the big tent near the entrance and the swirling richness of buttery baked goods, there was a fresh scent that made you turn your face upward.

Gray clouds were rolling in overhead, blotting out the deep navy of the evening sky, and you knew, deep in your bones, that it was going to snow. A smile curled the edges of your lips and you let your eyes fall closed as you breathed in that fresh scent of oncoming snow.

You loved this time of year because you loved the snow.

Everything about it conjured up memories of sitting by a crackling fire, wrapped in a cozy blanket, watching the beautiful flakes fall from the sky and dust everything in a perfect wintry cloak. You could spend hours sitting by a window, watching the snow come down, and you were suddenly looking forward to doing just that once you got home that evening.

When you finally opened your eyes and turned away from the sky, you found Steve lingering in the entrance of the tent where your friends were browsing, an intensity in his gaze as he looked at you. He didn’t look away when you caught him staring, simply held your gaze, letting you see the heat swirling in the depths of his bright blue eyes.

That heat had begun appearing in Steve’s eyes more and more when he looked at you, and you knew it had started after a certain night at the bar your friends frequented a few weeks prior. But you’d been determinedly ignoring that look in Steve’s eyes ever since that night—just like you’d been ignoring what exactly had happened between the two of you.

As fast as the memory of that night sprang to mind, you shoved it aside, reminding yourself that there was no use in dredging it up. What you and Steve had done that night had the potential to ruin all of your relationships, and no matter how much you might’ve wanted reenact the night at the bar, your friend group was too important to you to risk it.

Even after years of knowing them, you still felt like your addition to the group was precarious because you’d joined so much later. Steve, Bucky, Nat and Yelena had all known each other since they were teenagers, and you’d only met them in your early twenties. You’d sat near Yelena at your first job after college, and it had been best friends at first sight—or, at first snarky comment, anyway.

She’d adopted you as her best friend and introduced you to the others since you were new to the city and didn’t know anyone. You’d liked Steve from the moment you met him, but you’d kept a tight lid on your crush since you were more concerned about fitting into the group as seamlessly as possible, and you figured following your feelings would unnecessarily rock the boat.

Still, despite your intention of taking your crush on Steve to your grave, you couldn’t ignore the way he’d grown into himself as you all had gotten older.

Gone was the boy-next-door blond hair and clean-shaven face of the man you’d first met. Steve’s hair had darkened and he’d recently let it grow long enough that it was beginning to curl at the nape of his neck. He’d also grown out his beard, keeping it thick but neatly trimmed.

Steve had also, somewhere along the way, learned how to dress his tall form—and do it well.

That night at the holiday market, he’d worn light gray slacks, a dark charcoal sweater that you desperately wanted to rub your cheek against to see if it was as soft as it looked, and a black wool overcoat. It was an outfit that had you nearly drooling when you’d met up with your friends, unable to tear your eyes away from how Steve’s broad shoulders and trim waist filled out the clothes.

Despite the chill of the evening, Steve hadn’t seemed the least bit cold, and you’d caught yourself thinking more than once how warm it would feel to be wrapped up in his strong arms. Your fingers would never have gotten so miserably frozen if you’d snuck them beneath Steve’s coat or in his pockets…

With a start, you realized you’d been staring back at Steve for a long, lingering moment, and heat bloomed in your cheeks. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea—though, at that moment, you were struggling to figure out what exactly the wrong idea was—so you ducked your head and pretended like you were bundling deeper into your coat as you made to move past him into the tent.

“Are you alright, sunshine?” Steve asked as you passed him, his hand landing gently on your arm. Even through your coat, you could feel the warmth of his touch; it made you pause and glance up at him.

You realized your mistake immediately. You were too close to Steve—far too close. So close you could smell the rich, masculine scent of his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his body. It made you want to bury your face in his neck and inhale deeply, to wrap yourself up in his warmth until your bones didn’t even remember what the cold felt like.

“I-I’m ok,” you said in a shaky voice, more rattled by Steve’s closeness than the December wind cutting through the city, and you dropped your gaze to the gold pendant around his neck.

It glinted in the soft light of the market stall, and you remembered it had been a gift from his Irish Catholic mother. You used the memory of Steve telling you about the pendant to ground yourself and your voice came out stronger.

“Just cold.”

“D’you want some more hot chocolate?” Steve asked, and there was a hopeful note in his tone, like he was offering to get it for you, but you were quick to shake your head.

“Any more and I think my body will be more hot chocolate than water,” you joked, trying to ignore the emotions swirling in your chest like snowflakes on a wintry gale.

When Steve chuckled, you couldn’t help but look back up at him, finding his blue eyes sparkling as he gazed down at you, affection clear in the lines of his face.

Slowly, his smile eased into something else—something heavier, an expression that was almost yearning. It made the fluttering flakes in your chest swirl more frenziedly while a warmth bloomed somewhere lower, throbbing more to life the longer Steve looked at you with those darkened blue eyes. His expression spoke of things you’d never dare give voice to.

For another long moment, you and Steve just stared at each other, standing too close just inside the canopy of the vendor at the holiday market. A tension you refused to acknowledge crackled in the air around you.

Of their own volition, your eyes dropped to Steve’s mouth, his lower lip looking so soft and pink amid the dark brown of his beard. For what felt like the millionth time in the last few weeks, ever since that night at the bar, you imagined kissing him—how soft his mouth would be, how warm and inviting, and the feel of his rough beard rasping over your cheeks.

“Hey Steve, c’mere!”

Natasha’s call finally broke the spell that had fallen over you and Steve, and you jumped back, only in that moment realizing how close you’d been. Close enough that when you ducked your head and turned away from him, making your way over to Yelena and Bucky, that you missed Steve’s warmth almost immediately.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to ease the tension and whirling emotions in your chest, and slid between your friends, who were still looking at the knives on sale. Looping one arm through Yelena’s, you rested your head against Bucky’s shoulder, taking comfort in your friends’ warmth, even if it wasn’t as soothing as Steve’s had been.

“Both of you already have too many knives,” you said by way of a greeting. Your comment made both of them snort derisively, which made you smirk since it had been your intention to get a reaction out of them.

“There’s no such thing,” Yelena scoffed, tearing her eyes away from a double-edged dagger with an engraved handle to glance sideways at you. Her gaze met yours and then slid over your shoulder.

You followed it to where Natasha and Steve’s heads were ducked together. They were standing near a display of jewelry and you figured Nat was helping Steve pick out a Christmas present for someone, though you couldn’t think of who. You frowned.

“When are you going to put him out of his misery?”

Bucky’s gruff question drew you out of your thoughts of trying to remember someone in Steve’s life who he might be buying jewelry for, and you looked at your friend. Without even seeing your reflection, you knew confusion was written plainly across your face.

“What?” you asked, a little sharper than you’d intended, but you didn’t appreciate the implication that you were making Steve miserable.

Bucky cut his eyes to you, then slid them to Yelena, giving your best friend a pointed look. You spun your head around to your other side in time to watch Yelena’s mouth flatten into a reproachful frown.

Suddenly, you got the distinct impression that your friends were having an argument about you, though you couldn’t even begin to wonder what it could be about, except that it had something to do with Steve.

It took a moment of silent arguing before Yelena and Bucky seemed to come to an agreement. Yelena looked at you, a gentle expression on her face that made your stomach drop with anxiety—which only worsened when she put her free hand on your arm that was still looped through hers.

However, before she could voice whatever bad news she clearly had to tell you, Bucky cut in.

“You know no one would be upset if you and Steve dated, right?” he asked bluntly, his eyes intense and searching when you turned to look at him. “We all know you like each other.”

If you’d been drinking hot chocolate at that moment, you would’ve spit it out all over Bucky and the display of pretty decorative knives.

Thankfully, you weren’t. But you still managed to sputter and open your mouth repeatedly while you searched for the words to address the preposterousness of Bucky’s statement.

“I do not—”

Whatever weak protest you were going to utter was cut short when Yelena blurted, “We know you kissed.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, the snowflakes that had been fluttering in your chest when you’d been standing with Steve sharpened into icy daggers of unease. You whirled on your best friend. “Pardon?”

“I saw you guys at the bar that night—I went back to get my scarf…” Yelena explained quickly, having the good grace to look apologetic, both for what she’d seen and for bringing it up. “I know you’ve liked Steve for ages, even if you haven’t said anything,” she rushed on, as if she thought if she spoke fast enough, it would make it easier to hear. “I was so excited it was finally happening that I blurted it out to Nat and she told Bucky—we were just so happy for you both.”

You floundered again, your mouth opening and closing as you processed your best friend’s words. It was almost too much to take in. Not only did everyone know what had happened between you and Steve that night at the bar, but it hadn’t changed anything. You’d told yourself for years that nothing could happen between you and Steve because it would throw off the whole balance of the group, but something had happened and it hadn’t done anything.

“I—”

Again, you were cut off, though it was seemingly Bucky’s turn, and your head swiveled back to him on your other side, feeling a bit like a broken bobblehead.

“He’s liked you too, for what it’s worth,” Bucky said. Your face must’ve conveyed disbelief because he went on. “He’s been talking about you since Yelena first introduced you to everyone, but he didn’t know how you felt,” he said, cutting his eyes to Yelena with the barest hint of a glare, “and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Hearing that Steve liked you was officially too much for you to bear. The dawning realization that you could’ve been with Steve without risking your friendships with Yelena, Bucky and Nat was like a yawning, desolate chasm waiting to swallow you whole. You’d lost so much time because you were so afraid of losing them all, and it hurt—it hurt enough that it took you a moment to realize Yelena was talking again.

“We thought someone had finally made a move, but then you guys were pretending like nothing happened,” she was saying, and you turned back to her, your mind so overwhelmed that you no longer felt cold, only numb. “None of us wanted to bring it up because, y’know, I wasn’t supposed to have seen it.” She shot you an apologetic grimace before plowing on, her expression turning gentle again. “You know we’d never stop being your friends, even if something happened with you and Steve, right?”

Your heart was racing, the fear of change quickly eclipsing the fear of losing any more time with Steve. You’d been friends with Yelena, Bucky, Nat and Steve for so long that you couldn’t even imagine what it would be like if the two of you started dating—let alone what might happen if you broke up. Shaking your head, you refused to acknowledge Yelena’s assurance. Even if they’d still be friends with you, nothing would be the same.

“Nothing happened,” you said vehemently, even as you choked on the words, the lie tasting like ash on your tongue. But you couldn’t seem to stop. “We were drunk, it meant nothing.”

But then Bucky—blunt, too-perceptive Bucky—broke into your thoughts and pulled you up short with another simple question.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, his tone not unkind.

You opened your mouth to snap a quick answer, but the ‘yes’ died in your throat. Because of course something had happened, and of course it meant everything.

For the first time in weeks, you gave yourself permission to remember that night.

You’d tried to forget it—forget the softness of Steve’s lips on yours, forget the heat of his tongue as it slipped into your mouth, forget the pleasant scrape of his beard against your skin and the gentle way he’d held your face as he deepened the kiss.

Your first kiss with Steve Rogers had been glorious and messy and too short and too perfect—and it had meant everything to you.

But then you remembered what had happened after, the way you’d pulled away, even though you’d been the one to initiate the kiss in the first place, and panicked as soon as your mind had caught up with what you’d done.

The rest of the memory was a blur, the anxiety of the moment softening the edges, but you distinctly remembered extricating yourself from Steve—which had felt a little like cutting off a limb—before telling him it was a mistake and it couldn’t happen again.

Back at the market, you buried your face in your hands, and almost sobbed at the memory. “I’ve already ruined things,” you mumbled miserably into your frozen fingers, squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay.

Bucky made a humming noise, as if he was considering your words. “Whatever happened between you two, it hasn’t changed Steve’s feelings for you,” he said, squeezing your wrist gently until you looked at him. He stared at you for a long moment, making sure you heard him. “So my question stands: When are you going to put him—and yourself—out of this misery?”

Your friends let you sit with that question for a silent moment, then Yelena selected one of the knives, claiming it was an early Christmas present for herself and made her way over to the checkout.

Steve was also apparently buying something, accepting a small wrapped package from the cashier that he slipped into his pocket. You were too overwhelmed by your thoughts to be curious about it anymore though.

You stood with Bucky near the entrance to the tent, waiting for your friends to finish their transactions while your mind swirled. You were grateful to your friend for leaving you alone with your thoughts, though you knew it was only because Bucky was confident he’d made his point.

And he had. Oh how he had.

Your mind and heart were a mess. You’d spent so many years telling yourself that you could never let anyone catch on about your feelings for Steve, because if they did, it would lead to the end of the friend group. But they’d all known for weeks, and nothing had changed.

Well, nothing except apparently Bucky and Yelena had taken it upon themselves to play matchmaker. And you wouldn’t have been surprised if Natasha had been in on the ploy as well, distracting Steve purposefully so Yelena and Bucky could ambush you.

Still, you couldn’t fully silence the tiny voice of fear deep in your heart that insisted that if you and Steve got together, and things ended badly, you’d lose all your friends.

The rest of the group had known each other for so long and it had been more than a little daunting to figure out where you fit. Adding a romantic relationship into the mix seemed like a recipe for disaster—and if it ended so badly that everyone was forced to choose sides, you couldn’t imagine them choosing yours when they’d known Steve so much longer.

But as you watched Yelena finish paying for the knife, her words about always being your friend came back to you. She was your best friend—and you were hers. As if proving the point, she caught your eye and smiled impishly as she caught up with you, linking her arm through yours and tugging you back out into the market.

In that moment, something settled in you. Without fully realizing it, you’d always been a little insecure in your group of friends, always worried they would kick you out at the smallest infraction. But Yelena had said it plainly—they’d always be your friends, and you owed it to them to believe her, to trust her, because that was what friendship was.

That was what you had to do to have any kind of meaningful relationship.

As your group of friends wandered further down the row of stalls at the holiday market, you couldn’t help the way your eyes kept straying to Steve. Each time, you found him either looking at you already, or glancing your way within seconds, like he could feel your gaze.

When you looked at him, really looked at him, you noticed a little bit of hurt in his eyes. There was only a hint of it, like he was trying to hide it from you and everyone elese, but you could see it.

You wondered, briefly, how you’d missed it, but a part of you knew you’d been seeing it since that night at the bar. You’d just been ignoring it along with everything else swirling in his gaze.

“When are you going to put him out of his misery?”

You’d known you were making yourself miserable—of course you had. But the realization that you were making Steve miserable, even as he made a valiant effort to hide it, was what finally made your decision for you about what to do with everything Bucky and Yelena had told you.

No matter how scared you were that things might end badly, and you’d end up getting your heart broken and lose all your friends, you had to trust them when they said they’d always be there for you. You had to trust that Steve knew what he wanted—and that what he wanted was you.

The group came to another stop when Bucky spotted a specialty chocolate vendor and he ducked inside. Nat and Yelena followed him in—the latter giving you a meaningful look as you trailed behind before cutting her eyes to Steve. The message was clear and you nodded, giving her a playful shove that made your best friend cackle as she followed Bucky and Nat.

You stepped toward Steve where he hovered just outside the tent, and he shot you a knowing smile when he caught your eye.

“Still feeling like you’ve had enough chocolate?” he asked in a friendly tone, referencing your earlier joke. His beard twitched like he was trying to hold back a smile and it warmed your heart that he not only remembered the joke, but still found it funny.

The side of your mouth curved up in a lopsided grin, and you inched a tiny bit closer, just barely stepping into Steve’s personal space as you looked up at him.

“Yeah, I’ve had my fill,” you said, keeping your tone light. You took on a considering expression, tipping your head to the side and tapping a finger to your chin as if you were thinking. “For tonight, at least.”

Both of you laughed, but the December wind cut through the holiday market just then, and it reminded you of how cold your fingers were, especially out in the open. You quickly shoved your hand deep into the pocket of your coat, and Steve didn’t miss the movement, drifting even closer to you.

“Do you have any gloves, sunshine?” he asked in a low, rumbly voice that had warm tingles of delight dancing down your spine, all the way to your toes.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. Steve had moved close enough that you had to tip your head back to keep looking up at him, and you could feel the heat radiating off his larger body.

His blue eyes were sparkling in the warm, golden light of the market, and you could see the swirl of emotion in their depths that was only there when he looked at you. But there was a crease of concern between his brows, too, and you knew he was seconds away from offering to find you some gloves—or something else that would be chivalrous and perfectly friendly.

You realized, very suddenly, that if anything was going to happen between you and Steve, anything like what had happened at the bar, you needed to make the first move. Bucky had said Steve had been worried about making you uncomfortable before that night, and you were certain it had only worsened after the kiss you’d shared.

So, before he could say anything, you blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Can I put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?”

Steve’s brows lifted in surprise, and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from trying to take the words back as soon as they’d slipped out of your mouth. And you were glad you did, because as the moment stretched on, and Steve realized you were serious, his brows lowered and his blue eyes darkened with interest.

“Ya sure about that, sunshine?” he asked, his voice low enough that you knew it was meant for only you. He ducked his head slightly, so he was nearly at your eye level, and held your gaze. “I wouldn’t want you doing anything you might regret.”

The words stung a little, but you knew you deserved them, especially after you’d told Steve that kissing him had been a mistake. So you held his gaze and stepped even closer to him, until there was barely any space left between your bodies.

“I’m sure,” you said firmly, letting Steve see the honesty in your open expression. “I know what I’m doing and I—this is what I want.” You were proud of yourself for only stumbling once, and held your breath as you waited for Steve’s response.

The corners of Steve’s mouth flickered in an eager grin, but he wiped the expression away, like he was worried that if he appeared too excited, he’d scare you away. You felt a pang of regret, and it doubled your determination to show Steve that you weren’t going to panic and run away again.

Pulling your hands from your pockets, you brushed your fingertips against Steve’s stomach in a silent reminder of your question.

“Can I?” you asked, your voice breathless with anticipation.

“Yeah,” he rasped, his eyes molten with heat as he stared down at you. “Go ‘head, sunshine.”

You were cold enough that you didn’t waste any more time, slipping your fingers beneath the hem of Steve’s soft sweater and pressing your frigid fingertips to the warm, smooth skin you found.

“Fuck, your fingers are freezing,” Steve rumbled, the muscles of his abs contracting beneath your touch like they were trying flee. But before you could apologize and pull away, Steve’s hands flattened over yours outside his sweater, pressing your palms against the hard-packed plane of his abs. “Good thing ya got me to keep you warm, sunshine,” he teased, his voice so full of charm that you melted into him.

“Yeah, good thing,” you echoed in a whisper, the edges of your mouth curling up into a pleased smile. You shimmied closer to Steve, watching the way his blue eyes sparkled with affection as he held your gaze captive.

He wrapped you up against him, holding you in the loose cage of his warms while your fingertips stroked idly against his smooth skin. You wanted to let them wander further beneath his sweater and explore the wonders of Steve’s bare chest, but you managed to keep the urge in check since you were in public—though it was a near thing.

“You know what I like to do most in the winter?” you asked Steve, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over the two of you. The sounds of the market all around you were a distant soundtrack.

“What?” he asked indulgently, squeezing you slightly in his arms.

“Curl up in bed and snuggle on a snowy day,” you said with a sly smile. And then, as if a thought had just occurred to you, you tilted your head to the side. “Hey, is your bed comfy? Do you have a lot of nice warm blankets and good pillows?”

A grin pulled across Steve’s face even though he was fighting it, trying to look like he was taking your questions under serious consideration.

“Y’know, I think it’s very comfy,” he said, giving you a knowing look. He’d obviously picked up on the not-so-subtle cue that you might want him to take you back to his place, and you appreciated that he was sticking to the bit. “But it sounds like you’re an expert, so I think you should come over and be the judge of that.”

An answering grin curved your mouth and you murmured, “I’d like that.”

Then, before you could let your fear get the best of you again, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes, your lips brushing against Steve’s beard as you moved to whisper in his ear.

You shivered at the physical reminder of the coarse hair rasping deliciously against your cheeks when he’d kissed you and it took a moment to remember what you’d been about to say. When you did, you couldn’t hold in your smirk.

“Did I mention I do my best snuggling naked?”

“Sunshine.”

The nickname was uttered in a gruff, rumbling rasp, like the sound of a plow on snowy streets. It was so deep and delicious, your toes curled in delight and your mouth pulled into a full-blown grin.

You barely had time to pull away before Steve was wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and towing you in for a kiss.

Steve’s mouth was wonderfully soft and exquisitely warm and achingly familiar against yours. He wasted no time licking along the seam of your lips, seeking entrance that you happily gave him.

Your fingers curled around Steve’s sides beneath his sweater, digging greedily into the soft skin at his waist while you kissed him back feverishly, trying to close every gap between your bodies.

“Fuck, how does this feel so much better than I remember?” Steve growled against your lips, his hand on the back of your neck tilting your head just the way he wanted so he could lick even deeper into your mouth.

Your breathy, delirious laugh was swallowed by his all-consuming kiss, the sound turning into a helpless moan.

God, he was right, it did feel so much better than you remembered to have Steve’s mouth on yours, and you couldn’t fathom how you’d run away from him before because, in that moment, the last thing you wanted to do was stop. You wanted to kiss Steve for the rest of your life.

“I don’t know, but Steve, please, don’t stop,” you murmured when he finally let you up for air. You tried to catch your breath while he was busy pressing insatiable kisses to your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth, anywhere he could reach without straying too far from your lips.

Pulling your hands from beneath his sweater, your no longer freezing fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, pulling him closer while at the same time pushing yourself up onto your tiptoes again. Your bodies slotted together even more perfectly, and you moaned softly into his mouth as you tugged him in for another kiss.

Steve kissed you harder, holding you tight to his chest like he was afraid that if he let go, you’d disappear on the wintry wind. In turn, you held him just as fiercely, your nails raking through the beard on the underside of his jaw and tugging lightly to bring him closer until he was rumbling a pleased sound deep in his chest.

“Get a room!”

The perfect bubble that had formed around and Steve abruptly popped, the sounds of the bustling holiday market rushing in along with the December chill and you pulled away, your first instinct to worry about what your friends would think. But then you caught the look on Steve’s face.

He was staring at you with such a blissed out expression, his blue eyes dark and hazy, a pleased smile on his kiss-swollen lips, that you couldn’t help but relax and melt back into him. You took your time to press a sweet kiss to his lips before turning to your friends.

Natasha, Yelena and Bucky all wore matching smug grins. Nat was even popping little chocolate candies into her mouth like she was enjoying the show.

“Oh no, please don’t stop on our account,” she called to you and Steve, gesturing with her hand for you both to continue. The whole group burst into raucous laughter.

Cracking up and shaking your head, you buried your face in Steve’s rumbling chest, feeling a little shy about being caught making out so heatedly by your friends. But you felt relief, too, that no one was upset—that all your friends were happy for you and Steve.

When you’d finally gotten ahold of yourself, you tipped your face up and caught Steve’s eye, giving him a sly smile that had his expression instantly darkening with a hunger that made you pulse with desire.

“So about that comfy bed of yours…” you murmured, just for him to hear. When he nodded once, quickly, to acknowledge he remembered it, you went on. “I’d love to see it if you’re ready to go?”

The implication of your question was clear and Steve clutched you tighter to his chest, capturing your lips for a brief, hot kiss that did more to warm you from the inside out than any of the hot chocolate you’d consumed that evening.

“Sunshine, I’ve been ready to take you home for years,” he rasped against your mouth, the honesty in his voice making you smile.

When Steve pulled away, he tugged you over to your group of friends and told them you were heading home—yes, together, he confirmed. All three of them murmured encouraging words in your ear as you hugged them goodbye, and you could tell by the pink tinging Steve’s cheeks that they were doing the same to him.

Once farewells were said, Steve snagged your hand and laced your fingers together. As you walked to the subway, he tucked your clasped hands into the pocket of his overcoat, and then your other into the crook of his elbow, where he covered it with his palm to keep you warm.

Steve held you tucked into his side the whole way back to his place while he made idle conversation, asking about the latest books you’d read and movies you’d watched. He only let go when it came time to pull out his keys and unlock his door.

There was a giddy, electric energy between the two of you as Steve helped you out of your coat and hung it up. Your gaze kept drifting back to him while you took off your boots and he hung up his overcoat. Once done, he stepped close, toeing out of his shoes next to where you’d dropped your boots.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Steve asked, his voice rough and a little uneven, like he was nervous. It made you smile, settling your own nerves to know he was right there with you.

You stepped further into Steve’s space, your fingers sneaking beneath the hem of his sweater and giggling when he sucked in a sharp breath. He’d made an excellent effort to keep your fingers warm on the way home, but the December cold had still snuck in.

It was a good thing Steve was there to warm you up again.

“I think I’d just like to see this comfy bed of yours,” you murmured, pushing up onto your tiptoes and kissing Steve.

The two of you lingered in the entryway of Steve’s apartment for long minutes, kissing and learning what made each other gasp and moan. His teeth nipped at your lower lip, sinking in hard enough to make you whimper before relenting and soothing the sting away with his tongue.

Meanwhile, you let your hands wander further beneath Steve’s sweater, finding a light trail of hair leading down to the waistband of his slacks. You raked your nails through it, and relished the pleased sound that rumbled in his chest.

Warm, wet desire was gathering between your thighs, and it wasn’t long before you squirmed impatiently against Steve, needing more.

By the time Steve broke the kiss and spun you around, his heavy hands dropping to your hips to guide you through his apartment, your panties were damp and you were aching for something only Steve could give you.

Both of you moved quickly as you let Steve lead you to his bedroom, pausing just inside the darkened room while he flicked on a light.

A soft, golden glow emanated from two lamps set on low wooden tables on either side of the massive bed. Curiously, your gaze roved over the room, taking in the earthy colors and tasteful design.

It seemed Steve hadn’t only gotten his wardrobe and appearance together—he’d also made his home a place that was warm and welcoming and entirely him.

The king-size bed was swathed in a thick, forest green comforter with dark charcoal sheets, a veritable pile of pillows at the head that looked far too enticing. The rest of the room was furnished with a dark wooden bookcase and dresser that matched the bed frame and side tables. There were even some vintage photographs of Brooklyn decorating the wall, along with some framed pictures on dresser.

Wandering over, you picked up one of the photographs. It was from the first autumn after you’d met Yelena and the others. The group had rented a car and gone to a farm upstate to go apple picking and enjoy all the other autumnal delights the state had to offer.

In the photo, you were tucked into Steve’s side on a bale of hay, ready for the hayride the group had decided to go on, with Yelena on your other side. There was a blanket draped over your laps, and Steve’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders. The three of you were beaming at the camera.

“Do you remember that trip?” Steve asked, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder while he peered at the photograph.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. Then you winced as you remembered something about the trip. “Wasn’t this the time I fell asleep on your shoulder on the way home and drooled all over your jacket?”

Steve laughed huskily in your ear.

“It is,” he confirmed, brushing a kiss to your cheek before murmuring. “I didn’t wash it for a month.”

It was your turn to laugh, though the sound was more of a surprised exhalation as you twisted your upper body so you could see his face better.

“What?”

Steve grimaced, wrinkling his nose and scuffing a hand against the back of his neck sheepishly, like he regretted admitting that to you.

“It was more because it smelled like you than because of the, y’know, drool,” he explained, his tone a tiny bit defensive. But then he looked at you, finding your face still frozen in surprise and his expression softened. “I’ve liked you since I met you, sunshine.”

It wasn’t anything Bucky hadn’t already told you, but it still felt like an entirely new revelation coming straight from Steve, and all you could think to say was, “Oh.”

You turned back to the photo, still held in your hand, and all you could think about was the fact that you had the same one tacked up on the corkboard over your desk. You wondered if Steve liked it for the same reason you did—because it made the two of you look like a happy couple, even with Yelena sitting next to you.

“I liked you too,” you confessed in a small voice.

Steve was quiet for a moment, his hold on you loosening slightly as you stepped forward to put the photograph back on his dresser. But when that was done, he towed you back in until your back was pressed to his chest.

“Liked?” he asked, enunciating the ‘d’ at the end of the word.

Your mouth flickered in a smile and you turned around in his arms. Your hands smoothed over his broad shoulders while you leaned into him, your soft curves pressing into the hard planes of his body.

“I liked you then, and I like you now, Steve,” you said, holding your breath as you stared up at him. Even knowing he felt the same way about you, it was still scary to lay your heart bare for the first time, and you waited eagerly for his response.

An exhale gusted from Steve and you couldn’t help but note the relief in his expression, even as he grinned wide.

“That’s good to hear, sunshine, because I like you, too.”

“Good,” you said with a grin, dragging Steve down for a too-brief kiss. “Now, will you take me to bed already?”

Steve’s laughter was muffled as he kissed you again, guiding you around and walking you backward until the backs of your legs hit the bed. He didn’t break the kiss as he lowered you to the soft mattress and helped you slide up the bed until your shoulders settled into the pile of pillows at the head.

Your arms wrapped around Steve and you pulled him down on top of you while he braced himself so he didn’t crush you. One of his legs slid between your thighs and he lowered himself down on top of you until his bulge pressed into your stomach. Your belly swooped with excitement and your pulse thrummed with desire.

Hiking one of your legs up around his waist, you writhed beneath Steve, grinding your hot core against his thigh through your jeans.

You couldn’t seem to stop touching him, your hands sketching the exact measure of his body, and he seemed to be doing the same. Steve’s hands couldn’t stay still, sliding up and down your sides before finally pushing beneath your sweater.

His warm, calloused fingers stroked covetously over your skin, and you felt extra sensitive wherever he touched you, his every caress sending shivers of pleasure racing through your body.

“Steve,” you whined, wrenching your mouth from his to drag in a much-needed breath. Even still, you craved more and your body rocked up into his, grinding against his thigh while his bulge pressed insistently into your belly.

“You feel so good, sunshine,” he rasped as he kissed a trail along your jaw and down to your neck. The scratch of his beard against your skin had you shuddering beneath his big body. “Can I…?” he asked, his fingertips teasing along the edge of your bra beneath your sweater.

“Yes—please,” you gasped. Your own fingers curled into the soft fabric of Steve’s sweater between his shoulder blades and you tugged on it, trying to pull it over his head.

Steve chuckled into your neck before he sat up and yanked his sweater off for you, baring the broad expanse of his chest. You caught glimpses of soft brown hair dusted across his pecs and endless swaths of golden skin before he was helping you out of your sweater.

You grumbled disgruntledly when your view of Steve was cut off as he tugged your sweater over your head, then as he leaned close to unclasp your bra and toss it somewhere in the room. You only dragged your eyes away from Steve’s perfect chest when he made a low, almost anguished sound.

He looked a little dazed, his eyes staring down at your bare breasts. Your chest was heaving slightly, making them bounce gently, and Steve looked almost hypnotized by the sight.

Snorting to yourself, you curled your fingers around his firm biceps and tugged him back down on top of you, whimpering when your nipples brushed against the hair on his chest. They pebbled as pleasure spiked through your body, settling heavily between your thighs and making even more wetness soak into your panties.

The movement had broken Steve from his trance and he began kissing from your neck down your chest. The rasp of his beard over your clavicle sent a delicious shiver down your spine, making you keen and tremble beneath him.

“Fuck, you’re so soft,” he rumbled gruffly into your skin. He buried his face in the valley between your breasts, groping your supple flesh in his big hands while pressing teasing kisses and gentle bites to your skin. “You’re so perfect, sunshine.”

You whined a needy sound, reacting to his touch as much as his awe-filled words, and threaded your fingers through Steve’s soft hair. You held him tightly to your chest, wordlessly pleading for more, and he enthusiastically indulged the request.

Steve wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked deeply, drawing so much of you into his hot mouth, it felt like he was doing his damndest to devour you. You were already so sensitive for him that it felt like there was a direct line connecting your sensitive peak to your clit, and you cried out in pleasure, your spine arching up off the bed and pushing your chest further in Steve’s face.

He grinned, doing a poor job of hiding his self-satisfied expression in your soft tits, but you didn’t begrudge him the smugness—not when he nibbled at your hardened nipple so good, it made your hips buck up from the bed. A whine slipped from your lips when you realized you no longer had his thigh to grind against, your legs kicking restlessly at the sheets.

After giving the same torturous treatment to your other nipple, wringing even more whimpering whines and desperate keening sounds from your mouth, Steve began kissing his way further down your body. He nipped playfully at your belly before lifting his head to catch your eye.

It took you a moment to blink them into focus enough to see him clearly.

“I’ve been dreaming about your taste for years, sunshine,” he rumbled, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your jeans and tugging just enough that you knew he was asking if he could take them off. “Please, can I…?”

You were already nodding, your fingers fumbling over the button of your jeans. Steve seemed just as eager as you, gently pushing your hand aside and taking over as he thumbed it through the hole in the denim and pulled your zipper down. Then he was peeling your jeans down over you hips and thighs, taking your panties off at the same time.

In only a few seconds, you were stripped bare for the first time in front of Steve Rogers, and if it wasn’t for the shuddered exhale that gusted past his lips and the sizable bulge twitching in the front of his slacks, it might’ve occurred to you to feel a little insecure.

But before those thoughts could even begin to creep in, Steve was dragging his hands up your thighs and spreading your legs with a reverent look on his face, giving an appreciative rumble deep in his chest as he raked his eyes up the naked length of your body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, sunshine,” he rasped, pressing his face between your thighs and taking a deep breath.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks, but you didn’t have time to wonder at how you smelled because Steve was licking his tongue into the seam of your pussy, groaning like he’d eaten something delicious.

“Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined,” he growled before diving in deeper, burying his face against your cunt and eating you out like he was a dying man and you were his last meal.

In no time at all, he had you crying out, your hips bucking up off the bed as pleasure swirled through your body. It was all you could do to try to stop yourself from humping against his handsome face.

Steve’s thick biceps banded around your thighs and he held you spread open while he feasted on you, his eyes staring up past your quivering belly and heaving chest to watch your reactions. He sucked and nibbled and flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit, paying attention to what had you writhing and moaning your pleasure beneath him.

He licked into your pussy, fucking you with his tongue until you were squirming and panting on the bed, your thighs tensing and trembling with your building release.

Needing something to hold on to, you threaded your fingers into Steve’s hair, holding his head against your greedy pussy and rocking your hips into him. You moaned loudly, unabashedly, grinding against his mouth and beard as you neared the edge.

“Oh god, Steve, ‘m so close, please—please, don’t stop, ‘m gonna come,” you babbled, your spine arching up off the bed as you threw your head back into the pile of soft pillows. “Fuck, please, please, please!”

It was clear that Steve was a quick study when it came to your body, and he put what he’d learned to good use, sucking hard on your clit and flicking his tongue over it, steadily driving your pleasure higher until, finally, it crested. And then he pushed you right over the edge.

Your fingers fisted in Steve’s hair and you humped shamelessly against his face as you came with a cry of his name—“Steve!” Your body tightened, and then loosened as wave after wave of pleasure swept through your limbs, making you shiver intensely while Steve’s mouth worked you through your release.

When the pleasure began to ebb, you melted back into the soft blankets on Steve’s bed, a dazed smile curving your mouth. Steve eased you down with gentle sweeps of his tongue and soft kisses to your inner thighs, murmuring sweet words to you about how good you tasted on his tongue.

It wasn’t until you whimpered from overstimulation that Steve stopped. He pressed one last kiss to the top of your mound before pushing himself up. His happy grin when he saw the sated, content expression on your face made your heart skip a beat in your chest. He was just so damn handsome.

“Good?” Steve asked, though you knew from the self-satisfied look in his eye that he already knew the answer to his question.

Still, you nodded. “So good,” you purred, stretching and reaching for him. Your fingers curled into coarse hair on the underside of his jaw and you tugged him up your body for a kiss.

You could taste yourself on his lips, and his beard was so drenched in your juices, it made your own cheeks damp. A groan worked its way up your throat at the filthiness of the kiss, and you pulled Steve closer, letting him muffle the sound as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

Even though Steve had just made you come harder than anyone else in your entire life, renewed desire was beginning to bloom in your core, the heat of your arousal already building again. Distractedly, you recognized that you’d never felt the way you did for anyone but Steve—insatiable, unwilling to let the night end just yet.

When Steve’s hard bulge knocked against your hip, a devious smirk curled your lips and you wasted no time trailing your fingers down his bare, golden chest to grope his cock through his slacks. He was hard and heavy in your hand, and an excited thrill raced down your spine at the thought of taking him in your mouth.

Steve groaned against your lips, his big body shuddering when you squeezed and stroked him through the thick material of his pants. So you did it again, rubbing him with your palm until you felt his hard length jump against your fingers, like his body was just as eager for your touch as the rest of him.

“We don’t have to do more,” Steve said, his voice a little breathless. “I-I mean, you don’t have to return the favor or anything. I’m good to just go to sleep if that’s what you want.”

Steve’s words were honorable, but you didn’t want to sleep.

You pushed at his larger body until he flipped onto his back. Following after him, you kissed down his chest, taking a moment to nuzzle in the soft hair scattered across his pecs before you lifted your head and caught his eye, letting him see the desire in yours.

“I bet I’ve dreamed about sucking your cock just as much as you dreamed about eating my pussy,” you whispered huskily, holding his gaze determinedly while you shifted down his body until your face was level with his bulge. You mouthed at his hard length through his slacks. “Please, Steve, can I…?”

“Yeah—yes—fuck, sunshine, you can do whatever you want,” he rasped, helping you undo his button and fly, his fingers trembling. Then he lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down.

You felt like you were unwrapping the most perfect Christmas present as you tugged his slacks and boxer briefs down his thick, toned thighs. You even let out a little gasp of delight when Steve’s cock bounced free, marveling at the sheer masculine beauty of it.

Impatiently, you pulled his clothes the rest of the way off, pausing only to kiss his thighs, enjoying the softness of his leg hair against your lips and cheeks, before returning to his cock.

Taking him in hand, you circled your fingers around the thick shaft and gave him a loose pump, watching how he bucked his hips into your fist from just that little bit of touching. Steve’s hands were fisted in the blankets on the bed, like he was holding himself back from touching you, and you decided you want to make the man—your man—lose himself in pleasure, just like he’d done to you.

You ducked down and licked the tip of Steve’s cock, humming in delight as the salty, musky taste of his precum burst on your tongue. The vibrations made Steve groan and you hid a self-satisfied smirk against his cock, before refocusing on your task.

You pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses up and down Steve’s shaft, staring up his hard, firm body while he watched you worship his cock. His cheeks were tinged pink, a light sheen of sweat dotting his brow and his eyes were so dark, his pupils blown so wide, they looked like the navy blue night sky on a winter evening.

When you ducked down further, taking his balls into your mouth and suckling greedily, Steve’s gaze widened and his cock twitched in your hand.

“Sunshine,” he rasped, the nickname sounding like a plea for mercy as he groaned loudly. “Ya keep sucking my balls and I’m gonna come way too soon.”

With a smirk, you gave his sensitive sac one last little suckle before letting it fall from your lips, then you licked up the length of his cock.

“Can’t have that,” you quipped, shooting him a smug grin. You pressed a kiss to the tip and wrapped your lips around the head, taking him into your mouth and sucking hard enough to make his hips buck up off the bed.

Another anguished sound wrenched free from Steve’s lips.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned as he settled back down, one of his hands coming to rest on the crown of your head—not pushing you down or pulling you away, just holding you like he couldn’t help but touch you.

For a moment, you focused on Steve’s cock, pulling back before taking him deeper into your mouth, using your tongue to swirl around the head and trace the veins decorating his shaft while your fist stroked him. But when you flicked your gaze up to Steve, you found him watching you with adoration in his eyes.

“You’re amazing, sunshine,” he rumbled when he noticed he had your attention, one side of his mouth pulling up in a lopsided grin. “You’re gorgeous—and you look so fucking hot with my cock in your mouth.”

The corners of your mouth flickered in a pleased smile as his praise washed over you, and you closed your eyes, soaking it in. When you opened them again, you redoubled your efforts on Steve, bobbing up and down on his length at a steady pace while you pumped him in your fist.

You lost yourself in the pleasure of sucking Steve’s cock, and before long, you could feel yourself growing wet all over again. Your inner walls clenched pathetically around nothing while your mouth was filled with his big dick, but you didn’t want to stop.

However, before you could make Steve come down your throat, his hands gently gripped your head and he pulled you up off his cock. With his considerable strength, Steve hauled you back up the bed and rolled you over onto your back beneath him, bracing himself on one hand while the other slide between your thighs. He bit off a curse when he felt how wet you were.

“Christ, sunshine, ya got this wet from sucking my cock?” he asked, a note of teasing in his tone that had heat coursing through your body. Before you could respond, though, his mouth found yours for a kiss.

You were certain he must’ve been able to taste himself on your tongue, but he didn’t seem to care. He was too determined to devour your lips and swallow your moan while he speared you open with two fingers, capturing your cry of pleasure.

“Oh god, Steve,” you mumbled against his mouth, your hips rocking into his hand and fucking his fingers. “Please, I need you—I need you to fuck me.” Your hand was fisted in Steve’s soft hair and you clung to him, your entire being straining to get closer while still taking all the pleasure his fingers offered.

“Thank fuck—I need you so goddamned bad, sunshine,” he groaned, easing his fingers from your dripping hole and rolling onto his back so he could reach for something.

A moment later, you heard the sound of a wooden drawer snap closed and he rolled back on top of you, the square foil packet of a condom held in his fingers.

“Ya wanna do the honors?” he asked, his grin so charming and so like the Steve you’d known for so many years that it took your breath away.

But there was a comfort and an ease to the moment because you were there with Steve—your Steve—and you laughed at his silly offer. You were shaking your head even as you took the packet and tore it open, tossing the foil aside and making quick work of rolling the condom onto his cock.

When you were done, you gave the base of his shaft an affectionate squeeze and Steve chuckled, capturing your lips in a kiss while he shifted on top of you, pressing his knees between your legs and spreading your thighs to make room for his big, broad body.

You opened happily for him, kissing him back while your legs hooked around the backs of his thighs. Together, you lined your bodies up until Steve’s cock lay heavily against your mound, kissing lazily all the while.

After a moment, Steve broke the kiss, pushing himself up with one hand while the other fisted his hard length and held himself away from the place where you ached for him to fill. He stared deep into your eyes and gave you a serious look, a little bit of anxiety swirling in his gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his eyes roving over your face like he was searching for any hidden remnant of hesitance on your part—any sign that you might run, you realized. “Because I’ve wanted this—I’ve wanted you for so long, that if you tell me tomorrow this was a mistake…” Steve paused, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed, “it’ll break my fucking heart, sunshine.”

Steve’s voice cracked a little on the pet name and it made your heart split open in your chest. You didn’t know if you’d ever forgive yourself for hurting Steve the way you did, for saying those things you didn’t mean and trying to push him away when all you’d wanted was to pull him closer.

You decided then and there to make it up to him—and that began with being honest with him. Always.

So you threaded your fingers into Steve’s beard until you were cupping his face and you stared him directly in the eye as you answered his question.

“I’m sure, Steve,” you said firmly, certainty resonating in your tone. “I was scared before—I’ve wanted you for so long that the thought of finally having you was terrifying.” You gave him a tremulous, apologetic smile, and his expression softened. “But I’m sure about this,” you said again, your voice stronger. “I’m sure about you, and I’m sure about us.”

When you finished your confession, Steve’s eyes closed and he exhaled a long, relieved breath. You pulled him down for a kiss, and it was a gentle thing—tentative as you both savored the vulnerability you shared, physically and emotionally, thanking one another for the trust that took.

It was only when the kiss ended and Steve pressed his forehead to yours that he pushed inside you for the first time, his thick cock sinking deep into your pussy with one determined, inexorable thrust.

Your arms and legs were wrapped around him already and you clung to Steve as you cried out, tears of emotion pricking at the backs of your eyes even as pleasure radiated through your body.

“You ok?” Steve asked softly and the question—so gentle and genuine—had a tear spilling onto your cheek. He brushed it away.

“This is the happiest I’ve ever been,” you admitted in a thick voice, tugging Steve’s mouth back to yours, kissing him deeply.

Together, you gave yourselves over to your instincts. Steve pulled his hips back until only half of him remained inside, and your heels dug into the backs of his thighs, urging him to plunge deep into you again. He slid home, and both of you moaned.

Steve rocked into you with slow, thorough thrusts, but when you moaned for more, he drew back more each time and thrust harder. It wasn’t long before he was fucking you in hard, deep strokes that hit all the most perfect spots inside you, his mouth kissing your cheeks and neck and anywhere he could reach while he held you pinned to his chest, his hips working his cock deep into your cunt.

With every hard thrust, you clung more tightly to Steve, holding him with your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers buried in his hair, thankful he’d grown it long enough that you could grip it tight in your fists. Your body writhed beneath his bigger form, using your legs draped around his thighs to meet his thrusts.

For what seemed like forever, you and Steve were nothing more than two writhing bodies trying to get closer, deeper, tighter together, like your hearts were straining to become one. And you were so consumed with pleasure that it wasn’t until you were right on the precipice of your release that you realized you were close.

“Steve,” you gasped, trying to tell him you were going to come, and just then he changed the angle of his hips, stealing the words from your lips.

He was driving his cock so deep into your cunt and grinding against your clit so exquistiely that you saw stars. Your body shook under a deluge of pleasure and the coil of tension twisted tighter in your core.

“Come for me, sunshine,” Steve rumbled, fucking you hard and deep and so perfectly you knew you were forever ruined for any other man. “Be a good girl and come on my cock before I fucking explode.”

His filthy words were your undoing.

You shattered apart, sharp, sparkling pleasure devastating your body and mind while you screamed Steve’s name as you came. Your whole body clenched tight, clamping down on Steve’s cock hard enough that he grunted into your neck, then you succumbed to the pleasure as it dragged you under its thrall, whimpers and moans spilling from your lips mindlessly.

Steve’s hands gripped your hips tightly, and he rutted into your clenching pussy with wild thrusts as he chased his own release. He found it only a moment after yours, groaning your name against your cheek while his hips stuttered and shunted forward, burying himself balls-deep in your fluttering pussy while he came, his cock throbbing deep in your cunt.

You held each other close as you came down from your releases. Your fingers stroked through Steve’s soft hair, the strands damp with sweat, and twirled around the gently curling ends. Meanwhile, his hands were petting up and down your sides, his face buried in the pillow beside your head while he rumbled muffled words of praise in your ear.

Eventually, Steve sat up, pulling his softening cock as gently from your body as he could manage, watching your face closely for any hint of pain. You were a little sore, but when he pulled free, your body mourned the loss of him more than anything else.

He quickly disposed of the condom and wrapper in his bathroom, then came back with a warm wet washcloth. He cleaned you up with gentle caresses, pressing a kiss to your hip and nipping playfully at your belly until you were giggling and pushing him away, your body too tired and sated and oversensitive for such treatment—but you were grinning all the same.

When he was done, you rose from the bed and went to the bathroom while he padded to his dresser. After you were done, you found Steve relaxing on his bed in only a pair of lounge pants, his chiseled chest deliciously bare and biceps bulging with his hands tucked behind his head.

You paused, raking your eyes over his gorgeous chest, only catching his gaze when he made a deep, rumbling sound of good-natured warning.

“You better put on some pajamas, sunshine,” Steve started, his blue eyes heated and a playful smile flickering at the edges of his mouth, almost hidden by his beard. “Unless you want me to fuck you again.”

The threat in his tone was flirtatious and you almost took him up on the offer. But you knew that if Steve fucked you again, you’d be sore the next day, and you didn’t want that. Huffing a petulant sigh, you moved to the pile of folded clothes Steve had left on the corner of the bed.

The heat in Steve’s eyes didn’t abate as he watched you pull one of his shirts over your head, tugging the hem down until it covered your ass and part of your thigh. You didn’t have any clean panties, so you crawled into bed like that, your eyes finding Steve and watching as the heat of desire softened into the warmth of affection.

The two of you slid beneath the blankets and you curled up at Steve’s side, your head on his chest. You fell asleep quickly and easily to the sound of his gentle breathing, and the steady drumming of his heart beating beneath your cheek.

The next morning, you woke to snow flurries drifting past the windows of Steve’s bedroom, the flakes having covered his neighborhood in a blanket of white while you slept. You pressed a happy smile against Steve’s sternum, the expression deepening when you felt his heart skip a beat at your closeness.

“So, is my bed comfy enough for you, sunshine?” he asked in the deep rasp of a man who’d just woken up. Using his arms looped around your waist, he pulled you on top of him, his mouth finding yours for a decadent good morning kiss before he let you answer.

“Hmm,” you hummed playfully in thought, smiling against his mouth while you pulled him closer with your fingers curled into the scruffy, coarse hair of his beard. “It could use a few more pillows—and maybe a nice throw blanket.”

“Consider it done,” he murmured, rolling you beneath his broad body and sliding his hips between your thighs. His morning wood brushed against your bare core and you moaned into his mouth. “Anything you want, you just tell me, sunshine,” he rumbled in between slow, drugging kisses, his hips rolling leisurely against you. “I want my girlfriend to feel comfortable here.”

“Girlfriend?” you gasped breathlessly, your heart beating harder with excitement while he pulled away to kiss down your neck. You could feel Steve’s grin against the side of your throat before he pressed a kiss against your thrumming pulse.

“You wanna be my girlfriend, don’t ya, sunshine?” he asked.

It was only because you’d known Steve for so long, and were so determined never to hurt him again, that you heard the tiny thread of anxiety in his tone. You squeezed him tightly in your arms and rushed to answer, eager to put his worry to rest.

“Yes!” you cried happily. “Yes, I want to be your girlfriend, Steve.” You twisted your fingers in his soft hair and tugged his mouth up from your neck. “Now kiss me, boyfriend,” you murmured and Steve, obligingly, crushed his mouth to yours in a blissful kiss.

You and Steve reveled in your new relationship, spending a long time in bed just kissing and exploring each other and making up for lost time before your growling stomachs finally made you get up.

After breakfast, Steve seemed to remember something and he padded to the entryway, coming back with the box he’d acquired at the holiday market the evening before. He handed it to you, saying there was no way he’d be able to wait until Christmas to give it to you.

You opened the present, finding a simple silver chain and a stunningly engraved sun pendant within. You were so overwhelmed with happiness that tears sprang to your eyes and you had to hastily wipe them away.

“A little bit of sunshine for my sunshine,” Steve murmured against your temple before pressing a kiss to your skin.

At your insistence, he helped you put the necklace on and you thanked him graciously—with words and kisses. Then you towed Steve back to bed, and the two of you gave in to the pleasure of your bodies until you collapsed, sated once again.

All day, you couldn’t stop smiling. You were doing one of your favorite things, snuggling on a snowy day, with one of your favorite people in the world—your boyfriend. And you were making plans for the future, talking about what you were going to get your other friends for Christmas and arguing about how to best decorate Steve’s apartment for the holiday.

The whole time, you couldn’t help but think about how Christmas would always be extra special for you from that year on. It was a wonderful holiday but, more importantly to you, it was when you and Steve Rogers finally admitted your feelings for one another and took the first step toward a forever together.

So, this time of year would always be your favorite time of year.

december daze challenge masterlist

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #navy and roo's sleepover #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers au #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #chris evans smut #witchywithwhiskeywork #december daze #friends to lovers

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screampied · 8 months ago

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ok hear me out toji is always rough and somehow mean when you fuck, but something happens to you (you can decide what) and he turns really soft and gentle for one night. just one.

❤︎ ໋𓈒 toji being soft with you for once

warnings. fem! reader, soft dom toji, praise, missionary, talking you through it, mdni.

being in bed with toji, he’s usually almost always rough and degrading. it’s something he’s mostly used to, however there’d be a specific time where he’d have to change things up . . . just for you.

he’d notice something’s wrong the minute he’s about to align himself again. you’re awfully quiet underneath him as you awaited and he’s well aware of how you keep avoiding his stoic gaze. “hm,” he’d ponder aloud with a mere natural pout. toji grabs ahold of your chin before softly stroking it with his thumb, making you stare right into his green curious irises. “something’s wrong. talk to me, babygirl.”

“nothing’s wrong, you can finish—”

“something’s wrong,” he repeats, his voice is a bit more stern yet it’s still gentle. he slows down and brings a thumb towards your cheek to lightly stroke it. “you’re avoiding eye contact,” he points out, still inside you yet he brings his hips to an abrupt pause. toji’s panting yet he takes a moment to breathe. “you can talk to me, y’know.”

you briefly meet his dark pupils before letting off a low exhale. “i . . had a bad day,” and then as he’s hovering over your body, you slowly drag out your final breathy words in a sheepish, “can you—can you hold my hand?”

“aw,” he teases, grabbing your hand before intertwining his thick stubby fingers with yours. his touch was so safe, so warm, so gentle. his thumb strokes against the back of your hand before he holds onto your hip with another. “want a head pat too, sweetheart?”

“s-shut up,” you moan, feeling the tip of his dick prof against your entrance. he wasn’t exactly moving but you still felt him. your ankle runs against toji’s back and he’s so close to you that you could smell the strong aroma of alcohol and mint linger on his breath. toji’s now softened gaze never leaves you and his kittenish eyes ease up soothingly. “just go slow ‘n hold my hand, toji.”

“so sensitive today,” he purrs, leaning to kiss the top of your forehead. it was something about his voice—the way he spoke to you currently, it was just so smooth. his eyes that were known to always be cruel and intimidating palliate just at the sight of you— the sight of his pretty girl underneath him, asking for a simple request to hold her hand. “. . mwah,” and the moment his lips brush against your skin, you let off a soft whine. “i’ll go niiice ‘n slow for you, yeah.”

once he finally picks up his pace again, he’s so gentle with you. the grip on your hand tightens a bit and you moan.

you’re always used to toji being so rough in bed, manhandling you and all—alas, you never exactly minded of course, but a change of pace like this was strikingly nice.

his stumpy fingers strum against yours before you feel his hips gradually move again. “t-toooji,” you whine out, watching as he kisses near your neck. so benign, so tender. toji was always familiar with every inch of your body. he knew the layout of your body as if it was an apartment. he always knew where to go, your weakest and most sensitive spots— forever engraved into his mind. with your eyes starting to roll back, you squeal out a shaky, “i l-love you.”

“cock drunk already?” he fake pouts, a smile curling against his lips before he slowly starts to thrust into you. the moans that left your mouth were incredibly melodic, a mere harmony he was listening to. toji couldn’t help but grin at your sweet words of whimpers of how much you loved him, losing yourself completely on his cock. “but i love you more, princess,” and he feels your ankle scrape further down his tense back muscles. a rigorous surge of wind forcefully plucks from your lungs and you struggle to suppress your own whines. so good, so thick. toji squeezes your hand tightly, giving your forehead another chaste kiss. “how’s it feel? ‘s slow enough for you, baby?”

“good, y—yes, ‘toj,” you whimper, both hands throwing around his broad neck, over his high rising shoulders. he was merely nude, only wearing a white tee to follow. the chain that was wrapped around his neck dangles against your face every so often and you mewl out a sweet desperate sob for more. “touch me more toji, p-please. touch me.”

he snickers. “oh. am i not touchin’ you?”

you pout and he’s enjoying your brief irritation. whenever you were getting frustrated—you always had such cute expressions, especially when your lip frowns up or your eyebrows twitch to show your sheer vex. with a sigh, you grumble, “kiss me, toji. i want a kiss.”

“you . . want a kiss?” he softly coos, his voice was as smooth as silk. so sweet, deliciously candied with each word he pronounces at you. the rasp underneath his tone only made you throb for an even longer time. with an eyebrow raise, toji accelerates his hips before he feels your gummy walls stretch out perfectly. you were so good for him, so fucking good. his cock rummages inside of you to where your eyes were merely reaching the sockets. until all you saw was nothing but black, an entire void of straight nothingness. as your eyes remain stuck back into the very depths of your cranium, he’s always loved looking at your dramatic expressions—especially whenever he was on top of you. “say please. ‘m bein’ soft for right now but don’t forget those manners i taught ya, sweetheart.”

you sigh again and he slyly smiles at your sheer frustration.

“. . pleaseee,” you whine out, dragging your nails down his back. by now, you were sure his back was coated with a few marks from your pointed fingertips. the way your bottom lip pokes out once you pout yet again was so adorable. “kiss me toji, please.”

“anything for the pretty girl,” he murmurs in a soft voice, bringing a rough hand to cup the right side of your face. his pace was just so tantalizingly slow, emitting out all types of whiney moans from your lips. toji leans in and the moment his lips press against yours, you whimper. he’s stuffing you full of inches in the meantime — feeling the way your walls adjust and constrict around him. as both lips are moving in rhythmic tavern, you legs squeeze around his slim jerking waist.

toji’s always been fond of your taste, so glacé. his tongue runs against your bottom lip, tasting your sweet lip gloss before he grunts into your mouth.

thick heavy balls slowly pound into you and his pace was so salaciously relentless that it welts out all kinds of squelches directly from your cunt.

“f-fuuck,” he groans, each pivot he creates only grows more rapid and sloppy. he’s so thorough, the angle makes you whimper into his mouth before you compress around his length tighter. he’s so close up to you, the warmth of his body colliding up against yours makes you throb more. toji’s speaking in between kisses — a string of spit departs each time he leaves, swiping his tongue against your lip before after about a nth amount of kisses later, he finally breaks away. “aw. did i love you too hard, princess? you look a little out of breath.”

“s—shut up,” you moan, clinging onto his back even tighter. he was right though, your lungs were strained and you were panting heavily, heaving. the wind gets yanked out of your throat before you slump back against the bed. “gonna c-cum, toji. gonna cum,” and then you meet his softly coy gaze— he returns the eye contact before you see a bit of tenderness in his dark irises. “please, please let me cum, ‘toj. pleaseee.”

the smile against toji’s lips further— you’re so cute, the way you were chasing your current orgasm. it felt like a wave, an abrupt wave that was about to collide. your cunt holds him hostage before he leans in to kiss the bridge of your nose.

“mwahhh,” he purrs softly, deepening his hits against you before your thighs end up aching underneath near the very undersides. he’s so deep that your jaw dangles open. hot breathy puffs of air leave past your lips before he strokes your cheek. “give it to me, baby. c’mon, i got you.”

as he’s talking in such a smoothly polished tone, his words send a plethora of butterflies inside of your stomach.

toji stares at you in such a lovingly way— it last for at least six seconds, he looks like he’s about to say something even further before he stops himself. “aw. don’t space out on me now, gorgeous,” and he strokes your cheek. “squeeze my hand, girl.”

“hngh c-cumming,” you whimper, feeling your stomach seize a few times before you finally climax. it comes at such a speed that you’re taken aback. your own clammy hand grips against his whilst a thumb strokes against his knuckles before he smiles. you’re shaking, convulsing and his cock’s still buried into you from the very hilt. toji leans in, his broad chest pressing against yours before he licks near your neck. you moan, feeling your collarbone start to dampen up from his wet tongue— toji chuckles, watching you spasm out on his length before he stops his hips again. “f-fuck.”

“. . . so cute,” he susurrates, and his deep raspy voice was a mere whisper. he spoke in a hushed tone, staring deeply into your eyes before picking up your hand to kiss it. “do you feel a little better?”

“a— a little,” you inhale a sharp breath, his weight just idly hovering over your hot-tempered body. everything felt so good, it was a reoccurring ring in your ears that always came whenever you were tweaking out on his dick— he’s always loved the twitch your lips make, failing to get your words out whenever you came. in rushed words, you whine out a sweet, “t-thank you toji, thank you,” and he’s taken by surprise once you pull him into nothing more than a sweet hug. “love you.”

it takes him a good minute to reply, he has a playful pout on his lips as he’s still inside—you feel his tip mash against your sweet spot, causing you to whimper against his ear before he kisses the sensitive outer shell of your earlobe.

“oh but i love you more, babygirl,” and you feel him gradually pull out. you frown at the sudden feeling of being empty before he hums at your expression. “now, let’s get some sleep. i’ll even sing you a song, just for you.”

#★vegasbaby.#toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #anime smut #female reader #cw sex mention

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rynbutt · 8 months ago

Text

safe. | spencer reid.

You were pregnant but JJ had just left the team and they needed you. You hadn't told anyone; you hadn't even told Spencer.

my masterlist!

cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, guns, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of drugs (antidepressants and opioids), mentions of car accident, gunshot wounds, death of pregnant woman, general criminal minds themes.

wc: 6.2k

a/n: bruh this was a looooong one! dw some banging smut coming in the next one with post-prison reid >:3

now playing... Fare Well by Hozier

This was really starting to piss you off.

You fell to your knees as bile pushed up your throat, your skin paling as you vomited for the third time today. You tried to keep something, anything, down but you would just wind up curled in on yourself and sweating in the corner of the bathroom stall. You ate a couple of crackers and sipped on water to keep your empty stomach satiated– But you always ended up right back here on the bathroom floor with your head between your knees trying to will the pain away.

Emily noticed your pale complexion and how exhausted you looked, offering to get you some medicine or ask Hotch about sitting out of the next few cases. You told her you were fine, that it was just stress. That answer seemed to satisfy her enough, though she wasn’t fully convinced. To be fair, your workload had increased tenfold since JJ was forced to accept the job at the Pentagon, and you missed her terribly but you were proud of her. But you really could have used her advice right about now.

Because you swore this baby had it out for you.

You found out you were pregnant just over a week ago and you still hadn’t told Spencer. You were still wrapping your head around the whole thing because initially, you didn’t think you were pregnant, you just thought your body was dealing with the stress and workload in, frankly, a bizarre way. Hotch had wanted you to take over doing JJ’s job as communication liaison, which were rather important shoes to fill. He had total faith in your ability to do JJ’s job as well as do your own as a profiler, but you weren’t so sure anymore.

You would tell Spencer when you were ready and right now was not a good time. Everyone was surviving on four hours of sleep a night, far too many cups of coffee and sheer willpower. The absolute last thing they needed was to lose another team member. So you soldiered on like a champion– a champion who still held her head over the bureau’s less than impressive toilet while she threw her guts up.

“Y/N?” You didn’t even hear the bathroom door open, the ringing rattling around your skull distracting you from your surroundings. Penelope’s heels clicked against the tiles as she cautiously peered around the wall of the last stall where you kneeled on the ground. “Oh my god, sweet thing! What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, Pen,” your voice was hoarse when you finally replied. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and tried to smooth your hair down, attempting to look at least semi-presentable before you left the bathroom to pretend everything was okay.

“No, no, my girl, you are not fine!” Penelope stood in behind you, pulling your hair out of your face as you vomited the last remnant of your soul into the toilet. “You need to talk to Hotch, you’ve got a bug or something, my dear. You shouldn’t even be at work when you’re this sick, let me talk to him for you and you just go home–”

“I’m not sick, Penelope!” You didn’t mean to shout at her, you really didn’t, you just felt awful and felt like a shell of yourself with how poorly you’d been sleeping and eating paired with all the stress of doing JJ’s job as well as your own. It was just a lot.

Penelope went quiet but stayed close to you, still holding your hair as you sat back on your heels, running your hands down your face. She let out a soft sigh, knowing you didn’t mean to shout at her. Penelope was stressed too– everyone was.

“I’m sorry, Pen,” you mumbled, your throat hurting from all the vomiting and coughing you’d managed to do today– it had to be a record honestly.

Penelope just shook her head at you, reaching her hand out toward you, “you don’t have to apologise, sweet girl, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.” You shook your head, you still felt bad and shouting at sweet Penelope was not the way to deal with all the emotions swirling around in your head.

“It’s not fair,” you replied as she helped you to your feet, gently guiding you over to the basin to help you clean yourself up. “You’re stressed too, I didn’t mean to yell.”

Penelope brushed some of your hair out of your face, her gaze narrowing as she watched you, waiting for you to tell her what was going on. It never came and she knew she would have to push you a little. Penelope thought it was necessary though because seeing you like this was awful and she couldn’t even imagine how Spencer would react if he knew how sick you were.

“What’s going on?” Penelope’s voice was soft; gentle, just trying to get you to talk so she could help. You were stubborn when it came to asking for help and by the time you did, you had hurt yourself more than necessary trying to solve it yourself. Not this time though– Penelope refused.

“I’m okay–” you looked at Penelope and she raised her brows at you, not accepting that answer in the slightest. You sighed, knowing this is a fight you wouldn’t win. “I’m pregnant.”

Penelope’s jaw nearly hit the floor. She knew something was up with you but pregnant? That was not on this year's bingo card. “What?? Y/N that’s–” she gauged your expression and she really couldn’t tell if you were upset or happy about being pregnant. She cut herself off before she finished her sentence, pulling her lips into a line. “Are we happy about this news or are we…?”

“We’re…” you were happy. Honestly, you were. You and Spencer had talked about having kids one day, ideally after you were married but that didn’t seem to be going to plan. You’d been with Spencer for three years, in the BAU for four, it’s not like your relationship was new or in the honeymoon phase, it just wasn’t the original plan and that scared the hell out of you. But you were happy to be carrying his child– the timing was just piss poor. “We’re happy… just scared.”

“Oh, baby,” Penelope cooed. “Of course you’re scared, it’s a huge adjustment. But I know you and I know Spencer, you guys will nail this parenting business.” Penelope managed to prove time and time again why she was your best friend. You often wondered if she knew you better than you knew yourself, which wouldn’t really surprise you given her job.

“I hope so.” You smiled softly, feeling somewhat human again after splashing water on your face and washing your hands. You knew Spencer would be a good dad, he was so good with kids and he was so gentle and patient with you. He was meant to be a dad. You just weren’t sure if you were meant to be a mother. You wanted to be a family with Spencer, it made you feel warm just thinking about it, but you were a person who worried about almost everything, even the things out of your control. What scared you was how in control you were.

“I’m surprised Spencer hasn’t told everyone, that boy is obsessed with you and you’re making him a dad? God, it must be killing him sitting on this–” Penelope suddenly looked at you wide-eyed, connecting the dots all on her own. You winced as you watched her figure it out, gritting your teeth as she let out a soft gasp. “You haven’t told him?!”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a muffled squeal of frustration into your palms. You would tell him eventually, just not right now, he was far too busy and was already stressing about his own workload, you couldn’t imagine how much more stressed he would be if he found out you were still in the field while pregnant.

“Pen, please,” you turned to her, “please keep this to yourself. I– We can’t deal with this right now. JJ’s gone and everyone is worked to the bone, I can’t do this to everyone right now, especially Spencer.” Penelope looked at you sympathetically, you knew you were asking a lot of her to keep it to herself, especially when Penelope wasn’t great at keeping secrets.

“Y/N, sweetie, you’re going to have to tell them eventually– You’re an FBI Agent. Being in the field is so dangerous and you don’t just have yourself to think about anymore.” You knew Penelope was right. You carried a gun around for Christ’s sake, you literally hunted down serial killers, active shooters, total psychopaths and everything in between. The field was no place for a pregnant woman.

“I know, I know,” you sighed, resting both of your hands on the basin in front of you.

“...How far along are you?”

“Twelve weeks,” you said softly, resting your hand against your belly. You didn’t have much of a bump yet but you were sure it would sneak up on you before you even realised. Lucky for you, you wore a lot of baggy sweaters around the office so you had some wriggle room when it came to hiding it.

“...My money’s on a girl,” Penelope was trying to make you feel better. She really was helping because the idea of Spencer hosting tea parties, getting covered in kitten stickers and his hair being covered in tiny butterfly clips made your heart swell.

You let out a soft laugh, “I think so too.”

“Alright, my love, I think we should leave this bathroom before they send out a search party,” Penelope laughed, linking her arm with yours to guide you out of the bathroom.

You honestly did feel better after talking to Penelope and throwing the rest of your guts up. She made sure to remind you about ten times to call her if you needed anything, you promised you would because it did make you feel better knowing that someone knew about your pregnancy and you didn’t have to bear the weight of the news alone.

You sat down at your desk with a sigh, sipping on your water bottle to soothe your raw throat. You popped a piece of gum in your mouth, willing the taste of bile away. You let out a huff of air as you stared down at all the paperwork you had to do. Doing JJ’s job proved to be intense, especially when you were doing your own work on top of her’s. You picked up your pen when you felt Spencer press a kiss to the crown of your head as he placed a mug of hot coffee on your desk in front of you.

You smiled, craning your neck to look up at him. Spencer took the opportunity to kiss you softly, one of his hands resting on the side of your desk while the other rested on the back of your chair. You smiled against his lips, “shouldn’t you be working?” You teased.

“Are you trying to get me to go away?” Spencer looked at you curiously. You rolled your eyes playfully because of course you didn’t want him to go away. If anything, you wanted him to pick you up and take you home right this second.

“Yes, Spencer,” you replied sarcastically, “I’m trying to get you to go away.” Spencer wasn’t great with sarcasm but he had come to understand your humour over the years. He just grinned and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“Sarcasm is rooted in truth, angel,” Spencer retorted with a gentle smile.

“I am joking, but we both have a lot of work to do, Spence. I don’t know how I’m going to manage doing JJ’s job as well as my own,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.

“There’s a reason Hotch wanted you to do it. I don’t think he could have picked anyone more capable,” Spencer replied. Maybe it was the hormones and the fact you were carrying a baby, but the comment made you want to cry. Spencer frowned as he watched your face fall, “what’s wrong, angel?”

“No, nothing,” You replied, sniffling quietly. You gave him a genuine smile, “I’m fine, Spence. I promise–”

“New case just came in,” Morgan called to the two of you, gesturing toward the meeting room at the back of the office with a manila folder in his hand.

You looked at Morgan with a confused expression because now it was your job to decide what cases the team took after JJ’s departure. Morgan told you the case went straight to Hotch this time; an old friend had called in a favour.

Spencer pulled a chair out for you, taking the seat right beside you in the meeting room. You opened the case file the moment Penelope dropped it in front of you.

“The victims are 20-year-old Evan Miller and 21-year-old Daniel Clark, both engineering students at Caltech. They were shot three days apart outside their family homes in the local area of Pasadena, California.” You followed along with Penelope as she gave a run down of the victims and the circumstances of their deaths.

The killings were straightforward, the UnSub didn’t try to dispose of the bodies and the men were simply shot in the head execution style. It didn’t seem like the doings of a serial killer who would usually seek some kind of sexual release from torturing and killing their victims. If anything, it seemed like revenge killings.

“They were just shot?” Emily questioned, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the crime scene photos.

“Once in the head,” Hotch replied, “there were no witnesses around which suggests the UnSub knew the routine of the victims and the neighbourhood.”

“Could be a stalker?” Penelope suggested.

“Stalker victims are usually the object of a stalker’s affection, they rarely act in violence let alone such a blunt killing,” You replied, confused by the nature of such a straightforward murder.

Spencer flicked through the victim’s files, “the single shot to the head suggests the UnSub just wanted them dead. No physical evidence of sexual release or torture… This could be some kind of revenge killing.”

“Did these victims know each other?” You asked.

“According to their parents, they came from the same friend group,” Penelope replied.

“Wheels up in thirty. Garcia, you're coming with us. Get your go bag,” Hotch said, quickly standing up from his chair. Penelope made a small noise of surprise before quickly ushering out of the meeting room. Hotch didn’t usually have Penelope come along but given you were short a very valuable member of your team, Penelope had started coming along more often. Not that you would ever complain having Penelope around.

You pinned up the last of the crime scene photos on the board, standing back with your hands on your hips. Spencer was writing on the whiteboard next to you, jotting down all the things you knew about the victims and possible motives of the UnSub. Hotch and Morgan were engaging in formalities with the local detectives on the case while Penelope got herself settled in the makeshift office they had set up for the team.

“The parents of the victims are here,” Emily poked her head into the office. “Y/N, Hotch wants you to talk to Ben and Sarah Miller, I’ve got the Clarks.”

“Alright, I got it,” you replied, letting out a dejected sigh.

“You okay?” Spencer gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear, turning his full attention to you. You let out another sigh, nodding your head tiredly. “You can do this,” he said quietly, his eyes shifting between yours.

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled softly. Spencer planted a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving the office, leaving Spencer and Penelope alone.

“...I think she needs a break,” Penelope said after a beat.

Spencer looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, “what makes you say that?”

Penelope tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, “she’s doing JJ’s job and her own. I mean, I think she’s the right girl for the job but… you know what she’s like.”

Spencer sighed, he knew exactly what you were like. You always held yourself and your work to such a high standard and you often overworked yourself to make everyone happy. “Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to her when we get back to the hotel.”

“I think that’s a great idea, lover boy,” Penelope grinned.

You opened the office door, files in hand. Mr and Mrs Miller immediately stood up as you entered and you gave them a sympathetic smile. Mrs Miller had clearly been crying, still clutching a tissue in her hand while her husband paced around the office.

“Please, have a seat, Mr Miller,” you said gently.

“I’ll stand,” he replied firmly. You decided not to argue and sat down on the chair opposite the couch where Mrs Miller sat.

“Mrs Miller, I’m Agent L/N, I’m with the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the FBI–”

“FBI?” She questioned. “Was Evan in trouble?”

“We suspect he and his friend Daniel were killed by the same person,” you explained. Mrs Miller let out a soft gasp, her hand coming to rest over her mouth.

“Is it alright if I ask you a few questions about Evan?” You asked. Sarah didn’t say anything but she nodded her head, fresh tears forming in her eyes. “Daniel and Evan knew each other, right?”

“They went to high school together,” Sarah replied, her voice shaking. “They were so excited when they both got into Caltech,” she smiled sadly, fresh tears streaming down her face.

“Do you have any idea who killed our son?” Ben asked, his voice sounding angry.

“That’s what we’re here for,” you said, “we’re here to find who killed your son and why–”

“‘Why”?” Ben repeated, “he was just a kid.”

You sighed softly, “I understand that, sir. We’re just trying to figure out a possible connection.”

“Evan and Daniel were good kids. They would never hurt a fly,” Sarah frowned, sniffling softly as she began crying again.

“Did Daniel and Evan hang around the same social groups?” You asked, turning your attention to Mr Miller, who was still pacing around the office with his arms crossed. “Maybe in some kind of extracurricular activities?”

“They were both on the college basketball team,” Ben said after a beat. “Why? You think this asshole is going to kill more of these kids?”

“I am just trying to get an idea of the social groups Evan and Daniel were a part of,” you didn’t want to get into the gory details of why you were asking such questions and decided they were both far too emotional for you to keep asking them questions; you would let Hotch handle it. “I need to speak with my team but I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” You rested a hand on Mrs Miller’s shoulder and you couldn’t shake how much you missed JJ doing this part.

You let out a sigh as you left the office, rubbing the tension in the back of your neck. You slowly walked over to Hotch, “Evan was on the Caltech Basketball team, he and Daniel went to high school together and Evan’s parents were adamant he was a good kid. I think he was a good kid, just got involved with the wrong people.”

Hotch let out a breath, “I want you and Prentiss to go to the school, talk to the faculty, basketball team coach, anything you can get.”

You nodded, gesturing to Emily on the other side of the bullpen. She firmly nodded at you and the two of you left for the school.

The team worked the case for two days before another body showed up. Everyone was starting early and finishing late to find the person who was doing this and you worked closely with the detectives and other officers on the case. Hotch gave the profile as soon as the team was certain but given the demographic of the suburban areas he was targeting these boys, it was rather unremarkable. The third body belonged to 21-year-old Oliver Marsh, another Caltech student studying Physics. He was shot once in the head while walking his dog no further than a block from his house.

You stood in the middle of Oliver’s bedroom staring at the posters and certificates that littered his walls. Spencer rifled through papers on his desk, mostly finding papers related to physics journals and essays for school. Emily and David were downstairs talking to the parents while Hotch and Morgan went to see the crime scene.

You walked over to his bedside table pulling it open. There were a lot of birthday cards and a game boy but what caught your attention was the little clear yellow bottles with white caps. You lifted the first bottle out, reading the label–

“Oliver was taking Oxycodone,” you said softly, catching Spencer’s attention. “...And Escitalopram,” you spun on your heel, showing Spencer the two bottles. Spencer took the bottles from your hands, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully read the labels. “Chronic pain?” you suggested.

“Could be,” Spencer replied. “He could have been taking non-steroidal anti-inflammatories too, they’re typically over the counter.”

You rifled through the drawer again, pulling out a blue box, “Yeah, he was taking Ibuprofen too.”

“We should talk to the parents,” Spencer said. You nodded and the two of you ushered down the stairs to where his parents sat in the living room with David and Emily. “Was Oliver suffering from chronic pain?” Spencer quickly questioned before he even fully made it into the living room.

Oliver’s mother held a tissue to her nose, glancing at Emily with a confused expression. You put your hand on Spencer’s bicep, “Has Oliver injured himself recently? Maybe a fall or injury while playing sports?”

Oliver’s father shook his head, “No, not recently. He’s been on those antidepressants for a few years and takes the codeine when he has– had flare-ups.”

“Flare-ups?” David asked pointedly.

“He was in a car accident four years ago,” Mrs Marsh said, “He was in the passenger seat and was in a coma for two weeks… he hadn’t really been the same after that, got really sad and antisocial… he was in a lot of pain too.”

“He had to stop playing Football and running track, his body just couldn’t keep up,” Mr Marsh added, his eyes glazing over. “He lost a lot of friends, I don’t think I ever saw him hang out with anyone, Physics became everything to him.”

“Do you have evidence of his medical records anywhere?” Spencer asked. “Just so I can look them over.”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Mrs Marsh stood up, Spencer following her to their home office on the other side of the house.

You sat down across from Mr Marsh, “The accident he was in,” you started, “what happened?”

He looked at you with a pain in his eyes, “He was in the car with some of his friends and they were driving home from a party and it was late. I think they were all…” he hesitated for a moment, “they were all drunk.”

“Who was in the car?” Emily asked, not liking where this was going.

“...Evan Miller and Daniel Clark,” his father began to cry, holding his hand over his mouth. You felt your eyes widen, this was a revenge killing.

“Who was driving, Mr Marsh?” David asked quickly.

“Um, god–” He sniffled softly, “Peter… Peter something, he was older than them, I really don’t remember.”

“Thank you, Mr Marsh,” You stood up, quickly moving to the front door to call Penelope. You pulled out your phone, dialling her number. She picked up after the first ring.

“How may I be of service, oh queen of my country?” she sang, her fingers typing furiously against her keyboard.

“I need you to look into an accident for me, four years ago,” you said with your hand on your hip. “Oliver Marsh, Daniel Clark and Evan Miller were all in the accident too. See if you can find newspaper articles, news segments, anything– I think we know who the last target is.”

“Right, give me a moment,” Penelope replied. You heard her typing before she stopped, “Oh no…” she mumbled softly.

“What’s wrong, Pen?” You furrowed your brows.

“Peter Harvey,” Penelope sighed, “he’s the last boy… He was driving with three other high school boys; Oliver, Daniel and Evan when they struck an oncoming car and killed a pregnant woman on impact; her husband walked away without a scratch.”

“Shit.” You cursed, “What’s his name?”

“Jonathan Hughes, his wife was Katherine… she was 8 months pregnant, Y/N.” Penelope sounded so pained and you knew she was thinking of you and the small baby you were carrying. “Y/N…”

“I know, Pen… After this case wraps up… I’ll tell everyone,” you replied with a gentle sigh.

“And you’ll take time off?” Penelope sounded like she was lecturing you.

You smiled to yourself, “Yeah, Penelope. I’ll take some time off.”

“Okay… I’ll send Hotch and Morgan Jonathan’s last known address, I’m sending you Peter Harvey’s address–”

Your phone beeped as Penelope sent the address through. “Where would I be without you, Pen?”

“Nowhere good, my love,” you could hear the smile in her voice. You quickly hung up before walking back into the Marsh’s house.

Emily and David turned to look at you, “We’ve got him.”

“Alright, you guys go, I’ll grab Reid and we’ll be right behind you,” David waved you off and Emily quickly ushered the two of you to the car.

Emily was speeding toward the address Penelope had given you while you called Hotch and Morgan, filling them in on all the information Penelope had given you. They agreed to go to Jonathan’s address to hopefully intersect him before he left for Peter Harvey. You were always nervous when it came to these parts of the case because you couldn’t control the outcome no matter how hard you tried. A grieving man was going around killing these young men and while it was awful what he was doing; you could sympathise with him and the pain he was feeling over losing his wife and unborn child.

You instinctively rested a hand over your belly, your thumb stroking the small curve. You couldn’t even imagine how much pain Spencer would be in if he lost you, let alone your child too. You would tell him and you would ask Hotch about taking some time off later in your pregnancy and sitting out of cases like this.

“Shit he’s already here,” Emily cursed when she noticed Jonathan’s SUV parked a couple of blocks from Peter’s address. “Call Hotch.”

You dialled Hotch’s number and he picked up almost instantly, “What is it, L/N?”

“He’s already here, his SUV is parked a couple blocks down from Peter’s address. He’s already out looking for him,” You quickly said.

“We’re on our way, units are already on route,” he hung up after that.

Emily pulled the car up on the gutter, the car skidding to a stop. You immediately pushed the door open, holding your gun by your thigh as you ran across the lawn to Peter Harvey’s house. You knocked on the door and a woman answered after a beat.

“Mrs Harvey?” You asked, panting softly.

“Yes?”

“Is your son Peter here?”

“No, he went to the store down the street an hour ago, he should be back soon… What is this about?” She asked, her hand gripping the door in concern.

“We believe someone dangerous may be looking for your son,” Emily said. Mrs Harvey rested her hand over her mouth, a soft gasp leaving her lips.

“Mom?” You spun around and Peter stood with a plastic bag of groceries in his hand in the middle of the lawn.

It all happened almost in slow motion. You saw a figure wearing dark clothes stalking across the lawn and without even thinking, you darted toward Peter as the UnSub pulled the gun out of his coat, aiming it straight at Peter’s head. You could hear Emily yelling at Mrs Harvey to go back inside before she pulled out her gun and aimed it at the UnSub; but it was too late.

You shoved Peter to the ground as he fired, feeling the shot burn through your shoulder as both you and Peter fell to the ground. You instinctively pressed a hand to your burning shoulder, warm blood oozing from the wound and through your fingers.

“Jonathan Hughes?” You said, your breathing heavy as you tried to fight through the pain. He held his gun right in front of your face.

“Move,” he grunted, his eyes glassy.

“I know what happened to your wife,” you breathed trying to stall him as more police cars with blaring sirens pulled into the street.

“They killed her,” tears streamed down his face and you honestly felt bad for him.

“It was an accident,” you replied softly.

“They were drunk,” he almost yelled, his hand shaking as his gun was still trained on you.

“I know,” you said, “It was a stupid mistake that haunted them, Jonathan. I know it doesn’t change what happened but these boys–”

“They’re monsters!” he shouted, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

You saw David and Spencer get out of the car. Spencer’s heart was in his throat when he saw you kneeled on the ground, shielding Peter with your body while your hand and shirt were covered in your own blood. He didn’t even pick up his gun as he began stalking toward you.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft when he called you at first, then it turned to outright concern and anger, “Y/N? No, no!”

David grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him back as Spencer fought against him, trying to get to you. It was irrational and it was dangerous. David quickly picked up his walkie, “An agent has been shot, we need an ambulance.”

“Who was shot?!” Penelope’s voice rang out in the car as she spoke to Morgan and Hotch.

“I repeat, agent L/N is shot, we need an ambulance,” David spoke before putting his walkie away to hold Spencer back, pulling him to the ground.

“Morgan! Oh my god!” Penelope felt tears form in her eyes.

“It’s okay, babygirl, she’s going to be alright,” Morgan said, trying to reassure her as Hotch stepped on the accelerator.

“No, Morgan, you don’t understand–”

“We’re going to get an ambulance–”

“She’s pregnant!” Penelope blurted out, not knowing what else to say for them to understand the gravity of why Penelope was so upset and concerned.

Hotch hesitated for a moment, “She’s what?”

Penelope let out a shaky breath, “she’s twelve weeks pregnant, Hotch. She wasn’t going to tell anyone until after the case– and now she’s been shot.” Penelope began to cry, holding her hand over her mouth as tears slipped from her eyes.

Hotch hadn’t sped that fast since he found out Foyet was in his house. He cared about his team a lot and he had a soft spot for you even though he wouldn’t admit it. The tires skidded along the road as Hotch pulled on the handbrake, both him and Morgan training their guns on the UnSub as they approached.

Morgan’s heart hurt at the sight of you, your skin slightly paled as blood bloomed from your shoulder, drenching your arm and your hands. You looked so scared as the UnSub trained his gun on you, unmoving. Emily had her gun aimed at the UnSub, yelling for him to put it down.

“Jonathan Hughes!” Morgan’s voice caught your attention. “Put down the gun!”

“Don’t move!” Jonathan shouted, “I’ll shoot her!”

“No you won’t, man,” Morgan shook his head.

“How do you know that!? She’s in my way!” He shouted back.

“She’s pregnant,” Morgan sighed. Your eyes widened as you looked at Morgan, who looked back at you with a sad expression.

Spencer stopped fighting against David, his breathing evening out as the words fell on his ears. You were pregnant. You were carrying his baby and you got shot and now you had a gun held up in front of your face. Spencer didn’t even realise he was crying, his tears cold against his warm skin. All he could do was watch, there was nothing he could do.

Jonathan glanced at you as you held your hand over your belly. “W-What?”

Morgan reached a hand out as he got closer. “Just like your wife, Jonathan… You wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman like those boys did.”

Jonathan seemed to dissociate, staring at you with such a hurt expression as Morgan leapt forward, grabbing the gun from Jonathan’s hands and tossing it across the grass. He pushed Jonathan to the ground, pinning his hands behind his back. You let out a breath as you felt yourself grow tired. Emily caught you before you fell the rest of the way to the ground, holding you close to her body as she screamed for a medic.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Emily gently rocked you, “you’re going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears running down your cheeks.

Your eyes were heavy as you attempted to pry them open.

You let out a shaky breath as you finally pulled your eyes open, the smell of disinfectant hit you first, followed by the sounds of beeping. You were in the hospital. You glanced down at your arm, an IV stuck in your arm while a pulse oximeter was clipped to your finger. Despite the fact the doctor had prescribed pain medication, you still felt like shit and your shoulder was killing you.

A soft noise caught your attention and you glanced at the chair next to your bed, Spencer sound asleep in a chair with a hospital blanket draped over him. You smiled softly as you saw the flowers, balloons and plushies littered around your room, most likely a courtesy of Penelope.

“She’s awake,” Morgan smiled, standing in the doorway.

You grinned at him, “Hi, Derek.”

Morgan slowly walked over to your bed. “Feeling okay, pretty girl?” Morgan gently grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I’m okay,” you replied. You almost didn’t want to ask but you knew you had to, “...is the baby okay?”

“Your baby is fine,” Morgan replied with a soft smile. You let out a breath of relief as you placed a hand over your tummy protectively. “...You scared the life out of everyone though.”

“I know,” you sighed.

“Especially your lover boy,” Morgan said, “he hasn’t left your side.”

“Sounds like my Spencer,” you laughed softly.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was laced with sleep as he opened his eyes. He quickly got up, ditching the blanket on the floor to tend to you.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Morgan quickly said before leaving the room.

Spencer’s warm hands cupped your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I thought I lost you, Y/N.” He let out a breath, pulling away to stare at your face and stroke your cheeks with his thumbs. You reached a hand up to grip his forearm.

“I’m sorry–”

“You don’t need to–”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Tears formed in your eyes as you stared up at him, searching for any kind of anger or resentment. There wasn’t any, he could never be mad at you.

“I wouldn’t have let you come on the case,” he replied after a beat. “I wouldn’t have let you leave the house.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you… I knew you would be protective– more protective,” you corrected with a soft smile.

“I’m aware,” Spencer pulled his lips into a tight smile. “You know the odds of… complications are higher in the first trimester, angel. You should have told me,” he frowned.

“I know, Spence,” you sighed. “I just wanted to make sure I was in the clear before I told you… I understand being shot isn’t necessarily helping with that but–”

“I understand,” he replied. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You stared at him for a moment, “are you happy?”

“Happy?”

“That I’m pregnant? I know we’re not married and our jobs are crazy but–”

Spencer cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips, he pulled away slightly, “I’ve never been more happy,” he whispered.

You beamed with happiness, a bright smile tugging on your lips. Spencer hesitantly pressed a hand to your belly, his thumb stroking your tiny bump.

“Penelope thinks it’s a girl,” you muttered.

“...What do you think?” He asked curiously.

“I think she might be right,” you giggled softly.

“You know you can’t actually tell yet,” Spencer said and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“You asked what I thought!” you retorted.

He laughed softly, “Yes, you’re right, you’re right.”

“Mmm, did that taste like poison to admit?”

“Are gunshot victims supposed to be this mouthy?”

a/n: phew! i hope you guys liked it <3 i know i disappeared for a hot minute but here she is!!!

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tojiphile · 1 year ago

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ONE PIECE LIVE ACTION MEN + DICK HEADCANONS & SIZES

a/n. i wrote this last night at 5am while sleep deprived so the further it gets the more wack it gets LOL

cw/tw. f!reader, rough sex, blowjobs, dirty talk, slight exhibitionism, body hair, skinny penis, unprotected sex, for 18+ readers

MONKEY D. LUFFY

— 6.5” but thinks he’s average, so he doesn’t stretch it out with his abilities. not too girthy, but he makes up for it with his unrelenting stamina. it curves up against his stomach and leans left slightly. a little bit messy because he tried to shave it once and nicked himself, so he just settled with the hair. honey-toned towards the base and a deep red at the tip, especially when he’s raring to go.

— he wants to do it in every position, on every surface. he has you bent over the dinner table, one leg up and slamming into you mercilessly. he has you spread eagle in the bathtub, legs locked behind his back as he stuffs you full. it’s almost as if his dick is made for you, the curve perfectly abuses your g-spot as every orgasm overwhelms you, and you’re left a sobbing, babbling mess. he wants to know if he’s doing well, and he gets his answer when you chant “s— so, ah! good, fuck, d— don’t stop!” like a prayer.

RORONOA ZORO

— long, fat and heavy. he’s blessed with a stunning 7.3” length, though if anyone asks, he rounds down to make them feel more at ease. veiny. the mushroom tip is flushed purple, and it’s rests nicely on your tongue!! probably messy down there, he doesn’t see the point in shaving or trimming, but if you ask nicely, he’ll grunt, roll his eyes, and do it for you.

— you insisted that you didn’t need any prep, but as you straddled him, lining up your cunt with his cock, you soon realised your mistake. you have to spread yourself open, face scrunching up, and slowly sink down. he loves the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering as you start riding him. when your eyes flutter shut and your hips stutter, he takes control—holding you tight by the waist and fucking into you until you’re screaming.

SANJI VINSMOKE

— 6.4” and so so pretty. slender, with a pale shaft that leads into a rosy pink at the tip. it curves up and to the right. the carpet matches the drapes. he keeps it neat, though he probably doesn’t grow much hair anyway. he trims it once every few days, but he’ll never admit to it. smells the best AKA smells really clean, like soap.

— he goes crazy when you maintain eye contact and drop to your knees. you take his cock in hand, lifting it to run your tongue on the underside, tracing a prominent vein. you swirl your tongue around his sensitive head and his whole body is shaking, knees buckling as he chases that familiar high.

USUPP

— coming in at 5.8”, he makes up for it in his thick girth. when he jerks himself off, he can barely wrap his hand around it. he’s soooo sensitive that the wind can blow and he’s be hard. fat fat fat mushroom head that’s olive, golden-hued, and always oozing precum. heavy heavy balls. he might be clumsy and inexperienced, but his size alone is enough to make you drool. trims sometimes but only when he thinks he might get lucky.

— his hand grips your hair as you worship his cock, working magic with your mouth. as you jerk him off, you give small kitten licks to his leaking tip, tasting his salty precum. you whisper, “i want you” and before you know it, he has you pinned under him, rutting his thick cock into you desperately. his eyes are fixated on the way your cunt swallows him, and only strangled groans escape his lips.

BUGGY

— sorry buggy simps but he’s definitely a shower not a grower, though he still does comes in at a nice 6”! also, it’s ya boy, skinny penis. built like a tree branch but at least it’s really veiny, AND he knows how to talk you through it. so really, it might not be the most impressive but with his confidence when he’s fucking you? he’ll fuck you out and make you believe he’s 8” and 5”.

— he loves admiring your sopping cunt as it swallow him whole, your princess parts stretching to to accommodate his cock. he likes to fucks you. he presses you up against a window and fucks you from the back, choking you with his forearm and practically purrs, “taking me so well, ya dirty slut, fuckin’ cunt was made for my cock.”

SHANKS

— he doesn’t act like it buuuuuuut monster cock. it’s 7.8”, thick, and curved so much it slaps against his happy trail. let me tell you that when he sun tans, he does it naked. he lathers that horse cock up with sunblock and spreads eagle on the sand, hands behind his head, so he’s bronzed and beautiful. trims when he feels like it or if you ask, he doesn’t really think much about it.

— he doesn’t look like he’s putting in much effort when he fucks, barely breaking a sweat, but he has you writhing, hands gripping the sheets, eyes hazy and choking on your own spit. he knows what he’s doing to you. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing in delicate circles making you cum over and over again until you’re absolutely wrecked. when he’s close, he picks up the pace, grunting heavily, hips stuttering as he spills his seed inside of you. when he pulls out, he takes the time to finger fuck his cum back into you, your body shaking as you work through the aftershock.

#tojiphile #one piece #one piece smut #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #usupp x reader #buggy x reader #shanks x reader #luffy x you #zoro x you #sanji x you #usupp x you #buggy x you #shanks x you #one piece live action #one piece x reader #smut blog

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onlywantlove · 1 year ago

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I had such a wonderful time but I’m ngl I’m pretty disappointed that I didn’t get any photos of my whole outfit that I feel confident about and happy with

#good thing I took a few selfies before we left #the photos I did get are just rushed and my bangs had been completely messed up by the wind while waiting in line #and my group was just going between happy and hangry so it wasn’t v fun trying to make time to take them and we had to cut that short….#I just thought I’d get some worthwhile pictures that I can look back on #the concert was really great tho and I cried so much during it and didn’t sit down once #stay stay stay and all of the boys are both faves of two of my cousins I was with so I’m totally so happy they got those #but also I have to cry at how my friend had gotten tickets to last night’s show thinking we could go together but then it turned out I was #already going to the saturday show and she should’ve gotten friday…………#it’s okay like I had a blast but. you have to laugh 🙃#kyra speaks

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foreverdolly · 10 months ago

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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)

word count: 5.3k

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The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed.

“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before.

“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother.

Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious.

“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.”

There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger.

“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.

Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early.

Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast.

“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free.

You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie.

“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home.

Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar.

What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals.

Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries.

‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed.

“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience.

He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you.

“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress.

“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind.

You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand.

“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you.

“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.”

Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling.

“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you.

Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door.

The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead.

“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you.

“As they have been taught, your reverence.”

In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years.

Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down.

“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.”

For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.

“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection.

“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.

“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you.

“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful.

“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before.

“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door.

“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you.

Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face.

“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you.

Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?”

You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one.

“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down.

“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting.

It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat.

“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction.

It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight.

You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep.

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.”

The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head.

“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.”

The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room.

“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen.

Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful. “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”

Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime.

It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different?

Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different.

“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew.

Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with.

Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing.

“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap.

He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively.

Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face.

“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke.

Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.

“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.”

Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for.

“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly.

You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul.

But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted.

“Soon.”

You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up.

You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation.

You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly.

He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent.

The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better.

You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right.

You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach.

“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence.

Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive.

But god, you wanted to live.

Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer.

‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides.

As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front.

You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression.

“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view.

Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability.

Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd.

He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime.

He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago.

You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you.

“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?”

You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes.

“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side.

Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements.

The two of you were communicating.

“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?”

His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you.

It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days.

In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child.

Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him. He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress.

You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in.

You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother.

You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it.

“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of.

“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves.

Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position.

His tone felt off, like he was toying with you.

“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin.

You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this.

You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime.

“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge.

This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.

“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?”

“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter.

“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing.

“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.”

It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame.

“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir.

“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.”

Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough.

“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?”

“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before.

A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed.

This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain.

“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover.

The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer.

“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.

The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying.

Animal, indeed.

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

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A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!

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