#something is irking me about the way it’s shot

[savi-our]

Anti-harem OP Mage MC pt. 4.

☕I'm back! And I come bearing gifts!!! Hurray for pt 4 - sorry it's taken me so long. Now I also have to apologize for how one-shot like this is, but considering this idea has been running away with me for the past 3 parts already i decided to throw caution to the wind and make it even more personal - sorry not sorry lol? In any case I hope you enjoy, at this point this is viable to turn into a 10 pt. series so we're just taking it as it comes lmao.☕

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warning! Includes mentions of injury, blood and attempted murder!

It was a good two weeks since your relocation back at the headquarters and the days had been moving forward with a practiced ease. Your old routines kept you busy, and the daily life was simple, even as an active mage.

The business with your sudden mission in Mtt. Ebbott had produced exemplary results and all was moving along as planned. The rebuffed monster population had regained mastery over their magic, and had since been moved up on the long queue of the integration processes. 

Your excellent handling of the issue won you praise, both from Monster officials as well as the Archmage and so you had been stationed back at your post, with talks of a bonus to keep you well motivated. Your return home however - was slightly more bumpy than you had expected.

Apparently your quick departure was well noticed, and news of your return had spawned two skeletons straight at your doorstep before you could even take off your coat.

Black had barged in, a mixed flurry of emotions on his face as his eyes widened at the sight of you frozen at your desk, blinking up at him in surprise at his unexpected visit. He approached you with wide steps, an irked tinge to his eyelights as you stared at him in confusion.

“YOU'RE BACK.” He stated, and you nodded, slowly, confused by his sudden appearance in your office.

“WHERE WERE YOU?” He had asked, crossing his arms across his chest and tapping his foot against the floorboards - whether it was out of anxiety or irritation you couldn't quite tell.

“Work.” You answered simply, sitting down in your desk chair with a low exhale, tired from the journey and the many sleepless nights spent tying up loose ends back Underground.

“YOU DIDN'T SAY YOU WERE LEAVING.” Black continued, staring down at you across your desk and you rose a brow at him. You didn't exactly owe him an explanation, or even a goodbye - if anything it was the other way around. The brothers answered to you whilst they were here, you were responsible for everyone on base - so the line of questioning was odd. 

Before you could rightly respond, a tall frame slinked in through your doorway. Mutt - distracted by the phone in his hand, reading something with a pinpoint focus before his gaze lifted and landed straight on yours. His expression shifted almost instantaneously, eyes widening and his slight scowl lifted.

“yer back.” He noted and you huffed, amused by the similar reactions of the two brothers.

“Yes, I’m back. Did you two need something?” You asked, turning the question to both of them as you shifted through the many folders on your desk - more work piled up in your absence, all of the documents that your replacement didn't have enough clearance to take care of or so it seemed.

“are ya hurt?” Mutt approached closer and the question had pulled you out of your organization, staring at him blankly - confusion in your eyes.

“No? Why?”

Black’s gaze darkened, and all of a sudden he walked around your desk, standing close to your side, eyelights scanning over you with a familiar scrutiny as you blinked up at him, confused.

“PARDON ME.” Black excused, but before you could even ask what about he took your wrists in his gloved hands and pulled you up on your feet. You stared at him as he held your arms to your sides, examining you closely as he scanned his gaze down your form.

“What… are you doing?” You had asked, and Black's eyes narrowed. He turned you around, your back to his front and continued his examination, you turned a questioning look towards the taller of the brothers, asking for some sort of explanation.

“you… disappeared, nobody could tell us where ya went, so…” Mutt huffed, face turned to the side - a dark look to his eyes. All of a sudden the pieces seemed to click.

“Ah, you thought I was-...” Dead, or hurt, but the words didn’t cross your lips, based on the tightening grip on your arms and the scrunch in Mutts brow bone, you didn't need to. It wouldn't be odd, considering the dangers of your profession - many of your friends had gone out on a mission only to never return - it was… the unfortunate reality of your job.

You realized then that they had been worried. You had been gone for weeks and with nobody on base knowing or being allowed to tell them your business, you understood how they might have come to that conclusion. 

It was… heartwarming, in a weird amusing way. Not many people worried about you, as capable as you were - many took the question of your safety in a humorful and unserious way. Not without reason - but the fact that they seriously considered your safety was… well, nice.

You huffed, eyebrows raising as a bemused smile crossed your lips. You pulled Black’s hands away from you and turned to him, a warm look in your eye as you looked him over - stiff and expression mixed, gaze avoiding yours as he cast it away and to the side. 

“I'm okay, I swear it.” Your words were simple as you laid a warm hand on his shoulder in reassurance. It made him turn to you, a hint of something vulnerable hidden deep within his eyes. He lifted a hand hesitantly towards the one you had laid on his shoulder, his fingers wrapping around it, a single squeeze that prolonged the contact before he gently pulled both of them away.

“YES, WELL, GOOD.” He cleared his throat, straightening and pulling both of his hands behind his back. You could have sworn you saw the light hint of a magical glow on his cheeks, but your attention was soon pulled elsewhere as Mutt leaned against your office desk, placing his weight on it in a halfway sit.

You had to wonder since when had both of these skeletons grown so comfortable around you, you didn't remember them being quite as… bold before your departure.

“so, where were ya?” Mutt asked, a level and unreadable look to his eyes as you raised your brow. Seems like ‘work’ wasn't a good enough explanation for either of them.

You sighed, sitting back down in your chair, an amused glint to your eyes as you explained.

You told them what you could - without giving away any sensitive information that is -  and it seemed to placate the two brothers, albeit slightly. Their curiosity was invasive at worst, but they understood why you were being as vague as you were - your job permitted very little leeway in terms of classified official business, and seeing as both of you came from differing branches there was very little you could share - even if it was technically Underground business.

The days flew by without issue after that, same old routines, same old grievances, same old dealings with pompous and self centered officials. The only difference was that you were beginning to find yourself in skeleton company far more often than before. 

Black had started visiting you during daylight hours, small meetings whenever the two of you had a moment of free time. He often brought coffee with him, something you were grateful for considering the long hours you were once again spending filing away the mountain of paperwork that had collected on your desk. You spent many a coffee break together, talking about the goings on across headquarters, and you began to notice how whenever you had to pop out for an emergency mission outside of protected territory, Black always seemed to find himself in your office, looking you over and scanning you for injuries - always denying his apparent worry under the pretense of official business. 

Mutt also seemed to visit you more often, but now instead of just staring at you he chose to start up conversation - and your opinion of him quickly changed. At first glance he seemed to be quiet and reserved, if not a bit apathetic to all of the goings on at base - whereas now that he had begun to look for conversation, you found him to be a lot more bold. He was filled to the brim with quick witted and teasing commentary, often messing with your colleagues and giving them more work to do. You would have reprimanded him - but considering he ever really messed with people you were on poor terms with - you let him get away with it. Every now and again he threw a pick up line your way, and you rolled your eyes whenever he had, knowing he was trying to charm his way out of trouble.

It was something to get used to, you weren't known for socializing during work hours, especially considering your reputation - many of your relationships were purely business oriented and whatever friends you had kept from your lesser known early days were busy with their own dealings.

Being a mage meant keeping up your guard, almost constantly. You never knew which sunrise would be your last, which shared meal would mark your last peaceful memory. It was a solitary life, a life which made you keep any close relations at an arm's length. All mages knew this, all mages knew what it meant to sign yourself over to the exalted and prominent Mage Circle. Many mages only formed relationships through arranged contracts - whether it be marriage or even companionships of a platonic nature, it was almost always connections bred out of mutual benefit rather than any emotional reasons.

You knew better than most what it was like, losing connections to the awful consequences of your profession. Whether it was the recruits back from your schooling days, or veteran combat mages you had met over the course of your career. It was a sad and tragic reality, one that kept many a mage awake during moonless nights.

It was the morning after one such sleepless night that you were notified of a fresh yet familiar face come to visit your office due to a scheduled meeting. A well known surgeon, one you had grown acquainted with during your time researching the monster population underground. You had asked him here for a personal request, one you had finally taken the time to get sorted even with all the work that currently sat idle on your desk.

You spoke to him at length about a procedure, one you had extensively researched and discussed with the more well known healers at headquarters. A spine realignment, a jaw restructure, a rehabilitation process. The meeting took you the better part of the morning to get through, and as the surgeon left, promising results, you had sighed, looking idly over the disorganized state of your desk.

It was a month longer before you finally saw the results of your efforts, sitting at your desk, idly sipping on a cold cup of coffee Black had left on your desk a few hours prior when a knock rang through the large wooden door of your office.

“Excuse me, there is someone here about a job application? Shall I send them away?” A known guard spoke through the door and a smile pulled on your face.

“No, let them in.” You spoke calmly, slowly pulling yourself up on your feet and moving to lean against the front of your desk, waiting for the new recruit to make their appearance.

The door opened with a slow creak, and you were once again met with a pale white face blinking over at you, his tall form straightening in recognition as his grin strained with the force of his smile.

“Long time no see Twilight.” You smiled over at him and he called your name before quickly closing the door and waltzing his way over to you. You had only half a second to brace yourself before his long arms pulled around you and he lifted you off the ground in a sweeping hug.

“YOU’RE THE HIGH MAGE?!” He spoke in a loud bafflement, and you chuckled as he placed you on your feet, his hands landing on your shoulders as he looked down at you.

He was even taller now, or so it seemed - the change in his appearance was as different as night and day. His teeth were straighter now, filed down and less discolored than before, a straight line of braces fastened and fixing his smile in a straight line. A pair of glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, a magical film across the rims that kept them sitting prim and proper on his face. 

He looked good, healthy, the sight had made a weight lift off of your shoulders and a satisfied hum leave your lips.

“Careful, should you be lifting things this early?”

“NONSENSE, YOU'RE AS LIGHT AS A FEATHER!” Twilight enthused, a sparkled enthusiasm to his expression that made you chuckle. You highly doubted that, but you could hardly refuse his affectionate greeting after all of this time.

You took a while to reconnect, to ask him about his surgery, about his brother and about his continued integration process. He seemed in good spirits, and asked you about half a dozen questions about your profession and about why you had lied when you had come to the underground - all of which you answered.

It was about an hour later when the conversation slowed and you noticed Twilight's body language switch into anxiety.

“What's wrong?” You asked, head tilting in worry as you faced the tall skeleton, watching as his gaze flew about the room before it settled on you.

“I…I HEARD IT WAS YOU? THE ONE WHO SUGGESTED THE PROCEDURES.”

You shrugged, turning to take a seat behind your desk, looking up at the tall skeleton with a level gaze. “All I did was share some knowledge and hand out some phone numbers. It was nothing.”

Twilight's grin twitched, his hands folded together. You noticed the strained look to his eyes, the wet droplets of pooling magic hidden in the corners.

“...Thank You, I-... I Don't Know How To Repay You….” His voice was soft if not almost hoarse and a moment of silence passed between you. You leaned in, offering him a soft look, not minding the way his hand lifted to wipe at his eyes.

“You're welcome.” You nodded at him, offering a smile. He returned it with a shaky one of his own, and you shared a long look. 

It was a moment before you broke the silence, clearing your throat and sliding a sheet of paper across your desk and pointing it his way.

“As for a way to repay me… Think you’re feeling well enough to work?” You asked, a coy smile softly gracing your expression and as you watched Twilights expression brighten, it was all the answer you needed.

It wasn't long before Twilight started working as your personal assistant - a position left unoccupied for entirely too long, you had realized that fact after spending time in the Underground. It was such a simple thing, but the way it affected your work was massive.

Twilight was a big help, even with the fact that you ever really allowed him to handle light organizational and scheduling tasks whilst healing - you wouldn't put his health at risk over some old, dusty paperwork after all. Working with him was easy, both of you slid into the practiced routine you had developed back at your previous assignment, he handled most of the little things and helped you prioritize your chaotic schedule. What's more is the fact that along with Twilight, you had sneaked in an extra visitor pass as part of his sign-on bonus.

Dusk had been slightly bewildered the first time he had visited your office, his silence daunting even as you threw your greetings at him. He had just stood there, as if trying to remember something just barely out of reach before Twilight had snapped him out of it.

It took a while for him to place you, place the environment, but as you recited one of his cannibalistic puns that he had told you one early morning back at your previous post, his grin shifted and turned wide - his red eyelight dilated as his shoulders relaxed in recognition.

“cupcake.” He drawled out and the word had made you blink up at him in confusion, cupcake?

“BROTHER! USING PET NAMES IN THE OFFICE IS HIGHLY UNPROFESSIONAL!”

“Pet names?”

Was Dusk giving you a pet name? You turned to him, brow raised, a humor filled smile on your face. The giant shrugged, slow, his one big eye watching you with a relaxed familiarity.

“makes it easier… to remember.” He explained in a low rumble. You found it a bit odd, but who were you to judge? Considering how difficult it was for him to remember things - not to mention people - in general, it was flattering to even know that he had made the attempt at recalling you.

“Huh… alright then.” 

Cupcake it was.

Weeks flew by, your new assistant proving his worth many times over as your work intensified, a consequence to the many new monsters filing into temporary housing after your job well done in the Underground. Dusk visited often, mainly during mealtimes to bring both you and his brother food. You had told him that it was alright, that you would make sure to take care of yourself, but he hardly listened - it seemed he gained some sort of enjoyment from it - almost as if finding an old routine and restarting it all over again.

The only issue with your newfound visitors was that your old ones seemed to take issues with them. The first time Black had walked in on the three of you sharing a meal had been messy. He had questioned them, a loud and baffled screech to his tone as he looked for answers to either of them being here - Twilight answered many of them, only to be interrupted by the low growl of his brother by the sudden appearance of Mutt. The skeleton had teleported straight into Dusk's lap, and leaped right out of it in a defensive frenzy as he threw an accusing finger their way.

It had turned into an interrogation, one which you somehow managed to placate and bring to a close, a whining headache growing in your temple from the whole interaction.

Unfortunately their relationship remained strained, they often clashed, throwing each other heated glares and unsatisfied growls whenever they all came to be together in your office. You had tried to resolve it, tried to question both sides what the apparent cause for either of their aggression was, but none of them gave you a straight answer.

It was after one of such fights - concerning who was allowed to go with you to dinner of all things - that you were making your way back to the office. A distracting migraine in your temple and a flurry of thoughts in your mind as you opened the door.

It was three steps into the office when the world spun out on you. 

You fell to your knees, hand clutching your mouth and nose, a sharp, piercing pain in your lungs. 

You had moved it away, a pool of blood dripping through your fingers.

Your vision fell dark, a cold grip on your insides, and the last thing you remembered was the door opening and several panicked shouts of your name.

You had woken up days later, exhausted, confused and in pain. You had been taken to a hospital, the intensive care unit - bed surrounded by several worried eyelights. 

Words of worry, of regret and of anger all muddled in your mind, you could barely make them out in the haze, and as the nurses came in, an accompanying official mage came in with them.

He explained the situation, as well as offered you his condolences.

A tasteless, scentless, airborne poison had been placed in your office, invisible to the naked eye and deadly to all of those who needed to breathe to survive.

It was deemed as an attempt on your life.

The base had flown into an uproar - the political implications of such an assassination attempt were dire, and many an investigation was done all across the premises to determine a possible suspect or suspects - alas, the guilty party had been careful and had left no traces behind.

The situation set alight emotions in you which you would rather not name, thankfully you were spared from death - only due to the fact that you had taken to developing a resistance to poisoning early on in your growth to power. Many did not appreciate a young and solitary mage rising to power, many had shown their disapproval by sending mercenaries and assassins your way. It hadn't been your first time dealing with such things, so pinpointing a possible killer was difficult. There were too many that wished you dead, too many lusting after your seat by the Arch-mage's side.

Unfortunately your resistance to poisons had also been not enough to completely stop it from affecting you. You had lost feeling in all of your extremities - an impossibly numb and heavy feeling that cost you the use of your limbs. 

The healers assured you that they could fix it, that it was only temporary, but it would take time to reach a complete revival of your senses.

You were bedridden, and therefore forced to take medical leave from your post. 

Surrounded by worried colleagues and more than angered skeletons, you assured them of your mental wellbeing - this wasn't your first time dealing with grave injuries, keeping a calm mind was the first step in recovery. You told them simply that there was little you could do but trust that those who worked under you would take care of it. You asked them to keep vigilant, cautioned them about digging too deep into things. The people who would target a high mage were bound to be dangerous, you didn't want to place their lives at risk on account of vengeance.

It was the day after your issued leave that you found yourself at home, a hired nurse in your kitchen preparing you dinner when you noticed something out of place.

An unassuming letter, dyed black, a pure red wax seal keeping it closed and laying on your nightstand. 

You recognized the mark laid on it, and a severe look crossed your eyes. 

It seems you had an old acquaintance to visit.

[gladiatorcunt]

watching merlin and eating junk food

[ldrfanatic]

and now i'm covered in you

theodore nott x fem!hufflepuff!reader

"You know, you can stay if you want to." + "I think I'm in trouble." + "Damned if I do, damned if I don't."

synopsis - theo finds himself crushing on hogwarts' resident ball of sunshine hufflepuff but tries to force himself to stay away.

don't question the mechanics, go with it. do we want more down bad theo?

warnings - cursing, over-used amortentia love confession trope, theo is treacherously in love

slytherin boys works

"hnnnnggghhh."

mattheo looked up from doodling in the margins of the potions assignment he'd begrudgingly been blackmailed into working on by theo. said boy had his chin perked up onto his hand and was staring across the library at y/n, hogwarts' resident happy huffle.

in all honesty, theo didn't really give two shits if mattheo did his homework or not. he just needed someone to come with him to spy on you during your weekly wednesday study session. and while mattheo seemed like the last person who'd ever be in a library (all too true assumption), he was the only slytherin that theo had any blackmail material on.

so the pair of them sat at a table in the far corner, secluded in darkness that made it relatively difficult to pick them out from the leatherbound books of the ancient history section. theo had a clear view of you, but you'd have to strain your eyes to see him, which is what made this the perfect hiding spot.

theo let out another sigh, this one so dramatic that mattheo had begun to worry that his friend's testicles had simply fallen off.

"what the hell, man?"

"look at her."

mattheo's eyebrows immediately drew together in a look that was nothing short of incredulous.

"are you obsessing over that little puff in the corner?"

theo's hand shot up to grab the other boys' hand which was gestured lazily in the direction towards your figure. you were huddled up in a tutoring session with a pair of firsties in catty-corner to them. while theo was most certain you couldn't see him, he still didn't want to chance this buffoon giving him away.

the smile you gave them was so bright that theo found himself wishing that you were even slightly aware of his existence so that maybe, you might smile at him that way. his thoughts began to wander as he thought of all of the ways that he wanted you to smile at him. a large portion of them were decidedly not friend-like.

lost in his thoughts, theo hadn't caught your approach until you stood in front of them in your bright white sneakers. though they were a little beat up from your regular trips to the gardens, theo found them undeniably adorable. maybe because they had cute little yellow flowers embroidered on the sides of the heels. or maybe he just loved them because he loved you.

"hi matty!"

the moment the endearment was out of your mouth, theo's lovesick stare turned into a glare. he had no idea that you were even acquainted with mattheo, let alone that you had a nickname for him.

"hey there, y/n." mattheo, the cocky bastard, had a shit eating grin on his face that told theo that he knew exactly why your sudden arrival had irked him. "have you met theodore yet?"

your face twisted a little and a redness crept up your neck, settling on your cheeks. you muttered a quick no, clearly embarrassed about something.

"hi theodore. i'm y/n." you extended your hand towards him and theo was certain he'd explode if he didn't get the chance to touch your skin. so, with more eagerness than was probably necessary, theo took your small hand in his own.

now would've been the perfect time to do something flirty like compliment you or press a gentle kiss to your fingers. but when theo opened his mouth, something else entirely came out.

"don't call me that."

your face fell and you snatched your hand back to pull nervously along the ends of your hair. shit, shit, shit. that came out completely wrong.

don't call me that?? what kind of asshole said stuff like that to a girl he liked? honestly, you could call him whatever you want so long as you said it in that sweet voice of yours.

"oh. sorry."

"i just mean-- theo. i'm theo... to you..." theo's tongue felt too large for his mouth as he stumbled to get his thoughts to come out of his stupid mouth correctly. "you can call me theo. if you want."

mattheo was trying, and failing, to hide his snicker as he watched his best friend make a complete fool of himself. it wasn't very often that theodore the womanizer became so flustered for a piece of ass. of course, that was the catalyst here. you were clearly far more to theodore than just another piece of ass. that much was abundantly clear to mattheo based just off this interaction alone.

"well, good night, matty... and theo." you said his name hesitantly, almost as if you were worried the boy might spaz out again. with another breathtaking smile, you turned on your back heel and fluttered out of the library.

only after he watched the heavy oak doors close behind you did theo finally allow his head to thud against the desk.

mattheo had given up on hiding his laughter and was inches away from crying actual tears of amusement. he caught his breath momentarily, if only to mock theo's earlier fumble.

"don't call me that?" another fit of giggles stopped him mid-thought. "merlin, theodore, do you like this girl or not?"

theo waved his arms out in front of him in a gesture that was surely meant to be interpreted as "clearly i fucking do". mattheo was inclined to agree with the sentiment. he was most certainly down bad for this little hufflepuff.

"don't worry theo, daphne and i will help you out."

theo really should've known better than to accept help from his crazy best friend, and, if possible, his crazier girlfriend. but after what could only be described as a pathetic first meeting, he would try anything.

"fine."

"oh, c'mon y/n!"

you were uncharacteristically unamused by daphne's antics at the moment. you weren't really sure what she was playing at, but you did know for certain that her plan would land you an awful potions grade.

professor slughorn had been gracious enough to allow you to choose your own partners for today's assignment. the catch was that you weren't sure what you'd be brewing until after you were paired up. this shouldn't have been too much of a problem except, you were abysmal at potions.

daphne had insisted on being your partner, which you didn't understand the benefit of since your friend was equally as awful as you were. "daph, if we partner together, we'll fail."

daphne faced you with a pleading puppy-eyed look that you hadn't known any slytherin capable of producing.

"please. you're my only option to not get stuck with enzo."

as if on cue, the dark haired boy's robes caught on fire as he attempted to light the flame under his cauldron a few stations back. a rather girly yelp left him as he shoved his robe off and onto the floor before stomping on it a few good times to suffocate the fire.

you winced in sympathy towards daphne, still silently scanning the room to see who else might rescue you from a failing grade.

hermione would normally be your first choice, but draco had unfortunately decided not to skip today and snagged his girlfriend before anyone else could. you noticed theo sat next to a grinning mattheo two rows behind you.

you'd only just met the boy yesterday, but you could tell by the disbelieving frown on his face that he was unhappy with his partner. theo was amazing at potions and you were certain he normally paired with blaise, who was the most semi-competent slytherin of the lot when it came to potions. but for some reason, blaise was paired with pansy today. neither of them looked upset by the arrangement, so you tried to put it out of your head and focus on your own situation.

which brought you back to now. the amortentia that you were supposed to be brewing was notably lacking in both luster and pink-ness. it smelled like moldy old socks, which you knew by the mouthwatering aroma in the air that it was not supposed to smell like that.

after nearly 45 minutes of torture, slughorn finally called an end to the brewing and made his rounds about the room. surprisingly, only three potions were made correctly.

hermione's, which you knew would happen after you saw her smacking draco away from the ingredients and cauldron the whole time. pansy and blaise, who despite having succeeded, looked thoroughly worn out from the endeavor. and theo's. it was more shocking than anything that he'd managed to accomplish anything with mattheo as his partner.

"wonderful, class! now, i want everyone to gather around one of the three successful cauldrons around the room. go on." slughorn waited patiently until the class had split itself somewhat evenly into three groups all huddled around each workstation. theo was the closest to you, so you and daphne joined their group.

"now, with your classmates, take turns and tell each other what you smell."

unsurprised when daphne and mattheo smelled each other, you leaned forward hesitantly for your turn. you didn't really know what you'd smell. on your first whiff, two smells in particular hit you hard. "i smell books and wildflowers. and... something else. something... fainter."

slughorn leaned into your small group with a delighted smile. "amazing, miss y/l/n. it's common to smell faint hints of something in amortentia when either the brewer has not acknowlegded a love of something or when a love for that thins is still developing. go on. tell us what it is my dear girl."

"i think it's... fresh cut grass? i can't place where from, though."

"that's alright."

slughorn slinked away without any further explanation. two girls you didn't recognize went next, not at all caught off guard by their smells. then, it was theo's turn and you found yourself more interested in what he smelled than you cared to admit out loud.

"i smell my nonna's fettucine, the grass on the quidditch field, and... some kind of flower."

always quick on the upswing, your face reddened as you realized that the grass you caught wind of earlier was in fact, quidditch field grass. and based off the knowing smirk from mattheo paired with his not so subtle glances between you a theodore, you smelled each other.

the class dispersed shortly afterward, thankfully with no new revelations for your already flimsy love-life.

what you hadn't expected, was for theo to be waiting for you outside the classroom door.

"oh, hi theo. i thought you might've left already."

"i tried. but mattheo threatened to die my hair green, so."

you tried not to be disappointed that he hadn't wanted to stay and talk to you. a long huff from theo had you looking up from the stonework of the floor.

he said something to himself under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "merlin i'm awful at this". before you could ask him to clarify, he'd taken your hand in his and brought it up to his mouth for a soft kiss.

"let me start over. hi, i'm theodore and i've been unashamedly in love with you for the past forever. join me in hogsmeade this weekend?"

[wonryllis]

INTERRUPTING THEM WITH A KISS ✶ 𝒽𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇 & 𝒷𝖺𝖼𝗄

﹙ ⌕ ﹚ 𝓅𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗌 ㅤ𝑜𝑓. enhypen melting into you like it's a habit. contains fem!r, fluff, lots of kissing, pg 15. wc 1657, approximately 0.24k each. check out the d𝒾rectory? stat requested.

──────𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

lee heeseung swears he's never found anyone or as a matter of fact, anything as annoying as you. you're like a roach up his ass, the bane of his existence. yet when he looks at your cherry stained lips as you crash into him outside the club— he can't deny: that the idea of them against his own doesn't seem half as bad. probably the alcohol, heeseung convinces himself.

"if you don't get off and at least a hundred feet away from me right now, i swea—" and your lips crash into his. intentionally, to get under his skin? accidentally, because of the shots? who cares! heeseung can literally feel the breath leave his lungs as you move your lips against his.

but you pull away before he can do anything,"shut up jer—" and it irks him for some god forbid reason, alcohol again? oh fuck the alcohol! imma kiss that attitude outta her. not even a fraction of second passes before heeseung is grabbing your jaw and pulling you back into a kiss.

you want to breathe? forget it. lee heeseung is not having it anymore. a chance to put you in your place, he's not letting it slip through his fingers. he does not want to.

"you shut up." the tendencies of an enemy with his deepest desires unknown to him; kissable lips on an enemy is the most sinful and irresistible thing ever. probably why you annoyed him.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

jay's thighs feel warm against your own as you sit still on his lap, his legs shaking subtly while he rambles about some clothes. the tiny smear of vanilla ice cream near the corner of his lower lip, bothering you more and more with the seconds ticking by.

"and then i had to get the pants exchang—" you don't even realize it yourself when you lean in to capture his lips and lick at the sweetness. his own words dying down as he stares down at your face, completely dumbstruck. come on, that's your girlfriend idiot! kiss back! it's probably the twelfth time you both have kissed since you got together three months ago; it's not like he's keeping track of the kisses but... yeah you make him too nervous so, he is.

"b-baby..?" your hands cup his cheeks and he shuts down again. ears burning hot, and lips parted to let you do what you want. if there's one thing jay can't help, it's letting you have your way. whenever, wherever.

it takes him approximately ten seconds to overcome that nervousness and respond to the kiss. mouth closing in on your chocolate flavored lips in a soft and gentle smooch. after smooch. after smooch. the tendencies of a new boyfriend still reeling in; having the girlfriend of your dreams is not something you can get used to just like that.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

jake has been hanging out and around you for months now. it should have gotten easier by this time, he thinks. but no, every look, every conversation, every subtle touch feels like it burns hotter than the last time. are these the side effects of a crush? of getting closer to them? or of behaving normally after accidentally pecking? jake checks all the boxes.

"yeah so it's supposed to go like this. did you get i—" jake looks up from the project files on the desk, his voice and his life dropping down to his ass at the touch of your lips on his. what the hell is happening? are you actually? is he dreaming? jake cannot decide on what he should think. kiss back obviously! what's more to think?!

the kiss is short and sweet, and it doesn't satisfy him. hand immediately grabbing your throat to keep you from pulling away as he begins responding to the kiss. lips engulfing yours in a deeper and longer one, like it's the nth time you are kissing. like he's so used to it, like he's addicted?

“what— what was that?” jake pants out, somehow managing to pull away. his demeanor shifting drastically from the one that had just possessed him. the tendencies of a crush finally getting a taste; once you get hooked, there's no going back. not after a kiss uncalled for like that.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

he has slept once with you, just once sunghoon reminds himself— grounds himself; for he feels way too obsessed with the thought of you for having only had you once in that way. is it normal? probably not. will he do something about it? probably not.

so he acts like normal, tries to. his hands in his pockets as he walks with you to his car, head hanging low even though his eyes keep stealing glances at you while he tells you about his upcoming tournaments. stopping to open the passenger seat door for you, still speaking of his fears of lack of perfectionism.

"there's still parts i need to work extra o—" but instead of getting right in, you get onto your tiptoes and pull him by his collar into a kiss. if a body can function with a disjointed heart, sunghoon swears it's him.

his heart skipping beats in a row and all of a sudden feeling like it's stopped entirely. yet his hands and lips move without a second thought, without waiting for even a millisecond. grabbing you by the back of your neck and kissing you right back, nibbles and suckles and tongue and everything.

"you'll do well, don't worry too much," the tendencies of a one night stand turned friend; it's probably not the best idea to become buddies with someone you slept with, especially if you want more.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢

the hallways are crowded as always, loud and bustling, drowning out your and sunoo’s laughs and giggles. talking about anything and everything while you wait for another friend.

sunoo's known you for a few years now, not a lot but enough to know when something's up. “he didn't check it properly and then.. hey? are you oka—” and he notices it on your face a fraction of a moment before you pull him into an abrupt kiss— mid conversation.

frozen, nervous and confused. yet all he thinks is actually how uncannily decent it feels, almost encroaching a feeling way too good. “i’m so sorry sun. i told my ex we are dating and he looked our way when he passed by and i panicked—” sunoo shushes you all too quickly, regretting not having kissed back properly.

“i get it, we can pretend. i don't mind it,” he doesn't know what comes over him as he proposes the idea, but he definitely expects to get into situations like these. why? he has no clue. he just wants it.

“everything you need to do to convince him, i’m all in,” his gaze trails over your lips, leaning closer unintentionally. another kiss right in the middle of the hallway. the tendencies of a friend offering to help in a non friendly way; fake dating a friend you feel like you could possibly develop feelings for is like digging your own grave.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

four months, seventeen days, twelve hours and probably thirty-six minutes. jungwon’s counting with all he has. this relationship, or whatever is going on between you two; beyond friends and bordering lovers, is bugging him down to his core. it's eating away at him.

“you just called me your friend,” leaning against the elevator wall, hands in his pockets, jungwon tries to behave— be as nonchalant as he can. jealousy? what's that? look me in the eyes and tell me i'm just a friend look.. no he isn't looking at you like that. snap out of it yang jungwon!

“you really think i’m just a friend? after all that we have don—” two steps closer, bodies pressed, eyes locked and your kiss that shuts him up. oh to hell with being normal with you. your hands slide around the back of his neck and his words die down against your lips like kissing you is his second nature.

“boyfriend? you want that label?” the mumbles against his lips, the sound of your soft breaths and the taste of your lipbalm, it's like jungwon is high.

“again.” catching your lower lip between his in a languid nibble. he can't help but keep wanting to kiss you, the ding of the elevator drowned out behind all his thoughts of you. the tendancies of a situationship with obvious feelings; being friendzoned by your girlfriend-to-be gets you jealous, he'll admit it now.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

friends. friends. friends. riki chants internally, again and again. and again. poopy diaper, runny nose, screeching tantrums— he thinks everything unpleasant about you, everything he possibly can. childhood friends ripping each other's hair out, neighbours annoying each other across the bedroom windows, classmates snitching out on each other's crushes. everything that's just friends.

nothing more. never— impossible. riki soothes himself, his mind and heart still jumbling all around after your question earlier, ‘what if we kissed?’ disgusting! right? he's not sure if he's answering or questioning his sanity.

and though the conversation is stirred clear of the topic, both of you nestled on your bedroom floor talking about club applications; his eyes staring right at you, seeming as unfazed as ever, his psychological state is nowhere near willing to calm down.

“what do you think about the drama clu—” your lips don't last even a second on his, before he is pushing you away, like he's allergic to kisses.

“w-what are you doing!” riki exclaims, fingers rubbing over his mouth,”i told you earlier,” and then slowly reaching forward to brush them against yours as he leans back in, involuntarily he insists. “i know but this is, so weird.. i’m not supposed to like it,” soft mumbles and lips grazing. the tendencies of a lifelong friend crossing an improbable line. locking lips with your childhood friend just for a ‘what if’ is the worst plan ever, or maybe not so much.

taglist 。open! @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @enhabooks @criminalyun @oddracha @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp

[cvpidzcvrse]

𝔄𝔯𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔉'𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩?

MDNI, skadaddle nigga

✦A/N: i swear i try to post more but like but sitting on my ass is just rlly fun to do. BUT OFC I CANT BE GONE FOR LONGG!! also i didn’t proofread so ignore typos. here’s an ony fic that i pushed out my pussy bc i’m hot like that. ENJOY!

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Synopsis: You and ony have been fwb for a few months now. On a strict “no emotions involved” type of situation. But he can’t help it if he gets jealous when you start talking to someone else. Your famous last words? "Make me, nigga."

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Wc: 2,233

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Warnings: Mdom, argument, jealous ony, degradation, light choking, oral male!receiving, manhandling, spanking, face fucking, orgasm denial, fingering, very little praise, he’s mean asf, p in v, and finishing inside (practice safe sex)

(reader is black)

You and Onyankapon have been friends with benefits for a couple of months now. It all started because you wanted to lose your virginity badly. You were gnawing at the bars of your enclosure, being that dick hungry you put pornstars to shame. But you didn’t want to lose something so special to someone you barely knew. So you went down a line of people you knew, most of them you immediately shot down. Connie was a whore, Armin had a girlfriend, Jean is…Jean, so what was left was your best friend. He took the opportunity and ran with it, now you guys fuck at least twice a week.

Ony made the sex strictly just sex, with no relationship or strings attached. Just adults blowing off steam almost every weekend. He said it was ok to talk to other people, that’s where Eren comes in. You met him through Armin 2 weeks ago and you guys haven't stopped talking since. Even now, you’re at Ony’s house watching a movie but you can’t separate your eyes from your screen. He invited you over with the notion of just “watching a movie” but he just wanted to fuck, and you knew that. 

“Me Personally, I’d definitely survive in the quiet place. Like all you have to do is be quiet, it’s easy.”

You nod your head slowly, paying no attention to Ony’s statement. Your fingers are flying across your phone, you’re having a deep conversation with Eren. Ony looks over at you and rolls his eyes, you can feel his attitude radiating off of him and steam coming out of his ears.

“My nigga, you’re not even listening to me,” 

“First, I’m not ‘your nigga’. Secondly, I am listening…”

You trail off after hearing your phone go off with a ding. You snatch your phone out of your lap quickly and start typing away. He gives you the most crazed look he can muster. 

“Nigga, are you f’real?”

You look over at Ony’s reaction and the fact that he’s acting like such a drama queen right now. There’s no way he’s hurt by the fact that you’re talking to other people. He’s the one who made the rules in the first place, so why does he care who you talk to? He’s starting to regret his rule-making skills. Your flawless brown skin-pops with your white hoodie and sweatpants to match. Even before y’all started hooking up he thought you were the most beautiful person ever. 

“Damn, what the fuck are you talking about? Are you good?”

You frowned at his outburst, confused by the sudden change in tone. You finally put your phone to the side and put your attention on Ony. 

“You’ve been on your phone this whole fucking time. Paying absolutely no attention to me or the movie. Who are you even texting?”

“No One-” 

Ding..

Ony groans before snatching your phone out of your lap and softly pushing you back from getting it. You get up from your position on the couch and start reaching over his head but his grip on your wrist won’t budge. 

“Let’s see who you’re so fucking focused on…”

He looks at the screen and goes silent before turning his head at you. You’re standing there with an overly irked look, hands on your hips, and eyeing him up and down.

“...Eren!? Eren fucking Jeager!? Don’t tell me you’re actually talking to that sorry ass nigga?’

You roll your eyes at his possessiveness. There’s no reason why he should be concerned about who you text and who you decide to mingle with. It’s your pussy and can determine who it wants, right? 

“It’s not something you should be concerned about. Shit, just give me the dick so I can leave, that’s why you called me over right?”

His eyes go wide at your boldness. He can’t tell if you’re upset or just trying to rile him up—either way, it’s making him go insane. 

“Take that bass out yo’ voice mama. I’m looking out for you, Eren isn’t the type you want. Stop talking to that nigga”

He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue showing clear signs of irritation. His baritone voice sends chills down your spine. Even when he’s irritated he still looks handsome, the warning look in his eyes makes your pussy clench.

“Who are you talking to right now? I ain’t gotta do shit, f’real. I’m not gonna let some Chiptole bag-tatted ass nigga tell me what the fuck to do.” 

Ony’s eyes are bulging out of his head and the vein on his forehead is starting to grow. He isn't fond of your attitude, he snatched you up multiple times because of it. He slowly gets up from his spot on the couch, now looking down at you with a dark look in his eye. 

“Watch your tone…”

He says eerily calm, his low voice coming out as silk to your ears. It’s like he’s talking directly to your pussy and she’s listening to every word he’s saying. Instead of standing down like he said you decide to stand on business, which is one mistake amongst many.

“Make me, nigga..”

You scuffed and rolled your eyes. That statement alone made Ony let out a rich chuckle, his face displaying a cheeky smirk. Before you even have time to gauge his actions you feel his callous hand wrap around your neck, forcing you to look up at him.

“Make you what? Say it again..”

He whispers seductively in your ear. You turn away from him before he roughly drags your face back to his. You shake your head not wanting to even breathe, You started this mess now he has to finish it. 

“The cock slut doesn’t wanna speak, huh? Take off your clothes since you want my dick so badly.”

The tent in his pants is now noticeable. He lets go of your neck and sits back down on the couch. You start untying your sweatpants, then slowly taking over your panties, followed by your hoodie and bra. Now you’re standing in front of him, all dignity stripped away with your clothes. 

“Get on your knees and suck this dick, I’ll show you exactly how to watch that mouth one of yours.” 

You nod before sitting in front of him unbuckling his belt. You slide down his pants to reveal his bulging cock through his underwear. You slowly pull down his underwear, earning a scuff from Ony. He pushes your hand away and pulls his cock out himself. His leaking mushroom tip was just inches away from your face. 

“Open your mouth.”

His passionless voice makes your clit throb and your stomach drop. He’s giving you no mercy tonight and you know that. You open your mouth wide as directed and impatiently wait for his next. He chuckles at how pitiful you look at this moment, taking a mental snapshot in his head. You’re waiting for his next command, your hand in between your thighs as you subtly grind on your hand for some type of friction. He grabs the base of his cock and slaps the tip on your tongue. 

“You like this shit, don’t you? Go on, suck it.”

You wrap your plump lips around his big cock, bobbing your head slowly. You trace circles around his tip with your tongue. He lets out a string of groans, feeling your warm mouth wrapped around his cock. He grabs the back of your neck and pushes you down on his cock roughly. You gag when his cock grazes the back of your throat with force. Tears swell in your eyes as he fucks your face senselessly. The vibrations of your moans drive him crazy, your muffled moans and tears send him over the edge. 

“Mhm…Swallow this cock—fuck”

His head lays on the couch cushion behind him. His hand travels from your neck to the back of your head, gripping your hair harshly. Your faux locs are now scrunched up in his hand. He starts pushing your head down rougher as his pace starts getting sloppy. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth and hot tears flow down your face. 

“Fuck–I’m about to cum. Make me cum, slut.” 

You moan at his command, your fingers travel down to your soaked pussy, and start massaging your aching clit. You hollow your cheeks and bob your head at his messy tempo pushing him closer and closer to his climax. White ropes shoot down your throat, and the warm thick substance slides your throat. His dick flops out your mouth with a ‘pop’. You rub fast circles on your clit wanting to cum as hard as he did. Right before you make it you feel Ony grab your wrist, halting any movement. 

“Who said you could touch yourself? Get up…”

You pout at your ruined orgasm. You get up before he grabs your waist and pulls you onto his lap. Your ass grazes his cock and your back is to his chest. He spreads your legs and hands as he traces small circles on your clit. Your head falls back in satisfaction, he smoothly inserts two of his long fingers inside your damp cunt. You grab his arm roughly, leaving dark nail marks on his tatted skin. His finger moves in and out of you with wet sounds accompanying it. 

“F…fuck…right there..”

You whine into his neck when you feel his pace quicken. He’s knuckles deep inside of you, the speed of his strokes increasing by the second. He chuckles at the sight, you’re drooling, your eyes screwed shut, and pornographic moans flooding the living room.

He groans as you squirm in his lap, your bare ass rubbing against his hard cock. He uses his other hand to rub your sensitive clit. Your grip tightens on his arm, your nail prints getting deeper every time he picks up his pace. His fingers plunging into your cunt with such speed and aggression brings you closer to your orgasm. 

“F—Fuck…s…slow down…I’m about…to—”

Ony chuckles before pausing his movement. He removes his fingers from your sloppy pussy and trails his hand over to your ass and gives it a small squeeze. 

“Only good girls get to cum. C’mon, face down ass up. Right now.” 

You whine at the absence of friction and he gives your ass a hard ‘Smack’ in response. He tossed you over to the other side of the couch before turning you on your stomach. He slides his cock on your warm slit, teasing your greedy pussy. He gives your ass a sharp slap before plunging his cock into your pussy without warning. 

You let out a porno-worthy moan and grab one of the couch cushions for stability. Ony quickly picks up the pace, abusing your cervix with every stroke. He gives your ass a couple of harsh slaps before grabbing the back of your neck and pushing your face into the couch cushion. The living room is overflowing with moans, grunts, and the sound of your sopping wet pussy. You put your hand back to stop Ony’s forceful thrust. 

“S—Shit…slo—ow…down…fuck” 

“Nah, Take this shit…Fuck, you’re such a slut.” 

Ony slaps your hand away before placing both of his hands on your hips, pulling you deeper into every thrust. You stifle your moans with your both as the bully of your pussy continues. 

‘Ding’

‘Ding’

You hear him groan as his strokes cease. He grabs your phone from the other side of the couch before scoffing at the name. 

“What the fuck does this lame ass nigga want?... Hold on.” 

You can hear the smirk in his voice, his cock going at a slower pace than before. You let out a few whimpers that earn you a harsh slap on your already stinging ass. 

“Hush…” 

His monotone voice sends chills down your spine. You have no clue what's going on behind you until you notice the shadow of your silhouette on the neighboring wall. 

‘Is that a flashlight? Wait…is he recording?’

Before you can confirm your answer he goes back to abusing your pussy. You muffle a moan with the pillow in front of you. He presses your body against the couch, the only thing talking is the wetness of your pussy.

“Shit…She’s talking to me, mama. C’mon, tell him who this pussy belongs to.”

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out but slutty moans. He gives your ass a hard smack, placing his free hand on your lower back. 

“Y-You! F—Fuck!... You do! You own this…mmph…slutty pussy!”

You choke out, completely cock drunk. You hear him chuckle and groan. You pussy turning him into a mess also. His strokes begin to get messy and you feel his cock twitch inside of you. 

“Shit mama…cum on my cock baby .”

He reaches his free hand around to trace circles on your clit.  Almost like clockwork, you leave your juices all over his cock and coat his shaft in a slippery mess. You feel his tip hit your G-spot a few more times before you feel his warm and sticky cum engulf your inside. His cock is covered in both of your juices, a ring of the mix at the base of his cock. 

Your brain is fogged with lust, you can barely think right now. All you can see are stars and darkness before finally feeling him pull out. 

“Did my dick feel good?”

“Mhm…”

“You’re my slut, right?”

“Mhm…” 

“Thank you, mama."

[Sent: 1 Attachment.]

[bruhstories]

Bet III

p.1 here & p2. here & p.4 here & p.5 here & p.6 here

summary: the game is on, but in-ho can't focus on it. he's got you on his mind pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan, slight voyeurism, people dying ayy yo (but if you watched squid game, this is just normal) w/c: 2.2k

a/n: if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! also feel free to replace y/n's age, i just needed to put a number there lol

In-ho removed the intricately designed mask from his face and poured himself a glass of whisky, one leg crossed over the other as he sat on the leather sofa of the control room. The first game was about to begin soon — always Red Light, Green Light — and he waited for his favourite song to start — always Fly Me To The Moon. There was something so hauntingly beautiful about listening to a love song while people lost all hope, one by one falling to the ground.

It was a fantastic way to get rid of the weakest links, leaving only those resilient alive. Player 101, eliminated. Player 82, eliminated. Player 329, eliminated. Player 2, eliminated. They dropped like flies, frantically clawing at the gates in a futile attempt to escape while the soldiers shot them from above, painting the ground crimson.

Exhilarating was the only word that could describe what In-ho felt in that moment, and nothing compared to it. When happiness died along with his wife, control was the only thing that fulfilled him. He controlled who died and who lived, but he was also being fair — if participants played by the rules, they survived. It couldn’t get any simpler than that.

Obviously, they didn't have a choice, and In-ho knew that well enough. No, players only had the illusion of choice, but that mirage was what kept them in the game. Besides, they chose to come to the island. They chose to gamble their lives. They chose to be greedy. If anything, the games taught them, albeit for a short time, that actions had consequences, and In-ho was their judge, jury and executioner. It was truly thrilling. Exciting. Exhilarating.

His phone lit up with a notification from the security cameras concealed in his house. Irked by the sudden disturbance, he opened the app to check the footage. You weren't supposed to be there at that time, because you had already been at his house in the morning. In-ho watched you lock the door behind you, thinking today was the day you stole from him and proved him right.  He scoffed, hoping you would last longer than one day, but to his surprise, you sat on the kitchen floor, knees to your chest, crying. 

He couldn't send you a text — it would have made it obvious that he knew you were there, and his eyes lingered on his phone, forgetting about the game in front of him for a moment. In-ho watched you take out your phone and type, and not a minute later he received a text.

Good morning again! I had a bit of free time after my second job today and came to check on Eunjoo. I'll be leaving in an hour for my other job and I'm not charging for the extra visit.

In-ho stared at the big screen, completely dumbfounded and ignorant to the people dying right before his eyes. How were you working that many jobs? That was, if you were even telling the truth. But he would find out soon, because he left a stack of 2 million won on his nightstand, eagerly waiting for you to take it. You had to take it. You had to be the same as everyone else.

That's absolutely fine. If you don't mind me asking, how many jobs are you working?

He swapped back to the security cameras and watched you wipe the tears off your face with the back of your hand, smiling at his text. Did he say something funny? Why on Earth would you be smiling when a minute ago you had tears rolling down your cheeks?

Officially two, unofficially three. I teach Korean to a family of immigrants, but that's unpaid. I think of it as volunteering. They do feed me, though! My other job is a mascot at Lotte World.

In-ho shattered the empty glass in his hand while reading your text, and winced when he felt blood seeping from a fresh cut. Why, just why did you have to prove him wrong? He watched you go into his bedroom with a pile of freshly clean and dried shirts, ignoring the money. You saw the stack, he noticed you staring at it, hoping you grabbed it, but you found his ironing board and began to iron his shirts, not sparing the money another glance.

Why?

Through the camera, he saw you text back.

Why what?

"Tsk." In-ho scoffed at your question while wrapping a bandage around his palm.

Why are you working that many jobs?

Ah. My uncle has debts. Unfortunately, I had to drop out from uni to help him pay for them. It's fine though, I like what I'm doing. 

How old are you?

23.

Jesus Christ, you were so young, yet life had been unfair to you. You deserved an education, a better life, and it cemented his ideal that the world needed to rid itself of the trash. He didn't know the full details, but he was sure to find out. You were unlike anyone he's met before. At least for now, at least until you proved him right.

Ding!

In-ho opened a picture from you — Eunjoo curling up on the left side of his bed, paws under her, looking like a loaf of bread, and the question 'Is that your side of the bed?' under it.

Indeed it is. 

I knew it! Aww, she misses you :( 

How strange it was to read those words. How strange it was to think about someone, or something missing him. To In-ho that was a foreign feeling, and he loosened his tie, swallowing the lump in his throat. He'd seen Eunjoo sleep on his side of the bed before, when he was gone, but he assumed it was just comfortable for her. 

Animals truly were better than humans. If they betrayed their owners, they did it out of necessity. When humans betrayed, it was by choice. 

In-ho watched you neatly adjust his ironed shirt on a coat hanger that you hung in his wardrobe, disregarding the Red Light, Green Light game that had long finished, and it hit him like a train that you reminded him of his wife. God, you were so much like his wife it infuriated him, because no one was allowed to take that place in his heart. No one was allowed to make him feel anything other than hatred.

You had to make a mistake, to prove to him that you were just like everybody else, and if money didn't make you crack, something else would. In-ho made it his purpose to unravel your darkest secrets, whether through manipulation or sheer force, but the distance between the two of you proved a greater obstacle than he thought. 

He watched you finish ironing his clothes, watched you refill Eunjoo's water bowl, watched you comb your hair and put lip balm on while staring into his mirror, and it felt so wrong to study all your quirks and habits without you even knowing. It was the closest thing to having a normal life. But nothing about what he was doing was normal. Especially not watching you be so oblivious to his true self.

With a sigh, In-ho adjusted his mask left the control room to instruct his subordinates, the square-masked guards, to prepare  for the next game, Neolttwigi, the soldiers to take the remaining players back to their beds, and the workers to remove the corpses. 188 players survived and more than 50% were eliminated. In-ho, in his Front Man persona, should've focused on the games, but he couldn't, for some unknown reason, shake off the image of you crying on his kitchen floor. He didn’t dare ask what happened. How could he? It would destroy all the secrecy.

It wasn't that he cared about you — he didn't. You appeared to be a positive, cheerful and talkative person, so whatever hurt your feelings must have been important. Was it your uncle? Your boyfriend? He scoffed at that thought. The mere idea of some guy breaking your heart made him irrationally angry, and In-ho was lucky that his mask concealed his frustration. 

He decided to pay the remaining players a visit, accompanied by eight armed guards, and, just like last year, and the year before, and the year before that, there was always a woman who dropped to her knees, begging to be spared and allowed to go home. Another one followed, and even men asked for forgiveness, but they just couldn't get it through their thick skulls that they chose to be there. They chose to gamble their lives away, they chose to borrow money and end up with debts they could never afford to repay. No one forced them to play the games.

When the room was filled with echoing cries and hysterical sobs, In-ho fired a single shot in the air, shutting everyone up. They all looked at him with fear in their eyes like pigs in a slaughterhouse waiting to be gutted, and he lowered the gun, standing firm on his feet.

"You must be mistaken. You are not here to be punished, you are all here because of the choices you made." In-ho simply said, his voice distorted by the mask. 

He took notice of teams already being formed, of those who were willing to step on corpses just to get the big prize and those who would rather sacrifice themselves, because there were always people who wanted to play the hero. He studied them all before they got recruited, and knew 456 secrets, 456 names, 456 lives. Well, only 188 survived.

"We came here to win money, not to fucking die!" Player 072 shouted from the back of the room. "And if I'm correct, we can vote to go back home."

Ah, yet another one who thought they could outsmart In-ho. He's been there before. He walked that path before, and it taught him that people don't change. Ever. Even if they voted to leave, they always came back.

"Of course, clause three of the consent form. If the majority decides to go home, you are free to do so. We don't hold anyone against their will." In-ho nodded. "But before you make your choice, allow me to tell you the current accumulated prize."

He pressed a button on a small, black remote and a large glass piggy bank was lowered from the ceiling as the lights in the room dimmed down. Stacks upon stacks of money piled up in the piggy bank, and the screen counted the current prize — 26.8 billion won. In-ho watched how their faces lit up at the amount of money accumulated, but also how the penny dropped for most of them — the more people died, the more money the survivors got.

"If you choose to leave, the money will be distributed amongst the deceased players' families. It’s only fair." He said, and left the room so that the soldiers could prepare for the democratic vote.

"You're manipulating us!" In-ho heard a player shout, and maybe he did. Maybe he was chipping away at their humanity to bring out the worst in them, but it was for the best. At least by dying they served a purpose.

It was no surprise that the majority voted to stay, 95 to 93. Good — he didn't have to go through the trouble of sending them home. The soldiers and workers brought food for the players, and In-ho checked his phone in the safety of his room. There was no text from you, and it was almost time for you to check on Eunjoo, but when it hit 9 and you weren't in his house, he felt a knot in his stomach, an uneasy feeling. Was he worried? Of course he was, for his cat, not for you.

Ding!

The sound of his phone caught him off guard, almost startling him, almost making him feel relieved when he saw it was you, and In-ho read the text.

Evening! Traffic was baaad this evening but I'm nearly at the penthouse. Will Eunjoo ever forgive me? :( 

The stupid sad face you sent made the image of you pouting pop up in his head and he wondered why. There wasn't a good enough reason for you to be haunting him like a phantom. You were a nobody to him.

Eunjoo might, but I won't.

In-ho immediately regretted pressing send. It was unprofessional and stupid of him to text such a reply, because you weren't friends. He had no friends. 

I'm so sorry, but I promise I'll make it up to you, Mr. Hwang! I really need to get you a gift for letting me use your shower anyway.

A relieved sigh escaped his lips when you didn't take his message the wrong way, but part of him was hoping you would try to flirt with him, seduce him, do anything to prove him right. And yet again, you remained true to yourself.

He watched you on the cameras again, how you invaded his home, his life, how you fed Eunjoo and munched on prawn crackers again, disappointed that you, for the second day in a row, refused to use anything in his house for yourself except for the shower and the TV.

There was still time to win the bet, and he never lost.

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @hobiesbrownsgf @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair @missroro @talia-the-gemini @fortluocha @true-queen-of-mischief @ssa-callahan @bibliophile-yomna @wwastro @heartsforseo @marymun @glads-stuff @starryeddie @kisses2kanao @gagaga167 @l4venderia @scryi @lelisae @twicelover2 @ashtrosstuff @cruel-affair @cdej6 @veragrhm

please keep in mind that if i didn't tag you it's because i either missed it, or i couldn't find your age on your blog. there will be smut.

[bluetimeombre]

☽｡⋆ Learning to fly, starting to crawl

Over one hundred years ago, you lost your wings but the wound still hurts like it was only yesterday. When your brothers mate wants to learn to fly, he doesn’t hesitate in teaching her, right in front of you. And nobody can see the scars except the one you love…

[OMG I'M ALIVE!!!! I've had this sitting in my drafts for months but have only just got around to posting. Basically, I have too many hobbies but i'm in a writing mood again., very fitting to start with my boy AZRIEL, whom i love very much. I hope you enjoy. This is linked to my other Azriel fic but of course can be read alone. Not proof-read and yes, she lost her wings. It's becoming almost a thing but it makes for some good ass angst. ENJOY!!!!]

☽｡⋆

The inner circle all sat around the table, eating and chatting merrily. Rhysand sat at the head of the table, as was tradition, while his mate- Feyre- sat next to him, their hands entwined. They smiled at each other, as so in love they were. Cassian and Mor were joking around along with Amren and Elian listened politely. Every now and then, she glanced the shadow singers way to invite him into the conversation but there was no such luck.

Azriel only stared ahead of him, glaring at the empty space where you usually sat. He wasn’t at all surprised you hadn’t turned up, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t be angry about it.

For a few weeks now he’d noticed the shift in you. You snapped easily and often rolled your eyes at anything your brother- the high lord- had to say. He’d heard you pace your rooms at night and his shadows (that favoured you above all) had reported that many nights you went to Rita’s.

But your empty seat irked him. And it irked him that Rhys seemed to not care in the slightest.

Az was the first to be aware of your presence, the echo of the door opening alerting them all and your scent hit him in the face. He inhaled it- your lavender, your sweetness, tinted by the alcohol lingering.

Rhysand huffed and everyone seemed to notice the shift. ‘I apologize about this, Feyre darling.’

Just then, you and Nesta stumbled into the room, arms linked and laughing your heads off about something or other.

Azriel drank you in. Your cheeks were flushed, your dress creased as you struggled to stay up right. Gods, what had you done?

You pouted dramatically, throwing a hand on your hip. ‘Uh oh, Rhysands got his grumpy face on.’

‘Isn’t that his usual?’ Said Nesta, causing the two of you to laugh again.

Everyone watched the two of you.

‘Where have you been?’ Az asked, wanting to rush to you and support you, but Rhys seemed one breath away from snapping.

‘We’re trying to have a pleasant meal, don’t ruin it,’ he grumbled.

‘Yes sir!’ You saluted.

Rhys growled and Feyre took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

‘Something tells me we’re not wanted, y/n,’ Nesta said to her.

‘Alas, we do not want to be here,’ you said, stumbling your way past the table. Before you went, you gave Feyre a squeeze on the shoulder, leaning down to whisper to her. ‘Feyre darling.’

‘Enough!’ Rhys shot up, hands on the table.

You barley spared him a glance as you and Nesta went about your way. You tripped on a plant pot, stumbling and apologizing to the object.

Azriel got out his seat, ready to follow you to wherever. No matter if you wanted him or not.

‘Sit down, Azriel,’ said Rhysand, taking his seat again. He picked up his fork and smiled at his mate like nothing had happened. All the while, your scent got further away from him.

He looked between where you’d disappeared and his high lord. He settled down and promised he’d find out what had made you act so.

☽｡⋆

You woke with unbearable pain in your head the next day. And your back. Your head was granted with the amount you and Nesta had drank, seeking to out-do one another so much so you drank out most of Rita’s.

But your back, the pain was new. Almost as if it knew why you were so angry, so bitter and it sort to make it worse.

Your curtains were drawn but the wind blew them back, letting you glimpse the outside world you dreaded to be a part of.

Shadows curled up your bed, brushing your hair back affectionately. They seemed to always be around you, as if they knew the bond that heaved in your chest even if their master didn’t.

You offered them a poor smile. ‘I’m fine.’ But they caressed you and smelt your lie.

From beyond the curtains, you caught a glimpse of figures in the sky. You’d always loved your room for the view it granted, of the sun, the moon, the stars. But after losing your wings, the view turned cold and the sky never seemed as bright.

It only got worse.

Though you knew the pain it would bring you to see, you wrapped a blanket around you and treaded over to the window.

Feyre was trying out her new wings, the black gifts she’d been given. Once mortal, she now had everything you wanted. The power, the wings. Your freedom was now hers.

And you hated it.

Azriel was looking close to her, encouraging her as she went. Though they were small figures to you, you could see his smile, how he held his hands out to her should she lose confidence.

How many times had you flown side by side, acting like the clouds abided you. The times you’d raced or dropped just to have Azriel catch you.

Never again.

The bitterness invaded your mouth again, blocking out all other logical senses.

Your door burst open- the shadows rushing to your side and curling around your shoulders. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was, the anger radiating from him was enough.

‘How dare you turn up in the state you did last night,’ snapped Rhys. You didn’t turn to face him, shielding yourself from his fury. ‘You had no right to ruin a lovely evening. We are trying to make Feyre and her sisters feel welcomed, its a shame my own sister can’t seem to do that for me.’

The words twisted in your gut. For him… had you not done everything for him? Lost your wings because you wouldn’t give in? Lost fifty years of your life to be with him?

‘Get over whatever it is going on and only return to us when you want to act like a decent human being.’ Rhysand snapped before leaving again, slamming the door- causing her to flinch.

The shadows ran down your hair, your cheeks, your sides. Giving you any ghostly comfort they could. ‘I’m fine,’ you told them again, retreating further into your room.

The shadows followed you, but only half of them. The other half had returned to their master, clouding him and whispering in his ear.

Her wings. She misses her wings.

She hadn’t had to say it out loud, they knew her pain.

Azriel paused in the sky, alerting Feyre. She’d seen the shadows surround him in flourishes. She couldn’t understand they were reporting in on you, that Az needed you to have something there when he could not be.

‘What is it?’ She asked, beating her wings.

He stared at her then at the wings. He was filled with the longing to be with you, in the sky, playing. Your wings were beautiful, just because they were you. A beautiful part of you.

‘I need to speak with the high lord.’

☽｡⋆

‘Ask someone else to train Feyre to fly,’ said Azriel.

He’d insisted he needed to see the high lord on urgent matters that could not wait. He’d expected it to be of the war, but Azriel opened with the line.

Rhysand was sat behind his desk, looking up to Azriel with some amusement. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Ask Cassian,’ he said, he didn’t need to repeat himself.

‘Feyre wanted you.’

‘I can’t do it anymore,’ he said, stating it all simply.

Rhysand waited, wondering if he’d be graced with an explanation, but it never came. ‘Might I ask why.’

‘Your sister.’

Rhys’s amusement turned to a deep scowl. ‘My sister has asked you to stop flying with Feyre?’

‘No. She hasn’t asked, she never would. But I can’t teach Feyre to fly anymore.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m confused- what does any of this have to do with y/n?’ He asked.

Azriels shadows wound tight around him, coating him like a second skin. He wanted to yell, and he never let his emotions get the better of him. Instead, he curled his hand into a fist and clenched his jaw. ‘Do you really not think that this is hurting her?’

‘After her behaviour the past couple days I think it’s her who’s doing the hurting,’ he said, picking a bit of invisible lint from his shoulder.

‘She lost her wings,’ said Azriel with barely contained annoyance. ‘She lost them. They were cut from her back and she was left to bleed out.’

‘I do remember that Azriel,’ said Rhys, closing his eyes at the words. ‘I was there when we found her.’

‘So do you not think that teaching your mate to fly doesn’t effect her?’

Rhysand looked at him. His eyes changed, the hue turning darker. No, he hadn’t thought that. You’d never let on to feeling anything for your wings or lack of them. But then again, even if you had, would you ever have gone to your brother.

Azriel took a measured step forward. ‘Do you not think it hurts her that you teach your mate to fly, the same mate that gasped in horror when she saw the scars on your sisters back? That you have us fly in front of the house where she can see? Did you even know that when she bathes y/n covers all the mirrors so she doesn’t have to get a glance at the scars.’

The high lord held up a hand. ‘I understand.’

‘No, you don’t. You could never know what it’s like, neither could I, or Cassian. She had a part of her ripped off and she has to live without it every day. But you’ve gifted Feyre them as if it’s nothing.’

‘Because my mate has the powers,’ argued Rhys. ‘If I could give y/n wings I would- in a heartbeat, I would.’

Azriel nodded. He knew that, he knew the relationship between you and Rhys was fractured at best, but he also knew that if anything or anyone hurt you, Az would kill them. ‘I don’t want to reach Feyre to fly because it hurts y/n.’

Rhys leaned back in his chair, studying him. ‘And you care about her?’

‘More than I can express.’ He would give her the wings from his back if he could. ‘And if something hurts her… it hurts me.’

Rhysand nodded. ‘I’ll take her flying from now on. We’ll do it in the mountains, to spare y/n from seeing it.’

Azriel bowed his head. ‘Thank you.’

Rhys nodded but averted his gaze. ‘Look after her, Azriel.’

‘I always have.’

☽｡⋆

Nesta had gone to Rita's, expecting you later but you'd already snuck down to the Wine cellar and picked out the finest to drown your sorrows alone in. You'd past Cassian on the way, the male worried about your shifting gaze and the way you held yourself but you brushed him off and carried on your way.

You hesitated outside your door, where shadows lurked. Yes, they liked you and yes they were often with you, but never guarding your door.

Then, you smelt it. Not wine but sweet cedar and moss. Az.

You didn't want this. Didn't want him to see you like this, in pain in your mind and back, in longing for the wind through your hair. You knew he'd noticed your behaviour, he was the spy master, you'd only hoped... only hoped he didn't care as much as he did.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and braced yourself for shouting.

Azriel stood there, looking regal and beautiful. His back was too the balcony, the door open and wind rusting his wings and sheets. His hands were behind his back and his gaze was... soft? It wasn't dark with anger or clouded in annoyance.

It was just Az.

'Azriel,' you do your best to smile, clearing your throat. 'What are you doing? I thought you had flying with Feyre?' you were trying but you were also just you and you missed your wings.

'I'm teaching her anymore,' he said.

You chuckle. 'Is she that bad a student?'

'I'm sorry.'

You look up to him, taking out the cork of the wine. Rose filled your senses. 'For what?'

'That she flys when you don't,' he mentioned it simply, as if you'd already told him what was hurting you and he'd accepted it.

You hadn't said it. You wouldn't. You hated yourself enough for being weak, you didn't need him, perfect Azriel, caring Azriel, to see how horrid your jealousy had made you. 'I don't know what you mean.'

'y/n,' he steps close to you, taking the bottle from you. He drops it at his side but no smash is delivered. The shadows swallow it up. 'Why won't you talk, instead of drowning yourself in pain?'

'I'm not drowning myself in anything,' you deny, moving away from him to close the balcony door. The air drifting in and moving everything but you only mocked.

'You can't fly,' he said.

Your eyes squeezed shut in pain. 'Yes, I know, you don't have to remind me.'

His boots sounded close behind her and he took her shoulders. He didn't force her to turn around, he only held her gently and soothed his thumbs over the knots in her back. 'You can't fly and words don't exist to tell you how sorry I am. If I could i'd give you the own wings off me back-'

'Don't say that.' The only thing worse than your pain, was Azriel going through it all.

'I would and I mean it just to see you smile again, if only for a second. I'd be glad to give them up,' he whispered. Your shoulders slumped under his grasp and he sighed in relief, it was better than tensing up again. 'I miss you smiling. I miss you laughing. I miss you smiling at me. I'm sorry if teaching Feyre to fly has hurt you.'

'It wasn't you, Az,' you turn in his hold, never letting him feel like it was his fault. In doing that, you admitted to being bothered. 'I can't be who I was, because I don't know how. And I don't want to try to only fail.'

He listened, hands trailing down your arms to rub.

You gulp. 'And it's not just losing the wings, it's everything I lost with it. Freedom. I can't join you or Cas, or anyone when you take to the skies. How am I going to cope in battle? I can't run as fast as I can fly, I can't fight as well. I can't hit Cassian over the head when he's being an idiot, I can't-I can't wrap them around you when we hold each other, and it's painful to think of everything I've lost when I've gained nothing.'

He listened, tears watering his gaze. You had not lost any of that, not to him.

'And Feyre,' you pulled away, crossing your arms around each other and looking out the window. 'I don't hate her, I wish I could but I can't. But she's been Fae for five seconds and she has everything I've ever wanted. Wings. My brother loves her. She's happy. I hate it and I hate myself.'

Your confession weighed your gut but your chest rose in a deep breath. You couldn't see Azriel behind you in the reflection of the windows and you couldn't hear him.

He'd gone. Of course he'd left, you'd whined about what you'd lost when you were at least alive. You'd complained about the High Lady- treason in Rhysand's book.

No, you were all alone.

But you weren't.

Az crept behind you and slowly- so you could pull away- wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He pulled you into his chest and matched his breaths with yours. 'I won't insult you by saying I get it, because I could never. But that time, when I found you after you'd lost your wings, I thought i'd lost you and that-that is how I imagine your feelings. Because I stopped breathing and I didn't think happiness would ever be in the world again. And your blood, you bleeding out has been in my nightmares since. If my hands were to be stained with it, let them, because it was the last thing i'd ever have of you.'

You had no idea. He'd felt terrible yes and been there the weeks and months it took to heal but you'd been so full of pain and guilt you hadn't thought of how he fared. Your greatest friend... your lustful secret.

Your hands came up to hold his arms.

'You do not have to be who you were before,' he whispered, head resting on your shoulder. 'Become better. Become something more. As for training, you're the strongest woman I know and still the only person I'd trust with my life.'

A tear escaped you.

He nudged your chin with his nose. 'And you can still hit Cass as much as you like.'

You laugh through tears, holding onto Az like he was the last thing anchoring you to yourself.

His wings slowly inched over you. 'And I will hold you all day, every day till I die, and i'll keep you safe.' His wings closed around the two of you as yours used to do.

Neither of you realised how much you'd missed it, needed it, craved it until it happened.

You'd lost your wings, but you had never and would never lose him.

[2hightocare]

DOWN BAD! 01

Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing,

Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader

Genre: friends to lovers. college au.

Warnings: toxicity, jealousy, explicit content, angsty, smoking, usage of drugs and alcohol, fighting, profanity, slowburn, jungkook and oc are literally in love but do nothing about it, crying, hurtful words being thrown out when arguing, slapping.

a/n: IM BACK!! this is something super different than anything I have ever wrote sooooo… but i actually really love it. This would be a two-shot. Hope you enjoy🪽🪽 <3

pinterest board. playlist 02! 03!

"He pisses me off," you say while dropping onto the couch with a loud annoyed sigh, catching Taehyung's and Dahlia's attention.

"What did he do now?" Taehyung jokes, adjusting his tie on his uniform. "Look at another girl, that's what he did," you clench your teeth, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. Your fingers play with the hem of your short navy squared skirt.

Your friends let out a collective laugh, making you scoff at them. "He asked a girl for a cigarette," you mumble under your breath, feeling the pang of jealousy hit your heart.

"Morning," a deep voice speaks from behind you, sending shivers down your body almost automatically. Your brows furrow as Jungkook makes his way beside you on the small couch in the lounge room after acknowledging his friends. His white button-up is opened, revealing a peak of his skin, which annoys you. He tugs on his navy tie, the same one as yours, undoing it and letting it hang loosely around his neck.

"Are you done being mad?" He tilts his head to the side, staring at you. His breath smells of the cigarette he had been smoking, the same one he accepted from a girl who had a crush on him, which irked you. You almost wanted to snatch the cigarette from his lips and stomp on it like a child when he lit it up.

"No, I'm not done being mad," you scoff, getting up from the couch in a swift motion. Jungkook lets out a frustrated sigh behind you before reaching for your skirt and pulling it down.

"Too short," he says, ignoring your whole tantrum.

You don’t reply. Instead, you smack his hand away from your ass before picking up your backpack and throwing it at him.

"Let’s go to class," you say, crossing your arms in front of you, making your boobs push up from the white button-up—you had intentionally left two buttons open after seeing him. His eyes immediately drop to your chest, and Jungkook pokes his cheek with his tongue on the inside before letting out a soft growl and reaching to button up your shirt.

"You’re insufferable," he lets out, fixing your shirt.

"You’re insufferable," you mock back, earning a grin from him.

"Are you ready to talk to me?" He bites his bottom lip, picking up your pink backpack and hanging it over his shoulder, something he was used to doing by now. "No, but the attitude is kinda hot, not gonna lie," you say, before making your way to your first period, with Jungkook trailing behind you like a puppy on a leash.

You and Jungkook weren’t dating, nor were you friends with benefits either. You were just friends with feelings bigger than Mount Everest. It all started on the first day of sophomore year of high school.

“No more fights, okay. First day only and you already got into a fight,” Namjoon blows out a sigh, running a hand down his face.

Jungkook scoffs, pulling on his tie. “This uniform is pissing me off.” He growls, ignoring Namjoon's attempt to coax him into a conversation about controlling his anger issues. Jungkook wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of it, especially today.

“Yeah, well, fancy private schools love their uniforms,” Namjoon jokes, but Jungkook's expression remains jaded.

“Anyways, you’re lucky you didn’t get suspended,” Namjoon continues, shooting Taehyung a look that screams for help.

“Lucky? I would’ve preferred if they expelled me,” Jungkook mumbles, leaning back on his chair, throwing his head back in annoyance.

Before Namjoon could mutter another response about self-sabotaging, a female voice catches Jungkook's interest. “I don’t give a fuck, she literally ripped my new tights,” you whine, your hair disheveled, the lipstick once on your lips now smeared, and your new black over-the-knee tights, ripped.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you could tackle her to the ground, Yn,” another girl says, nudging you, which makes you pout more. “My mom is going to kill me for getting into a fight on the first day.” You sit down in front of Jungkook, not even glancing his way, throwing your pink backpack on the ground beside you, keeping your eyes on the ground.

Jungkook takes notice of your appearance, and his heart rate skyrockets. You were beautiful, like an angel, but Jungkook knew better than to think you were innocent. The skirt was much shorter than it was supposed to be, your blouse more open than closed, which had Jungkook's eyes dropping to the tie between your tits, taking notice of the cross necklace hanging on your neck.

Angel with dirty wings. Jungkook thought to himself as he took you in, the smeared lipstick adding to your allure. Your full and pouty messy lips, had him imagining things only he imagined when he was in his room at night with his hand wrapped around his cock.

Instead, he's sitting at the front office with a pretty girl in front of him for the same reason he was. As he is thinking about far more inappropriate things than fighting. Before Jungkook could look away, your eyes met his.

“You’re new,” you grin at the bruised-up boy manspreading with a matching grin on his face in front of you.

“I am,” Jungkook replies, licking his bloody bottom lip with his tongue. Eyes still remain glued to yours as you nod. “I’ve never seen you around,” you state, tilting your head to the side, leaning forward.

“And I’m pretty sure I would remember someone that looked like you,” you continue, taking him in. The black blazer, with the school logo, he was supposed to be wearing was discarded on the chair beside him, leaving him in the white button-up, sleeves rolled up halfway, giving you a full view of the veins on his arms. His black hair was tousled on his head, the bloody lip made him hotter than you cared to admit.

“Is this a way of telling me you don’t have a boyfriend?” Jungkook flirts, ignoring his friends' obvious stares from beside him.

“Not yet,” you quirk, tapping your finger on your bare thigh. “What’s your name?” you ask, wanting to know more about the boy in front of you besides the fact that he gets into fights on the first day of school.

“Does it matter? You’ll be calling me “baby” by the end of the day,” Jungkook says aloof, which gets him a small smile from you. “Smooth,” you shrug, leaning backward.

"Angel," he says, his hands snaking around your waist, pulling you in.

"Hi," you smile at him, your eyes twinkling with unspoken affection.

"Hi," Jungkook responds, his dimple carving into his skin as he leans forward, his nose touching yours, nuzzling—a short, quick gesture that steals the air from your lungs. You almost feel yourself hanging onto these moments by a thread—moments where he isn’t high or drunk out of his mind or fighting with anyone who pisses him off in the slightest.

"Do you like my costume?" You flutter your eyelashes at him sarcastically, eliciting a small laugh as he throws his head back into the wall. "I don’t know, do I?" he says, his tone dipped in enticing sarcasm. His tattooed hand drops lower on your back, causing your breath to hitch in your mouth.

The music suddenly muffles out as you focus on Jungkook’s finger dipping into the waistband of your skirt. "You look pretty," he whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Where’s your halo, baby?" he says, pulling on your perfectly curled hair, making you look up at him. "Lost it while I was dancing," you pout, wrapping your arms around his waist, pulling him in closer to you.

You’ve never understood when people said, “home could be a person,” but you hundred percent get it now. It's almost embarrassing how quickly you melt into his embrace, your limbs relaxing—inhaling his scent. Your brain suddenly shuts down, not thinking about anything besides him, the moment he wraps his arms over your shoulders, dropping his lips on the crown of your head, leaving a soft kiss there.

"Don’t smile," you jut out, peeping your head up to see the small curved smile displayed on his face. "Why not?" he pokes, amusement clear in his face as his smile widens, deepening his dimples.

"Stop," you giggle, placing a small hand over his face.

"What?" he chuckles, getting a hold of your hand, giving your wrist a kiss before letting it hang beside you. "Your dimples are showing, and they’re only mine to see. Bitches love dimples," you say, only making him smile more.

Anyone else who saw Jungkook smiling all giddy at you would know better than to poke fun at him—but it was rare to see Jungkook smiling and laughing so casually out in the open. Behind closed doors, Jungkook was the epitome of a teddy bear; he loved head and back scratches and loved being a little spoon, all contrary to his dark clothes, cigarettes hanging from his mouth, and the heavy amount of alcohol he could consume.

"Be a good boyfriend and stop smiling, please," you quip, untangling from his embrace and looking around for Dahlia, only to be met with her making out with Taehyung on the countertop.

"I’m not your boyfriend, angel," Jungkook says beside you, putting a hand over your shoulders, taking a chug out of his beer.

"Oh yeah, my bad. I forgot. You’re my bitch," you turn to look at him, a mischievous smile on your face, which has him playfully rolling his eyes, mumbling something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch before he took his arm off your shoulder, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a cigarette.

"Let’s go outside," he holds out his hand, which you don’t think twice before intertwining yours with his. You feel giddy as you walk past the crowd holding his hand, as he leads you outside. You hated how many small moments like this had you wanting more from him, knowing this is the most he could ever give you. Jungkook had walls larger than the walls of China. You tried your hardest to stand up on your tiptoes and look. But whenever you got a sneak peek from what's inside, Jungkook built them right back up.

Ever since sophomore year of high school, you had the hugest crush on Jungkook, and you knew deep down he did too, but he never said anything all these years. It was embarrassing how you found yourself waiting for him—you couldn’t help it; your heart basically beat for him.

As you both reach a tall seat wall, before you know it, he's picking you up and placing you on the cold brick wall. Goosebumps appear on your bare thighs while he rubs his warm, calloused hands up and down.

"Cold," you whine, looking down at your angel costume—the white, flowy short skirt, your long white knee-high socks with the tall heels. And don’t forget your lace white top that kept getting tangled with your belly piercing. "I know ways to keep you warm," Jungkook waggles his eyebrows, moving closer to you. You feel his hands on your knees, opening your legs before he steps in between them. The closeness was something you were used to—the cheek kisses, the hand on your thigh, but never this. He was too close to your face—you could feel his warm breath whenever he would breathe. You felt your chest heave as everything you wanted was for him to put his lips on yours. Jungkook's face moved closer in.

You felt your heart stop in your chest almost abruptly. If it wasn't for his face millimeters away from yours, you would think you just had a heart attack.

Your eyelids fluttered closed, waiting for his lips to make contact with yours, but you're met with nothing. Then you feel the warmth of his hand on your thighs disappear, and the same with his body between your legs. You open your eyes to be met with Jungkook lighting up a joint instead of a cigarette. Before you could stop yourself, you pull it out of his mouth with a hard tug.

"What the fuck," Jungkook says, an unreadable expression on his face when he looks at you. "Are you fucking serious?" Your eyebrows furrow as you throw the rolled-up paper somewhere far—jumping down the wall. Your heels click on the pavement as you walk closer to him. The heels didn't do anything for you, as you still had to look up at him to meet his eyes.

"You said you’d stop," your voice cracks like your heart, as you push on his chest.

"It's just weed," Jungkook lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "That's what you said at first then you ended up in my room, high off oxy. So don't tell me it's just weed, Jungkook," you shove him, sending him tumbling backward.

The knock on your window sends your soul leaping out of your body. The sight of your favorite boy outside has your heart beating faster—it's past midnight, so seeing him there sends a different feeling down your body.

“Hi, what are you doing here?” You ask, opening the window to let him climb in. His eyes don’t meet yours as he walks in and sits on your bed, watching you close the window.

“Just wanted to see you,” Jungkook mumbles softly, his voice raspy.

“Well... hi,” you say as you drop beside him on your bed. “Hi,” he says, his eyes avoiding eye contact as he looks down at his twiddling fingers.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, worry picking up as your hand moves to his cheek. His skin is hot under your palm as you move his face to look at you.

The moment his eyes lock with yours, you feel as if the ground disappears beneath you. Jungkook's eyes are unnervingly vacant, the pupils dilated into enlarged black circles.

“What did you take?” Your voice cracks, holding his face in your hands as he slumps into you. “Baby... don’t be mad,” he slurs, his eyes fluttering closed—your hand immediately goes to his heart, finding his heartbeat. This isn’t the first time this has happened; it’s a repeating cycle where he gets high, ends up at your house, and you hear every apology in the book, but it doesn’t mean anything since he’d do it again. The new thing is you don’t yell anymore; instead, you feel the tears start rolling down your face.

“Fuck. Don’t cry. Yell at me, be mad,” Jungkook slurs, trying to reach for you, only for his arm to drop beside him.

“I can’t...” you sob, “why do you do this?” Another sob racks through your body as you pull him into your chest in a hug. His body is limp in your arms.

“Baby... I’m so fucking sorry,” he groans into your chest as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm down. “I love you,” he whispers, and you feel like you can’t breathe as another sob breaks out of you.

“Tell me when you’re sober,” you sniffle, knowing he wouldn’t remember in the morning, laying him down onto your bed and placing the pink covers over his shaking body. You know you’re just feeding into the cycle, but right now all you can do is cry. You prefer him in the safety of your room instead of outside on the streets. So instead, you wrap your arms around him and pray to god he’ll be okay.

“Why do you give a fuck about what I do?” Jungkook scoffs, “it’s none of your business,” he continues, but now it’s your turn to scoff.

“Right, it’s none of my business, asshole,” you throw out.

“You just don’t get it, do you? I’m not good for you,” Jungkook says, his tone much higher than he had anticipated. “I don’t give a fuck, I want you. Don’t you get that,” you frustratedly point your finger into his chest, almost annoyed that he still didn’t get it.

“You want this?” He motions between us, “us fighting all the time, because that’s all we do,” Jungkook scowls, the hard expression on his face has your heart shattering—you almost even hear the cracks as he continues to talk.

“I don’t need you being all up in my business; you’re not my mother,” Jungkook says, letting out a sigh of frustration—rubbing a hand over his face. “I care about you,” you say, looking at him, your voice betraying you as it cracks, again.

“Don’t,” he steps backwards, a shaky laugh escaping him as he avoids meeting your eyes. “Why?” You find yourself asking, making his head snap to look at you.

“Why what?” He asks, brows furrowed as he locks eyes with yours.

“Why did you lead me on then? If you don’t want me,” you ask, wrapping your hands over your waist, feeling vulnerable out in the open as you lay your heart in front of the man you were in love with. He had two choices, break it or carefully pick it up and lock it somewhere safe. You were praying he would pick option two—instead, he decided on the first option.

“What other reason would there be?” Jungkook says, his tone low, stepping closer to you, backing you into the brick wall. Your eyes move to his lips then back to his eyes.

“Maybe because you so easily would open your legs for me. All I have to do is ask,” he spits out. Before you know it, your hand is making contact with his cheek.

“Fuck you,” your teeth clench as you feel a tear stream down your face, “and this is why you shouldn’t want me,” Jungkook clicks his tongue before stepping away from you— a pained expression on his face.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. Come back,” you hurriedly say as your eyes fill with tears, watching him walk away into the dark street.

[withjaejae]

Hole-in-one | JJK

A day of golf goes better than expected despite being ditched by your bestfriend and spending the afternoon with your so-called rival.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

High society of sorts, Richie Rich type of wealth.

Warnings: Oral (m/f), sexual jokes, dig bick Jk, playful banter, unprotected sex, squirting, throat fucking, sexual tension, one-shot. (Did I miss something?)

A/N: I wanted to write more but I thought it ended ok. My knowledge on golf is based on Wii which I stopped playing a long time ago. So bear with me.

I have no way to know how long but enjoy.

Because some of you asked nicely

PART 2 PART3 PART4 PART 5 Complete

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You groan in frustration as you read Namjoon's text saying he left with the girl he met at the club lobby.

It was a nice sunny afternoon, perfect for golf. At least Namjoon was gonna fill holes either way and that irks you the most. He's had women, left and right, while you struggled with your types.

All you want was a man who shared the same things you like. Golf was your thing, Namjoon came for the women who thought they were stealing him from you. When in fact, Namjoon was your cousin/best friend.

"Alone today?" The attendant, Jean, always met you with a smile and your golf clubs.

"Yeah, unfortunately my cousin can't last a second without a mouth around his dick." Her face flushed a deep crimson. "No offense." Yup, she and Namjoon did it too.

"None taken, I'm over it." She shrugs and grabs the golf kart key from the shelf. "Shall we?"

"I think I wanna go solo today, Jean. Thanks." You take the key from her and she nods. She knows better than to say no to you.

Your custom lavender colored Kart waited for you, your initials in mettalic purple on the front. It was parked next to several other custom karts.

You arrived at your first course. A man was already standing there, setting up his own stuff. No caddie in sight, you notice his arms and very much know who he is. You look at the deep purple colored kart next to yours.

"No girls to fuck on this fine afternoon, Jeon?" You smirk as you step out of your kart.

He stands up straight at the sound of your voice, he doesn't need to turn around to know its you.

"I wondered why the birds stopped singing." He continues to set up his tee. "No dicks to suck?" He quips.

"I don't fuck on the weekends." You're unfazed having been bantering like this for about a year now.

"Oh look, we do have things in common." He calls 'fore' before swinging his club.

You both watched as the ball lands near the hole. Out of respect you clap your hands, that was a good swing.

"Namjoon?" He finally turns to look at you, his eyes rake over your legs, your skirt is too short for golfing and your top hugged you so well he could outline your tits.

"Found a poor soul in the lobby before he could even touch some grass." You snort and pull out your own driver and ball.

He steps back, clearly you both could use the company even if it meant mean retorts.

You take position, he doesn't even try to be subtle about oggling at your ass.

You and Jungkook are neighbors but you studied abroad for middle school and highschool. Why you chose to come home for college, you're not sure. But you and Jungkook are in senior year now and you have common friend groups but not really that close until...

A year ago, you finally joined your parents to the Jeon's hunting weekend, it was an annual thing. It was going smoothly for the most part but when you and Jungkook shot the same boar at the same time, that's when the mean comments started. It was a rivalry of sorts, one trying to become better than the other.

Contrary to what he said earlier, you have too many things in common being raised in high society.

You see each other all the time at sport events and even charities but nothing beyond those events.

To be here with him, without anyone else is a first. You both won't admit that you've been crushing on each other but your society knows there's tension between you two.

"Nice ass." He comments just as you swing. Your ball landing a bit far from the hole.

"You did that on purpose." You frown at him, he was already smirking with that cute bunny looking face, his nose scrunched up.

"I did. Now look, looks like you need two more strokes to make it." He snorts as he walks towards his kart and you groan as you follow him.

"Title of your sex tape." You comment under your breath, he laughs.

You both drive down the path towards the hole.

You study the distance of your ball to the hole and his distance. You can make it in one, if you're lucky.

He lines himself up.

"Nice ass." You say back as he swings and it goes right in. You roll your eyes.

"Two strokes." He winks and moves to stand next to you. Shoulders touching, suddenly it feels warmer.

You stop to feel the wind, you work on your angle and with one stroke, it goes in too.

"Impressive." He claps his hands too and you made a little curtsy. "Never thought you'd be this good at golf."

"You see me here all the time. Doesn't that make sense?" You take both balls from the hole.

Instead of putting the ball in his palm, you make a bold move of standing in front of him while slipping both in his pockets.

"There, now you have a pair of balls." You look up at him, for a second his eyes darkened but the smirk was back.

He leans down, lips nearly touching. "YN, if you wanted to touch my balls, all you need to do is ask."

Your cheeks feel hot and it doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook. But you never back down.

"I thought you didn't have any." You lean closer, one more move and your lips would be touching.

"I can show you right now." Your face moves back. "All talk and no walk, a shame." He stands up straight. "But if you want it so badly. When I do a hole in one, you be my caddie. And if you do a hole in one, I'll fuck your brains out."

You snort but can't help feel the rush of wetness from between your folds.

"You say that like fucking you is a prize." You step away from him. "The only hole you'll get to fill today are on the course. But..." You flip your hair to the side, a mischievous glint in your eye. "If you wanted to, all you have to do is ask."

"Oh? Then, YN, can I fuck your brains out?" Oh, he's bold. You roll your eyes and walk back to your Kart.

He follows you, with a grin plastered on his face.

"Are you scared you might actually like it?" You scoff and look at him. Your heartrate suddenly spiking.

"I'm afraid I might get disappointed." You start to feel hot. Its only been one course, if you go back now. Jean will definitely say something.

"Oh baby, I could live up to your gold standard. I am gold standard." He's cocky and arrogant but god it would be a lie to say you're not turned on.

"See you at the next course, Jeon." Your kart starts backing up and he rushes to follow you again.

You both arrive at the same time, this time at a more difficult course.

"The next course we should do is intercourse." He hasn't even reached you yet and he's already teasing.

"Shut up before someone hears you." You forcefully stick your tee on the ground.

"Why? Its not like we're both kids, plus nobody is around." He looks around, the next group of golfers are a hectare away.

You sigh and face him again. He loves riling you up, it was just playful banter before and now that you've entered this kind of teasing, he loves your reactions.

"Okay." You declare. His grin ceasing a bit, his eyebrows raised. "I'll tee first, if I do a hole in one, you get on your knees and..."

"Beg for your forgiveness? Princess I don't beg." He smirks again, he licks his lip piercing.

You step even closer, your tits touching his chest and he loves the feeling. "No, I want the golden boy to get on his knees and show me what that mouth can do other than tease." His throat runs dry.

Shit. "Is that supposed to be a punishment? You'd probably beg for more once I'm done." He kicks his leg, hopefully to free some space in his pants for his growing boner.

You hum. "Another thing we have in common, I don't beg." Lie, you always beg in bed.

"Deal. But if I make a hole in one, you're the one getting on your knees." He's confident. Given your 'punishments' aren't really punishments. He'd love to eat you out, but he won't tell you that.

But you know this course, you've hit holes in ones in this. Yout heart is beating loudly almost clouding your senses. Jungkook has a permanent teasing smirk on his face you'd like to kiss off.

Out of all the places you could have teased each other into fucking, you didn't expect it to be at the golf course.

"Don't worry princess, I'll be gentle... At first." He chuckles.

You take a deep breath and swing. You both watched the ball as it flies over the field. You bit your lip at it lands an inch away and it falls right in. Your hands fly in the air cheering for yourself.

"Are you this excited to have me eat you?" He was standing directly behind you, his warmth and scent engulfing you. "My turn."

You step away and wink at him. He takes a deep breath and swings. You both watch as it takes the same speed and the same arch and his ball lands the exact same way yours did. A hole in one for the both of you.

He turns to you with a satisfied grin.

"I hope your throat is ready for me princess." Your nerves are going haywire at his voice. Did it get lower?

You quietly head to your kart, you nod to the side, gesturing him to follow you and you drive away.

The thing with this club house is, both your parents are partial owners, hence you have access to the many rooms the place offers if you asked.

Lucky for you, you already planned on staying the night since it was a free weekend.

You barely parked properly, tossing the key to the valet. You meet Jean and you ask for a room key, she eyes you then behind you, sure enough Jeon Jungkook was standing there, watching your ass again.

She hands you the key card. No more words exchanged between you, sexual tension builds in its wake.

You head to the elevator and head to the third floor. The suites.

Your breathing is starting to get ragged as you feel the fragile tension inside the elevator. Jungkoom just stood there, eyes forward, hands in his pockets. He refrains from moving since this place had security camers and your neighborhood would have a field day if you fucked in the club elevators.

But all he can hear is his heartbeat, all he can smell is you, and all he can feel is the tightness in his pants.

He follows you down the hall, and you swipe the key card. The moment the two of you cross the threshold and the door securely locked. You turn to face him and his hands are already on you, pulling your face into feverish kiss. You moan into the kiss as he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his torso.

He takes you to the couch. He grins into the kiss.

"What?" You pull away, you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

"I was thinking who should get their prize first." His hand was on your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip. You take it into your mouth and suck on it. "fuck." He mumbles and his breath gets caught in his throat.

"Since I'm being generous." You get off him and get on your knees in front of him. "Wouldn't want to keep my goldben boy waiting." The way you called him yours made his heart skip a beat.

It was a joint effort to take his pants off. What he didn't expect was for you to take your top off, a sexy lace bra underneath it. Usually, you wear a sports bra but you didn't feel like it today. Now you know why.

He's huge. Your wetness growing in your panties. Eager to have him, you take a hold of his base and rub his dick over your face.

You moan and finally take him into your mouth. He hisses and moans.

His fingers weave through your hair. The way you look up at him as you take him deeper almost made him cum. Fuck, for years you basically ignored each other despite everyone teasing you about ending up together since your parents were basically best friends, had you known that his dick would fit perfectly in your mouth.

You moan around him, the vibrations sending Jungkook into pure bliss.

"Keep going." His head was thrown back as he moans loudly. "So fucking needy." You took him deeper to show him how needy you can become.

He takes your hands and places them on his thigh. "Double tap if you can't take it." You nod knowing what he'd do next. He did say he'd be gentle at first.

He weaves both hands into your hair this time and fucked your throat. Your tears and drool flow freely, you look like a fucking porn star and Jungkook loves it. You're taking him so well he moans out loudly.

"I'm gonna fucking cum down your throat." He forces his words out and you simply take in his thrusts. With one last shove he shoots his load down your throat, you swallow around him. "Holy fucking shit, where the hell have you been all my life." His breathing was ragged as you pull off him, grinning like the slut you are. "Who knew that a princess like you loved to be treated like a whore, my whore."

He makes you stand up, you use your shirt to wipe off the drool, you avoid your tears that made makeup run down your cheeks, that's going to stain.

Jungkook kisses your pelvis as he rids you of your skort. The lace thong that matches your bra peek through and he's starting to get hard again.

He takes off his shirt and pulls you down for you to land over his shoulder. He stood up like you weigh nothing, you shriek and giggle at the way he's handling you.

He literally throws you onto the bed, but the way you landed seemed so graceful in Jungkook's eyes. So pretty, so delicate, like you were made of porcelain with the sex drive of a succubus.

His eyes were glassy, hazed from the mindblowing head he received. Crawling towards you as you scoot up to the headboard.

"Time for your prize princess." He uses his teeth to pull down your thong and expertly unclasping your bra.

"I better get my money's worth, Mr. Gold standard." He captures your lips in his before slowly kissing down on your skin, your eyes roll to the back of your head as he finds the sweet spot near your clavicle.

Your scent is addicting, what he'd give to get a taste of you everyday. He can make that happen, he will make that happen.

After all, high society is all about marrying each other to keep the weath from seeping out of your grasp. He's hypnotized by the way your chest rises and falls as he inches towards your needy pussy.

You've lost it the moment his tongue comes in contact with your folds. He wastes no time devouring you, you sound so good.

This is bad, so bad that he hasn't even fucked you properly and he already wants to marry you. Keep you close because nobody else should see what he's looking at right now.

His tongue works wonders, lips sucking on ever inch. You were chanting his name like it was a prayer. "Holy fuck baby." The petname sounds so nice coming from you.

It wasn't long until your moans become more high-pitched as you fuck yourself on his tongue. What threw you over the edge were the two fingers he inserted. You were squirting all over his face, your body shaking like a leaf.

"That was hot." He smirks up at you, putting both hands on your face as you tried to control your breathing. "You okay?" He moves up to hover over you, prying your hands away.

"I've never... I—I haven't..." Squirted but you can't seem to say it. Jungkook captures your lips again, you taste yourself.

"I'm honored, princess." He teases and you blush. How can he make you feel giddy when you literally just came all over his face.

Something inside you tell you that you'll never find another man who can make you feel like this, who can make you cum like that. No, you need this everyday.

"Jungkook." You reach down towards his erection. "I want you to fuck my brains out." Referring to your earlier conversations.

"Fuck yes baby." He dives in to kiss you with much more need than the previous one.

The tip of his head was rubbing against your opening, he was waiting for you to protest and ask him to wrap it up but you dig your heels on his ass instead.

"Fuck me." Your fingers scrape through his hair. "Please, baby." He chuckles.

"I thought you didn't beg?" He finally pushes in you, your mouth falls open but you don't make a sound other than a small squeak. "You're made for my cock. So fucking tight." He grunts.

You start begging him to go faster and harder, Jungkook happily obliges. With your thighs thrown over his shoulder, his hand wrapped around your throat, he could get used to this. You feel so good and he wasn't holding back from telling you what a good whore you are.

He lifts your ass up just a little hitting you at an angle you never knew felt so fucking good you're cumming again.

He fucks you, over and over. One orgasm after the other, you've lost count of how many. It wasn't until he spills his load all over your tits that he finally collapses next to you.

After care be damned, you both fall asleep in each other's arms covered in cum.

Your phones ring at the same time. 6pm sharp.

"Hey dad." He groans into the phone.

"Mom." You pick up your own phone.

Legs still tangled around each other as you both spoke to your parents. You both answer the same thing.

"Let me guess, dinner?" Jungkook tosses his phone on the night stand as you lay yours gently.

"Yeah, at your place." You mumble. "I think we passed out." You giggle.

"Fuck yeah we did." His bunny toothed smile. "Wanna shower together?"

With your body aching like crazy you decide to shower here. The warm bath helping you recover, of course you two fucked again.

He drops you off at your house before parking his car at their mansion next door. He waves at you as you both enter the house.

Your mom was standing by the window with a huge grin on her face.

"Did Jungkook drop you off? I though you weren't close like that?" She asks as you step up the stairs.

"Yeah, but we... We went golfing today. It was fun." You smile, and your mom simply nodded.

It was more than fun. It was definitely gold standard. The best hole in one you've had.

-----------

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 (Complete)

[luvvyouforever]

headcanons : harry potter boys x keeper!reader

↳ harry, ron, draco, neville, fred, george, remus, and sirius with a partner who can wield ancient magic (hogwarts legacy style).

↳ requests are open! submit ideas, drabbles, headcanons, or one shots to the link in my bio! don’t be shy <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

harry potter:

-thinks it is the coolest shit ever! when you're in a fight together and you protect him by shooting a powerful blue bolt towards the enemy that disintegrates their very beginning, he feels so proud to be your partner!

-on the other side, he also knows it feels like to have a lot of pressure and power on your side. he worries about what it must feel like to wield ancient magic and be the only living person who can see it. every time you use it, he checks on you after, ensuring that you don't feel too exhausted and can continue fighting.

-supported you so much through the trials. he didn't need to know every detail of what you did and went through but he would hold you so tight when you came back, praising you over and over for being so strong and brave.

ron weasley:

-he's a little jealous, ngl. like his partner can use this sick magic and is responsible for keeping the magic safe and alive out of the wrong hands?? why can't he do that???

-i also feel like ron would be confused, if not a little angry, that you refuse to share the power and attempt what others have before (such as isidora using the magic to remove pain). he doesn't really understand the problem and feels like the keepers are suspicious.

-he'd brag about you alllllll the time though! like oh my god every second he would find some way to bring up the fact that you can do really awesome things and that you are his awesome partner forever!

draco malfoy:

-draco loves you a lot and finds your magic incredibly cool, don't get me wrong, but i think his family swayed his pursuit of you because wouldn't it be so grand if the malfoys had a keeper in their family? someone so powerful and knowledgeable? who would pass down the truth and their magic? yes please! (every time narcissa brings it up, it irks draco but also he pats himself on the shoulder for choosing you)

-wants to know every detail about the trials and the past and the memories you're viewing! you'll come back from a trial, sweaty and tired, maybe bleeding, and he'd help you first then ask hundreds of questions after.

-your use of ancient magic is not necessarily unknown and makes you quite popular among the students of hogwarts. this, however, makes draco really jealous. if he could, he would follow you everywhere, glaring down anyone who tries to make a move on you. before you go on adventures, classes, or just to the common room, he'll drape you in his slytherin scarf as if he was marking you.

neville longbottom:

-poor thing gets so nervous when you have to complete the trials or do something incredibly important for the sake of keeping the magic safe. he knows he can't go along with you but he'd stay by your side until the very moment you enter the map chamber, whispering praises and support the whole time.

-would heal up all your wounds and take care of you if you exerted too much during a fight. he knows how much everyone depends on you and the least he can do is take care of you properly! he would run you a bath, apply soothing balms to your skin or use his plants to heal you up, and cuddle you tightly!

-tries his hardest to not feel useless but sometimes it's hard when you're so strong and he's so...not. of course you'll always reassure him and give him the confidence he needs but very frequently, he gets really down on himself about it.

fred weasley:

-every day he comes to you with a new scheme that involves your magic. could you make a portal that leads from the dungeons of hogwarts to the top of the astronomy tower? it's important. snape is gonna get really mad when he goes into his office? can your magic fix that?

-begs, and i mean BEGS, you to let him come along on your adventures and battles. he wants nothing more than to support you and fight along your side! as long it's not a trial, you can't help but let him come along. you usually end up saving him after he pays a little more attention to the way your whip around the battle, taking down everyone effortlessly.

-speaking of paying too much attention to you, he thinks it is so attractive than you can do what you do! he gives you some time after fighting to recuperate but then immediately he is ON you. he's kissing you and telling you how hot it is when you turn someone to just particles.

george weasley:

-he wants you to teach him everything you can. there are some things that are just simply innate and can not be taught but all your tips and tricks when it comes to fighting will now be all of his tips and tricks. you two would just find some field away from the burrow and go at it, sending spell after spell at each other. georgie is just overflowing with adrenaline and it's a great way to get it out.

-deep down, a part of him wants to be protective of you. he wants to keep you from going out into danger and taking on dangerous tasks all for magic and some old people telling you what to do. but he knows better, trust me. he knows you can defend yourself just fine but he just wants to put you in a little bubble and never let anything hurt you.

-just like ron, he will brag about you whenever he can. everyone is sitting around the great hall table, talking about how it's so cool that you defeated a troll in one fell swoop and he just wraps his arm around your shoulders, a glimmer in his eye as he proceeds to say "yeah, aren't they just so amazing?"

remus lupin:

-fears for your health and safety so much! when you come back from a trial, he's hushing you and putting you in bed, feeding you chocolate and brewing tea until you feel better!! you are bearing the weight of centuries old magic all alone. the least he can do is take care of you!

-supports your decisions throughout your entire journey as a keeper. if you truly believe that releasing ancient magic to the world and using it for more than the original keepers intended, then he understands. if you want to continue to keep it hidden, he will not question your judgement.

-this is so fluffy but i feel like you figured out how to manipulate your ancient magic to floating, bright blue scenes and pictures. around remus's time of the month (said lovingly), you'll lay in bed with him and use your wand to paint pictures of animals, lakes, waves, stars, or, in more sappy moments, your future.

sirius black:

-he thinks it is SO hot that you can take someone down without barely blinking an eye. his favorite move you do is when you lift someone into the air and slam them down repeatedly. gets blushy and turned on excited every time.

-once followed you down into the map chamber only to be very harshly yelled at by one of the keeper's portraits. he just wanted to see what it looked like and to know where you go on dangerous missions!! who can blame him, truly? definitely grumbled the whole rest of the day.

-when you two get married, he refuses to let you take his last name and instead will either take yours or say screw it and come up with one! he doesn't want his family to have the gratification of having a keeper with the black family name. he wants you to shine for who you are and in another century, he wants your name to be yours, not his.

[v3nomly]

— HOW THEY REACT TO SOMEONE HITTING ON YOU

• characters — Childe ; Zhongli ; Wanderer | Aventurine ; Welt ; Blade

• synopsis — An unsuspecting guy hits on you. it doesn’t take long for your partner to swoop in and shut it down.

• tags & warnings — Established relationship, jealousy, kissing.

• a/n — Hihi!! My requests are open so feel free to pop in. I write for a couple fandoms and I'm always looking for moots. Enjoy!!

Writing Catalog

— THOSE WHO FLAUNT ; CHILDE or AVENTURINE

Before you can even shut the guy down yourself, an arm snakes around your waist, pulling you away from the man trying to shoot his shot and into the arms of your lover. It wasn’t unusual for them to be overly affectionate in public, but something about their hold tells you this is more than a loving embrace, but an assertion of dominance. 

“Sorry, I took so long, Angel. Didn’t miss me too much, did you?” They ask, leaving no room for you to answer as their lips press against your own. The action spoke louder than any words could. You were his. 

The man across from you cleared his throat uncomfortably, causing your partner to pull away reluctantly. Their body relaxed against yours, exuding an air of nonchalance, “Did you need something?”

— THOSE WHO SEETHE ; WANDERER or BLADE

How could you be so oblivious? The man's desperate attempts at seduction were evident, yet you remained blissfully unaware. Conflicted feelings coursed through your lover’s veins. On one hand, there was something almost comical about the scene. If it were anyone else, your partner may have been able to laugh at the man’s pathetic nature. Yet, it was you, which only left them with the bitter taste of ire. How dare this man think he’s deserving of your attention?

Anger radiated from behind you, something you remained ignorant of. Your boyfriend leveled a glare at the man who seemed to be just as oblivious as yourself. Until their eyes met. The man stilled, words dying in his throat, face paling as he swallowed quickly, before excusing himself. You turn towards your partner with a look of confusion and they only shrug, their eyes filled with nothing but the gentle love reserved only for you. 

— THOSE WHO REDIRECT ; ZHONGLI or WELT

They weren’t the jealous type. Years of experience and wisdom had taught them certain things were better let go. Yet they couldn’t help the uncomfortable feeling that snaked up their spine, engulfing them in its vexatious nature. Networking was an important part of your job, something he had witnessed you do countless times before, but this man irked him to his core. 

Your lover’s hand comes to rest against the small of your back, grabbing your attention, and pulling your eyes away from the man you were conversing with. Covertly they take control of the conversation, steering it away from the man’s obnoxious attempts at wooing you, and into one that keeps your eyes on him. He can’t help the satisfaction that rises in his chest as the man deflates at the casual display of intimacy. Or the way pride flutters in his body when you smile at him. Your partner wasn’t the jealous type, but he could be. 

© 2024 v3nomly do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing to any other site.

[neeeooon]

How would Blue Lock guys react to their S/O having a stalker? And how would they "deal" with it? I want my protective boys

MY FIRST REQUEST TYSMMMM idk which guys so i used the wheel lol i hope you enjoy!! lmk if you want a part 2 for anyone i missed 🫶🤍

when you have a stalker ;

bf blue lock x gn!reader. some sections may be unsettling (still sfw)!

itoshi rin

-> rin has never been a fan of pda. he loves it when you play with his fingers and hold his hands when you’re together, but never in public. he never felt the need to be "protective" until recently

-> the two of you were at the beach when you suddenly noticed someone following you. usually, you wouldn't pay it much mind, but something about this guy irked you

-> you pulled gently on rin's arm to get his attention and subtly nodded your head in the guy's direction. "he's been following us since the shop. it's really freaking me out..." you were a bit embarrassed to admit it, but rin didn't blow you off or belittle you

-> to your surprise, rin shot the man a glare while tossing a lazy arm around your shoulder. you'd been expecting simple words of comfort, not pda

-> you tried not to enjoy the feeling of your boyfriend's arm around you since you could tell he wasn't comfortable. still, the fact that he was willing to do this for you made you smile at him lovingly

-> "is he gone?" rin asked after a minute, but kept you in his grasp even after you said yes. you smiled to yourself when he let you snuggle into his side without complaint

bachira meguru

-> he noticed something was off before you did, which he found slightly concerning

-> you'd been so distracted with work and school that you never realized the man constantly hanging out in your peripheral until bachira's grip tightened on your hand one day

-> "that's the same guy from the park, right?" you looked back at bachira's observation and frowned. "weird... he looks oddly familiar. i think i've seen him before."

-> that freaked him out (thankfully), and bachira made sure to stay close to you and go out of his way to make sure you weren't doing anything alone while you were in public

-> "aren't you being a bit overprotective?" "nope! you have a weirdo stalker, y/n. i'm gonna protect you!" "stalker? like raichi?" bachira just sighed.

-> he never had to physically intervene since the man never got too close, but his lingering presence was starting to weigh on you. finally, bachira had enough and gently pinched your cheek before approaching the man

-> you don't know what was said, but the man stumbled out of his seat and darted off after a few seconds of listening to bachira. "what did you say?" you asked when he returned. bachira feigned a look of innocence and shrugged. "funny. i can't remember!" but whatever he said worked, because you never saw the guy again

kunigami rensuke

-> you were paying for some skittles for your movie date with kunigami when a man at the register beside you quickly handed his card to your cashier. you blinked at the odd interaction and looked up to see him grinning at you rather awkwardly

-> “sorry, i should have asked if it was okay before just paying for you like that…” he seemed genuine enough, so you shook your hands out and grabbed your skittles. “no, that’s okay! thank you so much. you really didn’t have to, though!”

-> he introduced himself to you and started telling you a bit about himself. since he bought your skittles, you felt bad for ditching him, but your boyfriend was waiting on you and you could practically feel his gaze on your back

-> “hah, that’s so cool! look, i’m really sorry, but—“ “oh, no worries! i'll see you again, y/n." he was still smiling, but yours suddenly dropped. you never gave him your name

-> you immediately took a step back, and it was clear by the sudden shift in his expression that you had made a mistake

-> he threw a hand securely over your mouth and began pulling you to the exit, but before he could take you far, you heard your boyfriend yelling your name

-> the guy freaked out and dropped you, but security went after him as kunigami fell to your side. "what the hell?! i was.. are you hurt?"

-> you were a bit shaken up and had a little scratch on your cheek, but you were fine. you had to drag kunigami away with you when he saw the cut on your face and made him promise to drop it for your sake

karasu tabito

-> you'd been getting cryptic messages for weeks to the point where karasu was at your back every time your phone dinged. you'd tried to go to the police about it, but they said no actual harm had been done, so there was nothing they could do

-> you were out shopping with karasu when he stepped away to return something. as you were sifting through shirts, this random guy approached you and started talking as if you were friends

-> you awkwardly smiled to be polite, internally panicking when you realized the way he spoke reminded you of the creepy texts you were getting

-> when he asked if you wanted to leave with him, you stepped away and told him that your boyfriend was "right over there." you could tell that the guy was getting frustrated and even had the nerve to place a hand on your shoulder before he was suddenly pulled away

-> you couldn’t hear what was exchanged, but you saw how tense karasu’s shoulders were and how quickly the guy scampered off

-> "was that him?" he asked before taking your face in his hands and checking you for any damage. "are you okay?"

-> you nodded and forced yourself to stop shaking. "i think so. i'm okay, i just want to leave." you slowly pulled your phone from your bag, which had been recording the entire incident. "think this counts as enough evidence?"

-> he kept an arm securely around your waist and didn't let go until you were back in the safety of your home with your restraining order in hand

itoshi sae

-> he can ignore many things, but anything surrounding you or your well-being? absolutely not

-> he was in spain for work when you told him about the creepy feelings you were getting at your job. like someone was watching you during the last hour or so of your shift

-> since he couldn't be there with you for another few days, sae tried to think logically and keep you calm. meanwhile, he was texting your boss to make sure someone would walk you to your car every night

-> his flight home was originally scheduled for a saturday, but sae had this sinking feeling in his gut and was able to catch an earlier flight. the first thing he did when he landed was go straight to your workplace to see you

-> he hastily pulled into a parking spot when you didn't answer his call and asked your co-worker where you were. he found you out back, cornered by a large, creepy man. "i said no! i have a boyfriend, go away!"

-> sae stepped forward and grabbed the guy by the hair to pull his face out of your personal space. "the fuck? who are you?!" "the boyfriend." sae nodded his head to you, and you kicked the man as hard as you could between the legs

-> you immediately stepped over him and into your boyfriend's open arms. "you're home early!" "i had a bad feeling." though you were able to protect yourself, you were eternally grateful that sae was there by your side

shidou ryusei

-> he’s too confident to get jealous, but with that said, he can be a tad overly protective of you

-> shidou's with you all the time. always touching you, whispering things in your ear, playing with your hair, basically doing everything in his power to be near you when you're together

-> if anything, he made your stalker work extra hard to get you alone since he had to orchestrate a grand scheme just to get shidou away from you, even if it was only for a minute

-> it worked, though. you were enjoying a day at the mall together when you asked your boyfriend to hold your bag so you could run to the restroom. while he had his back turned, as if daring anyone to try and steal your bag from him, your stalker followed you

-> you nearly pissed yourself when someone grabbed you by the arm and tried to shove you into an 'employees only' closet. the guy got one good tug on your shirt sleeve before he was shoved off

-> you were reminded of how protective your boyfriend is when he straddled the guy and punched him until his knuckles bleed. you didn't stop him

-> when shidou was done "defending your honor" he wiped his hand on his pants before fixing your shirt and nudging your cheek with his finger. "you alright there, darling?" you nodded and hugged his arm. "i am now."

part 2

[laenordeservedbetter]

My Way

Words: 6.7k

Pairing: Modern!Rhaenyra Targaryen x Fem!Hightower Reader

Synopsis: Rhaenyra wants a scandal. You want to get back at your father. What happens when Laena brings the two of you together?

Warnings: Otto Hightower, Criston Cole (this one-shot is not Criston Cole friendly, I'm sorry), mentions of assault, cursing, inaccurate business jargon, self-deprecating thoughts, drinking. [Let me know if I missed any.]

masterlist || previous work

—

“What did you say to Jackie?” You seethe, slamming your fists onto your father’s desk.

“Nothing, my dear. Why? Did something happen?” He questions, briefly glancing at his lackey, Larys, prior to meeting your gaze smugly.

You could feel the sting in your palms from clenching your fists, but you paid no heed to it. Despite your figure towering over him, Otto remained in his seat as if your outburst was merely entertainment for him, fueling your ire. “You know what you did.” You spat.

“If you are referring to your companion’s refusal to return your calls, you must know that I played no hand in that.” Otto says calmly.

You regarded him with a look of disbelief. The earliest occurrence you could recollect that is akin to your current situation was when you went on your first date. You believed that it was your fault dear Tabitha ran for the hills. You were inconsolable for weeks on end until your older brother, Gwayne, informed you of your father’s… meddling. You know not of the details of the transaction between Tabitha and your father, but you did notice how luxurious Tabitha’s life became through her online feed that you definitely did not go through every single day for an entire rotation. Numerous incidents succeeded the first to the point where you could not recall the exact number. Now, your date, Jackie, the daughter of one of your father’s associates, has been denying your calls after drawing up plans to get dinner together. You knew that your father was responsible.

“Maybe Jacqueline has seen reason.” Otto offers, interlocking his hands together as he leaned against his chair. “It’s about time you do the same, daughter.”

“I am being reasonable. You can’t keep meddling in my affairs like I’m some toddler.” You argue.

“I will stop meddling in your affairs once you start pulling your act together.” Otto retorts.

Taking a deep breath, you will yourself to keep calm. As calm as you can manage, of course. “And how do you suppose I do that, hm? By marrying one of your senile friends?”

You could tell the insult irked him by the way he blinked twice whilst keeping a smirk on his face, bringing you a semblance of triumph.

“No, but now that you mention it, I do have a list of eligible bachelors that are interested in you. Perhaps you should take a look.” He pushes a stack of papers towards you.

It dawned on you that he had it prepared before you stomped your way into his office. He anticipated your arrival, which meant that you played right into his game. You smile mockingly at him, accepting the papers. Otto smiled back, believing that he somehow managed to get through to you. However, his self-satisfaction melted once you flung the papers into the trash bin before walking out of his office.

-

Rhaenyra rolls her eyes at her phone before tossing it to Daemon, “Read.” She orders, her tone leaving no room for discussion.

Daemon, although stunned at the abrupt shift in Rhaenyra’s expression, catches the phone with ease. Sighing, he goes on to read the headline of the recent article centered on their family’s —or his— wrongdoing.

“From Genius Turned Mad Man: Daemon Targaryen Assaults Criston Cole in Broad Daylight”

“Well, this article is overexaggerated.” Daemon jibes after reading the entirety of the article. “I barely touched him.” He flops down on the couch, throwing the phone in the air and catching it (barely). Despite Rhaenyra’s strong glare, he repeats the movement until his niece breaks the silence.

“The media is in a frenzy.” Rhaenyra points out. “A few Criston Cole ‘defenders’ on social media are demanding that you be put in jail,” She states, her tone growing louder as she speaks each reaction. “The Baratheons plan to back out on their investment, father is under severe stress that goes beyond planning the company’s annual party, and news outlets are questioning Baela and Rhaena’s safety with you as a father.”

The last information brings Daemon back to his senses. He sits up swiftly, Rhaenyra’s phone landing on his head. Daemon grasps the phone furiously, flinging it across the room. Rhaenyra doesn’t spare her presumably dead phone a glance as she continues looking at Daemon and his sour expression. He had a right to be angry, she thought. But he did bring this upon himself.

“How dare they include my children.” Daemon raves.

“They’re just looking for any excuse to attack our family.” Rhaenyra utters gently.

“Did they even look into the bigger picture?”

“They never do.”

“That whore deserved it.”

Rhaenyra nods, “Perhaps he did.”

Daemon raises an eyebrow, as if challenging her to say more. “But?”

“But… what’s done is done. Our problem now is how we can fix this.”

Daemon opens his mouth to speak before realizing that it was no use trying to instigate a fight with Rhaenyra. She is not the object of his ire, after all. With a sigh, he looks at Rhaenyra expectantly. His niece has gotten the family out of precarious situations multiple times and was exceptional at it. Daemon would think Rhaenyra was suited in PR if he didn’t believe that she was destined for greater things.

“What is that look about?”

“Give me solutions and I will follow them.” Daemon shrugs.

Rhaenyra contemplates his words for a moment before ultimately saying, “No.”

Daemon scoffs, “No?”

“You got yourself into this mess, you get yourself out of it.” Rhaenyra says unwaveringly. She was exhausted of Daemon’s antics and having to clean up after his messes. It was time for him to handle the consequences of his own choices without being coddled. He gets enough of that from Viserys, thank you very much.

Daemon’s jaw clenches, disapproving of Rhaenyra’s denial.

“Well?” Rhaenyra looks on expectantly.

“I suppose I could think of two ideas.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“The first one is,” Daemon exhales theatrically, the thought being enough to make him want to hurl himself off the building. “publicly apologizing to Criston and vowing to never do it again, as well as to right my wrongs.” Rhaenyra and Daemon scrunch their faces at the suggestion, for the both of them knew that action would contradict Daemon’s entire being.

“And the second?”

Daemon gives Rhaenyra a sly grin.

“Create a bigger scandal that would make this one look like child’s play.”

Rhaenyra lets out a laugh, mirroring Daemon’s expression. “Now that, I can get behind.”

-

One thing you loved more than gossip was Laena Velaryon. Your friendship began through the business transaction between your father and Corlys Velaryon. You were brought to the office by your father, who thought it was a fine idea to acquaint you with Corlys’ son, Laenor. To his astonishment, you and Laenor got along quite well. However, it was Laena you were drawn towards. You were two peas in a pod. Both of you had a knack for defying your fathers’ wishes and visiting unrenowned coffee shops. Though, the purpose of your visits was more about escaping the scrutiny of the public (and by extension, your families) than actual coffee.

You’re in one of your favorite shops, drinking coffee with Laena that you actually enjoy. The ambience was remarkable. The place was always clean, the staff were nice, and there were booths that acted like little houses with curtains that could obscure you from the other people inside the café. It was another quiet day, which was alarming. It’s been like that for weeks now.

Lyman, the owner, opened the curtains with one hand and a tray of lemon cakes in his other. He places it on the table between you and Laena carefully, “Here you go, girls.” He says, offering both of you a smile.

It was a strange sight. For as long as you’ve been visiting the shop, Dyana has been the one to serve you. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen the girl since entering the place. Curiosity gets the better of you, prompting your question, “Is Dyana not working today?”

You wish you hadn’t asked.

Lyman’s smile falters. “We had to let her go.” He explains, “Business hasn’t been that good lately. It’s just me and Sandra now. If this keeps up, we’ll have to close the shop.” He says, his gaze on the counter.

You and Laena share a look, as if having a silent agreement.

“But don’t worry, girls.” Lyman smiles once more, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “If the shop closes, I’ll give you my lemon cake recipe so you could have it anytime you want.”

“Lyman…” Laena starts.

Lyman waves her off. “It’s alright now, Laena. Sandra and I will be okay.” He winks before leaving to go back to the counter.

Laena sighs, shaking her head. “Tell me what your dad did again.” She requests, focusing on your problem for now. If you offer Lyman help directly, he wouldn’t accept it. Better to address the issue without him knowing.

“Influenced Jackie to refuse taking my calls, then handed me a stack of names of eligible bachelors interested in me.” You frown, “I wish he would just stop messing with my life, you know? Every time I think I’m close to being happy, he rips it from me. I couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t attempt to use me for his own gain. He sucks the life out of everyone who loves him and it’s so exhausting.”

Laena looks at you sympathetically, feeding you a portion of lemon cake. She waits for you to finish eating before asking, “So, what do you want to do?”

“I want to get back at him.” You mirror Laena’s earlier actions, giving her a bite of the lemon cake. She shoots you a knowing look which you disregard by finishing your coffee, looking away from her.

“Among all your attempts at getting back at your father, which one has worked?” Laena questions rhetorically. Seeing your discomfited look, your friend pushes you further. “You need to take your goal seriously, not just doing things that he can simply brush off. If you want to get back at him, do something that will really leave him unconsolable for a long period of time.”

“Like a scandal?”

Laena raises a brow, “What kind?”

“I don’t know, like… Targeting his favorite business associates on Twitter, spread nasty rumors about our own company, go out with someone he despises or go on a date with someone older than him, spend a large amount of money on a shitty private jet, give people raises without consulting him...”

Laena ponders your ideas, playing out possible scenarios in her head. Your brows furrow, her words to you a couple days prior ringing in your ears.

I am a visionary, Hightower.

She gasps, gripping your arm firmly, the sudden movement jolting you forward.

“Have you met my cousin Rhaenyra?”

-

“You’re going to take a Hightower as a date to the biggest party of the year? Have you gone mad?” Daemon clenches his jaw, scowling. Laena stood beside him, rolling her eyes at his frenzy of rage. “Do you have any idea how long that family has been plotting against ours?”

Rhaenyra shrugs.

“Since the beginning of time, Rhaenyra!” Daemon answers himself, scandalized at Rhaenyra’s impassiveness. She was going to defy centuries-old rivalry by bringing a Hightower to the Targaryen company’s annual party. Not to mention that Rhaenyra’s date is one of Otto Hightower’s children, making the circumstances worse. Oh, how Daemon hated that cunt. His greed knew no bounds and neither did his ambition. If Daemon had not stepped in, Otto’s quest for power might have dented their family. And now Rhaenyra plans to step on his efforts. Daemon’s hard work will be all for naught. “This would ruin our family’s reputation.” He states, matter-of-factly.

“No, it wouldn’t.” Laena murmurs.

Daemon stares her down.

“Uncle,” Rhaenyra interjects, remaining practical. “This is the scandal we were looking for.”

“This wasn’t what I had in mind.” The silver-haired man expresses.

Rhaenyra regards him for a moment, trying to see the situation from her uncle’s point of view. The Hightowers, second only to the Targaryen business dynasty, are their major rivals. Otto Hightower, the CEO, has been doing everything and anything he can to usurp the title of the biggest conglomerate in Westeros. He came close to achieving his plans once upon a time. Daemon had done something to stop him, but the Targaryens did not come out of the battle unscathed. It took years to bring back the shareholders’ trust and improve their defenses. Getting close to a Hightower would be a suicide mission. Rhaenyra’s date might try to earn her trust in order to achieve her true goal: to gather information on the enemy.

But, as it stands, the Targaryens are grilled by the masses due to Daemon’s recent altercation with Criston Cole. Additionally, the Baratheons refused to move forward with their investment, disliking the idea of their business being affected because they are associated with the Targaryens. Rhaenyra has to resolve this conflict before permanent damage is done. Being associated with a Hightower may do just that.

“Our stocks are plummeting because of your dispute with that Dornish boy. Criston works for Otto. Taking a Hightower to the party would be a power play. It will appear as an alliance between our conglomerates. A truce, if you will.”

The words cause the gears in Daemon’s head to turn. The act would indeed serve as a silent agreement between the families. Cole would be humiliated, which was an added bonus. The company he’s working for humbling him by brokering a deal with the family of the person who destroyed his nose. It will be quite the spectacle. But something wasn’t quite adding up.

“Why would the Hightowers agree to such a thing?” He asks. “Cole has been working for them for a long time now. He’s practically an honorary Hightower. Why insult him through an alliance with us?”

Laena speaks up, smiling sheepishly, “Here’s the thing…” She chuckles nervously, “We’re not… exactly… brokering a deal with all the Hightowers.”

“Just one.” Rhaenyra elucidates.

“What do you mean?”

“It’d be better if she explains it herself.” Says Laena.

Daemon purses his lips, his patience wearing thin. “Who’s ‘she’?”

As if on cue, you enter the room, everyone turning their attention to you. “Apologies for my tardiness.” You say guiltily, freeing your hair from the dark hoodie you were wearing. “I had to get past security.” As you remove your sunglasses, Daemon moves towards you like a predator stalking his prey. You meet his gaze, annoyance shortly crossing your features. “Daemon, is it?”

He doesn’t blink.

You don’t let his coolness perturb you. That’s just how Daemon is, Laena once said when she was talking about her family. He seemed…. Not nice, exactly… But he wasn’t giving you any indication that he was going to punch your face, so it’s something, right?

“I’m Y/n Hightower.”

“Hm.”

Your eyebrows raise in disbelief. You’d think that he’d offer more words based on the way he seemed intent on standing before you. “Right.” You sigh, moving past him to greet Rhaenyra.

The heir to the Targaryen dynasty was clad in grey suit and pants, her tie loose. Rhaenyra welcomes you with a warm smile, ushering you towards the couch. “Please. Sit,” She instructs, waiting until you’ve taken a seat to offer you light refreshments. It hits you suddenly that she was just as nervous as you were, easing your nerves to some extent.

“Lemon cake?” Your eyes light up upon sighting the delicacy, meeting Rhaenyra’s gaze.

She looked flabbergasted that that was the first dessert you turned your attention towards. “Would you like some?” Rhaenyra offers you the plate with a spoon. She knew beforehand that you had a liking for lemon cakes because of Laena’s recent Instagram post. (You and Laena took a photo of you eating lemon cakes, the name of the café plastered on the background.) However, it did little to help her hide the astonishment she felt as she watched you take the cake from her hands eagerly.

Daemon regarded you with thinly veiled disgust. A bug within his family’s premises. Look at you, eating cake and making yourself at home while Rhaenyra is made to play the role of welcoming host. His niece was a willing participant, of course, but that did not make the thought easier to swallow.

You ignore his glare until you could no longer bear it. “Is something the matter, Daemon?”

“Out of all your siblings, why are you the one making a deal with us in behalf of your family?” was his query.

“None of them know I’m here.” You state impassively, passing the plate to Rhaenyra, who fixates on how meticulously the slice of cake was cut in half. It was an impressive feat, bearing in mind that you weren’t using a knife. “Eat.” You murmur to her while resuming your staring match with Daemon.

“Why not?” Daemon scowls.

“I’m doing this behind their back.”

“Why?”

“I want to piss my father off.”

Enthralled by your words, Daemon (at long last) displays an emotion other than disdain, “And why is that?” He tilts his head. Maybe you weren’t as boring as he thought.

“Must there be a reason for wanting to anger him?”

“For me? No. For you? Yes.” Daemon says bluntly, “You’re his daughter. He must have done something unforgivable for you to turn to the enemy.”

“‘Enemy’ is exaggerating it, but alright.”

You tell the three other people present in the room about your frustration with Otto, not leaving anything out. You tell them about the meddling, the lengths he went to in order to cover up your failed romances, the list of eligible suitors, how Otto continues to undermine your hard work, and the rest of the sordid details that even Laena wasn’t aware of. By the end of your report, Daemon was stupefied.

If he didn’t have any more reason to despise Otto Hightower, he surely does now. Otto was despicable in business, but Daemon never thought that he would be the same with his children. Does this man hold no love for anything other than power?

“Your father is a cunt.” says Daemon.

Rhaenyra and Laena gasp at his crassness. He really said those words in front of you, Otto’s daughter. While you might not have the best relationship with your father, it must be grating to have others speak about him in a bad light, the two women think.

You nod, agreeing with Daemon’s words. “I suppose that’s one way to put it.”

The two Targaryen women lock eyes, shrugging.

“The party is in a week, correct?” You ask to confirm the details.

Rhaenyra shakes her head in affirmation. “Yes. The Hightowers are invited, as always,” Even though your families were at “war” with each other, there was still a place for your family in the Targaryen annual parties. You believed that it was Rhaenyra’s strategy.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

“—But you will be arriving the party with me.” Rhaenyra continues, analyzing your expression. “We have to arrive late, in the middle of my uncle’s speech.”

“Quite the dramatic entrance.” You murmur, a smile gracing your lips. “I like you already, Targaryen.”

Rhaenyra grins triumphantly in response.

You spend the rest of the evening planning out your actions for the party. Daemon continued treating you with apprehension, though he was less insufferable about it. Thank the Seven. Rhaenyra proved to be a pleasant company, assuring you that you would never have a boring moment in the event. The party would last for eight hours, beginning at four p.m. sharp. Every important person you could think of will be there, all the more reason why you and Rhaenyra need to make sure that this would be the biggest scandal of the month.

You just hope that it will drive your father mad.

-

The day of the party rolls around and you are bubbling with anticipation and anxiety. You and Rhaenyra have been texting each other back and forth about the chaos that would ensue in just a few hours. As you read her recent message, you find yourself grinning at the kitchen table, giddy with excitement for what was to come.

“Ooh, what’s that?” Gwayne speaks from behind you, grabbing your phone. The shock gives you no time to react, your older brother scrolling through the messages. “Who’s ‘R’?” He stretches his arm, holding the phone above his head, and standing on his tiptoes to ensure you wouldn’t be able to reach him. “You have plans tonight?”

Letting your impulse take over, you punch his shoulder, causing him to drop your phone from his hand. Gwayne groans in discomfort while you pick up your phone, identifying where he stopped reading. You let out a sigh of relief once you realize that he wasn’t able to read anything that would indicate your plans for this evening.

“Nothing.” You state stiffly.

“Come on, I know when you’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.” You grit your teeth, wondering why he wouldn’t drop the subject.

Gwayne, sensing your displeasure, raises his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, don’t tell me. But the Targaryen party is tonight. Are you sure you want to miss it?”

You recall your earlier practice with Laena, reciting the script she has given you word for word. “I have an important meeting. I can’t go with you tonight.”

“Dad won’t like that.” Gwayne reminds you, “You know how much he loathes them. We need to form a united front against the Targaryens.”

“If he hates them so much, why bother going at all?”

“To keep track of their moves.” Gwayne explains as he takes one of the chocolate pancakes your cooks had made. He then proceeds to chew very loudly in your ear, invading your personal space. “Business 101, sister.” He says, “See, you’d know that if you actually listened to father.”

“Between the scheming and the bullshit he says, it’s hard to tell which one is worth listening to.” You move away from him, sitting down on a kitchen stool.

“What kind of meeting are you going to, anyway? Is it more important than the party?”

“Yes.”

It wasn’t technically a lie. Your upcoming scandal with Rhaenyra is more important than the party. But then again, you’d have to be in the event for the scandal to work. But you can’t tell Gwayne that you’re going. It’ll ruin the surprise. But at the same time, your father will wonder why you aren’t going. He’ll probably send Cole after you.

Ugh.

Criston.

“Is it a date?”

“You could say that.” You try to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“What do you want me to tell dad?” Gwayne looks at you seriously, his brows furrowing.

Ever since he could talk, Gwayne’s main goal has been to gain your father’s approval. He thought that if he played the dutiful son, Otto would hand the company over to him. And for a while, your father did give off the impression that Gwayne would be his successor.

Until Alicent decided to go no contact.

You have to applaud Alicent’s resilience. She was twenty-three, fresh out of business school. She had money in her account, but it wasn’t much. Her departure was sudden. You didn’t hear from her until two years later, when her face was plastered on billboards across Westeros as a creative director for a renowned fashion brand. A year after, she started her own fashion company in the luxury industry. Your father reached out to her in order to “reconnect” and they’ve maintained a business relationship since. While the reason for Alicent’s exit remained undisclosed (even to you), it is clear that she is the most favored among your siblings. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Otto gives her the company when he retires.

Since then, Gwayne has decided he was going to “step up”, become the next man of the house. He would take on more responsibility that he can handle, refusing to buckle under the weight of the pressure and hoping that one day, Otto would see him.

“Tell dad I’ll be late.” You mumble, but it was enough for him to hear.

“You won’t be late, though. You won’t attend.” Gwayne points out.

“Don’t worry about it.” You smile, patting his shoulder on the way out.

-

Hours succeeding your father and brothers’ exit from your estate, you began to get ready. You took your mother’s infamous red dress from her closet, pairing it with some of Rhaenyra’s jewels that she lent you days prior. As you put on the necklace with the Targaryen crest, thrill washes over you. The piece looked good on you and the colors suited you well.

Otto taught you that going against your family is the greatest iniquity you could ever execute. But if committing this grave sin meant seeing the color from his face drain in front of the masses, you would carry out this act of treason a hundred times over. You felt no remorse for what you were about to do. It was about time you paid your father back for the hurt he caused you. However trivial and juvenile it may seem, you had dreamt of this day for a long, long time, despite the specifics being last to get finalized.

You finish putting on your makeup just in time for Rhaenyra’s car to arrive in front of the mansion. You open your door to the sight of her in an off-shoulder, black sleek dress. Her hair was styled in intricate braids with a few strands let out from the left side of her face. She looked otherworldly, like a goddess, perhaps. Rhaenyra had a beauty that could make individuals conclude themselves blessed purely by being around her existence.

“You look lovely.”

“You look beautiful.”

A laugh escapes your lips, finding it amusing, the way you spoke at the same time.

“You look lovely.” You repeat, taking in her features once more.

Her smile widens, “Thank you.” She observed you with awe and another emotion that you couldn’t decipher.

Throughout Rhaenyra’s life, there was never an instance wherein her thoughts were silenced. Her mind consists of a plethora of ideas that tangle themselves together, leading to everlasting noise inside her head. But at the moment, her world was entirely quiet. All she could ruminate about was how ethereal you looked.

“Let’s go?”

Your words snapped her out of the trance-like state, pulling her back to reality. She offers you her hand, which you take in yours, marveling at how gentle her grip was. You make your way to the Mercedes and Rhaenyra opens the door for you.

“And they say chivalry is dead.” You joke as you enter the back seat, Rhaenyra following soon after with an eye roll.

-

Numerous photographers and journalists lined the entrance of the venue, as if they were waiting for something interesting to happen. Some of them were sat on the ground, scrolling through their phones. These people are likely the ones who weren’t permitted inside the party. The sun has almost set, which meant that the temperature wasn’t as harsh as the earlier hours. But they’ve spent their entire afternoon under its glare, making you feel sorry for them. The heat was a formidable enemy, a sentiment everyone in your vicinity shares.

You feel a hand on top of yours, the tenderness of Rhaenyra’s touch making your breath hitch.

Gods, she’s playing this act a bit too well.

“Daemon texted me.” Rhaenyra says softly, squeezing your hand. “He’s delivering his speech now.”

Gaze fixed upon your hands together, you hum in response, then look back at Rhaenyra. You try to decrypt her emotions, almost losing yourself within those amethyst eyes you find so beguiling. You wanted to know her thoughts about this, if she wanted to push through. A part of your desire to know is due to your own doubts. Doubts that aren’t about the mess you were about to get yourself into, but rather the need to save Rhaenyra from your family before things get out of hand. The Hightowers have done well to mislead the people, persuading them to think that the family is the epitome of composed and organized. However, those who have seen what you and your relatives are like behind closed doors, know that everything you’ve shown to the public is merely a deception. Tonight, would be no different. If Rhaenyra gets insight on how fucked up your family was, she might want to run for the hills.

The second reason is simpler than the first.

You want to know Rhaenyra.

You want to understand how her brain works. You want to know how she is able to get her family through muddy waters and how she comes up with solutions that does not only benefit the Targaryens, but also everyone who associates themselves with them (workers included). You want to know her opinions on things, even the random ones. You want to know how she spends her time when she’s not working. Does she spend it like you do, reading books and doing anything you can think of, or does she have her own preference for how she utilizes the days without work. You want to know what she doesn’t like. You want to know if she hates Jason Lannister like Laena.

You don’t know Rhaenyra Targaryen, but you want to.

The questions you wish to ask don’t come out of your own mouth, however, as Rhaenyra beats you to it.

“Are you sure about this?” Rhaenyra’s brows were furrowed when asking the question, as if she has been thinking for a long time if she wanted to say it. The query was sudden, Rhaenyra’s words coming out in one breath. The situation was laughable, really. You’ve spent the last two minutes trying to figure her out while she was worrying about the same thing with you.

You can’t help but return the question, “Are you?”

“I asked you first.” Rhaenyra huffs, not liking that you evaded her query by shooting the question back at her.

“I’m sure.” You try to quell her worries by your words, ensuring that you sounded as sincere as possible. Rhaenyra doesn’t look convinced by your statement, cocking her head to the side with a challenging look. Gods, this woman was stubborn. “I’m serious, Rhaenyra.” You play with the ring on her finger, noting how that was the only one she was wearing in her hand, an unusual sight, given her love of rings.

Rhaenyra stares at you for a moment longer before determining that she believes you. With a sigh, she puts her phone back in her purse, getting ready to leave the car.

“I wasn’t joking when I asked you the same question, though.” You confess. “Are you sure about this?” Rhaenyra doesn’t respond for a while, which made you even more anxious. “Because if you’re not, then we can just go separately. No one will have to know and we can go about our lives like before.”

The idea of going back to a life without you scheming with her was unacceptable to Rhaenyra. Although she has only been granted the presence of your company for a week and a half, those days have been the highlight of her year so far. To call off your plans would entail the possibility of never speaking to you again. Rhaenyra would rather face Otto Hightower herself than be divested of the chances to hear your laughter. So, with a shake of her head, she utters, “No.”

Your face falls. It was to be expected, really. Who would want to involve themselves with you, with your family? Rhaenyra has every reason to back out. You probably look so stupid right now. But this is for the better. Rhaenyra wouldn’t have to deal with your family and wouldn’t get roped up in your father’s schemes. She probably didn’t even want—

“No, sorry, I meant, I don’t want to go back to the way it was before.” Rhaenyra confesses apologetically. Seeing you crestfallen brought an ache in her chest that gradually spread throughout her entire body like wildfire. “I’m sure of this.” She reassures you, squeezing your hand. Rhaenyra gives you a few seconds to breathe before she tells you that it would be best if the two of you head to the venue now, lest you miss Daemon’s speech and let your strategy go awry.

You thank Erryk for driving you to the place and he wishes you luck before you and Rhaenyra step out of the car.

The journalists, reporters, and photographers don’t notice you for a while, wrapped up in conversations amongst themselves. Erryk drives past you with astonishing speed, leading the press to turn their heads and question whose car it was. Erryk was no longer in sight, but in his place was you and Rhaenyra. The people stared at the two of you, dumbfounded.

“That’s Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

“She’s late.”

“She brought a date.”

“Who is that?”

“No way.”

“It’s Y/n Hightower.”

“Hightower?!”

“Hightower.”

“What are they doing together?”

“Aren’t their families—”

Rhaenyra turns to you, locking your arm with hers, “Ready?”

You exhale shakily, “Ready.” Closing your eyes momentarily, you steel yourself for what was to come.

When you open your eyes again, the media headed towards you and Rhaenyra. Mics were being shoved into your faces left and right. Photographers were snapping pictures of you, the light from their cameras blinding. It was a miracle you could still see.

Three of Rhaenyra’s bodyguards paved the way for you, guaranteeing your safety. They held off the press and made certain that they wouldn’t get too close. You held Rhaenyra’s hand, letting her guide you towards the entrance of the venue. You haven’t even faced the difficult part yet things were beginning to get overwhelming. Though, having Rhaenyra by your side did make it easier.

The security guards positioned at the entrance opened the doors as soon as they saw Rhaenyra. They bowed their heads in respect. You couldn’t hide your grin even if you tried.

“Don’t let go.” Rhaenyra murmured, referring to your interlocked hands.

“I don’t plan to, my darling.”

You could have sworn you heard Rhaenyra’s breath hitch as her grip tightened around your fingers. Together, you entered the venue, walking the red carpet laid before you. The place was massive. Banners with the Targaryen symbol of the three-headed dragon was placed all over the area. There was even a giant dragon statue near the stage. It seemed excessive, but there was no doubt that everything screamed luxury. While you’ve been to Targaryen parties before, you haven’t paid much attention until now.

“—And I thank my brother, Viserys, for giving me the opportunity to—” Daemon’s words get stuck on his throat when his eyes land on his niece and you. Viserys smiles at him cluelessly, wondering why he stopped in the middle of his speech. Aemma had to nudge him to turn his attention to the doors. Daemon hides behind a smirk as everyone in the room looks at you.

The attendees’ disbelief rose to a clamor, trying to make sense of what they were seeing. A Hightower and a Targaryen side by side. Surely, this would be included in the history books to come. Being under the scrutiny of the public gave you an uneasy feeling. You felt like a caged animal, a spectacle. Everyone was looking at you like you’ve done something wrong.

Taking a deep breath, you recall the lessons your father gave you on propriety. You hold your head up high as you waked with Rhaenyra, not letting go of her hand.

Walk now, overthink later.

You spot your father and your siblings on the left, near the stage. Otto had an incredulous look on his face, his eyes widening in horror. You school your expression, refusing to laugh as you imagined the things he would say to you when you got home. If he would even allow you to come home, that is. Gwayne and your brothers stood, dumbfounded, while Alicent raised a glass of champagne towards you, downing it in one gulp. Your father was too fixated on looking horrified at the scene before him to notice. The man would not move. Criston stood by his side with his jaw set firmly. It was hard to tell who was more appalled. Him or Otto. The former’s gaze hardened, staring Rhaenyra down.

At last, you make it to the front. Rhaenyra brings you to the stage, beside her parents, whom you’ve never shared an interaction with.

“Hello.” You smile shyly, unsure what to do.

“Hello, Y/n.” Viserys and Aemma reply, both of them grinning. This was the first time Rhaenyra brought someone with her during a Targaryen party. With a grand entrance, if they may add. They saw the smile on Rhaenyra’s face as she looked at you and immediately knew that you were someone who made their daughter happy. They had more questions, sure, but Rhaenyra seemed content around you and that’s what matters for now.

“It appears my niece has made quite the entrance.” Daemon says into the mic in order to get the attention back to him. “If my speech bore you, you could’ve just said so.” That earned a laugh from the guests.

“Sorry, uncle.” Rhaenyra whispers even though Daemon knew quite well what was going to happen.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” More laughter came from the crowd, successfully turning the attention away from you and Rhaenyra. You silently thanked Daemon for the ephemeral respite from the critical eyes of the masses. “I would like to thank Viserys for giving me a chance in helping him plan this party.” He turns to Viserys, “Your trust means greatly to me. I love you.” Daemon whispers the last sentence and…

Wait.

Is that a tear?

“Lastly, I would like to thank you all for coming and I hope you enjoy the evening.” Applause echoed around the room as Daemon finished his speech, stepping away from the mic and letting Rhaenyra take over. The praise died down promptly, the audience observing Rhaenyra with keen interest, eagerly awaiting her words.

“Good evening, everyone.” The silver-haired woman started. “I apologize for my tardiness. As you know, I’ve never been one to keep track of time. To my uncle, I offer my apologies as well for cutting your hour-long speech short. I know how far you had to go to perfect your writing abilities.” The sea of people dissolved into laughter once again. Daemon narrowed his eyes at her remark. He did not like being mocked. That much was clear. “The Targaryen party is an event that I look forward to each year. Not only do I get to see your lovely faces, but also the simple truth that it brings us together. We may not always see eye to eye on things, especially in business,” Rhaenyra locks eyes with Otto, “but there is no denying that during this day, we are granted the privilege to treat each other as companions. The tensions are eased and everyone gets to enjoy each other’s company,” Your father bristles at Rhaenyra’s words while others murmur in unison, agreeing with Rhaenyra.

“This event is dear for me and my family, which is why I chose today to make my announcement.” Rhaenyra reaches for your hand, “My love,” You move forward, intertwining your fingers together. She analyzes the crowd nervously, fearing their possible response to her impending revelation. “You may know her as an influential and stubborn businesswoman,” You hear Jason Lannister snicker at the word “stubborn”, still not over the stunt you pulled with the Starks. Jason’s family was promised a great deal from the latter, but because of your interference, the Starks offered their contract to you instead. “Or you might know her as Otto Hightower’s daughter . . . I’ve had the honor in getting to know the different sides of her and I can say that she is definitely as tenacious as she looks. It’s a miracle I’m here today, really.” Rhaenyra jests, “But, in all seriousness, this woman has inspired me to do better every day and never failed to offer her support whenever I needed it. You know her as a businesswoman, but right now, I would like to reintroduce her to all of you as the magnificent Y/n Hightower. My partner, the love of my life, and most importantly… my fiancée.”

Otto lets out a strangled cough.

[selineram3421]

*sleepy*

Courting Pursuit

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor X Deer Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ gender neutral (gn) reader, mule deer reader, assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, Spanish translated, stalking-Vox, cussing, implied/suggestive, italics=thoughts, ha..watch out for the end ⚠

You continued to act affectionate towards him.

Even the others noticed and most of them would often ask you to do their work if it was related to him.

Niffty doesn't care and does her work as usual.

The thing is, you don't mind one bit and take up the work.

"Hola Alastor.", you'd greet him every time.

Today you were helping someone else, Husk to be exact, putting away some bottles in storage.

And then he heard that obnoxious voice of the sad excuse of an entertainment performer through his radio next to the television shop, Vox.

"Top of the hour! Today I have a special little treat for you, though the image is sadly glitched out, you can still see what is going on in the photo.", he says. "It's the Radio Demon, receiving an affectionate peck on the forehead from another deer!"

What a creeper. Alastor rolled his eyes and waited for the perfect moment to jump in and make the flat headed piece of tech look like a complete fool.

"From the looks of things, Alastor has a fuck buddy.", the TV demon grinned. "Wouldn't be surprised if he was taking it from behind.", he laughed and continued to rant on about innuendos like an idiot.

Turning a few knobs and flipping some switches, the Radio Demon was live.

"Salutations!", he greeted his listeners. "What an interesting start to the day! An overly cocky man acting like a news anchor when he doesn't have all the facts!", his smile widens. "For a demon asking his viewers to trust him, it's quite bold that he so blatantly lies to their faces."

"That's bullshit! I only provide the best-"

"Vox is so insecure and craving for attention from a powerful Overlord like myself, it's obvious that he's jealous.", Alastor laughed.

"Am fucking not you old timey prick-!"

"Why would he make such an announcement if not for that? Its clear to me that he wants someone to focus on him all the time.", he chuckles. "No wonder he always something new on his screens. But they lack so much that he has to resort to childish news broadcasts to seem important."

"Childish!?"

"As for the demon in the photo, that is a hotel guest and they do not understand English that much. There was a misunderstanding in translation and well..I'm not allowed to kill hotel guests.", then his voice switches. "This does not mean that I will let such an action pass, I will do something mμc# ￦θrs€ than death."

"You lying piece of shit! Tell me them the truth!"

"I should announce that the Hazbin Hotel has its doors open for all sinners who want a shot at redemption! Try to climb your way out of this fiery inferno, some might try to drag you back down, or you'll have trouble all on your own trying to redeem yourself! Anything is possible!", he put in his two bits for advertising the hotel. "And with that my wonderful listeners, I shall bid you all adieu~"

He switched on some jazz, not wanting to hear anymore of Vox's whining.

Something still irked him however..

Perhaps I should pay Rosie another visit. He thought. This time without them knowing.

As soon as he walked through the door of the emporium, his friend waved him over and pointed to her office, letting him know that she'd be there soon.

Once entering the office, he sighed and sat on the couch, already tired of what else would happen later in the day. He didn't want any other unnecessary conversations.

Rosie entered the office not too long after, setting her hat aside as she closed the door.

"You won't believe the gossip I've stumbled across today. Betty, the one with the pooch, not the one with the scar. She-", the woman started but then took notice of his mood. "What's wrong? You look worn out already."

"I don't know what to do with them. Vox, that piece of shit tech, has already made comments but I already put him in his place.", he sighed and ran a hand down his face.

"I heard.", Rosie let out a short laugh.

"The deer is still doing things, not as bold as the first time but I don't want them near me. It's-", he growled and made a choking motion with his hands.

"If it's bothering you that much, you know you can tell them to stop.", she says.

He looks up at her with a wide eyed stare.

She dead pans.

"Alastor. You know you can tell them to stop. Right?"

"The thought hadn't crossed my mind.", he simply says.

"Oh for crying out loud-!", she tosses a pillow at him. "You are unbelievable! Go and speak your mind! You've never had a problem with it before!"

She was right. Why had he been so bothered about something like this?

He should have spoken up about it from the start.

It was late when he returned to the hotel. The lobby was empty and he could only assume that everyone had long been asleep. Walking to the dining room, he spots the kitchen light on.

Angel is probably making an abomination of a hangover cure- He thought and opened the door, only to find the mule deer leaning against the counter half asleep.

You perk up when noticing him.

"Bienvenido. Hice la cena y te guardé un plato.", you wave and smile. (Welcome back. I made dinner and saved you a plate.)

"What are you doing up at this hour? Granted, it is Hell and there are barely any rules around here, sleep is still important.", he says as you pick up a plate covered with tin foil.

Taking off the foil, you give him a plate of food.

Your fingers brush against his, making him flinch back and drop the plate, causing it to shatter on the floor with a loud crash.

Instead of focusing on the mess, you looked at him with worry.

"¿Estás bien? No estás herido, ¿verdad-?", you reach out to him but he smacks your hand away. (Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you-?)

"Don't touch me.", he hisses out. "I am not comfortable with your advances, so I advise you to stop NOW before I tear you apart and make you into tomorrow's dinner."

With that you took a step back.

"No quería incomodarte. Me detendré. Perdóname por no tener en cuenta tus sentimientos.", you muttered and looked away. (I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I will stop. Forgive me for not taking your feelings into account.)

Alastor didn't bother trying to translate your response in his head, just walking around you and to the door.

"Lo siento.." (I'm sorry..)

He heard you whisper as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone.

With a sigh, you kneeled down and began to clean the mess.

Sad times means cookies.

~Seline, the person.

Part 3

Taglist@

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ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌

[yoonmetogether]

Hook, Line & Stinker

A Min Yoongi one-shot pairing: workaholic!dom!yoongi x needy!brat!fem reader feat. hoseok genre: est. relationship, pwp rating: M for mature and explicit content. No one under 18 should interact summary: you love your boyfriend, but it really sucks when he holes himself up in his studio for days at a time, leaving you at home alone. when you visit him to make sure he's still alive and well, you have no intention of dragging him away from his work. but is there anything wrong with a little distraction in the form of lingerie? warnings: jealousy, angst, (blonde snapback) yoongi is moody, reader feels neglected and pushes his buttons, arguments, there's no infidelity but reader pretends she takes an offer on a date w/ hobi and yoongi worries bc of insecurities and then brings up his ex, under the desk bj, exhibitionism kink, unprotected sex (if he doesn't wrap it, don't let him tap it!), rough make-up sex, oral (m. and f. receiving), spanking, spitting, light choking, multiple orgasms, i think this is pretty filthy, reader gets upset but yoongi takes care of her, they kiss & make-up & talk about boundaries, they love each other, fluff ending, this is my first time posting something like this so please let me know if i missed any tags!!! wc: 10.8k 🤪 also shoutout to my beta reader @yoonglesyeobo who gave me feedback in bullet-points for this, honestly the best!!!

You punch in the code to Yoongi’s studio (which just so happens to be your birthday), slightly irked that you have to come all this way because your boyfriend wants to continue to be a workaholic after you’ve lectured him countless times about the importance of taking a break. So you arrive with food and a cute lil outfit you think will help distract him.

Upon entering, you see he is deeply entranced by his screen and you can hear the echoes of music blasting through his headphones. You quietly maneuver inside and set the bag of takeout on the coffee table before tiptoeing up behind his chair and slowly reaching up to his shoulders. You roughly grab them and laugh at the way he jumps and tears off his headphones.

“Jesus Christ!” he exclaims as he turns to see who just scared the shit out of him. 

“Deng! Guess again,” you say with a grin, leaning down to kiss him on the head. When you go to poke his nose, he bats your hand away and mumbles.

“You could’ve given me a heart attack.”

“Well, that’s one way to get you out of the studio. Give you a ride home in an ambulance. I never thought of that,” you sneer playfully, giggling when he glares at you. You slide back to the food on the table. 

“Come eat, Min PD.” 

“I’m almost done,” he grumbles and turns to face his desk. You roll your eyes. 

“No, sir. You need to eat or you’re gonna make yourself sick, and guess who has to take care of you,” you scold as you tug on the back of his chair to twist him around and he looks up at you with a whine. You would never want him to get sick, but if he does, you'd love to baby him, and not just because you'd find it amusing how he'd act like he didn't like it as he has many times before. You've learned over the course of your relationship that he can take care of himself when he's sick, but now that you live together, he's been known to ham up his symptoms so you'll dote on him hand and foot. And he does just the same for you, even goes out of his way sometimes. One time he called off work for an entire week when you got the flu and wouldn't hear any of your arguments that you were fine alone.

“I will! I just need a couple minutes.” 

You click your tongue. “A couple minutes to you is like eight hours. I swear, you go through a time warp every time you come in here. You know it's been three days since I last saw you? Let’s go.”

You grab onto his arm and tug him, but he goes slack in his chair and makes protesting noises as you drag him towards the coffee table, laughing when he stretches his other arm at his desk like he’s being pulled away from a long-lost friend. 

“You are such a drama queen,” you sigh as you let go of his arm.

“I was almost done,” he pouts, crossing his arms. You roll your eyes as you take out the food you brought.

“Sure, sure. Just eat real quick and you can finish in 'a couple minutes,’” you say sarcastically with air quotes, and he scowls, nonetheless leans forward to reluctantly grab the box of food you hand him. 

You walk around the edge of the table and stop in front of him. You smile as he begins to eat his noodles, so you grab his chin.

“Good boy,” you quip, and lean down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, catching him off guard. 

He coughs a bit as he processes what you said and watches you with wide eyes as you sit down in his lap. You laugh at his expression as you open your container of food and grab a pair of chopsticks. You both sit in silence and eat, glancing at him every now and as he chews with his head down, a line drawn between his brows that looks like he’s trying to figure out something. 

“How’s your food?” you ask before taking a sip from your bottle of water.

“Good,” he grumbles without looking at you. “Thanks.” 

You shift to get more comfortable in his lap and he starts to chew faster.

After he nudges you off his lap and helps you clean up, he turns around to scoot his chair back to his desk.

“Thanks for coming by and all, but I think you should leave."

You scoff, mildly hurt. “Why?”

“Because I know what you’re trying to do.”

You realize what he means and the brat in you makes an appearance, so you throw your hair haughtily over your shoulder and slyly walk up to his chair, sliding a hand down his arm.

“And what is that exactly?”

“You’re trying to distract me, but it’s not working,” he says through curled lips, staring at his screen.

“No?” you smirk. You squat and fold your elbows on the arms of his chair, propping your chin up on your wrist. “How am I being distracting? All I did was bring you food.” 

He turns his head to glare at you, but his Adam's apple bobs when he looks down at your position, how your legs are spread to reveal the meat of your thighs, then at how you smile at him in a pseudo-innocent way. 

“Exhibit A, B and C,” he says, gesturing to your legs, tits, and face.

You grin. “What? I’m just looking at you.” Your voice however drips in seduction. 

He shakes his head and looks back at his screen, trying to stay strong. 

“Precisely.”

Your tongue pokes into your cheek in amusement and a devilish lightbulb flashes in your mind. 

“How is me looking at you so distracting?” you ask, settling on your knees before gliding a hand over his leg. “Wouldn’t it be something more like this?” 

His mouth pulls into a thin line as he struggles to keep his eyes focused up. You slowly push at his leg to move him towards you so you can rise in between his knees, smiling at the way he refuses to look at you. You begin to slide your hands up his thigh, licking your lips as you head for his crotch, but he catches your wrist.

“Don’t,” he commands, now looking down at you with a serious expression.

Undeterred, you push your bottom lip out in the brattiest pout, and the severe clench in his jaw shows how hard he's fighting to keep his guard up. 

“You’re just so stressed, and I want to help you… relax.” 

He closes his eyes and swallows, and you just know he's trying to keep his imagination away from thoughts not suited for work.

“I appreciate that, baby, but I’m almost done here and when I am, I’m all yours, okay?” He lets go of your wrist to smooth out your pout with his thumb. 

You believe him, but still, you want to bother him after he hasn't paid attention to you in a few days.

“Fine,” you sigh and start to stand up. “Well, I guess I can’t ask you for your advice on what I bought. If I want to return it, today is my last day, so it’s now or never.” 

You only take one step away when his hand grabs your wrist. You smile. Hook, line, and stinker. 

You look back in faux confusion. He licks his lips and swallows, hesitant yet desperate to find out what you’re talking about.

“What do you need my advice on?”

Without hesitation, your hands fly to the hem of your shirt. “Oh, just this.” 

He sucks in a sharp breath as you tear off your shirt to reveal a lavender corset bra. The lace is embroidered with delicate floral designs to reveal the lower half of your breast, just barely covering your nipples, and parts of your ribcage below. His throat goes dry. 

“It has a matching thong too. Wanna see?” Your question is rhetorical because you give him no time to breathe as you unbutton your shorts. You bend over to shimmy them down your legs, making a show of wiggling so your breasts move side to side. 

You kick your shorts to the side and stand straight, carding your hair out of your face before placing your hands on your hips and standing confidently in front of him. 

“So, what do you think?” you ask, cocking your head to the side as his wide eyes go up and down your form. 

“It’s pretty,” he swallows, biting his lip to ignore the twitch in his boxers. 

“Oh, see how it looks from behind.” You twirl around and adjust the clips of the corset then the hem of your thong, sticking your ass out in the process. “Isn’t it cute?” Yoongi is screwed. 

You look at him from over your shoulder. “Do you like it?” 

He nods, barely hearing you as his eyes train on the way the string of the thong disappears between your cheeks. You smirk when his tongue pokes out just over his teeth.

“The lace is really soft too. Here, feel,” you say, spinning back around and walking up to him, rubbing your fingers over the lace below your breast. 

He swallows, wanting so bad to reach out and touch, but knowing if he does, it’s over for him, he’ll lose. But shit, you look good as fuck, and he can’t help but give in. 

You grin as he reaches his hand out to feel the lace and he hums in approval.

“It’s nice,” he says, voice deep and starting to give away his desire.

“It’s even better here,” you say, gripping his wrist to plant his hand on your breast and he purrs as he lets his fingers squeeze your flesh. 

You let him massage for a second or two and judging by his face he looks closer to giving into your distraction, but you'll wait.

“Okay, since you like it, I won’t return it,” you say, dropping his hand and turning to grab your shorts off the ground. “Thanks! I’ll let you get back to work.” 

You bend over again to pick up your shirt, your ass right in his line of sight and he can’t deny the rock-hard bulge in his jeans. 

“I’ll see you when you get home,” you say as you walk over to the table but his low voice rumbles through the sound-proof studio.

“Get your ass back here,” his words shoot straight to your core, the string of your thong growing wet. 

“I thought you said you have to work,” you say innocently. 

“Right now,” he growls, and you move towards him like a magnet. 

Once again next to his chair, he slides his fingers underneath the lavender straps stretching over your hips to cup your exposed ass. Your skin flares hot when he squeezes.

“I don’t want to distract you.”

His dark eyes filled with lust shoot up to you and flicker with anger.

“It’s a little fuckin’ late for that, doll,” he grits. “You made a problem and now you’re going to fix it.” He moves his other hand to palm his bulge. Your eyes widen at the motion, and you cross your legs because, shit, you want to sit on that so bad.

“And then you’re going to leave and let me finish what you interrupted and wait for me to come home.” 

“Yeah? Then what?”

His lips curl in what could be a growl, and he smacks your ass, pushing you to stand between his legs. 

“Then I’m going to punish you for getting me hard at work.”

You moan as his hand moves to your front and feels over the lace material that covers your pussy. You shudder when his fingers slip between your thighs, battling with the string of your thong to rake over your clit and slit, groaning at how wet you already are. 

“Fuck, you really get this turned on just from teasing me?”

You whimper in response as he drags his finger over your bud before removing his hand. 

“We need to do something about that,” he says, sticking his fingers in his mouth to suck your arousal from them. Your legs shake involuntarily. “You can’t keep pissing me off so you can get your way.”

You breathe out a moan as he pops his wet fingers into view and licks over them slowly with his tongue flicking in the v-shape while looking right at you before dropping them to his lap. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you imagine him doing that right on your clit.

“I keep saying, you make it too easy.” 

He bares his teeth before gripping your sides and pulling you down to his lap, pushing your hips to roll on his groin.

“Or maybe you just need to have the brat fucked out of you,” he growls into your ear before biting the skin below it. Before you can do anything, he pushes at your waist and tells you to get on your knees on the ground, raking his hair back in frustration. 

You hesitate as you stare at his crotch, wanting to reach for it but remembering all the times he's tied you up for touching him without permission.

“Get to work,” he says, letting his wrists dangle casually from the arms of the chair, bracelets clacking.

You greedily sit up on your knees as your fingers dig around under his sweater for his belt. You quiver at the sound of his buckle coming loose and bite your lip when you see the bulge straining in his underwear after you undo his jeans. Just as you begin to reach into his boxers, someone knocks at his door.

You both react in panic.

“Hyung, can I come in? I need to show you something,” the sound of Hoseok’s voice echoes from the other side of the door.

“Shit!” he breathes, pushing your hands away from his belt and rolling in his chair over to where you left your clothes on the floor. However, you have no intention of moving.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He asks exasperatedly in a hushed tone when he finds you sliding back under his desk on your hands and knees.

“Yah, Yoongi hyung!”

Yoongi’s head whips between you and the door, blood pressure spiking. You put your hand out for the clothes he’s holding.

“It’s too late, I’ll just hide under here. He won’t see me.”

Yoongi’s jaw moves in annoyance, but he has no time to argue with you. So, he scoots his chair all the way under his desk to shield you with his widespread legs, throwing your clothes in your face. It works because you can barely see out beyond his lap, thanks to his wide and thick thighs, but this is no good news for Yoongi because another evil and salacious idea forms in your mind.

“It’s unlocked!” Yoongi calls and braces himself, praying that Hoseok cannot see under his desk.

As the door opens, Yoongi quickly busies himself at his computer, pretending that he doesn’t have his half-naked girlfriend underneath his desk and face level with his crotch. 

“Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to ask your advice on something.”

Yoongi’s brow ticks. Why is everyone asking for his advice today? 

“It’s fine, Hob-a, what’s up?” He asks, trying to play it cool. 

But as Hoseok stands next to him at his desk, he feels hands slide onto his lap and he grips the edge of the table, hoping that you're only just teasing him. But that hope doesn’t last very long.

Hoseok wants to know what he thinks about one of his tracks, that there’s something off about it but he can’t figure out what. Hoseok hands Yoongi his flash drive and he plugs it into his PC, and as he clicks around for the file your fingers inch towards his unopened jeans.

As Hoseok points at the screen about different parts of the track he’s concerned about, Yoongi grinds his teeth, urging himself to stay focused even when you begin to palm at his clothed dick. He thinks about kicking you, but all thoughts get cut off when you reach in through the hole in his boxers and pull his cock out. Fuck, he's needy for you, even in the most unorthodox way. He jerks when your hand wraps around his length, the other diving back in to squeeze his balls but he plays it off like he’s adjusting in his seat, masking his moan with a cough. He slides forward in the chair so you can have easier access.

Shit. How can something so wrong feel so motherfucking good?

“You okay?” Hoseok asks, giving him a wary side glance as Yoongi clicks around the screen.

The older, sweating man nods stiffly and clears his throat. 

“Yeah. It’s just been a long day. Do you wanna run it through?”

Hoseok leans over for the mouse and Yoongi takes the chance to let his expression crack while you run your tongue up the thick, pulsing vein on the underside of his dick, hand circling around his base.

Yoongi’s eyebrows pinch in fierce concentration on Hoseok’s track once he hits play but all of a sudden, your lips wrap around his tip, and you suck him into hollowed cheeks, devastatingly slow so as to not make noise even though the music would surely cover it. Stifling a groan, he straightens his back and presses his ribcage against his desk when you swirl your tongue around him. He’s going to fucking get you later. 

Hoseok hits the spacebar and pauses the music. As it stops, you halt your movements. “See, there. Something doesn’t sound right.” 

Yoongi’s brows furrow as he tries to center his attention even though your hand is massaging his balls.

“I think I missed it, sorry.” 

Hoseok sighs but moves the mouse to rewind back a few beats. He points at the tracker on the screen to tell Yoongi which part to pay most attention to and he nods.

As the music resumes your mouth returns to his length, and you slowly move down until his tip hits the back of your throat and he holds his breath at the pleasure, moan catching in his chest. He's so goddamn pissed that you’re doing this to him, but it feels so good at the same time. He tries his best to resist the urge to let the pleasure consume him, so he knocks off his snapback to pull his fingers through his hair and begs his brain to focus on the music. 

“Right here, hyung,” Hoseok murmurs next to him and Yoongi nods, listening closely even though your hot tongue licks from his base to the tip. 

Then he hears it, some strange offbeat in the background and he taps the spacebar, sighing through his nose when the silence makes you retreat.

They go over it for a while until Yoongi finally figures out what’s going on since the blood returns to his brain once you stopped touching him (although that doesn’t mean he isn’t still hard, and his dick isn’t twitching in your face and making you salivate and want to touch yourself). 

“Ah, okay, I see what you mean,” Hoseok says when Yoongi explains that there’s an extra beat embedded that’s easy to miss. “Thanks.” He claps him on the shoulder.

“Is that all you need?” Yoongi asks just to be polite but prays Hobi makes a quick exit. 

He nods as he saves the file before ejecting it and Yoongi pulls out the flash drive and hands it to him. 

“How long have you been here?” 

“Uh, a while, but I’m almost done.” Yoongi hopes Hoseok doesn’t see the way his eyes squeeze shut when you begin to move your thumb over his leaking tip.

“Good. You deserve a break! You’ve been working so hard.”

“Thanks, Hob-a. You too.” 

“How’s your girlfriend?”

Yoongi internally groans, now of all times Hoseok wants to make small talk. 

“She’s fine,” he says in a tight voice, only because you have lightly dragged your fingers up his length.

“Uh-oh. Troubles in paradise?” 

Yoongi’s eyes widen in confusion and your hand stills. “No? What makes you say that?”

“Oh, just saying, because usually when anyone asks you about her, you gush for like twenty minutes.”

Yoongi’s face and neck flushes a dark red and you have to press a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet. 

“Do not,” he grumbles, although in denial. 

Hoseok snorts. “Fat lie, hyung. You always jump at the chance to talk about her, you don’t realize that? It’s cute! Well, in a sickening kind of way, but still.” 

Yoongi glares at him as he feels your head fall onto his knee, trying to keep yourself from laughing.

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

“Why? Are you embarrassed?” Hoseok teases in a baby voice, bending down to pinch at Yoongi’s cheeks. “Cute Yoonie loves his girlfriend so much that he wants to talk about her all the time.”

“Fuck off, Hoseok,” Yoongi mumbles, swatting at Hoseok’s fingers and pushing him away as he turns back to his computer, and thankfully you’ve cut him a fucking break under his desk.

Hoseok snickers and grabs his laptop. “You better go home and see her, go on a date. But if you’re too busy, I’d be more than happy to take her out for you!”

“Yah, Jung Hoseok!” Yoongi bubbles with fury and Hoseok just cackles and scurries to the exit. 

“Bye!” Hoseok grins mischievously, wiggling his fingers in the air before closing the door behind him. 

A few seconds after the lock clicks shut, you burst out into laughter, and Yoongi flushes a hot, steaming red all the way up to his ears. 

Yoongi pushes away from the desk and ducks his head down to look at you as you begin to crawl out on all fours. He scowls when you giggle once you make eye contact with him.

“I don’t see what’s funny. You’re in big trouble, you know,” he says, stuffing himself back in his underwear.

You stifle a laugh as you stand up. “You mad?”

“Clearly!”

You cock your eyebrow when he darts a hand out in frustration. “At what, the fact that I sucked your dick under your desk or that I found out how much you love to talk about me?”

Yoongi narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “Both.” 

You smirk. “Aww, come on, Yoonie~” you tease, mimicking Hoseok as you go to sit on your boyfriend’s lap. 

“Go away,” He tries to fight you off but you trap him by grinding down on his hips and shoving your tits in his face. 

You hum as you press an open-mouth kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You sure?” 

Your hand slides down to his clothed dick, still solid under your palm. “Don't you want me to take care of your ‘problem’?” 

He swallows moan as you grope him. But he feels embarrassed and upset that you went down on him when Hoseok was there. Deep down he thinks it was hot, but he knows Hoseok has always had a crush on you and he doesn’t like the idea of him seeing you like that, especially with the kinds of comments he sometimes makes implying that he can treat you better.

“Yeah, when I get home,” he sighs and you deflate. “I’m almost done.”

“Seriously, are you mad?” 

“No, babe. I just want to finish up now so that I can be done for the weekend. That’s what you want, right?”

You grimace, wondering what he means by that. “Fine,” you acquiesce, hopping off of his lap so he can roll back up to his desk. 

You slide on your clothes and gather your things, biting your tongue to keep from saying anything smart, but you can’t help feeling that his words don't sit right in your chest. As you walk to the door and slip on your shoes, you glance over to see him hunched over his desk, not even bothering to look back as you leave.

“You know, maybe I’ll go find Hoseok and take him up on his offer. Since it seems he has the time for me,” you sneer after you open the door, stepping out and slamming it shut behind you. 

Yoongi jerks his head and swivels around but you've already disappeared. Oooh, that pisses him off. He knows you only said it to do just that but that sits right along his insecurities and he wants to lose it. But he really is almost done with work so if he hunkers down now, he can finish and go home and tell you off.

90 minutes later he receives a notification, a text from you with an attached image. You’re lying in bed on your stomach in your corset bra, holding up your head as you pout into the camera with your cleavage on full display. 

my brat: Hoseok was busy :/

Yoongi drops his phone on the table, and it clatters, free hands rubbing frustration down his face. He knows what you’re doing, and he should have the willpower to ignore it but- FUCK are you good at getting what you want. You like pissing him off so that he'll be rough with you. And although he enjoys the dynamic, finds it fun, this is just one of those times that he really doesn’t like how you piss him off. He hates the idea of you alluding to the fact that you asked another man to fuck you. He knows you indeed haven’t, that you’re just messing with him, but he’s getting in his head with his self-doubt. He angrily decides that the track is good enough for now, that he can meet with Namjoon tomorrow or something to tweak it. He has to get home to make sure no one else has touched you but him.

You are in Big. Fucking. Trouble.

When Yoongi walks through the door, you’re in the kitchen getting something to drink, wearing one of his flannel shirts over your lingerie. When he appears you smile and greet him, but falter when he ignores you and quickly shuffles by to the bedroom. You watch him pass you and your smile slips at the stone look on his face. You know you pissed him off but did you make him upset? You never want to hurt his feelings, you just want to get his attention. You set your drink on the counter and pad after him. 

When you walk into the room and lean against the door frame, his back is to you as he strips off his sweater to reveal his dark gray t-shirt and silver chain.

“Did you finish?” you ask, twiddling your fingers over one of the buttons of his flannel. 

“No,” he says, keeping his back to you. You frown.

“Oh. How come?” 

“Because my bratty girlfriend can’t be fucking patient," he grits, swiping off his snapback.

You cross your arms, not appreciating his tone. “I left, didn't I?”

His shoulders shake in a sardonic laugh, fingers combing through his hat-hair. “Yeah, only after telling me you were going to look for Hoseok.”

“Yeah well, maybe if you paid more attention to me, I wouldn’t feel the need to do that,” you sneer before pushing off of the door frame to speed-walk into the living room. 

You only make it halfway down the hall before a hand grabs your wrist. You’re met with Yoongi’s looming figure exuding anger as he glares down at you and you match his energy immediately.

“And you think the way to get my attention is by making me jealous?”

“Well, it seems to be the only thing that’s working! Isn’t that why you came home before you got done with work? Because you think I asked Hoseok to fuck me? Not because you-“ 

“Did you?” he interrupts and your jaw moves in irritation.

“What do you think?” you bark. He blinks down at the floor. There it is again- that insecurity. He backs you into the wall as he tries to control his anxiety.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles honestly and that pisses you off. He really thinks you would stoop that low?

“Really? What, you think I wanted to suck you off while he was there hoping he’d catch us? Ask to join? Have me suck his dick too?” 

Rage floods through him at the thought and his hold around your wrist tightens. 

“Would you?” 

Your mouth drops open. “Wow. Screw you." You pry his hand off and angrily walk back into the bedroom, wanting to put on more clothes now that you’re upset. As he follows, you make a petty point by taking off his flannel and exchanging it for your own clothes, pulling on your own t-shirt and sweats. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says when he stands in the doorway.

"No? You don’t think that I’d jump at the chance to suck another man’s dick if the opportunity presented itself?” 

“No, of course not,” he shakes his head, feeling guilty when you say nothing else so he continues, wanting you to understand where he's coming from.

“I just… You know he likes you.” 

You spin around, flabbergasted. “Fucking so?”

He closes his eyes, feeling embarrassed that he’s about to bring this up. He has no reason to be worried that you like Hoseok but… he still struggles deep down that he doesn’t deserve you and that you’d be better off with someone else. Maybe someone like Hoseok. 

“Why don’t you go ask him whether or not I took him up on his offer?” you snap. Then you stride across the floor and stand toe to toe with him. 

“Or how bout you find out for yourself,” you provoke. 

He looks down at you with your chin tilted up at his and a heartbeat passes before his hands fly to your face and he presses his lips to yours. You respond immediately by scraping your fingers over his ribs, hooking over his spine as he licks into your mouth, teeth clashing together desperately. 

He begins to walk you backward towards the bed and when you hit the edge of the mattress, he tears your shirt off and lifts you by the waist to settle you down and kiss you hungrily as he climbs on top of you, chain laying on your throat. His hands move down to your sweats and he stands straight to rip them down your legs and onto the floor, looking down at your body decorated with pretty lingerie and he intrusively thinks about Hoseok seeing you like this and jealousy fires through him again. 

He falls to his knees and loops his fingers under the straps of your thong to roughly pull them off, licking his lips at the sight of your bare pussy, glistening with the return of your arousal. He adds to it with his spit and promptly attaches his lips to your clit, growling when you cry out and arch your back in response. He wraps his arms underneath your thighs to hold you in place as he slathers your pussy with his spit and teeth and tongue. 

His eyes close as you let out whimpers and whines of his name while your hands grip his hair, every sound making his dick twitch in his jeans. He sucks and slurps all over your cunt, making it messy between your thighs and on his chin, anything to make you keep wailing his name. He flicks his tongue over your clit and between your folds just like he demonstrated on his fingers back in the studio, and he has to flex his biceps around your thighs when you thrash. He can tell you’re close by the way your legs quiver beside his head and he slides your clit between his teeth before pressing his lips around it and sucking in a fast, relentless rhythm. 

“Yoongi, gonna come!” you cry and a dark chuckle rumbles through his chest at the thought that no one else can get you to your peak as quickly as he can. He mercilessly continues sucking your clit until your legs violently shake and press against his head and you come with shrieks of his name. His tongue dives to your hole as it pulses and he licks your essence into his mouth and groans while he swallows, grinning victoriously as you continue to shake through throes of pleasure. 

He slows his movements as you spiral down, loving the way you twitch at every touch of his mouth. He presses a final kiss to your clit before he moves his arms from under your thighs so he can hover over you while you catch your breath. He places his knee between your legs and leans down to kiss you so you can taste yourself, chain swinging over your heaving breasts. You moan as you dart your tongue against his and loop your arms around his neck to pull him down. Then he slides his lips down your jaw into the crook of your shoulder and speaks gruffly into your ear.

“You think he could make you come like that?”

You immediately shake your head, heat filling your gut at his dark tone. He bites your neck then rolls his tongue over the spot to soothe the sting. 

“You need to say that out loud.”

You draw in a sharp breath. “No! No he couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t what?” he snaps.

“He couldn’t make me come. Not like you do.” 

Pride shoots down his spine and he sits up to straddle your hips, turning you over onto your stomach so he can grab handfuls of your ass. 

“You think he could fuck you like I do? Huh?” he experimentally rolls his clothed bulge over the swell of your ass.

“No,” you whimper with a desperate shake of your head.

“No?” he challenges. “You don’t think so?” He drags his hips against you slowly, hissing at the friction. 

You continue to agree and he hums, still taking his time to drag this out. He just wants to hear it as much as possible but your smart mouth fucks you over.

“If you’re not convinced then we can go find out,” you say, voice muffled by the sheets but he hears you and snarls. 

He leans down to grip a handful of your hair to turn your ear to his mouth.

“Why don’t you do that and I’ll go re-acquaint myself with Mina.”

A vicious green monster tears through your chest and you turn over to face him as your head fills with intrusive thoughts of the hands and body of his ex you once envied all over him while he enjoys it. 

He chuckles mockingly at your expression. “Don’t like that, huh?” 

You say nothing but look at him angrily as you picture him with her, hating it with a passion. 

“Do you, baby?” he coos sarcastically, trailing the backs of his fingers down your cheek. “Don’t like the idea of my hands and my mouth being on someone else?” 

He leans down to emphasize his point by kneading and kissing at your skin that he can reach and your chest heaves in response. 

He rolls his hips. “Or my dick fucking someone else’s pussy?”

You see red and your hands fly up to grab his chain and tug his face parallel with yours so he grunts, a dark grin spreading on his face. 

“No, I don’t fucking like it,” you seethe.

“Now you know how I feel,” he says mockingly. You scowl, fucking annoyed, and let go of his jewelry.

“You brought this on yourself. I never talked to Hoseok. He was the one who said he would take me out if you didn’t.” 

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have heard that if you hadn't been hiding under my desk sucking me off.” 

“Oh, right and you were trying real hard to get me to stop,” you snap, pushing at his chest.

His jaw ticks, realizing you have a point. He leans up and sits back on his heels.

“Or just admit that you didn’t want me to,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbows. His eyes flicker to you darkly.

“That you liked it,” you taunt, moving to sit up on your knees so that you're level with him.

“That maybe if he did catch us he’d be jealous of your long, fat dick.” He shivers as your words send shocks to his core and his ego.

“And how good my throat is for fucking.” 

His gulps at the imagery as your fingers trace under his shirt.

“And how he’d never get to find out for himself,” you say earnestly, looking directly into his eyes. 

Then your hand slowly travels down to his groin.

“But if you want to go find Mina and see if she makes you feel as good as I do,” you mock as you grab his bulge and squeeze under his balls, making him hiss and involuntarily buck against you.

“Then be my fucking guest.” Your teeth grind as you let go of him to move off of the bed but you’re quickly stopped with a hand squeezing your elbow.

“Lay down,” he demands, warm breath fanning over your cheek. 

“Make me." He huffs before moving his hand to your throat and pressing lightly on either side, making your resolve slip. 

“Keep it up, brat.” The very brat in you comes back for an encore as you grab his wrist. 

“Or what? Gonna go call up Mina? You think she’d even want you anymore?” 

His eyes flash menacingly at the venom in your voice and you squeak when he bends down to pick you up, arms supporting your back and under your ass to carry you over to your shared desk.

“It doesn’t matter whether she would or not. Because I don’t want her,” he says simply as he sets you down, knocking the notebooks and tchotchkes out of the way, paying no mind as they clatter onto the floor.

“No? Then who do you want?” You know it’s a stupid question but you’re fucking triggered and you want to hear him say it. He tilts his head as he undoes the buckle on his belt.

“I’m looking right at her, sweetheart.” You falter, but you’re not about to let up that easy.

"Just - Fuck you for bringing her up." Gently pushing your legs apart, he gives you a remorseful smile.

“I’m sorry. I only wanted to get back at you but I took it too far.”

“Get back at me for what?” you ask, glossing over his apology and you’re almost able to ignore his fingers massaging the inside of your thighs. 

He cocks his brow. “For that selfie you sent and your text implying that you asked Hoseok to fuck you but he was too busy?” 

“You started it,” you scoff and cross your arms, chest heaving as his hands move slowly to the part of you that’s aching for him.

“Did I? You were the one who came into my studio and shoved your tits and ass in my face wearing this pretty lingerie all because I haven’t been paying you enough attention.” 

“Try ‘any’ attention.” He hums and looks down to watch his thumb brush over your clit, smirking when you gasp and grab his forearm.

“Baby, it’s only been a few days. Are you that needy for me?” 

You huff but don't try to deny it, eyes rolling to the ceiling when he slides two fingers between your wet folds, lifting up your knee to hold it on his hips so he has a better view and access.

“Thought so.” You shut your eyes so his smug face won’t piss you off.

“Well, remember I tried to leave but you told me to ‘get my ass back here right now,’” you recount, leaning back with a hand on the desk.

You bite your tongue when his fingers sink inside to slowly work you open.

“Yeah, well you’re sexy as hell in this lingerie and I’m a weak bastard for you, so sue me,” he grumbles, staring at your pussy as his hand picks up the pace.

“I’m only sexy in lingerie?” 

He sighs. “Sweetheart, did you miss the part where I said I’m a weak fucking man for you?”

You hum nonchalantly, his words filling your heart up with butterflies but the brat in you is refusing to leave the stage so you ignore him.

He shakes his head and grips your thigh to get you to look at him, making sure you’re paying attention.

“Just shut that smart mouth of yours, baby girl. And let me show you I mean what I say.” 

He lifts one of your arms to hook around his shoulder and you reluctantly acquiesce, letting him situate you in a way that’s comfortable before he pushes down his jeans to free his dick from its confines. Jerking his shaft, he tilts down in concentration to inspect your puffy cunt.

When he thinks it could use more lube, he holds his hand next to your mouth. 

“Spit.” Letting go of your stubbornness, you obey, only because you enjoy the way he doesn’t mind your saliva dropping in his palm.

“Good girl,” he mumbles. You watch impatiently as he tilts his head back while spreading your spit over his tip, making you clench around nothing when his knuckles brush your folds. You whine his name again when you feel his head rub up and down your wet slit before he taps it a few times.

“Beg.”

Your hand slaps his back, matching your huff in frustration and his lip curls. 

“Minus the fucking attitude.”

“It’s been three days.”

“What?” he snaps.

You lift your head with a glare. “I said it’s been three fucking days, why should I beg?” 

He slides his hard, lubed up length in between your folds to show you what you’re stalling. 

“Shouldn’t that be all the more reason to?” he growls as he smacks the side of your ass. 

“I'm not the one who didn't come home. So shouldn’t it be you doing the begging?” 

He stills.

“Maybe,” he says softly, massaging your skin that he knows is stinging from his hand. Your chest squeezes at the sad tone in his voice even though you’re pissed off.

“But you remember what I said about punishing you for getting me hard at work?” 

Your eyes squeeze shut, lips pursing as you nod.

“This is part of it. You’d better fucking beg.” 

He sighs and shakes his head, digging his fingers into your waist when you take a second too long to respond.

“I’m not going to tell you again.” He steps back, threatening to walk away. In a panic, you hook your heels behind him to keep him from going any further.

“Fuck, fine! Yoongi, please. Please fuck me!”

With a dark chuckle, he closes the distance between you again, arm circling around your waist, licking and marking under your jaw. Wrapping your arms around his neck as he holds up your thigh, you moan when he teases your entrance with his throbbing tip.

“I’ll always give you what you want when you’re a good girl for me.”

And just like that, the brat in you is gone. At least for now. He groans when you kiss him with ferocity and allows you to take the reins a bit. You moan and fist his hair in both hands, whining when his hand trails to your core to make sure you’re still ready, and he’s confirmed when he easily slips in three of his fingers, making you gasp into his mouth.

“You want it?” he growls against your swollen lips as he removes his hand covered with your essence to use it as lube on his dick. You nod frantically. 

“Words.”

“Yes!” you wheeze.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes!” You exclaim louder.

“Then turn around.”

He helps you settle on your feet and twirls you around with both hands on your hips, biting behind your ear while he lines himself up behind you.

“You know I love you, right?” You nod, leaning into his teeth and wiggling your hips to entice him but his firm hand on your ass keeps you in place. “But right now I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.” 

A spark floods through you at the way he curls a hand around your throat and simultaneously rubs his head up to your aching clit. You’re screwed, but you are so, so ready. 

“Please!”

Without giving you a second to breathe, he spears into you, forcing you forward with your hands flattened on the desk. You yelp out when he begins ramming into you at an angle so deep your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He slaps your ass, harshly enough to sting, and grunts when you clench around him, continuing to make the room swell with lewd sounds of your wet pussy squelching with every smack of his hips. It feels feral, the force of his thrusts causing the desk to thump against the wall, but the rhythmic sound is drowned out by your mindless moans.

He fucks you like he hates you, like he doesn’t care how the wooden edge is digging into your waist, or the way he’s slapping your ass until your skin is raw, slamming his hips against yours so it’s certain you’re going to have trouble walking. If you didn’t like it so much, you’d be telling yourself not to piss him off ever again.

A hand on your spine pushes you down onto the desk, breasts and face squishing on the lacquered wood, and you moan when he pulls your cheeks a part and you can just picture the way he’s watching himself pound you, tongue poked out in fascination, head moving from side to side to see all the different angles.

“Nah.” He mutters to himself and you glance over your shoulder to see him shaking his head as your body moves up and down. “No one else can fuck you like this. Right?” He grits, fingers digging into your ass as he takes a long stroke of emphasis.

“Mhmm!”

He hums to himself in satisfaction, letting out an amused chuckle before he starts fucking you so hard and so fast and so goddamn good that you don’t realize you’re coming until it hits you, and your finger nails dig into the desk for dear life, leaving scratch marks. As you clench around him he lets out a string of curses that would make even a sailor blush, rubbing his hands up and down your back, fingertips kneading your ass as you shake and come apart.

You’re still trembling when he finally slows his thrusts to a moderate pace and his hands on your skin are moving more gently now that you’re coming down.

“Baby, talk to me. You good?” It takes you a second to register that he’s been talking to you for a few seconds. He just fucked you into euphoria, you’re drooling on the desk because of it, so you need a goddamn minute.

You whine in dissatisfaction when he pulls out of you, only for him to reach over to brush sweaty hair out of your face, and you blink open tear-filled eyes to him peering down at you with concern knitted into his brows.

“You good?” he repeats, continuing to brush your hair back and smoothe his hand down your spine.

You nod. “Mhmm. ‘M a good girl.” His eyebrows lift in relief when you say something that’s somewhat coherent.

“That you are.” You swoon. That’s all you ever want to hear him say, even though more often than not your behavior speaks otherwise. At least he’s shown you that he loves to deal with it.

“I’m gonna bring you over to the bed. Can you make it?” Pushing your hands against the desk, you try to put some weight on your feet and know without even trying that you won’t. It feels like he was on the brink of splitting you in half.

“Only if you carry me.” You can feel his smile on the side of your face as he rubs your shoulders before gently pulling back on them, holding you against his chest once you straighten. He presses light but necessary kisses to your neck and cheek before turning you to the side so he can swoop you up in his arms like you’re his bride. You hope one day you will be.

You could almost cry at the tender way he puts you down on the mattress, his face dewy and red from exertion, and adjusts the pillows beneath you, fluffing them how you like it. How he can so easily slip from being your insane freak in the sheets who hates you to your sweet, doting boyfriend is beyond you but it’s one of the many things you love so much about him. “Too much?” Your heart swells again at his loving tone as he coasts his hand down your torso, inspecting the indentations left on your waist from the desk to make sure they’re ones that won’t bruise.

You shake your head. “I can still remember my own name.”

“Dang, so I could do better,” he smirks.

Blowing a raspberry, you playfully smack the side of his head and he only chuckles and leans down to kiss you. Just as he brushes your lips, you push at his clothed shoulder, suddenly very much bothered by the fact that he is not completely naked yet.

“Shirt,” you mumble, tugging at his collar. “What about it?” “Off.”

He cocks a brow, mouth pulling up into a smirk. “Are you telling me what to do?”

“Yes. Problem?”

He hisses an amused sound, sits up on his knees and blinks down at you, lightly batting your hands away when you reach for the hem of his now unapproved fabric.

“We just went through all that, but you still want to have a fucking attitude?”

You withdraw your hands, rest them on your tummy as you look up at him sheepishly. He looks at you patiently, waiting for a response, but you don’t have one, so you instead raise your hands to the side in a shrug because what can you say? The smirk on his face grows until it turns into a laugh, and he kicks his head back. Fuck, you love his laugh. His shoulders start to shake, gummy grin on full display as he looks down at you through his stringy bangs, and you fall just that much more in love.

“It’s like that, huh?” He muses, coasting his hands up and down your thighs.

“It’s fun to piss you off,” you justify, holding your arms up in invitation and he pauses for a split second before lowering into your embrace.

“Yeah, and I know you have a blast doing it, much to my expense,” he mutters, letting you pepper his jaw with kisses. You giggle as you get over to his mouth and he opens up to swallow down your sounds.

As you makeout, his hips start to rock over yours under the covers, heavy cock desperate to fill you again so you trail your hands down to his ass, digging your go ahead into his skin. Keeping a hand next to your head and his tongue over yours, he reaches down to guide himself back in, humming when you moan in satisfaction. He lifts his head with a curse when you suck him in with ease, baring your neck to him that he nips before straightening his arm to plank above you. He stares down at you with lust-blown eyes as he takes your leg from under the sheets to rest on his shoulder. You bite your lip and grapple for his neck as he fucks into you slowly, hips rolling with deft, meaningful strokes. For a few moments he fucks you like that, reveling in your moans and whimpers, especially when he ducks his head to suck your tits into his mouth.

“Missed you, Yoon,” you whisper suddenly, blissed out and slack-jawed. He pauses his thrusts to put your leg back in place before dropping down to grab your hands and curl them under his, tongue licking roughly over the top of your mouth. Your chest heaves, breathing him in while he sucks on your lips and tongue. 

“Missed you too, doll." His hips resume to a slow rhythm, and you let out a soft cry at the sensation of him filling you up to the brim despite never leaving.

You struggle to kiss him back as you get lost in the clouds again now that he’s rocking into you at a slower pace, pressing deeply into you so you can feel every inch of each other with every stroke.

“So fucking good for me,” he grumbles into your mouth, building rhythm as he brings himself to peak.

“Wanna be,” you slur. 

“Hm?” His tongue pokes out as he focuses on rolling his hips against a tight, cushioned spot that kisses his tip and draws his orgasm closer.

“Wanna be so good for you. Always.” He grins, pride swelling his chest at your promise.

“Not for Hoseok?” Because he has to make sure.

“No,” you whimper, yanking at his chain to bring him down in a messy kiss. “Just you.”

He kisses you with a relieved smile, bites at your neck a few times, and slaps your hip.

“Then get up and ride me. I shouldn’t be doing all this fucking work,” he commands and slips out before pulling you up by the elbows. He crawls around you to sit against the headboard while you turn to face him and prop yourself up on shaking knees.

Noticing this, he pauses and holds you still. “Can you?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, confirming it with a sloppy kiss.

Grinning, he pulls you forward until you hover over his lap and fists his dick to hold himself in place while his other hand pushes you down by your hip. You grip his shoulders and whine as you sink onto him, waiting until you’re fully breached to start circling your hips. As you lean in to lick between his teeth, you rake your fingers down his chest, lightly scratching over his nipples and smiling when he moans. 

“Shit,” he curses against you as you press your thumbs against his buds and he gets you back by attacking your neck with bites and bruises that you’ll have for days. You begin rolling in his lap and hold onto his shoulders for leverage, gasping when he wraps his arm across your waist to pull you closer so your breasts are right in his face and he attaches his mouth to one, leaning back on his hand to hold himself up.

He releases your tit with a pop and tilts his head to watch in content as your knees move to prop yourself up so you can bounce on his dick, appreciating his hand on your ass supporting and guiding you.

“Fuck, doll. Yeah, just like that,” He moans and breaks from your lips to throw his head back as his balls tighten, and you take your turn to make marks on his neck.

“Nngh, gonna come,” he groans deep in his gut, Adam’s apple bobbing and eyes squeezing shut as you continue to rock against him and it throws him over the edge. He pushes at your hips to force you off of him until you fall back once more on the mattress as he pulls out with a gasp. He growls and grunts as thick ropes of hot cum shoot out over your stomach and tits and you moan at the feeling and the sounds he makes. 

“Goddamn,” he wheezes, jerking his dick through the final pulses of his orgasm and he grips your thigh to keep himself grounded. When his dick stops twitching, he falls back over to kiss you roughly.

“Close,” you tell him against his lips and he curses.

“Fuck, okay.” Anticipating being overstimulated but wanting nothing more than to satisfy you, he sits on his heels, pulls your hips onto his thighs and waits for your nod for him to plunge back in.

He wastes no time rutting into the very spot that he knows will guarantee you to come fast and hard. He has to bite his bottom lip to keep from whining at the overstimulation. But it proves fruitless when you pulse your orgasm around his dick, squeezing him so tight, that he starts to come again, encouraged by your endless moans of his name. He manages to keep his release at bay until he feels your wave wash back and yanks himself out at the last second so that he doesn’t give into temptation and come inside you. That level is on the horizon, but neither of you are quite ready for that. He knows just how addictive that will be and it’s too much of a risk.

So he opts to come on your stomach and chest for a second time, not bothering to jerk himself through it and just lets his cock bob on your center as he returns to his place above you. You open your mouth to welcome him before he even lands his fists beside your head.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he breathes over you, ducking his head into your neck so he can hear you whisper the same.

Dick softening on your lower stomach, he kisses you until his biceps strain under his weight.

“You feeling okay?” He asks, sitting back on his heels and smiling warmly (proudly) at your fucked out expression.

He presses his hands on your hips, heart racing when you won’t stop staring at him and he has to look away to prevent a rise in blood pressure, instead staring at all of his cum spread over you.

He looks back up when he catches your hand reaching for him and he grabs it, wrapping his fingers around your knuckles and bringing it to his lips to kiss your palm, eyes never leaving yours.

“What?” He asks as you pout. He kisses the inside of your wrist and you sigh, let his lips linger there and your heart stops for a moment at his tenderness.

With a smile and one more kiss on the back of your hand, he gets up and grabs a pair of sweatpants on the way to the bathroom, running a washcloth under warm water and wringing it out lightly before bringing it back to you to clean up his mess.

A moment later, he watches you with wide eyes as you slide out of bed and head to the bathroom without a word, albeit with a noticeable wobble. He sighs when the door shuts, getting the feeling that fucking the shit out of each other just now did nothing to solve your problems. While he waits for you to come back out, he strips the bed of soiled sheets to take out to the washer in the hallway closet. Just as he starts the cycle, you emerge from the bathroom, arms crossed over your breasts as you scurry into the bedroom to dress into his hoodie and a pair of his hoochie daddy shorts. You keep your head down while you walk past him for the kitchen, but he catches you with an arm pressed into your abdomen.

“Hey,” he murmurs above your head. “Whatever you’re thinking, you can tell me.”

You nod against his bicep, slipping your hand down to his fingers and tangling them together to lead him into the kitchen. He doesn’t take his hands off of you while you maneuver around to retrieve glasses of water for you both, but you end up just sharing yours. Neither of you say anything for a moment after you refresh yourselves. Then, his knuckles under your chin bring your face level with his, away from staring into the void behind his shoulder.

“The sex was good in there, but it didn’t resolve anything,” he reminds you softly. “We should talk it out before you get too far into your head.”

Fuck. He knows you so well. With a sigh and a blurry waterline, you lean against him, head resting on his shoulder so he doesn’t see.

“I just really missed you,” you start in a small voice. On your temple, he frowns. “And I know it’s kind of pathetic because we live together and you were only gone for three days but I just wish you would make up your mind about coming home or not. It’s just frustrating when you say you’ll be done in a couple hours but it turns out to be five. Or I wait up for you just for you to tell me you’re staying overnight. I know how important your work is, especially when you have a deadline, and I never want to take you away from it, but sometimes it feels like when I tell you to take a break, you act as if I’m asking you to stop altogether. I’m just trying to make sure you eat and rest properly so you don’t burn yourself out and get sick.” Your voice chokes the more you admit, and he lets your words hang in the air before rubbing his hand across the back of your shoulders. Resting his head on yours, he takes a deep breath.

“I love how supportive you are of my job and how much you worry about me, but I’m sorry I make you feel neglected. That’s never my intention.” You hum in acknowledgement and he squeezes the back of your neck.

“I mean, I’m not trying to dig myself out of the hole here, but a lot of the time when I come to a dead end with a project and feel like giving up, I think about you and how the faster I get done, the faster I can come home and devote all of my time to you.” You can’t hold back a sniffle. He frowns and gently pulls you by your shoulder and waist to press your fronts together. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest, along with your tears.

“I’m so sorry I made you upset, baby,” he whispers, his own voice choked up. “I just get stuck sometimes and it’s hard for me to give it a rest. Thank you for loving me so well that you knew when I needed you to come drag me out. And three days is way too long to not he home. I’m sorry I made you feel like it wasn’t.” You swallow a sob and hold him tighter.

“Well, I’m sorry I made you think I wanted Hoseok to fuck me.”

His nostrils flare with a small laugh. “I know you were just trying to piss me off. But I don’t know if I want us to make each other jealous by doing that anymore, y’know?”

You nod in quick understanding and he purrs gratefully, lifts a hand to gently tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Because I guess sometimes I just worry that you could do better.”

Your limbs freeze as his words sink in and spreads your blood thin. Placing your hands on his hips, you lean away to look right at him, eyebrows furrowing at his pained smile.

“That has to be the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever said.” Chewing the inside of his cheek, he suppresses a laugh.

“I’m serious.” You reach up to cup his jaw. “Don’t tell yourself that. I love you. You’re it for me, Yoongi.”

Starlight fills his eyes as he gazes down into your soul. He hugs you tightly, and whispers those same three words back, all of the weight he’s ever carried lifting off of his shoulders now that you’ve solidified that you’re his forever.

“I’m gonna do better to not spend so much time at the studio,” he promises, fingertips massaging the back of your head.

“Maybe just limit your overnighters to once a week.” He smiles, leans in to kiss you, hearts feeling warm and full. “I can work with that. And next time you want to blow me at work, try not to do it when one of my colleagues is in there.”

“Fine,” you sigh in exaggeration. “But at least admit that you liked it.”

“I plead the fifth.”

You roll your eyes. “It was a one time thing, so the least you can do is-”

He cuts you off with a kiss that wipes your brain clear of any thoughts.

“You were saying?” he mumbles against your lips with a knowing smirk.

“Fuck if I know,” you breathe and he chuckles.

Leaning back in, he kisses you slowly, thoughtfully for a few moments, then breaks away with eyes hazed with love and boops your nose.

“Why don’t we go shower and get dressed so I can take you out on a date, hm? We’ll go wherever you’d like.”

A bright and wide smile on your face, you tangle both of your hands together and lean up to kiss him. He melts into you and your heart glows as radiant as the rising sun. You break, and your cheeks burn when you notice how his have turned a noticeable shade of pink.

“Let’s both decide on a place. But maybe tomorrow or the day after when I can walk a little better.” He grins and kisses your forehead, softly pats your ass.

“Sounds good to me.”

.

.

.

Thanks for reading! i've had this sitting in my drafts for a while and finally got the courage to post it so I hope you enjoyed! lmk what you think if you want! Also im the queen of run-on sentences so i apologize for that! And some of it might seem kind of rushed, but i was really trying to keep it under 10k.

xxx - claret

p.s. check out my yoongi mafia series not in the cards if you haven't already! thanks again!!

[madridfangirl]

A Weekend in Ibiza - Part 4 (final)

(Jude Bellingham smut fic)

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

5.2k words. Jude*female reader. Smut & suggestive language. And many confused feelings.

A/n - When we don't get Jude holiday content (the kind with other women), we make shit up

................................................

You missed him.

Son of a bitch, you actually missed him.

Jude had left an hour after waking you up for an early morning tumble. It had been your idea, since he kept yapping in your ear after you two were done, with the typical annoying chirpiness of a morning person, while you just wanted to snuggle in the cozy sheets, & enjoy the pleasant relaxation washing over your muscles. So, you had nudged him to take care of whatever it was he needed to take care of and he had left, promising to return soon.

But now, you missed him. The room suddenly felt too big, too empty, too quiet without him. 

His cologne was still all over you, on the pillow next to you. The sheets reeking of his scent. His belongings spread on the side-table - an expensive looking watch, an LV waist pouch, and a box of condoms.

Would it be downright pathetic to ping him for an ETA?

YES. Your inner voice chided you, loudly.

Remember what this is. What you are to him. The flavour of the week, if even that. 

Fine, you were gonna wait. Let him take his sweet time. You’d rather die than be accused of being clingy, especially in this context.

It’s been 90 minutes, stop being so dramatic. Screamed your inner voice again.

You stretched your limbs before getting out of bed, sighing at the soreness. A hot bath was the need of the hour. And house keeping.

Twirling in front of the mirror in your new deep blue summer dress, another daring purchase for the trip, you wondered if he’d like this one. 

Well, he had liked blue on you yesterday. A lot.

Heck, it DID NOT matter. It SHOULD NOT matter. You were dressing for yourself. To look good for yourself. 

But a little bit for him too.

3 hours. He’d been gone three hours now. It was already 10 am. You started to wonder if he was coming back at all. But he left his stuff? Well it won’t even be pocket change to him. Did he get bored already? Moved on to finer pastures?

Right on cue, the door opened, taking you by surprise. Jude emerged, in all his glory. Donning a loose multi-coloured unbuttoned summer shirt, with matching shorts. Chiselled abs on full display. The chest hair, with a trail going down into his shorts. And then there were those legs. Despite your annoyed state, you nearly salivated at the sight. 

He was mumbling something about taking your keycard, in case you were still asleep. But you couldn’t register a word. Senses too distracted to focus.

Jude had this air about him - a casual nonchalance, an unshakable confidence, an inherent swag. Used to getting his way in life. Making the world bend to his will. It was sexy as hell. 

But it irked you too. Was it because he operated like he owned every room he walked into, and everyone in it? Or because you wanted to let him own you? You couldn’t tell anymore.

‘Could have knocked first.’

Jude cocked his head sideways at the comment, smirking mischievously, scanning you up & down. A sight for sore eyes. Blue really was your colour.

‘Nothing that I haven’t seen already.’

But something he’d like to see a lot more of. All day today. The dress looked like a million dollars on you, but he’d still prefer it on the floor.

Your hands gripped your dress (a movement his eyes followed), to curb the shiver running down your arms. Even while being arrogant, he was still charming.

‘Someone else could have been here with me.’

You managed to find your wits, and shot back. 

His whole demeanour changed. Features hardening, gaze intensifying, as he stepped closer. Subconsciously, you retreated, gasping when your back hit the desk. He stood toe to toe now, towering over you. Your fingers started fiddling aimlessly as you avoided his burning glare, realising you had touched a nerve. HARD. 

The tension in the air reverberated through your body and you jumped when his large hands gripped your ass, kneading the exact spot he had spanked yesterday. The residual sting making you whimper & bite your lip, drawing his attention to your mouth.

Jude bent down, biting your earlobe, drawing another whimper, as he whispered in a low, raspy, menacing tone.

‘I NEVER share what’s MINE, especially when I have wanted it so much.’

You wobbled, and clutched his biceps for support, as his hand slid under your dress & found your dripping core. 

‘Already?’

The tone was half-mocking, half-proud, as he cupped you over your panties, your legs spreading on their own accord to accommodate his hand. Then, with a measured move, he lightly slapped you there. Sending shockwaves through your nerves.

You mewled and fell forward onto his chest. Stunned & turned on beyond any fathomable limits. Moaning his name, sounding unabashedly needy.

That proved to be his undoing. 

You found yourself bent over the desk, face down into the glass top, your dress yanked down & pushed up to pool at your waist, your hips adjusted to his preferred angle, your panties discarded somewhere, your hands struggling to find some kind of purchase on the glass, your shaky breaths making patterns on the sheer surface.

Vulnerable and spread open for him. Exactly as he liked.

A quick preparation with his fingers, and he was sliding inside you, groaning at the hot, tight squeeze of your walls, stretching you fully. Your back arched, as your body struggled to take him in. But he kept going, till he bottomed out. 

Sounds of sex filled the room - your choked moans, his uneven grunts, his body slapping against yours, while yours slapped against the desk. Your nails scratched on the glass, his angles shooting sensations up & down your spine, hitting spots inside you didn’t know existed. The rapid movement of your bare nipples pressed on the cold glass made you scream. Which brought him out of whatever trance he was in.

Jude paused instantly, bent down, & brought his face to the side of yours.

‘What’s wrong?’

Words failed you. Somehow, you managed to point to your chest. He understood, bringing one arm underneath your breasts, shielding them from the glass. You whimpered at the relief. He stayed put, unmoving, panting over your neck.

‘Too much? Should I stop?’

Your nervous shake of head was all the signal he needed. He went again, tad slower this time, but still rocking your world in a thousand different ways. Making you see stars & entire galaxies as your vision blurred. Your scream when you came was muffled by the glass, and you were far too overstimulated to register his groan as he climaxed soon after.

Jude put his hands on either side of you, half-bending, half-standing, still buried inside, as he came down from his high. Looking over your spent form.

As you stayed half passed out, few things became clear in your mind about him. 1) He was possessive to the hilt. 2) He liked to take from behind when he was in the mood for fucking / hard sex. Face to face was for softer, calmer, gentler situations, like this morning. 3) He was as much a boobs guy as an ass guy. 4) Football wasn’t his only natural gift, to the point it was unfair to other men. No way they could compare to the whole package that was him, and he knew that all too well. 5) His dominance and aggression didn’t end on the football pitch, he brought it to bed too.

Lost in these thoughts, you didn’t register when he carried you bridal-style to bed, looked you over for any bruises (he was kicking himself hard for not factoring in the glass top properly), cleaned you & tucked the blanket over you.

Only coming to your senses when you were pulled against a hard muscular body, laying on your side, his arms wrapped around you, his cheek caressing yours, as you heard him mutter softly.

‘Say something. Please.’

Jude had been half-hard before he walked in, the hours away were literal physical torture. Then that dress, and especially your comment made him tip over the edge. He hadn’t planned to be rough, not so soon in the day at least. Definitely not after last night.

You sighed as he showered you with forehead kisses, somehow re-discovering your voice.

‘You snore in your sleep.’

Amused, he turned his face slightly to look at you, then laughed an infectious laugh, his whole body shaking with the sensation, as he squeezed you lightly in his hold, bringing a smile to your tired face.

‘Well, we have already established you are a liar.’

‘Please, have the others not told you this?’

He didn’t usually sleep in the same bed with the others all night, not so soundly anyway. Even on some rare occasions, he parted ways swiftly in the morning, without much conversation. What was happening right now was not the norm, it was a massively astronomical exception. Something he was still struggling to wrap his head around.

‘Stay a few days more?’

That came out of nowhere, even for him. 

She turned her head, looking at him oddly.

‘Can’t. Work calls.’

‘Say you’re sick. Or, if your boss likes football, tell him he can have season tickets in whichever stadium he wants.’

You rose up on your elbows, to laugh at his silliness. But he looked sincere so you changed tact.

‘Clearly you haven’t worked in a corporate before.’

He hadn’t. And that effectively shut him up on the topic.

Few lazy minutes passed in silence. Your fingers traced patterns on his chest, half laying over him,  while his fingers carded through your open messy hair.

‘You really don’t do this, do you?’

He didn’t need to elaborate. You understood he was referring to casual sex.

‘I meant what I said earlier. Every word.’

‘Then why this? Why me?’

He sounded sincere, not trying to fish for compliments or anything, genuinely curious to know.

Because it became physically impossible to resist you.

‘An adventure I guess.’

You shrugged, trying to not give away anything more. Anything real. Anything about the state of desperation he had put you in.

He hummed, as he mulled over it.

‘And this trip was an adventure too?’

This time you didn’t need to lie.

‘Kinda. Work was getting a bit much. Needed this mini escape.’

‘Me too.’

He blurted out, again out of nowhere. Jude started to wonder if he was coming down with some kind of bug or something. 

‘Like how?’

He had sworn not to dwell on this, to leave it behind on the field, like he had promised his mum. But it was easier said than done. 

You sensed the heaviness in the air, and in his mood. Your hand moved to his face, stroking it gently, nudging him to continue. He accepted the comfort, leaning into your palm.

‘Lost a very important final for my country. Couldn’t play my best. Failed them.’

You didn’t know what to say to that. It must have been hard to deal with, and almost impossible to forget. 

‘Well, you have a long journey ahead. Second chances will come.’

He shut his eyes, not wanting to reveal the heartbreak. But his expressive face did the talking. 

‘This was the second chance. A third chance rather. And we blew it. I blew it. They won’t forgive me.’

His face contorted, and he sank further into the mattress.

The words clutched at your heart, and his pain hurt your soul. Deeply.

‘Heyyyy, look at me.’

He didn’t. He couldn’t. Still too raw inside.

You climbed on top of him and smothered his perfectly symmetrical face with kisses, every inch of it, slowly. Then moved to his lips, giving them a quick peck, which he reciprocated. Moving below, you brushed your lips against his long neck, as his hands unfisted from the sheet, wrapping around your waist. Your whole body weight was on him now, which he seemed to welcome.

But he was still hiding from you, behind closed lids.

Your thumbs massaged the frown lines on his forehead, soothing them, as you bit the tip of his nose affectionately. He sighed, a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

‘If you care this much, then you’ll make it happen again. And this time, you’ll go over the line. Just need to keep believing and working for it.’

Finally, he popped his eyes open, flashing a delicate, hopeful smile. You smiled back and leaned in to peck his nose again, but pulled you in for a deep passionate kiss, only breaking it when he sensed your breathlessness, & let you roll off of him. 

Jude turned to his side, eyes roaming your spent form (you hadn’t even bothered to pull up the blanket), as his warm hand splayed on your stomach.

‘We need to work on your stamina.’

Offended, you tried to push him away, but he stayed put & giggled at your meek efforts. 

‘Well, I am not a professional athlete, hello? And….I don’t do all this….stuff…nowhere as frequently as you. So, I am good, thanks.’

‘But what if someday you want to try more?’

Irritated, you decided to get back at him, knowing he won’t be able to retaliate given his guilt over your exhausted state.

‘Yeah, like what? A threesome maybe?’

That wiped the smile off his face. Good start, then.

‘Not gonna lie, it’s always been a fantasy having both of these (you pointed to your tits) sucked simultaneously.’

Jude had recovered enough to catch on to your little game by now. 

‘Careful, doll.’

You ignored him completely. Having tasted blood, you couldn’t stop, going for the kill.

‘Anyone from your entourage, maybe? Or a teammate? Cama looked cute on your Insta, is he here by…’

Jude didn’t let you finish. In a flash, he was on top of you, pinning your hands over your head as his mouth claimed yours in a punishing kiss. You squirmed under him, to no avail. 

‘Threesome huh?

He barked in between demanding kisses.

‘You barely take ME fully and you want another man? Tell me, how will you take two together? WHERE will the other one go?’

For the second time today, you realised you had bitten more than you could chew. The bear had been well & truly poked.

‘Here?’

He shoved two fingers in your mouth, past your gag reflex. Eyes wild, showing you what he was picturing.

You shook your head from side to side, desperate to hold on to at least some of your erstwhile principles. And panted when he withdrew his fingers.

His hand slid behind you, poking at the back entrance. Your whole body jolted at the touch, and the implication, as you tried to peel his hand away.

‘No? Didn’t think so.’

Next, he gruffly squeezed your boobs close, admiring the valley in between.

‘Now this is tempting, but still not enough to climax. Which leaves this.’

Jude grabbed your right hand, looking straight into your flustered eyes. Challenge loud & clear in his animalistic gaze.

You wanted to run. At the same time, you wanted to meet him head on, to wrestle the control back.

He could tell you were considering it, and pounced on the opportunity, dragging your hand to his briefs, over his crotch. You both gasped at the touch.

‘Yes? Say yes.’

You couldn’t deny him. You didn’t wanna deny yourself either, curious about what he’d feel like.

The moment you nodded, he ripped away his briefs, and brought your hand back over his already excited member, covering it with his. Guiding your motions.

Your eyes widened at the feel of him - he hadn’t put on a condom this time, wanting you skin to skin. No barriers.

‘Come here doll, let me show you.’

Jude proved to be a good teacher. And you had always been a good student. Keen, curious, eager, fast learner. And in this specific instance, deeply enchanted with a gorgeously horny boy, therefore extra motivated to be good for him.

Going by his grunts, you WERE good. Considering the way his eyes were rolling to the back of his head, you were better than good. He grabbed your face and smashed his lips to yours, cursing into your mouth, while his hand continued to guide yours, going at a frantic pace now.

Throughout, you couldn’t sway your eyes from his face. Every little twitch imprinted deep into your mind, a core memory even. One could climax just looking at him like that. If you weren’t so sore & spent right now….

‘FUCKING HELL.’

He came with a groan. Splashing everywhere. Making a complete filthy mess of the sheets. And of you.

He panted against your lips, slowly calming down, plopping back on the pillow. While you remained dazed by what you had just done & witnessed.

After a few minutes, he gathered you in his arms again, carrying you to the shower. You welcomed the comfort of hot water, and the support of his body engulfing yours, keeping you from crumbling. The sight of him under the water, all wet & glistening, was pornographic. Another memory stored for life.

A nap seemed super enticing post the shower. Wrapped in bath robes, limbs intertwined, you both fell into a relaxing sleep. When you woke up, it was time for lunch. Jude knew the drill by now, quietly hiding in the washroom when the waiter came with the tray. Both had built an appetite, so the food felt extra delicious.

Post lunch, you cleared out a few emails on your laptop, preparing for tomorrow, while he sat next to you, watching some pre-season match on TV, head resting over your shoulder. It was impairing the movement of your arm as you typed but you were never going to make him move. 

‘So, where do you work?’

You paused, and gave him a side-eye.

‘You are not supposed to know.’

‘Jeez, I mean which city.’ 

‘Amsterdam for the next 5 weeks. Then, back home.’

‘And where’s home?’

‘Far away. Not in Europe.’

You kept typing, eyes firmly on the screen, and Jude understood he wasn’t going to get anything  more than this.

‘Wherever it is, I could fly you out, you know.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Fly you out, to Madrid. To be with me. Whenever we want.’

To be his booty call is what he meant. Now you understood. Is that what he did with others too? All part of some playbook? Well, she wasn’t going to become another entry in the long list of girls he had at his beck and call. 

‘Jude, I told you this was going to be just one weekend. Then we go back to our lives.’

‘I know, but, why is that set it stone?’

‘Because this is not me. I can’t go about my life while still doing this.’

‘But why? 

‘Why? Because I don’t recognise the person I am right now. I am not so rash, carefree, whimsical, BOLD. This is an anomaly. And for what it’s worth, I like who I am in my real life. I have my own little world that I am content with. My own principles, which I stand by. Taking an 8-10 hr flight for hook-ups does not really fit into my scheme of things. I’d much rather wait for a real relationship, stick to my beliefs.’

Jude listened intently, soaking in every said and unsaid thing, trying to get to the root of what was getting you so riled up.

But he had always been a straightforward person. Didn’t like living with regrets. Go after what you want was his mantra.

‘Do you like the person you are right now, with me?’

You stared open mouthed, connecting the dots of how he was trying to check-mate you.

‘I am not gonna play this game with you.’

‘It’s not a game. Maybe the universe is sending you a message.’

‘I highly doubt the universe would be messaging me to keep hooking up with you. Universe has better things to do than that.’

‘Has this been so forgettable for you, then?’

He knocked the wind out of your chest with the poignance of his words and the disarming vulnerability of his voice. You felt lightheaded, and reached for his arm to steady yourself. Your tone softened.

‘I - I never said that. Never meant that.’

‘Then why are you so cross with me? Looking at me like that. Was it so wrong to want to see you again?’

You scooted closer, towards his body heat, and rested your head on his shoulder.

‘Didn’t mean to. I guess shit just got too real when you said that.’

And because you hadn’t still fully come to terms with the choices you had made this weekend. Deciding to continue it will not let it remain an anomaly, and will go against everything you believe in. No, you can’t fall for this. Will have to resist the temptation that was this man. Cut the chord this weekend, for the sake of your sanity. And return to normalcy. Never letting a single soul know what happened here.

He was quiet. And still. Processing the rejection. You climbed into his lap, cupped his jaw, gazing into his turbulent eyes.

‘We still have half a day. Let’s not spoil our remaining time together?’

He didn’t say anything, just looked at you with a blank expression, and you threw your arms around his shoulders, hugging him close. Feeling a strange sense of guilt. But you hadn’t done anything wrong, this had always been the arrangement. He was anyway going to get bored of this (you) soon even if you had agreed to continue. This was for the best. A clean cut.

Then why was it eating away at you? Making your insides churn?

‘Please, Jude. Please, just..’

You snuggled your head into the crook of his neck, and felt his arms settle around you. He lifted you out of his lap and made you lay on your back, as his eyes roamed over you. And his mind worked extra time to arrive at a decision. You waited patiently.

‘How much do you like this dress?’

A lot.

‘Do whatever you want.’

He tore it off, ripping with force, taking his frustration out on it. Laying you bare for him.

But he wasn’t rough. No, what happened over the next hour was more intense than even any BDSM out there. 

Because, Jude made love to you. Worshipped your body. Touched you in ways that was ruining you for other men. Whispered such things in your ear that no other voice would ever be good enough. Looked at you with such longing & passion that you could see your image in his honeyed orbs. Kissed you so fervently that you were becoming addicted to his lips. Sucked your boobs so thoroughly that you almost came just from that. Ate you out with such determination like his life depended on it. Fucked you to oblivion, to the point you thought you were getting a stroke. Made you peak over & over, like he was trying to set a new record in the history of mankind. 

All while never breaking eye contact with you, never letting you slip away or hide from him.

You could tell he was proving a point, showing you what you would be missing out on. That the two of you still had a lot more to discover together. That only he could make you feel a certain way. And that sex with him can be like this also - more, different, real. Not just a sating of lust.

But you had to stay strong. Because if you fall, it’s gonna be a slippery slope. A bottomless pit. You had so much more to lose in this, because he clearly was not ready for anything more. Even if he didn’t fully realise that, you could tell as much. And this half-in, half-out arrangement would be a recipe for disaster in your life.

As your sweaty bodies laid intertwined with each others, basking in the afterglow, you couldn’t resist placing little kisses on his chest, earning sweet sighs from him.

It was almost evening now. Only a few more hours left with him. 

You had to pack, book your cab to the airport, do your web checkin. And call home - since you had been practically MIA for two days. So much to do, but you couldn’t move from his side. Just a few more mins like this.

Finally, you got up, moving around the room to gather your stuff. While he laid on his stomach, towards the edge of the bed, arms crossed & tucked under his chin, just watching you silently.

‘You…don’t have to stay if you are getting bored, you know.’

‘Do you want me to leave?’

You zipped your bag and kneeled in front of him, cupping his cheeks with both hands.

‘I want you to stay.’

‘I want you to stay too.’

You sighed, pressing your foreheads together, unable to respond in any other way. Because there was nothing to say.

‘How about dinner on the balcony? And some wine?’

You tried to sound enthused, looking at him expectantly. He gave in.

‘I have a bottle you’d really like.’

The dinner was light, neither of you in the mood for anything elaborate. The wine was heavenly though, you hummed appreciatively with every sip during your first glass. Later, both of you gulped it down fast, to fill in the awkward silence, emptying the bottle in an hour.

You swayed a little as you walked to the railing, soaking in the sound of the waves and the moonlight dancing on it.

Jude stayed on the couch, eyes firmly glued to you. The silver nightdress shone in the moonlight, creating a halo like effect. An elusive, mysterious fairy, who was flying away from him in a few hours. Never to be seen again. Pangs of a strange, hitherto unknown emotion gripped his heart.  And he closed the distance between you two, while he still could.

Strong arms came around your waist, holding you gently. You leaned back into his chest, as your hand reached behind to stroke his face.

‘Won’t you miss this?’

Wine had numbed your filters and inhibitions. You couldn’t lie anymore. Couldn’t pretend.

‘I will.’

‘No one special back home then? Someone who could make you feel this way?’

‘No.’

His lips brushed your shoulder, sending a shiver down your back. The cool night air adding to the charged touch, as his fingers played with the strap of your nightdress.

‘So let me have you till then. Till there is….till you find…..and then you can…..’

He couldn’t bring himself to say the rest - the sheer thought of you settling down with someone so unpleasant, like a punch in the gut.

‘If you are around, I won’t be able to.’

He was dangerous, so dangerous for your sanity.

He had gotten what he initially wanted - your body. Why wasn’t that enough? Why was he asking for more than you could give? Why did he want to come for your soul, your heart too?

‘You won’t know till you actually try. Maybe I’ll change your mind. Or maybe you’ll change mine.’

Another emotional whiplash with his thoroughly befuddling words. Chipping away at the carefully constructed shield around your heart.

It had to stop. This had to change course.

‘Please, this is the wine talking. You’ll be repeating this to someone else a few days later.’

‘You think so? You think I’d jump in bed with someone else straightway? Like tomorrow?’

His grip became firmer. On your body. And your senses.

‘Won’t you?’

‘Would you like that?’

‘It’s none of my business.’

‘WOULD YOU LIKE THAT? Answer me.’

‘Jude please…’

He flipped you by your waist, grabbing the back of your neck.

‘Stubborn. So stubborn.’

A wet, needy make-out ensued, where you met him halfway. Gripping your butt, he lifted you up as your legs wrapped around his waist. 

But he didn’t take you inside, settling on the balcony couch instead, making you straddle his thighs.

‘Not outside.’

‘Yes outside.’

‘But…’

‘It’s dark. No one can see us. Trust me.’

He lifted your nightdress over your head, pleased to find you naked underneath. His briefs were quickly discarded too, as he started to pull you down over himself, spearing you with this angle, while his mouth wreaked havoc on your chest, and his hands roamed your back with abandon.

For one last time, you submitted to him. Wholeheartedly. Just laying in his arms as he took you on a joyride. His hands doing most of the work when your legs couldn’t keep up with his thrusts.

‘How are you still so tight? After everything?’

Your body was filled with his marks and bruises, and you refused to even acknowledge the unseen marks he had left on you. The way he had penetrated the depths of your conscience. Clawing his way in.

Tears started to pool at the corner of your eyes, but you fought them valiantly. Not letting him see.

Jude had finally been able to put a finger on the strange emotion he had been feeling all day. It was desperation. He was desperate to not let you disappear forever. Feeling completely powerless - he’d never been on the receiving end of this before.

‘At least give me your Insta.’

He mumbled as you both were close, his strokes becoming sloppy.

‘I won’t follow. Won’t do anything to draw attention to you. But at least I’d be able to see you.’

But then he’d know who you were. Where you lived. Where you worked. He’d be able to find you, reach out to you. And this weekend won’t remain your secret only. 

‘Let me…think about that…yeah?’

You kissed him, shutting down any further protests, taking in the feel of his lips. For the final time. You moaned into each others mouths as you fell apart together. Wrapped around each other. Naked on a balcony. Under the dim moonlight. 

He carried you back to bed, settling in next to you. Both too emotionally & physically exhausted. You clung to him, moulding your body to his, snuggling into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you both willed yourselves to go to sleep. With a heavy heart.

Next morning, when he woke up, you were gone. Unable to handle the prospect of another goodbye, plus not wanting to wake him up after he had twisted & turned restlessly most of the night. Frankly, you weren’t sure you had it in you to leave if he woke up and looked at you in that trademark way of his.

He understood why you did what you did, looking around the now empty room. Not knowing what to do next. Feeling a sense of loss he didn’t know how to process. Needing a hug from his mum.

Just then, he saw a note on your pillow, carefully tucked under the TV remote.

‘I’ll always remember you. Please know, this was the only way.

Love,

Your first name.’

That made him smile. He said your name over & over, deciding it suited you perfectly. The signature making his heart flutter a bit.

He clicked a photo of the note. As a plan formed in his head. Of another post, drawing you back in. He knew you’d be checking his profile, maybe even following him by now. Yeah, he’d get you back, he just knew it already!

.............................................................

And there it is, the final chapter. This was meant to be a 2 part series but your love & feedback kept it going.

Thank you, I am so grateful. And I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this final instalment :)