#that will never see the light of day (probably) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mymindisneverhere · 1 day ago

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Other Side

summary: Kelvin tries to break you out of your shell… unaware of who would actually come out.

warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI!, shy black fem!reader (kinda), small mention of depression, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names. (Forgive me if I forgot any)

(a/n: I licked the screen a few times when I came across this picture but that’s not important. 🫢)

“Kelvin!” He heard his name being called from across the room causing him to snap his head in the direction of the voice.

“Yo!” Kelvin said, pointing to his long time friend Aaron. He made his way through the crowd of people on the dance floor until he reached his friend. “What’s up bro? It’s good to see you.”

“You as well bro!” The London native spoke over the loud music. Aaron and Kelvin slapped hands and pulled each other into the universal bro hug before falling into conversation. “You didn’t get lost did you?”

“Nah, I mean the sign is big as hell on the front of the building.” Kelvin said. “But man, I can’t believe you actually came out and came to a club at that.”

“It’s my girls birthday tonight bro, she begged me to drive her and her friends around for the day.” Aaron said.

“I was about to say, she must’ve dragged your ass out the house cause ain’t no way you came on your own.” Kelvin joked, receiving an annoyed look from Aaron.

“Whatever man.” He said, returning his attention to the dance floor where his girlfriend stood with one of her best friends.

Kelvin stood next to Aaron, eyeing the crowd as he nodded his head to the music blasting throughout the club. The men stood against the wall chatting about the atmosphere in the late night lounge, ordering drinks and speaking to some friends that passed by occasionally.

Kelvin continued sipping on the alcoholic beverage as his eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on you. He slowly lowered the cup from his lips as he watched you make your way to the dance floor. Your beauty had him stuck in a trance.

Your beautiful brown skin glowed under the blue and pink lighting that flashed from the ceiling. You wore a white halter top and matching mini skirt that hugged your hips just right and put your legs on full display. Your thick thighs glistened from the body shimmer you wore as you took steps across the floor. Your strapped heels elongated your legs causing you to appear much taller than you actually were.

Kelvin stared at you as you joined your two best friends on the dance floor. You hugged your best friend Tati before finally pulling Jamie, the birthday girl, into a warm embrace. He watched as Jamie whispered to you, causing you both to turn and look up at the two men that were already eyeing you guys. You all waved, mainly to speak to Aaron but Kelvin waved back so caught up in the trance you had unintentionally lured him into. You all turned back around and fell back into the beat of the music but Kelvin kept his eyes on you.

“Bro, who is that?” Kelvin asked, tapping Aaron on the shoulder.

Aaron frowned and followed Kelvin’s eyes that were still glued to you. “Who? Y/N?”

“All white with the legs? Her name is Y/N?” Kelvin asked.

“Yeah man, that’s Jamie’s best friend.” Aaron said. He looked down at Kelvin and noticed the look of awe on his face, practically drooling as his mouth hung open. “Take a picture man, it’ll last longer.”

Kelvin smacked his lips, finally taking his eyes off you and cutting them at Aaron.

“Relax bro, she’s not one to date.” Aaron started, “She’s super shy, very quiet. She barely says two words to me when she comes over to visit Jamie. She’s extremely introverted.”

“So?” Kelvin asked, shrugging his shoulders. “What does that mean?”

“She probably won’t talk to you because you’re always on 10 no matter where you are.”

Kelvin paused and looked over at Aaron. “That never stopped you from hanging with me.”

“I tolerate you, there’s a difference.” Aaron joked, before taking a sip of his beverage.

“Wow, okay.” Kelvin said, playfully rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. “I bet I can get her to talk to me, everyone loves me.”

Aaron’s eyebrows raised as he stopped himself from uttering another smart remark to his friend. “Whatever you say man.”

Kelvin and Aaron continued going back and forth, betting on whether or not Kelvin would be able to have a full conversation with you. After a long argument, the two men decided to bet only $100 if Kelvin could get you to talk to him before the night was over.

“Where are y’all going after this?”

“Dinner at Grand Lux.”

“Perfect, we’ll chat over dinner, I’ll pay for her food.” Kelvin said. “I’ll even offer to take her home cause I’m a gentleman.”

You danced with your girls as the three of you stood a few feet away from the DJ booth. You all moved your hips to the beat, flipping your hair over your shoulders and hyping each other up one at a time. It took you a few minutes to get comfortable on the dance floor. All it had taken was the DJ playing your favorite song “Where Them Girls At by Megan Thee Stallion” and you were falling into your own rhythm with your friends being your personal hype girls.

“Okay Y/N, it’s about time you popped out girl!” Tati yelled over the loud music.

“I know right!” Jamie said. “She’s finally having a good time after keeping herself in the house, hiding out from the world.”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, laughing at your friends.

Tati looked over where Aaron stood with Kelvin and her eyes almost jumped out of her head. “How the hell did you manage to get Grandpa out of the house?” Tati asked, still dancing to the music.

“I told him if he did this favor for me then I’d do one for him all night.” Jamie responded with a smirk on her face.

You and Tati rolled your eyes, instantly catching onto exactly what Jamie had been referring to.

“I don’t wanna start nothing but his friend has been starin’ at Y/N since she walked in.” Tati said, looking over at Chelsea.

“He’s still staring as we speak.” Jaime said.

You all turned to look over to see him staring. The two men waved at you once more which caused you to quickly turn your attention back to your friends.

“I’m not interested.” You said, trying to hide yourself from his gaze.

“Come on Y/N, it’s been forever since the breakup.” Jamie said. “Plus he’s super cool, he has a beautiful smile and he is funny as hell, just your type! He and Aaron have been friends for years, I think you should talk to him.”

“I’m good Jamie, besides it’s your night. I didn’t come out looking for a man.” You said, trying to take the attention off of you and revert it back to the birthday girl.

Tati and Jamie exchanged a knowing look between one another but decided to leave the situation alone. After you found out about your ex-boyfriend cheating on you with an old friend, you slowly sank into a deep depression. You stopped going out, stopped answering phone calls and stopped caring about how you looked or what you wore. What was only supposed to be a few months of recovery from the break up, ended up being an entire year of hiding out.

However, thanks to your friends Jamie and Tati, you were slowly coming back to yourself. Although you weren’t the life of the party type of girl, you always managed to have a good time when you were with them. You were shy, you were reserved, and sometimes a bit reluctant when it came to going after the things that you wanted. But somehow, you’d always find yourself neglecting your shyness and converting to your “alter ego”.

Jamie was well aware of your ability to let loose but because it rarely occurred you guys never spoke about it. Jamie had been the only person to know about your “other side” until you introduced that part of you to your now ex-boyfriend. Due to the fact that he’d taken advantage of you, completely betraying your trust and acting as if you meant nothing to him, this made you never want to introduce that part of herself to anyone ever again… especially a man.

“Aaron’s outside waiting for us. We’re heading downtown to Grand Lux after we leave here.” Jamie announced to the two of you.

You both nodded and made your way to the bathroom holding hands as you broke through the crowd of people. Each of you took a look in the mirror before applying another layer of gloss, fluffing your hair and entering the stalls to finish your business.

You stood in the stall and took a few deep breaths attempting to mentally prepare yourself for dinner at Grand Lux. Your nerves were getting the best of you. You had managed to avoid men, not even giving them the smallest of conversation. But you knew that there would be no ending the night without interacting with Kelvin.

‘God please don’t let him sit next to me. He is too damn fine.’ You thought to yourself.

“Y/N you alright in there?” Tati said, banging on the stall door.

“Yeah, I was just checking my phone.” You replied, raising your foot to flush the toilet.

You stepped out of the stall and made your way to the sink to wash your hands. You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and turned to Jamie. After running down the route to the restaurant and approximately how long it’ll take to get there, the three of you were all set and ready to go.

————————————-

“What took you all so long?” Aaron asked, staring down at Jamie.

“Girl stuff.” She replied as she took his hand and stepped into the all black truck, taking a seat directly behind his chair.

Aaron stood and helped you and Tati into the truck as well before closing the door and getting into the driver's seat.

“Babe, where’s Kelvin?” Jamie asked.

“He’s going to meet us there.” Aaron responded, putting the car in drive and pulling out of the club's parking lot.

The three of you fell into conversation completely ignoring the fact that Aaron was upfront, able to hear every word.

“You’re not nervous are you?”

“No it’s just that-“ You began, “It’s been so long, too long, since I’ve even looked at a guy. I don’t think I’m ready to entertain someone right now.”

“Look, nobody is saying you have to take him seriously or get with him to see if he’s husband material.” Tati said.

“Right!” Jamie agreed. “Just have a little fun with him. There’ll already be a friend there for Tati and now there’s a friend for you.”

You looked between the two girls unsure of what to say next. You were contemplating on whether or not you should take their advice or continue to avoid men who showed any interest in you. Letting out a breath, you sat back in your seat and nodded, deciding to take one for the team.

“He's a pretty cool guy.” Aaron casually stated, interrupting you guys’ conversation. The three of you snapped your heads in his direction, completely confused on why he was even entering the conversation to begin with.

“Sorry.” He said, looking into the rear view mirror quickly before returning his eyes to the road.

“He is a cool guy though.” Jamie said, turning to you. “Trust me, you’ll have fun.”

‘They’re right, just have fun. Nothing serious.’ You thought.

“Okay, let’s see how the night goes.” You finally said, causing your friends to both squeal in excitement.

——————————————————

You all sat around a large table enjoying your meals and joining in conversations. Jaime sat next to Aaron who sat next to Kelvin who sat next to you… who had been picking over your food since it arrived at the table. Your nerves wouldn’t allow you to even take a nibble of the pasta that sat in front of you.

Kelvin had tried his hardest to get you to engage in conversation but it wasn’t going too well. Your short responses never left room for the conversation to go any further, eventually leading to an awkward silence after each attempt.

“Ow!” You yelped, reaching down to rub your knee after you felt a sharp heel kick you.

“You okay?” Kelvin asked, looking over at you in concern.

You looked up at Tati who was staring at you with wide eyes. You frowned as you watched Tatis lips move without sound.

“Say something!” Tati mouthed, moving her lips in exaggeration to be sure you understood her.

“Yeah I’m fine, just moving too much I guess.” You responded with a nervous chuckle. “I didn’t scare you did I?”

“Nah, of course not.” Kelvin stated. “It’s okay though, I’m always bumping into stuff.

Kelvin’s attempt at easing the embarrassment he saw in your face had worked as a small smile crept onto your face.

“So how was it starring in such a classic film?” You asked, looking over at him. You could see the shock in his face before it quickly washed away. He couldn’t believe you were actually asking him a question after thirty minutes of him playing 21 questions with you.

“Man it was so much, let me tell you about it.” Kelvin instantly fell deep into the story of how it felt to be working with some of the most talented people in the industry. You were so caught up in his storytelling, you didn’t notice the waiter place a tall martini next to your water that had gone untouched. You could see Jamie’s hand waving at you from the corner of your eye.

“I got you a drink!” She whispered, trying her hardest not to interrupt your talk with Kelvin.

Leaning up from the table, you reached over to grab the drink and began taking small sips from the glass. After a few more minutes of engaging in conversation, and another martini, you were feeling the effects of the alcohol. The more Kelvin spoke, the more it was hard to focus on his eyes because his lips were catching your attention with every word he said. Your eyes slightly fell low as they landed on his lips and then back onto his eyes. The expression in your face didn’t go unnoticed as Kelvin slowly stopped talking, watching your eyes dart slowly back and forth between his mouth and his eyes.

You weren’t doing this on purpose but it was something about you and your liquor that just brought out that other side of you. You could feel a slight throbbing between your legs as he slowly pressed his back against his chair. He was slightly matching your energy, unsure if he was doing too much or if he was even in control of what he was doing. It was as if the more he stared at you, the less power he had over his own body.

”Why did you stop talking?” You asked, genuinely confused as to why he became so silent.

“Uh, I don’t even know.” He said, sitting up straight and snatching his eyes off of you. He looked down at his plate and then back over to you before quickly tearing them from your gaze again and looking elsewhere. You placed your elbow onto the table and rested your chin in your hand.

“I would love to hear the rest if you’re still interested in telling me about it.” Your voice had become a bit calm, almost too calm. Kelvin was struggling with keeping his eyes on yours, your gaze was too intense for him. He had sensed the shift in your energy and was completely taken aback by the effect it was having on him.

“Uh yeah, sure. I- uh,” He started, pushing himself further into the table, trying to hide what was happening below his waist. Kelvin was few seconds too late, seeing as though you had already noticed the slight bulge in his pants. You licked your lips as the images of him fucking your throat invading your thoughts.

“Y/N, we’re getting ready to leave. You coming?” Jamie asked, raising her brows hoping you would say…

”Actually, Kelvin’s gonna take me home.” You said, before looking at him. “You’re okay with that right?”

”Yeah, for sure.” He nodded quickly, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Okay girl, you two be safe!” Tati winked at you, hinting at your drive home and any other activities that may take place between you and Kelvin.

———————————-

The ride to your apartment was silent, mainly because Kelvin was at a loss for words. He was excited to talk to you, he had looked forward to it since he laid eyes on you at the club but for some reason he was feeling too many things that would contradict his claim at being a gentleman.

The same trance he was in at the club had managed to creep back up on him. Only it had been more intense, a bit more than he could handle. Having you close up, staring into his soul was damn near hypnotizing. He wasn’t a man who shied away from anything but you had him feeling nervous to look over at you, afraid he might fall into the trance all while driving. He didn’t wanna fall victim to your eyes once again.

”You know, I was nervous to talk to you at first.” You said, looking over at him as he drove.

”Really?” He asked. “Why is that?”

”It’s just been a while since I’ve talked to a guy.” You turned your body toward him causing him to look out the corner of his eye. “Something as simple as casual conversation seemed like too much to handle but you're really easy to talk to.”

”That’s good to hear, I’m glad I could ease some of the tension.” He said, smiling slightly.

“Can I ease yours?” You could tell this question caught him off guard as you felt your body jerk against the seatbelt. He had accidentally pressed the break a bit too hard, making you both lean forward a bit.

“Sorry.” He laughed nervously, quickly looking over at you then back to the road. “I’m not feeling any tension right now.”

”I can see it.” You said, dropping your eyes to his crotch before returning them back to his face.

“I mean but I’d like to think of myself as a gentleman. I just met you, you just met me.” Kelvin was babbling, panicking at your sudden change in demeanor. You had managed to go from timid to down right audacious, completely catching him off guard. He didn't know what to think at this moment, let alone what to say. You smirked to yourself, enjoying the power you were having over him. You had been so hung up on saving the other side of you for someone special, completely neglecting the fact that you deserved a good time as well. Who said you couldn’t let that other part of you come out and play for just one night?

“Can you multitask?” You asked, sitting up in the passenger seat.

“Uh, yeah. Why?” Kelvin said, shifting his gaze between you and the road. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he tried to imagine what you were about to do.

You smirked before undoing your seatbelt and sitting up on your knees, lightly leaning over the armrest. Kelvin’s eyes cut to the corners as he watched you reach for his belt. The sound of the buckle jiggling was the only sound in the car as you worked on pulling his dick out of his pants.

“You don’t wanna um- wait until um- the car is parked?” Kelvin asked nervously, still struggling to keep his eyes on the road.

“No.”

You pulled at the waist of pants until his dick sprang up. You bit down on your lip as you looked down at it. It was exactly what you expected, thick and veiny. You bent down and wrapped your lips around the head earning a sigh of satisfaction from Kelvin. Quickly coating the head with your saliva, you leaned down even further to take in more of him. He reached over to run his hand down your ass, pressing his fingers against the wet spot in your panties.

You bobbed your head up and down, feeling his legs underneath you jump a bit. He was having a hard time keeping his speed consistent. Each time you took all of him in he’d press the gas harder, causing your body to rock a bit from the jerk of the car.

“Fuck!” He spat, slapping your ass before running his fingers down your center. Moving as quickly as he could without interrupting his driving, he hooked a finger underneath your thong and pulled it around your ass cheek.

Lifting up a bit, you moaned in excitement already knowing what he was going to do.

“I thought you were a gentleman?” You asked playfully.

“I am.” He responded.

Kelvin dipped a finger into your folds, biting down on his lip at how wet you were. You were so tight around his finger, he could only imagine how good you were gonna feel around his dick.

You took him back into your mouth, slurping and sucking while he fingered you. You wrapped your hand around the base of his dick and ran your tongue along the underside, focusing most of your attention on the head. You noticed how his breathing changed when you did this, listening carefully as he took in a sharp breath.

Finally catching a red light, he gently pressed his foot against the break and snatched his hand from the wheel. You yelped lightly as you felt his hand against the back of your neck, pushing your head up and down on his dick. He sat back and rested his head against the driver's seat, cursing from the narrow feeling of your throat.

He pushed two fingers into your pussy and rolled his wrist, pushing them back and forth into you. His fingers matched the pace of his hand on your neck. A groan left his lips as he heard the sounds your pussy was making, wet and creamy from the taste of him along your tongue.

So caught up in the scene before him, he sat up quickly when he heard a car behind him honk their horn. He placed his hand back onto the steering wheel and pressed the gas.

“I’m fucking you up when we get to your house.” He said, removing his fingers from your pussy and slapping your ass a few more times.

“You promise?”

———————————————————

You assumed the position on your queen size bed, all fours with your ass in the air. You rocked your hips a bit making your ass jiggle as Kelvin stood behind you eyeing you with low eyes. You were both completely undressed, only space and opportunity standing between the two of you. Kelvin stood just a few feet from the bed, dick standing at full attention as he licked his lips in anticipation.

“You gonna stare at my ass all night or you gonna fuck me up like you said?” You smirked, looking over your shoulder at him.

He walked up to you and placed a hand on your back as he positioned himself right at your entrance. Slowly thrusting his hips forward, he pushed his dick into you cursing underneath his breath at how tight you were. You both shut your eyes, taking in the feeling of one another. He was so thick, stretching you just right with every inch. You pussy fluttered a bit, trying to adjust to his girth.

“So fucking tight.” He said, gripping both sides of your hips.

Without hesitation, he thrusted in and out of you, staring down at your ass as it jiggled from impact. Your hands dug into the sheets, gripping them tightly as your body rocked with each stroke he gave you. You coated his dick so well, the creaminess pushing to the base with every thrust.

“Look at that shit.” He said, slapping your ass to watch it jiggle even more. “You hear that pussy baby?”

“Yes!” You let out in an exaggerated breath. You could hardly focus on his words. Your eyes were barely open as you surrendered to the pleasure he brought you. You felt his hand creep up your back and grip onto your neck. In a quick motion, he pressed your face into the mattress, slamming his hips into yours repeatedly.

The only sounds in the room were your loud moans, the gushy noise coming for your pussy and his skin slapping against yours. You felt your walls begin to ache around him, a release threatening to escape your hole.

“Ohh fuucck.” You whined, your words getting lost in the sheets your face was buried in.

“I feel that shit coming.” Kelvin was already catching on to your reflexes. He could feel your walls contract around his dick as you grew wetter with every stroke. “Cum on that dick baby.”

“Fuck yes! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” You yelled, encouraging him to fall even deeper into you.

He lifted a leg onto the bed, never ending the rhythm that was sending you into a frenzy. His balls slapped against your clit, working you over twice more than before. The creaminess that dripped from your hole accompanied by the pressure from his heavy balls kept you from coming down so soon.

You were already feeling another climax building. The sensitivity from your clit alone made it easy for your orgasm to seep through. Your eyes rolled into your head as your grip on the sheets tightened.

“Daddy, I’m cummin’ again!” You cried through gritted teeth. Your tone was a mixture of pleading with him and begging for more. You wanted him to let up a bit to give you time to bounce back from the first orgasm but at the same time it felt too good to let go of. Your body shook underneath him as he squeezed your hips, holding you in place to prevent you from running.

“You wanted me to fuck you up right?” He asked, taunting you all while you were cumming.

“Yes!” You yelled.

“Take this dick then.”

You bit down on the sheets, moaning loudly as he continued fucking you. You weren’t a fan of tapping out but damn you just needed a few seconds to catch your breath. But he wasn’t granting you that anytime soon. He was fucking you like he had something to prove. Yes he was a gentleman but he also knew how to make you weep in more ways than one.

The more he thrusted into you, the more you ran from his strokes, eventually ending up flat on your stomach. He pulled out of you and climbed on to the bed, laying on his side right next to you. He placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer to him, pressing your back against his chest.

“Put that dick back in.” He said, his lips slightly brushing against your ear lobe.

You reached down and grabbed his dick, rubbing the tip through your slippery folds. You were trying to use this time to recoup and come back into reality. You could hear the sticky sounds your pussy was making each time you ran his dick in between your lips, loving how much he had managed to get you to make a mess in such a small amount of time.

“Stop playing with me.” He spat, slapping your ass aggressively.

You moaned from the slight pain and finally positioned his tip right at your entrance, pushing his dick back into you. He grabbed onto your leg, placing his hand into the bend of your knee as he thrusted into with full force. His other arm snaked under your neck and yanked your head back. He rocked his hips back and forth, lifting your leg more and more with each thrust.

“Why that pussy so wet for me mama?” He spoke directly into your ear as he stared down at you. Your eyebrows were curled, mouth agape while his dick slid in and out of you.

“I don’t… I-“ You tried to get it out but gave up just as soon as you started.

He reached down and placed his fingers on your clit, rubbing it in circles. His dick pressed against your G-spot repeatedly while his fingers toyed it from the outside. Your body grew weaker as you fought the urge to hold it in any longer.

“Feel. So. Good.” You moaned breathlessly in a rhythm with his strokes. Your hand gripped onto his arm that had a firm hold around your neck.

“Fuck, I’m about to cum in this pussy.” He moaned.

Kelvin closed his eyes as he pressed his lips to the side of your face. His breath lightly brushed against your jaw as you felt it increase. His fingers continued playing with your clit, feeling your pussy cream on his dick. The way you were taking him in, so wet and gushy, made it hard for him to last any longer than he wanted to. You could feel his dick jump inside of you, instantly pulling another orgasm out of you on the spot.

“I’m cummin’!” You cried out.

“I’m cummin’ with you baby.” He said, grabbing onto your leg. He gave a few more powerful strokes until you felt the warmth of his seed fill you.

“Shit.”

You both laid in place, chests rising as you fought to catch your breath. You blinked slowly, feeling your body slip into a well deserved slumber before Kelvin placed a kiss on your neck and lightly tapped your thigh.

“Don’t fall asleep on me just yet baby, I wanna spend the rest of my night with you before I go.” He said, bringing you out of a sleepy fog.

(Please excuse any mistakes! 🩵)

#kelvin harrison jr.#kelvin Harrison jr fix #smut #x black fem reader #black fem reader #fem reader #Kelvin Harrison jr x black fem reader

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hoeforsungie · 3 days ago

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💌 … ( 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖊𝖜 ) 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 — stoned sex w/ Hannie

best friends to lovers! Hannie x fem reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎cw ・ teasing, lots of tension, Hannie and reader are both horny for each other, drug usage (don’t!) wc ・‎ 2.8k ‎| ‎ ‎[library link here]

[ ۫ ꣑ৎ author’s note ] here’s my first ever preview for a work i’m working on! tbh, the fic is loooong and i’m still writing. i decided to post the preview bc the actual fic is kinda sad, depressing, and dark. i’m worried people wouldn’t actually like that part until it gets to the filth, however i wanted to write a hurt/comfort with some smut for a while… and i may or may not have stoner hannie brainrot. i may post just the smut and loving bits as its own thing, as well as the whole fic when i finally finish? idk i’m rambling… well here enjoy this preview for needy stoned Hannie x reader.

oh btw, here’s a playlist w songs i listened to while writing this

divider by @v6que

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🕊️ ⋅ ˚Jisung was happy to see her smile, even if it was small and her eyes were still red and puffy from crying. A win is a win in his book. So, he happily followed along. The pair grabbed their shoes and the umbrella before leaving the building. The walk to their normal smoking hang out was pretty calm, despite the rain. At least, the rain had died down again into a steady drizzle, saving them from the monsoon-like downpour earlier. The only unfortunate thing was that the wind had picked up, blowing the rain sideways. This left her with no choice but to cling to Jisung as the bitter wind whipped around the two of them. It was about 10 minutes before they spotted the treehouse her parents had built when they were children. All their normal stuff was still there, pictures from their youth hanging on the wall. Now there was an old beat up couch (where their stash was hidden), a bed with a few pillows and blankets where many hours cuddling had been spent, and a projector.

Jisung climbed up first and turned around to offer his hand to y/n. After getting pulled up, she beelined towards the couch to pull out the bud as well as the lighter and the wraps. After wrapping the blunt, she handed it to Jisung as he flopped down onto the couch next to her. “Ladies first.” She giggled. He took the blunt with a begrudging look and held it in his mouth, waiting for her to light it. Y/n obliged and elbowed him “Don’t take all of it, make sure to leave some for me. You hog.” She elbowed her friend then rubbed at her eyes, probably trying to diffuse some of the puffiness remaining from her tears.

Jisung, of course, only offered her a punch to the arm instead and a snarky remark about how he ‘wasn’t the one who finished 70% of the last blunt.’ Y/n rolled her eyes and plucked the blunt from Jisung’s lips harshly. “Shut up, besides,” y/n says as she pauses to take a drag. “You said this was to smoke the depression away. Right now I think I need it more than you.” She stuck her tongue at Jisung, to which he replied by flicking her in the forehead. Y/n took another big drag and coughed. “Goddamn, it’s been a while since I smoked with you Jisungie.” After coughing for a bit, y/n tucked her legs under her and turned towards Jisung. She took a few more drags before putting it in between her two fingers and passing it to Jisung to take. He gladly took the blunt and took a large drag himself. Somehow, he didn’t cough like her, much to y/n’s dismay.

“Bro, are you fucking kidding me? You’re such a show off. Ugh, fuck you!” Y/n squeaked and started punching him anywhere she could hit. “You’re the worst.” She sighed and plopped her body forward so she could lean onto Jisung. Cuddling between them wasn’t something new by any means. She’d never admit it, but cuddling with Jisung recently has been giving her new thoughts to think about. She didn’t know when it happened, but one day she began to notice the way her heart beats louder when she feel jisung’s broad chest caging her in, as his arms wrapped around her. She’d especially take this one to the grave, but she really started noticing it as she slipped away to excuse herself to use the bathroom in a panic. It was pretty obvious when she slipped her underwear down to see the pearly string that attaches itself to her lips and her panties. It was slowly becoming clear to her that she was attracted to Jisung. Perhaps, in more ways than one.

Jisung chuckled at y/n’s cute little outburst and reached over to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Looked like it was getting in your lip gloss, y/nnie.” He said with a honey-dripped voice. He smiled as he noticed as a small blush crept along y/n’s cheeks, down towards her neck. His eyes trailed below as they followed the path the blush was burning on her skin. He swallowed thickly as his eyes reached below her collarbone where his white band t-shirt stuck to her skin snugly. The white had become similar to gossamer, her skin and black bra shining through, thanks to the rain. Taking a sharp inhale, Jisung unconsciously began digging into her arm tightly as he drank in the sight. As if on cue, he broke the spell and suddenly snapped his eyes back into y/n’s. He hoped that she hadn’t noticed, although he knew the chances were entirely too slim. He couldn’t even blink as he peered into y/n’s eyes. Now it was Jisung’s turn to blush, a warmth spreading across his own cheeks. He sputtered something about ‘needing space’ and ‘why are you over here when there’s the entire couch?’ then promptly shoved y/n across the couch, turning his head away from her to hide the blush that was igniting his skin.

Y/n, of course, wouldn’t stand for being pushed away from her heat source as the cold from the rain blew into the tree house. “Sungie, fuck off! What the hell was that for? You know it’s cold out.” She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. After a few seconds of pouting silently she reached her arm out to grab the blunt that Jisung was holding in his hand, half forgotten. He yelped in surprise and moved his arm up in the air out of y/n’s reach. She slapped his shoulder and laughed as he grunted. After a few seconds of pretending to give up, she smiled and lunged even harder at Jisung. Launching herself off the couch and smiling in victory as she was able to reach the blunt Jisung held over his head, she failed to notice her miscalculation as she was now sitting in Jisung’s lap with her face very close to his own. He glared at her unamused but she still noticed the blush dusting his cheeks. The clock on the wall continued to tick on as the air around the pair thickened. Jisung’s own shocked expression melted into something much needier as she felt him try to physically run away from her hold. But with her sitting on his lap, he had nowhere to go. He pinched his eyebrows and turned his head, bringing his fist up in a feeble attempt to hide his teeth digging into his bottom lip at the suggestive pose the pair are in. With the way in which her arm is still frozen in the air at her attempt to get the blunt for herself, she begins to blush as bright as Jisung and feel a familiar slowly knot tying itself in her stomach. Y/n never thought she’d get turned on by such a small act, let alone from a simple mistake she made.

More time passed as the pair stared deeply, albeit curiously, into each other’s eyes. Jisung’s hands which were thrown around her waist in shock began to grip tighter at her hips, the fingers leaving indents in the milky skin where they were also splayed on her thighs. She parted her lips and he heard a small, breathy “Oh.” leave her. It was hard to deny, but this had a larger impact on y/n than she would have liked. She inhaled sharply as she felt her clit throb gently at the feeling at Jisung’s hands deliciously digging into her sides. It was her turn to look away in embarrassment as she quickly dismounted herself off his lap and back onto the couch with a pout. Stupid Jisung and the way he doesn’t realize the impact he has on me! She internally curses him as all she places the blunt back in between her sticky strawberry lips and inhales. After taking a long drag, and much to her enjoyment, the lack of a coughing fit, she crosses her hands back over into her lap and closes her eyes. She felt the beginning of her arousal begin to fade as she tried to be one of God’s stronger soldiers and put the thoughts flashing behind her eyes deep down into her subconscious. Something about the way Jisung’s fingers stung ever so slightly as he pushed into her plush thighs and waist with his soft hands threw her for a complete tailspin. Of course she’s had sex before, but never had she felt so ignited by such a small and subtle touch. It was as if a jolt of electricity had gone through her the second he laid his hands on her. Shaking her head vigorously to rid the sinful thoughts before they overwhelmed her and she could only imagine the way in which he would handle her, she tried to rid the unholy thoughts once more. Deciding to say “fuck it” and take another large drag from the blunt, end goal of becoming as high as possible in the fastest manner becoming clearer and clearer in her head. It was during this time in which she was so in her own head, she missed the golden opportunity to peek open her own eyes and see the disheveled state Jisung was in, similarly to her own.

If she were to peer over and turn her head towards Jisung, she would have had a heart attack and simultaneously seen the way he desired y/n so bad it was almost tangible. His head was reeling and chest heaving as he shut his eyes and flopped it back against the couch, staring up into the ceiling. His hair flopped with him and covered his eyes, but his own arousal was still apparent to any outsider. The way in which his bottom lip is still trapped between his teeth as he tries to catch his breath. The blush on his cheeks spread down to his chest where the slight dew of sweat began to gather. He pinched his nose bridge as he tried to will the thoughts and his raging boner away. The way in which y/n’s body looked so small on his lap, the way in which her thighs were so soft and plump in his hands. Her small, breathy, ‘oh’ that made his heart hang onto the idea that she was into him enough to find him sexually attractive, and the way in which her wet clothes clung to her form; it all made him go insane. He needed the weed to kick in any second now, hoping he could instead get lost in the sensation of being high rather than hopelessly longing for the feeling of y/n’s pink sugary lips gliding against his own. Heaving a heavy sigh, he looked over to y/n on the couch and slowly peeked his eyes at her form on the couch. Thanking whatever deity was allowing her to look so perfect before him, and luckily she was in her own world with her eyes closed. He let his eyes slowly drag down her body, a little more unashamedly now that he knew he didn’t have an audience to judge his own indulgence.

Jisung flitted his eyes down to her chest once again, running them along the valley of her collarbones, down to where her cleavage just faintly peeked out above the low collar she cut on his shirt, now claimed for herself and neatly stored in Jisung’s drawer for their impromptu sleepovers and other clothing emergencies. He dragged his eyes back up to her lips. He internally groaned as he saw the way her gloss smudged slightly from the blunt, the sugary pink tint shimmering softly in the light. After admiring her lips for a while, Jisung trailed his eyes down to her hips and smiled softly at what he saw. The grey sweatpants that they both owned as a matching set were sitting snugly on her hips. The ones with a little black star and the word “Youtiful” under it, that both of them got as a gift on graduation day from one of their closest friends. The ones that matched his very own. Thanking God and the people he saved in his last life, he smiled at the fact that even if y/n had so many other bottoms to choose from, she chose those special ones. Now here they were, both matching. As he thanked the universe for giving him this win, he stilled as he saw y/n inhale and slowly open her eyes before yawning and sitting up, lashes getting slightly wet from the unshed tears the strong yawn brought to her eyes. He sat up straighter, eyes still trained on her as he followed her every move. Imagine his surprise as he feels y/n shove the blunt between his lips and her hand on his cheeks, pushing into them lightly as she forces his mouth open (much like the kissy face a fish makes) to take the blunt. After she’s satisfied that the blunt remains lodged in Jisung’s plush lips, she withdraws her hand and whips her head away. He held his breath when the words y/n whispered met his ears.

“Mm feelin’ it slowly. It’s your turn to catch up now. Don’t wanna be high alone, Hannie.” Y/n mumbled out through pouted lips. She felt her cheeks heat up as she admitted to already feeling the pleasant sluggish feeling enveloping her body. After she was satisfied by seeing Jisung take a few drags himself, head laid back with one hand in his hair behind his head as he peered up at the ceiling, she let her own head flop back on the couch. Sighing with contentment, she snuggled further into the couch, allowing the comforting feeling of her incoming high roll onto her slowly. It was a few minutes that had passed before y/n’s eyes blink open again slowly as she sat up quickly realizing she had dozed off for about 30 minutes.

Embarrassment painted her features as she quickly realized where Jisung had been when she dozed off. She looked down and nearly yelped as she saw Jisung with his plump lips, open and spit-slicked, laying in her lap. She felt his hair tickle her thighs through the material of the sweatpants as she sucked in a breath and shook him gently, worried what would happen if he stayed there any longer. Now it was her turn to bite her lip as she felt him stir ever so slightly, and instead of waking up, he then wiggled his face deeper into y/n’s lap, grabbing at her and mumbling something incoherent except for the one word she caught. ‘Warm.’ Jisung burrowed in again, his nose nuzzling along her thigh as he breathed out peacefully, his breath fanning across her tummy, where her shirt had risen in her short slumber. Y/n’s breath caught as she let out a little hiccup when one deep sigh let out just the right amount of air to feel a small bead of arousal leak out of her hole and into her panties. After freezing in fear when she felt Jisung nuzzle impossibly deeper, almost driven in his sleep by his body’s unconscious drive to feel her closer. It was over for her though when she felt the tip of his nose nuzzle in just right so that it barely traced over her clothed clit. With a squeak she felt her clit throb more strongly this time and the arousal continued to pool in both her underwear and belly before she’d decided she’d had enough. She grabbed Jisung by the hair and lifted his sleeping body up.

Jisung awoke with a start and a yelp as his hands reached up to where y/n’s were caught tangled in his brunette locks. His bracelet jangled as he looked up at y/n with unshed tears and a pout on his lips, making them look so kissable. After a few seconds y/n smoothed her hand back over his hair and massaged it. She let her hands begin to knead into Jisung’s neck, trying to work out any sore spots as an apology for waking him up so urgently. With the pout still on his lips, he peered up at y/n as he felt his body begin to melt into her touch. “Why did you even do that anyways?” She shook her head and did something which Jisung did not expect at all. She leaned down and pressed her glossy lips to the tip of his nose gently. As his brain was short circuiting he looked up at her with his big boba eyes shining in the soft light and another pout formed on his lips. “W-what was that for?” He asked, his eyes trailing away to look at the posters and photos on the wall, a testament to the brilliance of your youth that you two shared together. Y/n simply smiled and retracted her face from Jisung’s. She twinkled out a laugh, eyes turning into little crescents, and flicked him in the forehead.

#skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids han jisung smut #han smut #han x reader #jisung smut #stray kids smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #skz reactions #── 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖗 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖘 ★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

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dimlylittorch · 2 days ago

Text

i am on my knees for this man. and he’s on his knees for me. (this is roughly 5k words)

My Masterlist🌱

Silco x transmasc!reader

small synopsis: reader ends up getting beaten up- bro is NOT happy. Hurt/comfort with some angst, fluffy ending :3

Warnings: very brief mention of SH

You were the one soft thing in his life. The one thing that was untouched by evil, or greed, or hate. When he found you wandering alone around an entrance into the Undercity, he knew from the moment he saw you.. you were different.

You had been giving a homeless person, probably shimmer addicted and dangerous, food. And soft words. And your time. Something he never thought he’d see. Someone so gentle they would think about sewer rats like that. You’d gone so far as to sit next to them, pulling whatever you could out of your bag for them to have. “I’m sorry I don’t have more.” You had said softly, practically sending a shiver up his spine at the time. And then you had offered to bring more tomorrow.

And so, that next day he waited at that entrance. And around that same time, you came back with an extra bag full of food. Good food. Homemade. He watched as you walked along the wall, offering some to anyone who was there. And when you’d reached the entrance.. you saw him.

“Sir?” You’d asked with a soft tone. “Would you like something to eat?”

He could see you were hesitant- as you should be. You’d probably grown up being told of the dangers of the Undercity.. but here you stood, putting yourself in harms way for people who wouldn’t do the same for you.

“Hm.” He had hummed as his eyes trailed over you. “What is it?” He asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

As you stepped closer to him with a shy smile, you opened your bag to show him. “Oh, it’s just muffins. Nothing too special, but I thought they might help.” Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a blueberry muffin wrapped in tissue paper and offered it to him. He stared at your hand for a moment before tentatively taking it from you.

“I see.” He murmured quietly as his eyes meet your own. Stepping into the light, he walked closer to you and kept his gaze on yours. “You’re a pretty little thing.” He mused faintly. “This is a dangerous place, you know.”

When you saw his full face in the light you shrunk back slightly, but only for a moment. Staying still, you look right back up at him, much to his amusement. He didn’t think he remembered a time when someone hadn’t cowered under his gaze. “You don’t seem like the rest of them” you said softly as your eyes scanned over his face.

“Well aren’t you clever” he chuckled faintly. “If any other topsider was this close to my territory.. I fear we’d have a problem.” He murmurs with a small smirk. “But you pose no threat to me, little one.”

“You talk like you’re in charge..” you murmur as you take a step back, eyes glancing over his slender form.

He smirked wider at your words, pulling out a cigar and a lighter. “That’s because I am.” He muses followed by the click of his lighter.

Before he can say anything else, you suddenly pull the cigar out of his hand, leaving him stunned as he looked down at you. “Don’t you know this is bad for you?” You huff as you look up at him with a scolding look. “What kind of leader doesn’t care about his own health?”

He stares down at you completely dumbfounded. The nerve alone.. you threw him for a loop completely. Before he can think he lunges forward to try and grab the cigar, but you quickly move away, a smile forming on your lips. “Hey! No- you’re not getting this back”

Your innocence makes him sick. But your smile makes someone inside of him burn. “You are nothing but a pest” he growls as he stalks towards you.

When you realize how angry he looks you can’t help but laugh as you walk backwards. “I’m trying to save your life here” you grin cheekily as you playfully try to get away from him. Before you know it you’re halfway through the threshold into the Undercity.

When Silco realizes how close you are into the dangers of Zaun he rushes forward, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and pinning you against the stone wall. His breath is heavy as he keeps you there, staring down at you as he collects himself from his anger. “Never.. go in there alone.” He says lowly, a rough growl near your ear. “Do you understand me?”

Your smile had quickly been wiped away when he grabbed you, a surprised sound slipping past your lips when he pinned you against the wall. Looking up at him, you hesitantly nodded your head, your breathing quick and face flushed. “Yes sir” you whispered breathlessly, the tension palpable.

He didn’t even know you.. but he felt protective of you. He felt like you were his. Letting go of your shirt, his eyes softened as he looked down at you and saw how your face was flushed. “Forgive me.” He murmurs faintly, his eyes locked on yours.

Gazing up at him, you couldn’t help but gently reach up to straighten his tie, eyes shifting to the collar of his shirt. His gaze follows your hands, silently watching as you fix his shirt. “You’re okay.” You murmured softly. His heart skipped a beat at your words. You could’ve said ‘it’s okay’.. but you said ‘you’re okay’. Words he hadn’t heard in a long time.

Before you can say anything else he leans forward, hands on either side of you against the wall as his lips meet yours. A small gasp leaves you as he kisses you, but you can’t stop yourself from kissing him back. It only lasted for a few moments before he pulled away begrudgingly. “Come back tomorrow.” He whispered against your ear before he took a step back and left through the threshold, leaving you standing against the wall, his cigar and your muffin left forgotten on the ground.

That was weeks ago. Now he saw you almost daily, insisting that you kept coming back. You could’ve easily denied him- returned home and never came back. But you did. You always came back. Like a moth to a flame.

You made him feel like a teenager again, revitalizing his youth. Before you he couldn’t recall the last time he had been kissed. His scars and power always drove people away, understandably so. It took a silly little topsider like you to see the man he used to be.

Sneaking into his office after meetings, pulling him into random alleyways.. all just for a little time with him. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve something like you. He just hoped you would keep coming back like always.

Every day he would wait at the threshold between Piltover and Zaun. He would walk you through the Undercity, bringing you to where he could keep you all for himself. And every day you would show up with a wide smile, just happy to see him.

He always met you around noon, but one day you decided to slip into the Undercity earlier than usual. You knew he had been working hard recently, and you wanted to surprise him. You’d woken up early just to make him a special batch of treats, hoping to cheer him up from his recent stress.

Walking into the Undercity on your own.. the one thing he’d warned you of. You were a big boy- surely you could handle yourself for one day, right? You just had to put your hood up lay low, not drawing any attention to yourself. At least.. that’s what you thought.

You always met him at noon on the dot. For the first time in weeks you weren’t here at the threshold. Silco’s foot began to tap against the pavement with anxiety rising up inside of him. Had you finally figured out the kind of man he was? Made the smart decision to leave him and the Undercity behind?

After waiting for almost an hour he throws his cigar at the ground before turning and heading back into the Undercity. Taking his usual route to his office, he glares at anyone that dares look at him. Needless to say, he was seething. You had this hold on him- and now you were gone? Just like that? He was tempted to send Sevika to find you. But he knew he would look weak.

As he walks down one alleyway in particular, his eyes trail along the different people crouched on the ground, poor and probably shimmer addicted. He scoffs in disgust when he looks over them, seeing people begging for help.. something he swore he’d never do. Before he can turn the corner he catches a glimpse of a familiar colored bag, pausing in his stride as he looks over. That was when his heart stopped.

There you stood, hand and head resting against the dirty stone as you coughed weakly, blood dripping from your mouth. Your knees looked weak, and he could see bruises on your arms starting to form. Before he could say anything, he hears a faint noise slip past your lips. And then a few clear droplets fall onto the pavement. You were crying.

Within a second though, your sadness turned to anger. Pushing off of the wall and kicking a trashcan over, you let out a choked yell. As the volume faded, it turned into a weak sob, followed by you throwing your bag into the alleyway, which made people’s heads turn.

He’d never seen you angry. He’d never seen you cry either. It had only been a few weeks, but he’d started to believe those emotions didn’t even lie within you. He was stunned into silence, his body frozen as his eyes follow your bag before looking back at where you collapsed on the ground.

“Fucking take it” you muttered hoarsely as you wipe your eye with your wrist. “Take it all.” You snap at the people eyeing your bag. “The one thing I needed for myself- you took. Don’t bite the hand that fucking feeds you.” you practically seethe. Even in your injured state- he could feel the anger. He understood it too. The pain of being kind in a world that doesn’t return the same sentiment.

After a few more moments he quickly steps forward, kneeling down and pulling you against him. “What did I say?” He whispers against your ear, but there’s no chastising tone in his voice. Simply guilt that he wasn’t there for you.

You sniffle weakly when you realize it’s him, letting him pull you close. Resting your head on his chest, a soft sigh leaves you. “M’sorry” you whisper weakly. “Just.. wanted to surprise you. But I messed up.”

He sighs softly as he looks over the state of you. You have a black eye and bruises on your arms.. a cut here and there. He hoists you into his arms and stands up, but as he steps away only then does he see the puddle of blood on the ground. His eyes widen and he quickly looks over you, trying to see if it was from you or not. He uses his hand to feel along your back, but only when you cry out does he realize his hand feels warm.. and wet.

Making his way through the streets as fast as he could, he made it back to the last drop, storming in where all of his usual patrons sat. When the doors slam, everyone quickly turns to see Silco standing there with you in his arms and pure rage on his face.

“If I don’t have their heads within twenty four hours” he practically growls as he looks around the room. “I’ll pull every limb from every body in this room. Go.”

Your eyesight grows dim as you feel yourself being set on the couch in his office. You look up slightly to see Sevika standing over you, grabbing a roll of bandages. When you look to the right you see straight out of the door that leads from Silco’s office into the alleyway. You’d never seen him angry. Not like this. He had someone by their collar on their knees, punching them in the face repeatedly before tossing them aside with a yell.

When Sevika turns her back you stand up on shaky legs, walking towards the door the best you can. Managing to reach the doorway, you watch as Silco kicks a trashcan, letting out a yell of frustration. You didn’t know how much time had passed.. but you felt more lightheaded by the second. “Sil?” You say weakly, wishing he would be able to relax. His head snaps around, and when he sees you standing he quickly rushes forward and holds you up.

“Sevika- I told you to watch him!” He snaps as he brings you back over to the couch. Hearing Sevika’s sigh of frustration, you feel tears start to well in your eyes- especially as the shock starts to fade, leaving you with more pain than you’d ever experienced.

When Silco sets you down on the couch and starts to step away, you quickly reach out and grab his arm with a weak yelp of pain. “D-don’t leave me” you choke out as tears start to spill down your cheeks.

He quickly turns when he feels himself pulled back, and when he sees the tears spilling from your eyes his anger starts to mold into concern. He moves to sit next to you on the couch, pulling you into his arms. He positions you so Sevika can see your back where you had a small stab wound- probably from some dirt ridden pocket knife. He seethes at the thought of some low life leaving you in that alley. Wrapping his arms around you, one arm hooked under your own, he holds you as close as he can with your face tucked against his chest and the back of the couch.

“You’re okay” he murmurs softly against your ear, his breathing starting to slow from his previous anger. “Shh, shh..” he says faintly as you cry in his arms. “I’ll never leave.” Hearing a scoff from Sevika, he shoots her a glare. He knew he looked weak- he couldn’t stand it. But the way he felt for you outweighed how others viewed him. Adjusting you slightly so Sevika can treat the wound in your back, she gestures for your shirt to be taken off. He hesitates for only a moment before helping pull your shirt off, tossing the blood stained cloth aside.

Now- you and Silco had been fooling around. But it had never gotten quite this far; shirtless, I mean. Sure, you’d made out every now and then, but he was a busy man.. curling up into him as you tried to hide your embarrassment, you tense as Sevika starts to treat the stab wound. Shaking in Silco’s arms from the pain, you can’t help but cry more. It was embarrassing.. these were two of the most powerful people in the Undercity. And here you sat, crying in front of them like a baby.

Silco could practically read your thoughts when he saw how you curled into yourself. Resting his head against your own, his breath fans out over your ear. “You.. are so strong.” He whispers faintly so only you can hear. When he senses your confusion from his words, he pulls you a little closer. “Any other spoiled Piltover brat would’ve laid down and taken it.” He murmurs softly. “But I can tell you fought. My strong little thing.” He whispers against your skin.

Sighing softly, you relax in his arms slightly. “I made you cupcakes.” You whisper faintly after a few quiet moments.

Silco’s eyebrows quirk up and he looks at Sevika for a moment before looking back down at you. “What?” He questions softly as he brushes a piece of hair off of your forehead.

Sniffing slightly as Sevika tapes down the bandage, you sigh. “I wanted to surprise you.” You whisper quietly, as if embarrassed. “Since you told me you guys don’t.. do birthdays much down here- and you’ve been working so hard.. I guess they thought my bag had money in it. When they realized it was just food they..” you trail off faintly, curling into his chest more. “I should’ve listened to you.”

Silco practically feels his heart break as he listens to your words, looking down at you in disbelief for a few moments. When your wound is patched up well enough he motions for Sevika to leave, who does accordingly. Gently using his finger to lift your chin, he looks down into your tear filled eyes. “I will burn this whole city to the ground if I have to.” He says coldly, and you can tell he meant it. “You will never feel unsafe again. Never. Do you understand me?”

Gazing up at him for a few seconds, you gently nod before tucking your head under his chin. The two of you sat like that for a few minutes before your voice reached his ears. “Maybe I should’ve listened to my parents.” You whispered faintly, your shaking tone indicating how hard it was for you to admit that.

He tensed at your words, his arms tightening around you. He felt how blood rushed through his ears at the thought- the thought of you two never meeting. “No one” he says lowly. “Will take you away from me.” He growled.

You should’ve been scared. His anger should’ve frightened you. But.. you never felt more wanted. Maybe it was problematic- or unhealthy. But you could tell he needed you. Just like you needed him. You had been overlooked your whole life. Or if you were noticed, it was for an achievement. Not for you.

When he realizes what he said, and how it may have come off.. the tension fades from his body. He hugs you closer, his lips against your hair. “Forgive me.” He whispers faintly.

“Do you love me?”

His heart stopped when your words registered, and he swore the air stood still. Sitting up to get a clear look at you, he watches how you tilt your head up towards him, your soft eyes locking on his own. “Love..” he murmurs softly, looking off to the side. “Is a tricky thing.”

Gently leaning up, your lips brush against the underside of his jaw. “I think I might love you.” You murmur softly against his skin. His heart rate quickens at your words, and you can tell how he doesn’t know how to handle it. You’d only know each other for weeks- a few months at the most. Surely stealing a few kisses here and there wasn’t enough to establish love?

“You don’t understand what love is.” He sighs quietly, resting his arm along the back of the couch and resting his mouth in his hand as he avoids your gaze.

Your eyes narrowed slightly at his words, and you try your best to sit up to look at him face to face. “Who are you to tell me how I feel?”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he looks at you. “Whatever you feel for me.. it’s not love. Infatuation, perhaps. You’re too naive.” He mutters as he rubs his forehead. It hurt him to say those words, although he’d never admit it. He did love you. That much he was sure of. But is it fair? For a man like him to love again? Let alone a little thing like you.

“You’re so full of shit.” You snap as you manage to scoot further away from him on the couch, ignoring the burning pain in your back.

He quickly looks over at you, annoyance on his face. “Excuse me?”

When you see his anger bubbling slightly, you falter for a moment. “Y-Yeah.” You stutter. “You’re- you’re not nice to anyone else” you say quickly as you try to think. “Not like you are to me. And I’ve never seen you be soft with someone. And here you are holding me-.”

He rolls his eyes and stands up, turning his back to you as he walks over to his desk and leaning over it as he looks out of the window. “It’s pathetic. Truly.” He mutters. “How a spoiled little brat from topside finds one man to hug on him, and all of a sudden it’s love” he spits as he turns to look at you. He felt his heart ripping as he spoke. But he couldn’t stop himself. “Poor little you, all touch starved and unloved.” He seethes as he pushes off of his desk, walking over to you. “You are nothing.” He says dangerously as he steps in front of you, grabbing your chin and yanking you upward, making you yelp slightly. “Nothing to me. Nothing to the world. Nothing at all.”

When he lets go of your face you quickly grab it yourself, trying to soothe the ache in your jaw. There would definitely be bruises tomorrow.. his fingerprints left indented on your skin. Tears spilled down your cheeks as he spoke, and as soon as he turned away from you, you managed to stand up and grab your shirt, walking towards the door. He watched you leave, wanted desperately to reach out and apologize. But years of hatred had festered in his heart.. stopping him completely.

It was a wonder you even made it home. At least, that’s what you thought. Silco had Sevika tail you to make sure you didn’t collapse in an alleyway. But you didn’t need to know that.

Your parents were in a state when you entered the house, the both of them having dinner when they saw you standing there, battered and bloody. They immediately shacked you up in your room, calling the closest doctor to examine you.

That was four days ago. You’ve hardly left your room, deciding to stay curled up in bed, thinking about everything you did wrong. Silco had to be wrong. If you didn’t love him, why the hell did it hurt this bad to not have him around?

Meanwhile, Silco was in the same boat. He still went to the threshold every day, silently hoping you would return, coming in with violent optimism and putting him in his place, making him love you. But every day.. he stood alone. It was starting to eat him up inside. He couldn’t believe he’d done that to you. Said that to you. Touched you like that after promising you’d never be hurt again. He’d gone as far as putting out his cigars on himself. Just as a reminder of what you must’ve felt- having your heart ripped to pieces by a man who was supposed to keep you safe.

Needless to say, neither of you were taking this well. Right after you’d left that day, someone had brought him the sewer rats that had beat you. He spent the next two hours doing whatever he could to make them hurt.. taking out his own frustrations as well.

Coming up on day five of no interaction, he couldn’t stand it anymore. Putting on a cloak, he made his way into Piltover unnoticed. He knew where you lived thanks to Sevika, but when he saw the mansion your parents owned he knew he couldn’t just knock. He managed to case the house to the best of his ability, but he got lucky. He watched as you stepped out onto your small balcony connected to your room, and he knew where to find you.

Now, don’t ask about how he managed to climb up onto your balcony. Once he slid over the railing, he looked through the glass doors and found you lying in your bed, curled up into a ball under the blankets. He sighed softly when he saw how your head was hidden under the covers. He knew he must have torn your heart out. He could barely stand the thought. Managing to slip into your room silently, he rested against the wall near the balcony in case he needed to take his leave suddenly- like if your parents walked in. He pulled off his cloak and set it on your vanity before sitting in an empty chair.

What could he say to you? He knew his apologies would probably be worthless. He watched the way your body rose and fell in tandem with your soft breathing. He had never felt so alive as when watching you simply exist. Seeing you breathe, seeing you laugh.. it all reminded him of life itself. How to some.. there was good in the world.

After a few moments pass with him sitting and thinking of what to do, he suddenly hears a weak gasp. Looking up immediately, he sees you sitting up on your side with your back to him. He sees the way your body starts to rattle with sharp sobs that no doubt send shooting pain throughout your wound. You were having nightmares. And it was probably all his fault.

After a moment you turn with a wince to rest your back against the headboard, but you freeze when your eyes land on him sitting near your balcony. He saw the way your whole body tensed, and how you quickly tried to wipe your tears away so he wouldn’t see. With a heavy sigh, he gently stood and walked over to your large bed, sitting on the end of it with his back to you. Resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, the two of you stay quiet for a few moments, the only sounds being his tired breaths and your sniffles.

“Love is too complex of an emotion for my body to handle anymore.” His voice says quietly, but you heard him clear as day in the wide open room. “Often.. I wake up and wonder what it’s all for. Money, power.. humanity. You.. have ruined me.” He whispers faintly, his voice gravelly. “You are everything I am not. Everything I can never be again. Please.. forgive me. Forgive a damaged fool who burns up in the presence of your light.” He murmurs through tired breaths. “You deserve nothing as scarred as me. I wish I could say my flaws are only skin deep. But I’m afraid my heart is as marred as my face.”

After he speaks, his voice raw with honesty, he’s left in silence. After a few long moments, he tenses as he feels your arms slide around his waist, pulling him close as your head rests on his back. “I’m just a stupid kid- like you said” you choke out, voice raw from how much you had been crying. “And you’re so.. so much more.” You sob softly, arms tightening around him as you bury your face against his shirt. “You’re beautiful. Especially when you’re broken.” You add through tears, giving him the hug you always wished someone would give you.

Shaky breaths slip past his lips as he tries to comprehend your words. God, how he missed feeling human. Once he manages to breathe again, he gently turns onto the bed, grabbing you from behind him and pulling you to rest over his lap. Your legs hang over his thigh, still on the bed as he presses his forehead against your own, one arm around your shoulders and the other around your hips. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He chokes out softly, his eyes closing as his hands rub over your clothed skin.

Sighing softly when he pulls you into his lap, you can’t help but snuggle into him with a weak yawn. Your face was red and tear stained.. you looked like you’d barely slept. “My parents will kill you if they find you here.” You chuckle weakly against his chest. “You’re not exactly the kind of guy they want me to bring home.”

With a weak smile crossing his face, he presses his lips against your forehead gently. “I would trust their judgement.” He murmurs as he gently rocks you back and forth ever so slightly. “You shouldn’t forgive me so easily” he whispers against your hair. “You deserve better than that.”

Sighing softly, you lean up to press your lips to the underside of his jaw. “Yeah.. well. Believe it or not, I still feel safest with you.” You murmur tiredly. With a faint sigh he gently picks you up, walking around the length of your bed and setting you down, your head resting against your pillows. Yawning gently, you snuggle into your blankets and the pile of stuffed animals next to you. “go lock the door” you order sleepily.

With a faint chuckle he follows your command, locking your bedroom door before he walks back over to where you lay in your bed. Bending down to slip off his shoes, he moves to lay underneath the covers with you, pulling you into his arms with a contented sigh. “Is this alright?” He murmurs softly.

Cuddling into his hold, you nod as your eyes start to close. “if you hear my parents just wake me up and hide under the bed.” You say faintly, melting into his arms as he keeps you warm.

Smiling against your hair he places a kiss to your forehead, his hand reaching up to rub your upper back soothingly. “Don’t worry.” He whispers against your skin. “This is our little secret.”

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ssentimentals · 19 hours ago

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Hiii, I don’t really have a prompt that’d I’d like to request, but could I get something with scoups & reader that is scared of bad weather (tornado type weather & such—speaking from experience 🥲)?

I love your writing so much & love reading all your small prompts :)

hiii! tbh i always wanted people to come up here with their own requests, but that never reallly happened as most prefer to pick from already formulated prompts, so you have no idea how happy you made me with this message! 💜thank you for your kind words as well :')

seungcheol + bad weather

when you get a notification on your phone about the upcoming storm, dread settles uncomfortably in your chest. makes it hard to breathe, squeezing your lungs painfully with growing anxiety. clutching your bag, you look up at the sky, noticing how light blue sky slowly starts turning grey. your phone buzzes and you sigh in relief, seeing seungcheol's photo on your screen.

“i got the storm notification,” your boyfriend says instead of greeting. “i’m taking rest of the day off, will work from home. where are you, baby?”

“got the groceries, going home now.” you wince at the way wind picks up. “i’m gonna-“

“can you go inside and wait for me to pick you up?”seungcheol interrupts.

warmth pools at the the pit of your stomach. seungcheol has no problems with any weather conditions, he has no anxiety or panic attacks, doesn't flinch at thundreclaps - it's all you. since he learned this about you, it never fails to make your heart squeeze with affection how he always goes out of his way to ensure your comfort and safety during these moments. “it's a ten minute walk,” you say, shaking your head. “i'll go on my own. be careful, yeah? drive safe.”

“i'll be back home very soon, angel.” seungcheol assures you.

before seungcheol no one ever made you feel so seen regarding this issue. you know that he's going to probably break some rules on his way back home just to get quicker to you and it's enough to make you rush home as well, ignoring the way wind picks up. force of nature is terrifying, especially when you know how devastating it can be; you quickly turn on the lights and shut the curtains as soon as you're inside. with years came not only age but wisdom: you learned how to deal with your fear. any kinds of distractions work the best and until your boyfriend arrives, you busy yourself with the groceries, preparing easy salad just to keep your hands busy.

seungcheol arrives with a loud bang and even louder: “baby, where are you?”. his big eyes are on you the second you appear in the hallway and wide smile spreads on his face: “hi, love.”

you grin, coming up to greet him. “hey, cheollie. thanks for coming over.”

“don't mention it.” seungcheol waves it off like it's not a big deal, when it actually is. he has no idea how much the fact that he took his job home the second he saw storm notification means to you. “you got the groceries?”

it's very domestic for next twenty minutes; seungcheol changes and you two enjoy the salad and tea, when another notification about a possibility of this storm turning into a tornado pops up. it makes your breath hitch, but seungcheol's warm hand on top of yours keeps you grounded. “let’s go to bed, yeah?” he suggests. “we can watch something.”

“but your work?” you ask, frowning. you took this week fully off and didn't have to worry about missing any important meetings. “it’s okay, really, we can-“

“don't worry about it.” seungcheol presses, taking your hand and forcing you to stand up. he hugs you tight, leaving small kiss on your forehead. “i just need you all cuddled up to me, my work can wait, okay? let's clean this up and go upstairs.”

you have no idea how seungcheol knows exactly what to do or say in moments like this. his touch is never too much, his words are never harsh, his gaze is always understanding and not pitying. when first thunder rolls in, he already has you two laying on the bed, covered from head to toe. first thunderclap echoes int he distance at first and then silences you both at the full volume. the sound makes you flinch as you've been slapped - you barely manage to conceal your whine, burying deeper int he comfort of the weighted blanket.

“it's okay, love, it's okay.” seungcheol soothingly rubs your back, pulling you even closer. “i’m here, yeah? do you want headphones?”

headphones help immensely but you were always shy about them at first; it always seemed to be so rude to just put headphones on when another person is around. seungcheol assured you from the start that he has no problems with it, but you always hesitate.

“hey,” he leans in, making sure that you make eye contact. “you come first, remember? you and you well-being always come first. let me get you those headphones.”

you can hear wind whistling outside like it's out there to get you and your heart rate picks up with dread settling as a heavy weight on your shoulders. it’s incredibly frustrating - you wish you never had this fear, wish it didn’t affect you the way it does. at the sound of yet another thunderclap, you squeeze your eyes shut and shiver, wanting to disappear. only when warm body settles next to you and headphones are placed gently on your head, only then you uncurl from your position and open your eyes. seungcheol is watching you with furrowed eyebrows, worry evident in his gaze. he caresses your face lovingly and points at the headphones, handing you your phone. “music,” he says. his thumb brushes below your eyes and he sighs. “i’m here, baby. just listen to the music, yeah?”

you nod. shuffling to cuddle closer, you whisper: “go ahead and work, cheol. it’s alright, i’ll listen to the music anyways.”

“you sure?” seungcheol asks and when you nod, he leans in to leave a sweet kiss on your cheek. “okay. but if it gets worse or you’ll need something, just let me know, okay?”

it’s so, so sweet. the way he angles his body so it’s be easier for you to lay down, how he wraps one arm around you securely and pulls you in, how he ocassionally leaves kisses on top of your head while he works. the safe space he creates for you lets you zone out, steady your breathing. you still flinch at the sounds but fear is not that strong when seungcheol is close to remind you that he is here for you. after some time he puts away his laptop and lets you flop on top of him, covering you two with a blanket.

“i quite like this, actually,” he comments, smiling.

“which part? me crushing you with my weight or me having a stupid fear?” you ask, aiming for a joke but falling flat.

“the part where we get to cuddle and i let you know that no fear is stupid and that holding you makes me incredibly happy.” he looks at you, eyes full of tenderness. “i’m happy to be here, right now. happy that you’re letting me do this.”

your throat feels too tight. before you can say something stupid like “i love you” and confess first, seungcheol adds: “can we do this more often?”

you don’t trust you voice not to crack if you speak, so you nod. seungcheol beams at this and leans in to kiss you. “awesome. now let’s nap for a bit.”

napping is definitely easier than admitting your feelings or facing the raging storm outside. you nod again and close your eyes, breathing in. you’re fast asleep in seconds and don’t feel small kiss on top of your head or quiet “i love you” spoken in the secrecy of the night.

a/n: so. if it wasn't very obvious, i know zero about storms/tornados so i'm sorry if this ended up being very unrealistic. hopefully you liked it :/ - nini

you can find my other writings for seventeen HERE

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luxcuriousao3 · 1 day ago

Text

Did somebody say Ghoap angst?? No? Well here's some anyway. May or may not turn this into a longer fic, tell me your thoughts.

“What are we doing, Simon?”

Soap regrets the words the minute they’re out of his mouth, already guessing how Ghost will react—but he’s apparently not only a masochist in bed, so he doesn’t take them back. Ghost is quiet for a brief moment, shoulders tensing up as he stands with his back to Soap, clad in nothing but a pair of briefs, muscular form outlined by the light from his private toilet. Soap is still in Ghost’s bunk, naked as the day he was born, sweaty and covered in both his and his Lieutenant’s come. Ghost never cleans him up, just tosses him the towel after he’s done using it, before dismissing him from his room like they’d just had a briefing and not sex. Soap tries not to let that bother him. He really does. He fails, but at least he keeps it from showing. Usually.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Johnny.”

Ghost’s voice is flat when he speaks, but there’s a hint of a warning in it. He’s giving Soap a chance to walk back his words. He’s giving him an out.

Soap, as he so often does, barrels on ahead anyway.

“This. Us. What are we, to you?”

The words hang heavily in the air, and slowly, Ghost turns around to face him. His face, for once uncovered by his mask—a sight Soap only gets to see in these private moments between them, a sight he cherishes—is blank, eyes dark and cold like onyx.

“We are teammates,” Ghost replies, low and intense. “Colleagues that fuck each other to relieve stress, every once in awhile. Don’t make this into something that it’s not, MacTavish.”

Soap swallows, mouth dry, throat still sore from the beating Ghost’s cock had given it. Normally, Soap enjoys that, savoring the reminder of his time with the other man. Now, it just makes him feel hollow.

“Right then, Sir,” Soap says, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. He doesn’t bother to wait for Simon to throw him the towel clenched in his white-knuckled fist, wiping himself off on his Lieutenant’s sheets, suddenly desperate to leave. It’s petty, and the spark of irritation in Ghost’s stony eyes is satisfying. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“You need it again, and this is done, Sergeant,” Ghost warns, grabbing Soap’s clothes and tossing them at him hard, in retaliation for the sheets and just as eager for Soap to get the fuck out of his room, probably. Or maybe he just can’t stand the thought of not throwing something at Soap after fucking him. Bastard. “Understood?”

“Copy,” Soap responds as he stands up, clipped. He pulls on his jeans and t-shirt in silence, Ghost’s glare feeling like a physical thing as it burns holes into the side of his head. Soap ignores it as best he can, but his cheeks are flush with humiliation and anger simmers just beneath his skin. He knows he shouldn’t have asked. He knew what Ghost would say when he did. But Soap is a bloody fool that’s gone and fallen for the most emotionally constipated fuck in the entire SAS, and he’s never been able to leave well enough alone.

The worst part is that as hurt as Soap feels right now, as pissed off as he is at Ghost—he knows he’ll go crawling back to him. He won’t put an end to this like he should, won’t protect his stupidly fragile heart. He couldn’t if he wanted to—it already belongs to Ghost. And Soap doesn’t think he can ever get it back.

So he’ll put up with the coldness and the callousness. He’ll put up with being held at arm's length, never being allowed inside Ghost’s walls even when he’s literally inside Soap. He’ll put up with the hollowness in his chest and the curl of shame in his belly when he’s kicked out of Ghost’s bed time and time again, never allowed so much as a five minute cuddle.

It’s fucking pathetic, but Soap’ll take whatever he can get.

He’s a big boy. He can handle some hurt feelings.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he leaves Ghost’s room, the door slamming shut behind him the second he crosses the threshold.

***

Things are tense for a few days between him and Johnny.

Ghost has his guard up, walls freshly reinforced. His Sergeant had thoroughly unsettled Ghost with his questions, and for days, his skin feels like it's crawling everytime the other man is near. Ghost doesn’t let people get close, and Johnny is no exception.

Except that’s not quite true, and that’s what scares him.

Somehow, Johnny has wormed his way into Ghost’s life with that obnoxiously charming grin and his stupid fucking mohawk. He’s gotten closer to Ghost than any other living person, and instead of pushing him away, Ghost pushed him into his bloody bed instead.

He thinks about ending it, in the days following their last conversation. Seeks out Johnny once at their smoke spot to do just that—but he can’t bring himself to do it. And he knows that’s a problem, that he’s in too deep, that he needs to make a tactical retreat and regroup.

Instead, he offers Johnny a cigarette, and ignores the way his heart squeezes in his chest as he’s graced with the first smile he’s gotten in days from the other man.

Ghost should end things, he knows that. But he doesn’t.

He’s always been a selfish bastard.

continuation

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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 3 days ago

Note

If you're down for disaster fics, I'd love to see something where the team finds out Buck and Tommy are back together (it's been a secret ssshhhhh) after they get into a car accident together and they respond to the call. (Maybe Buck asked off for ~reasons~ and wouldn't tell anyone.)

Signed,

Actually V88SY

There’s this sound, a high-pitched whistling. Like shattered glass, its fragments rubbing against each other’s edges forever and ever. The sound shuts out everything else, even thoughts, though memories remain. This isn't the first time Buck has heard that tone, is it?

He’s twelve, almost 13, when he sneaks into the club through the backdoor; there’s a rock concert, and there’s a girl he knows will be there. Buck doesn’t have $40, he just has a crush, and there’s nobody at the backdoor. In the end, he stares at the bartender for a long time, fascinated by the guy’s long blonde hair and the clear kohl line around his green eyes. The girl he's interested in is somewhere in the crowd, and as Buck pushes his way through the dancing and jumping people, he ends up at the stage. He doesn't know the band, they're just a couple of loud musicians as far as that's concerned, but the bass booms through the speakers next to which he’s standing, and the strobe light burns into his retinas. It's exciting, at least until the next day, when there’s this high-pitched, loud whistling in his ears that just won't go away. He's tired from the long night, but using the noise as an excuse to miss school is a mistake. His mother drags him to the ear specialist, who diagnoses a hypersensitivity to high-pitched sounds, but that doesn't stop Buck from sitting in class by noon.

It sounds about the same now. Everything else is faded out, even... somehow, his body. He’s probably lying in bed, in that fleeting, foggy state just before falling asleep. Maybe he went to a concert? Maybe Buck decided, twenty years later, to make up for what he did as a teenager and actually pay for a band he likes. It’s just, he’s not a big music guy. Tommy is, though.

Why, of all people, Tommy is now creeping into his mind he doesn’t know, but why not? Why shouldn't he think of Tommy just before falling asleep, something he’s been doing for months anyway. About a week before the breakup, they talked about a concert, didn't they? Buck remembers smiling and nodding, watching Tommy enthusiastically talk about a band he had loved since he was a teenager, and who were actually playing a concert in L.A. A day later, Buck bought tickets without telling his boyfriend. Tommy never asked him to go to the event; he just assumed that Buck wouldn't be interested, and although Buck's secret was heavy on his tongue, it was easy to keep it because Tommy seemed to have forgotten about it. But that was months ago, and then they had broken up. Maybe, just maybe, Buck has gone to the concert alone, if only to remember what Tommy loved. He likes that thought. As it often does, one thought leads to another, and he remembers other times, other things. Places they’ve been together, people they met, things they’ve done. And things they would have liked to do, it all gets mixed up, a special cocktail. Ingredients: dreams and memories.

Buck is sleepy, warm and almost comfortable, if it weren't for that relentless whistling. He can't feel his body, which must mean that he has sunk deep into the mattress, his limbs heavy from a long shift. After the breakup, Buck spent so many days and nights lying in bed, watching Tommy’s traces vanish bit by bit. Then he thought of how the soft surface under Tommy's body had given way, sometimes leaving a hollow the next morning; a hollow with Tommy's outline that disappeared as the memory foam slowly returned to its original shape. Often he imagined they’d reconciled, realizing their split was the wrong move. In this scenario, Buck had fought for it, had demanded they’d talk, tear-streaked and desperate, but with vigor. And then, after more and mutual tears, long talks and confessions, they'd have pressed new hollows into the mattress, together.

Those fantasies never really stopped, they went on, he remembers every single one of them. Why now? He can’t say, but they’re sure distracting him from the sound in his ears. All these daydreams are as real as memories, and just as painless, which is the best part. There’s this one day when they make love on the beach, in a tiny, secluded cove that is rarely visited at this hour, or at any other hour for that matter. After that, they lie there, grains of sand on their skin and salt on their lips from the spray, when Buck’s phone disrupts this peacefulness. “An emergency,” he says regretfully after glancing at the display, “a large-scale operation, I think-” He doesn't get a chance to finish the sentence, as Tommy's phone starts buzzing, too. It’s the moment when they both realize that they don't want to destroy the magic. Not the magic of the moment; duty calls, that will always come first. No, the wonder of what they’ve recreated, this delicate plant that needs to be nurtured. Trust that must be earned, love that must be protected. It’s the moment when they decide to keep this new relationship secret.

Buck finds this decision not only logical, but proper. All of his friends, even his sister, advised him not to call Tommy, told him to take his mind off the matter, tried to persuade him to jump back into the pool after just a few weeks. This advice had always been welcome in the past, but now it aroused his mistrust. It was a small but constantly festering wound: no one recommended that he – a man in his 30s who had only just discovered his sexuality anew – talk things over with Tommy. Buck had never fought for many things in his life; he had accepted, given up, reoriented himself. He had always left, had made room, but this time he wanted to stay. The daydream feels so real, Buck seems to remember that they decided to keep their love a secret. That he went to work and acted as if he had spent his day off at home, “are you still brooding over Tommy?” someone asked, and he shook his head. A shake of the head can mean many things, not just refusal, and so it was not a lie, just as on many days and occasions later he never lied, he only bent the truth.

The dream memories come crashing down, raining down on him like broken glass, each shard carrying an image. Here’s Buck, gently smiling when his colleagues and friends ask him for his plans for the night; whatever story he’ll tell, truth is that he’ll rest his head in Tommy’s crook. There's Tommy, opening the door, his smile scrunching his nose as Buck crushes into his embrace. They're both in dozens of these memory shards, laughing and loving and learning, together. This should hurt, all the things that could have been, shouldn’t it? Yet, it doesn’t, it is a pleasant cocoon. Maybe a little tight, though. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Buck wakes up and finds himself completely twisted in sweaty sheets, as if he had tossed and turned in his sleep. Maybe he isalready sleeping, and these are not the minutes before falling into the land of dreams, but the flash of his consciousness between two phases of sleep.

Another sound mixes with the high-pitched whistling, disrupting the beautiful memories and dreams, a siren. The sound of his life, somehow. There was probably an accident. Maybe they need AirOps, and Tommy is already hovering over it all, looking at the world from above as if he is untouched by what’s happening below. But he isn’t. Tommy, Buck knows this now, tried to protect his heart precisely because it is so sensitive. Somehow the thought hurts now after all, weighs on his chest as if it wants to crush him. It's getting uncomfortable, time to wake up and fix the sheets, or his life, because…

Buck opens his eyes, and he remembers. He remembers everything.

“You really have tickets?” Tommy asks in disbelief, although Buck is already waving them in front of his eyes.

“I've got tickets. Have had them for months, ever since you mentioned the band is playing in the stadium. It’s a bit intimidating, I’ve got to say, such a big-”

Tommy shuts his mouth with a fierce kiss. Then he pushes him gently at arm's length, scrutinizing his face.

“When I told you about it... shortly after that we broke up, Evan.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, smiling. The memory no longer hurts.

“Why didn't you sell the tickets?”

Buck looks at him, pondering, and then he decides, after a long breath, to simply tell the truth. That's one of the things they agreed on when they decided to try again. To do it right this time. And it’s easy now, easy with Tommy’s large and warm hands on his shoulders, grounding him. If he wanted to, he could let himself fall into these arms now, he’d be safe, and that's what matters.

“I believe I was thinking of one of those rom-coms you like so much,” he finally says, completely without irony, because it’s true. Tommy, this big beefy guy with hobbies like Muay Thai, is a sucker for tv romance. “I thought that if I kept these tickets, it would be a reminder of what you love, and that, somehow, connects us.”

He watches Tommy’s gaze become soft; eyes so blue as a mountain lake in summer, one of Buck’s fondest memories.

“I thought maybe I'd work up the courage to go alone,” he continues. “I don't even know the band, that's not the point. I would have recognized you in everything, that’s it. At some point, they’d play a sentimental love song, and I’d turn around to see you in the crowd. You’d see me too, your eyes would light up…”

“Do I look sad?” Tommy asks softly.

By now they’re intimately entwined, so close that a sheet of paper wouldn't fit between them. They look like they're dancing. A few hours later, they actually will be, because the band is playing a love song, but it’s not sentimental at all.

“A little,” says Buck. There's nothing embarrassing about the fantasy, it just shows that his thoughts have always revolved around Tommy, who immediately gets it and even plays along. “Like a man who regrets his decision upon seeing me.”

“Pretty smug,” Tommy replies with his lips on Buck's neck.

They leave a little late because fantasy and reality mix in the most pleasant way after this, but they still arrive on time. The concert is actually fun, it’s a captivating band, and Tommy is so happy. Perhaps Buck will never forget the moment when Tommy actually left him, his petrified face with this it’s for the best-look. But he also saw Tommy's eyes on the brink of tears, and that's what he clings to for weeks. The thought that Tommy didn’t want this, that he might regret it grows stronger every time people tell him to get over it. They have a lot of catching up to do when they get back together, half a year of ignorance that they both need to work out. But now they're happier than ever, because going through difficult times together brings people closer. Buck knows this; he just should have remembered it sooner.

A lot of time has passed since they broke up, but even the attentive Hen hasn't noticed when Buck stopped baking cakes and bread. Nobody, not even Maddie, would’ve been able to tell the exact moment when he stopped looking sad, when he started to laugh again, to live again. Another reason why he chose to not tell anybody, as if it were like the silly saying on the station’s coffee mugs, taken literally: bad mojo, if you don’t get enough of what you need. All firefighters are superstitious, to a certain extent, and maybe Buck just doesn’t want to jinx it. Not even Eddie knows, who has left a gap in Buck's life – a different kind of loss, and a different kind of pain. Eddie is happy, he’s content now, and it would have been easy to share this secret with his best friend, even more so with all the miles between them. A part of Buck that he's trying to leave behind now that he's happy with Tommy again, at least that part of him is resentful of Eddie. But… maybe, this loss upon losses was just the final straw, the last drop on a bucket full of sorrow. Just what he needed to feel anger again about life, choosing to not be fair to him once more. Only this time he used the anger constructively, not turning it against himself. He used it to understand that the world didn't revolve around him. It was the moment he realized that ultimately, everything had always turned out well for him, that there had always been someone to catch him; family and friends who were always there for him in one way or another. Tommy had never had that. It was only when understanding finally dawned that Buck began to see behind the façade.

They dance at the concert like lovers do, oblivious, as if there weren't this surging crowd around them. They hold each other's hands, and Buck watches Tommy's face fascinated as he sings along loudly to lyrics Buck doesn't recognize. Has he ever been so carefree? He’s different, now that they’re back together, and still the same. Still reliable, calm and endearing, but also more open, more… himself. It’s a side of Tommy that makes Buck’s heart ache with warmth. For the first time in his life, he realizes he can make people happy. He’s long since become more than the worthless spare parts he saw himself as for so many years. He’s a firefighter, a friend, a brother-in-law and a brother, and now he’s a lover again, and it’s beautiful. Buck is watching Tommy’s lips move without even hearing him sing, it’s just too loud, and he draws him close and seals those lips with his own.

The concert lasts almost three hours, the band plays overtime, encore after encore rushing over the ecstatic crowd. It’s almost midnight when they finally hit the road again, and Buck is so overstimulated by everything that he’s glad Tommy is driving. It's not easy to get out of the parking garage; thousands of people are moving towards their cars, and the line at the exit is long. Buck rolls down the window as they inch along the freeway behind all the concert-goers. L.A.’s air is rarely fresh, but today it is at least crisp enough to calm his overflowing thoughts a little. He can still feel the bass booming in his ears. Buck knows that the ringing in his ears will only get worse; it will probably plague him throughout the next day, and he will need an excuse if he can't hear well during his shift. But there’s this smile on Tommy’s face, even if his face is focused while driving, and Buck thinks that it was worth it.

The ride is slow, but that doesn't matter; Tommy has a CD with the band's latest album in the car, and thus the concert continues for a while. It’s a good time, almost surreal, as if time has stood still. At least until the moment when the traffic suddenly starts moving again. A cool breeze wafts around Buck’s heated face, and he feels larger than life, invincible. This night, the ride home might last forever, and he’d be fine with it.

Except it doesn’t, and he’s not.

The noise in his ears is getting louder, a whistling much shriller than the sound of the airflow from the window. But louder still is the bang that ends it all.

It does not end.

The world returns like the sound in Buck’s ears; all of a sudden, as if to say surprise, it's not over yet. The weight on his chest is not the result of gloomy thoughts, but of the seat belt cutting into his skin. This will leave marks, deep bruises in various shades of blue, and it will continue to hurt for days. Buck's arms are heavy, and he wonders why they're the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, until he realizes that he reflexively extended them as if the firefighter part of him knew there was going to be an impact. His hands are pressed into the airbag, and a doctor will later remark that it’s a miracle he didn’t break both wrists. It certainly feels like it, but his hands are only, if heavily, bruised. He regards the impending swelling almost clinically, like any first responder who has to create a catalog of injuries in his head in order to assess the situation.

It’s very quiet, and that seems strange, somehow. Part of him clearly understands what has happened. You don't need to be a psychic to work out that there has been an accident, a multiple pile-up on the highway. Later, it will be known that one of the drivers who left the stadium was drunk. Intoxicated and impatient, because the traffic jams kept coming. In a few weeks, one of the people involved in the accident will sue the city and the stadium owners because what kind of security concept is it that allows thousands of people to try to leave a place at the same time, without anyone advising them to use the other exits, the other arterial roads? It’s unlikely that the accident could have been prevented, but the lawyers are making a good living out of it.

Right now, that moment is still a long way off. For now, Buck is alone with the whistling in his ear and the otherwise eerie silence, with his aching arms and hands, and…

Except he’s not alone, is he?

There's a cracking sound at the back of his neck as Buck turns his head far too quickly. His eyes widen as he realizes what seems inconceivable: the airbag on the driver's side hasn’t deployed. It seems like a cruel twist of fate, but Buck has given up on blaming destiny. It's a coincidence, a painful, stupid coincidence, that his airbag deployed and Tommy's didn't. Tommy's head was flung forward by the impact, onto the steering wheel, with nothing in between to soften the crash. Not that it would have helped much; now that Buck's almost clear-headed again, his hands are reporting a thousand pinpricks, as if his limbs had fallen asleep and were now struggling to come back to reality. They’re pinpricks now, he knows it will get so much worse in a couple of hours. He can hardly move them, but he has to. There’s a narrow but horrifyingly distinct trail of blood on the steering wheel.

Buck forces his fingers to move, sending instructions through his neural pathways with pure willpower. He’s surprised when his hands actually come off the airbag, and even more surprised that there’s still feeling in his fingertips, because when he puts them on Tommy's carotid artery, he feels a pulse. It’s steady, not too weak; relief washes over Buck, momentarily pushing all the pain into the background. His fingers glide gently across Tommy's cheek, “Tommy,” he urges, “open your eyes for me, will you?”

He can't lose him. Buck knows he won't, he just felt his pulse, the man will come around; such a thick skull, it will withstand a lot. But reality crashes over him like a wave, washes the hardest of all truths up on the beach of his thoughts: those who love have something to lose. There it is, the last missing link: admitting it to himself. He loves him, and he wants to hold on to this, to them. Really hold on to it this time.

Tommy stirs. Buck almost holds his breath, realizes it, and then coughs in shaky spurts. Tommy's shamelessly long eyelashes twitch. It seems to take an eternity, an eternity during which the world outside awakens – screams and sirens in the distance can be heard, and perhaps the hissing, ominous sound of fire. He blocks out all the rest, concentrating only on the here and now and the narrow, now even smaller space and on Tommy, who finally opens his eyes. His lips twitch in a vain attempt to form words, he blinks and raises his head very, very slowly. Analytically, but also with concern, part of Buck notes that Tommy's pupils are different sizes. He looks at him, and as his mind and mouth catch up, he says, “My airbag didn't deploy.”

“It didn't,” Buck confirms.

“Are you all right?”

“I'm fine.”

It's just a little exchange, and they both know it's not true; neither of them is doing well, but this kind of white lie is perfectly fine. They only have to look at each other to know that everything will be all right. Actually, this is one of those situations where they would normally both jump out of the car, ran out to see where help was needed. But now help is needed in here, now they will be there for each other. The sirens are getting louder, getting closer.

“It wasn't a dream,” Buck suddenly says, and Tommy's brows – one of them bloodied, the tear above it will require stitches – rise questioningly. “They were real memories, right? We’re… we are a thing. We’re together. We’re a couple.”

“Evan?”

Tommy suddenly looks worried, and Buck get’s it; he stammers and acts like a man with a concussion, even though Tommy is the one who hit his head on the steering wheel.

“Just tell me it's true,” Buck breathes. He needs to hear it now, before the last bit of adrenaline leaves his body and fear will creep through his veins. The shock will inevitably come if he lets the sounds of the accident, which can still be heard, get too close to him.

“Of course it's true,” Tommy replies, even though his usually charming smile is a little crooked with pain he can’t really hide anymore.

Buck heaves a sigh, “Great, because I'd be sorry if I confessed my love to a mirage.”

“You… what?”

“Oh, don't think it's just oxytocin that wants to distract my brain. This is real, you confirmed it, so I will confirm it too: I love you, Thomas Kinard, my first, my last, my everything.”

“You're quoting a song.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

They smile at each other, and Buck already knows. It’d be nice to hear it, but maybe he doesn’t really need to hear it. Maybe his life finally teaches him, who spent his life chasing love, that love doesn’t always express itself loudly.

“I don't want to say it now, not here,” replies Tommy. ”I even have a sore tongue, it’s not fair. I want to tell you when we’re both without pain, alone and…”

“But we are alone,” Buck interjects with a smile, but Tommy shakes his head.

“Not for much longer.”

Sure enough, when Buck focuses, he can tune out the whistling in his ears; there are squealing tires, orders being shouted, a fire hose being rolled out.

“Oh,” he says, ”Oh. There will be questions.”

“Maybe it's not the 118.”

“You don't believe that yourself.”

They’re arguing like an old couple, Buck realizes, a soft kind of bickering that warms his heart. They’re not old, but they are a couple.

“Maybe it’s time to tell them,” he says.

“You sure?”

It seems difficult, but Tommy manages to raise a hand and put it on Buck's. That must have hurt, but he did it anyway, and maybe that’s their new motto: to do it anyway.

“I’m sure.”

My heart is sure.

[AO3 version] Thank you so much for this prompt! It turned out a bit different than what you probably imagined, but I still hope you like it.

#writing #fanfiction #BuckTommy #BuckTommy fanfic #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 fanfic #tevan #kinley #angst with a happy ending #whump

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three-realms-archive · 1 day ago

Text

Biggest Crush

Summary/Details: MC sees someone on TV that they haven’t seen in a while, and the brothers react accordingly. Fluffy and light, all brothers included!

You didn’t mind being squished in between Mammon and Beelzebub on the sofa for the weekly movie night. The former took the opportunity to not-so-subtly snuggle into your side, whilst the latter held a comically-large bowl of popcorn; eighty-percent of which was probably for himself. The movie you watched was some old film that the brothers’ apparently had some nostalgia for, but could only be found on DevilTube. Inevitably, this meant an advertisement would play every so often; and your eyes lit up as a familiar demon flashed up on screen.

“Woah, it’s Darkfang! Yo…” you said, tossing some of Beel’s popcorn into your mouth. The sixth-born simply smiled, content at seeing your cheeks so adorably full, as you continued. “He was the first Devildom idol I ever got into!”

A few noises and hums of acknowledgement came from the brothers. On the TV screen, Darkfang flashed a handsome, cocky smile, winking at the viewer as he showed off what you assumed to be a new fashion line. You feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you.

“Y’know,” you began, voice slightly muffled as you chewed, “I had, like, the biggest crush on him back when I first got here.”

Silence, this time.

Lucifer tensed up. Leviathan peered up from his D.D.D for the first time that evening, with an imperceptible yelp. Satan balled his fists in his lap to stay composed. Asmo bit his lip. Beel stopped eating. Belphegor’s tail thrashed against the carpet.

Mammon’s grip on you was getting a little tight.

“Hey, Mam’. You mind squeezing a bit lighter?” You say nonchalantly, eyes focused completely on the movie, which had started up again after the advert had finished.

Little did you know, no one was paying attention to the movie anymore.

Instead, each brother replayed the advert in their mind; determined to one-up their new competition.

Later that week, something strange happened around the House of Lamentation.

Well. Strange things always happened… but this was different.

Suddenly, everyone was into idols. You caught Asmo and Levi studying idol performances more intensely than you had ever seen them study for an exam. Beel had even joined them for dancing practice each morning - complete with synchronised singing and chanting. You could hear the commotion from your room, and it now served as your alarm.

You figured this fascination with idol culture was what got Satan, Belphegor and Mammon in the music room every day after school. They didn’t know you knew, but it was pretty hard to miss when Mammon’s cries of ‘we sound so much better than that idiot!’ rang throughout the halls, accompanied by the rather-hideous combination of sounds from an electric guitar, a classical piano, and a cowbell.

Then, there was Lucifer. You tiptoed quietly into his study one evening, intending to remind him to get some rest. Instead, you found Lucifer sound asleep, his head on his desk… and a poster of Darkfang nestled under his cheek. Beside it were notes - meticulous, handwritten notes - with various facts you recognised about Darkfang’s height, weight, workout routine, diet… even his favourite pie flavour?

“Oh my Diavolo… I never guessed they’d all become Darkfang fans!” You whisper excitedly, blissfully ignorant to the brothers’ true motives. “I’ll start watching him on TV more often.”

(i’m probs gonna start doing more comedy amongst the angst storm lol. a lot of family friends way younger than me recently got into kpop, and i started watching and looking back at old idols i liked - especially vocaloid and kpop idols that gained popularity around the bts wings era. feel free to share any idols you guys liked as a kid/teen!)

#idk about u guys but my favourite idol group is obey me boys #my bias is kyohei yaguchi #hungry six pack is legit a song i would listen to in a normal playlist #remix and original its so good bros #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me writing #obey me mc #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me beelzebub #obey me mammon #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me fluff

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arabella0001 · 2 days ago

Text

i writed like 2 days for this beloved man

kisuke doesn’t reveal his bankai often, lucky for you, he’s got plenty of other things he’s more willing to show

anime: bleach

pairings: kisuke urahara x reader

synopsis: curiosity killed the cat

warnings: long, a lot of tessing, edging, fingering, oral (male receiving), light rough sex, after care

You’ve always been aware of Kisuke.

He’s not the kind of man you can easily ignore. Whether it was that sly smile constantly tugging at his lips that makes him appearing carefree, his strategic mind always masking his true intentions or his frequently teasins others—expecially you. Kisuke Urahara had an irritating talent for making you blush. And as much as you found that part of him infuriatingly attractive, you never thought it was anything more than a game to him.

Why would it be? He’s teased you so many times it feels like second nature—just a harmless habit he indulged in because he could.

So you never let yourself think too much about him that way. It was easier to brush it off, to assume that was just who he was. Expecially when you’re not the only person he does this to.

But you’ve been working at Kisuke’s shop long enough to know when something’s up, like deflection from his true reasons.

His usual antics are predictable—constant teasing, sly remarks—but today feels different. His presence is present more, his touches wandering a little longer than usual, and the way his eyes track you isn’t just casual. It’s calculated.

You try to ignore it. It’s probably nothing.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself until he slides up behind you while you’re reorganizing shelves. His hand finds your shoulder, fingers snaking lazily around it.

His breath is warm against your ear, the flirtatious edge unmistakable.

“Well, well… look at you. Working so hard today. I hardly recognize you”

You fumble with the item in your hand, nearly dropping it. He’s too close—too casual about the way he leans in, his chest almost brushing your back. Is not like your touch deprived, but you’re not used to it, and his attractive persona and unconventional charm doesn’t help either.

“I-I just want to finish up quickly,” you stammer, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel. “The faster I finish, the sooner I can get home.”

“Oh? In a hurry, are we?” His voice dips lower, humor lacing around every word.

You feel his gaze on you, unwavering, even as you force yourself to focus on the shelves.

Kisuke steps in closer, his arm brushing against yours as he pretends to help by reaching for something—his fingers grazing yours. If you believe in coincidences, that is.

“Home’s nice and all,” he murmurs, voice quiet enough that it feels just for you. “But I can’t help but wonder… no date waiting for you?”

Your breath catches. You edge back, pretending to adjust a box. Why he is suddenly interested in this kind of answears?

Kisuke sees right through it, of course.

“A date?” you scoff, trying to recover. “Like I have time for that. I barely keep up with work here, let alone everything else.”

His smug smile widens. “Ah, yes. The ever-dedicated worker. Sacrificing love for labor. How tragic.” And you barely contain to don’t roll your eyes at that.

He leans in slightly. “A shame, really. I would’ve thought you’d have a long line of admirers by now.”

Your cheeks flush despite your best efforts, and you curse inwardly.

“I—I need a break,” you mutter, practically fleeing outside before he can say anything else.

His chuckle follows you out. “Take your time. I’ll be here if you miss me’’

You exhale, pacing just outside the shop.

What the hell is he doing today? Is he bored? Is he messing with you?

But after a few minutes, you manage to cool off. You tell yourself you’re imagining things, you need to just mind your business.

When you step back inside, Kisuke is laughing with the others, his usual breezy self. He’s chatting with Tessai and Jinta, but his eyes flicker toward you briefly—so brief it’s almost dismissible. Almost.

The day winds down, but the weight of his gaze follows you. Every now and then, when he thinks you aren’t paying attention, you catch him watching.

Evening comes, and after the last customer leaves, you finally snap.

“What’s your deal, Kisuke?” you blurt, arms crossing as you glare at him from across the room.

He pauses, leaning lazily against the counter. His hat tilts forward, shadowing his green eyes, but that damn grin remains.

“Deal?” he echoes, tapping his chin. “I’m just admiring your craftsmanship. Can’t a humble shop owner appreciate his employee’s dedication?”

You narrow your eyes, not buying it. “You never watch me like this.”

Kisuke chuckles, but the glint in his eye sharpens. “Well, you did say you wanted me to stop hiding behind jokes. I’m just giving you what you asked for.”

He steps forward. One step. Then another.

You retreat instinctively until your back brushes the wall. His hand lifts, palm flattening against the wall beside your head, caging you in.

You swallow hard, your eyes stretched in surprise. “Kisuke—”

“Oh?” His eyes flicker, and the usual playfulness deepens into something heavier, unsettling. “That’s the second time you’ve said my name like that. I’m starting to think you like this.”

His face looms over yours, his breath fanning across your lips.

“Well?” His voice lowers, teasing but firm. “Didn’t you ask me to stop playing around?”

Your pulse quickens. Heat rises in your chest. You didn’t see this coming at all.

“I… didn’t see expect this… whatever this is,” you admit, voice quieter than intended.

Kisuke hums softly, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw, tilting your face up just enough to catch his eyes hidden behind the brim of his hat.

“Expect?” he repeats, the word rolling lazily off his tongue. “Sweet thing, I live to defy expectations.”

His gaze drops to your lips—smooth and slow. You notice. And he knows you notice.

His hand slips lower, fingers grazing your hip. Light enough to make you shudder, unrushed enough to know exactly what he’s doing.

Your eyes flick between his lips and his unreadable gaze. “You drive me insane,” you murmur, frustration blending with something else.

“I noticed,” he says easily, arrogant while tilting his head. “So… what are we going to do about it?”

You think for a moment and then.

You kiss him.

His response is immediate. One hand slides to the small of your back, tugging you body against him as his lips part against yours. The kiss deepens—measured but heated, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth, coaxing a quiet moan from you.

There’s a moment where his teasing pauses, lips parting as his head tilts back slightly.His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling just enough to tilt your head further. He swallows every sound you make, his grip on your waist tightening.

You gasp when his lips trail down, nipping at the soft skin of your neck. A low, rumbling hum escapes his throat, as if savoring the way you feel beneath him.

“Sensitive, aren’t we?” Kisuke chuckles against your skin, lips brushing just below your ear. His hand drifts lower, fingers teasing the curve of your thigh.

“Kisuke…” you manage, your voice shaky.

“Oh, I like the way you say my name,” he murmurs, his lips tracing your pulse. “But I think you can do better.”

His hand inches higher. There’s weight behind his touch, but it’s not rushed—it’s the slow, savoring kind of touch, as if he’s in no hurry to reach the finish line.

You groan softly, pressing closer. “Touch me.”

Kisuke’s breath hitches faintly. His smirk returns, curling lazily against your neck.

“Touch you?” he echoes, fingers skating just beneath the hem of your shirt. “My, my. Forward tonight, aren’t we?”

But he doesn’t stop.

His fingers deftly unbutton your pants and slip inside, finding your already dampened panties. He rubs slow circles over your sensitive flesh, making you gasp into the kiss.

"Tsk tsk… Someone’s more responsive than I expected. Should I take credit for this?’’ he teases, nipping at your lower lip before trailing kisses along your jawline.

He pulls back just enough to gaze into your flushed face, a mysterious smile playing on his own lips.

“We wouldn’t want to cause a scene—at least, not here. Shall we?”

With a flick of his wrist, the store's security charms disappear, leaving the two of you alone amidst the shelves of Soul Society merchandise.

Your legs tremble as he continues to tease you through your underwear, the sensation of his fingers on your most intimate area driving you wild with need. You almost hate how your body reacts to him.

At his words, you glance around the shop, a mix of excitement and uncertainty coursing through you.

Noticing your glance, he let out a low scoff, fingers never ceasing their maddening caress. "Oh, don't worry, dear. No one will disturb us. These charms ensure our privacy."

He leans in close again as he whispers,’’Let’s take this somewhere more… accommodatin, hmm?’’

With a effortless motion, he lifts you onto the counter, the cold glass beneath your thighs a stark contrast to the heat building within you. His hands immediately resume their exploration, this time slipping beneath your skirt to push your panties aside.

"Such a responsive little thing, aren't you?" he muses, his thumb circling your clit as his big fingers delve deeper, stroking your slick inner walls.

You moan loudly, unable to hold back the pleasure as he touches you so intimately. Your hips buck against his hand instinctively, craving more friction.

"Oh god, Kisuke... Please... I need..."you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders as you cling to him desperately.

The way he's playing with your body, the filthy and teasing words spilling from his lips, you can feel the coil of tension in your pussy tightening, ready to snap at any moment.

"Just... Just make me come," you so close to begging, your voice trembling with desire "I can't take anymore..."

Kisuke's cheeky smirk widens as he watches your reactions, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Feeling a bit overwhelmed, hmm? Can't handle a little teasing?"

He slows his movements, letting his fingers just graze your sensitive spots, stoking the flames of craving rather than quenching them, looking at your submissive look, whimpering for release. He smirks at you, taking your mouth in an intense kiss, his movements low and precise, driving you mad.

He bite your lip and you moan, you can’t take it anymore.

“I hate you” you barely managed to let it out.

With a sudden shift, he resumes his previous rhythm, his fingers plunging deep and fast, hitting that exact spot inside you that left you trembeling.

"Ah… such harsh words for someone trembling under me." Kisuke’s chuckle vibrates against your skin, low and rich, the sound curling around you like smoke. "I must be doing something right to earn that kind of praise."

He drags his tongue along the curve of your throat again, lingering when he reaches the soft thrum of your pulse, his hand grabbing your hair with a light tug making you gasp.

"I wonder if you even realize how much you give away… Naughty thing, getting this worked up over a little attention."

He pulls back just enough to catch your gaze, eyes gleaming with that familiar glint of trouble. "Don’t worry, Y/N. I don’t mind. In fact…" He leans in, brushing his lips just barely over yours. "I find it rather endearing."

You can’t understand how his teasing words make you so aroused, your legs tremble so hard while your vision start blurring.

“Kisuke oh my—“

As your orgasm crashes over you, Kisuke's fingers continue their relentless strokes, prolonging your climax until you're writhing and sobbing with pleasure. Only when your spasms begin to subside does he slow, then withdraw his fingers from your still-quivering pussy.

He brings them to his lips, sucking your essence clean with a satisfied hum. Kisuke smooths down your skirt with practiced ease, his hands on you thighs "There we go—neat and presentable"

His tone is light, but the wicked gleam in his eyes betrays him. It’s as if he hadn’t just left you shaken and undone.

Without waiting for an answer, Kisuke pulls you to your feet gently, guiding you through the dimly-lit shop by your hands until you reach the tucked-away corner of his personal space. The faint scent of sandalwood lingers in the air, grounding yet evidently his.

His gaze flickers with desire as he eases you onto the couch, standing over you with a quiet intensity. "Now, let’s see… where were we?"

Kisuke’s fingers ghost over your skin as he undoes your clothing piece by piece, his movements deliberate but unhurried.

"Ah… what a sight," he muses, trailing a fingertip down the curve of your collarbone, his finger circling your swollen peck, hardening in his wake. “Almost as captivating as the hidden gems of this shop. But I must admit…" His eyes catch yours, glinting with something darker. "You’re far more tempting."

His hands continue their exploratory journey, tracing the curves of your body with a gentle firmness.

Kisuke’s fingers trace delicate patterns over your sensitive skin, your arms and waist, your thighs and hips, drawing out soft whimpers and gasps that only seem to fuel his amusement.

"Oh, I hear you loud and clear, darling. But let’t have a little patience…" his lips hover near your ear, his voice a velvety purr.

With a lazy flick of his wrist, your skirt slips to the floor, pooling at your feet. Kisuke steps back just slightly, his gaze roaming over you, drinking in the sight with a dangerous glint dancing behind his half-lidded eyes making you flusttered.

"Mmm… now that’s a view worth savoring." His fingers ghost along the edge of your lace panties, knuckles grazing your hips as if testing the boundaries of his self-control. "Let’s see what other secrets you’re hiding, shall we? I think these curves deserve a little more… attention."

His hand lingers, not moving further just yet, letting the weight of his words—and his gaze—sink into you.

Your cheek flush under his intense gaze “Your turn now” Kisuke's eyes still flash with amusement as you boldly strip him bare, revealing his lean, toned physique. He doesn't resist, instead leaning back to allow you full access.

"Well now, isn't this a surprise? The tables have turned, haven't they?" he remarks, his voice tinged with fascination intrigue.

As your hands wander across his body, eager and curious, Kisuke’s gaze never wavers.

His muscles tense beneath your palms, subtle but telling. His body responds instinctively, hips canting forward with a deliberate slowness that lets him draw out every second of pleasure.

"Careful now, Y/N… you might unearth secrets even I’ve forgotten I was hiding."

His hands slide effortlessly to your hips, fingers pressing in just enough to remind you who’s leading this dance. With a gentle tug, he pulls you against him, the heat between you igniting like a slow burn.

The heat of his body envelops you, and you can feel the hardness of his arousal pressing insistently against your belly.

"Now, why don't you show me what else you're capable of, my little explorer?" he whisper, tilting his head just enough to brush his lips over the corner of your mouth

Kisuke's breath hitches as your lips and tongue trail a scorching path down his torso, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. He threads his fingers through your hair, guiding you lower.

“Mmm… careful now, Y/N. You're treading dangerous ground," Kisuke muses, his voice low and laced with desire. "Once you start something like this… stopping isn’t so simple."

His warning is light, but there’s no real intention behind it. He makes no move to dissuade you, his gaze fixed intently as you sink to your knees before him. His eyes widen slightly, that flirtatious glint tempered by something far more primal.

"Oh? Bold as ever…" he murmurs, his head tilting slightly, the smirk tugging at his lips betraying just how much he’s enjoying this. "Tell me, my curious little kitten—" his hips shift forward, just enough to tempt, "—will you strike now, or are you going to let your prey squirm a little longer?"

The challenge hangs between you, thick and electric, his gaze unrelenting as he waits for your next move.

You look up at him shyly, your eyes locked with his as you wrap your fingers around his rigid cock, giving it a slow squeeze.

Kisuke's eyes roll back, a low groan rumbling in his chest as your hand closes around his throbbing member. A shaky exhale slips through gritted teeth, and for once, the usual witty remarks are replaced by quiet, indulgent groans.

He rocks his hips, subtly thrusting into your grasp, seeking more of that exquisite pressure. The sight of your flushed cheeks and lust-filled eyes only fuels his arousal. His pupils dilate, lingering on your errotic position as if committing the image to memory.

"Look at you, so bold and daring," he praises, his voice strained with pleasure.

With a fluid motion, he guides your head closer, the tip of his erection brushing against your parted lips. "Why don't you put that clever mouth of yoursto use, hmm?´’ He tilts his head slightly as he watches your reaction unfold. "No pressure, of course… but I’d hate to think all that potential is going to waste."

Kisuke's breath catches in his throat as you take him into your mouth, his hips rocking in a slow, deliberate rhythm. "Well, well, looks like someone's eager to please—mmm”

His gaze lingers, drinking in every reaction you give, clearly savoring the effect he has on you. He felt your throat muscles flutter around his cock, the vibration of your muffed moans make it so hard for him to control himself.

His eyes narrow slightly, his usual demanour unexpected slipping into something more untamed, running his fingers through your hair, guiding you to take him deeper, he is panting as your tongue swirls around the sensitive head of his cock—it was pure eroticism.

Kisuke's gaze bores into you, his expression a mix of playful smugness and intense focus. He's clearly enjoying the sensation, but there's an undercurrent of something more – a challenge, a game of cat and mouse.

Kisuke's breath hitches again as you increase your efforts, his grip on your hair tightening reflexively, his knuckles turning white.

He press forward hitting the back of your mouth. He held still for a moment, savoring the sensation of being deepthroated by you. He tries to maintain his composure, but the intensity of your oral attentions and you innocent flushed cheecks is quickly eroding his defenses.

"Hah... Y/N, you naughty minx," he manages to gasp out between clenched teeth, his hips beginning to piston faster. "If you keep that up, I won't be responsible for my actions."

Despite his warning, Kisuke allows himself to surrender to the pleasure, his movements becoming more erratic and forceful. His groans make clear he won't last much longer under your skilled onslaught.

He decided to pull out before is too late, panting heavily. He lifts you onto the plush couch, his hands roaming your curves with a possessive touch while you still recover, face ravished and your voice more hoarse.

“Time for the main event, my dear. Are you ready to see what this old fox is truly capable of?" his eyes is searching yours, looking for consent “May I continue?”

Seeing you nod immediately, he settles between your thighs, his hard length nudging against your entrance. With a wicked grin, he teases you with shallow thrusts, barely penetrating you before withdrawing making you whimper.

Kisuke's fingers dig into your hips as he grips them, holding you in place as he lines himself up once more. This time, he drives forward with a smooth, powerful stroke making you moan loudly as he fills you completely, your nails digging into his back.

“Ahhh—“ Kisuke's lips curve into a triumphant smirk as he feels you stretch around him, your inner walls clenching tightly around his invading length.

His back arches subtly, muscles rippling beneath your touch. He stills for a moment, savoring the feeling of being buried so deeply inside you, making him gasp. There’s a hitch in his rhythm, as if even he can’t maintain the act when it feels this good.

"Oh, I think the gods are very pleased indeed," he teases, his voice low and rough with satisfaction. "To think, I was worried you might not be able to handle me after all."

With a subtle shift of his hips, Kisuke begins to move, setting a languid, sensual rhythm that has you panting, writhing beneath him. His hands roam your body, caressing and exploring every inch of skin he can reach.

You can’t even control your moans, bucking your hips to meet his deep thrusts

“Fuck fuck fuck—“

Kisuke's eyes glint with delight as he listens to your impassioned cries, his hips snapping against yours with increased urgency. His teeth graze your earlobe, breath hot against your skin. "Don’t worry. I’ll give you exactly what you need”

Kisuke's hands slide down to hold your thighs, spreading them wider as he picks up speed, driving into you with long, deep strokes that have you teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

“Mmmm…you are too big” Kisuke's smirk widens at your indirect praise, his chest puffing up with masculine pride. "Of course I am, dear. After all, I am a master of my craft."

He punctuates his statement with a particularly forceful thrust, grinding against your sensitive clit as he bottoms out inside you. "But size isn't everything, now is it? It's how I wield it that truly matters."

Kisuke's fingers dig into your thighs, holding you steady as he continues to pound into you with relentless precision, each stroke hitting that perfect spot deep within. A soft groan escapes him, muffled against the curve of your neck, and his fingers flex—digging in just enough to leave faint marks in their wake.

Kisuke's smile widen as he watches you writhe beneath him"Oh, you're enjoying this, aren't you? Getting so nicely worked up on my cock.

He rolls his hips, grinding against you with a tantalizing slowness that has you arching off the couch. "I must admit, I'm rather fond of seeing you like this - all flushed and desperate for release. It's quite...flattering, really."

Kisuke's hands skim down your sides, his fingertips dancing along your ribs in a maddeningly light touch.

Your whole body trembeling with the effort of holding back you orgasm “Kisuke…please harder—“

Kisuke's eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise at your plea, a wicked gleam entering his eye. “Harder, you say? Oh, but where's the fun in that, my dear?"

He slows his pace to a teasing crawl, his cock dragging deliciously against your sensitive inner walls. “You know, some people might call this torture. But I prefer to think of it as...extended pleasure."

Kisuke's hands tighten your hips, pulling you onto him with a sudden, brutal thrust that has you crying out in a combination with pleasure and agony. "There, does that hit the spot? Or would you like me to continue our delightful game?”

As you let out a piercing scream, Kisuke's eyes lock onto yours, his gaze intense and unyielding. He doesn't break eye contact as he plunges deep, his thick length stretching you to the limit. He presses his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged but steady, as his lips curl into a faint smirk.

“Such a beautiful sound, ,Y/N he murmurs while his hips begin to move again, each thrust precise and powerful, designed to drive you wild with pleasure. His hands roam your body, fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he pours all his focus into bringing you to the brink and beyond.

Kisuke’s lips curl into a knowing smile as he senses your impending climax, his eyes never leaving yours.

His hips snap forward with a particularly deep, forceful thrust as he aims to send you hurtling over the edge “Don’t hold back now… I’m enjoying the show."

Kisuke's fingers flex against your skin, his movements become more urgent, driven by the need to bring you to completion and savor the rush of your release.

Kisuke's expression shifts from playful to utterly focused, his eyes burning with intensity as he watches you unravel beneath him and for a fleeting moment, you feel the raw, unfiltered need behind his touch.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself inside you, his own orgasm crashing over him in tandem with yours. Kisuke's hips jerk erratically as he spills deep inside you, his hot seed painting your inner walls as he rides out the aftershocks.

Kisuke’s breathing slows, but the satisfied grin on his lips remains as if permanently etched there. His blond hair falls messily over his eyes, though the sharp glint behind them remains as he leans back just enough to meet your gaze.

“Well, well… I’d say that was time well spent,” he muses, voice low and lazy, but pleased with himself. “You look like you’ve had your fill. Though, I wouldn’t mind another round of applause for my efforts.”

His words drip with a harmless humour, but there’s something softer beneath it—something he won’t name, even if you asked.

Kisuke stretches out on the couch beside you, one arm props his head up, while the other lazily draws faint shapes along the curve of your hip, like he’s absentmindedly tracing a map only he can read.

“You know,” he drawls, “for someone who claims not to trust me, you seem awfully comfortable right now. I’d almost say you like having me around.”

His gaze flickers to yours, watching for that telltale flicker of embarrassment he so dearly loves to coax out of you.

Kisuke’s chest still rises and falls against you, slow and deliberate, but there’s an alertness in his posture. He’s aware—always aware—and the slight downturn of your eyes doesn’t escape him. His fingers pause for half a second before resuming their lazy path.

“Well, you’re certainly more relaxed now,” he notes, watching you with that familiar sharpness. His hand shifts, brushing a stray lock of hair from your damp forehead, tucking it behind your ear with careful precision. “Though, if this was your master plan to seduce me, I have to say… you could’ve just asked.” Your cheeck blush at his remark

“I hate to admit but indeed i’m relaxed” Your voice carry a playful cadence, but you catch his gaze lingers too long for it to be entirely superficial. You know him well enough to recognize it—he’s watching for something.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” you shoot back, though your voice lacks its usual bite. You feel raw—too exposed under his gaze. It’s unfamiliar, needing something more than teasing remarks.

Kisuke laughs softly, but there’s a subtle shift in his expression. His hand doesn’t leave your hair, fingers threading through the strands with a gentleness that feels almost foreign coming from him.

“My plan? Ohoho, I wish I could take credit for such a clever scheme,” he purrs, but the usual exaggerated flair is dialed back. “No, I just happen to be exceptionally gifted at identifying tension. And relieving it.”

His arm curls around your waist, pulling you just close enough for his nose to brush against your temple. He doesn’t press for more; the gesture is light, easy, like breathing. Kisuke smells faintly of sandalwood and something sharper—like incense that hasn’t quite burned out.

“Relax,” he murmurs against your hair, voice dropping into something softer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your body sinks into his chest almost involuntarily, and for once, Kisuke lets the silence hang between you. His fingers resume their slow path along your spine, tracing patterns that feel more like grounding than teasing.

“See?” he hums after a long pause, lips curving against the top of your head. “Much better. And you didn’t even have to buy me dinner first.”

You huff quietly against his chest, shifting enough to glare up at him, though the heat behind it doesn’t land.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Not when you make it this easy,” he replies without hesitation, flashing that trademark grin—the one that somehow manages to be both irritating and devastatingly charming in equal measure.

You bury your face against him with a muffled groan, and Kisuke’s laughter rumbles beneath your ear, quiet but genuine. His hand moves to cup the back of your head, cradling it as though the gesture requires no thought at all.

“You’re dangerous,” you murmur into his shirt, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

“Oh, I know,” Kisuke replies smoothly. “I’ve been told it’s part of my charm.”

You sigh, half-annoyed, half-amused—because of course he’d say that. But his hand hasn’t left your back, and the warmth pooling in your chest tells you that maybe, just maybe, he does know exactly what you need.

After a few moments, you shift slightly. “Will you walk me home?”

Kisuke hums, tilting his head to glance down at you, his eyes half-lidded but alert.

“Walk you home?” he echoes, tapping a finger against his chin as if in deep thought. “Mmm, tempting. But then I’d have to give up this incredibly comfortable spot I’ve secured for myself.”

You lift your head just enough to squint at him. “Kisuke—”

“Or…” he interrupts smoothly, lips curving as his gaze sharpens with that familiar playful glint. “You could stay the night. Much less effort. And far safer for both of us.”

You arch a brow at him. “For both of us?”

Kisuke’s grin widens, shameless. “Oh yes. I’m very fragile, you know. I’d sleep much better with you here to protect me.”

Despite yourself, a quiet chuckle escapes your lips. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” He leans closer, his breath brushing your cheek. “And I promise to behave. Well… mostly.”

His smirk is impossible to resist, but something in his tone—something subtle, beneath the teasing—feels sincere enough to ease whatever lingering vulnerability lingers in your chest.

“…Alright. Thank you.”

Kisuke pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, eyes softening as he presses a light kiss to your forehead.

“No need to thank me, darling,” he murmurs, already tugging the blanket over you both with the finesse of someone who planned this outcome all along. “Now, get comfortable. I expect payment in the form of breakfast tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes, but your body presses closer all the same, the comfort of his presence settling over you like second nature.

“Fine. But I’m not making you anything fancy.”

Kisuke cackles softly, tucking you against him with ease.

“That’s alright,” he replies, lips grazing your temple one last time. “You’re all the sweetness I need.”

another smut with bleach

aizenxuraharaxreader

aizenxreader

a small appreciation for: @apocalypsesushi-chan

60 notes · View notes

bangtan-junkie · 9 hours ago

Text

Dissonance (Part 2) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

Part 1, Part 2

Genre/Tags: coworker!JK, enemies to lovers, smutttttt, slow burn (ish?), ANGST

Word Count: 6799 words

Synopsis:

After being left alone and humiliated on the floor of a dirty bar bathroom by Jungkook, you had to pick yourself up off the ground (literally). You had to get even, embarrass him like he'd done to you. Maybe you were mean to him before, but you were about to become a nightmare to humble this man. Unfortunately for you, your anger was short sighted, while Jungkook's wasn't. So you never predicted how your plans might backfire on you...

Note:

it's finally fucking here omg. ik it's super late but i'm finally decently satisfied with this. i'm looking forward to writing part 3 bc that's where the tension finally breaks and y'all aren't even ready for the revenge y/n gets lol. i hope y'all enjoy this and it lives up to part 1! i'd love to know your thoughts, if you're still pissed with jk lol, and any suggestions or requests are always welcome! chatting with you guys is my fav part <3

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Dread consumed your senses from the moment you woke up. The weekend had passed, but your chest still burned with rage at the thought of having to see Jungkook again. You hadn't even noticed the time go by over the last two days, too busy seething in your own anger. If you hated Jungkook before, you loathed him now. You forced composure as you got dressed for work. Jungkook already had the upper hand when he'd left you in the bar bathroom. He knew that you'd seen him with the girl afterwards too. You couldn't even think about whether he'd went home with her that night without being sick. After all that, the last thing you wanted was for him to think he had any kind of effect on you. You were going to go back to work with pride and confidence. At least you wanted to.

When you finally got to work, you made a beeline for your desk, pointedly not looking for Jungkook. As you settled in, one of your coworkers stopped by your desk.

"Oh hey Y/n, you feeling any better?" he asked. Your head whipped up, a gentle voice ripping you away from your resentful thoughts. You looked up at him in confusion, eyes settling on his red hair. "From Friday? You left early because you weren't feeling well?"

"Oh, right," you cleared your throat. Just then, you saw Jungkook's unmistakable figure from the corner of your eye. He was talking to someone but you could feel his eyes boring into you. Your blood began to boil but you forced yourself to stay calm. You refused to indulge him at all. "I'm feeling much better actually, thanks Jimin," you replied, shooting your coworker a sweet smile. Jimin was your acquaintance in the office; someone you could actually stand in that place. He was always kind and helpful which automatically made him better than 70% of the people there. Even though you hung out in the same circles, you never really became close friends. Probably because you were always more focused on how annoying Jungkook was whenever you were out. And you were doing it again. You made conversation to force any thoughts of him out of your mind.

"How does your hair seem more red every time I see you?" you asked with a light-hearted laugh.

"I can't be caught slacking. I put in a lot of work to keep this hair ya know," he smiled back at you.

"I still don't know how you got permission from the boss for that," you gestured to his hair. "I asked before and she shut me down so fast." Jimin laughed at the annoyed expression on your face, finding it endearing.

"I guess I'm just that charming," he shrugged, holding back a chuckle. You couldn't help but snicker. Jimin's jokes weren't that different from Jungkook's, but he wasn't obnoxious about it. Jungkook obviously believed his jokes and thought he was god's gift to the world, which made him insufferable. Jimin, on the other hand, didn't take his jokes too seriously and wasn't constantly flirting with anything that moved.

Jungkook, who was barely listening to the person talking to him, had heard your exchange with Jimin. He felt annoyance build in his chest. He knew that if he'd made the same joke, you would've been rolling your eyes and making fun of him. So why were you giggling when Jimin said it? He tried to distract himself by trying to focus on the conversation he was supposed to be having.

A quick chat with Jimin later, you turned back to your desk. You made the mistake of looking up and caught Jungkook's gaze. He looked at you, an indifferent look on his face. He wasn't sure what he was expecting; maybe you'd look away in embarrassment, maybe you'd glare at him angrily. But what he didn't expect was the cold, empty look you gave him - like you were looking right through him, like he wasn't even there. His brows furrowed for a quick second, even more annoyed now. You went right back to work.

That's how the next few days went by. Every time Jungkook was remotely in your vicinity, you'd look through him without ever acknowledging him. If he even tried to walk your way, you left the room immediately. At first, Jungkook thought you were just being childish. But when you regained your confidence after a few days, he knew that you weren't through with him just yet. If he thought your insults were bad before, the newfound loathing you had for him made things ten times worse. It started with you amplifying the spite in your voice when you insulted him for his work. You refused to speak with him directly either, so all the insults were being thrown indirectly and in front of your other coworkers. With every second this continued, Jungkook felt his patience running thin. But if you were stubborn, so was he. He kept up your little game by firing back with his usual sarcastic or flirty remarks. Internally, he was burning with fury, just like you wanted him to.

All the animosity and anger eventually came to its boiling point when you crossed the line for the last time. You had walked to your desk that morning to find that your boss had paired you and Jungkook on the next project. Your skin crawled at the idea of having to work with him over the next few weeks. Part of you wondered if Jungkook had something to do with this. Thinking about him getting your boss on board with making you his partner for this big project was only adding to the fire that was spreading through your body. You already hated the way your boss melted around him, but to think that he could manipulate her to this level? After spiraling for a few minutes, you forced yourself to take deep breaths. You had to remind yourself that you were jumping to conclusions and then convince yourself not to march over to Jungkook's desk and give him a piece of your mind. You tried to get back to work, but all you could think about were what reasonable excuses you could make to get out of this situation. The rest of your morning was spent racking your mind. With no luck, you decided to join your coworkers for lunch; hoping that it would give you a distraction.

Unluckily for you, Jungkook walked into the staff lunchroom soon after, only to find you and some of your other coworkers chatting around the coffee machine. Well, they were chatting and you were busy glaring him down from the second he stepped into the room. Your dark eyes peered at him over the rim of your mug as you sipped your coffee. You knew that there was no way in hell he was going to approach you to talk about this. The solution to your problem practically fell into your lap when you zoned back in to the conversation around you. If he really did get the boss to put you on the project with him, you'd make him regret that decision.

"I can't believe you got that huge project Y/n! You're so lucky," one of them said, playfully pouting.

"Talk about lucky," someone else chimed in, "You even get to work with Jungkook. But I guess that isn't so lucky for you." They laughed lightly, poking fun at you. Clearly they hadn't noticed that Jungkook was in the room, listening.

"Everyone here knows how much you hate him, even the boss. Really, what was she thinking pairing you guys up?" They continued to laugh at your misery. But you weren't annoyed. Instead, your mind lit up with the perfect way to get under Jungkook's skin in that moment. The second he saw the way your eyes lit up, he knew he was in for it. Jungkook prided himself on the fact that everyone liked him and thought highly of him. So what better way to get your revenge and get him to kick you off the project than to take that away from him?

"Yeah," you said skeptically, "She's never paired us up before." You continued to stare directly at Jungkook. Your coworkers looked at you with confusion and amusement.

"What changed this time?" Jimin's voice rang through the room as he walked in to join you. He'd already spotted Jungkook in the other corner of the room, and he saw the dark glint in your eyes. It was clear to him that you were up to something. So he helped you out by stirring the pot a little. Jungkook squinted his eyes at you, annoyed at seeing Jimin again and wondering where you were going with this.

"I think Jungkook really wanted this project," you answered. "And it's easy to get whatever you want when you're fucking the boss," you said, not breaking eye contact for a second. Gasps erupted across the circle as they all looked at you in disbelief. Jimin's brows raised and he scoffed, slightly taken aback that you were making that accusation. But you were more focused on Jungkook's reaction. The look on his face was beyond furious. His eyes darkened and you saw the tick in his jaw as he clenched it.

"Wait, you really think so?" one of them asked, everyone already engrossed in the gossip.

"He is a manwhore," you shrugged. Jimin stifled his laugh, not wanting to be too mean to Jungkook. You finally looked away from Jungkook and back at the group. "And he always gets the good projects. Boss doesn't favour anyone else like that." Your coworkers immediately started gossiping amongst themselves, making random connections because what you said made sense. Some of them already started getting riled up, thinking that their opportunities had been snatched by Jungkook through the boss. You obviously didn't know for sure whether Jungkook was sleeping with your boss or not. But you didn't have to. You just had to plant the idea and you knew your coworkers would jump to conclusions.

"You must be really pissed at him," Jimin whispered, leaning back against the counter. You felt Jungkook's eyes glaring daggers at you but you paid him no attention.

"I promise he had it coming," you whispered back, a devious smirk settling on your lips.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," he chuckled. You just shot him a smirk. When you glanced back at Jungkook, you barely caught him walking out the door. You didn't know what you were expecting. Maybe you wanted him to lose his shit in front of everyone, or yank you out of the room with him. So the disappointment you felt only annoyed you more. By the time you finished your lunch and made your way back to your desk, you already began hearing whispers about Jungkook and your boss. For a moment, you wondered if this was crossing the line. Definitely. But so was getting you to blow him and ditching you in that bathroom. Now you're even. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that he must be seething about the rumours.

A couple hours later, you were being called to your boss' office to discuss the new project she'd assigned you and Jungkook. You reluctantly grabbed your things and made your way there. You couldn't keep in your scoff when you saw Jungkook already there, making your boss giggle about god knows what. Your boss cleared her throat as she noticed you in the doorway, peeling herself off her desk from how far she was leaning forward towards Jungkook. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Way to be subtle.

"Y/n," she announced, "Come, sit down." You forced a smile as you sat down in the chair next to Jungkook. He didn't say anything to you, didn't even bother looking at you. Just being in his proximity was pissing you off, especially since he had nothing to say to you. Obviously he couldn't say anything in front of the boss, but you wanted to see that you'd made him just as angry as he'd made you. Maybe all this rage was clouding your mind and judgement...but who cares?

You pulled out your pen and began taking notes as she started talking about the project. Despite hating working with Jungkook, you weren't going to let that ruin your work on this project. You rolled your eyes when you saw that he wasn't taking notes at all. Of course. As your boss began wrapping up the conversation, you gathered your things again, getting up to leave.

"Listen you two," she started, her tone changing. You raised your brows and sat down, curious what she had to say. "I know you don't like working together, but this is an important project. So please, put your feelings aside and work on this together." You scoffed, forgetting to keep your composure. That's when Jungkook finally looked at you. His eyes were fiery but he looked vaguely amused that you had the courage to scoff at the boss. Your boss was also looking at you expectantly, waiting for an explanation. That was all you needed to decide that maybe you weren't even with him just yet.

"Sorry, but it's not about feelings. Our work ethics don't match. I'd rather work on this alone," you said, straightening your back as you felt like you were in the spotlight. Your boss didn't look too happy.

"This isn't a one person project Y/n," she pointed out.

"I know, but it would honestly be easier to do the work myself instead of having to chase him around, begging him to get anything done." The amusement quickly disappeared from Jungkook's face.

"Excuse me?" he finally spoke. You ignored him.

"Maybe we can switch him out for someone who's actually focused on their work instead of flirting," you boldly stated. Your boss scoffed in disbelief.

"What is your problem? Do you think I want to work with you?" Jungkook spat, just about done with your shit. He shifted in his chair to face you, one hand gripping the armrest hard enough to see the whites of his knuckles. Oh now he had something to say.

"You're lucky to be working on this with me. Or else this project would've gone to shit," you retorted with an equal amount of spite.

"There's a reason I'm on this project Y/n. Because I'm good at my job. So if you're letting your personal feelings affect your professionalism, you need to get a grip." His words stung but you refused to accept that there was some truth to them. He was giving you a taste of your own medicine; humiliating you in front of your boss like you were doing to him. All your self control and common sense went out the window when you felt that embarrassment.

"Yeah, that's why you're on this project," you said sarcastically, referring to the rumour you'd started a few short hours ago. You could practically see his nostrils flare as he willed himself to keep his mouth shut.

"You're out of line Y/n," your boss jumped in. She hadn't heard the rumours yet, but she could clearly see that Jungkook didn't like the implications of what you had said. "I don't care whether you two like each other or not. You will put aside...whatever this is...and work together on this, and that's final," she said firmly. Irritation coursed through you, seeing her take Jungkook's side yet again.

"Yes ma'am," you barely grit through your teeth. You'd be darned if you got fired over Jungkook. You quickly stood up and left, rushing to the file room for a moment to cool down. It was the only place you could get some silence - no one ever really stepped into the filing room because most of your work was stored digitally anyways. You pressed your back to one of the metal cabinets, sliding down to crouch as the door slowly shut. You took some deep breaths to calm down. If you went back out there now, you would rip someone's head off. How did Jungkook have the audacity to continue being a dick to you? You knew you'd without a doubt crossed the line back there, but despite that, you didn't feel even with him yet. After a few moments of dragging your mind away from these thoughts, you took one last deep breath and stood back up. You straightened your skirt and fixed your hair. Since you were already there, you decided to grab some files you needed for the project before going back out there. You turned around, pulling a drawer open and digging through the files before you found them. Just as you pulled them out, you heard the door open behind you. You already knew who it was, getting a waft of his cologne. Your heart already began beating faster, not knowing what to anticipate. There was a beat of silence as the door slowly shut.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jungkook grit through his teeth, trying to keep his voice down. You didn't bother turning around or replying to him. Any semblance of self control he had left snapped when you didn't even acknowledge him. With three quick strides, he was right behind you, pressing you face flat against the cabinets. He yanked one of your hands behind your back, making you drop your files. You yelped as his entire body caged you in, slight panic rising in your chest.

"You don't get to ignore me now," he snapped, voice low. "You haven't shut the fuck up for the last few days, don't start now." He yanked your arm down further so he could hold your wrist with one hand. You groaned at the ache, but decided against complaining about it. His anger was palpable; you could practically feel it seeping through your skin, igniting your own fury. In the shock of the moment, you'd almost forgotten that Jungkook wasn't the only one with reason to be upset. This was all a consequence of his insanely disrespectful behaviour, and he had the nerve to be mad at you now?

"What is it? What's got you so fucking riled up, hmm?" He sounded bewildered, gritting the words through his teeth. The more he pressed against you, the harder it got to ignore the heat building in you. An ugly satisfaction was creeping through you seeing the way you'd managed to get under his skin. This was what you wanted; to see that you'd affected him.

"Didn't get enough cock last time? That it?" he growled, bending down next to your ear. His words pierced right through you, as if he knew exactly which buttons to press.

"Fuck you," you spat before you could compose yourself. You strained in his hold, your arm coming up to elbow him in the ribs. To your dismay, Jungkook predicted your move and held you tighter, keeping you still.

"I thought it'd be enough to keep you satiated for at least a week. But you're just a cock hungry whore hm? " he taunted, his lips grazing your ear and sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. "I should've fucked your throat a little harder. Wouldn't be able to lie about me to everyone - including our boss - then, would you?" Despite the bitterness in his voice, your body reacted to his words. Your mind was scolding itself for the rush of arousal that coursed through you. How was he still affecting you like this?

You shook your head clear. No. He wasn't going to have his way this time.

"Lie? I haven't lied about anything," you replied with a snarky tone. Jungkook chuckled in disbelief. He quickly flipped you around so you were forced to face him. You didn't hesitate to meet his ravenous gaze with your own.

"No? So you really think I'm sleeping with the boss?" he asked, tone getting serious. You shrugged nonchalantly, annoying him more.

"You'll fuck anything that moves," you jabbed. "At least fucking the boss has some real benefits unlike the girl from the bar. Maybe she'd even give you a raise if you could satisfy her properly." Jungkook couldn't hide the disgust that flared across his features; insulted that you thought so little of him. The urge to shut you up was growing stronger by the second, burning through his insides. You were going to drive him insane.

"Watch yourself," he warned, the words coming out dark and gravelly. But the surge of excitement that you felt, knowing that you had managed to provoke him, was addicting. You wanted more.

"If it was anyone else, I'd be all for it. Get that bag, you know?" you said with indifference. "But you? I thought the boss had better taste. Her bar must be in hell." That was enough for Jungkook. Before you even had a second to process what was happening, one of his hands was wrapped around your neck. His fingers dug into the flesh, limiting your breath in the most delicious way.

"You didn't seem to think so when you were begging me to touch you - to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom," he growled, stepping closer, face inches from yours.

"Yeah, obviously I expected too much," you sneered. "You don't know how to please anyone but yourself. Boss must be a real masochist to keep going back to you. Poor thing," you tutted, knowing you'd practically nailed the head in your own coffin before you'd even finished your thought. Jungkook's face contorted in a snarl as his grip tightened around your throat. You gasped, the dark swirl in your core intensifying.

"Maybe I should talk to her," you patronized, chasing the high from pissing him off. "I can recommend someone who can actually make her feel good - get her off. A man. Not a selfish boy," you emphasized. "Think she'll like me better than you after that?" With that, his other hand was pressed firmly against your mouth, effectively shutting you up. You grunted at the sheer pressure of his hold, now struggling to breathe.

"You just don't shut up, do you?" he spat. The look in his eyes was nearly feral; like he was going to eat you alive. His ego took a hit to your words, even though he knew you didn't actually believe everything you'd said. Still, you seemed to be stuck on his 'selfishness'. It infuriated him that you didn't understand why he wasn't giving you what you wanted, but he'd had enough of you running your mouth. If you'd forgotten how easily he made you melt under his touch, he'd just have to remind you. And make sure you never forgot again.

With each passing second of silent seething, you thought he might actually choke you out. But then he let go of you. You gasped for air, coughing as you caught your breath. Just as you were about to shoot him the dirtiest look you could muster, Jungkook sank to his knees. The snarky remark on your tongue vanished as you watched him kneel in front of you, looking up at you with a carnivorous gaze. Lust consumed your senses as he wordlessly loosened his tie, tugging at the collar of his shirt. You'd think that seeing him on his knees would make you feel more powerful in the situation. But the hunger in his eyes made it clear that he was still very much in control.

Simply put: Jungkook, in a suit and on his knees, was enough to wipe away your last bit of common sense.

"This is what you want, right?" he asked, his hands slipping under your skirt. You felt paralyzed, your breath caught in your throat. His hands moved up your thighs, slowly dragging your skirt up with them. "You wanna cum, yeah?" You were genuinely struggling to form any thoughts, your senses heightened.

"Want me to make you cum?" A strangled groan bubbled in your throat at his tone. He'd barely done a thing and your breathing was already heavy. So much for your resolve. As your skirt bunched above your hips, you suddenly became hyper aware of your situation. You were still at work, in a file room, door unlocked.

"Someone could walk in," you gasped, trying to convince yourself that you didn't want this. He ignored you, trailing his fingers down your hips and legs instead. "We've already been gone for a while. What if someone comes looking?" You desperately tried to focus your wandering mind.

"I guess I should hurry then," he sneered, shooting you a glare. Then his fingers were sliding between your legs, making you close your eyes and sigh as they eased the ache in your clit. By that point you were too far gone to even feel embarrassed about having soaked through your panties. Jungkook hissed as your slick coated his digits. "I put the bar in hell, but still, you get so wet for me," he snapped, adding more pressure. For the first time all day, you had nothing to quip back with. Your sweet silence was like music to his ears. Mindful of the time, Jungkook hooked his fingers in your underwear and pulled them down your legs. You knew there was no going back as you stepped out of them. Your knees felt weak as you watched him hastily shove them in his pocket. But before you could ask what he was planning on doing with them, he hooked a hand under your thigh, lifting your leg up and to the side. With your legs spread and your pussy staring him in the face, Jungkook was struggling to control himself. He wanted to tease you - make you beg and plead - but he didn't. Fuck. He couldn't; not when he felt like he'd lose his sanity if he didn't taste you right away.

Without wasting another second, his lips were pressed to you, the velvety heat of his mouth engulfing you as his tongue licked at your wetness. Your mouth was left agape as your hands buried into his hair, using the locks to keep yourself tethered. Jungkook groaned into your heat; he felt like he was getting drunk off of you. His fingers dug into your thighs as he hungrily lapped at your pussy. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a drawn out moan as his lips wrapped around your clit, creating the perfect amount of suction. You would've thought he was starved seeing the vigor with which he ate you out. He didn't stop, didn't pull away for a single breath - too consumed with the taste of you on his tongue. You were embarrassingly close already, struggling to contain your moans and whimpers. You bit your lip, trying to hold them in, but another particular harsh lick to your clit had you groaning Jungkook's name. Seeing you unravel so quickly only fueled Jungkook's appetite; the sound of his name on your lips going straight to his aching cock. All it took was him groaning into your cunt after that to send you over the edge. Your fingers yanked at his hair, desperately pulling him closer as you felt the white heat build up.

"Jungkook, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cursed, voice whiny as you tried to keep quiet. "Gonna cum," you moaned right as you crashed over the edge. Jungkook felt you tense in his hold as you came on his tongue. He diligently lapped at your slit, sure to pay attention to your clit as well to help you ride out your orgasm. He slowed down as you came down from your high. Naturally, your legs tried to close together once his tongue became overstimulating. But Jungkook's hold was firm, keeping your legs apart. You tried to catch your breath, mind reeling from the mix of pleasure and pain flooding your senses.

"Jungkook... wait," is all you managed to get out. He ignored you again, picking up his pace despite your cringing.

"So fucking good," he growled against you, like he hated admitting it to himself. It felt weird hearing him compliment you after all the bickering and degrading earlier. Yet you couldn't deny that it boosted your ego seeing him so fucked out and angry. He pushed you further up against the cabinets, giving himself better access to you and delving his tongue into your dripping hole. And just like that, the sensitivity was replaced with a delicious pleasure once again.

"Please, wait..." you breathlessly pleaded. In contrast to the last orgasm, he was building this one up slowly. Unfortunately for you, that meant it felt twice as intense and you were getting increasingly worried about being caught.

"Thought you wanted to cum, sweetheart," he mocked. "That's why you're being such a bitch, right? Mad that I didn't make you cum last time?" he grit through his teeth. You cursed him under your breath, but were more focused on the feeling of his soft lips against. You finally looked down at him properly, ready to glare at him. But the second you saw his dark eyes staring up at you, the rest of his face buried between your legs, you lost your train of thought entirely. Then you saw his hand sprawled across your lower stomach while his thumb rubbed circles into your clit. Fuck, why was he so hot?

"What if we get caught?" you half-heartedly complained, trying to muffle your whimpers.

"They'll see what a fucking slut you are for me then," he grunted. You slapped a hand over your mouth when he picked up his pace, continuing to plunge his tongue in and out of you. "Keep your hands down," he demanded, pressing harder on your clit. "You're gonna keep moaning like that for me," he hissed, delving right back into the heat of your cunt. In that moment, all you heard was his demanding tone and your hands instinctively went back to his hair without a second thought. You whined, trying to keep your voice down as he slowly built up your pleasure.

"Good," he praised, his words muffled as he continued to eat you out. "I should make you scream, so that everyone knows that you, Y/n, are cumming on my tongue." His words were bitter but they turned you on more. You clearly had some problems. It didn't take very long after that to feel that white heat building up again. Jungkook could tell you were almost there, so he sped up the pace of his fingers and plunged his tongue deeper into you. "Including our boss," he rasped. And then you were cumming again; gripping tightly onto his hair and groaning his name once more.

"There you go," he coaxed, letting you ride his face. You hadn't realized, but at some point, your hips had started moving on their own. Seeing you with your eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open, as you unraveled under his touch, only fueled Jungkook's hunger. When you started coming down, he finally pulled away; giving you a second of reprieve. That was until you looked down to see his blown out, dark eyes staring at you. His mouth and chin were covered in your juices and he looked ravenous. He quickly pulled off his suit jacket, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt, eyes never leaving yours. Your chest heaved; partly because you were still catching your breath, and partly because of how fucking hot Jungkook looked in the moment. His hands went right back to your thighs, pulling them apart once more.

"Wait, what're you doing?!" you asked, eyes going wide. "I can't cum again, please," you nearly cried. His fingers dug into your thighs as he watched you plead.

"You can and you will," he said firmly. "You know why?" He slid his fingers between your folds, gathering all the wetness that had pooled. "Because you fucking love my touch," he growled. Your already weak knees felt even weaker.

"You're so desperate for it; for my mouth, my fingers, my cock." Your legs threatened to buckle under you if it weren't for Jungkook's hand holding you up. "So desperate that you're being such a fucking brat," he spat. "Trying to piss me off. So, what? So that I'd finally touch you again?" he mocked. Your senses were overwhelmed and his words settled in a pit in your stomach. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes; whether it was because of his harsh words or the overstimulation of his fingers, you weren't sure. Just as you were about to retort, Jungkook slipped a slender finger into you which slid in smoothly with how wet you were. He let out a throaty groan, quickly slipping another finger into you and curling them upwards. You nearly doubled over as he pressed right into your g-spot.

"See how tuned your body is to me? I've barely done a thing and you're already a mess," he taunted. Seeing how flimsy your legs had gotten, he quickly threw the leg he was holding over his shoulder, getting even closer to you. His name left your lips in a whine, your body torn between pleasure and worry. "Well here, I'm giving you what you want." He punctuated his words by curling his fingers again, making you moan. "You wanna cum? I'll make you cum...over and over again, so you never forget how good I make you feel." And with that, he finally pulled his fingers out before slamming them back into you, setting a hard pace.

Your mind was left blank, so consumed with pleasure that you couldn't even think about staying quiet. Whimpers and moans shamelessly tumbled out of you as he filled you up so delightfully. Jungkook wasn't unaffected either. Feeling how warm and wet you were was driving him up the wall, numbing his own thoughts.

"So wet for me, fuck. My cock would slide right into you with how drenched you are," he thought out loud. He felt you tighten around his fingers, making him snarl and pick up his pace. "Filthy fucking cockslut. I can't wait to feel you tighten around me like that when I'm fucking all this brattiness out of you," he growled, voice low. You could only moan in response.

"Jungkook, s-slow down, please," you begged, knowing that you wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. Before you knew it, his free hand came down on your pussy, leaving a delicious sting spreading through you. A half yelp-half moan sound came out of you, making Jungkook scoff.

"You're gonna take what I give you, like a good little slut," he grunted. "What do you have to say now Y/n?" he asked, annoyance lacing his voice. "You're so convinced I'm fucking every woman and leaving them unsatisfied. Do you feel satisfied yet?" With his fingers pumping you, grazing your g-spot with every thrust, it was nearly impossible for you to form a coherent thought. When you didn't answer, he gave your pussy another smack, making you hiss.

"Answer me," he demanded, "How do you feel now Y/n?"

"F-feel good," is all you could come up with. Jungkook chuckled at your fucked out state.

"Who's making you feel good sweetheart?"

"You," you moaned, feeling yourself reach your climax again. "Oh my god. Jungkook, please...don't stop. Feels so good, I'm gonna-"

Jungkook's ego inflated as you finally found your words again, saying exactly what he wanted to hear. Hearing you beg for him almost made up for all the shit you'd put him through that day. Almost. You were creaming on his fingers before you could even finish your sentence, moaning his name way louder than you should.

"Now you're finally being a good girl," he praised, continuing to pump his fingers through your orgasm. "Fuck, you're getting so tight. Keep cumming on my fingers like that, yeah?" he groaned, imagining how good you would feel on his cock. Your orgasm was so powerful, you were cumming for what felt like an eternity. Jungkook didn't mind; continuing to work you through it. When it was finally over, your legs gave out. Jungkook quickly caught you as you collapsed, and he placed you down on his discarded jacket on the floor. You closed your eyes and waited for your heart rate to go back to normal. When you opened your eyes after a few moments, Jungkook was still kneeling in front of you. His gaze was trained on your still exposed cunt and he had slipped his soaked fingers into his mouth, tasting you all over again. You worried for second that he still wasn't done with you. He slowly dragged his glazed over eyes to meet your. You gulped at the voracious look on his face, your legs instinctively closing.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was battling with his own insatiable thoughts. He knew he couldn't forget about this, about you, about your pussy after this. As infuriating and insufferable you were, he couldn't deny how good you tasted and felt. And he sure as hell couldn't deny how hard you'd gotten him either. With his hormones surging through him, all he could think about was being inside you, in any way. He saw the look on your face and nearly scoffed. You fucked up his reputation and humiliated him all because you wanted to cum, and now you couldn't take it. He took a deep breath, forcing his thoughts away so he could be rational.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna make you cum again," he said. You scoffed, easing up a little with his reassurance. "You got what you wanted, right? Now maybe you'll keep your mouth shut." The high of your pleasure was wearing off and the weight of his words were hitting you. Did he really just think you were desperate for him? Had he forgotten how he was shamelessly flirting with that other girl right after leaving you in that bathroom? Reality finally caught up with you, and you realized how vulnerable you'd made yourself to him. If someone came in right now, the only person who'd be humiliated was you. Clearly, all of this was just a game to him; a way to shut you up. Jungkook was toying with you and you were letting him. A similar shame and hurt creeped across your skin as the night he'd left you in the bar bathroom. Part of you had started to feel bad about what you'd done earlier, but if Jungkook really was just using you, then you were still nowhere near even.

Without saying a word, you stood up, pulling your skirt back down. In the process, you remembered that he'd taken your underwear. But you'd have to talk to him to ask for them back, and the last thing you wanted to do was talk to him. You'd just have to clean up later and make it through the day without them. You straightened your clothes, trying to make them look as less wrinkly as possible, avoiding Jungkook's piercing gaze. When you finally felt like you looked presentable, that's when you looked at him. This time it was him that was left a mess. His hair was ruined by all the grabbing and pulling you'd done, and his collar was soaked with your juices. You looked at his jacket that you were not standing on, and sure enough, you'd left a wet spot and now heel marks on it too. It made you feel a little better, knowing that this time he'd have to fix himself up instead of you. You picked up his jacket with the toe of your shoe before kicking it over to him. You shot him a cold look.

"You're an asshole," you stated before walking out the door. Jungkook was left on the floor, even more frustrated. He'd felt more gratified after putting you in your place, but then what was that? You'd obviously enjoyed yourself, so what was the problem now? He groaned loudly. Despite his anger, the bulge in his pants was now aching. Everything about you was infuriating to him, so how did you have this much of an affect on him? His mind wandered back to how you felt in his hands and on his tongue. He growled as he palmed his crotch, slowly taking out his hard cock. He stroked himself harshly with the frustration you'd left him with. He quickly pulled out your panties from his pocket, unable to stop himself. His head rolled back and your name spilled past his lips along with low groans as he brought up the thin fabric to his face.

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Tag List: @myjungkookthighs @bemuas @junecat18 @exortedgoods @jahnaviii @jk97bam @itsmekylabear @blueberriesm @marvelbun @vantelover1306 @runariya @btstrology @diame93 @curse-of-art @minyoongi7016

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ennabear · 9 hours ago

Text

✴︎ —PAINT THE AGES A HUNDRED SHADES OF GOLD ⊹₊⟡⋆

I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT LOVE ANYMORE ‘CAUSE IT’S GETTING TOO MUCH FOR ME …

cw: councilor!sevika x painter!mel, sevika is a lil sad and mean but she gets over it, sevika is also kind of a loser who can’t stop talking when she gets drunk, jinx and isha mentions because i’m evil and we know this, mel paints sevika nude, body worship, lots of comfort, oral sex, 18+

word count: 7.3k

it’s been months since sevika’s big move, and she fucking hates it to say the least.

all of these pilties are stuck up, even more than she remembers. which is a lot. she’s exhausted, she questions why she’s even a part of the council if all they do is ignore her. showing up every day and listening to them talk about her home and her people the way they do makes her sick.

they draft plans to raid the markets, shutting down anyone who isn’t licensed to be selling meat or rice or bread, but they refuse to let anyone get a license to sell those things. of course, she’s glad that she gets to eat three meals a day now, but with every bite she takes, she’s reminded of her home, and how starving they must be over there.

no matter how much she fights back, offers up a real plan that could make peace between the rivaling nations, they all just snicker and point fingers at her like she’s some sort of circus act.

and don’t ask her about how much she likes being called councilor sevika, because she doesn’t like it at all. she’s not a councilor, and maybe that’s a good thing, because it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna be.

still, she keeps her emotions under control. this is a huge opportunity to help get zaun on it’s feet and cut ties with piltover officially, she won’t spoil it by making a scene and giving up. no matter what, she’s gonna make an effort, even if it means being locked in a room with a group of rich pigs who’ve never felt that growing pit of hunger in their stomachs that make them so dizzy that they keel over on the streets.

that they die on the streets.

so yeah, it’s not easy, not even a little bit.

most of her nights are spent alone in her room. it’s nice, “small” compared to the rooms everyone else occupies, but still bigger than any house she’s ever seen in the undercity. it has large windows that let every bit of light in, but it’s still eerily dark at night compared to zaun.

in zaun, there are neon lights and buzzing street lamps that glow and flicker at every hour, so when it gets dark, the colorful lights bounce off of every inch of the city. you can see them in the reflections of the puddles, bright streaks of light flying up into the night from behind buildings and stretching until they’re out of sight.

here, in piltover, they have different kinds of lights. tiny, white holes in the sky called stars that shine when it gets dark. they have spotlights and statues and lanterns, but it gets lonely at night. everyone is at home, distancing from their friends and their jobs, getting sleep and resting up for whatever the next day will bring.

there isn’t really any rest in zaun, just a small wink of sleep whenever you catch it, and you’re up again. everyone’s grouchy and hungry and cold, but it makes for good shimmer sales, and the bar is a great place to find refuge when you need a break from it all.

so sevika sleeps with all of her lights on. an attempt to remind her of home— although her home doesn’t have a queen sized bed, fluffy pillows and soft blankets, lamps, alarm clocks, fireplaces, clean water on their nightstands, and stars that shine through their windows.

the stars might be her favorite part about piltover. probably the only good thing about piltover. she doesn’t really know what they are or what they do, but they’re nice to look at late at night when she can’t manage to sleep.

every time she finds herself staring up at them, she sends a prayer or two up to janna. always one for the people, a prayer that even though they pretend to hate each other, and there sure are a few goons who are ready to slit her throat for never paying them back, she hopes they’re okay.

she hopes that ran and theiram have got the bar under control, that vi and ekko manage to keep the chaos limited, and most of all, that jinx and isha are doing alright.

ever since silco died, her whole world was flipped upside down and shaken vigorously. who knew that someday she’d be missing jinx? but she does. she cries at night for the blue haired girl, praying for her safety and her happiness, hoping that she’s managed to keep some of her creativity after everything that went down.

and of course for the more tolerable blue haired kid, isha.

she prays that isha is still attached at the hip to jinx, that her fluffy hair gets dyed that awful bright blue color as often as she wants it to, that she’s found some way to communicate with the world while her voice is at rest.

she’s got no clue as to where they could be. one second, she’s wishing jinx would leave her alone. that she’d pack up her inventions and make a home for them far away from sevika’s life. the next second, they’re gone. no warning, no heads up whatsoever, just completely taken from her life.

but if she wishes to find any wisp of happiness, she’s gonna have to push these thoughts to the back of her mind, only letting them front when she’s alone and awake and accompanied by the stars. they’re the only things who understand her.

——

if you listen closely, you might be able to hear the sound of mel’s thoughts buzzing around in her mind.

the past few months have given her some intense whiplash, but things are finally starting to straighten out. her life isn’t exactly normal, but she’s growing used to her… new self.

she spends most of her time perched at her easel, painting the canvas in beautiful colors that fall over various people or places. it’s therapeutic for her, whatever image or question or anger she has lingering in her head, she can work it out with the paints. when she’s done, she lines them up in front of her.

it helps her see things more clearly, like a thought that can’t float away, frozen in time for her to analyze further. some of them are just plain colors. gold, with white, yellow, and bronze streaks, an attempt to recreate the swirls that are painted on her own body.

sometimes she paints her mother, her eyebrows lowered in a scowl and her silvery gray hair crowning her head. jayce and viktor occasionally make an appearance, both of their faces lost in thought as they stare at various equations and formulas that she can’t quite make out.

sometimes she just sees miscellaneous things, quick visions that she needs to bring to life. countless canvases are covered in black, with that dark red fog reaching into it like vines. there’s also the hextech that makes the occasional appearance, but she can’t quite get that bright, rich blue color right.

a few times before, she’s attempted portraits, but she doesn’t prefer them. lest has been one of her closest friends during all of this, she can sit and pose for hours while mel works away at her figure on the canvas. they��ve also tried painting together, but mel prefers her alone time.

she’s tried recreating the pictures from her memory, but it never comes out as well. she covers the canvas in thick paint, a bronze, brown, and white, making up jayce’s features. but she always clouds his face with shiny white webs, and those glistening, rainbow stars. the ones that stole him away.

while she sits, her body stays stagnant, eyes racing around the blank canvas. she mixes the colors in her head before she even opens the tubes, her eyes proportion it all for her, so she rarely makes sketches anymore.

recently, she’s been more interested in staying in and shutting out the world. the occasional knock rings out against her door, but she can’t be bothered to investigate. she doesn’t wanna give her opinions anymore, doesn’t wanna lead all of topside to peace and gas the streets of the undercity. really, she never signed up for that. sure, she’s ambessa’s daughter, but she doesn’t care to be a leader anymore. not when all it does is get people hurt and killed.

but apparently it’s urgent this time, because the knocking persists.

“um, mel?” a timid voice asks. “i hate to bother you, but the council requires yo—”

she flings the door open, clad in her white robe and slippers. her hood hangs halfway over her head as she glares at the man, but he insists on escorting her to the council meeting. her feet gently pad against the floor as she walks through the long halls, already dreading having to play referee for a group of adults who should know better.

but ambessa is gone now, and these people need someone to give them any sort of direction.

the dome shaped room welcomes her, and although she dreads being there, the sun shining through the stained glass is gorgeous. she spies a few familiar faces sitting in their respective seats, and notices some new ones who were added after the war.

“but they need the money!” one councilor booms, one of the newer ones who mel doesn’t quite recognize yet. “you can’t just cut their funds and raise the tax prices, they—”

“councilor sevika, please.” someone says, talking over her voice. “what possibly could they need more money for? our city needs to be rebuilt, and it’s them who’s caused all of this destruction.”

mel observes quietly, noticing the tears that fill sevika’s eyes. she makes an assumption that they’re either out of sadness, anger, or exhaustion, but she can’t quite tell. one thing she does know, though, is that it isn’t fair.

it’s not fair to just drag a zaunite up to topside and force her to be the only one representing her nation. especially when she has to be locked in a room full of people who hate her, who think she’s nothing more than just undercity trash to mock and make fun of.

mel’s surprised that sevika has held her ground for this long. if that were her, she’d want to pack up and leave within a day, especially when she notices the snorts and sideways glances that she gets every time she opens her mouth.

“have you even been down there?” sevika asks. “have you seen the bodies lying on the streets? have you heard the sobs of the starving children?”

they all look at her, unable to imagine what hunger even is, much less an entire nation overcome by it. shoola offers a sympathetic frown, but it’s not enough for sevika. she’s exhausted, and the thought of seeing her home even more impoverished is killing her. worst of all, word on the street is that zaunites are beginning to call her a traitor.

she wishes that they could see how hard she’s working, how much she’s fighting for them behind the scenes. but she can’t exactly blame them, it must be hard to watch every leader they’ve ever had either fail at leading them to sovereignty or turn their backs on the people. must be worse to watch someone who they thought was on their side disappear into the council and watch as things just keep getting worse and worse down there.

and this makes sevika feel horrible.

it’s hard for her not to blame herself for this, especially because that’s what she’s used to. her job for years was to be silco’s right hand, so it was constantly her fault if something went wrong. that’s just how things are. if things don’t go her way, it must be her fault for not working harder to overcome it.

“i agree.” mel says plainly. “councilor sevika has firsthand knowledge of what it’s like for them, why shouldn’t we trust her?”

sevika is taken aback at this. she’s never seen someone so… rich looking… be this understanding toward her. but although it’s the bare minimum, she appreciates it. she’ll take whatever form of kindness she can get right now.

the other councilors stare at mel like she’s just grown three heads. obviously, they’ve never been told no a day in their life. sevika is glad that she gets to be present for the first time. some of them sputter and growl, some of them roll their eyes, but sevika just sinks back into her chair and decides to let them argue it out.

“i agree too.” councilor shoola says. “it’s only fair… unless, any of you would like to go down there and experience it for yourselves? then you could tell us all about their excess of funds.”

sevika sighs in relief, thanking janna or the universe or whatever god decided to help her out. she can’t exactly smile, at least not yet, but she manages a tiny grin, and decides that maybe she shouldn’t feel too bad about herself just yet.

mel is glad that sevika and shoola have at least a little bit of brains, but she’s starting to rethink having all of the others on the council. maybe they need to fire some, or at least add some more zaunites to level the playing field. although, she now knows that sevika can put up one hell of a fight, so maybe she doesn’t need it.

but the clock strikes two in the afternoon, and the councilors file out to get on with their day until they meet again tomorrow. sevika hangs back, waiting for everyone to leave before she returns to her office. but mel hangs back too, determined to talk to sevika more, to get to know her.

sevika pulls her cape over her shoulders, completely covering her figure before she exits the room. mel perks up and shoots her a questioning look.

“yes?” sevika asks.

“you’re brave.” mel says.

“no i’m not. d’you think it’s brave of me to leave my people starving and helpless down there while i have a real home and three meals a day?”

mel just stares blankly at her. that isn’t what she meant at all, but at the same time, she’s completely right. as much as she still believes that sevika is brave for putting up with the councilors, she should be calling everyone else brave, everyone in zaun who goes days without food. sevika is the luckiest of them all.

“that’s not what i meant.” mel explains. “i meant that you’re better than them because you stand your ground instead of just getting everything you want. you work hard for what you earn.”

sevika shrugs. “i guess you could say that.”

“do you miss it down there?”

“what do you think?” sevika grunts.

“i’d bet that you do, you just try not to show it in front of anyone.”

“yes, because showing weakness gets you killed.”

“not up here, it doesn’t. you should open up a little, it might be good for you.” mel suggests.

“i’ll pass.”

“i could help you.”

“i don’t need—”

“let me help you.” mel says, reaching out to grab sevika’s hand.

“help me how?” sevika asks.

“open up to me. tell me about your life. friends, family, past, anything.”

“okay… maybe.”

“okay, good.”

——

sevika has never been great at opening up to anyone, but mel is… understanding. as much as she hates to talk about her struggles to other people, mel is probably the best possible person to talk to. mel marched herself down sevika’s hall to her door, banging on it until sevika sleepily presented herself. she marched sevika down the hall and through the building until they reached her own suite, and she fed sevika more and more wine until she started to talk to her.

it started with just a confession. sevika was wine drunk and admitted that yes, she did miss her home, and that she hated topside. and then mel pressed for more, made her tell her specifically who she missed and what she missed about them.

the list of people who she missed was never ending. at the top— jinx and isha. in all honesty, mel is shocked to learn that sevika had anyone that she really considered family, much less a daughter or a niece. but sevika tells her all about them, how isha would beg to paint her nails or dye her hair, and how jinx finally had a sister who she could play with, instead of just being too young to do anything.

but when mel asks where they’ve gone, sevika freezes. she doesn’t know, and it’s not something she prefers to think about. dead is something she’d heavily considered, but that ending makes her too sad. as long as she doesn’t know that they’re dead, they’re not. at least not in her world.

she tells mel that she hopes they’re somewhere safe, somewhere that they can have fun together. like floating on a cloud, or living in outer space with the stars. maybe they are with the stars, and that’s why she loves them so much.

“you like the stars?” mel asks.

“that’s the only thing actually worth liking about this place, i think…” sevika slurs drunkenly.

“hmm, i guess they are pretty, aren’t they.” mel ponders.

“yeah and there are so many of them, and it’s like every time you see them you’re seeing a completely different sky. and they’re cool because they only come out at night when they think nobody can see them, it’s like they’re shy. but i always see them because i’m always awake with them.” she rambles.

mel can’t help but giggle. again, everything she said is exactly right, but she’s never seen it that way. sevika offers her a fresh new perspective, one that makes her ponder how much she knows about the world.

“sorry…” sevika whispers, suddenly aware that she’s drunkenly blabbering and probably making a fool of herself. she tries to blink herself sober but it doesn’t work.

“no worries. i like them too.” mel soothes.

“i think i should go.”

“already?” mel asks.

“it’s gett’n late. i have places to be tomorrow…” sevika sighs. mel stands and walks her to the door, grabbing on gently to her human arm in an attempt to stabilize the woman. she offers a sweet smile to sevika as she leaves, even takes her hand in her own for a second and squeezes it tightly, but sevika just stares at the floor.

“mel?” she asks finally, although in a timid voice.

“yes?”

“thanks for sticking up for me. i don’t know what those pigs would get up to without people like me and you.”

mel’s heart warms at this. sevika is so drunk that she’s starting to get sappy and sweet, and while it’s adorable, it’s clear that she needs to get home. but she’s glad that her effort isn’t going unnoticed, and she’s starting to really like sevika.

“of course.” she smiles again. “get some sleep for me, okay? don’t spend too much time with the stars.”

sevika curses herself for the warm feeling that wraps herself all around her, she hates that she’s being vulnerable and making friends. she just blames the feeling on the alcohol, but she knows that it’s not. because that light, warm feeling clings itself to her every time she sees mel.

it happens again when they coincidentally cross paths, mel on her way outside for some fresh air and sevika on her way to her room to sign papers until her fingers bleed. but she realizes for the first time that mel is so beautiful. she hasn’t spotted sevika yet, but the sunlight glowing in from the windows catches her golden streaked skin perfectly, and she’s shining. it’s like she’s a real life star, and sevika can’t peel her eyes away.

“oh, hi sevika.” mel grins.

“um… hi.” she responds, her heart suddenly beating faster than usual. “where are you going?”

“just outside. been cramped up inside all day and the smell of my paints are starting to give me a headache.”

“you paint?” sevika asks, although to anyone else the answer would be obvious.

“yeah, all the time. i’d love to show you someday.” she offers, already knowing that she’s gonna have to drag sevika by the arm and force her to visit.

“okay… yeah, that would be nice.” she says.

“what are you doing right now?” mel asks.

“i just have a lot of paperwork to fill out, letters to write, things to sign, you know how it is.”

“will you stop by later, then?”

“are you gonna make me?”

“probably. if you don’t show up by yourself.”

“alright, see you later then.”

——

sevika is dreading this outing. the more times she thinks about going back over to mel’s, the more anxious she gets. every time she’s been over there the past month, she’s ended up either drunk or blabbering on about stuff that doesn’t matter. or worse— drunk and blabbering. she always finds some way to make a fool of herself, and she doesn’t know how to stop. she just wishes it wasn’t so easy to open up to her, wishes that mel wasn’t so damn likable.

mel already knows she’s gonna have to drag sevika over to come look at her paintings. she always does. no matter how many times she tells the woman to come on her own terms, she finds herself stomping down to sevika’s door and forcing her to hang out. it’s cute, in mel’s mind, it’s like a date. so that’s what she finds herself doing tonight. cleaning up her suite a little, spinning one of her jazz records, and marching down to collect sevika.

she’s arranged her paintings in no particular order, but the array is beautiful. some are framed, some are smaller than others, some of them aren’t even finished. sevika feels so moved by this. she’s never seen anything so beautiful. not anything in real life, not mel herself, not even the stars are as beautiful as her paintings.

mel sits her down on the loveseat, pouring two glasses of wine and sitting down next to sevika, but sevika begs her to talk about her paintings. she’s dying to know how anyone could make anything look more beautiful than the stars. mel blushes at that compliment— it’s a lot coming from sevika for multiple reasons— but she decides that now it’s her turn to open up.

they sit an chat for hours, and before long, sevika feels as if she knows mel like the back of her hand. she now knows about jayce and viktor and what happened to them, about ambessa, her mother, the noxians, and the rest of her family. sevika’s oddly surprised. of course, she’s aware that mel is probably the strongest woman she knows, but she never would’ve guessed that she’s been through that much.

mel cries a bit, and sevika cries too, and they laugh about their emotions like old friends. for once in her life, sevika feels like maybe not everything sucks, and that maybe it’s okay to let herself fall for someone. she just hopes that mel feels the same way.

“sevika?” mel asks, still catching her breath after a fit of giggles.

“yeah?” she smiles.

“will you dance with me?”

“i don’t dance.” sevika says, laughing at the image of her dancing with someone. how silly.

“aww, come on! it’s just us and some jazz! you’ll be fine.” she reasons. “please?”

sevika rolls her eyes at mel’s outstretched hand, but she’s very tipsy and in a good mood, so how could she say no to the beautiful woman standing in front of her?

mel yanks her up by her arm, and sevika wastes no time following after her to the middle of the room where the big sky lights let the stars shine in. sevika scowls and tenses up a bit, but mel wraps her arms around sevika’s waist so gently, guiding sevika’s arm to press against her back. mel sways them back and forth a bit, and sevika soon loosens up and stares down at mel with a smile that puts all of the stars to shame.

“do you ever miss your arm?” mel asks.

“yeah, sometimes. i miss the one jinx made for me, i wish i didn’t take it for granted.” she responds, her mood quickly turning sad against her will.

“i could have one made for you.” mel offers.

sevika shakes her head and flattens her lips into a straight line. “they won’t let me have one on the council.”

it’s mel’s turn to roll her eyes now. “no, i’ll make you one that they’ll accept. they always listen to me, you know.” she grins.

“i guess that would be alright, as long as it’s not much of a hassle.”

“for you? nothing’s a hassle. don’t be silly.”

sevika’s eyebrows pull together in the middle and she pouts, tears quickly filling her eyes. nobody’s ever been this nice to her before. offering her a new limb, protection from the ruthless comments from the council, good wine, and a dance underneath the stars. she can’t help but cry, but she’s not afraid to anymore. with mel, she feels safe enough to be this vulnerable.

mel notices her sad expression, and she silently prays that she didn’t accidentally offend sevika, it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna do. “oh, what’s wrong? did i—”

sevika cuts her off with a kiss. she doesn’t wanna hear any apologies from mel, not after she’s been a literal angel to sevika this past week. mel’s lips are warm and welcoming, they taste sweet, like if gold was a flavor. she reaches her hands up and cradles the back of mel’s head, deepening the kiss.

mel is completely taken aback by this. she didn’t know that sevika had feelings for her. actually, she thought that sevika was sick of her. but she kisses sevika back, her lips are big and pouty and oh so soft. she also gets to feel sevika’s piercing up close, and the cold metal drags against the bottom of her lips ever so slightly. it’s a stark contrast, but a comforting one at that.

one thing leads to another, and they’re quickly back on the loveseat, lapping at each others tongues and giggling like kids and holding hands. sevika’s had tons of sex before, sure, but nothing comes close to this. she feels so special, so cared for, that she notices this strange, giddy feeling bubbling up in her chest.

little does she know, that feeling is called love.

she pins mel down to the seat, both of them breathless and high on this mysterious feeling— although it definitely has something to do with the liquor— and sevika almost cries again when mel spreads her legs beneath her white gown. the warm lamplight mixed with the starlight causes her to glow again, like she’s on fire, so sevika can’t help but kiss all over the gold patterns that paint her skin.

mel erupts into another fit of giggles, holding sevika’s shocked face in her hands. sevika tenses up slightly at her touch, but takes a deep breath and swallows all of her anxiety.

“can i?” sevika asks.

mel smiles and nods. “of course. you can do whatever you want to me.”

sevika shudders and reaches up mel’s dress, caressing her stomach and hips. mel is soft and malleable under her touch, and she’s golden. she reaches forward to tug her dress above her hips. sevika doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a beautiful sight, and mel absolutely adores sevika’s awestruck face.

the same golden markings that paint her face also trail down her abdomen, all the way to her ankles. there are thick streaks of gold that mirror each other on each side of her torso, twisting themselves into swirls and shapes. she also has small golden freckles littering her body, identical to the ones on her face. they look like stars.

best of all, as if sevika wasn’t already turned on enough, she has small, golden hairs that trail down from just beneath her belly button, only stopping when they crown her dripping hole. this woman is made of pure magic, and if sevika doesn’t get her mouth on her within the next millisecond, she thinks she might faint.

mel grabs sevika’s hand when she notices her hesitation, and this makes her snap back into the moment and start eating mel out. she starts slow, just some teasing, soft licks to her clit that make her shiver. mel moans so sweetly and beautifully and sevika feels like she’s floating.

sevika grips mel’s hand harder and harder as she keeps eating her out, and it’s times like these that she wishes she has two hands. one to hold mel’s with, and one to feel inside of her, pumping her full of her thick fingers. mel arches her back and thrusts up into sevika’s face, and they both nearly cum on the spot.

she pulls back for a second, a string of white slick connecting itself to sevika’s lips before dripping down her chin.

“sev, you’re doing so good, baby.” mel praises. “don’t stop, i’m so close.”

sevika speeds up her movements, determined to make mel cum. her big, silver eyes squeeze shut as her mouth works it’s magic, sucking on her clit and running her pointed tongue between mel’s folds to collect her slick.

but she doesn’t cum until sevika wraps her lips around her clit again, her piercing colliding with mel’s throbbing clit as she tips over the edge. a low whine is pulled from her throat, and sevika pulls back to admire the woman above her. mel yanks sevika up by her shirt, thanking her with a deep kiss. some of sevika’s lipstick is smudged, so mel wipes it off with her thumbs, as well as the wet slick that’s smeared all over her face.

sevika is suddenly very aware that she doesn’t need shimmer anymore, because she feels like mel’s sweet nectar is enough to get her high.

“i’m gonna need that new arm as soon as you can get it.” sevika says with her lips smashed against mel’s. “need to show you what else i can do.”

——

it’s been three weeks since then, and sevika’s been coming over every night. she still has lots of work to do, but mel helps her with all of it. they sort through tall stacks of paperwork, taking turns sitting on the others lap and pouring each other more wine. sometimes they get distracted with sex, but they try their hardest to stay focused. occasionally mel will bring out her paints and work on something new, forcing sevika to stay focused while she’s at work.

they also spend their mornings together. if they don’t wake up in the other’s arms, they’ll sleepily march down to their door and bang on it until they reunite and hold each other again.

but this morning, sevika wakes up in mel’s bed alone. she reaches out for the woman with her arm, but that side of the bed is just cold and empty. sitting up, she glances around the room until she spies mel in her silky white cloak painting on the balcony.

“mel?” she asks groggily. “why’re you up so early?”

“just had to finish something, love.” she responds, smiling at her girlfriend’s half awake state. “you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“can i at least see what you’re working on?”

“not yet.” she smiles. “it’s a surprise.”

sevika groans and turns around to go back inside, but mel catches her arm and yanks her back for a kiss. sevika kisses over each of mel’s golden freckles, and then her lips, then her nose, her forehead, chin, and then lips again, before returning inside. mel giggles and tries to swat sevika’s back before she gets away, but she’s too slow and the effort is wasted.

back inside, sevika grabs onto mel’s pillow and stuffs her face into it, bringing a familiar comfort that lulls her back to sleep. she’s shaken awake a few hours later, though. it’s mel, very gently rattling sevika’s shoulder while caressing her hair. “sevika, babe, wake up.” she whispers.

“mmmmh?”

“i have a present for you.”

“hmmmm?”

“wake up so you can open it.”

“ughhhhh.”

“oh, please. don’t be so pouty. i want you to see it! quickly, quickly!” she urges, yanking sevika back to the balcony. the sun is slightly higher in the sky now, some of the orange in the sky is still fading away but the sky is painted in a light yellow color, it matches mel a little bit.

she hands her a giant white box with mel’s name on it, a small golden bow sitting directly on the top. “what is this?” sevika asks.

“open it and see!” mel smiles.

so she does. she flips the lock on the box and pulls it open, a smooth, golden arm staring back at her.

“what is this?” sevika asks again, this time in disbelief. she couldn’t tell how serious mel was about acquiring a new arm for her, so she didn’t think she’d be receiving a new one this quickly, or one this pretty.

it’s a lot more modern compared to her other two arms that she’s had in the past. it has a matte gold casing all around it, with shimmery gold patterns that resemble mel’s carved into it. it has all five fingers, but they’re not as pointy, more resembling her human fingers than her past arms. sevika is overcome with emotions, and she turns around to pull mel in for a hug, hiding her tears on her shoulder.

“do you like it?” mel asks.

“i love it.”

“will you teach me how to put it on you?”

“of course.” sevika promises, and with that, mel tugs her inside and makes her sit and show her. it takes a bit of fumbling. sevika isn’t great at explaining things, but she also can’t do much with only one arm, so lots of trial and error occurs during the process. but eventually it’s all screwed in, and the first thing sevika does is pull mel in for a real hug.

mel never really realized how strong sevika is, and how crushing her hugs are. at least, not until now. she knows that sevika can hold her somewhat tightly, but one arm doesn’t do much. now that she as two arms though, mel is struggling to breathe with the way sevika is crushing her. or maybe it’s just because sevika wants to show her girlfriend some love. and she’s definitely not crying.

“i have one more thing.” mel says, although most of it gets muffled by sevika’s chest.

“what is it?” she asks.

“come outside and look.”

sevika follows her outside, grabbing onto mel’s elbow with her new hand.

“close your eyes.” mel says, so sevika squeezes her eyes shut and tries her hardest not to peek. mel dashes over to retrieve the painting on her canvas that’s now fully dry, and then she holds it to face sevika.

“okay, now open them.”

she opens her eyes to see mel holding one of her new paintings— the one she wasn’t allowed to see yet. but now she’s aware of why she wasn’t allowed to see it, because the painting is of her.

it’s sevika. hunched over at mel’s desk with her reading glasses on and a pen in her hand, a glass of wine half empty on the table next to her. the colors in the painting are very warm, likely resembling the warm lamps that decorate mel’s suite. and the most surprising thing— there’s a smile on sevika’s face.

it’s not something she’s ever seen on herself before. for one, she’s never been one to smile in general, it’s just not something she was ever used to doing. photographs are also very rare in zaun, so the only way she could’ve seen it on herself is by smiling in front of a mirror, which is even more rare.

sevika doesn’t even know how to feel. she should cry, because nobody has ever been this kind to her before, and she’s overwhelmed with emotions from the arm, the painting, and just being around mel.

she should also be happy. nobody has ever understood her as much as mel does, and she feels so honored to be seen in her artistic lense. she should be glad that she gets to live up here, where everything is safe and pretty and valuable. she’s also still half asleep, and can’t exactly tell if she’s dreaming or not.

“what do you think?” mel asks after a while.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve this.” sevika says honestly. “is there some kind of special occasion that i don’t know about? or are you just spoiling me.”

“well, mostly the latter,” mel laughs. “but it is our one month anniversary, if that counts for anything.”

“i didn’t get you anything.” sevika frowns, suddenly feeling way out of mel’s league, almost insecure.

“that’s alright.” mel smiles. “your presence is enough.”

sevika rolls her eyes and manages a smile too, yanking mel forward and giving her a sweet kiss. one month isn’t much, but it’s been the happiest month of sevika’s life, and things are starting to look up for her. for zaun, too.

“well,” mel starts, pulling away from sevika’s lips. “there is one small thing you could do for me.”

“and that is…?”

“model for me so i can paint you?” she asks with a happy shrug of her shoulders.

“now? but you just painted me.”

“yes, i’m aware.” she laughs. “but i haven’t painted your new arm yet, and that was from a few days ago but you just look so adorable today. please?”

sevika smiles too. how could she say no to mel when she asks so nicely? “alright, fine.” she agrees.

“good, and take all of your clothes off, too.”

sevika freezes. although mel has seen her naked hundreds of times, she suddenly feels shy.

“don’t worry, it’s just for us.” mel soothes. “lay on the bed and i’ll position you.”

so sevika is left no choice but to follow the orders she was given. she strips herself of her clothes— which is much easier now that she has two arms— and lays down on the bed, looking up at mel with her big, watery eyes. mel walks over and pushes her backward until she’s propped up with just one elbow.

“is this comfortable?” mel asks.

“uh… y-yeah.” sevika responds.

mel pries sevika’s legs open, positioning them apart so that she has a full view of sevika’s dripping cunt from her easel. sevika whimpers, her eyes widening and sparkling as she looks up at mel.

“don’t be shy.” mel teases. “it’s just me.”

“i know, sorry…” sevika says with a sigh, making a mental note to loosen up.

“are you ready for me to start? we’re probably gonna be here all day.”

“yeah. ready.” sevika responds.

“okay, let me know if you need a break.”

mel isn’t too fond of painting from models, but she can feel her opinion changing as she sculpts sevika with the paint. her legs are easy. long and thick, and she gets to mimic the way they’re pressed open.

her torso is next, which is one of her favorite things about sevika. her abs are hard and sturdy, but they get slightly softened out by the rolls of her stomach. then mel moves up to her tits, painting two perfectly pointed brown circles accented with thick, dark nipples.

her neck comes after, and then her arms, and finally her face. mel has memorized every little expression sevika has, so she has a lot to choose from, but she chooses the one that sevika is wearing right now. a goofy, lovestruck smile, adorned with a slight blush sparkling on her cheeks.

her eyes are also fun, they’re so big and sparkly and metallic, mel can’t help but paint stars in them. and of course, her nose, her tooth gap, her piercing, and her hair. they all come together to make up the most perfect face that mel has ever seen.

she moves on to the arms next, painting one with her thick muscles and her warm brown skin, and the other with a shiny gold. her shoulders are slightly slanted, and they have bite marks and hickeys carved into them, which makes mel immensely proud of herself.

and finally, sevika’s glistening cunt. she paints each fold tenderly, a small circle at the top covered slightly by a thin, fleshy hood. she paints the slick in between her thighs that just keeps collecting with her finest white and silver paints.

and of course, her bush, because she wouldn’t dare to forget it. she curls each stroke of her brush until it perfectly mirrors sevika’s thick, dark curls, and then she trails them all the way up her lower stomach.

she finishes the background next, but it’s not much. she doesn’t want anything to take away from sevika’s beauty. but she makes sure to add a few stars surrounding her of various sizes and shades of gold.

sevika has been surprisingly patient throughout the whole thing, mel predicted that she’d be begging for snacks only ten minutes in. but mel finishes quickly and she’s beaming with excitement as soon as she’s done.

“do you wanna see it?” she asks.

“you’re done already?” sevika replies.

“yeah. you’re an easy model.”

“okay, yeah, let me see.” sevika smiles.

mel lifts up the canvas and presents it to sevika, and it’s somehow even more beautiful than the other painting. mel captures her so beautifully, sevika is so honored to be viewed that way. for the first time in her life, she truly feels beautiful. and mel can tell that she feels that way too, through the tears that threaten to spill in her eyes.

and just as sevika is about to tackle mel to the bed too, she notices something in the bottom corner. in a shimmery gold writing, the words “my star. -mel m.” are painted. sevika looks up at mel with a questioning glance and asks, “what’s that?”

“it’s my signature. the title of the painting and my name.”

“‘my star’?” sevika reads off.

“yeah, because that’s what you are. you’re my star, sevika. you’re so beautiful and bright.”

and those words echo in sevika’s mind for the rest of time, especially when sevika pins mel down and rides her face into the pillow a few seconds later. she’s right. she is mel��s star, isn’t she.

#inspired by golden age by ethel cain because i can’t write a fic if it’s not based off of one of her songs 😭#ANYWAYS MELVIKA IS HEREEEEE #sevika #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #mel medarda #mel medarda arcane #mel arcane #melvika #sevika x mel #sevika x mel medarda #arcane #arcane netflix #arcane league of legends

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enemiestolovershoe · 3 days ago

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nick folio smut pleaseee

Drummer's Desire

Nick Folio x bsf!reader

Summary: Y/N, the merch girl, and Nick Folio have always been close. On tour, their bond deepens as playful flirting turns into something more.

Words: 5.6k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, orgasm, nicknames, friends to lovers, smoking, let me know if I forgot something

Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.

You didn’t plan on becoming a merch girl, let alone sticking around long enough to be considered a staple of the Bad Omens crew. It all started when you took the job as a favor for a friend. Their usual merch handler had bailed last minute, and they needed someone to cover for one show. You’d been a fan of the band but never expected to end up on tour with them.

One show turned into two, and before you knew it, you were stuffing your life into a suitcase and hopping on a bus with a group of guys who quickly became your second family. Over the years, you’d bonded with each member of the band, laughing at Noah’s sarcastic quips, staying up late playing video games with Jolly, and helping clean up after some of Ruffilo's wilder post-show antics.

But Folio? Folio was different.

From the moment you met him, the two of you clicked. Whether it was your shared sense of humor, the one or the other joint, his easygoing attitude, or how he always managed to lighten the mood, Folio became your best friend on the road.

Matt, the band’s manager, never let you live it down, constantly teasing the two of you about how inseparable you were. You both brushed it off—because that’s what friends do.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

The sun was already baking the asphalt as you hauled the first of many boxes of merch from the van to the venue’s back entrance. You could feel the sweat trickling down the back of your neck, but the thought of another tour had your adrenaline pumping. The familiar smell of stale beer and faintly disinfected hallways greeted you as you stepped inside.

"Just another day living the dream," you muttered to yourself, setting the box down with a grunt.

“Need help, princess?”

The voice, smooth and teasing, sent a shiver down your spine despite the heat. You turned to find Nick Folio leaning casually against the doorframe, his signature smirk firmly in place. He wore his usual tour uniform—black jeans and a black shirt—and looked irritatingly unfazed by the work ahead.

“Princess?” you asked, arching an eyebrow, though you couldn’t fight the grin tugging at your lips.

“What? You don’t like it?” Folio pushed off the frame and strolled toward you. “Thought it suited you. All regal, in charge of your little merch kingdom.”

You rolled your eyes. “More like I’m the pack mule of your kingdom. But if you’re offering, your royal highness, I could use the help.”

“Thought you’d never ask.” He winked, stepping past you to grab a box. His cologne mixed with the stale air of the venue, and you pretended not to notice how good it smelled.

The two of you worked in tandem, grabbing boxes from the van and stacking them neatly inside the venue. Folio kept up a steady stream of commentary, half of it teasing, the other half genuinely amusing.

“So, what’s the over-under on Matt cracking a joke about us by the end of the day?” he asked, his voice light as he hefted another box onto his shoulder.

You groaned. “Oh, you know he’s already planning something. He’s probably got a list of new nicknames he’s ready to test out.”

“Hmm.” Folio grinned. “Let’s see... power couple? Dynamic duo? The will-they-won’t-they wonders of the merch table?”

You threw a crumpled piece of cardboard at him. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m carrying this box, aren’t I?” He raised an eyebrow as he set it down inside. “Besides, you secretly love the attention.”

“Do not!” you shot back, though your flushed cheeks probably betrayed you.

A loud voice boomed from across the venue. “Hey, lovebirds! Quit flirting and get a move on!”

Matt stood by the stage, clipboard in hand, grinning like he’d just caught you red-handed. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the embarrassed laugh that bubbled out.

“Flirting?” Folio called back. “We’re way past flirting, man. We’re at the full rom-com montage stage.”

You smacked his arm, but he only laughed.

Once the last box was inside, you plopped down on a nearby stool, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. Folio sat on the edge of the table, spinning a drumstick between his fingers like he always did when he was killing time.

“You know,” he said, his tone softer now, “it’s kinda nice, starting the tour like this. Feels... normal.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the sudden sincerity in his voice. “Yeah,” you admitted. “It’s always a little chaotic, but once we’re on the road, it’s home.”

“Exactly.” He nodded, his eyes meeting yours for a moment that felt longer than it should have.

Before you could overthink it, a voice called from the stage.

“Folio! Soundcheck!”

He sighed dramatically, hopping off the table. “Duty calls. Don’t miss me too much, princess.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile lingered long after he walked away.

You leaned against the counter, scanning the thinning crowd. The fans had been relentless for the past hour, snatching up shirts, hoodies, and posters like their lives depended on it. You loved their energy—it was infectious—but you were grateful for the lull. Charles, your ever-reliable co-worker, waved you off with a grin.

“Take a break, would ya? I’ve got this,” he said, gesturing to the mostly empty merch table.

“You sure?” you asked, already halfway out of your seat.

“Positive. Go do whatever it is you do when you’re not folding shirts.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. A break meant one thing—watching your favorite boys perform.

Weaving your way backstage, the familiar hum of the arena filled your ears. The opening act had wrapped up, and the crowd was buzzing with anticipation. You slipped past crew members and equipment until you found your spot at the side of the stage.

The lights dimmed, and the roar of the crowd was deafening. One by one, the band members took their places. Noah’s voice echoed through the arena as the band launched into “Concrete Jungle.” You couldn’t help but grin, the energy of the performance pulling you in.

It wasn’t long before Folio spotted you. He was mid-drumbeat when his eyes found yours, and even in the dim lighting, you could see the smirk spreading across his face. A few songs later, Jolly, Nicholas, and Noah caught sight of you. Each of them gave you a smile or a nod, their way of saying “Glad you’re here.”

As “Like a Villain” came to an end, Folio set his sticks down, stood up, and made his way toward you. You raised an eyebrow, folding your arms as he approached.

“What are you doing here?” he asked with a big smirk, his voice loud enough to carry over the residual cheers from the crowd.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you teased, smirking. “You’re supposed to be on stage.”

Folio held up a joint, the corner of his mouth curling into a mischievous grin. “Just went to get this. Wanna join?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “After the show, bad guy. I still have to sell your clothes when the show’s over.”

“Fair enough,” he said, chuckling.

“Now go back on stage before Matt gets mad at us again.”

“Fine, fine.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping slightly. “But don’t go anywhere. I want to see you after the set.”

“Go!” you urged, lightly pushing him back toward the stage.

He winked before turning back to his kit, and you shook your head, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face.

As Folio settled in and the band kicked off “Just Pretend,” you stayed in your corner, watching as they owned the stage. This wasn’t just a band to you—it was family. And moments like these reminded you why you loved being part of this chaotic, beautiful circus.

As the final chords of "Dethrone" rang out and the crowd’s cheers shook the arena, you knew it was your cue to head back to the merch stand. You waved at Folio as you turned to leave, catching the quick nod and grin he sent your way before he launched into the final encore.

By the time you reached the merch table, fans were already gathering, ready to grab their last-minute souvenirs. For the next hour and a half, it was non-stop chaos. Hoodies, shirts, posters, and CDs flew off the table as you and Charles scrambled to keep up. Your legs ached, and your throat was dry from shouting over the noise, but the fans’ excitement was contagious, keeping you going.

Finally, as the crowd thinned out and the arena began to empty, you leaned against the counter, letting out a sigh of relief.

“I’m officially dead,” you muttered to Charles, who nodded in agreement.

“Good thing we’re done,” he said, motioning toward the approaching group.

You looked up to see the band and Matt making their way toward you, still buzzing from the performance. Noah was the first to speak.

“Let us help so we can go back to the hotel,” he said, his voice firm but friendly.

You and Charles exchanged a look and nodded instantly. With the band’s help, the merch boxes were packed up and loaded into the vans in record time. Nicholas and Jolly cracked jokes the entire time, while Matt barked playful orders, pretending to be the bossier version of himself.

As you finished securing the last box, Folio sidled up to you, bumping your shoulder lightly. “You good, princess?” he asked, his voice softer than the usual teasing tone.

“Exhausted,” you admitted, stretching your arms.

“You worked hard tonight,” he said, his hand brushing yours briefly as he handed you your water bottle.

You gave him a small smile. “Thanks. You weren’t too bad up there yourself, rockstar.”

He smirked, leaning a little closer. “Just trying to impress the merch girl.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks warmed.

The ride back to the hotel was filled with laughter and a collective sense of relief. Noah and Jolly argued about the setlist for the next show while Nicholas played a playlist of ‘90s throwbacks' that had everyone groaning and singing along in equal measure. Folio, however, stayed close to you, his shoulder brushing yours more often than usual as he made small comments that only you could hear.

You chalked up his extra touchiness to the joint he’d smoked earlier.

When the vans pulled up to the hotel, you gathered your things and headed toward the lobby, ready to collapse into your bed. But just as you reached the doors, you felt Folio’s hand wrap around yours, tugging you to the side.

“Where are you—” you began, but he cut you off with a smirk as he held up the remaining joint.

“Forgot already, huh?”

Your eyes widened, and you let out a laugh. “No—yeah, I’m sorry. I guess I got a little distracted.”

“Lucky for you, I’m a patient guy,” he said, his grin turning playful as he motioned for you to follow him.

The two of you found a quiet corner behind the hotel, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the heat and chaos of the evening. Folio lit the joint, taking a slow drag before passing it to you.

“Better now?” he asked, watching you as you exhaled.

“Much better,” you said with a chuckle, leaning against the wall beside him.

The shared silence was comfortable, punctuated by the distant hum of city noise and the occasional flicker of streetlights. You couldn’t help but glance at him, the soft glow of the joint casting shadows on his face, making his smirk look even more mischievous.

“You’re staring,” he said without looking at you.

“Am not,” you retorted, taking another drag to hide your embarrassment.

“Sure, princess,” he teased, his voice low. “Whatever you say.”

The cool night air was laced with the faint aroma of the joint, and by now, you could feel the haze settling over you. It made everything softer—your laughter, the buzz of distant cars, and especially Folio’s voice as he leaned against the wall next to you, his shoulder almost touching yours.

“You’re quiet,” he teased, exhaling a slow stream of smoke into the night. His eyes flicked to yours, glinting with mischief. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Pretty head?” you repeated, laughing softly. “Bold words coming from someone who calls me ‘princess’ every five minutes.”

“It suits you,” he said with a shrug, passing the joint back to you. His fingers brushed yours intentionally, lingering just long enough to make your heart skip. “I mean, you’ve got that whole ‘effortlessly cool’ thing going on. Own it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the compliment had you smiling. “Effortlessly cool? Says the guy who’s literally a rockstar.”

He tilted his head, smirking. “Okay, but you make folding t-shirts look like an art form. I’d trade the drum kit for that any day.”

“You’re full of it,” you said, taking a drag before handing the joint back.

“Maybe,” he admitted, leaning a little closer. “Or maybe I’m just saying what I’ve been thinking for a while now.”

The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world worth paying attention to—sent a shiver down your spine. You blamed it on the weed, the atmosphere, anything but the way your chest fluttered under his gaze.

“You’ve been thinking about me?” you asked, your voice light but laced with curiosity.

“More than you’d believe,” he said, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “It’s hard not to when you’re always around, being all... you.”

“All me?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You know exactly what I mean. You’re smart, funny, and you keep all of us from falling apart on tour. Not to mention you’re... well, beautiful.”

The word hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

“Are you sure you’re not just high?” you joked, though your voice was quieter now.

“High enough to say it,” he replied, his tone dropping slightly, “but not high enough to mean it any less.”

The boldness of his words caught you off guard, and before you could respond, he reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered against your cheek, and your breath hitched.

“Folio...” you began, but your voice trailed off when his eyes flicked to your lips.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “And I will.”

You didn’t.

His lips met yours softly at first, like he was testing the waters. Your eyes fluttered shut, and for a split second, the world around you disappeared. When the initial shock wore off, you kissed him back, your fingers gripping the front of his hoodie as the kiss deepened.

It wasn’t gentle anymore. It was heated, almost desperate, and you didn’t realize how much you’d wanted this until it was happening. Folio’s hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, his forehead rested against yours.

“Wanna continue in my room?” he asked, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill through you.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding as you looked into his eyes.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Folio’s smirk widened into a grin that made your knees feel weak. “Let’s go then,” he said, taking your hand in his. His touch was warm and steady, grounding you despite the butterflies swarming in your chest.

The two of you walked back into the hotel lobby, the quiet hum of the night contrasting sharply with the storm of emotions building between you. You avoided the curious glances from a few straggling crew members, focusing instead on the warmth of Folio’s hand as it wrapped securely around yours.

When you stepped into the elevator, the tension in the small space was palpable. The doors had barely closed before Folio turned toward you, his free hand sliding to your waist as he pushed you gently against the wall.

“Couldn’t wait, huh?” you teased breathlessly, though your heart was racing.

“Not even a little,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. His lips crashed into yours, and this time there was no hesitation. His kiss was demanding, full of need, and you melted into him, gripping the front of his shirt to steady yourself.

His hands explored your sides, fingers pressing into your skin as if he was afraid to let go. Every thought slipped from your mind, replaced by the feeling of him—his lips, his hands, the way his body pressed into yours.

The ding of the elevator snapped you both back to reality. You pulled away just enough to catch your breath, your cheeks flushed as you glanced at the now-open doors.

“Saved by the bell,” you said, trying to steady your voice.

Folio chuckled, his forehead resting against yours for a brief moment. “Not for long.”

Taking your hand again, he led you down the hallway, his pace quick and purposeful. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his urgency, but there was no denying the anticipation bubbling in your chest.

When you reached his room, Folio fumbled with the key card for a second before pushing the door open. Before you could take in your surroundings, your back was against the wall again, his lips finding yours like he couldn’t bear to stop.

He pulled away just enough to search your eyes, his breath mingling with yours. “You sure, princess?” he asked, his voice softer now, laced with something almost vulnerable.

You nodded, your hand brushing his cheek. “100%.”

That was all he needed to hear.

With a grin, he slipped his hands around your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, carrying you toward the bed. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your laughter mingling with his as the tension between you both gave way to something deeper, more intimate.

The two of you were completely lost in each other. Time seemed to blur as you made out, lips moving together in perfect rhythm. His hands roamed your body with a mix of confidence and care, tracing the curve of your waist, the line of your back, like he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

Folio’s kisses weren’t just passionate—they were consuming. Every time he pulled back to catch his breath, his lips found a new spot: the corner of your mouth, your jawline, the sensitive spot just beneath your ear that sent shivers down your spine.

Your fingers toyed with the hem of his hoodie, tugging gently. It wasn’t subtle, and he pulled back just enough to smirk at you, his lips already swollen. “What’s the rush, princess? I was just getting started,” he teased, his voice low and full of heat.

You rolled your eyes, though your breathless laugh betrayed you. “Less talking, more action, drummer boy.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “As you wish.”

In one swift motion, he grabbed the hem of his hoodie and pulled it over his head, tossing it carelessly to the side. His toned chest and tattooed arms were on full display now, and you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger.

“Like what you see?” he asked, grinning when he caught you staring.

“Shut up,” you muttered, cheeks flushing, but you couldn’t hide your smirk.

Folio leaned in again, kissing you deeply as his hands found the edge of your sweater. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers brushing your skin, and then he tugged it upward, pulling it off in one fluid motion.

“Much better,” he murmured, his eyes darkening as they roamed over you. “God, you’re beautiful.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“Keep saying stuff like that, and you might just get lucky,” you teased, though your voice was softer now.

His laugh was low and rich, and he kissed you again, this time with even more urgency. His hands roamed your bare skin, leaving trails of warmth wherever they touched. You weren’t sure who moved first, but soon enough, your jeans were gone, followed quickly by his.

Now in just your underwear, you could feel the heat radiating between you. Your hands explored his body, tracing the muscles of his back and shoulders as his lips trailed down your neck. You arched into his touch, a soft groan escaping your lips when his hands stroked your sides, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to the edge of your bra.

“Folio...” you whispered, your voice thick with need.

He hummed against your skin, his lips never stopping their assault. “What’s that, princess?”

“Nicky,” you groaned, using the nickname you knew would get his attention. His head snapped up, and his eyes locked onto yours. “I need you.”

Something shifted in his expression, his usual teasing demeanor replaced by something raw, almost primal. He kissed you again, harder this time, his hands gripping your hips as though he was trying to ground himself.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” he murmured against your lips.

Without another word, his hand slid down your side, his touch igniting every nerve in your body. When his fingers found the place where you needed him most, your gasp turned into a soft moan, and his name fell from your lips like a prayer.

Folio’s fingers explored you with a confidence that made you gasp, and the sound pulled a low groan from his lips. His forehead rested against yours, and his voice was rough, almost a whisper. “You’re so wet, Y/N,” he said, his breath hot against your skin.

You bit your lip, your face flushing as you locked eyes with him. A teasing smirk tugged at your lips, despite the haze clouding your mind. “Oh, I have been,” you admitted, your voice breathy, “since I saw you smoking that joint on stage.”

Folio groaned, the sound deep and guttural. His lips brushed against your ear as he chuckled. “You’re gonna be the death of me, princess,” he murmured, his tone full of both adoration and hunger.

His fingers worked in and out of you with a rhythm that had your back arching against the bed. Each motion sent a wave of pleasure through you, making it impossible to keep quiet. Your hands clutched the sheets beneath you, and his name spilled from your lips like a plea.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his voice dripping with encouragement. “Let go for me. I want to see you fall apart.”

And you did. Your body trembled beneath his touch as he brought you over the edge, your cries filling the room. The intensity left you breathless, your chest rising and falling as you came undone beneath him.

Folio slowed his movements, pressing soft kisses to your skin as you came down. His lips trailed lower, leaving a path of warmth and electricity in their wake. When he reached the hem of your panties, he paused, glancing up at you with a look that sent another shiver down your spine.

The silent question in his eyes was clear. You nodded, your trust in him unspoken but unwavering.

He didn’t hesitate, hooking his fingers under the waistband and pulling your panties down slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. Once they were gone, he settled between your legs, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before his lips found the place where you needed him most.

The moment his tongue moved against you, your head fell back against the pillows, a shaky gasp escaping your lips. “Oh, my God, Nicky,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair as he worked you expertly.

The sounds he made—the soft hums of satisfaction and the occasional groan when you pulled on his hair—only heightened your pleasure. He alternated between slow, teasing strokes and firm, purposeful movements that had your hips bucking against him.

“Folio,” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper as the tension inside you built again.

“Right here, princess,” he murmured against your skin, his words sending vibrations through you.

It didn’t take long for the pleasure to crest again, this time even more intense than the first. Your body tensed, your cries filling the room as you shattered beneath him. He didn’t stop until every last wave had subsided, his movements gentle as he helped you ride it out.

When you finally stilled, he smirked, clearly proud of himself. He rested his head on your hips, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your thigh. “You good, princess?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost tender.

You nodded, a dazed smile spreading across your lips. “Mhm. More than good,” you replied, your voice still breathless. “Come here.”

He crawled up your body, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was slower this time but no less intense. You could taste yourself on him, and instead of shying away, you deepened the kiss, pulling him closer.

Your hands wandered down his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles until they reached the waistband of his boxers. You palmed him through the fabric, feeling his arousal straining against it.

Folio groaned into your mouth, his hips jerking slightly at your touch. “Fuck, Y/N,” he muttered, breaking the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “You’re gonna drive me crazy.”

“Good,” you teased, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as your hand slipped under the waistband, wrapping around him. The warmth of his hardened length against your palm sent a thrill through you, and you stroked him slowly, savoring the way his breath hitched.

“You keep doing that,” he murmured, his voice strained, “and I’m not gonna last, princess.”

“Then don’t,” you whispered, your tone teasing yet full of want. “I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

Folio’s gaze darkened, and he kissed you again, his hand sliding up your side and tangling in your hair as he lost himself in the moment. Folio’s lips were hot against your neck, his breath ragged as he kissed his way up to your ear. You pulled him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. “Now show me how much you care about me, Folio,” you whispered, your voice soft but laced with need.

His breath hitched at your words, and he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and full of desire. “You have no idea what you do to me, princess,” he murmured before pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

His movements were slow and deliberate as he slid his boxers down, freeing himself. You couldn’t help but glance down, and your breath caught at the sight of him. He smirked when he noticed your reaction, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Like what you see?” he teased, his tone playful despite the tension crackling between you.

You gave him a cheeky grin, your hands sliding up his chest. “Very.”

His laugh was low and rich, but it was cut short as he kissed you again, his lips hungry against yours. After a moment, he pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m gonna grab a condom real quick, yeah?” he said, his voice full of care despite the urgency in his movements.

You shook your head, your hands gently cradling his face. “You don’t need to,” you told him, your voice soft but steady. “I’m on the pill.”

Folio groaned, the sound deep and guttural, his lips brushing against your temple. “Fuck, okay,” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips as he positioned himself. “Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

You nodded, your trust in him unwavering. “I will,” you assured him, your voice barely above a whisper.

He guided himself to your entrance, sliding his length through your folds with deliberate slowness, letting you adjust to the sensation. The moment he began to sink into you, you both moaned in unison, the sound filling the room.

“God, you’re so tight, baby,” Folio groaned, his voice strained as he fought to keep his movements controlled.

You gasped, your nails digging lightly into his shoulders. “Or,” you managed to breathe out, a teasing smile tugging at your lips despite the haze in your mind. “You’re just big, Folio.”

His head dropped to your shoulder, another deep groan escaping him. “Fuck,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he bottomed out, staying still for a moment to let you both adjust.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded quickly, your legs tightening around him. “More than okay,” you murmured. “Move, Nicky.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled out slowly before slamming back into you, setting a rhythm that had you both panting and moaning in no time. Each thrust was deep and purposeful, his name falling from your lips like a mantra.

The coil in your stomach tightened with every movement, and you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. “Folio,” you whimpered, your hands tangling in his hair as your back arched off the bed.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his lips pressing against your temple. “Let go for me, princess. I want to feel you.”

With one more thrust, the knot in your stomach snapped, and you cried out his name as you came undone beneath him. The sensation of your walls tightening around him pushed Folio over the edge, and he groaned deeply as he followed, spilling into you with a final, powerful thrust.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, his body hovering over yours as you both caught your breath. His forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as he came down from his high.

“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You smiled up at him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “Mhm. More than okay,” you replied, your voice still breathless.

Folio smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I—”

A sudden knock on the door interrupted him, making you both freeze. He groaned, resting his head on your shoulder with an exaggerated sigh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your fingers brushing through his hair. “Better get that, rockstar.”

Folio scrambled to pull his boxers and shirt back on, clearly flustered by the unexpected interruption. You slid beneath the covers, pulling them up to your chest and trying to contain your giggles.

He shot you a quick look before dashing over to the door, still trying to fix his disheveled hair. When he swung it open, Matt stood there, arms crossed with a smug look on his face.

“Can I help you, Matt?” Folio asked, his voice a little too casual, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping up his neck.

Matt raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Uh, yeah, actually. I could hear you two down the hall,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “So, keep it down, yeah? I don’t know how much press there is in this hotel.”

Folio’s face turned as red as a tomato, his lips pressing into a thin line as he fought to hold back his laughter. “Fuck, okay,” he muttered, pulling his lip between his teeth and nodding quickly.

Matt leaned against the doorframe, clearly enjoying the moment. “Called it, by the way,” he added with a wink, before turning on his heels and walking away.

Folio closed the door with a soft thud and let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping in relief. You couldn’t hold it in any longer, bursting out in laughter.

“That was so embarrassing,” he said, shaking his head, but his smile was wide, the redness still lingering on his cheeks.

You snickered, sitting up on the bed, and held your arms open. “Come here, Folio,” you said, still laughing, your voice light and teasing.

Folio hesitated for a moment, but then he grinned, shaking his head. “You’re really enjoying this, huh?”

“More than you know,” you replied, winking at him. “Now get over here, my drummer boy.”

He sighed dramatically, though the playful glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t actually upset. With one last, exaggerated eye roll, he crossed the room and climbed back onto the bed beside you.

You snuggled up next to him, your head resting on his shoulder as the two of you tried to settle into a more relaxed position. “Can’t believe Matt heard everything,” you said, still chuckling quietly.

Folio wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. “I don’t know who’s worse—Matt for hearing or me for not realizing how loud we were being.”

You smirked up at him. “I’m gonna guess Matt, since he was the one who interrupted us.”

Folio laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “True. But I’m blaming you, anyway,” he teased, giving you a playful squeeze. “You’re just too irresistible, princess.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face betrayed the teasing. “Uh-huh. Sure, blame me,” you replied, your voice light and playful. “I’m just the innocent bystander in all this.”

“Mm-hmm,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “Innocent, my ass.”

You both laughed together, the tension from earlier melting away as you enjoyed the moment in each other’s company, no longer caring about anything else happening outside the room.

taglist: @courta13

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casuallivi · 3 days ago

Text

The Midnight Kiss

Warning: blink and you have a giant doc worthy of flashbacks but moving the story forward is a hassle to you, huh? this is a self critique. I guess in the end we do write what we want to read, there's no escaping our kinks.

Enjoy. Comments are welcomed and cherished :)

Part 9: 500 days of Azriel - part 2

DAY 348

“Hold for me!”

The feminine pitch echoed in the parking lot, bags fumbling against her ribs and sneakers thumping in concrete as she ran for the elevator, Azriel using a hand to keep the door open.

“Good morning, sexy.” A slightly out of breath Elain greeted him coming into view, a messy braid swaying from one shoulder to the other.

“That’s no way no greet your boss.” He stepped aside, allowing her to enter. “Don’t mimic me.”

“I wasn’t gonna,” Elain denied mid eye-roll, mouth already twisting to repeat his words. “I wasn’t! Gosh, you’re stiff from sunrise to sundown, and not in the fun way.”

Ignoring her blunt lie Azriel took the heavy black bag containing a heavy camera support from her shoulders and pressed their floor number.

“You chatter from sunrise to sundown, and don't see me complaining.”

Her braid slapped him in the chest, Elain turning to look at a him, mouth hanging open as if she could not believe her ears.

“Are you freaking kidding me!?! Of course, you do! You complain about it all. the. time!”

“Nah, that doesn’t sound like a me thing.”

“Unbelievable. Hold this.” she muttered pulling the light orange scrunchie from the end of her braid, nimble fingers combing through her hair to undo the thing. Azriel slipped the accessory in his wrist, watching she bang her head from one side to the other.

“Are you trying to get messier?”

“I’m giving it a sexy spin. You wouldn’t know nothing about that miss my-mommy-combs-my-hair-every-morning.”

A couple more shakes and she was done, picking her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and opening the camera app, moving her neck this way and that to check herself.

“Say My girlfriend is the sexiest in the whole world!”

Azriel frowned at the blinding flash lights coming out of nowhere.

“A little warning.”

“I like organic moments. And you never come out looking ugly anyways. Is infuriating.” She moved closer to him, opening her phone gallery and proceeding to show him the picture.

Azriel barely paid attention to himself, eyes fixed entirely on Elain, mapping the constellation of freckles framing the bridge of her nose and puffed cheeks pushed upwards by a big smile. Then her finger was swiping on the screen, showing him three more photos she managed to snap in succession

"Look at my lazy eye! Christ, even glaring you look good. Never managed to catch up with an open mouth, eyes rolling, sneezing, poking your nose, nothing! It’s like you are prepared every goddamn time.”

He chuckled at her indignation.

“Why do you take so many pictures?”

Elain shrugged.

“I like documenting stuff. Stuff that catch my attention.”

“Everything catches your attention. You have the attention span of a hyperactive toddler.”

“Oh, shut it. I bet you have some weird photos in your phone, you probably collect feet or something. Where is it?”

A sneaky hand quickly found its way to his front pocket, Elain made sure her eyes were wild open to taunt him. "My, my, is this phone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

She didn’t wait for him to answer, taking the phone out with a false victory cry.

“What’s your password? No! Let me guess…. 0828?”

Her question caught him by surprise.

“You remember my birthday?”

“Sure! How could I forget you’re a tight little virgin?” Elain pumped her eyebrows up and down, getting an eye roll as response. “Wait a minute,”

“Here we go.”

Azriel stepped out from the elevator making away to the rented shoot set, not bothering to check if Elain was following. He knew she was. She would never pass an opportunity to tell him whatever nonsense she had come up with.

“Now that I think about it… does that mean I get to pop your cherry?” She gasped exaggeratedly, placing a hand in her heart. “Do not worry Marino, I’ll do right by you, I’ll give –”

“All right now, let’s not. 1234. The password is 1234.”

Elain typed the password clicking her tongue, a fake expression of disappointment fixed in place.

“Christ, you’re a grandpa. This is a terrible password, too easy to remember.”

“That’s why I put it.”

“That’s why is bad.”

She went on and on about him being an old guy who was not deserving of technology, Azriel not really paying her much attention until she squealed like a guttered bunny.

“Oh my god,”

Elain exited the gallery and return dozens of times, thinking his phone may had malfunctioned or something. Nope, the phone was working just fine. She waved it in his face.

“Why are there no pictures in here?”

“There are.” Azriel said nonchalantly, jerking his chin at the few images appearing in his gallery.

All impersonal and irrelevant, mostly pictures exchanged throughout the day in Marinos’ group chat. Elain shook her head in denial.

“I mean personal pictures, pictures of things you captured with your camera because you liked them, not because they are in a vision board from next month’s issue.”

Azriel frowned in confusion

“Why would I take pictures? I can just look at the things I want.”

Elain let out a dramatic gasp, hand to heart and everything. Before she could berate him a chirpy blonde fellow approached them.

“Morning boss. Morning El. What me to set you up?”

“Morning Tommy. You can take the bag from the handsome.”

Nonchalant, Azriel dropped the bag in the boys arms not bothering to make the transition easy, Elain’s assistant for the day nearly collapsing under the weight. Azriel watched the new intern struggling not to drag the bag away.

“I don’t like him.” He said serious. Not an ounce of strength in those arms. He would not last.

"You don't like anyone."

Morning El.

"I specially don't like him."

“Are you a serial killer?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

"This is not normal."

His phone was pushed on his chest and then Elain was back on her phone, frantically swiping her fingers across hundreds of pictures gleaming in the bright screen. Literally hundreds. She gave him the phone and Azriel kept scrolling. Different shoots of ice cream, juice, pizza, donuts, pasta and other food related items passed by.

“Are you setting a portfolio for a culinary magazine?” he joked.

Elain slapped him in the arm, the aggression changing to a caress when her fingers splayed over his shirt, curling around his covered biceps.

“God, you’re big. Strong too.”

“Open space. Office hours.” He chanted, not bothering to remove her hand. Once could say he flexed a little, but Azriel would firmly deny.

“I know. What were we talking about?”

“Food.”

“Yeah, food… I could eat you up.” She sighted lost in a dream.

“Elain.”

“I said food gives me joy.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. Judging by her phone gallery, everything gave her joy. Parcs, dogs, kids, houses, rain, trains, books, fresh laundry. Eventually, his employees began to fill the screen as well, goofing in their spare time, posing in the allocated sets with some model, posing with props, taking mirror selfies, cataloging material in their reunions, then it came him. Azriel clicked on a couple pictures of him taken recently, face serious and sleeves rolled upwards as he examined a variety of reports covering the meeting room table. He turned to Elain, questioning her with a look

"You look good when you are focused." She shrugged. “By the way, you don’t have to make the intern cry. I know you don’t believe it, but it is possible to treat people nicely and not die on the spot.”

Azriel sighed deeply. Never a single topic with this one. Elain’s mind had a tendency of jumping from one subject to the other, the conversation never floating in a single direction.

“I’m not running a daycare, Archeron. I’m their boss.”

“I know that. I still think you can be less of an asshole,” suddenly, she pointed a finger at him saying, “and praise! Everyone likes a little praising every once in a while. You never praise anyone! It’s absurd.”

“When one of them do something worthy of my praise, they’ll receive it.” A bit of silence passed, and Azriel could feel Elain starring a hole at his face. “What?”

“It’s that your kink? Making someone working hard for your praise?”

The more his ears turned red, the playful glint in her eyes shining brighter. Where Azriel wasn’t one to make jokes or sexual innuendos in public, Elain used them as a second language, not ashamed to shoot her shot any time. At first he thought he hated her jokes, annoyed at how inconvenient she was. Later, Azriel realized his annoyance came from the fact that he was not able to quip her with a response, a fitting rebuke only coming to mind when it was already too late.

“Do you like receiving it or giving it? No matter, I guarantee I can satisfy you either way.”

“Nope. I’m done talking with you now,” he announced walking away from her. “I have real work to do.”

“I work too you know! I make the stars in this set shine!” She yelled after him. “Have a good day, lover!”

DAY 424

“All I’m saying is you can tell me. I’m your brother, for fucks sake.” Cassian whined loudly from his chair, legs shaking like a goddamn toddler.

“I’m not talking to you.” Azriel said from behind is computer.

“Come on, bro. All I’m asking is a little bit of gossip from how are things progressing with our sweet little Lainy. For example, has she taken your virginity yet?”

"She's not yours anything." Aziel said monotonously, not bothering to give his brother too much attention. “And I am not a virgin.”

“Men don’t count.”

“Fuck off.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure our Lainy won’t –”

“Not yours.”

"Agree to disagree. Since you decided playing this fake dating shit, she sure ought to be my something." Cassian taunted. “Come on Az, I know you are not dating her. You can come clean now, I won’t judge. Much.”

Azriel watched his brother, his restless hand tapping against the armrest, the smirk that didn’t quite meet the eye. His brow furrowed.

Azriel and Cassian had a complicated relationship in boyhood, having to relearn how to navigate around each other once they were adults. The boys weren't in speaking terms for two years of their late teens and the majority of their twenties. When they were seen together at last, everyone assumed the brothers made piece to take over the family business because it was the natural outcome for them.

In reality the biggest reason behind Azriel’s return to America was Marinos wasn’t as profitable as before. While Azriel followed Morrigan across the globe her modeling career took flight but his grandfather got sick, and Cassian –who had always been the favorite for choosing to learn the finance trade– took over the family publishing business, only then discovering the trojan horse his favorite relative had left him. Their grandfather’s entire publishing business was facing bankruptcy, the magazine being one of the remaining divisions that still hadn’t gone under.

By the time he asked for Azriel's help, it was too late to save most of the branches, but Azriel did his utter best to save Marinos –a fashion magazine originally envisioned by his mother that no one ever really cared about. It cost him four years of strenuous hard work, twenty percent of the shares sold, multiple department changes, function extinctions and staff rearrangements, and the woman he thought it was the love of his life gone, but Azriel got Marinos back to its feet.

Azriel watched his brother, the nasty memory of their split replaying in his mind. It would be a lie for him to say pettiness wasn't what guide him to drop himself -almost- on top of Elain Archeron on that night. The woman had a massive crush on Cass, and knowing his brother's ego as he did, Cass was probably nursing said crush to act on it. That night Azriel’s drunken mind conjured a reality where if he was lucky, he would make his brother a little jealous, just enough to give him a bit of satisfaction. A petty payback for succeeding in doing what Azriel never could.

“You are awfully interested in my girlfriend.”

“Am I?”

Seeing his brother show such blunt display of interest in Elain gave Azriel a couple emotions, and satisfaction was none of them. It doomed on his mind that he had become attached to Elain rather quickly, because playing petty games Morrigan and his brother didn’t seem so interesting anymore.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, Cassian sneer daring him to submit, to speak first, to cry and beg and plead for his brother to leave him alone as he would do when they were kids. Azriel wasn’t a kid anymore.

Cassian opened his mouth, and Azriel would never hear what he was about to say. Two knocks on the wood and the brothers broke their staring contest as a twirling Elain made her way into the room, the skirt of her dress swaying around her legs.

“See? I told you it wouldn’t wrinkle! I’m all ready for – Cassian.”

Her eyes grown bigger mid-sentence, surprised to find his brother there, same brother who wasted no time in placing two finger on his mouth whistling loudly.

“I'm ready for you too. Looking good, Lainy.”

"You're back."

Azriel watched her expression change from mirthful to bashful. He wondered if she was feeling shy of embarrassed. He hoped it was the latter.

“Yep, and just in time to make your wishes come true. I’m not Santa, but you can sit on my lap and tell me everything you want. I'll give it to you."

“Christmas in long gone, Cass.” She snorted.

“Oh, a daddy is never of duty,” he winked at her.

Elain suppressed her giggle, Azriel gagging all the wall to the coach hanger. “You are disgusting.”

Cassian ignored him, all smirk and bravado as he got up and moved toward Elain, malice radiating from every step. He appraised her from head to toe. It was a rare event to see Elain in a dress. Glittering eyelids matched the cleave-free green dress that stopped a few inches above her knees, white flats completing her look. His eyes returned on her knees, his smile dropping, replaced by a frown. There, pinkish than the rest of her skin, laid a perpendicular scar dividing her knee in half, stretch marks from the stitches leaving the skin heightened in a standing position. Cassian had never noticed that scar before. He wondered if it was new.

Elain cleared her throat, a blue jacket appeared in his line of sight as she repositioned the piece of clothing in her arms to cover herself, uncomfortable with his stare. Cassian smiled at her, deciding it was best not to ask about it.

“So, where we going?”

He offered her a hand, the promise of a kiss in his eyes. Elain had always loved the kisses he deposited in her hands and cheeks, lips lingering on her skin to enjoy the squirm she thought he couldn’t notice. He did notice, every time. Cassian loved making her squirm, delighting in her little crush.

For the great shock of a nation, Cassian had not fucked Elain, but now that his brother was he wondered if he had missed some kind of swift opportunity. Elain wasn’t ugly, and it had been a long time since he found a match to his twisted sense of humor. What a delight it was that her sense of humor came wrapped in a package with a killer pair of legs, which should definitely be exposed more often. His look drift to her chest. She didn’t have much in that department but that didn’t matter much, he was more of an ass man anyways. No, Elain wasn’t ugly at all, and Cassian liked looking at her very much.

She could dress better, tho. He preferred his women with smoked eyes, sexy dresses, thigh slits and high heels. Women looked very fuckable in heels, all perched ass and tits pushing in his direction. He loved it.

Brown eyes sparkled with joy, a pretty smile blooming on her lips as she raised her hand. Except she did not place it in his expecting one, no. A harsh push forced him to the side, Azriel replacing him to take her hand, a light kiss landing on the back.

“You looked lovely.” He complimented taking her from the room. Not bothering to say goodbye to his brother, choosing to forget he existed all together.

"Good enough to eat?"

"Behave."

"Only 'cause you asked, love."

Contrary to Azriel, Elain had not forgot Cassian was there.

"We are going on a date!" She shouted back at him while Azriel walked faster to get her away from his brother. Cunning bastard.

Cassian watched her wrap her other hand around his brother’s flaccid biceps, smiling as she murmured softly to him. His expression faltered for a second. What was so funny about Azriel’s sad lack of mass muscle? Fixing his face, he jogged towards the couple, reaching them near the elevator, meddling in the middle to keep them apart, an arm around his brother and the other around Elain.

"Now this is a development I had not seen coming. Lainy, is this some kind of bet gone wrong? You can tell me if it is, as his boss I have the power to set you free."

"You are not my boss," Azriel pipped at the same time Elain said, "We are good."

Under his arm, Elain shrugged. Azriel breaking free to go stand at her other side, pulling her by the waist till she parted from Cassian.

“This makes no sense. You are two fight like dogs… Is little Azzy threatening you?” Cassian concluded at last. “Is that it? You can tell me if he is, I’ll beat his ass for you.”

Elain simple laughed.

"Please, like he could handle me. Did you know that my sister,"

"Is a professional MMA fighter." Azriel finished the sentence in her place, winning an ugly glare. "Yes, he knows, everybody knows. You've mentioned it. Several times."

“Meddlesome.”

“Broken record.”

“Maybe he didn’t know.”

“He knows.”

“How do you know? You’re not entitled to everyone’s knowledge.”

She bumped him with her hip, Azriel not moving an inch, and turned to Cassian.

"Anyway, your brother confessed his undying love for me, and how all that stress was his way of demonstrating affection. Like a little boy pulling the pigtails of the girl he thinks is pretty." She sighed deeply. "I knew my irresistible charms would get me in trouble someday."

"I'm right here." Azriel reprehended pulling her closer.

"Oh my, you are here, love? You are so pretty for a second there I thought you were a painting." She slapped him lightly on the cheek, Azriel grabbing her wrist on the second tap.

“No hitting.”

”Why? Is it that your kink?” She asked using a tone Cassian could not distinguish, as if she was sharing an inside joke with his brother.

The elevator doors opened, his existence completely forgotten by the couple bickering as they walked inside and off they went.

DAY 489

Had someone told him he would be outside his girlfriend’s apartment, making out against a door like a couple of fucking horny teenagers, he’d have called the bloke mad. Now here he was, being the mad man himself. One side of her overall had unbuttoned, the metallic piece rasping on the wood as Azriel pressed Elain harder against the door, two bodies merging together.

The goodnight kiss was supposed to be gentle, a tender caress to remember till he saw her again. Azriel would be gone for a couple days, and Elain insisted he walked her upstairs before he left.

“I’m not coming in,” he warned her back in the car.

“Just walk me to my door, that is.”

“I will. But I’m not coming in.”

“Gee, you said that. I just want to give you a proper goodbye,” she said with false innocence.

Liar.

Once upstairs she invited him inside again, but Azriel would budge.

“Fine. Can I at least get a kiss?”

He gave her a peck.

“Goodnight, Elain.” He said knowingly. Azriel called her by last name to annoyed her, a petulant childish trait that he seemed to have absorbed around her.

Determined hands wrapped around the lapels of his suit, Elain tiptoeing to tug him down.

“I wear black and white you think I'm a nun? Don’t you dare leave after giving me this slob sorry excuse of a kiss Azriel, or I swear to God –” Her empty threat was swallowed by a kiss.

Azriel wouldn’t admit to a soul, but riling her up was fun. Their breaths mingled in a slow and sloppy kiss, Azriel walking her backwards up till she hit her door, a painful hiss drowning on the slow sleek of his tongue. In the many days following their agreement Azriel and Elain had kissed many times, which had him quickly learning that she was a frenetic kisser, aggressive in her necessity to take the lead in a succession of hurried uncoordinated motions as someone who was ready to torn her clothes apart, moving too fast as she often did in every other aspect of her life.

Like a caveman first discovering fire, he enjoyed her enthusiasm with an intense amount of male pride burning in his chest. The problem was his body was still recovering from the aftermaths of a bad love. Until Elain, Azriel had only ever loved one woman in his life, had only ever been with her. Sure, he had been on a date here and there when things went south and they broke up for a few days of weeks. Pity-dates set by friends who could not understand why a twenty-something hadn't had a single girlfriend in his entire life, pity-dates set by worried familiars who secret thought him homosexual.

He remembered being set up with solid young women whose personalities were nearly a mirror of his own, having forgettable dates where he couldn't, for the life of him, recall what they talked about, kissing some of them goodbye with a lie ready on his lips that they should do it again. Tepid kisses that were closer to a handshake than caress between possible lovers. He went to bed with none of them.

Looking back, it was almost laughable how he caught Morrigan in an intimate act with another men more times than he liked to count but had never managed to move forward with another woman himself. Too hung up in a promise she had no interest in fulfilling. Now Azriel was done chasing a woman who had no love to give him, but his body was still fearful of getting with someone different, someone new.

He needed more time to adjust, time his volcano of a girlfriend seemed to not need at all. Tenacious hands found their way inside his jacket, running wild all the way from his hip to his neck, pressing him harder against herself, her soft breast rasping against his dress shirt with every move she made. So he had to educate her.

Where Elain was a trashing hurricane, Azriel was a placid running river, moving with deliberate slow and steadiness, guiding the kiss to a less hectic pace, leisured wet tongue kisses mingled with soft peck to stable his breathe, strong hands shaping the outside of her body without being too brazen, bold enough to soothe his curiosity in caressing her body but enough to blur the lines he wasn't ready to cross.

Hands moved to him front, trailing down from his chest to his waistline, closing precariously around his belt to get him closer. Azriel stopped the kiss, pulling away slightly. Blown-wild pupils had nearly encased the entirety of her irises, a breathless Elain looking up and expectant at him.

“I want to see you naked," she hushed. Quiet words spoken in a frenzy, a solid request with no shyness in the borders.

Despite his efforts to mellow the kisses, his heart thundered inside his chest. The feeling of soft curves molding perfectly to the hard shapes of his body making him dizzy. He collared her neck, not to choke, just to hold her in place.

“What would your neighbors say?"

Azriel meant to sound playful, calm. He sounded lustful and agitated.

Elain watched him like a hawk, searching his eyes for a bit, noting the tension in his shoulders, the uneasiness in his strained smile, a quiet tell for a question she would not ask. Not yet. With a yielding sigh, she hid her face in his chest.

"She’d probably thank you, that lady is a pervert,” came her muffled reply. “We could put on show for her.”

"Is that your kink? Exhibitionism?" His smugness could not be missed, Azriel feeling pretty proud of himself for the quick thinking. Elain had been antagonizing him about kinks for weeks, now it was his turn to make her hot and uncomfortable.

"Dunno. Wanna help me figure it out?" He groaned lordly. Of course she wouldn’t stay down. “I bet she’s more kinky, tho. Did you know she watches porn without headphones?” She lifted her head again, face soured by the memory. “We do not have good soundproofing walls, Marino. Sometimes I can hear it as I'm climbing upstairs!"

Azriel chuckled, moving his hand to her face, his thumb making circular motion in her cheek. Even at night Elain seemed to glow, her supple skin calling at him, begging for a stroke, for a touch, for a kiss. So soft and so, so,

“So pretty,” he finished out loud. The unsolicited compliment turning her face red.

She recovered quickly, fully leaning into his hand to say, “I’m prettier naked. Wanna see?”

“Out in the hallway?” He challenged mildly.

“Out in the hallways.”

“For everyone to see?”

“Eve-ry-one.” She said secured. “But mostly you.”

“You are confident."

“Maybe I am an exhibitionist.”

Azriel laughed quietly, cradling her face in both hands now, a kiss landing in her forehead. Having known Elain for over a year, Azriel has lost count of how many sexual innuendos he heard coming out of her mouth. He was mostly shocked at first, mildly annoyed later, and full-on done with them once Cassian joined the mix, an insufferable nasty match that could put hookers to shame. Then he asked her to date him, and Elain perverted agenda had seemed to find a new single target: him.

Azriel would have been caught by surprise had he not been so used to her being deliberately inappropriate. Elain wanted to have sex with him and would spare no efforts to make sure Azriel understood that, but Azriel was scare to correspond because he wasn’t sure of how his body would react with a new partner.

Truth be told, he was scare he would not react at all.

“I’m sorry.”

"If you apologize for that I'll feel like a predator." Elain grimaced, exhaling in defeat. "It’s all right, rain check on exhibitionism. This is actually a very good choice you know, I remembered I'm wearing an ugly beige bra."

Azriel gave her one last kiss.

“My favorite color.”

“You would, wouldn’t you? You do seem like a guy with a boring favorite color.”

DAY 500

Her shirt had been distracting him all afternoon. The darned thing wasn’t even a sexy one, just a simple white cotton t-shirt with a stupid drawing of potted plants having a conversation.

Azriel used her jeans belt loops to turn her around till her ass was pressed on the table "You are fun, but funny, tsk tsk. Funny is a big stretch."

His fingers dug in her in waist, cutting her cognitive abilities, stopping her from registering the insult. "Cute shirt."

Elain looked down on her white tee design, where two potted plants were having a conversation. One saying, "Aloe, how are you?", the other "Hey, long Thyme no see."

"Thanks."

He traced her lower lip, muttering. "No lipstick, today?"

Her tongue darted outside, meeting the pad of his thumb. "Didn't want to smear you."

"Glass walls. Office hours." Came his low warning.

The usually cool space of the meeting room now felt like a glass furnace, his body burning from the inside out.

"Technically, we are past office hours.” She countered with a sassy tone. “I'm friends with Marie, you know, the cleaning lady. She gave these glass walls an extra glow this morning, I can guarantee you'll find no germs in it. Now, if you wanna put some germs in it, I have a few ideas about what we could press there. Who. You. could press there. But I should warn you, the dress code suggestion may get a little skimpy."

There was no hidding his smile now, except he wasn't amused. His smile was wicked, smoldering hazel eyes hiding delirious promises. Azriel cleaned her saliva over her cheek, finding her neck. Before he could rip a page from her book and make a nasty suggestion of where to put her tongue next, knuckles rapped on the wall, a voice calling for him.

"Az."

Azriel blinked, relaxation morphing into anxiety. He didn’t recognize it at first. The voice that had not called him in a while. Her voice.

“Az?” She tried again.

Blood drained from his face. Azrriel didn’t move. Couldn’t move. The sound of clicking hills filled the unnatural silence, and he knew he could not escape any long. It would come any time now.

"Az... Azriel."

There it was. The trembling call, the crying in her voice. He withdrew from Elain completely, no wanting to soil her with the disgust leaking out of him. Taking a deep breath, Azriel faced Morrigan at last.

“Hi,” she said with trembling lips.

He didn’t greet her back. Didn’t bother too.

"Can we talk? Please. I really need to speak with you."

His heart beat faster. Beneath his skin a new kind of emotion began to shimmer, rageful and blinding, so overwhelming he didn't process Elain's soft "I'll give you a minute," didn't felt the comforting swipe of her hand on his back before she left them alone.

Elain left him and Morrigan stayed.

“I missed you. I’ve called and called and you did not answer me. You know I need you,”

Morrigan was talking.

Morrigan was talking to him.

Her mouth was moving and he had no fucking clue about what she was saying.

Azriel couldn’t listen to a single word, too busy watching her. Watching her meticulously painted cherry red lips. Not a smudge in place, not even when a tear slipped past her black-lined eye the red did not smudge. She remained perfectly put together. He followed the lonely tear all the way to her chin. From there, Azriel kept going, descending to the gold choker around her tanned neck, to the strapless blood red jumpsuit that left her arms and neck uncovered but protected everything else all the way to her ankles, finishing in the black stilettos that made no more noise because she hadn’t move an inch.

Azriel would have easily fell for it in the past. The watery eyes, the singular tear drop streaming down her cheek, the trembling lips to make sure each word came out a little shaky, just enough to make her look pitiful, careful to still enunciate them properly for him to understand every word.

Words he'd latch on, let it sink, let it drown him in guilt and misery and a feeling of longing for a relationship that never existed outside of his head.

Now that he didn't listen to her, Azriel saw her. Her well-manicured coffin nails, the sunglasses on top of her head, the lasted Dior jumpsuit draped over her body. Nothing in her posture or clothes showed a person suffering as she claimed to be.

Azriel saw Morrigan and it saddened him how easily it was to manipulate him.

To let himself be manipulated.

“Are you done?” His question was cold, cutting her sob story in half.

Morrigan sniffed, big brown eyes looking pitifully at him until she saw his resigned expression. His lack of will to entertain her. That's when her face changed, her real self breaking through the cracks of the insecure and pitiful persona she was trying to play. She looked at him regal and feral, Morrigan looked at him with the uttermost conviction that she could bring him back to her world in the snap of her fingers.

"Are you done?" she repeated back at him. Voice clear as water.

"I'm done with you."

"Stop this bullshit Azriel, we both know you don't have it in you." She pulled a small hand mirror from her purse, padding the area beneath her eye where a second tear was coming down. "I've entertained you long enough. It's time for you to go back to where you belong."

"And where would that be?"

"Beside me."

Azriel was stunned for a second. Then he was laughing, howling even. His laughter was a sad thing, carved from disbelief. He must have misheard her. Behind me, that's where she meant. Behind her, after her, pinning for her like a dog while she lived her life to the fullest not bothering to give a fuck about him. Azriel ran a hand over his hair to pull the edges hard, moving on to rub his face furiously. No, no, no. He wasn't doing this, he wasn't going to entertain her anymore.

Sharp nails carved a path on his forearm as he tried to pass by her, Morrigan grabbing him with all the strength she could must.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

"I'm talking, Azriel."

"I'm not listening, Mor."

Azriel held her stare, all the love he once felt turning into an ugly thing inside his chest. She held him harder, nails sinking deeper. Her voice reflecting every ounce of authority she deem to exercise over him

"I'm talking, Azriel. And you're listening."

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