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orchidyoonkook · 3 months ago

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To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 8

Title: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: You're just there to help JK with his final project, so why are you being doused in water, facepaint and smoke? Art. Art is why.

Warnings: T, language, fluff, angst, honestly this one's kinda wholesome and fun, some photogrpahy jargin in there, but nothing a quick google search can't fix if you really need to <3, it's mostly surface level jargin. Also the smoke machine works cuz JK has great ventilation due to the massive windows being open, so don't worry bout that XD, some light and fun name calling, some world building. Ask if you need clarification on anything. That's all I think!

Word Count: 11,684

Release Date: September 1, 2024. 4:30PM

A/N 1: Surprise! Happy JK Day.

PJK [7:36pm]: Saturday afternoon. my place. 11am. PJK [7:36pm]: bring an extra set of clothes, something warm. Sweats if you have them. PJK [7:37pm]: also, Im gunna need your shirt size

The first three weeks of November have flown by and dragged on at the same time.

The weather’s getting colder. You need a thick jacket if you want to be anywhere outside, and all leaves have fallen from the trees, leaving pines the only ones left with their winter coats on. Hot chocolate from greenhouse cafe has become part of your life’s blood so you don’t freeze, and gloves with pocket warmers inside them are once again a part of your everyday.

But November skies have returned. And you frequently set up camp on the drying grass beside the greenhouse, dressing your canvas with oil paint to their likeness as it’s the only paint that doesn’t dry the second it’s out of the tube in the cold, static air.

Jungkook told you earlier in the week the shoot would most likely be this weekend, and that he just had a few final strings to pull together before being able to confirm. So with that in mind, you intentionally tried to finish all your work before this weekend, knowing the shoot will take a while to complete.

He mentioned it may leak over into Sunday depending on how much you get done on the first day, which is fine with you considering you usually spend Sunday evenings at his place anyway. You’d consider it an extended edition of your regularly scheduled broadcast.

And speaking of regularly scheduled, you haven’t missed a single movie night since Nel left. Granted, it’s only been three weeks, but even missing the two you did because of Nel had made an impact.

You’d gotten so used to them, having that time to destress and unwind before the week starts. A nice little routine that helps reset you both mentally and physically.

Suddenly not having that was…a weird feeling you try not to remember.

And you are more than happy to never miss another one ever again.

You aren’t sure what Jungkook tells Adaline he’s doing during movie night, but she’s never interrupted you, not even once. And it’s something you are increasingly grateful for, because she is one of the things you destress from as your unspoken rivalry always amps up the closer to exam season you get.

It’s Thursday evening, and you’re in your room finishing up a Microeconomics 3 assignment while piano music plays on a speaker in the corner. You use it to help you focus, and it’s working its magic as you’re finishing your work in record time.

Music has always helped you work better, and you credit it largely with how you’ve been able to keep up with everything in your schooling.

Yuri’s in her room, doing homework as well you assume. Or maybe texting Tai—the dreamy, big dicked Ilcalos island Count—you swear she’s only put her phone down for sleep and showering, as she’s constantly checking to see if he’s messaged her. And you hope it turns out well for them, Yuri deserves someone who treats her well. Especially after the whole Jungkook debacle—which you’re not allowed to bring up—and then the poor rebound you aren’t allowed to talk about either. You’re just happy she’s finally found someone worth her time.

Picking up your phone, you shoot Jungkook a text back.

You [7:40pm]: okay! saturday at 11 sounds good. I’ll bring sweats and warm socks

You message him your shirt size too, curious as to what he’ll use it for, but you’re sure you’ll find out in due time. You always do.

Subject to many of his homework assignments, you’ve been posed and lit and adjusted every which way.

Jungkook is incredibly professional when you’re with him as a model. Light touches to correct posing, always with a ‘may I’ before he does, and he fills the room with kind words, good vibes, and fun music so you never feel awkward.

At first you were really iffy on the whole idea when he first asked in September, because it would be the prince of your nation photographing little ol’ you. You weren’t anything special—yet—and you’re still never one for being in the spotlight, or for being on camera. At all. But if it was just for homework, and you were helping out a friend…you figured why not?

It helped that all of your worries immediately faded when you saw the results of that first shoot.

An email from a very non-princely email address found its way into your inbox. The subject was the date of the shoot, and the only message inside being:

thanks. Hope you like them.

Let’s do it again sometime.

-J

When you opened the attachments you made a quick dive to catch the phone that fell from your hands in shock.

You looked…beautiful. Like you never had in pictures before. Not in school, or at graduation, not even in the ones you took of yourself.

You didn’t know you were capable of looking like that.

Like how he saw you. Captured you.

And you’ll never admit you’ve held your chin a little higher with every shoot since.

They make you feel powerful, attractive. More confident, and sure of yourself, as if you were always meant to be in front of a camera. Like you’d been in front of one since before you could walk.

They do that for you.

He…does that for you—with his pictures, of course.

Jungkook is very talented. Very skilled with his camera, and you find yourself looking forward to the concepts he comes up with every time. Trusting him and whatever his vision is wholeheartedly.

Though a small, immature piece of you is also pleased he still wants you to model, and not Adaline. That he finds you easier to work with over her.

Your competitive streak never fails to come out, even with the smallest, secretive things.

Take that Adaline.

You gladly help him out with his homework, and he does the same for you.

If you ever need a male reference or a profile study. Anatomy practice, features practice, likeness practice. Anything and almost everything, all you have to do is ask, and he sits still or places whatever you need in front of you while you sketch.

Hands, however, have always been a personal favourite of yours.

They’re one of those things that can be drawn a hundred different ways and never look the same. Always a new position you can put them in. Consistently able to shake things up. And one set is never like the others—like eyes. There’s little differences in all of them and that’s where their magic lies.

You do these studies at the greenhouse, it has the best light to shadow ratio. When you ask him for one, he’ll switch to working with one hand, while the other does whatever you tell it. Normally either placed on your table or if there isn’t enough room, which nine times out of ten there isn’t because of all your supplies, you stick your foot on the lower metal frame of his table and he rests his arm, wrist or palm on your up bent knee.

Due to this, you’ve unintentionally come to find out that his hands are very strong, very calloused, and very, very warm…

Also! Aside from hand studies, you love loose figure studies because they’re great warm up sketches. And what Jungkook doesn't know is that you have dozens of warm up sketches of him. Doesn’t know you sneak pictures here and there when you can, hiding them in a hidden album on your phone entitled ‘hmwk screenshots.’ And he definitely doesn’t know that when he’s sitting at the cafe, nose deep in assignments, you doodle his features or his outfit in real time.

A nose here, a jacket there. A muscular forearm covered in tattoos also tends to find its way onto your page every so often.

He’s got a good physique. And the ridges make for excellent anatomy practice. So does the intricate line work of tattoos, and fabric rippling. Especially in drastic lighting. Consistency is key in maintaining and improving your work and it’s not like any of these sketches will ever see the light of day anyways.

They’re just, well…practice.

A sigh escapes you, and you refocus on finishing your microecon work. You still have two more assignments to get done before Saturday at eleven.

“And why are you working with some random girl when I’m available, again?” Adaline asks. She’s currently sitting on Jungkook's couch in your spot. He’s setting up tomorrow's materials against the big white wall by the floor length windows that showcase his balcony.

It’s why he chose to live here instead of in the dorms or on campus. His place isn’t enormous, like most people would think, it has enough room for everything a regular student needs: bedroom, kitchen, workspace, living room, bathroom, even a guest room. But the one thing he keeps different is the big white wall where a dining room would normally be.

Jungkook’s place has high ceilings, 10 feet tall, which is higher than the average but not excessive. And the wall that connects his kitchen to the balcony is a perfect mock studio. He can even keep all his equipment there; lights, gels, backgrounds, tubs full of props, camera cases, lenses, and more all stored in neat shelving against another wall.

“Because students volunteered for extra credit, and she’s who was assigned to me,” a small lie, one he was sure that Adaline wouldn’t dig into too deeply.

“Why didn’t you tell me I could volunteer?”

“Because you didn’t need the extra credit?”

She pouts, and goes back to her phone.

Adaline also doesn’t know it’s you he’s photographing and that is one hundred percent intentionally planned by him.

He could sense something between you two after you made that one comment after fall break. He notices now how you stiffen slightly every time he mentions Adaline, and the one time he mentioned you in passing to test the waters, Adaline changed the conversion topic almost immediately. A look of annoyance, or maybe even insecurity in her eyes.

So he’s been lucky that Adaline has never wanted to see any of his schoolwork prior to or after the singular shoot he did with her.

Lucky she hasn’t seen your face fill up his screen constantly.

And extremely lucky that she doesn’t know about the hidden folder buried deep in his desktop labeled ‘eqpmt rcpts’ filled with dozens of candid shots of you.

To be fair, you don’t know about them either. They’re random, shots taken every now and then where he thought you looked happy, focused, or just existing. True candids of the most candid person he knew.

It started that day with his first assignment from Professor Hirmer. He’d taken those quick pictures of you painting, and then simply never stopped.

He has pictures of you in the courtyard, walking and talking to Yuri, you smiling. He has some he took on his phone when you’re over for movie night, invested in the film or talking to him. And a bunch of you painting at the greenhouse. It’s hard to take secret candids when he’s right beside you, but he manages seeing as you haven't caught him yet.

He even has a few of you and Nel, love clearly written on your face in every single one of them.

Whenever he spots you before you spot him, and he has his camera on him, he takes a couple.

They’ve amassed into a healthy sum, but he thinks of it as a harmless habit as no one will ever know. And it’s not like he’s following you around to take them or using them for anything nefarious.

He just likes taking your picture. Capturing your spirit, your candor.

Your realness.

You are wholly yourself, always, no holding back, all of the time.

And to him, it feels like coming up for a breath of fresh air.

“Hey!” you say as you let yourself into Jungkook’s apartment. You’d knocked but no one answered and it was currently 10:56am on Saturday, so you knew he was here. Plus, his door was unlocked.

“Jungkook?” you call.

No answer.

You take your shoes off after closing the door and locking it. He should really keep his door locked.

Very quickly become best friends with the couch, you toss your backpack of warm clothes on the floor while you wait for him to make an appearance.

There’s shoot equipment everywhere; lights in the corner, some with soft boxes on them, gels laid out on the coffee table, and what you’ve come to learn is a lens case sits on the couch beside you in Jungkook's usual spot.

Jungkook has also somehow managed to find some small trees in blue ceramic pots and what you’re pretty sure is a smoke machine.

But the most peculiar thing is what looks to be a kiddie pool up against the wall with a folded tarp at its base.

Well that's…interesting…

You hear a door open somewhere in the apartment and running water.

“Jungkook? That you?”

“Hey! Yep. Just give me a sec, I’m almost done.”

The water sounds cease and Jungkook makes his grand entrance as he turns the corner holding a large watering can. Your eyebrow raises.

“For the trees?” you ask.

“What?”

You point to the watering can currently making his veins pop.

He laughs, “Oh! No. This is for later. You’ll see,” and walks to the other side of the room by the pool.

“Aren’t we mysterious today,” you say, following him with your eyes. He’s in ripped black jeans that accentuate the muscle definition of his thighs, and a matching baggy shirt. When his back is turned you snap a quick picture. The fabric folds on his baggy shirts are some of your favourite mindless things to cool down sketch.

“Nah, just focused. We have a lot to get through today.” He sets down the watering can and you can see the moment the switch flips from friend to photographer. “The guest room is ready for you. There’s a clothing rack inside with each look labeled. There’s also makeup and face paint, if you could bring out the make up after you're done changing, that would be great. We’re gonna start with ‘Bright and Bold’, okay?”

You usually use the spare room as a change room when you have to switch clothes for a shoot. But they were always from your own closet. He’d tell you the concept he was going for and you’d bring a few options to choose from.

Makeup you were used to, though. Jungkook loves abusing your artistic abilities for his shoots in the way you decorate your face or body, saying they make his works a level up from the rest of his classmates.

They also usually make for some of the coolest pictures you have of yourself.

This is the first time he’s ever bought clothing, though.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, this being his final assignment for an important class, and him being as serious as he is about his work and the final product. But you can't help it, you’re excited to see everything he’s chosen for the shoot.

For you.

For the shoot.

“Yep, sounds good. Be out in a few,” you reply. He nods in acknowledgement before moving to set something up and you don’t stick around to find out, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door lined hall.

The guest room is modest and clean. White sheets and gray comforter with, surprisingly, two throw pillows to spruce it up. The walls are white too, but you’re pretty sure that’s because Jungkook’s not allowed to paint the apartment per his landlord's wishes—a thought that still makes you laugh.

He could buy any place he wanted, but chose to rent. ‘To get the real university experience,’ he explained when you asked him the first time you went over.

Black furniture accents the room. A comfortable looking leather chair sits in the corner by a glass door that leads to the balcony. It has a small table beside it. There’s a dresser with a mirror in the other corner and of course, in the center of the room, is the bed. It’s a nice room. However, the newest edition is what’s keeping your eye.

Four shirts hang from the rack at the foot of the bed. The first is vibrant and colourful, the second a light neutral short sleeved V neck, third is strapless and skin coloured, and the last is made from thin black fabric you assume will be skin tight by the looks of it.

As promised, they’re all labeled with a sticker.

You throw your bag on the bed and grab the colourful one first. Its sticker says ‘bright and bold,’ and you put it on after removing the shirt you came in, then zip it up. The material feels heavy, durable and expensive. You check the tag on the inside seam and see it’s from Ilkaya, one of the biggest and most expensive fashion designers on this side of the realm.

Your eyes bug out of your head, and you try not to breathe too hard for fear of ruining it. Your routine of thrifting all your clothes makes you pretty damn sure you can’t even imagine how much this cost.

It feels good though, comfortable, not itchy. Really freaking expensive.

You look at yourself in the mirror, and you have to admit you look amazing. It fits perfectly in all the right places, compliments your skin tone, and even brings out your eyes. Begrudgingly, you admit to yourself that maybe there’s some sense in what the price tag could be. But it would still be a ridiculous sum for a jacket.

With one last look in the mirror, you grab the palettes, brushes and other tools off the dresser, and leave your designated dressing room for the day in favour of returning to the living room.

Jungkook’s got music going from your shared playlist. Insisting on making one after your second shoot together, when he decided you both agreed to the arrangement becoming a regular thing. It’s a good mix of both of your musical tastes, even though you guys figured out quickly that you liked pretty similar stuff anyway.

“What do you think? Does it work?” You ask as you turn the corner.

Jungkook fiddles with this camera before looking and pausing for a moment to take you in. You hope you look okay, but the weird look he has on his face makes you backtrack a bit.

“Is this not the one you wanted? It had the label on it. But I can go back and double che- ”

“You look amazing,” is all he says, and your worry slides off you instantly. He smiles wide, the one you’ve come to recognize as genuine.

“Thanks. But the colour’s doing most of the work for me,” you say, smiling back shyly.

He has a white background set up, and two differently coloured gel’d lights sit on opposite one another, a third, smaller floor light faces the background. A backlight, he’d call it.

Bright and Bold indeed, though there is the matter of-

“What do you want me to do for my make up?”

“Actually,” he sets down his camera gently on a table, “Is it okay if I do it? I want it to be a little more on the amateur side and I don’t think your years of refined talent would let you get the exact look I want.”

That’s new. But you're here to stand and look however he wants you too, so you allow him with a nod.

“Sure, where do you want me to sit?”

“Here’s fine,” he says as he pulls a stool that was off to one side close to one of the windows. “As long as you don’t mind holding the make up. I don’t have a table to set them down on. Should’ve thought of that, sorry.”

You can tell he’s mentally scolding himself for forgetting something.

“No no, it’s fine,” you say, taking your seat, “I don’t mind, really.”

Placing the balls of your feet on the bar that holds the chair legs together, you make your lap even enough to set the palettes out, and use a hand to hold all the brushes.

Jungkook laughs, noticing your feet as you sit, “Cute socks.”

They’re light blue with a fox face on them, and little ears stick up from the elastic around the ankle.

“Thanks,” you laugh too, they’re your favourite pair. “I call them my fox socks. They’re lucky.”

“Let’s hope so. Wish me luck fox socks,” he calls to your toes, and you wiggle them in response.

He picks a brush and chooses a colour. “Close your eyes and let me know if I’m pressing too hard. If it isn’t obvious, I’ve never done this before.”

You close your eyes and whisper, “Will do.”

It's a uniquely intimate experience having your makeup done. Willingly letting someone get up close and personal with you, allowing them to see every potential scar, blemish and pore in the name of beauty and for the sake of creativity.

In this case, it’s also a little questionable considering where you feel the brush putting down colour: cheeks, lids, temple, nose. However, you’re simply a pawn in a well thought out plan, so you sit and wait for him to finish.

“Annnd done,” he says, making a final swipe with the brush on your cheek. “You look great! I didn’t hurt you, right?” he asks, showing you the makeup in a palettes mirror. Your face looks like it’s been attacked by a rainbow in the best way. You smile, taking the mirror from him and looking at all the little details.

For a first timer, Jungkook did a really good job.

“Nope, I’m good. How do you want me?”

Jungkook leads you to the backdrop, placing you in front.

“One second,” he says, grabbing a remote and clicking a button to lower the black out curtains on the windows, and then another that turns off the apartment lights. He also clicks on all the lights he’s set up and you’re quickly illuminated by a bright red and purple as well as the back light.

“I’m good to pose?” he asks.

“Yep.”

You love that he always asks first. It makes you feel safe and considered, consenting to every touch prior to its occurrence.

Jungkook instructs the first pose to have your hands on the sides of your face, making slight adjustments so that you don’t cover any of the makeup. And for the first time, his touches leave little sparks where they land.

You’re sure it’s just because of the lights or that the shirt is thick and makes you warm.

Or maybe you’re just nervous and need to get the first photo jitters out of your system.

Soon enough, the camera’s pointing at you and you smile the brightest you can. He’s given you the prompt of ‘you’re so excited and happy you can’t hold it in,’ and you work with it the best you can, taking the first few with the pose he gave before being given full reign.

It’s a decent way into the first shoot when Jungkook says, “Hmm…we’re not quite there yet, I need a bit more,” and follows up with, “How about ‘you’ve just been commissioned by the Modern Art Museum to have the leading showcase for next year’.”

You smile the biggest you think you ever have at the thought. Because that’s the dream, that is the biggest goal you could achieve. An entire gallery of your work as the primary exhibition in the Western Shores Modern Art Museum? You couldn’t go any higher. It’s every artist's dream.

“There you go! That’s it!” The camera’s capturing quickly as you imagine what it would be like to have your own showcase at the WS-MAM. Incredible is the first word that comes to mind, your work in the biggest museum on the continent? You can’t even imagine, but you want to.

One day, you promise yourself. You’ll do it one day.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, breaking your daydream, “Let me switch out the gels for new colours and go again. These are great so far though, you're doing amazing.”

You hold your hand out for a high five and he smacks it. “Go team!” you say, and he laughs.

An hour and a half, a makeup fix and three lighting changes later, the first shoot finishes. You collapse on the couch and rub the muscles on your thighs.

Jungkook plops down beside you, nose deep in the pictures he’s just taken, double checking everythings good.

“This is a fantastic start, I hope we can keep it up all day and finish before tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you say, and you mean it. Shoots with him are always fun, but inevitably tiring. “I’m gonna to grab a water, want one?”

“Yes please,” he replies without looking up.

In the kitchen, you open the fridge to grab the two bottles and notice a box, stamped with a coffee mug that has a greenhouse inside of it, on top. The greenhouse cafe’s logo.

“Can I ask what’s inside the cafe box?” you ask as you sit back on the couch and pass him a bottle.

“Ah, caught red handed,” he says, setting his camera on the table and taking a swig. “I may have asked Vivan earlier this week to make sure there was an overstock of tarts so I could grab them for you as a thank you for today.”

...Oh

That’s so sweet. He’s never gotten you a thank you gift before, especially not in the form of the most delicious pastry to ever exist. Maybe you should get him something for all the times he’s helped you with homework? A solstice gift maybe?

There’s heat forming in your chest and you really hope it’s not the beginning stages of heartburn. Maybe Jungkook has antacids.

“You didn’t have to do that, I’m happy to help.”

“So you don’t want them then?” his shit eating grin making a glorious comeback because he knows what your answer’s going to be.

“No! I want them. I most definitely want them.”

He chuckles and puts his water down.

“Okay Donatello, glad you accept. Let's move on to the next set up. There’s makeup remover and cotton pads in the room, and some moisturizer too if you need it.”

The next shoot is called ‘Regality,’ and it has you in the strapless shirt. You find out it’s quite a low cut when you put it on. There’s enough to cover you, but there’s definitely a lot of your chest showing. However, under the shirt on the hanger is a scarf to cover yourself with, which you think is very considerate.

“Makeup?” you ask as you come out again, scarf covering you.

“Neutral, but strong. Kind of like how my mother does,” the background is still white, but you have a hunch that it will remain white in this picture, unlike the last one. “This one is going to be black and white, so try to emphasize your natural beauty.”

You ignore that he essentially just said you're beautiful, surely he’s just being kind and professional. Making sure his model feels good about herself.

Right?

Right.

You put on a coat of mascara and go light on the shadow so it won't be too dramatic on film. You also use a shade of lipstick that adds just a tint to your lips and a blush that makes your eyes pop.

Jungkook has you sit on the stool from earlier and faces your body three quarters of the way towards the camera, but keeps your head turned in profile.

“Oh! Almost forgot, one second,” Jungkook jogs to his room, coming back with a palm sized velvet box. “I had my mother send these over for this shoot. She has better taste than me, so I let her pick them out.”

Your stomach plummets to the floor when he opens the box.

Inside are two dangling diamond earrings, and quite possibly the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

And now you’re terrified.

“Jungkook, I can't wear those. They look like they’re worth more than my house, my car and my tuition combined.”

He takes one out and places it in your hand for you to put in, it’s the length of your index finger. And all you can think about is the potential houses you’re holding as you look at it.

It’s a semi-rectangular earring, encrusted with four columns of diamonds that cascade down, each column longer than the previous. Like a sparkling waterfall you can attach to your ear.

“Don’t worry about it, mum said she never wears them anyway because they’re part of a set that the necklace was lost to years ago. Please,” his face is nothing but reassurance and small smiles, “You’re giving them a chance to live again.”

You couldn't say no to those eyes even if you wanted to.

So you reply, almost breathless and still against your better judgment, “Okay.”

Placing them in one after the other, they have a significant, understandable weight to them. You take a couple deep breaths so you don't freak out, and then you return to your previously designated pose, profile set, body facing the camera.

“Can I adjust?” Jungkook asks, after taking a step back and getting a wider view.

You nod gently, still terrified of the earrings.

He makes sure the earring is visible and untangled first, before a finger gently comes beneath your chin, and lifts it a bit higher.

The feeling they leave behind is all you can think about as you stare at your place on the wall, Jungkook snapping away. Not even the soft light illuminating your profile is enough to make you blink.

This shoot goes by quickly, and you’re relieved to get the earrings back safely inside their box.

“It’s like 2:45, wanna break for a late lunch?” Jungkook asks.

“Please, I’m starved,” you say, returning from the guest room after tossing on the sweater you brought. “What's on the menu?”

“Well, we have two options,” he says, looking very faux serious, “1. We order out from wherever you want and awkwardly wait for it to arrive because the next shoot is not one we can’t prep for, then eat, then shoot. Or 2. I make use of the ingredients I bought to make Bulgogi Kimchi Fried Rice and you get lunch and a show.”

You're shocked.

Jungkook…cooks? Oh this you absolutely must see.

“Hmm….” you say, pretending to really mull it over in the same ‘serious’ tone, “I’m thinking I’ll have to go with option two, Chef. But I’ll lend a hand where I can, no use in standing around doing nothing.”

“Every chef needs a sous.”

With both of you on task, lunch is getting made quickly. Jungkook has all the ingredients to make ‘my buddy’s famous family recipe,’ a man who you assume is a chef back at the palace. The island countertop is currently covered in them; onion, kimchi, marinated bulgogi, gochujang, cooked rice, eggs and more.

You’re surprised at how skilled Jungkook is in the kitchen. He’s cutting the ingredients like he’s been doing it his whole life and working the pan over the stove like the proper technique has been drilled into him since birth.

Thirty minutes pass, and after both of you shed a tear at the cut onions and evenly split the remaining tasks, you’re sitting on the couch about to take your first bite. It smells delicious. Your mouth is watering and you can’t wait to dig in, stomach painfully empty by this point.

Finally taking that first bite, you nearly die of euphoria.

“Ouhmahgaud,” you say, mouth half full. Jungkooks on the other side of the couch, trying not to cough out his own food from laughing at your reaction. His eyes are nearly shut with how wide he’s smiling.

“Good?” he asks after swallowing his food first, like a civilized person.

You’re vigorously nodding as you swallow your own helping in hopes you’re understood.

“You’re giving me this recipe. I need it. I don’t think I will survive if this is the only time I ever get to eat it.” Your bowl is almost half gone already. Thank god there’s leftovers, you will be having more.

Plus, you want to make it for your mom when you go home, she’ll love it.

“I’ll text it to you later, don’t worry.”

You’re very sure the look on your face conveys the gratitude you feel and the rest of the meal passes in a very comfortable and satisfied silence.

Twenty-ish minutes later, after letting your seconds settle for a couple minutes, Jungkook gets back to business.

“Next look is the most adventurous, it uses the facepaint. Are you okay with contacts?”

“I think so, never tried them before though. Just give me a few before we start so I don’t explode when I stand up.”

“All good,” he says, before quirking a lip and adding, “I really don’t feel like explaining why there’s kimchi and bits of you all over my walls to either of our parents, so take all the time you need.”

You laugh, firstly at the visual, then at the idea of Jungkook meeting your mother. That would be something you needed on record, paper and film.

After a minute, you get up, the guest room making your acquaintance once more.

“This one is called Enigmatic,” Jungkook calls.

“Got it!”

You take longer than normal to change, maybe eating before putting on the skin tight shirt wasn’t a great idea. But at least it was stretchy.

It has long sleeves, a high neck, and is a very dark midnight black. There’s a matching black scarf for this one too, and a safety pin attached to the corner.

“Okay, what's the plan for this one? I hear facepaint is involved,” you say, back for round three, scarf in hand.

The background of the set is black now, a close match to your shirt. Jungkook is by the smoke machine, currently set up on the stool and plugged into a nearby outlet.

You hold up the scarf, questioningly.

“That’s to go over your head after the paint, but let’s see if you can do contacts first, they’re in the washroom. Need help?”

“No, I'm good.”

You don’t succeed at first, but after a couple attempts you look in the mirror and see purple eyes staring back at you. You love them.

“I look like a badass,” you say, returning. The smoke machine’s been turned on and it’s created a completely different atmosphere. At your reemergence, Jungkook shuts it off and comes close to give you a look. You freeze a little at the eye contact, his browns meeting your currently violets for a prolonged moment.

“They look better than I’d hoped, this is going to be great.”

He reaches under the gels on the table for a piece of paper. It’s a makeup model face with the look he wants drawn on. “Are you able to do something like this?”

The diagram shows the cheeks, bottom half of the nose and down all the way to the neck as black, and the eyes and up as white, bleeding down into the black like smoke. You’re going to need eyeshadow for that part. If you did that with the face paint it would just become a gray mess.

“Yep, but it’s going to take some time to get it right.”

“That’s okay, I’ll use it to get the smoke machine properly set up.”

You use one of the palette mirrors and start with the white, covering the top of your face and making a good base layer for the eyeshadow. Then fill the bottom of your face and neck with the black. Carefully, so as to not make gray, you use a large brush to cover both sides with their respective eyeshadow shades, before blending them together like the reference. Your skin starts to feel like it’s on fire by the time you're satisfied and you check your phone for the time when you finally finish.

4:37pm.

Not bad. You put the scarf over your head and cover your ears with it, using the safety pin to hold it in place.

“Done.”

Jungkook takes one look at you and lights up.

“Have I ever mentioned how talented you are, and that you make my schoolwork so much more fun? Because I feel like I should again even if I already have.” Your cheeks heat, glad he’s excited you’re able to help. “How did you manage to make it look even better?”

“I do vaguely remember mentioning something about a deal with a semi-suspicious genie,” you joke. And both of you break out in giggle fits after a second, recalling the conversation from forever ago.

Running through the same steps of lighting, posing, and adjustments, Jungkook then flips on the smoke machine and lets it fill the room heavily before starting to take pictures.

You’re sitting on a small box this time, so that you’re slightly lower than the camera. Jungkook tells you to keep your hands at your sides and look up, just above the rim of the camera lens. It creates a very interesting look, and you're excited to see the results.

He has you do a couple more poses before allowing you to do your own thing once more, trying to think of what would look mysterious and enigmatic.

You try to let the music inspire you. This is a look you’ve never done before, so you’re finding it a bit difficult to get into it despite Jungkook's helpful prompts and suggestions. But you flow a bit better with it as time goes on and you become more comfortable.

An idea pops up out of nowhere and you have him do a close up from the middle of your chin to the middle of your forehead. You stare straight into the lens to really showcase the purple contacts and makeup.

“This’s the one for sure,” he says, taking a few more. “Great idea, why didn’t I think of a close up in the first place?” You know he's talking to himself at this point.

It’s close to 6:15pm when Jungkook decides he has enough pictures for this look. You don’t mind the longer shoot seeing as you set aside the day for this, and you can’t wait to see how these ones turn out in particular.

You’re halfway through getting the face paint off, a mountain of gray stained cotton pads beside you, when Jungkook turns the music down.

“Let’s do a light, early dinner and then shoot the last one?” he asks. “I kept this one at the end because it’s going to create the most mess and it’ll be nice to have dinner out of the way for when I have to clean up.”

“More mess than this?” you point to the cotton pad mountain.

“Much more.”

“Light, early dinner it is,” you confirm, not wanting to have to wait till late to eat. “But can we order out so I have time to get the rest of this off?”

“Sure, what’ll it be?”

Clean faced, moisturized and ramyeon filled, you and Jungkook are preparing for the last shoot. Or well, lightly arguing.

“Water?”

“Mhm.”

“On me?”

“Yep.”

“From that thing,” you point to the contraption he calls a c-stand that will be holding the very full, very large watering can over your head for an extended amount of time, “And into there?” you point again to the kitty pool on top of the tarp that’s underneath the watering can c-stand.

“That is the plan,” he looks amused at your slight distress.

“Are you nuts? What if it falls on me? How do I know it won’t unhinge and I’ll have a nicely cracked open skull to explain to my mother on Solstice break?”

“It won’t fall and you know it won't because you trust me and trust I wouldn’t put you in unnecessary danger. But if it does, tell your mom I say hi and sorry.”

You scoff at him, unbelievable. “So you admit there’s a bit of danger!”

Jungkook sighs, and looks to the ceiling. “Yes, YN. There is a touch of danger. But that’s only if, somehow, the c-stand I have triple safety checked, duct taped twice, and quadruple secured with four fifteen pound sandbags, decides that you deserve a watering can to the head.”

You side eye his tone. This wasn’t an unrealistic worry. But you do trust him. And trust he would never intentionally put you in any danger.

The trees are set up near the backdrop that looks like a row of brick houses. The shot is supposed to be ‘The Calm after Before the Storm,’ where you look relieved and happy in an ‘outside’ setting while ‘rain’ falls over you, also in black and white.

“Fine, but if I hear one peep from that thing,” c-stand staring down the tip of your finger once more, “I’m tuck and rolling and taking you out while I do it.”

“Very fair!” he says relieved, and goes to set up the stand with the watering can.

You’d changed into the neutral V neck after dinner, and he’s asked for no makeup. So all you have to do now is stand and pose while trying not to die from foreign objects falling from the sky while you get wet.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

It is incredibly difficult, and you’re glad he made this one last because you’re at best; slightly miserable. Only the promise of a hot shower, hot chocolate with whip cream and marshmallows and your pick of whatever you watch afterward is keeping you going.

You started this one just shy of 8pm after waiting 45 minutes for the food. And it’s nearing 9:30 now. Jungkook has had to refill the watering can four times, dump the kiddie pool twice, and you swear if you don’t finish within the next twenty minutes, you’re going to collapse from shivering.

To be fair, he does fill the watering can with warm water, but it only stays warm for so long before freezing water is pouring on you for the millionth time tonight.

“I have one last idea, and by the way, I’m never doing this concept again so don’t worry about that, but also… don’t shut down the idea immediately okay?” Jungkook says.

The watering can is almost empty again and you’re relieved that your time is almost up. That in itself should make for a good picture. He snaps it.

But his tone makes you a little wary, “Okay… what is it?”

“Pretend I’m Nel and you’re seeing me for the first time in six months, like you do at the end of April.”

Well, you didn’t have that down on your photo shoot prompt bingo card.

Are you okay with the idea? You aren’t sure, but aren’t not sure either.

“I mean, I’ll try. Maybe you could give vocal cues to try and help? But don’t make it weird.”

“I won’t, promise,” Jungkook pauses for a second before adding, “Does he call you baby?”

You nod, and you distantly hear and ‘okay’ as you slowly allow yourself to get into that headspace.

You start, and the camera starts going.

You’re in the airport, waiting for Nel, ‘smoosh’ paper in hand. The gate opens, and through all the other passengers you see him, see that he’s in one piece, see that he’s safe.

Your face illuminates with relief at that so much so that you don’t even notice the water that starts running down your face.

You hear a ‘hi baby’ and in your head, it’s coming from Nel’s mouth as he nears you. You smile impossibly wider at the thought of seeing him, feeling him. Having him here with you.

You look happy to see me, ‘Nel’ says.

“I am,” you reply.

There’s repetitive clicking in the distance, but you ignore it. It’s probably just a flight attendant's heels on the floor.

“I missed you.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Nel speaks again.

I missed you too, baby.

You’re shivering hard now, lost in thought, unaware of reality.

YN, Nel calls.

“Yes, love?”

“YN.”

“Babe, what is it?”

“YN, hey,” you're being shaken gently.

“Hmm? What?” you slowly arrive back to the present. Strong hands grip your shoulders. They feel nice. Solid. Deliciously warm.

A very concerned looking Jungkook comes into focus, camera dangling around his neck and reaching for you.

Oh.

He’s the one holding your shoulders, trying to get you to come back to reality.

“There she is, welcome back,” he lets go and grabs a blanket from somewhere and wraps it around you. “We got the shot, go take a shower and warm up okay?”

“Okay,” you say, still a little dazed, but present enough to function.

You step out of the pool, holding on to the hand Jungkook offers to balance—Warm. Solid. Strong—and head straight for the bathroom, making a pit stop in the guest room to grab your bag with fresh clothes.

The hot water cements your place back in reality, letting it warm you up and cleanse you of the day.

You have no idea what just happened with that whole Nel thing, but it was a new feeling and a new headspace and you really aren’t in the mood to analyze or acknowledge, so it’s shoved onto a top shelf in the back of your mind for a later date.

Once you're able to return to the directory of your mind, you don’t know how long you’ve been in the shower. But you know you’re clean, no longer cold, and in the mood for hot chocolate, so you step out and dry yourself with the towels Jungkook laid out for you on the toilet seat.

They’re soft. So soft in fact you consider only for a second shoving one in your now less full bag to take home with you. However, you do rather enjoy your friendship with the prince, so you think better of it upon second thought.

Dressing in your sweats, you exit, tossing the towels in the hamper and your bag of the clothes you arrived in back into the spare room.

“Better?” Jungkook asks as you sit down in your spot on the couch for the last time tonight, wrapping up in the blanket he left for you. He’s in the kitchen but heard you coming.

“Much, thanks,” you sniff, “Is that hot chocolate I smell?”

Jungkook returns from the kitchen, two mugs in hand. “With extra whip cream and marshmallows, as ordered.”

You carefully take it from him, giving your thanks and happily slurping away the second it’s in your grasp.

“Alright Caravaggio, what are we watching?” he asks, sitting down on his side, sipping away on his own.

Sometime between you leaving for the shower and coming back out Jungkook changed into his own comfy attire, and tidied up the studio space as the pool and tarp are nowhere to be seen.

“I’ve thought really hard about this, all of however long I was in the shower,” Jungkook mutters something about 35 minutes; you ignore him, “And have settled on ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

He whines just a little when he says, “But it’s November.”

“So?”

“So, Solstice isn’t until the third week of December,” he’s saying this like his point is the most obvious thing in the world.

It’s not.

“Your point?”

“That it’s November, and you want to watch a Solstice movie.”

You’re mockingly outraged.

“Who made you town grinch? I didn’t realize we had a holiday hater in our midst.”

You loved the holidays, all the big ones, and the small ones, but Solstice was special.

“I’m not a grinch, I’m just not there yet, mentally.”

“Then get ready to dive in head first, because you said I could pick the movie for risking my life for you and I pick ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

Jungkook doesn’t argue further, but he does roll his eyes as he puts on your movie with a small smile hidden behind his drink.

It’s sometime during the first act, you’re lying back against your corner of the couch, feet up and under the blanket when you ask, “What are your solstice break plans?”

Jungkook takes a moment to part from the TV, very invested for someone who was so against it half an hour ago. “I have a lot of ‘princely duties’ to do for Solstice, like standing and looking thoughtful while my dad gives his annual Solstice speech,” you snort. “Then there’s the palace dinner, the parade through the capital, and the live televised event,” he says in a tv announcer's voice, “Where my family and I light the Solstice Star. And then there’s the new year and that in itself has another long list of things I have to do. Besides things like that though? Not much, and then it’s back here.”

Right.

You often forget who he is.

That behind those kind eyes, and small smiles, behind the greenhouse study dates, and movie nights, and photoshoots, Jungkook has an enormous responsibility constantly looming over his head, counting down the days until he finishes his schooling. One that’s just waiting to drop onto his shoulders forever.

You often forget that Jungkook is the Prince, first in line to the biggest throne in the realm. That you spend your time with not only Jeon Jungkook, friend and photography student, but also, His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook, Heir Apparent and Future King of The Western Shores.

He just makes it so damn easy to forget.

You only asked because you thought maybe he had plans with friends or family, completely forgetting about all of the things the royal family does during the holiday season to celebrate with the nation, their people, and now you feel like an ass for even bringing it up.

But there’s something in his answer, or lack thereof, that snags your attention.

“What about celebrating with your family and friends in private?”

“No time,” Jungkook’s stare goes distant as he brings his knees up and puts his arms around them, resting his chin. “Friends are always busy with palace preparations and dad’s not really the sentimental type. We celebrated when I was younger; big family breakfast, presents, tree decorating, whole thing. But after I turned about 13 or so, it started dwindling pretty quickly. Now it’s just me and my mom exchanging a gift with each other at midnight under the palace tree.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard something so heartbreaking yet beautiful in your life.

“Your mum sounds wonderful, I’m really happy you two get that time together.”

He looks at you, and you can tell by the look in his eyes he loves that time with her more than anything else.

Solstice is supposed to be the time you spend with your family, blood or chosen. The time where you all gather to cook and bake, and exchange thoughtful gifts with the ones you love. The time where you truly cherish one another and count yourself lucky for all that you have.

Solstice is your favourite time of the year.

To not spend it like that just seems…wrong. Horribly, painfully, awfully wrong.

“What about you?” he asks.

You don’t want to make him feel bad, so you tone down your answer, taking away the meat and giving the bones.

“My mum and I cut down our own tree and decorate it with the ornaments we’ve collected over the years,” you have them from every place you’ve ever visited, and your mum kept all the ones you ever made as a kid. You even get a new one every solstice to take a picture for and label with the year.

“Then we bake solstice cookies until our hands cramp and survive off only them until solstice dinner; a turkey, honey glazed carrots, mashed potatoes with gravy, essentially if it waters your mouth, it’s there,” he chuckles at that. “We do gifts for each other too, opening them on solstice morning before making hot drinks and reading in the breakfast nook until the sun sets or till we get hungry, whichever comes first.”

Jungkook's eyes glow, radiating warmth, a lazy smile on his face as he listens to you.

“That sounds really nice, YN.”

“It is,” you reply, looking him in those radiant eyes as you do. He looks… happy. Happy for you, that you get to have something like this that’s so special. It breaks your heart a little…maybe you can help.

“You wanna make some solstice cookies with me before break?”

His look of happy shifts to one of slight panic.

“What?” you question, and comically ask, “Have you never made solstice cookies before?”

He hesitates before answering a very quiet, “Uh…N-no.”

Your shock must be incredibly evident in the way he almost flinches at your reaction.

So you try your best to keep your voice level when you ask, “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no. I’ve never made solstice cookies.”

That’s it. You can’t hold back any more, you’ve never heard anything so blasphemous in all your life.

“You’ve never what? How is that even possible?”

He shrinks into himself a little more.

“The palace pastry chef always makes them because that’s kind of his job,” you stare at him in disbelief. “Is this really that big a deal?”

You swear there’s cog’s and smoke flying out of your ears. Solstice cookies are a religion in your household. You know dozens of recipes by heart, always finding a new one each year to try and up your game. You cannot imagine a solstice without making them. Wait no, actually you can, but it would be because you’re dead.

You held back in your answer earlier, for his sake, but you and your mom’s hands cramp up because you make enough cookies to give a box to everyone in the neighborhood. It’s one of your favourite traditions, and your neighbours even look forward to it every year, going so far as sending you both recipes to try out.

“Big dea—you’ve never fucking mad—not even when you were little? No one brought you to the kitchen and let you help? Aren't all your friends back home the pastry chefs' kids or something?” You don’t mean to sound harsh, but your tone is a little more passionate than you were intending.

But Jungkook knows you, knows you occasionally get that passionate about things, and takes your outburst in stride.

“Yeah, one of them is, but we don't sit around the oven and make cookies all break long. And his dad is always too busy to teach us even if we wanted to.”

You decide something. Right then and there.

“This year you are.”

“What?”

“Mark your last Saturday off because I'm going to show up here, ingredients-a-plenty and teach you how to make solstice cookies. I have a million recipes up here,” you tap your head with a finger, “But I'll choose the easiest ones. And I’ll come over early so we can spend the day making all of them. I can’t in good conscience leave for the break knowing you’ve never made them.”

He sighs. “Do I have any say in the matter?”

“Absolutely not.”

Jungkook stares at you and you can’t figure out what he’s thinking. You’re worried he’s going to say no anyway. To say you’re crazy and that they’re just cookies and that he has more important things he has to do on his Saturday before leaving for home.

But he doesn’t. And you should’ve known he wouldn’t, not after all the time you’ve spent together.

You know better. Know him better.

“Alright Picasso. Sounds like a plan. I’m looking forward to it,” he decides, and goes back to watching the movie.

It’s the first time he’s ever repeated a nickname.

“Wait! The wind guy wants to replace who?!” Jungkook shouts.

You laugh at his confusion, and rewind the movie.

Jungkook wakes up sore.

His back is killing him, which makes sense since he’s half lying on the couch, half on the ground.

The TV’s silently playing some slideshow of movie recommendations based on recent watches.

He checks his phone, reaching for it on the coffee tale.

14% battery.

4:07am.

Shit, he fell asleep.

After the solstice movie he wanted to watch its predecessor. You had no qualms and so on it went, but he doesn’t remember much after the brothers started fighting.

Hearing soft, even breathing next to him he turns to see you, hunched over in your spot asleep, no doubt in the process of ruining your own back.

He should go to bed.

You should go to bed.

But you’ve never stayed the night.

What should he do? Should he wake you?

But you look so peaceful. And it’s nearing exams. You barely sleep when it’s exams season.

Instead, Jungkook goes to check the guest room, but it’s a mess with yesterday's comings and goings. Make-up and clothes and hangers strewn everywhere.

Quietly, making a decision he hopes you won’t kill him for in the morning, he pads back to your sleeping form.

It’s for your back, he tells himself. No other reason.

Deja vu sets in as he scoops you up from the couch, blanket and all. Just like last time, you gain enough consciousness to know to wrap your arms around his neck, but not enough to wake up. Your head rests on his shoulder and he selfishly savours the feeling as he walks down the short hallway to his room.

Jungkook sets you down gently on one side of the bed, and your arms release, slumber undisturbed as he tucks you in.

He goes back to the living room to retrieve your phones. Yours is still at 56%, and he places it on the table beside you when he returns.

Climbing into his side of the bed, he’s careful not to touch you.

Though he wants to.

Desperately.

His sleep deprived brain is too slow to block out the thoughts that start to race. Thoughts of how he wants to turn around and pull you into his chest, slide an arm around your waist, and kiss you goodnight. How he wants to wake up in the same position, you still in his arms.

But he’s also awake enough to know that will never happen. That you’re with Nel, and happy with him. That he’s drawn that nice, big line.

He’s awake enough to know you being in his bed is a fluke, unintentional.

A one time thing.

Plugging his phone into its charger, he sets it down on his own bedside table and pulls the covers up, falling back asleep.

His back facing you.

An exhale wakes you.

Warm and cozy, you take a deep breath and roll to your left side, stretching on the way over. The scents of clean linen and something familiar find you. It’s comforting, that smell, but you can’t place it.

Another exhale, but this time you feel it as well as hear it.

You open your eyes to see a sleeping Jungkook face not a foot from your own and you jolt in shock, falling off the bed in the process.

You look up from your new seat on the floor, ignoring the pain in your side from landing, and peer over the covers to check on Jungkook, who, miraculously, hasn’t woken up from your tumble.

Relieved, your mind focuses on more pressing questions like ‘how did you get here?’ And ‘why were you in his bed?’

The last thing you remember was being halfway through the prequel to A Miser Brothers Solstice on the couch, watching Jungkook more than the movie because of how invested he’d become in the story.

But you aren’t on the couch now. You were in his bed.

The bed of the Prince of the Western Shores.

The Prince who has a girlfriend, and you, who has a very long term, very serious boyfriend.

You hear a vibration, and following the sound, you find your phone on the bedside table.

You quickly grab it quickly and go to the living room as quietly as you can manage.

There’s a large number of unread texts.

SlurryYuri [11:08pm]: hey, just checking in. You didn’t get home when you said you’d try for SlurryYuri [11:31pm]: Helloooooooo? YN? You there? SlurryYuri [12:14am]: it’s getting late YN, when are you coming home? Are you on your way?

Missed Calls: (3)

SlurryYuri [2:43am]: it’s been hours, so you better be dead or have crashed in the school somewhere. Either way I’m kicking your ass when you get home

Missed Calls: (2)

(Recent)

SlurryYuri [9:36am]: you’re still not home?? YN seriously, where are you SlurryYuri [10:23am]: If you don’t message me back in an hour I’m calling the police and filing a missing persons

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You crashed hard, the shoot must have taken more out of you than you thought, so you never texted Yuri you were going to crash in a sleep pod at school like you’d planned too.

You make quick work of messaging her back, glad she unintentionally gave you just the excuse you needed.

YN [10:25am]: ohmygod I’m soooooo sorry, it was the school one. I fell asleep in the school. I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll be home soon, promise. I’m just going to grab breakfast first. Again im sorry

SlurryYuri [10:27am]: thank the gods youre okay!! Don’t ever do that to me again YN! I don’t wanna be the one who has to break news to your mom!! She’s too nice. SlurryYuri [10:27am]: and take your time getting back if your rushing for me, I’m not at the dorm SlurryYuri [10:27am]: Tai showed up yesterday out of the blue and took me dancing. We’re out getting brunch right now, and he has plans for the rest of the day SlurryYuri [10:28am]: Im just glad you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere

YN [10:29am]: me too, and okay I will. Thanks for checking up on me and making sure im safe, youre my favourite

SlurryYuri [10:30am]: damn right I am, see you tn <3

YN [10:30am]: see you <3

You exhale deeply, that was fucking close.

Your stomach rumbles and it reminds you that you actually need to get breakfast.

What could you have? You could order in again, but that means a wait time and you are hungry now. You could raid Jungkook's pantry, or see if he has any fruit, but then you think that’s a gross invasion of privacy when it’s not movie night and you haven’t asked if it’s okay.

Wait.

The egg tarts!

You dash to the fridge, the marvellous sight of a greenhouse inside a coffee mug comes into view. Stuffing one down before you even get the box from the fridge, you exit the kitchen, sit down on the couch, setting the box on the coffee table. Once opened in front of you, you realize there is a healthy amount of tarts inside.

How many did Jungkook ask for?

Speaking of, a bed-headed, yawning Jungkook makes his morning debut, still in last night's clothes.

“Hey,” he says groggily, walking over and stealing a tart.

“Hey!” you say back, not nearly as friendly.

“Overnight tax, Picasso. Room isn’t free.” He chuckles at your faux outrage, popping half the tart in his mouth as he walks to the kitchen and grabs something from the fridge. Returning, you see it’s a morning protein shake.

Gross.

“So is that name the one you’re sticking to now?” you ask, picking up another tart. At this rate they won’t last until lunch.

“Yeah, that okay with you? It’s your name in my phone after all.”

“It is?” You didn’t know that.

“Yeah, has been since the start.”

You’re quickly learning that sleepy morning Jungkook is very different from morning post work-out Jungkook, friend Jungkook and photographer Jungkook. His voice is deeper, he’s a lot more relaxed, and maybe even harmlessly borderline flirty, like he’s not all there yet. Softer.

“Picasso’s just fine. A compliment really.”

“Oh? And what am I in your’s then? Hopefully something just as nice?”

You tell him like it is.

“PJK.”

“PJK?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yeah? It’s obscure enough to not be recognizable if someone were to see it, but enough for me to know who it is.”

“Nah, you need something better, PJK is boring.”

“It’s your initials.”

“And boring,” he’s really not letting up on this.

“Well...what would you save yourself as?”

He mulls it over for a minute before deflating. “Okay, fair point, but I seriously want a new one. Something that can rival Picasso.”

“Do you have any nicknames? Something not completely obvious?”

For a morning person, Jungkook sure is taking his time. Maybe he was only a morning person before 8am, and then if he got up anytime after that he became a normal person who despised mornings like everyone else.

“Uhh…Vivian calls me JK, but that’s essentially the same thing as PJK. My buddies back home sometimes call me Kook, but I don’t think that works either. My mum has one for me that I will not disclose to anyone so long as I am breathing. So I guess not.”

A lightbulb dings over your head. “What about your security? Don’t they have special code names for you when they detail you? Like bear or eagle?”

“Yeah, but it’s not nearly as badass as either of those.”

“Fess up,” you say. Now you have to know.

“Hare.”

“Hare?” Now it’s your turn to be incredulous. “Like a rabbit?”

“Yep.”

An idea pops into your head and an evil grin spreads across your face, one you know is already setting worry into Jungkook’s still awakening brain as you change his name.

“I don’t like that look,” he confirms. “What’d you change it to?”

You flip your phone around and hold it up to him.

“Bunny?” he says incredulously once again.

“Yes.”

“I give you Picasso, one of the greatest painters of all time, and you think giving me bunny is anywhere near on par with that?”

Teasing him is far too fun, especially when he makes it this easy for you.

“Oh absolutely. In fact, I think it’s the best name I could possibly set it as.”

Jungkook disagrees, vehemently. “No, change it back. PJK is fine.”

“Too late. You dug your grave, now lie in it.”

Jungkook brings a hand to his face, pinching the crease between his brows and takes a very long, deep breath, exhaling just as dramatically.

You take that as your victory. But you’re sorely mistaken.

He launches at you, reaching for your phone and you scream, reaching your arm to keep it away from him. You have a fox socked foot on his chest to try and keep him back. His right arm is holding him up near your hip on the couches edge and he’s reaching with his left as far as he can without breaking his sternum on your heel.

“Give it!”

“Never!”

You try to bring up your other foot to push him away, but Jungkook is strong, and forces both it and the one on his chest down with the arm that was supporting him, temporarily keeping himself up with his left hand on the back of the couch.

With your legs out of the way he can almost reach his phone. But in his distracted state, misses the couch when he goes to put his supporting arm down again, and flips onto the ground, taking you with him. You scream, but his arms wrap around you as he makes sure to take the brunt of the impact, landing on his back, you safely secured to his chest.

There’s a moment of pure stunned silence, you resting your forhead on his chest while you process, him not letting go of your waist as he gets a breath into his winded self, before you’re both laughing as you take in what happened.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, you?”

He takes a second to respond. “I’m great.”

You push to sit up, and he releases you from his hold, but that was a mistake. Because now you’re sitting on his lap.

It takes an entire three seconds of you staring at him and him staring right back before you jump and scramble off him as fast as you can.

“Sorry.” you say in unison, you standing and him from the ground. It’s a painfully awkward 8 seconds before you break, cackling at the whole situation, and he joins in with you again.

Jungkook brushes off his pants as he gets up too. “Got any plans before tonight,” he asks, business as usual.

“Nope, cleared my schedule in case this went long, I’ve got the whole day.”

You swear his smile grows two sizes.

“Well in that case,” he looks to the TV, then back to you, “Wanna start movie night early?”

An entire day to relax and chill out before the hell that is exams season takes your every free second?

Yes please.

“Solstice movie marathon?” you propose slyly, near devious.

“I’ll get the popcorn,” he confirms, already halfway to the kitchen.

You spend the day like that, on the couch watching movie after movie, both pretending the little incident never even happened.

But you make sure to go home after movie night this time.

Chapter Nine: TBR

A/N 2: This chapter kicked my ass but it's here and I couldn't be more thrilled. I really like how it's ended so I hope you guys do too.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

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slavicafire · 6 months ago

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Hi! I love your posts about perfumes and I was wondering how did you get so into it? You don't have to answer if you don't want to of course, but I was just curious if you can and if so, where u can learn more about perfumes and recognizing the scents, bc it's something I have big trouble with ☺️

oh! my dearest stranger! you have opened the cursed door and let out the rambling plague upon this wretched world—alas, 'tis time to yap.

there are three main components to finding yourself engrossed in the world of fragrances, or really, should I simply say, scents. the basics are just as crucial as the study of ingredients and interactions, and the sentimental and memory-related just as thrilling as simply finding something that smells nice on you and for you.

basics: develop your basic understanding of different scents. find out what you like and what you dislike, and learn to recognise how things smell. it might sound silly but it is actually a very enjoyable experiment, especially if you feel a bit lost and you're not sure how to start.

do you have a favourite smell? favourite flower or fruit or body wash, or body mist, or a cleaning product? maybe it's the smell of freshly mowed grass or a particular baked sweet? learn what it's supposed to smell of and focus on remembering and recognising that smell. seek it out, think about it, know it.

smell things a lot. I mean it: products you use, food you eat, flowers you pass on your walks. smell your books and your sun-kissed skin, smell your pets and your friends. focus on the scents that inhabit every second of your life, and you'll notice there are so so many. smell some nasty things every once in a while, too, you might discover unexpected thrills.

start a basic note exercise. choose three basic notes you find interesting, ones that are simple and recognisable, and smell them on their own - either through an extract, single note oil or perfume, or other medium. as an example, for me it was rose (beloved), vanilla (super recognisable) and sandalwood (classic). remember them, revisit them, and once you get the hang of them, seek them out in different combinations: check out some perfumes with one or more of those chosen notes, and see whether you can spot them there. see how they interact with different smells, in products and perfume and on your skin.

study: develop a stronger foundation to orient yourself in the world of fragrances. learn what ingredients there are and what processes are used to combine them. it doesn't have to be laborious or tedious, simply explore what different notes are there.

start with one of these quick lists: parfumado or fragrancex. you don't have to memorise anything, but do take your time to read through them and learn what ingredients are even used in perfume making and how and what for. if you're hungry for some more, check out the list on perfume society or wikiparfum. explore!

learn about head, heart and base olfactive notes. sylvaine delacourte has a nice explanation, or charlotte tilbury, or olfa originals. test whether you're able to notice how a chosen perfume develops and unravels on your skin: can you spot this change from head to heart, can you recognise the underlying base? it's alright if at first you absolutely can't, there are many variables there and it's not so easy at all!

find a perfume you have access to on fragrantica, and study its accords and notes. read the comments. use the perfume on yourself and see whether you can recognise the notes. maybe the perfume smells like something completely different to you? that's entirely possible and a very fun part of exploring fragrances; for example, I have a rose perfume that for me smells strongly of black olives and not much more. trust me, no shame in genuinely just reading the notes on fragrantica each time you use this perfume and trying to crack it. you don't have to know things by heart or immediately recognise many notes, that'll come with time and experience.

experience: make fragrances a part of your everyday life and explore how they shift and bloom for you. don't assume fragrances are just for special occasions every once in a blue moon or something super complicated you have to focus very hard on. make them a part of your life.

whenever you have the opportunity, try out testers in perfumeries and drug stores and any other places you spot them in. they're there to be used. ask for samples, check out online sales for some discounts, treat yourself to a discovery set. play around, widen your horizons, have fun!

once you have some samples or perfumes, try them out in different weather, different times of year and different times of day. different moods. if you're someone who menstruates, try them out during different parts of your cycle. try them out on somebody else's skin. try them after sex, or before a workout, or right before you go to sleep. see how they change.

scent-code your events. scent is the most powerful part of our memory: choose a perfume you use when you see your best friend, choose a perfume you'll use only during this trip you're going on, choose a perfume to use when going on evening walks in the summer or reading books in winter. you'll have a path paved with perfume to revisit, and you'll thank yourself for it.

but most importantly, explore and enjoy yourself: read, spray, buy or nick fragrances, ask your friends to try theirs when you visit them, and let your friends try yours. have fun and remember that it is a very personal, varied and subjective journey, and there is no wrong way to do it.

best of luck!

#serpents and scents #fragrances #perfume

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gofishygo · 6 months ago

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price x trans ftm reader who started his transition later in life? like just thinking... they served a tour or two together before reader transitioned. had a little fling going on, potentially on the way towards more. but after whatever mission/tour theyre on is over, reader slowly stops keeping in contact with price.

years down the line, the reunite during some sort of mission. price recognizes readers last name or callsign but the face he's met with is different. this man is happier.

price and reader get to talking in some downtime and decide that once this is all over (the mission they're on), they'll try and take some time together to make up for all the time they'd lost together. and price gets to meet the real you.

[PRIDE MONTH- WEEK ONE] : through green hydrangeas (my heart lies) price x ftm reader (part 1/2)

notes : (somewhat innacurate) descriptions of military, injury, brief outlines of smut (no explicits mentioned), gender dysphoria, reader gets outed towards the end. this may be edited later on.

wc- 1.8k

urzikistan- take down six targets aligned with al quatala, all terrorist backgrounds. a mission where location and timing and team were everything, pointed into maps and plotted into files, handled with fine-cut secrecy, knife-point precision, landed directly into price's aged hands. And now, at the final stretch, he'd been handed a few recruits at his expense. Fought with laswell against them, argued that his team could run through the enemy.

(and by god, how can he focus on the task at hand when he sees the shine in that operator's eyes, the curvature of his face? warm and familiar, the mother's milk suckled by a pup.)

It’s odd, having to work with a man so similar to her. narrowed eyes and sharp teeth, even sharing the same gun hed swore he gifted her- considers for a moment that maybe she’d changed, now baring a different name on id’s and passports, records crossed out and scrawled over. stole her last name as well, and before he’d even met you, he had already considered asking laswell to ship you off to whatever pmc would accept you.

but at the same time, he bites his tongue, wire muzzle to some refectory dog.

you seem to truly be alive, words barked with flame, spilled from your stomach, full-toothed smile instead of the sleazy grin she wore. you are her and aren’t her- and sometimes, maybe, he lets himself think youre better. sweeter. hates the way he still gives you the same greeting as he did to that woman, selfishly using a subordinate to fill out some cavity in his chest. but he can’t have it any other way, doesn’t want to have it in any other way.

a world where slowing down didn’t mean stopping. had a nice ring to it.

it's 0400 on the day of deployment. there's brittle crust in the ducts of your eyes that you hadn't been able to wash of in the changerooms, and now you are holding onto gun and hanging onto the sky by plane, listening to the clicks as you load and unload the magazines. missions like these, capture-kills with enemies that outdid your measures of brutality and lived for the beliefs of bloodshed in liberty; they weigh in your chest, some layers of adrenal fear smuggled under the layers of methodical, stoical behaviour. the buzzing headache that never left as a child, the feel of pressure wrapped around crevices of the cerebellum, tightening.

in these plights, you'd used to knock on price's door, hands itching to roll into fist- turning the fear you'd guide like a shepherd into the spit in stout-littered kisses, how you pulled off his clothes like the vulture to a corpse. the way your body moved against his was the nicotine you'd smoke on long nights. it was sickening, at first, how much control that you revelled in, the way that his name had found its place under your tongue. the way that he grabbed at the bone in your hips, worshipping, devotee. taken to his body like addict to a drug, the dissociation between you heart and the fat-filled mounds on your chest washed out by lust. he makes it feel like the ache was never there, that you could scream with the voice that had been trapped beneath high-strung vocal cords, unfortunate biology. and you let yourself beg to god; why, oh god why, why were you given a body at the cost of your life?

but now, navigating through some twisted buildings under the cover of night, clearing rooms in the hotel, you know that you're changed. the revelation behind the woman beneath price's sheets all those years ago, who'd stolen your skin and your eyes and your face- it could cost you your life, could have you shunned and dying like a dog on the streets. and yet, you still hold a weary head up and dream about-

Johnathan price. he still festered in your ribcage, face slipped away into the back of your skull, the bug you'd yet to squish as you drive military blade into an enemy's neck and muffle their mouth through dying thrashes. He nods, gruff sound muted behind mutton chops, murmuring an audible 'clear' through the fizzle of comms. And you let yourself wonder, if maybe those prismarine eyes can find yourself in the body now known as home. (He swears that your smile matches the woman he'd fell for through sparring matches and facebook posts. that old face he'd barely managed to blot out with cigars and whiskey and downed with bourbon and-) your team proceeds down the hallways,

‘all stations on right wing, target four is down. I repeat, target four is down. zero KIA.’ and your mouth quirks up a little. ‘deems that Ghost’s aim still doesn’t fail,” you muse. His eyebrow raises- only slightly- at the tense of your words. still.

“certainly doesn’t,” and you want to drink the strain in his voice until its ache is gone.

another few minutes of clearing the building. the repetitions of breaking open the same doors with the same crowbars, gun peeking through the side of the frame. So similar, practiced in recon and real-world situations, yet never being comfortable, safe. it’s almost automatic at this point, reducing your phycology to nothing more than the gun that you wield- deciding, acting. but looking over at price- the look in his eyes know’s you’d been injured. Bubbling fire deep in your marrow, fear bittering the air around you; foul, unappetising, yet it feels the captain wants to swallow you whole.

and now it rips through you- feels like your insides are pouring out, scrap of kidney and intestine pooling out at the starburst entry point. some pained shriek ripped out of your throat. at one point, you waited next to the doorframe of a room, (sixty-four left wing, is it?) and the next, some enemy operator had opened a hole in your stomach.

whatever moment between that is an animated blur, dismal and discoloured where sound pools in your ears instead of song. a captain- your captain, tackling the man to the ground in a double-leg-takedown, throwing down the gun at their side, the high wail of shots fired ringing into your ear while a teammate -the milky white patch on her face makes you assume it might be nova- drags you behind the wall as cover, your teammates taking position to cover for price, but also rip through the inhabitants of the room. and for the first time in the mission, you let fear curdle in your throat alongside the blood clinging to it’s walls, drip into your bloodstream and bury itself into bone. cant tell if the shadow hazing your thoughts is the predecessor death or subdued panic finally breaking though it’s confines . and you find it bitter, stupid, wholly in your heart, that even as your stomach spills onto the floor of a home that wasn’t yours, that part of your brain still festers. a possibility that the only man who could make your heart beat- john price, and his affair with the woman who’d stolen your soul and locked it behind flesh. Letting out some bitter laugh, feeling blood trace your lips whilst some stray bullet manages to hit the skull of an enemy, heard by the ungodly gurgle and tear of bullet through flesh, confirmed by the hum of your comms. “target two on left wing down, one broken-” price, now next to you, lets hard eyes settle against your form, dying star. “-seems to need medic.” another voice fizzles to life on the radio- laswell’s, you presume. “team delta, split to d1-d2. d1 continue to clear left wing, d2 head to rendezvous point.”

you can only really groan, blood bubbling to your throat when price hauls you to face his side, hissing out some curse as you hold shaky hand to where the blood seems to be leaking from. “easy there soilder-“ john grunts, wrenching your hand out of the way with a firm grip- a bear gripping her cub the scruff of it’s neck, holding it so tenderly between her teeth. one of your other teammates- cant identify them, head too filled up with adrenaline filled cloud and the haze to blood loss to register their shape- seems to toss over a roll of bandages. and if you had breath left, you would have barked out some half-assed remark about how strategically awful it was to tear off the gear and pull off the shirt of your uniform, but the nerves of the paled scars below your chest being revealed to cold air had your mouth shut, jaws locked, like wired muzzle to a dog. trying not to choke on the blood and jerk away when his eyes meet the placement of the wound.

it's diasporic, shaped like a dying star above you tattoo you’d had engraved deep into your dermis all those years ago. the 141’s old symbol- jagged sword without the skull, olive branches extending through its frame. a part of you far more distinctive, more tolerable to remember than thought of the girl who had decided to have it etched into her skin. And now your captain can see both of those on you- in you- and shamefully, you let lurid fear bite into you, thoughts snapping with teeth, breaking down the glass bars that composed the cage you made. Price may never kiss that tattoo again during the long nights, now look at the memories you’d made with a lens tinted by hatred. “nice to put a name to the face,”

he murmurs, wrapping the bandage to compress the wound, once, twice, thrice around your waist. Hauls your arm around his shoulder and begins the trek to the rendezvous point. one arm was pressed just above where he knew your tattoo rested, no mind to whatever blood trickles in the cracks of his fingers. “ill see you back at burningham, love,” its like your submerged in water now, eyes blurry with seawater and ears deafened by the tide filling their crevices. with the last of your energy, you tug yourself towards price, fingers tangled in his, doubling over and feeling the bandages settle under the layer of fat and muscle on your ribs. letting yourself dream of him for what seems to be your last time, fingers tangled together, pretending that your gasps for air were nothing more than laughter echoes against crashing waves on british shores, letting fresh saltwater air tangle you hair and travel your windpipe.

by the time the captain scoops you up, you’re far too deep in oceanwater, back against rocky seafloor. “stand strong, soldier,” and even through his gruff voice, you still notice the way it almost begs, song of prayer tucked away deep in his voicebox . some words he had hidden. price pulls you closer with his arm, fingers clawed and desperate, and the world crashes against you all at once.

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coqhee · 4 months ago

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A DATE FOR YOU! ♡ ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE

✷ what types of dates enhypen hyung line would take you on! 〟read maknae line here

bf! enha hyung line x gn!reader︲fluff, romance︲pet names, grammar errors.︲1000 / more

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 would take you on very romantic dates in which he would always be touchy with you. whether that’s having his hand resting on your waist, or hand in hand, he wants to be near you at all times. he wouldn’t really care where the date is, but so long as he can be near you. i can picture him taking you to an aquarium to see all sorts of aquatic life.

“hee! look at the cute shark swimming our way!” you exclaimed with delight, amazed at how smoothly the shark seemed to glide through the water with ease.

heeseung watched as your eyes filled with joy just simply watching animals go about their life. he hummed with content seeing you light up at the marine life surrounding you.

he could honestly care less about the shark, all he could focus on was your hand in his giving him a tight squeeze of affection.

“doll, you think that shark is cuter than me?” he asked jokingly to see your expression. you turned to him giggling at the silly question your boyfriend had just asked.

“it might be, id have to do some very long thinking,” you teased to your boyfriend. he made a facial expression of pretend hurt before putting on his famous smirk.

before you could turn back to admire the shark, he gently held your chin in his hand and pulled you in for a warm and alluring kiss. his lips felt soft and familiar against yours. his other hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. just as you wanted more, he pulled away.

“bet the shark can’t do that huh,” he quipped holding that same smirk back at you, leaving you a flustered mess as you felt a shade of rose rise to your cheeks. this man never failed to give you an insane amount of butterflies.

“i suppose you’re cuter,” you give in, as a smile of pride appears onto his face.

other members under the cut!

─── ♡ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 would definitely take you on more classy dates. hes a sucker for a nice candlelit dinner with the love of his life. not being too big of a fan of public affection i can see that he would love to spoil you with expensive gifts so taking you shopping right after dinner wouldnt surprise me in the slightest.

“thank you for the dinner jay, i can pay you back once i get my next paycheck,” you thanked graciously. truth be told, your next paycheck (or two) for that matter would not be able to cover the cost of your dinner alone, but hey you can always wish.

this was jays doing of course, he loved to take you out to dine at fancy restaurants, this place being no exception.

“dont even worry about it baby. you know i love spoiling you anytime i get the chance. let me be your wallet,” he responded back with a smile, patting your head.

he held his hand out offering to take your tote bag to which you declined initially. he insisted on you not needing to carry your bag to which you reluctantly agreed to him carrying as long as he would let you pay for whatever else you bought in the mall.

however he knew he wouldnt let that happen on his watch anyways. ─── ♡

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 would love to take you on a fun and exhilarating date. there was never a dull point in your relationship with him, not just that though. he always makes sure to put your enjoyment first, and does small hand squeezes to make sure you’re okay and having fun. taking all of that into account, he would totally take you on a carnival date and try to win you the biggest plushies ever, no matter how many tries it takes.

“aww that cat plush is so adorable!” you exclaimed walking past a carnival game stall. you pointed towards the plush causing jake to look over.

he thought for a moment and you could see the gears turning in his head.

“well its your lucky day, cause im about to win that for you angel,” he smiled with sincerity. you could tell he was down to empty his wallets if that meant getting you that plush.

he gave you a small kiss on your forehead and watched as you giggled at the feeling. you looked up to see your boyfriend wink before walking over to the stall greeting the worker.

after a short 10 minutes, you watched as he whipped around in excitement, holding the plush in hand up to you. butterflies erupted in your stomach seeing him hold the biggest grin ever as he handed you the plush.

“anything for you baby,”

─── ♡

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 would love to keep you close and is a big fan of physical touch, so any date involving being in close proximity of you is a win in his book. of course he want to take you ice skating. however, not wanting you to slip and fall like you did last time, hed opt for a cute date where you can walk around, such as long walks on beach!

“baby let’s get some cute pictures together with the sunset in the background!” you shouted to your boyfriend, pulling him forward towards the water.

“here, let me hold the phone,” he offered extending the hand that wasn’t on your waist out to your hand. you gladly let him take the phone to take some cute selfies with the beach as well as individual ones.

“one last photo then we can get dinner, okay hoonie?” you reassured with a comfortable smile on your face as you posed for the camera.

“whatever you want baby,” he said smiling, holding the phone out to take the photo for you. he grinned like an idiot just watching you enjoy yourself, although he didn’t mind being a lovesick fool for you.

you ran to him with excitement to see the photos, pleased with the outcome. you soon found yourself tired, the long walk being simply too long.

“getting tired?” sunghoon asked gently pausing down to look at you. you nodded, then looked inwards to continue walking

all of a sudden he swept you off your feet and you found yourself being held bridal style by him. you weren’t complaining though, less walking for you and he seemed more than happy to take the weight off your feet.

he leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your lips and smiled pulling away.

“love you baby”

─── ♡

a/n. id be lying if i said i didn’t want my future bf (heeseung) to take me on these dates 😓😓 maknae line coming soon!

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notthecutesttrash · 4 months ago

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Late Night Call

(Alpha/omega AU) Ghostface x reader

Content: You live with your parents, and as an omega who can’t usually go out, you’re alone during your heat. That is until you get a mysterious call.

Warnings: 18+ Smut, rough sex, blood, stalking, mentions of knives, daddy kink

Word count: 6.6k

PART 2

To my favorite killer, enjoy~

The throb in your head was just as brutal as the heat searing around your body or, as the slick producing and pouring down your clammy skin. Grunting, you shifted your body in discomfort once more, your eyes attempting hard to focus on the movie that you had purposely put on for a small attempt to ignore this irritating, biological monthly function. The grunt soon shifted into a small whimper, feeling a pesky bubble in your stomach when you took a nice large inhale through your nose. Your hands quickly shifted to grapple tightly onto the tight cushions beside you, as if to stabilize an already sitting figure.

There was that alpha scent again, lingering around like a cloud of smoke, stuck to every particle of air. You’ve smelt them all and you always made complaints. Arguing that they were usually all the same. Most scents smelt like sweat, few beautifully good, but this… this was a heavenly smell that you never experienced. Somehow all you wanted was for it to cling down to your clothes, for that specific alpha, whoever it was, to fuck you as their life depended on it, and to knot you… deep and tight.

The night surrounding your closed windowed house, made it easy to express loneliness, as no one within a mile radius was close. No being was here, just you, all alone, frightened, and in a terrible omega heat.

Fiddling with the controller, your eyes could barely make out the commands, it was blurred and dark. From this you huffed out, pressing a hand to the pounding ache in your temples, down to the tensity in your neck. There wasn’t even a tad of a helping hand, or at least some fucking cooler that you can stick yourself in. Yet before you could agonize even more on how irritating the situation was, the phone rang.

It was loud and vexed you as much as an alarm. Nonetheless, you mustered through gritted fear and pain. You reached over to grip the phone tightly. Your hand managed to grasp it so harsh, that it was alarming its counterpart didn’t just get yanked out of its wire. Though if that happened then you'd really be stuck, with a low-battery phone, unable to charge.

“Hello..?” your voice came out in exhausted slurs.

The voice that answered back with the same word differed plenty. There wasn’t much to go on by, yet you let out a small grunt of disapproval from the dizzy intrigue surrounding your body.

The mysterious person spoke. “Who is this?” He had said as if he hadn’t called you first. If you weren’t in unfortunate shape, then perhaps you would have laughed and joked crudely, but this time you did nothing but struggle to quickly get to the point.

Your ragged breaths managed to barely declare, “I should ask the same.” Instinctively the man chuckled beneath his breath, and too brisk to shut up or lock away, a small moan released.

How embarrassing, imagine some wrong-number stranger moaning over the phone.

However, It didn’t appear as if it was heard, and you opened your mouth to speak, taking a turn this time to ask who you were speaking to. It was cut off quickly.

“What’s your name?” The man asked serenely, his voice slow… almost slower than what you assumed to be normal, making you feel every little syllable and breath. Mind clouded with fog, you responded, hardly able to remember that this was some strange random who made a mistake with his calls.

“(Y/n)…” you whispered, eyes clouded with lust.

Swearing you could hear the smirk in his tone, he responded nonchalantly, “(Y/n)… what a pretty name,” it was slow, oh so slow, and gorgeously sexy, with just the right pitch of smugness that made you already more wet then you were.

Exhaling a hitched breath, you nodded quickly, for a second forgetting that this man was over the phone and not in front of you. You weren’t sure what got over you, but the instinctive omega need made your hand slowly move beneath your pants, down your underwear, and over to your soaked folds.

“What’s wrong (Y/n)?” He then said, coincidentally taunting.

Your words were spoken through desperate exhales “Nothing.” Fingers swirling at your clit, you let out a tiny… barely noticeable hiss of a moan. Back arching, head craning back against the couch, your dizzy fogged head and blackened vision saw a void that the man managed to speak through… like nothing.

“Are you sick?” The man presumed, yet even with these words that faked a small sense of worry, you could tell that it was knowing, harsh, and teasing.

Shaking your head a no rapidly, your teeth dragged your lower lip in, biting softly as you felt a wave of arousal swirl down to your needy heat. “N-No.. I’m just…” trailing off, you thought quickly of what to say, but no utters were voiced. You were only a muddled form, on the brink of orgasm, begging to be filled.

This time his voice was deliberately intimidating, threatening, and quick. “Just what?”

Moaning in response, your head curved around the tall cushion behind you, fingers striving to stimulate every bit of your nerve-wracking clit. Seeking no response, you continued the treatment towards your throbbing cunt swiftly.

“Ah… maybe you’re just a little horny omega in heat.” You froze. Your hand is stuck in place, eyes widening instinctively. Suddenly a horrid shiver of fear got sent down to your spine.

“H-How did you know… I was an omega..?” You asked with a sudden spike of anxiousness, a breath caught in your throat.

“I didn’t,” he stated.

Suddenly you had felt like a fool for revealing such a horrible fact, while you're especially alone in a large house at night, talking to a stranger over the phone.

“O-Oh…” you whispered a blatant stutter.

“You still didn’t answer me omega, are you horny, or are you not?”

The tone became more ridiculing, yet so invigoratingly demanding. In obvious truth, you should have been offended by a stranger who was suddenly asking such odd rude questions. But the rational hidden side of you was stowed away, overpowered by your quivering omega counterpart. It only now cherished the idea of being fucked brutally by some stranger with a hot terrifying voice. At the thought, your fingers continued to softly circle your clit.

“I… no…” you trailed off.

It was perhaps one of the worst lies you had ever told, but… some part of you didn’t mind him knowing. It felt different, trustworthy, and just.. right, just as this overpowering alpha scent that was near your form. Somewhere… meters away for all you knew. It’s almost as if it was taunting your frightened figure to go waltzing out in the dark forests alone, to likely only find nothing in the end.

(E/c) blinking up at the light hanging over your head, you somehow quickly felt more sickeningly dizzy. It was like a drug overpowering every sense other than arousal and awareness for this strange being.

“Oh?” Your pussy twitched harshly. “Is that why your hand is down your cunt then?”

You weren’t sure what came first, the pure terrifying horror, or the powerful sloppy arousal. A sudden chill blew to your arms and over your neck. Every little goosebump and hair rapidly spiked up.

“What?” You rasped out, fingers shuffling to a quick pause, your eyes widened, and your head instinctively turned to glimpse at the windows facing you.

Nothing but darkness.

Taking a sharp inhale through your nose, you begin to quiver through your horror, a shaky moan escaping. This scent was intoxicating, brutal, and so lovely… The scent of an Alpha, nearing closer and closer. God, it began to feel like it was in this very house beside you.

Words were said once more, but this time, you could hardly hear a thing. Instead, you were so focused on that particular powerful smell that you didn’t even manage to notice the ripple of pleasure making its way down to your womanhood, adding to the trickling slick.

“Get up,” he said, drawing you out of the circling daze. It was commanding and strong, and your wobbling legs quickly arose with a quick subliminal nod to his words. Promptly, your hand gripped the top of the couch, hardly walking even a step before he spoke once more, adding much more to the struggle.

“Keep going princess,” you were shaking, straining to hold upon the walls for support. Your legs were becoming putty, with breaths so labored that you could hardly hear yourself. Any other normal human being should have been paralyzed, angry, irritated at this stupid little joke. But you weren’t… you wanted to listen, you wanted commands, and you oh so desperately wanted loving attention.

A few sluggish steps later you had made it to the kitchen, hands gripping tightly onto the counters as if you were bound to collapse any second.

“Why?” You whispered out, particularly to no one.

“I just want to play a game (Y/n), can you handle that for me?” The man questioned smoothly. Slick trickled down your legs, and the fluttering heat produced in your stomach shuffled uncomfortably.

“Y-Yes…” The omega quickly answered, followed by a small curious part of the reason.

“W-Wait… who are you?” The voice from this chuckled, and surely a grin was tugging at his lips.

“If you be a good girl, I’ll tell you, all right?”

Softly humming in quiet shaky approval, a sudden chill ran over your skin.

But I am a good girl… A small voice whimpered back in your head.

Please fuck me, another small voice begged, hips wiggling at the thought.

Within seconds, the scent increased tenfold. It was close, oh so close. You didn’t know where but you were pleading. With eyes shut, head lulling to the side, you Inhaled deep, a small sweet “alpha” slipping from under your tongue. The man chuckled closely, almost sounding as if it was directly behind your form. In return your knees buckled under your weight, small sweet moans following.

The omega side soon subsided for a small moment and a horrid realization struck you. A gasp widened your eyes in fear. You pulled your arm away in slow horror to your sight. The phone in your hand said nothing but the time, signifying the call had already ended. The hairs upon the back of your neck raised, and the breath you were to exhale caught in your throat.

Suddenly you heard as clear as day “Turn around omega... Unless you want it to be a surprise." The man bore an even darker tone in person.

Immediately a flicker of dark fear burned into your hammering heart when you realized where the sound had come from. It was as clear as the masked hot breathing down your form, an inch away from your frozen figure.

Every single form of fear exploded out, and suddenly the thoughts of inevitable demise had burst into your throat. You were unable to move. A hand wrapped in black leather-like fabric, grasped the phone out of your shaky hands and placed it far over the counter. Swallowing a harsh dry lump, you gasped out a terrified breath from a chest full of anxious pain, a trickle of tears eventually forming in your eyes.

The atmosphere became painfully silent, your body frozen in time. No words were said as you could feel dangerous fingers stroke through your strands softly. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. Even with such an action, it felt terrifying, like he was threatening you.

Even with such fear, the urge to lean into the touch was undeniable. The leather-like fingers moved down to the fabric over your back. They graced your shoulders and continued in a single line down your spine. Eventually, they stopped once they hit your hips.

“Now.. tell me those words you said again.” The mysterious figure ruled, his voice much more clear and terrifyingly close.

Escape wasn’t an option, it was far from one by now. If you had decided to step merely an inch back, you would’ve been leaning into his chest. His voice was down your neck, sending rough chills into the death-like coldness. An odd mixture began to form, a blistering omega heat, mixed with ice-like fear.

The man’s hand snaked to your front, gently rubbing up your stomach until he reached your breasts. A harsh squeeze choked out a desperate unexpected moan. Your pussy twitched in need, causing the idea of escaping a cloudy figment of imagination.

“Hmm? I can’t hear you omega.” He leaned down to your ear, another hand gingerly running up to your pulsing airway.

You were supposed to be terrified, quaking in your boots, yet you couldn’t help but lean into his touch lovingly, your form slumping in easy relaxation. A soft appreciating moan escaped once his fingers grazed over your tender needy nipples. Run, a voice told you, hide, another said, then there was the dumb-ass omega side, that broke out with an aching “please.”

The voice was just the same over the phone.. yet even better… so filled with overbearing domination. “I don’t think so.”

Inhaling another large whiff, a lulled groan too hard to elude slipped from under your tongue. It was your alpha, you knew this and neither did you have a second of doubt.

A flash of reason pounded hard into your head, and your hand instantaneously lunged for the phone that was only so close. His gloved hand clasped over yours tight and harshly before your fingertips could even grace the object that was oh so close. Ignoring your sad little attempt, he leaned down to you once more.

“Maybe you need help remembering,” the man teased, a knowing snicker deliberately escaping. “I can always fuck it out of you,” he then adds, almost causing you to sputter out in shock. Your throat went dry, and with widened scared eyes, you realized that the words must’ve slipped.

“… I-I didn’t-” your struggling remark was ignored as well. The assailant… or whatever he was, leaned down to your neck and inhaled a rather nice large scent. An omega in heat could be smelled from long distances away, but it was different, you were his omega, and nobody else’s. You both seem to be aware of the moment he stepped within a half-mile radius of your area.

The urge of desire over being marked or claimed was too unbearable, and your biological need caused you to crane your neck into him, begging for the bite to come.

The figure did nothing, and instead, he waited, stalling as you writhed under him, desperately wiggling into his clothed cock. Purposely, he watched your little pained expressions every moment he had exhaled a breath over your neck.

You desperately bucked your hips into him multiple times. The arousal he felt was obvious, all from your little display and sweet scent. The outline of his hard cock made you moan out with excitement.

“Please… Alpha,” you began to lament endlessly in frustration. Your hips couldn’t help but continuously wiggle into him.

He exhaled roughly, sounding as if you were driving him crazy. His inevitable need queued for aiding his omegas pesky little heat. A primal aroused growl released, and you nearly dropped right then and there.

A gloved hand grabbed at your neck and he pulled your entire body into him forcefully. It staggered you, but luckily because between the counter and him, you weren’t just about to drop yet.

“A little omega begging to be fixed.” He hummed, a free gloved hand reaching down, beneath your pants to your dripping folds. Moaning loudly in response, you leaned hard into him, barely able to speak with his clutching hold upon your neck.

“You..” You only managed to sputter out.

“Good girl. You’re already learning.” The praise alone made you moan out happily and tingle with desire. Into your ear, he declared a chilling yet somehow… comforting threat.

“If some other asshole even tries, I’ll fucking gut them, you got that?” You should’ve been afraid and horrified, but the instant claim he had over you, made you melt in pride and joy. Yes... you’re his. Only his.

”Yes alpha..” Your words came in moaned whispers.

“Mm, I like the sound of that. But it’d be even better if you called me daddy, princess.” Your pussy clenched at the thought, and you nodded. You just loved the idea of calling your alpha daddy as he fucked you senseless.

“Yes, daddy..” It fell from your lips so naturally, you’d think he already had fucked you before.

Suddenly he had switched his black leathered hand to the nape of your neck, and before you had any time to respond, he shoved your figure down, bending your upper form harshly over the countertop. A surprised yelp left you once your cheek hit the cold marble, and in that brisk moment, your pants were shoved down to your mid-thighs.

There it was… an embarrassing display of light pink soaked panties, only for him to see.

Sliding his finger to a long rub down the damp stain, he spoke, and you shivered. “What a naughty girl, did you get this needy just by hearing my voice?” He hummed, his fingers slowly moving up and down, causing a clenching quiver in your body. It was making the arousal twenty times worse.

God, it felt so good.

“Ah… oh..mm..” The louder moans that fell from your lips were loving and sweet, just enough for him to let out a loud pleased grunt of his own. You wiggled your hips into him, the lovely sound of his gruff voice drenched your folds almost double the amount.

His movements then switched after his long slow teasing, and his concealed thumb shifted to rotate in swift circles at your clit. Your legs were shaking, and you were trying hard to move and squirm freely under his hold. The pleasure was coiling harshly up in your heat, your pussy desperately clenching around nothing.

“Or was it smelling me that whole time?” Mouth opening to possibly deny, an immediate gasp forcefully subsided it. Your panties were instantly shoved down to your thighs.

It must have been quite the shameful sight, because he couldn’t help but chuckle darkly, his eyes observing and drinking in the scene of a throbbing drenched cunt twitch at his every little action. He continued his sweet abuse on your clit again.

“Daddy…please.. a-alpha… I..” you began to whine aimlessly, irritated tears nearly releasing, pleading for your pussy to just be filled already.

An irritated growl was released, and he tightened his hold on your nape. “Speak the fuck up.” His tone was much deeper this time. You had ripped the predator from its prey, but you couldn’t care, you were so desperate.

“Daddy, please! Please!” God, surely you sounded so pathetic.

“Hm? Still can’t hear you.” He pulls away and your heart sinks at the coiling pleasure instantly dying down. “Guess my slutty little omega doesn’t want to cum.”

“No! No no! Daddy- Alpha- alpha, please! Please!” At this point you're begging aimlessly, hoping and praying for him to give in. After no eventual response, you draw out a long pitiful, “Alphaaa.”

He speaks like he's smirking, and asks “what?” like nothing was wrong. You wiggled into his clothed cock, pleading desperately. It was a dangerous game to play, but you no longer cared.

“Claim me, knot me. Please, please.. just fuck me.” Your needy words made him hum, but it wasn’t enough.

“Louder.”

The embarrassment turned in you. You go quiet for a bit, pursing your lips.

"Daddy..” you muttered out in a small plead.

“Say it.”

“Please fuck me!!” He does the same hum with a tilt of his head, surely a wide grin on his face.

“Louder.”

The frustration and tears force you to yell out the loudest plead you thought possible. “Daddy please fuck me!!!”

That seemed to instantly work. Within a quick moment of some shuffling, the head of his thick cock, almost leaking with pre-cum, poked at your hole. It pushed in a centimeter, then stopped, shifting to only rub teasingly. You whimpered. The hold over at your neck moved to your shoulder then down your spine. He pressed your squirming form down tightly.

Unexpectedly, when you had waited for more continuous teasing and were just about to wholeheartedly cry out a beg, he ripped his cock halfway through your walls. Your throat felt like it couldn’t make much for inhale. Neither could you find the room to request a pause… your breaths could only stagger so much. The man’s hips moved, and his splitting cock almost felt as if it was increasing in size, pushing deeply into you, aiming until it couldn’t any longer.

In a futile attempt to hold onto anything as he continued to slowly bury himself to a hilt inside your aching cunt, you stretched your arm out to reach the end of the counter. Though in his perspective, it surely must've looked as if you were reaching for the phone that had been only a few inches away. With that he held his hand harshly over yours again, igniting a rumble of a whimper.

Within a quick moment, he began to move and pound severely into your walls, and without a chance of accommodation to his size, he pulled out to only slam through the tightness again. It had only been a few seconds and he had already fucked out every little breath you could hold in your body.

“W-Wait Daddy-“ you were interrupted by a slam of his hips into your cunt, and a thrilling moan escaped your mouth. His hand moved away from yours, and although you were not planning on it, he smacked away the phone with a simple regardless flick, hearing it bounce away and slam onto the floor, almost sounding as if it had exploded into parts. His gloved hand then grabbed a fistful of your hair, and he began to pull at it mercilessly to crane your head back.

“Oh? Now you want me to wait?” He said, and god you swore his endless sarcasm and smug words, would only make you cum much faster and harder.

The omega side of you loved this, and you had forgotten any sense of rationality as this alpha had pounded into you viciously. With the hold upon your hair, your pussy held down on his cock, tightening the hold of your walls instinctively. Your moans were continuous and you made no work to conceal them, instead, they began to get louder and louder as you felt every inch of him repeatedly.

Hardly able to hold any time over your words of need, your other less abused arm moved down as much as it could, begging silently for his touch. His fingers curled through yours, intertwining once his second hand dropped from your hair, and he moved to your waist, holding you steady. Head falling weakly with a thud, you continued to take the abuse in your pussy, the abuse that you craved for so long. A wave of shaking pleasure was beginning to form.

It was clear that you were sobbing, begging for a knot that you could feel within him. Please, please, please, just give it to me before I cum, I’ll do anything, pleaded the voice in your head that made its way to your lips quickly.

However, you had spoken too soon, and in seconds an alarming frightening climax snuck up. Too immobile and weak to hardly react upon it properly, your coiling pussy trembled as much as your tightened sore muscles. You exhaled a loud cry, legs shaking through the rough quivering release. Your lips soon fell with begs, pleading for him to at least hold on before he cruelly fucked you hard through it. As expected, nothing slowed, and your overworked nerves sobbed.

“Tell me omega, what do you want?” He had a quicker gruff pace to his words, rather than his usual steadiness. It sounded so perfect it made you excited.

“I need y-your knot.. please, give it to me. D-Daddy, I need it so bad- p-please, I- Ah!” His cock split your walls further, hitting at your core with such ease. You moaned hastily, his body curling over yours. It felt delicious.

The thought of him being ready to take whatever he desired with a singular thrust of his hips into your tight anticipating excited body, sent you over the edge.

Beads of sweat from your biological heat rolled down your skin, and your labored breathing sped up higher and higher.

Yes.. this is what you finally wanted. Please.

“Oh, I’ll give you more than that, don’t worry baby.” he declared in a gruff. The grip of his increased, and you knew that his knot was coming, and this produced an ever so pleased moan. You could repeatedly cum just from the thought itself.

He was climaxing soon, and feeling it your hips began to buck and roll onto his prodding shaft, feeling a second instantaneous break about to erupt. He grunted and with this, his pace quickened violently, and you were sure that your eyes were already rolling to the back of your head.

The fucking was ruthless and you had no time to immediately adjust once he shoved himself completely to the end of your cunt and halted to a harsh stop. A gorgeous low huffed groan was barely heard as you felt his large knot along with his dribbling cum pour deep within you.

A rippling orgasm like electricity convulsed in your body, and from the deepest parts of your throat, you let out an undeniably happy whine as you came hard against him. “Good fucking girl,” he praised, running his fingers down your hair while your body twitched, almost completely unable to move.

“D-Daddy…” you whispered, unsure if it was even heard.

Feeling his cock slowly remove itself from your sloppy aching hole, your walls cried with exhaustion.

Still, it wasn’t enough, the heat igniting in your body was too frequent, and although you were tired, you whimpered at the removal.

Yet you realized quickly that it was a grave mistake to plead so soon.

You finally understood this once he flipped you around harshly, your back slamming against the cold marble counter.

Pulling your shirt away from your clammy body within a second, he threw it and grabbed at your legs. The grip of his was harsh, and he dragged you down effortlessly until your ass almost completely hung off the counter.

With no time to react, his thick cock plunged deep inside of you. Pulling back in moans, your eyes flickered up in need.. but It was then you gasped and realized what had been fucking into you.

He was a tall masked figure, a white long face with a black shroud of clothing surrounding him. But what was worse, was the fact that there were several drips and splatters of red liquids all over some empty clean spots of his white ghostly face.

The masked figure tilted his head to stare at you, an intimidating demeanor that your pussy twitched in response to. He was fucking into you mercilessly without a care in the world of what was on him, and your questioning became short as a sudden moan ripped you away.

Your neck craned back to the ceiling, too focused on the cock spearing your walls and the blinding heat of arousal in your body, to care about the specifics of a strange dangerous alpha fucking you deep. He was probably some fucking murderer for all you knew.

“A-Ah! Right there! Please, d-don’t… stop,” you gasped out, another climax already on the verge of rushing in. Anticipated frustrated tears were streaming down your cheeks, your throat tight and dry, while your helpless pussy struggled to take the abuse that you so craved.

You let out a loud obnoxious moan and suddenly a forgotten ring in the air made you both pause. For a moment you thought it was your ears alone, and when you had so clearly ignored it, the masked man halted, your climax so dearly on the edge of exploding now stopping.

“No!” Your needy self couldn’t help but plead as he left you.

His form moved away, and you raised your head to groan. It took you no more than a few seconds to realize that as he stepped away and let out a small eerie chuckle, his body was filled with blood splotches.

He placed two items beside you, a phone… and a sharp item that you could barely see. Although he had on a mask, you still were able to take notice of the certain taunting-like expression he most certainly held.

He was definitely ready for you to say something you might just regret.

With slow realization, your blurry eyes managed to scan over the item. It was indeed a bloody very much used hunting knife… And god you hoped that the blood was from hunting and not from what you thought.

A ring was heard again, and the phone beside you is vibrating angrily. Glimpsing to him, your eyes held some question for approval.

“Answer it.” He demanded. His cock was still out, and it was so visibly near your hole that you were almost angry he couldn't just pound you now. He tilted his head to the side when you bit your lip, hesitating.

Eyes flickering to the knife once more, you inhaled a sharp breath and picked up the phone, pressing answer and sputtering out a “hello…?”

“Hello? (Y/n)? What are you doing?” Your mother on the other end had answered, a voice filled with curiosity. Opening your dry mouth to speak, words were on the tip of your tongue.

Before you could manage to breathe out or even think of an answer, the man’s cock had immediately slammed into your needy cunt. "I-I" Your hands rapidly clasped your mouth shut before a squeal would escape. He was abrupt, moving quickly, slamming into you repeatedly with a heedless demeanor. You exhaled a very shaky noticeable breath and attempted to answer serenely.

“I-I’m just… watching a movie Mom..”

Breathe… just breathe, ignore it, a rational voice spoke. Your eyes were dilating at every thrust, and your omega part instantly shut that up.

“It’s not a horror movie is it?” As she was talking, he gripped tight on the back of your knees, and spread your legs even wider apart to go deeper. Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, and you weren't even listening anymore.

“N-No.. I don’t know..” You sputtered out random words, barely able to think straight with his cock thrusting in you.

Fear mixed into pleasure. The climax was rushing and you were terrified, afraid that even with the efforts of holding it back, it would explode mid-sentence for all to hear.

Your eyes were moving back and forth from the ceiling to him, desperate to get your mind off of it.

But, how could you when he was fucking you so ruthlessly?

You bit desperately onto your tongue to avoid getting caught rasping out moans for a strange alpha.

“Well, stay away from those, you’re already in heat.. and alone. You don’t need to be scared too.. not to mention it’s night, and-“ she began to go on an endless rant and you're dissociating as he rams you.

His hand then switched positions, and with this, he moved to your clit. You weren’t necessarily sure what he was doing, and you're staring at him helplessly. A fear is drawn into your eye until he squeezed at your clit and tugged. This instinctively forced a piled scream to threaten its escape.

You bit down on your tongue brutally, fingernails digging into your skin. Your pleading with your expression, peering into black eye sockets, begging for a momentary pause.

A wave of the climax is finally erupting. You could see no features, but you knew he was smirking. His cock twitches at your terrified look, aroused at the sight. He's continuous, all while he stares straight into your crying eyes.

You shook your head as if to give him some sort of hint, as if he didn't know what was happening.

He of all knew, with the feel of your tightened pussy, a quivering body, and a sobbing plead that you were about to cum all over him.

It was too late regardless, and tears were spilling down your cheeks in endless streams as you felt a third break roll in.

This was the worst of them all, and your eyes shot up to the ceiling, hardly able to see anything but black spots clouding your vision. Your pussy was twitching, your body was convulsing, and your erratic moans were muffled, stuffed impossibly tight in your hand.

Of course, your mother must’ve assumed, that it was just of your heat, and you were doing nothing but sitting and watching a harmless movie.

Some sense of stability rolled in for a small second, and with a blink to reality, you could feel his abuse at your clit never for a second pausing. You threw your head back with a small whimpering cry, clasped fingers threatening to give up.

Please, just a little bit longer. You were so close to breaking.

His cock is never ending even if your cunt is hyper sensitive after a quivering break. The shock of your sore clit managed to produce another wave of erratic pleasure through pain when he presses hard.

When you took too long to answer, a wary irritated “hello?” produced. Taking a deep inhale, you attempted to bite down through the quivering pain mixed with overriding pleasure.

He was surely determined to break you as much as possible until you couldn’t feel anything but your trembling pussy.

You mustered up every last bit of courage to restrain your cries. Your fingers curled so tight in the palms of your hands that you were sure they could've pierced the skin.

“Y-Yes Mom… I-I get it… a-are we done?” You wanted your voice to be filled with aggression, despite it being rude, but it was begging as if you were giving her a hint to what was happening.

His cock plunges deep into you again, and again, and again. And he has zero care.

You didn’t think for one second of warning her about this masked being, even if you did, that knife would probably go right to your throat before you could react. It wasn't like you could focus on anything but the feeling of being destroyed anyway.

“Yes yes, just stay safe, we’re coming home in a few hours,” you nodded heavily afraid to say a single word in case a squeal leaves.

“Hello?” She repeated, and you grunt, humming your sobbing approval until she finally clicked the end call button that you had so hoped to achieve.

Your hand didn’t even let go of the phone before the masked man let out a growl. He moved in closer, his cock plunging your numbing hole.

Whimpering and sobbing, your grabby hands stretched out to him, pleading for your arms to wrap around his form. Your pussy was still craving the moment when after he was done fucking you terribly he would cum at a hilt within your walls.

Hands grabbing at yours, he yanked your upper body up effortlessly, allowing you to wrap your shaking quivering arms around his neck. “Y-You’re cruel daddy” you voiced with a torn broken pant, weakly grasping the strange leather-like fabric of his clothes.

“You’re fucking right I am,” he responded into your ear, dark words almost sending you to heaven.

You were rocking your hips hard into him without notice, drenching the counter with your cum.

Grabbing tightly and sinking your nose into his neck, you smelled a whiff of intoxicating alpha. With instinctive need, all you wanted to do so achingly was to lick and bite down into the gland. The thought of him beginning to fuck into other omegas set a boiling envy in you. This was just as much as your alpha, as you were his omega.

Sensing this, the man whose hands were now almost half on your ass and onto your legs, dug his mask deep into the nape of your neck. “Jealous already hm?” He voiced with a taunt, ignoring your whines. His cock was getting faster, bigger, and already experiencing it the first time, you knew just was about to come.

The anticipation of his cum drenching you, set you off with moans and writhing squirms. “My little omega would want nothing more than for her daddy to cum completely inside her wouldn’t she?” His tone was lazy, sexy, and yet breathily sped up as he neared his climax.

His mask rubbed at your neck, and you cried in approval, the nickname he gave himself made you squeeze tight around him. Nodding hastily, Please claim me, you beg to rasp out, a breath stolen as he continues.

You felt it coming like a coil ready to snap. It was coming and you were extraordinarily eager. Your hold strived to get tighter on him, but it was in reality getting weaker and weaker, and when he stopped inside of you, a terrifying orgasm sped through your shaking body in hot quick seconds.

Grunting out, your nails dug deep into his clothing while your legs managed to tightly wrap around his waist. A hot dribble of cum coats your walls and almost begins to protrude from your trembling cunt.

It didn't take long for his thrusts to start again. But this time it was mild and almost sweet through your lasting climax. Heavy moans and pants poured out of your lips.

Exhaustion began to seep into your form just as rapidly as the soreness surrounding your now unclenched muscles. The commanding grip on your thighs left, and his arms wrapped around your exhausted figure tightly.

Your eyes tiredly blinked into his neck while you panted, cuddling more for warmth. The heat of yours instinctively calmed to an unexpected point. It was then you were finally beginning to notice the sweat rolling down your agonizingly hot skin. Although the knowledge of who exactly this dangerous possibly murderous alpha was is nonexistent, you were happy.

“Stay daddy.. please…” you let out a small sad whine, nestling deeper into him, licking at the fabric around his neck.

“As much as I would love to little omega, I have things to do,” he spoke as if signifying something. His hand trailed up to your neck. By now, you weren’t so sure what these “things” were, but considering your current state, it didn't worry you for a second.

Whining, a pout of dismay appeared. “Can you at least… tell me your name now?” You moved back, looking at him with blackened blown out eyes and a tired tear-stained face.

His leather-like fingers ran up your chin, to your lips, his thumb outlining your lower one. At this point, he was simply teasing and feeling how your little breaths hitched every time his thumb slipped only an inch inside your mouth. The action repeated multiple times until an inevitable groan had escaped from your lips. That sexy dark chuckle broke out, causing your pussy to shyly tighten around his still drilled-in cock.

His bloody white mask neared your features. The words of his were slow and steady, lulling you into a deep sleep, you weren’t even sure if you heard it correctly.. or at all.

Ghostface…huh?

Nodding your head softly, you hummed into him with approval, placing your head back into its comfortable position, his chest. His hand caressed your hair gently as you began to feel the darkness sweeping in.

#smut #fanfiction #dark x reader #x reader #ghostface #scream franchise #a/b/o #a/b/o au #x female reader #dbd x reader #daddy k!nk #dead by daylight #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson

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snnrinc · 2 years ago

Text

Made for Sin

Minors DNI

• Pairing: Corrupt!M!Sydney x F!Reader

• Excerpt: His eyes were now focused on you and on every expression that you were making, on the way your muscles tensed, how your chest was bouncing in time with his thrusts. His hair had started to fall onto his face and his brows were furrowed in concentration. He looked so fucking hot when he was like this, ready to devour you, watching intently as your back arched off the bed when he hit a particularly nice spot. The way the twilight sun hit your curves had him under a spell, tracing the outline of your body with his eyes before one of his hands followed the same trail, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"My love," he growled. "You have a body made for sin."

• Warnings: NSFW, overstimulation, creampie, oral (f receiving), slight dubcon. But let's be honest, this is DoL we're talking about, what ISN'T a warning?

• Word count: 5.9k

Voices rumbled amidst the large hall, an amalgam of words that fused into each other only to become meaningless, background noise. People shuffled from their seats as the service finished, approaching the exit of the hall while chatting amongst themselves, leaving only a few people to remain seated in the pews, some with their hands clasped together in silent prayer, others simply basking in the silence of the holy temple.

Seated somewhere near the front seats was a young man, fingers intertwined and pressed against his lips, eyes closed in concentration. He was thankful once the commotion died down, hoping to finally be able to focus more on his prayer, but he soon realised that his thoughts were running too wild and simple silence was not enough to bring him peace. On the contrary, the more he kept his eyes closed, the louder his mind got. The more he tried to concentrate on his prayer, the more his thoughts unconsciously morphed into the image of a beautiful person.

The image of you.

Sydney opened his eyes and sighed in frustration. He moved to rest his chin on his clasped hands, opting to distract himself for a while by looking at the various portraits of saints that were decorating the wall in front of him. The paintings were beautiful, golden hand-crafted wood framing them and giving them a regal, almost ethereal look. Normally, he would stare at such brilliance and feel peace and purity radiate from them and settling deep into his soul, soothing his pain and sorrows. But now, a simple glance left him feel cold, disinterested. Disconnected.

Was it because of you?

Was it you that took the place of the holy images, of the promises of salvation, of all-powerful idols that could tame and purge all that is wrong in the world? Was it you that settled in his heart oh-so-delicately, that now the only idol he could think could bring him peace and salvation, the only idol he could get down on his knees and worship, was you?

Was it you that overtook his mind and stripped him of any sort of dignity or shame he had left, baring all the primal instincts that had been buried so deep inside in a dark corner of his mind?

Oh, but he couldn't care less. Not when he got to be buried so deep inside of-

Sydney let out another sigh at his intrusive thought. This was getting ridiculous. You were the only thing he could think about. You and the things he would do for you, with you, to you.

He couldn't understand why you had such power over him, and frankly, he wasn't sure he needed to understand. But you existing in his life, by his side, shook him to the core in a way he did not know how to manage, his emotions swirling in his mind until he could not tell them apart from each other. He was in love, that was for sure. His heart fluttered whenever you brushed your hand against his, he melted on the spot whenever you planted a small, innocent kiss on his cheek or forehead. And seeing you smile at him, hearing you laugh at one of his jokes, sent him to cloud nine, making him feel like everything was right in the world when you were together.

But... his heart was not the only one affected. In his mind he would always envision you during these sweet moments, under him, your hand grasping his and holding onto it tight as you writhed beneath him, chanting an almost delirious chain of 'I love you, I love you, I love you', bodies tangled and so lost into each other that he didn't know where he ended and you began, as he claimed you as his beloved again, and again, and again. And you always looked so beautiful, warm, like the sun was caressing his skin with every touch of your fingers, like flower petals dragged over his most sensitive spots whenever you kissed him, like you and him were the only people to exist in the world.

He could no longer tell love and lust apart. Was this even lust? Was it adoration? Was it wrong for him to feel so strongly for you, so much so that you were more important to him than his vows?

Sydney let his hands fall into his lap, taking in a shaky breath to try to calm down his racing thoughts and pounding heart. He could feel the start of a headache pulsating painfully as he brought his fingers to his temples to massage them, allowing himself a moment of quiet before his thoughts slipped again.

Why did it even matter that his vows were broken? You did this to him. And he wouldn't have it any other way. He was happy to finally not be a sheltered, innocent little boy anymore. You showed him how beautiful sin could be, how good it could feel, but you also showed him how ugly the reality of the world was. The lives you two led were vastly different, and for a second Sydney allowed himself to shoot an angry, flaming look at the paintings in front of him, almost as if admonishing the Heavens for putting you through all the pain and suffering you had to endure. He almost couldn't believe himself, but at that moment he felt that all his prayers and desperate pleas for salvation were falling on deaf ears.

But you always heard him.

And he was glad to return the favour, always happy to let you use him when you reached your breaking point, always willing to welcome you in his arms and keep you safe, away from anything and anyone who may cause you harm. His heart was breaking every time you'd reach out with a shaky hand, your tearful eyes staring into his own, desperate, pleading, silently asking him why? Why you? Why always you?

The image made his heart clench, his eyes closing and brows furrowing before a gentle touch on his shoulder made his eyes snap open again. He looked to his side wide-eyed, almost as if he was scared he was saying his innermost thoughts out loud, but his expression quickly softened when he saw your smiling face next to him, giving him a little wave and a gentle 'hi'.

He smiled softly. "My love."

He scooted over to make space for you to sit down. Once you settled in your place, Sydney took your hand in his and kissed your cheek, smiling wide at your loving expression.

"I missed you," he said, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You giggled. "So soon? But we're already spending most of our time together at school. We see each other so often!"

"If I don't spend every moment with you, it's not nearly often enough."

You felt your cheeks warm up as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing them against your knuckles softly while staring deeply into your eyes. At the intensity of his gaze, your eyes shifted away for a split second before returning to his, earning a knowing smirk from your boyfriend. Fuelled by your reaction, he tugged your hand a bit higher so his lips had more access, leaving a trail of kisses up your forearm, his other hand gently grasping your upper arm so he could pull you closer. Just as he reached your inner elbow, he was stopped by your louder than intended exclamation:

"I brought food!"

Gasping at the realisation of your volume, you looked around to see if anyone noticed and sighed in relief when you saw the other churchgoers focused on their prayers. You looked back at Sydney who was now just affectionately rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb, looking at you with a soft expression. It was only now that he noticed you brought a bag with you.

"I brought food," you repeated, quieter this time. "I know you've been working really hard and I'm willing to bet you haven't eaten anything today."

A sheepish smile crept on his face. "Please don't be too mad at me, love."

Your shoulders slumped in disappointment and you gave him a stern look. "Sydney!" you clicked your tongue. "I told you you need to take care of yourself more! At this rate, you'll pass out in the middle of the temple at any moment."

Sydney let go of your hand and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer and burying his face into your neck. "I know, darling, I'm sorry for making you worry. I promise I'll be good and eat what you brought for me."

"Yeah right," you scoffed. "Just like you did yesterday, when you said you'd eat the homemade pie I made for you just so I could find it today, in the same place, with only one bite taken out of it?"

Sydney squeezed you a little tighter in an attempt to make you soften and stop your scolding.

"Or like on Monday, when I brought you some sandwiches and you said you'll keep them for later only to forget about them," you continued. "I found them in your drawer at the library counter. Mouldy."

You crossed your arms over your chest and moved to look at Sydney. He looked up at you with doe eyes and pouted, detaching himself from you and twiddling his fingers.

You raised an eyebrow at him, expectantly. He sighed in defeat.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, okay? Please stop looking so mad," he reached out and grasped your hand. "I promise I'll eat whatever you prepared this time. Just give me the bag and I'll-"

"Oh, no, not today," you pulled your hand out from his and stood up, gathering your stuff and the bag with Sydney's food in the process. "Today we'll eat together. It seems there's no other way to convince you to eat more than just the amount needed to stay alive than to feed you myself."

Your words stirred something in him. He looked up at you teasingly as his lips stretched into a smirk.

"Oh, so that was your plan all along, huh? Not just because you care about me?" he chuckled when you snapped your attention to him, furrowing your brows.

"Don't get cocky, love. I'm still mad at you."

With a chuckle, he stood up and grabbed your hand. He offered to carry the bag for you before leading you outside of the hall.

Your giggles resonated in the kitchen when Sydney kept tickling your shoulder with his hair as he kissed your neck.

"Stop it!" your tone meant to be serious, but you couldn't force the smile off your face. He giggled as you almost dropped the ingredients you were setting up from squirming so much. "Sydney, come on!"

"I'm sorry, I just can't resist kissing you."

As he let go of you, you turned around to smile at him sweetly. Your eyes admired his golden ones for a few moments before travelling down to his white shirt, the first three buttons open and allowing a glimpse of the chain of his holy pendant.

"You should change your shirt if you want to help," you said, turning your attention to preparing the ingredients once more. "It'll get dirty."

"Oh? Should I take it off then?"

"I'm just saying it's a nice shirt. I don't want to ruin it."

"I do," you threw him a look and he giggled. "I'll take care of laundry then. I'll give you some spare clothes."

"Oh, you don't have to, really! I'll just go home and wash them."

"Oh..."

At the sound of his disappointed tone, you looked over your shoulder to see him leaning on the table, his stance deflated. You saw his bottom lip come out slightly in a pout.

You turned towards him. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing, I was just..." he looked back at you. "I was hoping you could spend the night."

His doe eyes brought a warm smile to your face. You wiped your hands on a towel and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pecking his nose. Your actions made him smile and hug you close to him. Leaning forward, you pecked his nose again, before planting a quick kiss over his lips and moving to look at him. His expression suddenly changed, half-lidded, hazy eyes looking at you as if in a trance. You could feel it, too - the way the air around got thicker and you had to let out heavy breaths, lest you suffocate. One of his hands moved up to remove his glasses and place them somewhere on the table behind him, his other hand reaching up to rest on the side of your face, his thumb caressing your cheek before he leaned in, placing his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. You didn't hesitate to respond, pressing yourself against his body and parting your lips out of habit, demanding more of him.

He was more than happy to deliver.

Sliding his tongue past your burning lips, the hand that was caressing you moved to the back of your head, grasping your hair and pulling softly to get better access to your mouth. You moved in unison, your hands moving up and down his back before one of them settled in his hair. His other hand slid down your side to grasp your ass, earning a soft moan in return. Fuelled by the sounds you made, he pushed forward, making your back hit the edge of the counter on which you were working a few minutes ago. You felt his hands leave you for a second to find purchase on the back of your thighs, hiking you onto the counter. You suddenly remembered what you were there for.

"Mmh, Syd-" you tried to speak, but his lips wouldn't let you. "Syd, we-" kiss, "we were..." kiss, "we're supposed to-" kiss, "be cooking..." kiss.

"Later."

"No," you gently placed your hands on his chest and pushed him enough to get his attention. "You've already had nothing to eat today. You promised."

Seeing your frowning face made him detach himself from you, leaving only his hands to hold onto your thighs. You could see his apologetic expression and you didn't want him to feel bad, so instead you pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek sweetly. He took advantage of your closeness to hold onto you tight.

"Please..." he whispered against your ear. "I missed you."

His needy voice made you shudder. You'd be lying if you said that hours upon hours of gentle kisses, fleeting touches and stolen glances at each other didn't rile you up to the point that everything the man in front of you was doing or saying was sending electricity throughout your veins, right down to your core. With how desperately he was clinging to you and how fast his heart was beating, he must've been starving, the poor sweetheart, starving for your touch, your attention, for your soft voice whispering to him, for your love. He was starving for you. And how could you deny him when you were there to take care of him in the first place?

A shaky sigh found its way out of your throat when you opened your mouth to speak. "Sydney..."

"Fuck-"

Before either of you could say anything else, his lips were on you again, hands undoing your apron and pulling at your clothes, grasping and caressing any part of you that he could reach. You unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it over his shoulders, urging him to discard it to the ground as you ran your hands over his arms and chest. A moan vibrated in his throat at the feeling of your palms on his bare skin and your hot body pressed into his, the sound pouring over into you and filling your lungs until you were drowning in him. You never thought loving someone could feel this intense.

As much as you loved making out with Sydney on every surface available, you knew that sooner or later the counter would get uncomfortable, and you didn't want your time in heaven to end so soon because of such inconvenience. So you gently buried your fingers in Sydney's hair, pulling him away slightly to finally catch your breath and his attention.

"Sydney, take me to bed. Now."

Nodding quickly, the man made sure your legs were tightly locked around his waist before he grabbed your ass and lifted you from the counter, blindly walking towards his bedroom as his lips found yours again in a heated kiss. Reaching his room, Sydney turned to face the opposite way and kicked the door he left ajar fully open, walking backwards into his room to make sure it doesn't swing shut and hurt you. He had half a mind to leave the door as it is and just take you as soon as possible, but eventually made sure to close it and lock it quickly, just in case Sirris would come home early. As he took a few more hurried steps into his room, one of his arms slid up your back to rest on the nape of your neck, giving you one last kiss before carefully lowering you on the bed as if you were a treasure he was scared to break. Once you were comfortably settled, Sydney hovered over you, watching, scanning over your entire body, the way you were sprawled out on his bed, looking up at him with such lustful eyes. His scrutinising gaze made you feel as if you already were completely bare in front of him, completely at his mercy.

"Syd," under the pressure, you broke the silence, his eyes shifting to yours. His stare was intense, focused, and the corner of his lip lifted in a smirk.

"Finally, I have you all to myself," his hands found their way to your sides, rubbing up and down. "You look so good in my bed, darling."

You whined at his words and he let out a shaky breath at the sound. His hands found their way under your shirt, lifting it up to reveal your plain bra. You sat up, helping him fully remove your top and bra, leaving your upper half bare for him to see. Under his fiery gaze, you almost felt the urge to cover yourself out of embarrassment , but you had no time to even think about it before his hands were on you, pushing you back onto the bed and burying his face into your soft flesh. His mouth found one of your nipples and his tongue circled it, licking, sucking, biting as his hand was on your other breast.

With a moan, your hands found purchase in his hair and back. You could feel the hot skin of his chest pressed against your abdomen and the closeness was driving you mad. You felt his tongue give you one last lick before he moved his mouth under your breast, biting softly on the flesh and leaving a mark.

Your legs moved up, thighs pressing to the sides of his waist as he looked up at you with hungry eyes. He pressed his tongue near the top of your stomach and dragged it upwards, stopping between your breasts and watching as you bit your lip and tried not to whine at the feeling. He smiled and chuckled at the sight, leaning forward to capture your lips into a passionate kiss.

His body was pressed flush against yours, hands moving up and down your abdomen and chest, grazing your nipples and grabbing at the softness of your flesh. It was driving him wild, feeling your hot skin stuck to his, a thin layer of sweat already adorning your body. He could feel your moans vibrating against his lips and chest, and he didn't think he could get any harder, but he already felt like he would burst any second. And yet, he needed more.

One of his hands failed to return upwards as he was caressing you, instead dipping beneath the fabric of your trousers, pulling them down along with your panties in a firm and swift movement. You felt his lower half raise slightly from you, your hips following his movement to allow him to remove the garments entirely, before he threw them on the ground carelessly and grabbed hold of your thighs, spreading your legs and lowering his body on you once more. The entire time, his lips refused to leave yours, moving passionately against your mouth, pouring his love into you.

You felt his hand slowly slither lower, fingers finally touching your core, making you yelp from the sudden feeling and dig your nails into his shoulder. His fingers slowly started rubbing circles on your clit for a brief moment, before he dipped his hand lower to run them against your soaking entrance, lubricating them and slowly dragging them back up teasingly. You mewled as he started applying pressure again, his mouth moving to your neck to nip and suck on your skin. Your body felt like it caught fire as his fingers worked you up the way he knew you liked. Your breathing erratic, you let out soft moans shamelessly into his ear, and you could feel his chest reverberating against you with his own groans echoing yours. Moving his hand lower to drag it across your entire core, you let out a particularly loud moan before you pressed your mouth into his shoulder to cover up any other sounds.

He chuckled, a smile pressing against your neck. "Did you like that, darling? Hm?" you felt his teeth graze your skin softly, sending a shiver through your body. You let out a shaky curse. "Fuck, you're driving me crazy... I love hearing you moan for me like that."

You felt his fingers move once again, rubbing against your entrance as his mouth continued to kiss and suck on your skin. Sydney's mouth moved to your shoulder, then your collarbone, then slowly dipped lower towards your breasts.

"I wonder," he spoke between kisses, "what other sounds can your body make?"

You could feel his smile pressed against your skin as he pushed a finger inside, relishing in the lewd sounds of your moans and your soaking heat. Giving you a few pumps, he pushed another finger in before he started fucking you, occasionally flexing his fingers to touch your sweet spot.

You let go of your last shred of shame, moving your hips in time with his hand, chasing your release as his lips moved across your neck. Pressing your mouth on his shoulder, you started to kiss upwards towards his ear before you gently bit his earlobe and moaned at his shiver. Goosebumps spread across his skin and that was enough for him to push another finger into your heat and fuck you with renewed vigor, rubbing his thumb on your clit. You were practically dripping, and he loved the wet, sloppy sounds that your sex was making from him toying with you. He loved having such an effect on you.

With a gasp and quickly getting closer to your release, you managed to snake your hand in between your bodies and past the band of his pants to grab his length and pump it. Breathing quickened, you felt your muscles tense before the coil in your stomach snapped, your walls clenching around his fingers and your hand pulling at his soft strands of hair, the other absentmindedly rubbing the head of his cock.

"Fu-uck!" his hips sputtered and he let out a high pitch moan. "N-not yet."

As you were coming down from your high, you looked up at him with a hazy vision. He retreated his hand from your heat in favour of ridding himself of the rest of his clothes, then grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing them towards your chest, standing up so he could look at the mess he made out of you with eyes that were almost glowing.

You couldn't help but stare. The soft rays from the setting sun were hitting the side of his face and almost making him look like he was donning a halo. His eyes looked like pools of honey and his bare chest was rising up and down, glowing from the sweat beads adorning his skin. As disgusting as you would've thought it would sound - had you not been high on lust - in that moment, you felt the inherent need to have your tongue on his skin, if only to feel his pulse quicken and the shivers of his flesh in time with his moans.

When you looked back at his eyes, you could see him gaze at you with the same unbridled hunger. You felt the tip of his shaft rub against your slit and his eyes started to lose focus. Slowly, he pushed forward into your heat, eyes rolling to the back of his head as both of you let out sinful sounds from the way his sex was stretching you oh-so-deliciously.

It wasn't long before he set a steady pace, snapping his hips toward you to reach deep within your walls so you could feel him fully. Your hands grasped at whatever you could find - bedsheets, your chest, his waist, his forearms, and when you looked up at him you saw his gaze changed again.

You knew you were in trouble.

His eyes were now focused on you and on every expression that you were making, on the way your muscles tensed, how your chest was bouncing in time with his thrusts. His hair had started to fall onto his face and his brows were furrowed in concentration. He looked so fucking hot when he was like this, ready to devour you, watching intently as your back arched off the bed when he hit a particularly nice spot. The way the twilight sun hit your curves had him under a spell, tracing the outline of your body with his eyes before one of his hands followed the same trail, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"My love," he growled. "You have a body made for sin."

You moaned at his remark and he smirked, lifting one of your legs up so he could reach even deeper within you and rub continuously at the spot that was sending wave after wave of shivers down your body. And fuck- the way his abs flexed as he was pounding into you, the way his hands gripped the meat of your hips so hard it was leaving marks to help you meet his thrusts, the way his holy pendant was swinging and hitting his chest as he was fucking you relentlessly, it was overwhelming in the most carnal way and you loved it. Your eyes focused on his pendant for a second longer, a symbol of purity on a backdrop of sin, and you had no idea why it only served to turn you on more.

"So good~" you moaned as your back arched once again. " 'M close, ah! Sydney!"

"Yeah?" his voice was raspy and breathless. "You gonna cum for me, beloved? Oh, yes, please, please give yourself to me!" His thrusts started becoming hastier in an attempt to chase both of your climaxes. His voice was choked and his breathing was becoming more and more erratic, it was like music to your ears. "I want you, I love you! Cum for me, cum on my cock like the good girl that you are."

And then you felt it again, a sudden surge throughout your body as your leg that was not on his shoulder and your hands were fighting to keep him inside you. Your walls clenched around his length and he let out a choked cry, hips stumbling before you felt him fill you up with a few more deep pumps. His body fell on top of you, completely spent, and you felt his hand grasp yours and interlace your fingers.

You were suddenly overcome by a small fit of giggles and he looked up at you from your shoulder, smiling at your beaming face, your eyes closed in bliss.

"That felt good?" he asked.

"Mhmmm."

You snuggled your face in his cheek for a second, giving him sweet pecks, before he turned and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. You hummed in pleasure and let your arm fall around his neck, keeping him close to you and feeling your sore body beginning to relax.

You felt his kisses trail down the column of your neck and on your chest. When you felt him grab your thighs and parting them your eyes snapped open.

"W-wait, Sydney! What are you doing?"

He didn't answer, instead looking at your quivering core and how his cum dripped out of you, down your ass and staining the sheets beneath you. You saw his tongue dart out to wet his lips and you recognised that look.

Now you really were in trouble.

You remembered that day in the temple when he had claimed you as his lover and given himself to you in return. You remembered the ravenous look in his eyes and the smog that turned him wild with lust. This time, you were in the comfort of his bedroom, nowhere near that sacred prayer room, and yet he was gripping your flesh with the same determination and hunger as when you first defiled him.

Lowering his body on the bed, his cock brushed against your leg and you realised he was still hard. You scrambled to push yourself up into a sitting position, stuttering out useless pleads for him to let you rest a bit, one hand on his shoulder to push him away from between your legs. You felt your tired muscles shake and goosebumps overtake your skin when he looked up at you from under his lashes, a wicked smile spreading on his beautiful lips before his arms pulled your body towards him roughly, forcing you to fall back onto the bed.

"I don't think you understand, lover," he spoke, tone dangerously laced with honey. "I'm not done with you yet. And I won't be until I make sure you're thoroughly fucked into this mattress and forget how to even speak."

His arms were holding your legs locked across his shoulders, one arm spread across your stomach, effectively holding you in place and leaving no chance of escape. You tried to close your thighs on his head and pull on his hair, hoping the pressure and pain will push him away, but it only earned you a lewd moan from the man before he chuckled darkly.

"You really think that's gonna stop me?" he gave your clit a kiss and you gasped at the sensation. "No chance, lover. So go ahead, be as rough as you need to be, take anything you want from me and fucking use me."

You let out a choked moan when his tongue dragged over your overstimulated folds, his hands kneading your thighs and keeping you from pulling away. It was futile to fight it and you knew it, mind and body torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. His tongue lapping and sucking at your core had you seeing stars, his groans vibrating on your sex and before you knew it, it felt like the entire world was spinning. Your jumbled thoughts could not be put into words, and anything coming out of your mouth were either sinful moans or praise and pleads, an incoherent string of "fuck, Syd, please, 's too much!" and "there, yes, oh fuck, right there, so good!"

Sydney was just as far gone as you were, drinking in all the sounds that you were making and lapping at the mess that you both made, a sense of pride swelling in his chest knowing how he was the only one who could do this to you. The only one who could defile you and who could be defiled by you. He loved you. He needed you. He needed more.

His tongue circled your entrance a few times before plunging in you, his thumb from the hand he had spread on your stomach lowering to rub your clit and you let out a sob from the overwhelming feeling. The way his arm was holding your hips down made it impossible for you to thrash around, sweat dripping down your body and breathing laboured.

Before you knew it, you came with a shout of his name and pulled at his hair. He moaned, but refused to stop, and from the way the shivers kept cascading down your body and your muscles ached, you felt like you were about to pass out. You were now a puddle in his hands, speaking in tongues, and you had no more power in your arms to fight, only to pull at his strands mindlessly.

He reached out with his other hand, groaning like man drunk on lust, and replaced his tongue with his fingers, his mouth now on your clit as his hips snapped against the mattress searching for relief. You couldn't even tell if you just came again or if you had a prolonged orgasm, brain mush and body ablaze with heat. The world was melting and the only thing you felt was your lover leaving his mark on your body with his.

You were radiating, and he was drinking you in like you were an oasis in the middle of the desert, basking in your light, your sounds, your smell, your heat. Soon, his hips started slowing down as he spilled his load on the bedsheets, the flame within his body only now relenting and allowing him to take a deep breath and relax his tense muscles.

Using his last bits of energy, he slowly detached himself from you and pushed himself up towards you, falling into the comfort of his pillows. Sydney took a mental note to change his bedding as soon as he regained his strength, but when he glanced up at you, his brain stopped functioning again. Your eyes were closed, swollen lips parted slightly as you caught your breath, your eyelashes gently brushing against your blushing cheeks as a few strands of hair fell down your face.

He thought you looked gorgeous.

Sydney reached out, gently brushing your messy hair behind your ear before he snaked his arms around you and pulled you to his chest. He placed a kiss on the top of your head, murmuring sweet words of praise and love. His fingers started massaging your scalp and you melted in his embrace, welcoming his touch once again.

Sydney worshipped you. You were the light of his life, the idol he venerated, the only one who could put his heart in a chokehold, and with you snuggled in his arms, safe and sound, he knew what true happiness meant. True salvation, devoid of the teachings of the temple. And as he held you close to his heart, he realised something.

His God was dead. You killed Him. And with no one else left to save you two, he'd make sure you save each other.

#degrees of lewdity #sydney smut #sydney the fallen #sydney the faithful #degrees of lewdity x reader #dol x reader #sydney x reader #dol smut #dol sydney

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lovezbrownies · 11 months ago

Text

Fem! Yandere Military Chief

Hello! My third fanfic this is so exciting >0< I can't wait to write more, especially since I have even more characters in mind to write for!

MINORS DNI!!

Word count: 1,033

Warnings!: Nsfw mentions, physical abuse (towaards reader), Torture (towards reader and others), murder (not towards reader), hinted psychological abuse (towards reader), isolation of reader, death of a parent, controlling behaviour, obsessive and possessive behaviour, essentially this woman is a red flag.

Name: Gen Ludenhart.

Gen adored you, oh how she adored you. Even in an important meeting like this she can’t focus on the words being said as she fantasizes about finally coming back home to her sweet darling. You and Gen have been in a relationship for three beautifully long years. Gen, being the lovely wife she is, ensured you moved in with her within the first two months of dating and married within a year in.

The work day felt long, but the ride home felt even longer. The anticipation of finally seeing her cute spouse waiting at home for her made Gen count down the very seconds until her arrival back home. And once Gen finally enters her mansion (paid for by the noble court for her deeds.) she feels an immediate relief wash over her now, knowing she is within the vicinity of her beloved darling.

Gen is, as usual, greeted by the head maid. ‘’Call my darling down to the lounge room, will you Reina?” Reina nods, walking off to complete the task given to her. Gen goes to said lounge room, looking at herself in the mirror hanging on one of the walls, making sure she looks her best for you.

The soft clicking of shoes alerts Gen as she seats herself on her favourite armchair, waiting impatiently, staring at the entrance until you finally enter, behind you stood Reina. Gen waved a dismissal wave towards Reina as she holds out her arms, “Ah my dear, how I’ve missed you so~ Come, come, sit.’’ You knew the routine. Gen comes back home, she calls for you, you sit on her lap until she has held her pent up frustration as long as she can and takes the both of you to your private chambers for some ‘’fun time’’.

It never gets old, even when she is pleasuring you she incorporates something new in the way she gives you pleasure, always doting, always caring, always watching. You’ve tried all you could to plan some escape behind Gen’s back, she might be strategically smart but when it comes to you? She’s stupid in love, can’t even see how uncomfortable you are 85% of the time. So that would mean it would be easy to run away right?

Wrong. The only obstacle to your masterful escape was Reina. Loyal fucking Reina. It feels like she can constantly read your plan, anytime you see an opportunity such as an open window or an unlocked door to the outside and begin thinking up a plan she almost immediately cracks down on it and shuts down any chance of escape. Gen doesn’t see it but Reina is devoted solely to Gen, no one’s sure if its out of love or because Gen pays for her loyalty, whatever the case, she is annoying.

Either way, it seems like you are eternally stuck with Gen, to the end of days. Maybe that would’ve been nice, maybe her coddling you would’ve been comforting, had she not falsely accused your father of a heinous crime, ordering him to be executed. Had she not left your mother widowed, now poor and jobless, barely able to sustain herself. Had she not made everyone turn their backs on you after she had blackmailed them. Had she not kidnapped, tortured, and murdered your betrothed, your darling, your dear girlfriend. Maybe then, you would’ve reciprocated all the affection, cuddles, adoration.

Life wasn’t meant to be like this, sitting on the lap of the person who killed your father and your girlfriend and ruined your life completely. But when you don’t agree to her terms, the aggression she was trained to use on a daily basis returns home with her and she tortures you for hours on end, never relenting until you learn your lesson. Life is not perfect or sweet. Life is miserable, she is psychotic. Even the mere mention of her name strikes fear within your heart.

Anytime you see anyone from the outside world, which is almost never, you beg them to save you from the vicious claws belonging to Gen Aliya Ludenhart. The first was Reina, that resulted in a slap across the face. Gen believed that would be the only time so she didn’t want to be cruel, yet. The second was the Chief of Police, Grimm Ludenhart, now, considering he was supposed to save people from criminals, he did the opposite. He let you stay with this fucking psycho, warned her even, told her to be harsher. And she was, this time she had taken her electric baton, and fried your skin for half an hour. All the scarring had been healed and removed by sweet Gen, citing that she didn’t want her darling angel to be insecure of her scarring, and due to public image as well.

People with elemental powers usually made you star struck and jealous of their power. Some people even have two elements, and Gen seemingly is also dual-elemented. Would’ve been amazing if she was a real doting, caring, loving, not psychotic murderer. But she always uses her powers against you, she controls earth, so when you need to be punished she uses her earth magic. When the sessions of torture end she makes you feel all better with her water magic. “See, dear? I do this because I love you, if I didn’t love you I wouldn’t have healed you, no I’d leave you for dead just like that pest ex-girlfriend of yours! You should be more grateful for me, love! Or else you would’ve ended up with a psycho!” She is the damn psycho you ended up with, but okay.

All in all, you will never have a normal life again, Gen A. Ludenhart will make to sure to have complete control over every decision you make, every step you take, she will be watching you. What’s worse is that everyone is on her side, either afraid of what she would do to them if they help you, or they agree with what she’s doing– Ahem her brother Grimm Ahem– and encourage her whole-heartedly. Have fun thinking of all the people who died because you asked her for directions once in some random marketplace.

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welldonebeca · 1 year ago

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about offices and feelings (1)

Summary: When Steve is stuck in an elevator with his office crush, he is forced to face his feelings about her. Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fat!F!Reader WC: 1.6k words Warnings: Office AU. Dirty thoughts. Office crushes. Masturbation. Tension. Broken elevators. Fluff.

masterlist

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Steve Rogers was so stupid. The stupidest of stupid men to have ever been stupid.

After Pepper had insisted on him for months, Tony had a new assistant, and his secretary threatened to sue him for delegating the work to her instead of hiring someone to do it properly.

He hired you, a perfectly adequate and competent personal assistant with very good experience and a track record of being the perfect fit for the job.

The day you walked into the office of Stark Industries was the day Steve Rogers' brain quit its job and never worked properly again.

You were beautiful, as gorgeous as if you had come right out of the Renaissance art he used to study in college, but the women in the paintings didn't hold a candle to you. Their soft jaws were not as beautiful as yours and your round cheeks, their curves not nearly as tempting and mouth-watering as yours.

And it made him feel such shame with his reaction, because you were modest and very professional, and he couldn't speak a word of negativity about your behaviour while his own behaviour was terribly gross.

Every day you were polite to everyone and tidy, and Tony's life was perfectly organised again, while Steve was thrown into a mess of madness and lust.

He was crushing on you, and really - really - hard. Steve was grateful that Tony's office was on a completely different floor of the building, which meant he didn't have to see you all the time, and so he wouldn't have his productivity tanked from not being able to look away from you. He barely saw you once or twice a week.

That was why when he caught your name in his inbox, he opened your email right away, finding a reminder of a meeting that would happen later that day, about the company's near mandatory day in the city park, which you were organising in Tony's name, of course.

Steve wrapped up his work, not wanting to leave you - or the other departments - waiting much, and actually finished ten minutes before it was supposed to happen. It gave him enough time to go to the coffee machine and make you a nice mixture of a cappuccino and hot chocolate, which he knew was your soft spot and favourite drink, and put it in a tall cup before making his own coffee and carrying them to the meeting room.

You were alone, setting up the presentation for Tony when he walked into the room, so focused you didn't even notice him as he put the coffee on the table and sat down, and he had time to adjust his posture before clearing his throat.

"Mister Rogers," you gasped when you saw him, a beautiful grin coming to your lips. "Good afternoon. Always early."

"Miss Y/N," he greeted, smiling, and raising his drink for you. "I got you coffee."

"Thank you," you spoke politely, reaching for it in his hand, and your fingers brushed against him when you picked it up, warm and soft.

You were all soft.

He took in a deep breath from behind the large table, your perfume was very faint in the room, and you smelt so damn good.

Steve would have loved to focus on your face and see your reaction at realising he had made the chocolate-cappuccino mix and not just gone for the mocha button in the machine, but there was something else he couldn't look away from.

You'd gotten up, and you were wearing a pencil skirt.

Steve could see your belly, its curve in all its glory, and all he wanted was to touch you, squeeze you and...

"Is this a mocha?" you asked, snatching his attention to your face.

Steve swallowed down hard, nodding as his cheeks felt like they were set on fire.

"I thought they weren't making mochas anymore," you sounded surprised.

"I mixed it myself," he told you. "The cappuccino and then the hot chocolate, I remember you like it better that way."

You were wide-eyed for a moment, a bit shocked, and smiled.

"Thank you, Mr Rogers," you gasped.

He gulped, nodding quickly. He was so close to a fucking HR summoning.

"You are welcome, miss," he squeezed it out of himself.

And before he could put his foot in his mouth, a group entered the room, greeting you two and taking their seats, and he put himself into his work mind again, which he should have been in since the very beginning.

He did his job like a good head of his department, took notes and offered his opinions, and behaved very correctly.

He also ran away from the meeting room before anyone else and locked himself in his office and his private bathroom once he was alone.

His work day was over anyway, and if anyone asked, he was having a stomach ache.

Steve didn't even have half an ounce of shame in him as he unbuckled his pants in the bathroom stall and pulled out his cock, lust coiling in his belly like a stupid teenager who had just seen a tit for the first time.

Fuck, he would love to see your tits. They were big, enough that he knew they would spill out of his hands easily. They probably were just as soft as you, and probably smelt so good if he buried his face in them.

He wrapped his fingers around himself, closing his eyes as his cock throbbed, neglected in his strict daily routine and already half hard as he jerked himself, muffling his sounds with a hand, afraid of being caught.

It was humiliating, jerking off in the company's bathroom like that, and he couldn't even be ashamed of himself.

He caressed his head, sensitive and shining with precum. Fuck, would you like his cock?

Would you suck it?

Fuck, he throbbed with the thought of your lips around his dick, of you hungry for him to cum down your throat.

He fucked his own hand needy, uncovering his mouth to fondle his balls, trying to be quick.

If it was for him, he would be putting his cum right in your cunt. Fuck, to have you under him, with your ass up, moaning as he fucked you hard and put his cum deep, deep in your cunt.

Steve bit his lower lip, stifling a moan as his balls tightened, and aimed for the toilet as he leaned against the wall, his cum hitting the porcelain right on time as his legs trembled, and breathed through his pursed lips, letting himself go and trying to calm down.

"Damn it," he hissed.

He was so fucked.

Steve hid in his office for another hour, emailing his team and sending the meeting's notes to them, so they would all be informed, and the office was already empty when he walked off, suit over his arm and suitcase in his hand, completely relaxed knowing he wouldn't cross paths with you.

He didn't know how long hiding from you would even work. You were both adults, he was a grown man who knew he was absolutely in the wrong position, and while - so far - it wasn’t something you seemed annoyed with, he didn't know how long it would be until you picked up on it and started to get uncomfortable around him!

Steve wasn't mean, he knew you didn't owe him anything, and the last thing he wanted was for you to think he expected something in return for just being a decent human being around you.

He waved to the janitor as he walked to the lift and pressed the button, waiting for it quietly.

He was ready to go home, have a nice dinner and rest.

And then, when the door opened, he was shocked to see you.

"Mr Rogers," you greeted.

Steve was frozen for a moment, staring at you wide-eyed, and shook himself into walking into the elevator.

"Good afternoon, Miss Y/N," he greeted. "Afternoon? Evening?"

You thought for a brief moment, looking amused.

"Is it six yet?"

He looked at the buttons to see if you had pressed the button to the existing level and then checked his watch.

"Six and two minutes," he told you.

"Evening it is," you decided.

He hummed a quiet confirmation to you, watching the numbers going down.

"Long day?" you asked suddenly.

Steve turned to look at you, surprised by the tentative small talk.

"Yeah," he confirmed, a bit too honest. "Lots of work."

"Yeah," you agreed. "Lots of... stuff."

"Yeah," Steve agreed.

You two exhaled together, and the doors opened in an empty floor, closing right after.

Steve was about to ask you something - anything, whatever was enough to make you feel like he wanted to keep talking - when the metal box you two were in shook and stopped suddenly, and if he didn't reach for you quickly you would have fallen onto the floor.

His heart came to his throat when the lights became black and the elevator started free-falling, and you grabbed him, squeezing him for dear life and screaming in fear.

And then it stopped, not killing you two, but not leaving you comfortable either.

The two of you fell down on your butts, and held you as you panted and sobbed into his neck.

Steve didn't even think before wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you through the panic.

"It's okay," he rubbed your back. "It's okay, we are okay."

You pulled back, looking at his face and then around, opening and closing your mouth, all blood gone from your face as you literally shook in his arms.

"We are alright," you stuttered. "We are alright. In a broken elevator."

Shit.

He looked around, the elevator still completely dark, and reached up, pressing the red button to get security's help, knowing better than to try to get out.

You seemed to be trying to calm down as he did it, and Steve rubbed your back slowly, trying to calm you down.

"Hello?" security answered.

…

“about offices and feelings” was posted on my Patreon in June. To read it now, subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I post 6x a week.

…

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth @amythyststorm33 @shaelyn102 @yknott81 @maximofftrash @kgbrenner @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80 @mogaruke @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever @deemoriarty @05spn18 @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67 @averyrogers83 @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23 @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @tayrae515? @indecisiondecisions? @afanofmanystuffs? @patzammit? @thevanishedillusion? @widowsfics? @alexisshoto @princess-evans-addict @dreams-of-feysand @dragonqueen0606 @izbelross @isabelle-faith

#welldonebeca's about offices and feelings #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x fat!reader

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wanderer-six · 2 years ago

Text

Golden Hour (for @starrylothcat)

NSFW (MINORS DNI)

AN: This is a gift for @starrylothcat as thanks for reading over my veRY long fic for the clone fic exchange--THANK U SO MUCH AGAIN and I really hope I did this prompt justice to thank u properly ahh HUNTER IS SUCH A DOLL and indulging in island life with Hunter ohhh what a dream skldhfls PLEASE ENJOY and thank u so much again ♥♥

Relationships: Hunter x Fem Jedi!Reader

Summary: You and Hunter have always harbored feelings for one another, but the galaxy always had something more pressing for the two of you to focus on. Now that you've arrived on Pabu, it seems you finally have a chance to be honest with yourselves and share how you truly feel... nerve-wracking as that may be.

Warnings: sweet to start, leading to smut (oral m! receiving, unprotected piv sex) (@starrylothcat said "I’m ok with some smutty smut kissy kissy too" aND I HOPE THIS ISNT TOO MUCH SMUTTY SMUT KISSY KISSY slkdhflkdsh)

Word Count: 3.5k

After months of running from the Empire, after years of war, Pabu was a dream.

The setting sun painted the calm, sprawling ocean warm orange and red. Standing outside the little bungalow you’d been staying in, the breeze rolling through your hair, you felt like the star of some sappy holovid–certainly a far cry from the role of Jedi General that you used to play.

The scene reminded you of the sunset over Coruscant, memories from back in your youth when you’d actually been able to enjoy such a sight. Having the time–the freedom–to enjoy it again now… you weren’t sure how to feel.

Pabu really was a dream. But much like your fondest dreams, you struggled to grow too attached, knowing you’d inevitably wake up. You always did.

Still, it was nice to pretend, even if it couldn’t last. You had a quaint home, your beloved squad (who had found plenty to enjoy about the island, themselves)... why couldn’t you be happy, just for a little while?

“I was wondering where you’d run off to…”

A bitter smile formed on your lips. Whether he knew it or not, he was one of your lingering reservations.

Hunter ascended the stone stairway, making his way to your side and leaning against the half-wall of the balcony.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

“Seems like you already have,” you teased.

Hunter chuckled. His gaze turned out to the ocean, but yours remained on him for a moment. Though he looked perfectly at peace, you could feel a buried tension within him through the Force.

“This place sure is something, isn’t it?” he remarked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “it’s nice, finally getting a chance to relax. We all needed it.”

Hunter hummed in agreement, before falling silent. Still, he wouldn’t–or couldn’t–meet your gaze. With the way his eyes darted, and his lips pursed, you could tell he struggled with what to say next. The silence overstayed its welcome, until finally, he spoke.

“You know, being here has me… thinking about things.”

“Oh?”

You hated this game you played with one another, this dance around a truth that both of you pretended not to know. With your Force sensitivity and his heightened senses, you shared an understanding of one another that no one else could comprehend. On the battlefield, it made working in tandem a breeze. Off the battlefield–where it was just the two of you with no distractions–it made denying this thing between you nigh impossible.

You only wish one of you would be brave enough to spit it out. And though the thought gripped your heart with panic, Pabu clearly filled Hunter with courage.

“I think Shep was right,” he sighed. “If there was anywhere I’d want to lie low and settle down, this would be it.”

You nodded, your gaze falling.

“We could certainly do worse,” you noted, though your disheartened expression didn’t match your words. You knew he couldn’t stall forever. You only wish you had any idea of how you’d respond once he broached the subject.

Quiet fell over you again, the gentle island breeze deafening in comparison. You waited for Hunter to speak, not bold enough to break the silence yourself. Eventually, you heard not his voice, but a frustrated sigh.

And to your utmost surprise, his gloved hand boldly took yours.

Face burning red, you looked up at Hunter–only to find him looking back at you, brow furrowed and eyes intense. You could feel his heart racing through the Force, but he didn’t falter, braving his fears to hold your gaze. That was the man you would gladly lay down your life for.

The man you had fallen in love with.

“Listen… I know this won’t be easy to hear–it’s certainly not easy to say,” he began, straightforward and blunt now, “but… we need to talk. About us.”

Just as he promised, it wasn’t easy to hear. You pouted slightly, though you kept your eyes on his.

“What about us?” you feigned.

Hunter narrowed his gaze.

“You know what.”

Though panic tried to bubble up in your chest, Hunter’s hand squeezing yours anchored you in the moment.

“If there was ever a time for us to try being more than what we are now, this is it,” he pressed.

Despite his vote of confidence, doubts still nagged at the back of your mind. You pursed your lips, grappling with your words.

“I don’t know, Hunter…” you mumbled.

Hunter stepped closer to you. He faced you now, and you faced him in turn. Gently, he took your other hand into his grasp, keeping his eyes focused solely on you.

“Look… I know you’re scared–and believe me, I’m scared, too,” he sighed. He frowned, his eyes pleading with you as he continued. “But what scares me more is the thought of going my whole life never showing you what you really mean to me.”

Moving even closer, his lips mere inches from yours, he set a hand gently on your cheek. Despite your words of hesitation, you leaned into his touch with ease. His thumb ran along your cheekbone as he gazed upon your face with such affection and warmth.

“I’m not going to force you to do anything, but if you’re willing… I want to try,” he said. “You’re worth it. We’re worth it.”

Having heard your whole life that forming attachments would lead only to suffering, the fear that possessed you in that moment made every bit of sense. Still, you knew that Hunter was being truthful to say you were not alone in your worries. From both the clones’ training and his own reservations, the thought of forming ties with you filled him with fear, all the same. Yet, he wished to brave that fear for you. It was one of many things you loved about him–that he could look fear in the eyes and push through it without question.

And if you could brave a thousand droids to keep him safe, you could brave this unknown–especially if he braved it with you.

Swallowing your fear, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to Hunter’s as you’ve longed to for years now.

Hunter didn’t waste a moment, readily sweeping you into his arms as the kiss deepened. His hands gripped at your waist as though he feared losing hold of you somehow, but with your arms draped over his shoulders, hands tangled in his hair, you made it clear you were there to stay. On this beautiful island, with the love of your life… where else would you rather be than here?

When at last you broke away, your eyes fluttered open, relieved to see Hunter smiling back at you. He pressed his forehead to yours, and you beamed.

“Can’t say how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he grinned.

“Not as long as I have, I bet,” you teased.

Hunter dotted a small peck on your lips, before heaving a sigh–not of frustration this time, but one of content. For a moment, you simply held one another, basking in the glow of the sun and the warmth of your love. After a while, you went to speak again, but before you could, the lanterns around you flickered on, illuminating you and the rest of the island as dusk faded to night.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Hunter chuckled. “I should get going, but… I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Hunter stepped away from you, but couldn’t go much further–not when your hands took hold of his. He looked back at you with surprise, only to find you pouting… and blushing.

“I… I want you to stay,” you murmured.

Hunter’s eyes went wide, but soon enough, he found his confidence–confidence made much worse by your bashfulness. It was rare for him to have a leg up on you, and he seemed eager to enjoy it while he could.

“Well, I’d love to, but… it’s getting late–I need to get back to my bungalow,” he sighed dramatically. His grin widened as he continued. “That is… unless you think there’s somewhere else I could sleep…”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him and frowning. Your expression told him all he needed to know: stop being such a smartass and stay the night. Unable to resist you, he chuckled, drawing you closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“All right, all right; I’ll stay,” he conceded. “You won’t hear me complaining, that’s for sure…”

Smiling again, you kissed him once more, keeping his hand in yours as you led him toward the door of your place.

, , ,

When you went inside, a small feeling of comfort came over you at the sight of your little bungalow. By all accounts, it was barren, save for the furniture that Shep and the locals had been kind enough to supply you with. You’d strewn around a few knick knacks you’d picked up in your travels with the Batch, along with some decorations you’d bought on Pabu itself. But even lightly decorated, it was the closest thing to a home you’d had since the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

“Nice place,” Hunter teased, looking over the ‘nothing’ that comprised your humble residence. “Lived here long?”

As you locked the door behind you, you rolled your eyes. You turned to him with a smirk, draping your arms around his neck once more.

“Actually, I just moved in,” you answered, grin widening as his hands found your hips. “In fact, I was thinking just this morning about how it could use some breaking in…”

Hunter looked you over, his expression caught somewhere between love and lust.

“Heh… I think I could lend you a hand there,” he chuckled.

Boldly, Hunter lifted you into his arms, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he met you in another kiss–though one far hungrier than what you’d shared before. He carried you over to the bed, laying you down on the plush white covers before parting from you with a kiss on the forehead.

“Here, let me get these out of your way,” he said, getting to work removing the bulky armor pieces that he wore even over his so-called civilian attire. You watched him intently as he shuffled piece after piece onto the floor, until at last the clothes beneath were all that remained. When he reached for the bottom of his shirt and peeled it off over his shoulders, he met your gaze with a smirk.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

With a bright smile, you could only nod. You and Hunter had caught glimpses of one another in various states of undress before–living aboard a ship as cramped as the Marauder was bound to lead to that. But watching him strip fully before you–and for you, at that–thrilled you far more than an absent glance at his shirtless figure as he left the shower. No, at last, he was finally yours to see… though “seeing” was far from all you wished to do.

Now stripped to just his pants, Hunter returned to you, his lips finding yours again with ease. His body felt hot against your skin, but when his fingers trailed beneath the hem of your shirt, you shivered. You had gotten in the habit of dressing down on Pabu, enjoying the warm sun and cool breeze of island life. But while it made Hunter’s job of undressing you that much easier, it left you feeling that much more vulnerable.

Gently, Hunter worked your cropped shirt off your shoulders, his lips parting from yours as the fabric crossed between the two of you. Seeing you bare before him, Hunter’s eyes widened. A blush flooded your cheeks, and you looked away, ready to make a snarky remark about his staring. But when his hands found your chest, your words left you, replaced with a shaky whimper.

“Hunter…!” you gasped as his fingers sunk into the softness of your skin. Though rough from years of combat, his hands treated you so carefully. His caressing filled you with warmth, and you could tell he was enjoying himself just as much.

“I just can’t believe how beautiful you are,” he remarked. With a chuckle, he added, “And I can’t believe I’m finally lucky enough to tell you.”

With one parting kiss on your lips, his mouth moved down your body to lavish your breasts with attention. He latched onto one of your nipples, holding it gently between his teeth as his tongue swirled around it. You could hardly handle the sensation, short of breath with every purse of his lips against your skin, but it seemed he still had more in mind.

One of his hands trailed slowly down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. Pressing lightly, but still firmly enough to drive you crazy, he began tracing tight circles on your panties–right over the place you craved his touch the most.

“Hunter!” you gasped again. Between his mouth and his fingers, it was no wonder your face burned. “Kriff, Hunter…”

His eyes practically glowed in the low light, doing nothing to help your flustered state when they peered up at you. He plucked his lips from your chest, smirking that awful smirk as he continued teasing you with his fingers.

“You’re already soaked,” he whispered, lips pressed to your ear in a way that far from helped the matter. “I’m guessing you’ve been hoping for this as much as I have…”

While any other night you’d be content to lose yourself in this attention, he guessed correctly–you had been hoping for this as much, and as long, as he had. Which meant, unfortunately for him, that you were far from ready to give in.

Mustering up your strength, you threw your weight around him, rolling him over so that he rested beneath you, with you straddling his hips. Though his eyes went wide, you smirked down at him, running a hand through that beautiful, long hair of his.

“Where do you get off, showing me all this attention?” you purred, fingers tracing down his muscular chest.

Finding a smirk to match yours, Hunter tugged you closer by your hips. Between your legs, you could feel just how achingly hard he’d grown.

“I think you know where,” he snarked back.

Rolling your eyes, you backed off of him, pulling his pants down to his thighs as you went. When his length was finally exposed to you, you could hardly contain your excitement. You took hold of him, delighting in the way his expression turned when you began to stroke his shaft.

“Ah… just like that,” he breathed, losing himself in the rhythmic pumping you spoiled him with. Though he seemed to enjoy this plenty, you had other plans in mind.

“Hm… just like this?” you asked, your playful tone causing him to raise an eyebrow at you. Boldly, you leaned in closer to his length. “But what about this?”

Before he could speak, your lips pressed against his tip, catching his words in his throat. With a swirl of your tongue around his head, you opened your mouth, taking his cock inside and sucking on him. The precum that flowed from his length coated your tongue, and you readily coaxed more from him with every bob of your head.

Hunter’s breath hitched in his chest, and his moans only made you more eager to please him. While one of his hands gripped at the white comforter beneath him, the other tangled itself in your hair, keeping it out of your face so he could watch your lips descend on his cock over and over. Each time you’d glance at him, the hunger in his eyes made you ache between your hips.

When your lips met the base of his cock–when you felt the tip probe against your throat–Hunter gasped.

“Fuck, cyare!”

His hand tightened in your hair, pulling your mouth from his length with an unceremonious pop. When you looked up at him, you found his eyes half-lidded with lust, a red haze tinting his tanned cheeks.

“Ride me,” he begged, a rasp in his voice that sent a shiver through your body.

With a wordless nod, you straddled his hips, aching to be filled by him just as he ached to fill you. You lined him up with your opening, only hesitating when you felt his hands settle on your hips. He flashed a smile at you–one you matched with ease.

Then, carefully, you set yourself down on his length. You descended with agonizing patience, until you finally bottomed out against his hips. His cock filled you so perfectly, your walls gripping him as though you might never let him go. Not that he wanted to go anywhere–judging by the way he clung to your hips so hard you worried they might bruise, he seemed content to stay buried inside of you for the rest of time.

“Mm, Hunter…” you breathed. With your hands planted firmly on his shoulders, you started to ride him, whimpering as you moved. “I didn’t think you would feel this good.”

Through his breathless moans, he chuckled.

“You didn’t?” he teased.

You bit your lip and grinned back at him.

“Is it so hard to believe you could surpass my every fantasy, Sergeant?” you asked.

Hunter smirked. “I guess not…”

Catching you by surprise, Hunter thrusted against your hips as you rode him, nearly knocking the air out of you and filling your eyes with stars.

“But then again, I think you know better than to underestimate me.”

In no time at all, you found yourself limp against Hunter’s chest, face buried in the crook of his neck. His arms held you firmly against him by your waist as he pounded his cock into you over and over, dizzying you with delight. As he fucked you, he pressed his lips to your head, whispering sweet nothings against you between his labored moans.

You’re beautiful.

I’m all yours.

Let me take care of you, cyare.

And take care of you he did. By the time you neared your peak, you lay beneath him, your fingers raking down his toned back. The tension mounted between your hips with every thrust, made worse with his thumb drawing rhythmic circles on your clit.

“Hunter,” you moaned between languid kisses on his neck, “I’m close…”

“Me, too,” he sighed. “Where do you want me, love?”

You gazed intently into his eyes, your forehead on his.

“Inside,” you whispered without a moment’s thought.

With a nod, Hunter’s lips met yours, and he buried himself in you over and over until you could scarcely handle it. Breathless, your chest seized. You grasped onto him, nails digging into his skin as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Waves of ecstasy rippled through your core, your cunt fluttering around Hunter’s cock in such a way that fulfilling your desire was all but an inevitability for him. He filled you with his cum, your name parting from his lips as he met his end.

For all the battles you had endured at his side, you had never once seen Hunter this breathless. He trembled, held up by just his forearms, looking into your eyes with all the love in the galaxy. Only once he’d met you in one last loving kiss did he pull out of you, collapsing at your side and drawing you into his embrace.

The two of you shared in silence once again–though this time, not one filled by an unspoken tension between you. Instead, it was one of understanding, of comfort. A silence shared between two souls who understood one another, finally laid bare after hiding for so long.

Eventually, you smiled, giggling quietly–much to Hunter’s amusement.

“What’s so funny?” he smirked, squeezing your hips playfully.

Looking up at him with bright eyes, you bumped your nose against his.

“Nothing. I just… can’t believe it took us this long,” you confessed.

Hunter chuckled. “Believe me: if I’d known you would react like that, I would’ve worked up the courage to say something a long time ago…”

Rolling your eyes, you draped your arms over Hunter’s shoulders, luring him in for another soft, sweet kiss.

“Well… I’m just happy we’re trying now,” you sighed.

Though you had more to say, a quiet yawn interrupted your thoughts. Hunter helped you beneath the covers, plenty worn out himself. By now, night had fully fallen over Pabu, and the quiet back-and-forth of the tide beckoned both of you to rest.

“I’m happy, too,” Hunter said, voice hushed as his fingers worked soothingly through your hair. “Even if it’s hard to admit… I think we both deserve it.”

With a warm smile, you nestled against Hunter’s chest, adoring the way his body kept you warm and protected from the night air.

“I do, too…” you mumbled, fading fast now. “Good night, Hunter… sweet dreams.”

Hunter smiled, closing his eyes with his lips pressed against your head.

“Yeah… sweet dreams,” he whispered.

AN: Thank you for reading!! I feel like this fic got away from me LOL but nonetheless I hope you enjoyed we love soft Hunter mwah mwah!~~✨✨

#tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #hunter x reader #hunter tbb #tbb hunter x reader #Hunter/Reader #reader insert #reader #W6Fic

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