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lovifie · 10 months ago

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Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 5: Home Sweet Home

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

Aprox 5k words

W: Captain Price x Reader x Kyle Garrick (the poly 141 is building).

“I honestly think this is an improvement from your flat.” Ghost comments leaving your bag on a chair. “It is sad, but it's true.”

And he is right. The safehouse you have been assigned to is not ugly, it is just… artificial. Decorated to look lived in, but you know it isn't. Photos of people you don't know on the walls, books you haven't read and blankets you can tell are going to be itchy. But no one can trace you back here.

Ghost drove you here, Price made Soap and Gaz stay with him to have a chat with them. Chat, you are glad to be able to avoid, at least for now.

The safe house is not too far away from the base, but still enough not to be linked to it. It is a nice neighbourhood, better than your last one, it makes you want to go for a walk.

“Try to always stay inside, alright?” Ghost tells you sitting beside you. He caresses your thigh looking at your face. “I know it sucks to be stuck inside, but this whole thing would lose its purpose if anyone sees you leaving or entering the house.”

“So I can’t never leave the house?” You ask looking down. His gloved hand still caressing your thigh, and your hands find their way to it, playing with the fabric of his glove.

“You can, just need to be careful. But never alone, unless it is an emergency. Please, if Price hears you are wandering around alone he'll have a stroke.” He chuckles, stops moving his hand and instead puts the palm up letting you play with his hand. “You should have seen him yesterday when he woke up.”

“Was it that bad?” You ask, guilt flooding your heart at the mental image of Price panicking because of you.

Ghost nods. “He thought that we were pulling a prank on him, that we have you hidden. He made us show him our room, and then he went to look all around the base. Until I showed him the security footage of you leaving he didn't stop looking around.”

“I feel like an asshole.” You admit, unable to look at him and focusing on your hands together with his. Your fingertips find their way inside the glove and you begin to caress the palm of his hand mindlessly.

“It was a pretty asshole move.” Ghost chuckles looking down at your hands. “But I can understand why you would do it, everyone else too. No one blames you for doing it, birdie. You know that, right?”

It is then that you notice the current situation, Ghost is sitting side by side with you. Thigh pressing yours, one of his hands is on your lap with your own hand inside his glove caressing his skin, feeling the warmth. His other arm is resting on the back of your chair, and his hand find its way to your jaw, caressing your cheek with his thumb and moving your head to look at him.

He is wearing a basic black balaclava, no paint around his eyes, and you can see his blonde lashes for how close he is to you. Unconsciously, you look to where you know his lips are and you notice movement under the mask, he is smiling. He sighs and presses his forehead with yours. “C’mon, birdie. I made a promise this morning, don't make me break it so fast.”

“A promise?” You ask curious as you look back to the hands on your lap.

“Yeah, to Price. You are not supposed to know it.” He chuckles. “I shouldn’t tell you.”

And you shouldn't push it, you should be nice. But you are nosy and he hasn't said no jet. So you look up to him, through your lashes and ask softly. “I won't say anything… please?”

He groans closing his eyes and pulls his head back looking ahead of you. “How can I say it?” He pulls the hand from behind your head to rub his face. “Price and I talked last night, about how since we met there has been an… attraction between all of us.”

“Okay.” You agree, feeling a light blush rise on your face.

“And we talked about how we did a poor attempt at having control over it. And how we basically jumped you, and that was wrong of us, like, you were literally handcuffed when you were with Gaz.” He says sighing, feeling embarrassed with himself. “And I definitely shouldn't have done it the way I did.”

“It's okay.” You admit, still unable to look at his face. “I didn't complain… wait.” You say finally looking up at him. “You knew Gaz and I were…”

“Humping each other like teenagers? Yeah, I noticed.” He says chuckling when he sees your shocked expression. “Birdie, I took the car for maintenance the next morning to check the car's suspension because of how many potholes and curbs I hit. And you think I didn't do it or purpose?”

You cover your face with your hands chuckling in embarrassment, Ghost hugs you from the side bringing you close to his chest making you feel the vibrations from his laughs. “Are you getting shy now, birdie?” He asks and you nod, unable to answer. He then gets close to your ear and whispers: “You weren't shy when I had my tongue up your ass.”

You shriek slapping his arms to get away making him laugh with his whole chest and when you manage to get up, he grabs your hips keeping you within arm's reach. “Let me go, I'm going to sleep.” You say trying to keep some kind of pride.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, was just playing.” He says standing up and hugging you again. “Just like how I played with your clit.”

“Shut up!” You exclaim, heating up, whether it is from embarrassment or something else, is not important right now. He laughs again and drops a kiss on the top of your head as a peace offering: “Go to bed, birdie. I'm sure you didn't get much sleep last night.”

You slap his arm one last time before walking down the hall, but he calls you again making you turn: “Take this, is a burner phone, so no one can track you through the phone. Price, Soap, Gaz and my number are already on. If you need to send anyone else a message or something, we will send it through your phone back at base, the antenna back at the base makes it impossible to track.”

You take the phone from his hand and slap your forehead when you see the time. “I need to call my boss!”

“About that, you don't have to worry about it. You are now on a witness protection system, so you actually can't just go. Price is going to talk to him, and he will figure it out. Price will take care of it, don't worry.”

You nod, not completely convinced, and after getting a kiss on your forehead you get inside the room, ready to sleep.

A couple of hours later, the clatter of pans and dishes wakes you up. You look at the time and realise you have slept almost all morning, so you stretch still on the bed, stand up, wash your face in the bathroom and make your way to the kitchen when you are met with Kyle's back.

“Morning.” You say smiling walking up to him. He whips around looking disproportionately scared by the situation and you look at him confused.

“Fuck sake, doll. We gotta get you a bell or something, almost shit myself.” He says with a hand on his chest and you laugh at him.

“That's what you get for being a snitch!” You exclaim putting your hands on your hips.

A perfect smile appears on his face that gets you weak on your knees, and he cups your face still smiling. Dammit, pretty boy. “I just couldn’t help it, luv. You look irresistible when you are flustered.” He says giving you a peck on your cheek. “Are you hungry? I brought you some groceries and bought you lunch.”

You look over his shoulder to check what he bought, and satisfied with his choice you bit the bait of his peace offering. “You are safe for now.”

The safe house is far from a mansion, but still, it is much better than your flat. More than one person can fit into the kitchen, there is a sofa and an armchair in the living room with a TV on a coffee table. Down the hall, there are two rooms and a bathroom with an actual bathtub inside. So yeah, a lot better than the old one.

Kyle and you have lunch on the sofa, and after you both stay seated basking in each other company. You can't help but stare at him and think about the first time you were close to him.

In just the last two days, you have grinded yourself against Kyle's dick, kissed and gotten yourself eaten out and fingered by Price, gotten your ass eaten and pussy fingered by Ghost and kissed and throat fucked by Soap.

Truly an interesting Tuesday.

It's not like you had never done those things before, but still, before them, it has always happened after a relationship was built and not in the order it happened that's for sure.

Fooling around with Kyle was rejuvenating, you are not even old, but still, it felt like fooling around with your first boyfriend. Horny enough to need to feel each other but not ready still to face the vulnerability of getting naked in front of each other.

With Price, he made you feel like a fucking goddess. As if he should be the one thanking you for eating you out. You could hear him moan against your cunt and there was not a centimetre of skin he didn't kiss that night. Such a soft way to make love it almost didn't make sense how nasty he make out with your pussy that night.

Simon was the opposite like a professor teaching a bratty student their place. Any of these men could have you on your knees begging if they put their mind into it, but Simon made you want to act up. Pull his string and step on his nerves. He left you so vulnerable, completely naked and exposed to him, and still, there was not a second where you didn't feel safe.

And Johnny. Oh, sweet, sweet Johnny. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him again. Something about the way he whined your name when you had only barely touched him, the way his pupils almost got a heart shape when you kneel before him.

But that little shit had a big mouth, not that he meant to cause harm, you know that. Unlike Gaz, the second little shit truly was striking for gold this morning. And now, he was sitting on the other side of the sofa, with your feet on his lap looking all innocent and completely unbothered by everything.

So calm.

It bothered you.

Little shit doesn't deserve peace and calm.

Little shit deserves a kick on his balls.

But just when you are about to, you remember his face last night when he saw you enter the mess hall, looking terrified and like a wounded puppy. He looked so worried, and he hugged you so warmly. So the kick doesn't arrive, instead, you plant the heel of your foot right on his crotch forcing a grunt out of him.

“Easy, luv” He says rubbing your ankles.

“You deserve worse.” You say looking at his face as you keep pushing around.

“Rude, why do you say tha-at?” He asks half moaning the last word.

“You were going to rat me out this morning.” You answer beginning to move your foot up and down his growing erection.

He closes his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa. “You just look so delicious when you are flustered, doll. Couldn't help myself, would you forgive me?”

“I'm not sure yet, I'm still deciding.” You respond, pressing with a bit more force on his tip earning a moan from his throat.

“Take all the time you need.” He mumbles as he starts to move his hips against your feet.

Confusion floods your brain for a second, Ghost couldn't even kiss you this morning because he had given his word to Price but Gaz was happily humping your feet for his satisfaction.

Did Price don't make him promise? No, that doesn't sound logical. Kyle was the one who started everything, Price must have made him promise more than everyone else. Kyle simply doesn't care about it.

Price won't like that.

If only Price got to know Gaz had broken his promise.

There it is, your kick on his balls.

Figuratively.

For now.

You sit up, removing your feet momentarily earning a whine from Gaz at the loss. He looks at you with a pout on his face, cheeky bastard. It only lasts until he sees you undo his belt, and then a boyish smile appears on his face.

He reclines with a smug smirk on his face and looks up to you as you get his growing boner free. You lick a thick strip of spit into your hand and start to stroke his dick slowly. You look at his face and he looks back delighted.

“If you treat me like this every time I bother you, I'm not stopping ever, luv” He says between whispered moans.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” You ask chuckling.

“When my mouth is busy.” He admits, licking his bottom lip and leaving his mouth half open so moans can slip easily.

“It's that so?” You ask, and with your free hand you raise your t-shirt exposing your tits with a little bounce that Gaz doesn't miss by the way his dick twitch in your hand.

“Fuckin’ hell, luv.” He says beginning to move his head, but you pull his hair back and pressed your tit against his head which he gladly begins to suck onto making you groan softly.

“Much better.” You sigh closing your eyes enjoying the feeling of his warm mouth against your nipple, you move your hand from his head down to his jaw caressing it and feeling the muscles of his jaw flex as he makes out with your boob.

Slowly and shamelessly, Gaz's hand find its way down your back. He doesn't bother to play coy, and as soon as the hand reach your waist, it goes under your pants and your underwear grabbing a handful of your ass cheek making you whine.

You press your thumb and index in his cheek, pressing between his teeth forcing him to open his mouth and say: “Play nice or I won't play with you, Garrick.”

He smiles at you as much as he can with his cheeks pushes and sticks his tongues out to lick your nipple. “Yes, ma'am.”

You could still kick him, literally. It would be faster and it'll probably erase the stupid smug smile from his face. But patience is a virtue.

So you shove his face against your boob again, and sigh when you feel his fingers travel down your lips. He moans when he feels your wetness just for your disgrace, the last thing you needed was to grow his ego. He slips them between your lips, gathering up the wet arousal pooling on your panties. He moves then to the front and begins to rub your clit with his fingertips.

There is precum leaking from his tip, and you bring your fingers up to press your thumb against his slip and circle it, smearing his precum around it, making him moan.

“Let's go to the bed, Kyle.” You half mumbles half moans.

“Let me just do it here, doll. Inaugurate the living room” He mumbles against your skin. You slap him on the back of his head and stand up.

“I'm planning on having most of my meals on this sofa, so get up.” You argue pulling his hand.

“If you are still hungry, I have something you could eat.” He jokes as he stands up, making you look at him with a grimace look on your face making him laugh.

“Don't ever say anything like that, Kyle. For god sake.” You say shaking your head as you walk your way to the room. You open the door and quickly take the rest of your clothes. You look back at Gaz who is looking at you a bit stunned and you chuckle. “I think it would make it a lot easier if you took off your clothes.”

He pulls his t-shirt from the back of his head throwing it somewhere, and gets rid of his clothes as he walks up to you. When he was almost bent over himself on the sofa, whining around your boob, it was easy to get confident and boss him around. Now, with both standing up and as he gets closer to you, you need to look up because of the size difference. He notices it too, how you start to speak softer and your expression is kinder.

He chuckles to himself, positioning his hands under your arm and effortlessly throws you back on the bed, crawling over you instantly. You try to sit up, leaning on your elbows but a firm hand on your chest gets you flat on the bed soon.

You look up to him and see him cock his head like a dog. “What?” You ask and it makes him smile with that fucking toothpaste ad smile. “There it is, I thought you lost your voice. You went silent so suddenly.” He teases.

“Oh, shut up, Kyle.” You say chuckling and pinch his nipple making him chuckle as well. For a second you stay chuckling, looking at each other and enjoying the opposite company. Until suddenly it feels a bit too intimate, and almost at the same time, you make eye contact feeling shy regardless of the lack of clothing.

So you cup his face with both hands and pull him close kissing him on the lips. If he can’t see the affection in your eyes, he can't accuse you of anything.

He caresses your hip, drawing circles with his thumb as he slowly reaches your mount and you slightly spread your legs involuntarily.

“Eager little thing.” He mumbles against your lips smiling, and you bite back: “I can feel you leaking onto my thighs, Kyle. Don't get cocky.”

He chuckles under his breath and without more preamble one of his finger finds his way inside your cunt as he uses the palm to rub your clit making you moan. Wet kisses travel down your throat when you move your hands to the back of his face, his finger’s movement becoming faster and not for long before a second one finds his way inside as well. You lower one of your hands to rub his erection against your tights, feeling the wet spot at his tip growing.

Fuck does it feel good to be desired.

Little moans of your name leave Kyle's mouth against your neck giving you goosebumps and causing you to squirm in his hand needy of more.

“Kyle… please” You moan throwing your head back.

“Not yet, doll. I wanna see you come as prettily as you did on the car again before I get my dick inside this little tight cunt.” He groans against your cheek.

You moan at his crude words arching your back, twisting your face to kiss him. Teeth clashing in the process, but too desperate to care. The band on your stomach snaps almost surprising you, and for a second you can hear your ears ring. Kyle’s hand is still rubbing your clit, but almost like a feather now helping you ride out your orgasm.

You make eye contact with him, checking on you to see if you are alright and when he is satisfied he sits up, pulling you closer circling your legs around his slim waist and palms his erection; rubbing your clit with his tip. “Are you all right, luv? Need another second?”

“Fuck me already, Garrick” You tease propping yourself up on your elbows.

Kyle smirks at you and slowly enters his dick stretching you out; he leans down closer to your face and you both moan on each other mouth as he enters. Slowly enters, and then draws back, just to enter a bit more. Little by little, as he kisses your mouth passionately. Your hands on his back slightly scratch his skin making him groan softly between moans, his tongue enters your mouth caressing your own.

This all started as a way to get Gaz in trouble, but honestly, you are starting to hope it doesn't work. Just so you have to try again.

“Fuck, doll. Such a sweet lovely cunt” He mumbles, already losing his mind, punctuating each word with a roll of his hips. “Sucking me in so fucking nice.”

It shouldn't turn your own as much, such crude words, but you are not really thinking clearly and every word that leaves Gaz’s mouth is like a compliment to your core that makes you clench against his dick.

“Do you like that, doll?” He asks against your neck dropping little open mouth kisses. “Hm? When I tell you how fucking godly you feel, luv?”

“Yes, fuck, yes” You moan back, curling your legs and pushing him closer, wanting him to go deeper as if you were not feeling him up to your cervix already.

His hand found its way down to your clit, circling it with his fingertip, making you meowl at the sudden extra stimulation. You can feel your orgasm approach, and you open your eyes to look at Kyles's face.

But when you open your eyes, the first thing you see is Price leaning against the doorframe; cigar in hand, a disapproving look on his face and a formidable hard erection on his pants. You lock eyes with him, a shameless smile creeping in and making Price shake his head with a similar smile on his face.

The focus quickly moves back to Gaz when he starts to thrust more shallowly, rubbing your clit quickly. “Cum for me, please. I wanna feel you come around me, please, please, doll, please.” He moans against your skin, and completely ignoring Price's presence, you come undone in harmony with Gaz.

Little black dots blur your vision for a second because of the surprising pleasure, almost missing the way Gaz moans your name we come undone following you. You are not sure if you are seeing or imagining when you see Price walk out of the room, and when you try to raise your head to see you come face to face with Gaz. “You okay, luv?” He asks with heavy breathing looking at your face and smiling.

You nod at him smiling, simmering in the afterglow of your orgasms. Only breaks away when something drops next to your head on the bed.

Gaz and you turn to look at Price who is now standing behind Gaz. “Shit.” Gaz mumbles trying to peel away from you, only for Price to press a hand on his back pushing him back against you making you both groan since Gaz is still inside you.

“No, no, please, don't stop on my behalf. I wouldn’t like to bother you.” He says dryly, no vestige of humour in his voice.

Gaz looks at you, making eye contact for a second until both of you turn to look at whatever it was that fell next to you, and when you see the lube bottle it finally sinks in what the two of you have just done.

Both of you quickly try to look at him, kind of guilting the other to not get the short side of the stick. “Settle down you pair of brats.” Price says, he sits on the back of Gaz’s thighs, pressing him deeper making both of you softly moan again. He uncaps the bottle, pouring a fat blob of it in his fingers and pulling Gaz’s hair back making him arch his back once he throws the bottle back. “Unlike this brat, I’m not gonna fuck you, birdie. But the two of you put on such a show that has me in need of some… release.” He says while he caresses Gaz’s hole with his fingertips, getting through the muscle ring as he enunciates the last word.

“Shit, Captain…” Gaz moans, feeling your cunt clench when you feel his dick twitch back to life for a second time. “Don’t “Captain” me now, Kyle. What about your truce? Did any of my words get to your head or was all your blood down on your dick when I was talking to you?”

Gaz is not the only one getting the reprimand, a new cocktail of feelings is developing inside you. There are some hints of shame, the shame of getting caught mid-orgasm, the shame of Price barely acknowledging you at all, and the shame of feeling like you are intruding on whatever arrangement they had before you came into the picture. Again, the little self-aware thoughts that permanently reside in your mind appear, making you aware of the situation.

A loud moan from Gaz brings you out of it before they can materialise, and you come face to face to the fuck out face of Price after bottoming inside of Gaz. Having sex with Gaz was gentle, with more roll of hips and deep thrusts; but Price? He is obviously annoyed with the both of you, and his hard and fast thrusts are proof of it.

You can feel Gaz’s dick hardening inside you stretching you again. And even though he isn’t physically pulling in and out, Price's thrust forces his hips to roll against you giving you a delicious constant stimulus both inside and against your clit. That, joint with the fact that Gaz is moaning in such a filthy way against the skin of your neck quickly has you moaning in tandem with him. Bitting your lips to quiet them, feeling like they are not wanted, like you are just collateral damage to Price and Gaz's little get-together.

You force your eyes close when you feel Price look at you, he furrows his eyebrows when he notices you looking uncomfortable. Are you not enjoying it? Why do you turn away from him?

He switches his rhythm, caressing Gaz’s hips with a hand and bending down to cup your face with the other. He grazes your bottom lips freeing from your bite and drops his thumb inside your mouth making you lick it. He drops down to your ear to whisper: “Don't run from me, sweetheart. Not again, please.”

He raises his hand on Gaz's hips to hug him on his chest, pulling him close to him, and biting him on his shoulder. With what little space that earns Gaz, he begins to move between you and Price, earning a moan from everyone in the room.

It is such a filthy scene, so porn-worth, still, there is such a palpable sense of care from everyone involved. Fuck, the moment they get bored of you it's going to hurt like a bitch.

“I can't!” Gaz moans, the overstimulation getting the best of him. Poor boy getting his prostate destroyed and his dick milked at the same time. You can't barely manage yourself, you pity him. But again, that's what he gets for snitching.

“Yes, you can. And you will.” Price moans against his neck, and at the same time he drags his hand down your body just to rub your clit causing a chain reaction when you clench for the reaction, causing Gaz to groan and clench as well.

Is not much longer until you feel Gaz finish inside you for a second time, drooling against your shoulder skin while he hugs you needy of something to ground him. You quickly hug him back when you feel yourself spilling over the edge, and just a couple of seconds later Price finishes as well inside of Gaz.

He drops himself over the two of you earning a groan from you for being squished by both men, but you only get a chuckle in return from the both of them. “At least like this, we know you aren’t going to go running again.” Gaz murmurs against your skin only for you to hear, warming your heart.

“The two of you are gonna give me a headache, I just know.” Price mumbles kissing his bite mark on Gaz’s shoulder while making eye contact with you. “Get washed, dressed and come down to the living room. We have a little meeting the five of us.”

When he goes to sit up, you quickly grab his shirt pulling him close and ask softly. “Can we stay like this for a little more, please?” The neediness and clinginess being too hard to ignore.

Kyle and Price look at you as if you are the most precious thing on the whole planet and quickly nod going back to the weird body pile you were on. “Yeah, of course we can.”

Heyaa, how are you? 💗

Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗

Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best

Taglist: @pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline @shadowtfpcod @infpt-zylith @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3 @tooloudarts @dontworryboutitokie @cassiecasluciluce @sodavrr @missmidnight-writes @anirok2

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yujisgirl · 11 months ago

Text

Yuji NSFW Links / Visuals ᥫ᭡

... with short fics <3

These are real ns//fw links btw! Human bodies etc not animated! Need to be signed into Twitter/X to see these videos ♡

These stories happen in chronological order! ... ! afab reader

Next: Toji + Choso + Gojo + Nanami + Shiu + Sukuna + Higuruma... so stay tuned!

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 Toji's Visuals: Click Here ❤︎

"Come over to my place after school?"

was all you told your highschool boyfriend, Itadori yuuji. It was supposed to be a little hang out; especially since exams had just been over and you both had missed each other so much.

Needless to say, you guys definitely "caught up" ...

Highschool boyfriend Yuuji!

જ⁀➴

"Does this look good on me?"

You definitely used this mall date as an excuse to rile yuji up even more. He's sure of it. Why else would you be picking the skimpiest swimsuits to "try on" - you're not even part of the swim team!

As soon as you guys left the mall, he grabs your arm and brings you over to an alley, "Need to fuck this hole before we leave"

In public with Yuji

જ⁀➴

"Do you want your present now?"

you said . Yuji tilts his head in confusion, his graduation cap threatening to fall of his pink hair as he raises his wrist, dangling the bracelet you had just gifted him, "Isnt this your present?".

"I have another one you know" You gesture to the Love Motel just down the street.

Your graduation gift to Yuuji

જ⁀➴

"I love you. I love every part of you"

The first time yuji had said "I love you" was when you came to visit him in college. The pain of being away from you only heightened his desires and needs. He needs you, not just in a sexual way but in every part of his life, through and through.

He worships every inch of your body

જ⁀➴

"Lets test our new bed, yeah?"

Maybe it was the adrenaline of finally moving in with yuji, Maybe it was the stress build up from the moving process but as soon as the land lord left your new house you guys were onto each other like animals.

You tested the firmness of every single furniture you bought. The bed, the new sofa, the kitchen counter, the beanbag that you got from Yuji's old house, and of course the balcony.

Testing beds with Yuuji

Testing beds Part 2.

જ⁀➴

"Is this why you wanted to move in together?"

you giggled. "Fuck." Yuji was too pussy drunk to even form a coherent reply, "m'you feel so good. Wanna live in this pussy forever"

Morning's with Yuuji

જ⁀➴

"Im reading right now"

you said.

Yuji pouts.

Shit. Thats your soft spot.

"Fine, you win."

જ⁀➴

"Babe, you really shouldnt wear that around me"

yuji's eyes werent even looking into yours, he was staring right at your boob window.

"Why?" You questioned.

"Makes me wanna suck on your tits" He deadpanned, eyes tracing the curves of your breasts.

"Whats stopping you?"

જ⁀➴

"Good job baby"

was all you said. Really.

How were you supposed to know that it would result in a marathon of rounds with Yuji?

He finally got recognised as a Jujutsu sorcerer by the elders, and you couldnt be more happy for your boyfriend. You expected him to come home with tears in his eyes, or something but no- he came home and went straight to your room, "Baby, I need to fuck you"

Is it his fault that youre all that plagues his mind night and day, and when he experienced emotions in a grand scale, he immediately gets horny?

Maybe you're all he needs

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crypticminx · 11 months ago

Note

I need rough sex Felix (maybe with a breeding link?!) but then he’s sweet and caring after :)

Ughhh you got it angel!! Ask and u shall receive <3 I’m not sure if I got the sweet and caring part nailed but :0

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Thunderous sounds of music blared throughout the festively decorated home, causing chaos between the shared drinks amongst all the happy partygoers. One could only hope they don’t wake up with painful headaches and sore ears, but that seemed like a tomorrow problem.

Catton house parties taken place at the luxurious castle were no disappointment and lived up to be the most thrilling event of year.

However, there was a certain host who was missing in action.

Bathroom door locked and shut to its full extent, Felix blocked out any sort of comotion happening outside as his full attention was laid on you. There were a few aggressive knocks followed by shouting for whoever was in there to hurry up, but the two of you didn’t care. If someone wanted to hurl the alcohol that didn’t sit well with their foolish decisions, they would have to resort to another option.

You looked far too delicious for him to carry you all the way up the long, dwelling staircase that lead to his bedroom—resulting in some quick action and a subtle drag into a nearby bathroom. It wasn’t the picture perfect scene for a quickie, empty beer bottles messily scattred on the countertop and white traces of powder on the sink, but you both worked with what you were given.

“Jesus,” he quietly moaned, loud enough for you to hear with all the chaotic noise. Forcefully pulling your head back to where his lips were waiting for another passionate kiss. His tongue collided with yours as the two of you became inseparable of unlocking your driven stamina. He could still smell the faint scent of your floral perfume, and with no shame, he moved his salivating lips onto your neck. Marking it with as many love bites possible, hoping they would show in full force tomorrow as a result of what the two of you got up to.

“Dress,” his voice was muffled from the contact that was his mouth with your neck, “off, now.”

He demanded with such assertiveness, you could feel your tiny thong growing wet with delight.

“Yes sir,” you bit your lip, knowing that your once neatly applied lipstick was all smeared because of his doing.

His hands fumbled as they undid the sheer dress he picked out for you, pulling it with as much care possible, trying not to ruin or strain it. If it was his way, he would rip it to shreds till you’d be naked.

“And these,” he trailed slowly to your thong, “though they’re so sexy, they’ve got to go, darling.”

He was so impatient—frantic even, not fully undressing himself. Only undoing his belt and pulling his jeans and boxers in unison, his long hard cock fully on display. Aching to go inside of you with full force.

He lifted your naked body onto the sink, letting you sit with your legs spread out. He eagerly thrusted into you, hearing you let out your first of many whimpering moans, the ones that made him never want to stop.

“Felix,” you tried not to melt as he inched his way further, toes curling as your legs wrapped around his legs that stood on the ground. You pulled him closer, digging your nails slightly into his back as your signal for wanting him to not hold back.

Lustful groans erupted from his hoarse voice, his cock twitching to no end once he felt your warm inner walls start to become more wet. He forced you deep into the crook of his neck, as you felt the heat from the exposed parts of his body latch onto yours, a warm sensation. You rode his dick to the best of your ability while sitting on the cold sink, breasts bouncing up and down in perfect harmony.

However, he was the one in charge.

In between pants, he huffed, “look s’fuckin beautiful tonight, baby.” Loving every moment that he embraced your pussy practically sucking on his gliding cock.

You inched yourself away from hiding in his chest, wanting to see his sweaty face as he made fiery love to you.

“But you’d look so much better if I filled you up..”

You clenched harder, finding it hard to speak when he knew what he was doing to you. You were on the brink of an orgasm, feeling shockwaves of pleasurable vibrations as his erection grew mad with every pounce.

“Gonna cum in me,” you dangerously teased to the best of your abilities.

And with using your pretty hypnotic voice, something in him snapped—and for a better word, released his senses to heatedly turn more rough. Dying to not let a single drop go to waste inside of you.

Roughly grabbing your hair with his fingers as you felt your head pour into a different direction. He yanked you to no avail, all with a devilish smile.

“M’gonna fill you up so good, princess,” he breathed. “So good that next time everyone here sees you, you’ll be pregnant with my baby.”

“Please,” you blurted out, begging for him to cum in you, while internally you failed to let yourself hold back. Coating his cock, which was still deeply in the depths of you, with your orgasm.

It was sinful the way he seductively declared what he wanted to do to you, but you pleasured every heated moment of it.

Heavily breathing while he waited, Felix couldn’t stand another second more, he jerked himself into you one last time, filling you up with all his delectable cum in a matter of seconds.

You both savoured the feeling of getting each other off before the haze of needy desire wore off. Love, however, was still in the air. He swung a towel off the hanger, cleaning you up first, making sure you weren’t stained with something somebody else need to see.

He was slow and patient while stroking your thighs with the fabric. when you finally made your way out of your position from sitting, he lovingly grabbed you, kissing the top of your head as he took you in.

Noticing that your dress and other belongings were still placed on the floor, Felix bent down, breaking free from your embrace to pick them up.

“Wouldn’t want anyone to see you with out this, hmmm,” he beamed, eyes twinkling as he helped you in dressing yourself.

Though you always had the most mind blowing sex, you felt tonight it was somehow cut short.

“Maybe I can take it off later again?” You purred, seeing his face grow wide with plenty of ideas.

He caressed your face, fingers gliding on your red, sweaty cheek that still made you look as beautiful as ever.

“Oh,” he paused for a mere second, “I’m not gonna stop till you’re actually pregnant.”

#halpppp #I need him #saltburn #felix catton #felix catton x you #felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #jacob elordi #saltburn 2023 #felix catton smut #felix catton fanfic

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encasedinobsidian · 5 months ago

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smalltown shit

Charlie Swan x fem!reader [explicit, 18+]

Summary: "You’re a little young, aren’t you?” he asks, and it isn’t with a scowl but it’s something of the sort, a narrowing of his eyes and a dryness to his voice. It’s no better than a scowl anyway, his skepticism like a concrete wall between the two of you under the dim lights of the bar where Charlie is stuck with you, just where you want him. Warnings: 3.4k ish words. Porn with minimal plot, implied age gap, unprotected PIV, oral sex, truck sex, alcohol, pining, no use of y/n. This was written a bit fast lmfao A/N: This is my first ever Charlie Swan fic! It started as a joke (just like they all do), but I thought it might be fun to do something different. In case you enjoy my writing and want to see more, here are links to my ao3 and to a heavily Charlie inspired Narcos fanfic I wrote recently :)

Wearing a man down takes a while. It takes patience, a steady effort, bit by bit, like the thick clouds covering the sky above the evergreens only letting down a single drop of rain at a time. Charlie doesn’t notice them at first — the little droplets of water he’s too used to from living in Forks, rain that might let up for a little while in July but comes back every time, like something he can count on if nothing else in this world.

They land on his jacket, on his badges, on his nametag — C. Swan in yellow lettering — on the black strands of his hair. One by one, they seep in, quickly forgotten, followed by more until the windshield wipers on his police cruiser push away the onslaught of rain that’s inevitable at this time of year, on a foggy, hazy October evening when the headlights of the car light the way to his house, and he’s already drenched when he makes his way inside and changes out of his uniform.

They land on the thick flannel of a jacket that always hangs in his hallway, the house empty when he locks the door behind him and runs to his truck. The rain gets on his jeans, on his hair, it gets on the Mariners sweater underneath his jacket. The lettering across his chest reveals itself when he takes off the flannel and hangs it over the back of the chair he sits down on, nodding towards his friend at the bar.

His eyes scan the room from corner to corner, lazily combing through the other patrons of the bar until he spots you and you lock eyes. And you’re frozen, your friends’ voices becoming a buzzing murmur next to you as you try not to move, try not to startle the man whose attention you’ve pathetically yearned for, for so long, longer than you’ll ever admit to the girls at your table, or even to yourself.

You have it now, for a moment that stretches like a ring in your ear, long enough for your lips to part, for you to swallow tightly around the fizzy, sweet sip in your mouth, to lick the drop that slides down your bottom lip. His gaze is as intense as it is dark, piercing through the crowd of people in a small bar in a place that nobody can place on a map, where you think it must just be a hallucination or that he’s looking at someone behind you.

But behind you is a window, and behind the window is nothing but a cover of trees, and his eyes flash open for a split second before they narrow, then trace down, only a quick glance at your torso before they slide back up. He clears his throat, swallows, and averts his eyes, attention caught by the beer set down in front of him. He nods and says something, then takes a sip, a little hastily, inhaling deeply before he leans back.

And then, there is nothing to do but to look and to wait.

Nothing to do but wait until he begins to feel those drops of attention, of glances and gazes from your end of the room. He’s not chief Swan under this roof — he’s Charlie, he’s a man in his early forties, he’s a single dad whose daughter came to stay with him recently. He’s a man with dark eyes and dark eyebrows, with a thick mustache and a gorgeous smile you know he hides. Maybe it’s rude to spy, but you’ve had no other real option — a chronically good girl from the start, never acknowledged by any of the Forks PD officers, scurrying away from house parties at the first flash of a blue light, out through the yard and home to your parents’ house.

You haven’t gotten any attention from him since returning to your hometown either, coming back after nearly a decade away, still a goody two shoes through and through who doesn’t leave the house after darkness settles in the streets. So all you have is random encounters, one-sided as they’ve all been, random sightings in bars and across the street, at a restaurant next to his daughter. And he’s always quiet, always observing his environment without interaction.

Until now, when it all seems to shatter in an instant, and his usual, calm demeanor is replaced by something flustered, maybe even nervous if you dare to think so. He takes to laughter a little too quickly, he smiles too much, nods along too enthusiastically when Billy speaks to him on his left.

You can’t hear anything, regretfully — the rain drums on the window beside you and slides down to obscure the view of the forest that the bar is situated on the outskirts of. Your friends talk about something, something about nothing about guys or work or God knows what it is this time. Your elbows rest on the table and the top of a plastic straw sits between your lips as you slowly sip your drink.

Sometimes he looks over, following the same routine every time as the hour passes; a lull in the conversation, a polite smile, his eyes sliding down to the table, a glance up, and then his head turning slightly, eyes shifting in your direction until they meet yours and he quickly dodges the attention, straightening his back and clearing his throat.

Once, and only once, he lingers.

He lets his eyes narrow, focusing on you while you pretend to look away. And he shouldn’t fall for little tricks like this, silly little girl tricks meant to dupe men much younger and dumber than himself, but he’s only a man, isn’t he?

So it shouldn’t be surprising that, when his friends excuse themselves to go outside for a smoke or to the bar for another round, he leans back and remains seated. And there is no other time but the present, so without excusing yourself, you suck down the rest of your drink, let the bottom of the glass slam against the tabletop, stand up and walk over to him.

You take a seat across from him and hold out your hand, your name the first thing out of your mouth and a firm handshake given when he reaches out.

“Charlie,” he says, and the nervousness you saw earlier must be nothing but an illusion.

“Charlie,” you repeat, a little softer and a little sweeter, “How’s your night going?”

“It’s alright.” God, he’s dry. If you were drunk, you’d make a joke about how wet it makes you. “And yours?” he asks.

“Pretty good. Better now.”

He breathes a laugh and looks around, presumably trying to figure out where you came from, but there are no answers in a bar full of people looking the other way.

“Haven’t seen you around,” he says, “Are you from out of town?”

“Nope, from here. I was gone for, say, eight years getting my degrees, though.”

“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow, and you indulge him for a little while, answering questions you can’t tell if he’s asking as a father or a man, questions that come from the same place anyway, things he’d ask a young lady as you bet he’d say, to make small talk when he’s forced to.

It’s not very interesting, but you can’t scare him off either, can’t plop down into his lap and touch his hair and beg for it. It’s a slow process with a man like him, one that takes patience, and little droplets of attention, a splash of flirting here and there, every question back and forth, about school and work and yada yada smalltown shit. It’s like the raindrops seeping into the fabric of his jacket, unnoticeable until it reaches his skin and he’s soaked, a humidity that clings to him, and fog he disappears in.

You glance up at the door and see his friends at a different table.

Time ticks by, and Charlie is dry as ever, regardless of how pathetically you try to squeeze your chest together and lean onto the table between you, regardless of how you try to nudge him with the glossy, heeled boot on your foot. He doesn’t budge, he might offer you a smile in response to a fun story but it’s not getting you anywhere.

It’s time to be aggressive, and when there’s a lull between you, when the bar is still buzzing with chit chat and the lights are still low, you pounce.

“Are you seeing anyone these days?” you ask.

The man looks like he wants to laugh. “Uh—” he clears his throat, “No, not right now.”

“Interesting,” you purr, tilting your head to the side and flashing him a smile. “Best news I’ve gotten all day.”

He huffs. “You’re a little young, aren’t you?” he asks, and it isn’t with a scowl but it’s something of the sort, a narrowing of his eyes and a dryness to his voice. It’s no better than a scowl anyway, his skepticism like a concrete wall between the two of you under the dim lights of the bar, and Charlie is stuck with you, just where you want him.

So you shrug one shoulder and smile, pushing your lips together before they separate, and his eyes are on them so fast that it’s not even funny. “I wouldn’t say so,” you say as you shake your head.

He almost seems humored, huffing a laugh as he looks around the room and shakes his head. “What about your friends?” he asks, “They don’t miss ya?”

“Probably not,” you whisper, scrunching your nose at him. “Does it look like they do?”

You nod towards the table by the windows and his eyes follow, a quick look over at a group of girls all leaning in towards each other in conversation.

“Guess not,” he says, in the same flat tone of voice.

He clears his throat again, and his rejection is imminent, you think, so you try again, one last time.

“You’re very handsome, Charlie.” Your chin rests on your knuckles, head tilted, eyes sweeping over his face like you have nothing to lose, and he might be able to hide his thoughts, but he can’t hide his fluster.

“Thanks,” he mutters and averts his eyes, looking at nothing in the corner of the room. “You’re not, uh—” He looks up and spins his mostly-empty glass around, “Not too bad yourself.”

It’s a little bit like pulling teeth.

“Thank you,” you say, then chew on the inside of your cheek while you try to think up a way to get him out of where he’s stuck, unwilling to make a move. “Could you— could you give me a ride home?”

He rolls his eyes and nods, downing the last of his beer, and he absolutely thinks he has you figured out. His expression seems to default to a scowl, and it’s only then that you realize how cheerful he looked a moment ago. “Alright,” he groans, then mutters something under his breath while he grabs his jacket. “Let’s go.”

“Thank you, officer,” you beam, jumping up and following him through the bar, heading towards the exit.

He opens the door and lifts up his jacket to hold it above you, shielding you from the onslaught of rain pouring down when you step away from the awning outside the bar. Golden light shines out from the stained glass window in the door, bathing him in it as he waits for you to take the step you don’t take.

“I don’t actually need a ride home,” you admit shyly, looking up at him, “I’m just messing with you.”

He blinks a few times and his eyes shift around as he breathes. “Alright, why did you get me out here then?”

A laugh breaks out of you as you ask, “It’s not obvious?”

His brows pull together and he begins to shake his head when you roll your eyes, grab the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss. And it could be a mistake, but it doesn’t quite feel like it when his hand finds your hip and he pulls you a little closer, reciprocating the kiss and carefully giving you his tongue.

He pulls back quickly, looking side to side, “Let’s—”

“Your truck?”

“Sure, yeah,” he mumbles, and you hurry towards the only red vehicle at the far end of the lot, with Charlie on your heels and the rain beating down on his jacket above you, on his hair and his shoulders, soaking him by the time he steps in front of you and pulls open the passenger door.

He barely gets inside before you grab the collar of his sweater and pull him in, spit smearing and groans swallowed as you climb onto his lap. He’s hard already, you can feel the thick of his zipper pushing up between your legs, before he even gets his hands on the bunched up fabric of your skirt piled onto your hips, kissing you again. And he lets his palms slide down over it, onto your ass, giving you a tentative squeeze with firm hands, while he grows thicker, harder, little grunts slipping out of him when you roll your hips over that firm bulk, every pass over it smearing wetness into your panties.

Until it’s too much, and the truck is too hot, too humid. You throw off your jacket, toss it into the passenger seat and pull away from him, climbing back into your seat, only on your knees, and begin to work at his belt.

You feel a hand at your shoulder, pushing gently. “You don’t—” he inhales deeply as he shakes his head, “You don’t have to do—”

Your hands pause at the top of his pants and you peer up at him with a pout. “But I want to,” you say, “Can I?”

His head hits the back of his seat with a sigh, his eyes closing as he breathes in again and nods. “Yeah,” he whispers, “Yeah.”

He helps you with his belt then, undoing it with unsteady hands and lifting his hips when you pull the bunch of his pants and boxers down to reveal his cock, to see the thick length of it, the hair at his base and below his navel. You take it into your hand before he has the chance to say much of anything, and you feel his hand at the back of your neck, brushing your hair away — nothing obstructing his view as you drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft, all the way up to the tip where a bead of precome spills onto your lips.

He groans then, pushes down the top of his pants a little more and lets you take him into your mouth, his cockhead sliding into the back of your throat while he curses under his breath. Your spit smears over his crown and runs down his length, into the curve of your hand to let you stroke him, and every lick, every pull of your lips, makes him sigh and groan, makes more of his precome seep out onto your tongue for you to taste it, for you to swallow and let the soft wet of your mouth massage him.

And you think it must have been a while, because you suck and stroke his cock slowly for only a little while before he begins to mumble. “I’m getting, uh— I’m pretty close,” he says, and you pull off of him, still slipping your hand up and down his wet cock while you raise up and kiss the side of his neck.

He groans then too, grimacing a little.

“You want to fuck me, Charlie?” you purr, “You want me to ride you?”

He huffs a laugh like he’s surprised. “I don’t have any condoms on me,” he says, his voice flat and dry as it ever was, but a little deeper, raspier, rougher-edged.

“You could just pull out?” you suggest, licking a stripe up his neck just to feel the goosebumps chasing your tongue on his skin, “I could just swallow it instead.”

“Jesus,” he breathes, “Yeah... Alright.”

You pull off one boot and begin to yank at the waistband of your leggings, but he pats his thigh and pulls you back onto his lap.

“Let me,” he says, pushing his thumb under the soft fabric and the strap of your panties, pulling them down over your leg, only bothering with one and not the other, while the rain hammers down on the windshield and it’s silent for a moment, his hands steady and his gaze focused. His cock is still hard too, heavy as it lays against his stomach.

You stabilize above him, hovering over where he grabs the root of himself and glides his tip through your folds until he reaches your opening.

“Down,” he says, and you do as he tells you to, sinking onto his cock with a deep breath, pressing your lips to his so that your sigh is shared, letting the whole thing split you open, taking more and more until your hips are flush with his and he grunts, his cock pulses, you lean back and carefully lift up, then roll back down, slowly riding him, half kissing, half panting into him.

It’s all slow, deep, squeezing around him, letting him slide out until only his tip stays within, and then taking him back inside and he pushes into your cervix, sure to leave you sore tomorrow. Everything is wet between you, smeared warm and sticky over your inner thighs, his groin, dripping down his shaft and over his balls, soaking into the top of his jeans.

His cock pushes into the most sensitive, soft part inside of you, over and over, rubbing over it while you reach down to massage your clit, still swapping spit like you’re teenagers and he doesn’t have a decade on you. He twitches inside when you moan for him, groans low and rough when you begin to come and you ride him a little harder, faster.

He grabs your ass, lifts you just enough to get leverage, and starts to fuck you, pushing his face into the side of your neck and grunting into your skin, hot and sweaty at the roots of his hair when your run your fingers through it, trying to find something to hold onto, to stabilize when he hits just the right spot and you feel seconds away from unraveling. And the truck must be shaking, the sounds of your moans are only stifled by the sound of the rain tapping on the roof and sliding down the windows, the dark surroundings of a wet parking lot, the two of you tucked away at the very back while you feel every inch of him filling you, rubbing you, making you come once more.

Until he grunts a little louder, until he pants, “Fuck, I’m about to come—”

You let your orgasm wane with a few slow rolls, savoring them, so few drags of his length inside that you can count them on one hand, and you lift off, climb over on shaking legs, sticking your bare ass up towards the foggy window and slip his wet cock into your mouth. A firm hand around his base, your tongue licking over his head, you suck him until his breath stutters and he releases hot spurts of come that you swallow while you stroke and tease and take every drop he gives you.

He’s quiet after that, a careful hand on your back while you lick up the last smears of his orgasm and lay your cheek on his thigh, looking up at him.

“Did you like it?” you ask.

“Of course I liked it. Did you like it?”

“Yeah.”

He looks out of the window, his cock softening against him while he runs a hand over your hair. “Let me take you to dinner or something,” he says after a minute, “Make me feel less… I don’t know, sleazy?”

You bite your lip and smile. "Will you drive me home after?”

He rolls his eyes and takes in a deep breath, catching your gaze with a smirk on his lips and something a little softer in his expression. "I was gonna do that anyway."

#charlie swan x reader #charlie swan smut #twilight fanfic #twilight smut #charlie swan #Charlie swan fic #Charlie swan fanfic

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winterrrnight · 7 months ago

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rafe loves to hear you talk and talk about things you are so passionate about… <3 a rafe x reader blurb <3 cw: reader is chatty and rambl-y and is insecure about it, in this scenario reader is extremely passionate about japanese legends, lovesick rafe + casually dominant rafe, intentional lower case <3 just something for me to post after a small break as I work on other projects <3 for @zyafics who is one of the biggest reasons I am feeling motivated to write again <3

“oh here’s another one I read about yesterday!” you say excitedly as rafe squeezes your intertwined hands, smiling at you.

“mhm go on,” he smiles as you both continue to walk on the sidewalk, the full moon shining bright down at the two of you.

“this one is about the red thread of fate, this thread connects two soulmates,” you smile at him. he looks at you with his eyebrows slightly raised.

“connects two soulmates?” he echoes, and you nod.

“yeah,” you say. “it’s said there is a man who lives on the moon who comes to earth to show people their futures and who they’ll end up with. he does that with the help of the red thread of fate. he ties this invisible red thread between the two people who are meant to be together. this thread can tangle over the huge distance between the two people, it can stretch, but it will never ever break, and it will always tighten to bring those two people together.

“it also talks about the existence of a red pencil which can trace this invisible red thread, and this pencil gets shorter with its usage.

“oh and, this thread is always tied between the pinkies of the two people. that is because it was discovered a long time ago that our heart is connected to our pinky finger by an artery, which is now called the ‘ulnar artery’. this artery carries oxygenated blood from our heart to our pinky. so, in a way, our heart is directly linked to our pinkies via this artery, so when we make a pinky promise, we are basically connecting our hearts while making the promise. and that is why the invisible red thread of fate is also connecting our pinkies, because it is basically connecting the hearts of the soulmates, and–”

you take a look to your left at rafe, who’s looking down at the sidewalk as you both walk. you got so absorbed in talking you don’t even know if he is still listening or if he has tuned you out. honestly, who can blame him? since you keep on talking too much, anyone would quickly tune you out.

“oh god i’m doing it again aren’t i?” you say nervously as you stop in your tracks on the sidewalk, causing rafe to stop too. he eyes you with furrowed brows and creases on his forehead.

the actual truth is, rafe was thinking about tying a red thread to your pinkies when you both get home, his mind racing on where he can actually find some red thread in his house.

“doing what?” rafe asks softly.

“the, the ramble thing, where i just talk and talk till my mouth falls off,” you sigh, looking down. “I do that way too much, i don’t even know if you want to hear it or not but I just start speaking with no seeming end to my talk whatsoever, and you have to force yourself to listen to it because you got stuck being my boyfriend. and then i just keep on talking without thinking, it’s like my mouth has a mind of its own, I really should start to think–”

you are immediately cut off with rafe’s lips on yours, your eyes widening as you try to adjust to what is happening. rafe’s free hand comes to rest on your cheek to pull you even closer into the kiss, and your eyes flutter shut, letting you get lost in the feeling of him.

rafe gently pulls apart from the kiss, his eyes barely open as he gazes down at you.

“listen to me…” he says softly. “you don’t talk too much. I love hearing you talk. I love the cute expressions you make when you talk about things you are passionate about. I love how much knowledge you have about them and how you want to share it with me. I love the shine in your eyes when you start to talk, and the shine is even brighter under the moonlight. never ever apologize for talking too much because I won’t hear it, and you’ll only end up getting kissed by me each time. you get it?”

you look up in rafe’s eyes with a stunned expression. for the first ever time, you are at a loss of words, and all you can do is nod.

he smiles softly at you, as his thumb caresses your cheek. “words, baby, you hear me?” he says softly.

“yeah…” you let out. “I hear you,”

“good,” he mumbles. “never apologize again, okay?”

“okay,” you whisper.

he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and tugs on your hand gently, both of you now walking again. “come on, continue what you were saying,” he says, urging you to continue about the legend you were talking about.

you nod as you clear your throat before resuming to tell him more, this time not allowing even a single thought to let you stop as the stream of words spills from your lips, and rafe only listens in awe, loving hearing what it is you have to tell him.

#hi hi here's a new blurb :)#hope you all like!! <3 #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron concept #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron drabble #written by edith! 🪄

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ghost-in-the-hall · 3 months ago

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Distract Me (Vessel x Fem! Reader) FLUFF

Hello hello! I finally managed to finish this request, even with a name change at that, thank you so much for your patience @theriseofshin ! We have some sweet and fluffy Vessel this chapter. Our reader is a little scared of storms and Vessel can't help but do everything in his power to try and comfort her. Lots of soft touches, awkward flirting, and Ves just being big and cuddly and sweet because I'm so soft for that man. I hope you enjoy! If you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list please let me know!

WARNINGS: None

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link! ~ Tip Jar!

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The afternoon sun was warm on your face, the faint scent of lavender drifting through the open window as you stood at your sink finishing some dishes. The TV played softly in the living room, the pretty blonde meteorologist tracing along the edge of a massive storm cell that was rolling your way. You sighed, drying your hands as you leaned against the counter; it looked like you were in for a long night. A gentle knock on your door drew your attention away from the screen. Your bare feet padded across the dark hardwood floor, slinging your dish towel over your shoulder. You stood on your toes to peer outside, the frosted, textured glass above your door muddling your visitors' form. You can't help but smile as you recognize Vessel’s tall, broad frame. “Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise?” You greet him sweetly as you open the door; your heart begins to pound in your chest as you feel him study you.

“IV picked a bunch of fresh fruit today. I wanted to stop by and bring you some.” He holds out the large container that was practically overflowing with various berries. You accept it with a soft ‘thank you,’ your fingers brushing over his during the exchange.

“Would you like to come in?”

“I would love to.” He responds a little too quickly; you hold back a laugh as you watch him cringe slightly at his actions. “I mean, if it wouldn't be too much trouble.” He adds on with a bashful chuckle.

“No trouble at all; I was just about to make some tea.” You nod for him to follow you inside. He ducks through your doorway, shoving his hands in his pockets as he curiously looks around your house. You couldn't help but watch him from the kitchen, smiling softly as you saw him delicately pick up whatever knick-knack had caught his attention, being as careful as possible with the fragile object before setting it back perfectly in place. Ever since the two of you met, Vessel had always held a special sense of caution around you, knowing how intimidating his massive stature could come off; everything he did was settled with a particular degree of care. You're snapped from your thoughts by your kettle beginning to sing.

You sat side by side on your couch, the breeze through the open windows sending a chill through your apartment. The trees danced in the wind, welcoming in the oncoming storm with open arms as dark clouds began to roll in from the distance. Your mug of tea warmed your hands, and a bowl of freshly washed fruit was set between you as you asked Vessel how things were back at the camp. “You should come back with me; I'm sure everyone would love to see you.” He offers with a soft smile.

“I would–” you were cut off by the sound of thunder rumbling, “love… to…” You couldn't help but let your gaze trail to the window, finally noticing that the storm was moving in much quicker than you or the weather channel could have predicted. You swallow thickly before turning your attention back to Vessel, you didn't have a lot of time left. “Um, but it'll have to be some other time.”

“Love, what's wrong?” He sits up from his reclined position, moving closer to you subconsciously when he realizes your nervous state.

“It’s stupid, Ves, promise.” You chuckle, your hands squeezing into fists at another growl of thunder. A warm hand comes to rest on your cheek, your eyes meeting the slits of his mask. His thumb trails across your skin, “storms just make me a little nervous, that’s all.”

You see him start to speak, but he quickly pauses, contemplating whether or not to say whatever has crossed his mind. “If you like,” he begins slowly, “I could always stay until it passes.” He offers, and you feel your pulse begin to race.

“I'd really like that, Ves.” You respond softly. You exchange a coy smile.

“I’ll keep you nice and safe, love, don't worry.” He teases with a soft chuckle, making your cheeks grow warm.

“Trust me, I didn't have any doubts in the first place.” He stands holding out his hand for you to take. He helped you shut all your windows, allowing you to collect your emergency candles and flashlights in case the power went out. You can't help but smile as you watch him organize what you had handed him neatly on your coffee table. “You’re sure you don't mind staying? This could go on all night; I wouldn't want to keep you.”

He hums, slowly striding over to you. “Let me think, go back to camp to spend the night alone in my cabin or to be curled up here with you?” He pretends to ponder over his options for a moment. “I think the latter sounds a little better, don't you?” He glances down at you with a playful smirk.

“You're sweet.” You respond shyly. Over the time you had known Vessel, the two of you had grown rather close; you were someone who he found himself slowly deconstructing the walls he had built up around himself for, and he was someone who you felt effortlessly connected to from the moment you met him. Although neither of you would admit it, through your growing friendship, something else began to grow out of it as well. After breaking through his cold, rigid exterior, you discovered that Vessel was quite sweet. It was in the little things you noticed: how he would always make sure to hold doors open for you, offering you his arm through rockier parts of trails on hikes, how he would absentmindedly comb his fingers through your hair as you lay together, reading outside. Everything about being with him just felt so right.

The two of you quietly prepared dinner together, Vessel humming along with the radio as he finished up the last few dishes. A smile spreads across his face as he catches your gaze lingering on him. You quickly dart your eyes back to the pan on the stove, your cheeks growing warm at the realization you had been caught. You jump slightly as you feel a pair of large, warm hands settle on your waist. “Smells good,” he remarks simply.

“Let's just hope it tastes good, too.” You giggle.

By the time you sat down to eat, the rain was pelting against the windows. As you look outside, you twirl your fork nervously between your fingers, the trees blowing violently in the wind. A bright flash of lightning exploded across the sky; you jumped at the sudden boom of thunder that shook the room. Vessel took your hand, his thumb soothingly running over your knuckles. “If it makes you feel any better, I'm not the biggest fan of storms myself.” You shoot him a playful, skeptical look. “I'm serious!” He exclaims with a chuckle.

“Sorry,” you respond with a giggle of your own, “I'm just surprised. I feel pretty silly about the fact I'm scared of thunderstorms-”

“You shouldn't be; it's cute.” He pauses as the compliment tumbles from his lips. You can't stop the bashful smile that immediately spreads across your features. Vessel tries to speak, but no words manage to find their way out. “I'm sorry.” He finally manages after a moment.

“Don't be.” You glance up at him, his shoulders visibly relaxing as your eyes land on the slits of his mask. You gently squeeze his hand, “I'm really happy you're here, Ves.” You admit softly. He studies you momentarily, noticing how you seemed to lean into him for comfort when the storm outside became too loud for you to ignore.

He states your name gently, tugging you closer by your hand as he straightens up from his reclined position on the couch. Your heart pounded in your chest as his lips hovered just a little too close to yours. ��It's alright, I've got you, love.” He wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his chest as he shoots you a sharp smile. Your cheeks burned, and you were sure your heart was pounding loud enough he could hear it. You relaxed into his embrace, allowing your body to mold against his. Vessel’s thumb languidly rubbed over your waist, making electricity danced across your skin where your shirt had lifted up. “Did I ever tell you about the time III managed to get both of his boots stuck in the mud, so he had to walk back to camp barefoot?” You shoot him a confused look, laughter slowly bubbling up in your chest as you thought about how mad III must have been.

“No, I don't think you have.” Vessel holds you close as he does his best to distract you from the weather outside. Telling you whatever story he could think of that would make you laugh. IV dropping an entire pot of pasta on the floor, a bear making off with a basket of II’s laundry, the countless numbers of times Ves has smacked his head in a doorframe or a hanging light, anything to keep a smile on your face. “You need to be careful; you're going to end up hurting yourself one of these days.” You giggle.

“That won't be such a bad thing if I have a pretty little thing like you to nurse me back to health.” You playfully swat at his shoulder, making him chuckle. You hide your face against him, his hand gently cradling the back of your head. “I’m sorry, I can't help myself. You're absolutely adorable when you get all flustered.”

“Well, you definitely don't have any trouble accomplishing that, do you?” You glance back up at him through your lashes, a nervous yet coy smile reaching your lips.

“What can I say?” He starts, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want to make sure you feel special.” Vessel swallows thickly, his hand brushing over your cheek as his fingers slide into your hair. You let out a small startled sound as you’re suddenly plunged into darkness. Panic immediately begins to bubble up in your throat as it becomes apparent just how bad the storm had gotten; the wind rattled the glass panels of your windows, the rain pelting against your roof made the room entirely too loud yet somehow impossibly quiet as the background humming of all your appliances had been cut. “I'm right here, lovey; I got you.” You're snapped from your thoughts by Vessel’s deep voice rumbling close to your ear.

“I'm sorry,” you apologize with a soft chuckle, your voice trembling slightly as you speak, “I feel silly–”

“There's no need to, sweetheart.” He reassures you, carefully cradling you against his chest. “It's a bad storm; there's nothing wrong with getting a little anxious.” He presses a finger below your chin, angling you to look up at him. “I guess I just need to do a better job of distracting you, hm?” His knuckle trails along your jaw, your hand fists into the soft material of his sweatshirt at another loud crack of thunder.

“Ves?” you state his name softly, you feel his lips ghost over yours.

“Yes, love?” He responds in a similar tone.

“Distract me.” He tips you back into the plush couch cushions, allowing a growl to slip past his lips. In an instant, Vessel ensnared every one of your senses; his large hands were warm as they gripped desperately at your waist, fingers skimming bare skin where your shirt had ridden up. His weight blanketed you, firm muscles pressing into the plushness of your body. The taste of sweet, herbal tea mixed with the slight bitterness of the paint that adorned his lips. You could feel the edge of his mask dig into your skin, your mind numb to the sensation as you found yourself unable to focus on anything besides the feeling of Vessel’s lips on yours. A flash of lightning lit up the room, glowing orange through your eyelids; a loud boom of thunder followed it. Vessel feels your grip on him tighten at the sound; he breaks away from you for just a moment to whisper sweet words of reassurance against your lips. “You're alright, sweetheart; I'm right here; I got you.” He keeps your focus on him, your lips buzzing as the two of you finally break apart for longer than a few seconds. Vessel chuckles, running a thumb over your tender bottom lip. “Sorry if I was too rough, I've been waiting a long time to be able to do that.”

“Same here.” You giggle bashfully. “And you weren't, I really like… I really like the way it feels when you kiss me.” You admit breathlessly. He continues to hold you close for the rest of the night, pulling your lips to his as a distraction whenever the weather picked up again. After a while, you struggled to suppress your yawns, the warmth of Vessel’s arms making your whole body melt into his touch.

“Let’s get you to bed, lovey.” He whispers, slipping an arm behind your knees to lift you from the couch effortlessly. You wrap your arms around his neck, sleepily pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you for staying with me, Ves.” He can't help but smile, turning to press a kiss to your forehead. He lays you in bed, carefully situating you under the covers. Your hand slips into his; he brushes some hair out of your face as he studies you with a gaze of pure admiration. “Do you have to go?” You ask quietly as if speaking too loud would somehow break your perfect evening.

“Not if you don't want me to.” You slide back across the mattress, gently tugging him into the bed beside you. He hesitates at first, thrown off by eagerness to have him beside you. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your much smaller form on top of him. You tense slightly as a boom of thunder erupts from outside, the storm finally on its way out. You glance up at Vessel only to be met with a soft smile as he gently caresses your cheek. Without a word, he pulled your lips back to his, and suddenly, the storm outside didn’t seem quite as scary anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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novaursa · 3 months ago

Text

The Dragon's Right (7)

- Summary: It was by grace of the gods that firstborn child of Viserys I and Aemma was born a boy and he lived. And all of the rest, scholars will later say, is by power of something more malevolent in kind.

- Paring: male!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top and there is a link for a second list.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 5 500+

- Previous part: 6

- Next part: 8

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne

The warmth of Rhaenyra’s body pressed against yours was comforting as you lay together, her head nestled on your chest, the soft rise and fall of her breathing calming the air around you. The aftermath of your shared intimacy left a quiet stillness in the room, broken only by the crackling of the dying fire in the hearth. The closeness of the moment, the intimacy that came with it, made everything else in the world seem distant—unimportant, even.

You felt her fingertips tracing lazy circles over your chest, her delicate touch both soothing and grounding. She shifted slightly, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you, her violet eyes shimmering in the low light. There was an expression of contentment on her face, a smile tugging at her lips as she spoke.

“You should ask Father to betroth us,” she said softly, her voice filled with an earnest hopefulness.

The words, though spoken with affection, caused you to tense. It wasn’t that you hadn’t considered it—far from it. The thought had been lingering in your mind for days, growing stronger with every stolen moment you shared with her. But the reality of asking Viserys for such a thing was daunting. The weight of the crown, of duty, of tradition—it all loomed over you like a dark cloud.

You shifted slightly, staring up at the ceiling as you let out a quiet sigh. “Rhaenyra,” you began, hesitating as you tried to find the right words. “It’s not that simple. You know that.”

She frowned, her fingers stilling on your chest as she studied your face. “Why not? We’re Targaryens. This is our tradition—our right. Father understands that better than anyone.”

You exhaled slowly, your hand coming up to gently brush a strand of silver hair from her face. “I know he does,” you said quietly. “But convincing him… asking him to betroth us, it’s not a conversation I’ve been able to bring myself to have.”

Rhaenyra’s frown deepened, and she sat up further, her eyes narrowing slightly as she regarded you. “You’ve been planning to ask him, haven’t you? For days now, I can tell.”

You nodded, the truth settling between you both. “I have,” you admitted. “But I don’t know how to approach it. I don’t know what Father’s reaction will be, or if he’ll even consider it. And even if he does… there’s the council to think about.”

“The council?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “What do they have to do with it? If we can convince Father, it won’t matter what the others think.”

You shook your head slowly, a deep furrow of thought etched into your brow. “You know as well as I do that the council will have their opinions. Otto Hightower, Corlys Velaryon… they’ll see us as a political tool to strengthen the realm through marriages to other noble houses. They won’t support this. We would likely find little, if any, allies among them.”

Rhaenyra’s expression hardened with determination as she moved to straddle your waist, her hands resting on your chest as she leaned over you. “Then let them object,” she said firmly, her voice soft but resolute. “If we convince Father that this is the best course for our House, that this will unite us as Targaryens, nothing they say will matter.”

You stared up at her, feeling the intensity of her words and the fire behind her conviction. She was as bold as ever, unwilling to let the opinions of others sway her from what she wanted. It was one of the many things you admired about her—her ability to forge her own path, to fight for what she believed in. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the responsibility you both carried.

“We could speak to him together,” she continued, her fingers tracing absent patterns on your skin. “At the next council meeting. We could make him see that this is what’s best for our family, for the realm.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting her words sink in. The thought of standing before Viserys and the council, of confessing your feelings and making such a bold request, made your stomach tighten. But you couldn’t deny that she was right—if you were ever going to secure your future together, it had to be now, before the pressures of the court forced your father’s hand in another direction.

Finally, you opened your eyes and met her gaze. “Perhaps,” you said, your voice quieter now. “But it will take more than just convincing Father. The court will fight us on this.”

Rhaenyra leaned down, her lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that was both tender and filled with unspoken promise. “Let them fight,” she whispered against your lips. “I won’t let them take you from me.”

You smiled faintly, your hand coming up to cup her cheek as you kissed her back. “You’re impossible,” you murmured, though there was no real bite to your words.

“I’m determined,” she corrected with a playful smirk, kissing you again before resting her head on your chest.

For a while, the two of you lay there in silence, the weight of your conversation hanging between you. The fire in the hearth had dimmed, and the night outside had deepened into quiet stillness. But as the moments passed, you felt the familiar pull of duty—an invisible force that always seemed to creep in, reminding you of the reality that awaited beyond these stolen hours.

Eventually, you sighed, gently shifting her off your chest as you sat up on the edge of the bed. “I need to go,” you said softly, your voice filled with regret. “It’s already late. If I’m not careful, someone might notice.”

Rhaenyra frowned, sitting up beside you and brushing her fingers over your arm. “Stay a little longer,” she urged, her voice almost pleading.

You shook your head, though it pained you to do so. “We can’t risk it. If anyone found out…”

She sighed, leaning her head against your shoulder. “I hate this,” she muttered. “Having to sneak around like we’re doing something wrong.”

“I know,” you whispered, your hand resting on hers. “But for now, it’s the only way.”

Reluctantly, you rose from the bed, pulling on your discarded clothes as Rhaenyra watched you, a mixture of frustration and affection in her eyes. Once you were dressed, you turned back to her, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to her lips.

“Soon,” you promised quietly. “We’ll talk to Father soon.”

She nodded, though there was still a hint of disappointment in her expression. “Be careful,” she whispered as you moved toward the door.

With one last glance at her, you slipped out of her chambers and into the darkened corridors of the Red Keep, your mind racing with the implications of what lay ahead. Convincing Viserys would be no easy task, and even if he agreed, the battle with the court would be just beginning.

But for Rhaenyra—for the connection you shared—you were willing to fight.

The small council meeting began as most did, with the familiar rustle of parchment and the murmur of voices discussing the state of the realm. Grand Maester Mellos, with his usual somber tone, noted progress in various parts of the kingdom—trade routes improving, taxes collected in good measure, and peace holding in key regions. Yet, even as Mellos spoke, there was an undeniable tension hanging in the air. The absence of Corlys Velaryon, who had left to join Daemon in the Stepstones, only added to the weight of the moment.

You sat among the gathered lords, your mind not on the realm but on the conversation you knew you would have to start. Across the room, Rhaenyra, in her role as cupbearer, stood silently, her eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. That brief glance was all it took to ground you. She, too, was waiting for what was about to unfold.

Clearing your throat, you turned toward your father, King Viserys, who had been listening to the updates with mild interest. The conversation in the room lulled as you spoke up, your voice calm but with an edge of determination.

"Father," you began, your tone steady though your heart was pounding. "I may have a proposition… regarding my choice for a wife."

Viserys’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze snapping to yours. The silence that followed stretched across the room, as though everyone had been holding their breath in anticipation of what you were about to say. Even the ever-watchful Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King, leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing in interest.

After a long pause, Viserys, recovering from the initial shock, nodded for you to continue. "Speak, my son."

You took a deep breath, your gaze flicking briefly to Rhaenyra before you continued. "Rhaenyra and I have been discussing this matter," you began carefully, "and we both feel that the best course for our House—Targaryen—would be to strengthen it from within."

A ripple of unease spread through the room. You could feel the tension rising as you pressed on, undeterred by the shifting glances and murmurs from the council members.

"We believe," you said slowly, deliberately, "that both of our betrothals should be handled at once. And that Rhaenyra… should be wed to me."

The silence that followed was suffocating, thick and heavy, as though the very air had been sucked out of the room. Every eye was on you, the weight of your words sinking into the minds of the men seated around the table. Otto’s fingers steepled before him, his sharp eyes betraying no emotion as he studied you closely. Tyland Lannister, ever the calculating politician, stiffened visibly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

But it was Viserys’s reaction you watched most carefully. You saw the shock ripple across his face, followed by a flicker of confusion, then—unexpectedly—a moment of quiet understanding. His gaze shifted from you to Rhaenyra, lingering between the two of you as though considering something he had long thought impossible. For a heartbeat, you believed that he might actually be weighing the possibility.

But before Viserys could speak, Otto leaned forward, his voice smooth yet filled with caution. "Your Grace, while I do not doubt the advantages such a union may hold for House Targaryen," he began, "it would not sit well with the realm. The very idea could alienate potential allies. And," he added, glancing around the table for support, "the Faith of the Seven may be… troubled by another incestuous marriage, even within your family’s ancient customs."

Viserys’s expression shifted slightly, his brow furrowing as he considered Otto’s words. You could see the conflict in your father’s eyes, the way he was caught between his own understanding of Targaryen tradition and the political realities Otto had laid before him.

Rhaenyra, however, was not one to remain silent. Her voice cut through the stillness, firm and unwavering. "Father," she said, stepping forward, her tone filled with determination. "This is our House. Our legacy. A marriage between my brother and me would strengthen our bloodline and ensure that House Targaryen remains united. Who better to rule together than the heirs of the dragon?"

But before her words could fully sink in, Tyland Lannister interjected with a sharp, disapproving tone. "Princess, while I understand the sentiment, this would also alienate several key Houses. The Lords of Westeros will not look favorably upon such a match, and we risk losing valuable alliances that could be critical in times of need."

Rhaenyra turned toward Tyland, her expression hardening, but before she could respond, the council’s murmur grew louder. Lyonel Strong remained silent, his face unreadable, though his eyes flicked between you, Rhaenyra, and Viserys, clearly weighing the consequences of either decision. Grand Maester Mellos, who had been quietly stunned by the proposal, appeared to still be gathering his thoughts, unable to formulate a proper response in the moment.

Viserys finally spoke, his voice tinged with weariness. "I understand both your sentiments, Y/N… Rhaenyra. I know this is something you both feel deeply. But," he hesitated, glancing at the other members of the council, "such a match would indeed cause a great deal of unrest among the lords of the realm. They would see it as—"

"A threat?" Rhaenyra interrupted, her frustration evident as she stepped forward. "Our bloodline has always been different. They’ve always whispered about us behind our backs, but we are Targaryens. Our strength comes from within."

Her voice echoed through the chamber, but the cold reality of the court and its politics hung heavily in the air. Viserys glanced at her, sorrow in his eyes, but before he could respond, Rhaenyra slammed the cup she had been holding down onto the table with a loud clatter.

"I see," she spat, her voice filled with both anger and disappointment. "The realm matters more than our family."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode out of the chamber, her footsteps echoing against the stone floor as she made her hasty exit. The tension in the room thickened, and the silence that followed was unbearable.

Your gaze followed her, torn between your duties at the council and your instinct to go after her. But you knew you couldn’t simply leave. Not yet. Not with so much unresolved.

Viserys let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples in frustration. "We will speak of this later," he said quietly, his tone final, though the strain in his voice was unmistakable.

The council fell into an uneasy quiet, none daring to speak again on the matter as the weight of what had just been discussed lingered over the room like a storm waiting to break.

The dimly lit chambers of the Tower of the Hand had an oppressive air that matched the mood between father and daughter. Otto Hightower paced before the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back, his face set in a deep scowl. His movements were agitated, his mind clearly racing with thoughts of what had just transpired in the small council. Alicent stood near the window, her fingers nervously twisting the fabric of her gown as she watched him, the weight of her father’s discontent pressing heavily on her.

“I’ve just come from the council,” Otto said abruptly, his voice sharp. He stopped pacing and turned to face her, his eyes narrowing with displeasure. “Your prince, Y/N, has proposed to wed Rhaenyra.”

Alicent’s breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat as the words hit her like a blow. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her mind reeled, trying to comprehend what Otto had just said. The shock of it left her momentarily speechless, a flood of confusion and hurt surging through her.

“They’ve been planning it,” Otto continued, his tone dripping with frustration. “Behind everyone’s backs. He stood in front of the king and the entire council today and suggested that he and Rhaenyra should marry.”

Alicent felt her legs weaken, and she moved to sit down on a nearby chair, her body trembling with the weight of her emotions. “Rhaenyra… she wants to marry him?” she asked, her voice quivering. She struggled to make sense of the betrayal that now gnawed at her heart. She had always known how close Rhaenyra and her brother were, but this… this was something different. Something far deeper than she had ever imagined.

Her mind raced back to all the moments they had shared, the times when she had confided in Rhaenyra, thinking her friend supported her attempts to win [Your Name]’s favor. Now, it all seemed like a cruel joke, a façade that had hidden Rhaenyra’s true desires. The look on her friend’s face, the anger and possessiveness that had been masked as protectiveness—it all made sense now.

“She was never going to let anyone else have him,” Alicent murmured, her voice laced with disbelief as the realization sank in.

Otto’s eyes darkened with displeasure as he observed his daughter, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Of course not,” he said, his tone cutting. “And if you had done your job as I instructed, this wouldn’t have come to pass. You should have secured his attention, Alicent. You were meant to make him look to you, not to his sister.”

Alicent’s eyes filled with tears, her gaze falling to the floor as she struggled to hold back the wave of emotion rising within her. “I did everything you asked,” she said quietly, her voice trembling with sorrow. “I tried, Father. I really did. But he… he never looked at me that way. His mind was always elsewhere… always on her.”

Otto’s expression softened for a brief moment, but his frustration remained. He approached her slowly, his voice lowering as if to contain his anger. “There’s still time to salvage this,” he said, his tone taking on a more measured edge. “The king did not approve of their proposal outright. In fact, he voiced his concerns about such a match.”

Alicent looked up at her father, wiping a tear from her cheek. “What did he say?”

Otto sat down across from her, his sharp eyes meeting hers with intensity. “Viserys understands the political ramifications of such a union. He knows it would alienate potential allies, particularly among the great houses. And the Faith… they will not look kindly on another incestuous marriage, no matter how accepted it may have been in the past. He’s hesitant, and that is where our advantage lies.”

Alicent listened intently, though her heart still ached from the betrayal she felt—not just from Rhaenyra, but from the whole situation. She had believed, for so long, that there might be a chance for her to be with [Your Name]. But now, with this revelation, it seemed as though that chance was slipping away.

“We must make the king see the alternatives,” Otto continued, his voice becoming more calculated. “If we can show him that there are better options—alliances that would strengthen the crown rather than isolate it—then he may reconsider. And you, Alicent…” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze piercing. “You must continue to play your part.”

Alicent’s lip trembled as she lowered her head, her fingers twisting in her lap. “I don’t know what else I can do,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “He’s never looked at me the way he looks at her.”

Otto reached out, lifting her chin so that she was forced to meet his gaze. “You are the daughter of the Hand of the King,” he said firmly, his voice unwavering. “And you are beautiful, intelligent, and poised. You must not give up so easily. You need to show him that you are a better match, a more suitable wife. The court needs stability, and if Rhaenyra’s union with him is seen as a threat to the realm, you can be the solution.”

Alicent swallowed hard, her emotions still raw, but her father’s words began to sink in. She knew what was expected of her, and even though the pain of Rhaenyra’s betrayal cut deep, she couldn’t afford to let it show. If she wanted to secure her place at court, if she wanted to please her father and protect her own future, she would have to continue to play the game.

“There is still time,” Otto repeated, his voice softening just slightly. “But you must be strong, Alicent. Don’t let Rhaenyra’s actions push you out. If you want this, you will need to fight for it.”

Alicent nodded, her mind still swirling with conflicting emotions—hurt, betrayal, and a flicker of determination. She knew the road ahead would not be easy, but she couldn’t afford to falter now. Not when so much was at stake.

As her father stood and returned to his pacing, Alicent stared out the window, the light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the room. She understood now why Rhaenyra had been so protective, why she had reacted so strongly whenever another lady showed interest in her brother.

Rhaenyra had been protecting what was hers. And now, it was up to Alicent to decide whether she would let her friend take everything… or whether she would fight back.

The flames in the hearth crackled loudly, casting shadows that danced across the walls of the king’s chambers as Viserys sat slumped in his chair, a goblet of wine clutched tightly in his hand. His thoughts were heavy, weighed down by the events of the day. He had not expected the council meeting to unfold as it had, nor had he been prepared for the proposition that his son and daughter had laid before him. The idea of their union had struck him like a blow, shaking him to his core.

He had seen the desperation in their eyes, the conviction in their voices, but the weight of his crown—of the realm—had forced him to think beyond the desires of his children.

Just as he was about to take another sip of wine, the doors to his chambers burst open with a force that startled him. Rhaenyra stormed in, her face flushed with anger, her eyes burning with a fire that Viserys hadn’t seen in her for some time. She didn’t wait for an invitation or even pause to acknowledge the breach of decorum; she had come for a confrontation, and her fury was palpable.

“Father,” she hissed, her voice trembling with rage, “how could you dismiss us like that? Like we were nothing!”

Viserys set his goblet down, his brow furrowing as he straightened in his chair. “Rhaenyra,” he said wearily, “it’s not that simple. There are matters beyond what you and your brother want—”

“It is that simple!” she shot back, taking a step closer, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You refuse to see it because you’re too busy being a slave to the council’s whims!”

Her words struck hard, and Viserys’s face hardened as he rose from his seat. “Enough,” he said, his voice sharp. “You will not speak to me like that. I am your father and your king.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes narrowed, her chest heaving with the weight of her emotions. “You’re my father,” she echoed bitterly, “but you’ve forgotten that in favor of listening to men like Otto Hightower and Tyland Lannister—men who care more about their own power than our family. You care more about what they think than about what I want, what we want.”

Viserys’s jaw tightened as he took a step forward, his eyes flashing with frustration. “You think this is about what they want?” he demanded, his voice rising. “You think I make my decisions based on the whims of my council? This is about the realm, Rhaenyra! The Targaryen name means something, and I have a duty to uphold the stability of the crown.”

“And I have a duty too, don’t I?” Rhaenyra spat, her voice trembling. “To be used as a pawn for political alliances? To marry someone you think is suitable for the realm, not someone I love?” Her voice broke slightly on the last word, and she clenched her fists tighter, as if trying to contain the flood of emotions coursing through her.

Viserys’s face softened for just a moment, but then he shook his head, steeling himself. “It’s not about love,” he said, his tone quieter but still firm. “It’s about what’s best for the realm. You and your brother both have responsibilities—"

“Responsibilities,” Rhaenyra interrupted, her voice rising again. “Is that all we are to you? Responsibilities? I thought we were your children.”

“You are my children,” Viserys snapped, his patience beginning to fray. “And because you are my children, I need you to understand that there are larger concerns at play. I cannot let you and Y/N act on a whim—”

“This isn’t a whim!” Rhaenyra yelled, stepping even closer, her eyes blazing with anger. “This is what we both want. Y/N wants it, I want it—this is not some foolish wish. We’re not children anymore, Father. We’ve made our decision.”

Viserys’s frustration boiled over, and he raised his voice to match hers. “You and your brother will do your duty to the realm,” he shouted, his face flushed with anger. “But not like this!”

Rhaenyra flinched at his outburst, her lips parting in shock, but she quickly recovered, her fury renewed. “Our duty? Is that all that matters to you? The realm, duty, alliances—what about us? What about our family? Don’t we matter at all?”

“Of course you matter,” Viserys shot back, his voice still raised. “But I am the king, and my first duty is to the realm. You and Y/N—you think this is about love, about what’s best for you, but it’s more than that. The Lords of Westeros will not accept this marriage. They will see it as a threat, and the Faith—” He stopped himself, running a hand over his face in frustration.

Rhaenyra took a step back, shaking her head, her expression one of deep hurt. “You’re afraid,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You’re afraid of what they’ll think. Of what they’ll say.”

“I am not afraid!” Viserys roared, his hand slamming down onto the table with a loud crack. “I am the king, and I must think of the future of the realm. You cannot simply marry your brother because it’s what you want.”

“It’s not just what I want,” Rhaenyra shot back, her voice hoarse with emotion. “It’s what’s best for House Targaryen. We are stronger together, and you know that. Our bloodline—our legacy—it’s worth preserving. Just as Jaehaerys and Alysanne did.”

Viserys turned away from her, his hand gripping the back of his chair as he took a deep breath. His voice was quieter now, but there was a deep sadness in it. “I know what Jaehaerys and Alysanne did, and what my mother and father did,” he said softly. “And I know the burden that comes with it. But we cannot go back to those times, Rhaenyra. The realm has changed. The Faith has changed. The lords have changed. They will not accept it, no matter how much you want it.”

Tears brimmed in Rhaenyra’s eyes, though she refused to let them fall. She stood there, her chest heaving, staring at the man before her who was both her father and her king, and yet felt like a stranger in that moment.

“I thought you would fight for us,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I thought you would understand.”

Viserys didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the floor, his shoulders slumped under the weight of his crown.

Without another word, Rhaenyra turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her footsteps echoing loudly in the silence that followed. The door slammed behind her, leaving Viserys standing alone, his heart heavy with the knowledge that no matter what he did, he would never be able to satisfy both his children and the realm he ruled.

Alicent stood still for a moment in the hallway, her heart heavy after watching Rhaenyra pass by in a storm of anger and tears. Ser Criston Cole, loyal and vigilant, trailed behind the princess, his armor clinking softly with every step. Alicent’s chest tightened with concern. She could see the turmoil on Rhaenyra’s face but knew better than to approach her at that moment. Their friendship, once so simple and full of trust, had been shaken by too many unseen forces.

As Rhaenyra vanished from sight, Alicent spotted Ser Harwin Strong standing near the edge of the hall, his posture relaxed but attentive. She quickly made her way to him, hoping for some kind of clarity or direction.

"Ser Harwin," she called softly, her voice carrying a quiet urgency. "Have you seen the prince?"

Harwin offered her a polite bow, his expression respectful yet guarded. "Your Grace," he said in his deep, steady voice. "I believe the prince is on his way to the Dragonpit. If you make haste, you may catch him in the courtyard before he departs."

Nodding her thanks, Alicent quickly gathered her skirts and hurried down the corridor, her heart racing not just from her quickened pace but from the emotions swirling in her chest. She wasn’t entirely sure what she would say to Y/N, but she knew she needed to speak with him—if only to offer some comfort after the tension of the council meeting.

As she reached the courtyard, she saw you standing beside your horse, Stormwind. The large, powerful creature stood calmly as your young Tyrell squire, Trystan, adjusted the saddle straps and made sure everything was in place for your journey. The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over the scene, making your dark riding leathers gleam. You wore finely crafted gear—deep brown leather with silver accents, designed for both protection and agility. A thick cloak, fur-lined for the cold, draped over your shoulders, secured with a dragon-shaped clasp at your throat. Every detail spoke of your status as the crown prince, yet there was something unmistakably worn about your attire—a testament to the battles you’d fought and the long flights on Silverwing.

As you prepared to mount Stormwind, you noticed Alicent approaching. You straightened, your expression shifting from focus to polite acknowledgment. Her steps were measured, but you could see the concern in her eyes. She offered you a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Lady Alicent,” you greeted her, your voice calm but formal. “What brings you here?”

Alicent slowed as she approached, her gaze flicking between you and Stormwind. “Your Grace,” she began, her voice soft, “I heard about what happened during the council meeting… and I wished to offer my sympathies.”

You felt your frown deepen slightly, the weight of the meeting still fresh in your mind. Though you had steeled yourself against the outcome, the sting of it remained. “Thank you,” you replied, though there was a hint of tension in your voice. “It was… a difficult conversation, but these things often are.”

Alicent nodded, her expression full of understanding. She stepped a little closer, her voice lowering as if she didn’t want anyone else to overhear. “I know how much this means to both you and Rhaenyra. It must be frustrating to have your wishes dismissed so easily.”

You glanced at her, studying her face for a moment. Her words were kind, but there was something else behind them—something more complex. You could see that she was trying to offer comfort, but it also felt as though she was searching for something in your response, a deeper understanding of where things stood.

“It is,” you said, keeping your tone measured. “But the realm requires more than just our desires. There are always… complications.”

A flicker of sympathy crossed her face, and she nodded again, her hands wringing together. “I understand that. Truly, I do. But it seems unfair, to deny something that could strengthen your House from within. I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

You sighed softly, your gaze drifting toward Stormwind for a moment before returning to Alicent. “It is difficult, yes,” you admitted, though you kept your voice steady. “But we all have our duties, even if they conflict with what we want.”

For a brief moment, neither of you spoke. The courtyard felt strangely quiet despite the activity around you. Trystan finished securing the straps on your saddle, standing a respectful distance away as he waited for you to mount. Alicent’s eyes softened as she looked at you, her expression a mixture of sympathy and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“I hope you and Rhaenyra find the peace you seek,” she said softly, her voice carrying an earnest sincerity. “I truly do.”

You gave her a small, polite smile, though your mind was already drifting to the flight ahead. “Thank you, Lady Alicent,” you replied. “Your concern is appreciated.”

You turned your attention back to Stormwind, knowing it was time to leave. The Dragonpit awaited, and Silverwing’s company was the only solace you could count on at that moment. With a practiced motion, you mounted the horse, adjusting your grip on the reins as you settled into the saddle. Before you could spur the horse forward, you glanced down at Alicent one last time.

“Until we meet again,” you said, your tone still formal, though there was a touch of warmth in your farewell.

Alicent offered you a final nod, her hands clasped in front of her as she watched you prepare to depart. “Until then, Your Grace,” she replied, her voice soft but steady.

With a gentle nudge of your heels, Stormwind began to move forward, the sound of his hooves echoing through the courtyard. You cast one last glance back at Alicent before guiding your horse through the gates, your mind already turning to the sky, to the wind, and to Silverwing’s waiting presence.

As you rode off, leaving the keep behind, the weight of the day’s events settled over you once more. The tension with your father, the anguish in Rhaenyra’s eyes—all of it followed you like a shadow, even as you tried to shake it free with the promise of flight.

Behind you, Alicent remained standing in the courtyard, watching your retreating figure. Her heart felt heavy, a mix of sympathy and something more bitter twisting inside her. She had come to offer support, but now she felt more distant from both you and Rhaenyra than ever before.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd x male reader #hotd x y/n #hotd #hotd x you #alicent hightower #rhaenyra x y/n #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x you #house targaryen #silverwing

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bloodreinasbathwater · 6 months ago

Text

Jacked Up Love

part 2

Jack Hughes X Best Friend! Reader

(Brothers Best Friend AU)

a.n: I have been debating whether to add some spice to this but after not seeing it fit my ending yet, it will be in part 4 or 5 instead. this one feels a little short but it's getting the story going until we have our final confrontation. I hope you guys enjoy and please message me if you have any questions or want to be added to the tag list. <3

warnings: flirting, not proofread, fuckboy jack, kissing, cursing, mentions of cheating?

masterlist link

Summary: Hurt and angry, Y/N avoids Jack for most of the night until he confronts her as the party winds down. Just as things are heating up between Y/N and Jack, Lee walks in on Y/N and Jack in an intimate moment.

word count - 4341

...

Jack chuckled as he observed Quinn and his dad bickering good-naturedly over the stove. Quinn kept trying to slather more sauce onto the ribs, much to Jim's exasperation.

"No, no, you're doing it all wrong!" Jim complained, attempting to wrestle the basting brush from Quinn's hand. "You're supposed to let the meat speak for itself, not drown it in that sugary nonsense."

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, live a little! Everyone knows the secret to killer ribs is in the sauce dad."

Their playful argument carried across the large house, drawing amused glances from the other partygoers. Jack shook his head, grinning at their antics. He loved these laid-back gatherings in the winter, where everyone could just kick back and enjoy each other's company.

Turning his attention back to Lee, Jack tried to focus on their conversation about the latest Cardinals game. "...and did you see that pass in the third period?" Lee was saying excitedly, his hands waving animatedly as he recounted the highlights of the game. "I thought for sure they were going to score off that turnover."

Luke nodded, taking a swig of his beer. "Yeah, man, that was a close call. But the goalie really stepped up his game tonight. Those saves were unreal."

They continued to chat, their voices rising and falling with the ebb and flow of their enthusiasm. He tried to focus on the words, but a familiar laugh rang out, causing his heart to skip a beat. Jack's attention drifted from Lee's animated play-by-play of the game, his gaze inexorably drawn to where you stood by the dessert table with your girlfriends.

You were laughing at something Mia had said, your eyes sparkling with mirth. Jack watched, transfixed, as you tipped your head back, exposing the smooth column of your throat. Time seemed to slow as he took in the sight of you, the rest of the party fading into the background.

Lee, oblivious to Jack's distraction, continued chattering on about batting averages and on-base percentages. But Jack was only half-listening, his attention continually drawn back to you. "Hey, Jack! Did you catch that insane goal in overtime?"

Jack merely hummed noncommittally, his tone casual. "Yeah, yeah, I saw that. Pretty sick shot."

His gaze traced the curve of your smile, the fullness of your lips. An ache blossomed in his chest, a longing so acute it stole his breath. What would it feel like, he wondered, to have those lips pressed against his own? To trail his fingers along the silken expanse of your skin, to hear you sigh his name in the darkness?

In a trance, Jack's eyes roamed over you, drinking in every detail. The way your dress clung to your curves, the faint smell of your perfume on the jacket he had offered you outside, which of course you had given back covered in your smell. You were a masterpiece, a work of art come to life.

God, you were beautiful.

And then, as if sensing the weight of his stare, you turned. Your eyes met his across the flickering flames, and the world ground to a halt. In that suspended moment, Jack felt a jolt of electricity coursing through his veins, a pull towards you that was almost gravitational.

Your lips curved into a soft, secret smile, and Jack's heart stuttered in his chest. That smile held a thousand unspoken promises, a wealth of possibility that both terrified and thrilled him. He knew he should look away, knew he was treading on dangerous ground. But he was powerless to resist the magnetic allure of your gaze, the siren song of your presence.

Did you have any idea what you did to him? How much he wanted to pull you into his arms, consequences be damned?

He took a swig of his beer, trying to calm the riot of emotions swirling inside him. This was getting out of hand. He needed to get a grip on himself before he did something stupid.

Like confess his feelings for you, the one girl who was absolutely, completely off-limits...

Shaking his head, Jack forced himself to focus on Lee's words, determined to push all thoughts of you from his mind. At least for now.

But deep down, he knew it was futile. Because when it came to you, resistance had always been impossible. And maybe, just maybe... that was starting to feel more thrilling than frightening.

"Right? I thought the puck was going to bounce right off the crossbar, but nope - top shelf, baby!" Lee nodded, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around him.

…

"No, but seriously," Ava said, her face deadpan, "I think I'm going to start a GoFundMe for my boss's fashion sense. It's a tragedy, really. The man needs an intervention."

Sophie snorted. "What, you mean the 'middle-aged dad on vacation' look isn't working for him?"

"Please," you chimed in, grinning, "I've seen actual dads on vacation with better style. He's more like... a cross between a used car salesman and a cruise ship entertainer."

Mia nearly choked on her drink. "Oh my god, I can't unsee it now. The tacky Hawaiian shirts, the ill-fitting khakis..."

"Don't forget the socks with sandals!" Ava added, shuddering dramatically.

You all burst into laughter, the absurdity of the image too much to handle. Your shoulders shook with mirth, tears of hilarity pricking at the corners of your eyes. But then, gradually, you became aware of a prickling sensation on the back of your neck. The unmistakable feeling of being watched, the stare burning into your skin like a physical caress.

Still giggling, you scanned the crowd of faces, trying to catch the culprit. Your gaze flitted from person to person - Uncle Joe by the cooler, Quinn and Jim still arguing over the grill, a group of Lee's friends from college - but no one seemed to be paying you any attention.

Until your eyes locked with a pair of striking blue ones.

Jack.

The laughter died on your lips as your breath caught in your throat. He was staring at you intensely. The old, faded baseball cap perched backwards on his head did little to tame his unruly dark hair, and the worn grey hoodie he wore strained against the muscles of his chest and shoulders.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you drank him in, heat rising unbidden to your cheeks. In that suspended moment, it was as if everyone else simply fell away, leaving only you and Jack, connected by some invisible, unbreakable thread.

But then Lee came into view, saying something to Jack with an easygoing grin. The spell was broken as quickly as it had been cast, uncertainty flooding in to fill the void.

Swallowing hard, you tore your gaze away, only to find Mia watching you with a knowing smirk. Her green eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter, and you knew you'd been caught red-handed.

"Shut up," you muttered, feeling your face flame even hotter.

Mia held up her hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I didn't say anything! But seriously, Y/N, when are you going to put that poor boy out of his misery and jump his bones already?"

"Mia!" you hissed, mortified. "It's not... I can't... he's Lee's best friend!"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "So? That doesn't mean you two can't get your freak on. Just think of how hot the sneaking around would be..."

You buried your face in your hands, torn between laughter and abject horror. "I hate you all. You're the worst friends ever."

Ava slung an arm around your shoulders, grinning. "Nah, you love us. And you know we've got your back, no matter what. Even if 'what' is climbing that tall, dark, and broody tree over there like it's your job."

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn't help but dissolve into giggles once more, your heart feeling lighter than it had all evening.

…

You snuggled deeper into the cozy embrace of the blanket, content to simply bask in the company of your friends. Ava, Mia, and Sophie had settled into the chairs around you, the conversation flowing as easily as the alcohol.

As the minutes ticked by, you found yourself growing increasingly drowsy, the events of the day finally catching up to you. Your eyelids grew heavy, and you had to fight to keep them open. Dimly, you registered Quinn hopping off rib duty, his arm slung around his girlfriend's shoulders as they made their way to the other living room, easily getting swept into his mothers conversation.

A moment later, Lee and Luke disappeared upstairs, their good-natured trash talk about the upcoming NHL game fading as the door swung shut behind them. Suddenly, feeling restless, you stood up - only to sway on your feet, the blanket flopping back down onto the love seat.

The world tilted alarmingly, and for a dizzying second, you were certain you were about to face-plant right into new glass table Ellen had bought.

quick as a flash, strong hands gripped your arms, steadying you. Before you could process what was happening, you found yourself being tugged down onto a solid, warm lap.

"Hi, Mini," Jack's deep, honeyed voice rumbled in your ear, sending a shiver racing down your spine that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. Your heart leapt into your throat, a giddy thrill coursing through you at his close proximity. This was the closest you'd been to him all night, and the heat of his body seemed to seep into your very bones.

Tipping your head back, you met his gaze, a slow smile spreading across your face. There was just something about Jack, something that never failed to bring a grin to your lips and a flutter to your pulse.

Whatever it was, you knew you were hopelessly entangled in his web, caught in a pull that only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

"Hi yourself," you murmured, your voice coming out breathier than you'd intended. "You come here often?"

Jack's lips quirked, his arms tightening around your waist. "Well, you know me. I never could resist a damsel in distress."

You laughed, swatting at his chest. "My hero. Whatever would I do without you?"

His expression softened, something tender and unguarded flickering in his gaze. "Guess you'll never have to find out, huh?"

Your breath caught at the unspoken promise in his words, the implications hanging heavy in the scant space between you. Suddenly, the air felt charged, electric, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks.

Awareness prickled over your skin as you stared up at him, your senses hyperattuned to every flex of his fingers on your hip, every hitch in his breathing. The rest of the world seemed to recede, fading into insignificance until there was only this - the crackle of the fire, the pounding of your heart, and the magnetic pull of Jack's eyes on yours.

It would be so easy, you thought hazily, to just lean in and close the distance between you. To finally, finally discover if his lips were as soft as they looked, if he tasted as good as you'd always imagined...

But then a burst of raucous laughter from across the yard shattered the spell, jolting you back to reality. You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks as you realized just how close you'd been to kissing your brother's best friend - in full view of everyone, no less.

Clearing your throat, you started to pull away, only for Jack's arms to tighten around you. "Hey," he said softly, his voice low and intimate. "Where do you think you're going?"

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs. "I... I should probably go check on Lee upstairs. He gets super sensitive over chel, you know that." It was a flimsy excuse, and from the knowing glint in Jack's eyes, he wasn't buying it for a second. But he loosened his hold, nonetheless, letting you slide off his lap on unsteady legs.

"Hurry back," he murmured, his gaze hot and heavy on your skin. "I'll be waiting."

And as you stumbled away, your pulse racing and your mind awhirl, you couldn't help but wonder...

What the hell had you just gotten yourself into?

You knew you needed to be more careful, needed to keep a tighter rein on your reactions to Jack. The last thing you wanted was for Lee to catch on to the tangle of feelings knotting in your chest.

…

You managed to tear yourself away from the magnetic pull of Jack's presence, mumbling some excuse to your friends about needing to use the bathroom. But instead of heading inside, you found yourself climbing the stairs, drawn by the muffled shouts and laughter emanating from Lee's bedroom.

As you reached the top of the landing, the sounds of aggressive button-mashing and colorful trash talk grew louder, bringing a smile to your face. Some things never changed.

Pushing open the door, you were greeted by the sight of Lee and Luke sprawled out on the floor, controllers in hand, their eyes glued to the giant TV screen. They were in the middle of an intense NHL match, their players zipping across the virtual ice in a blur of motion.

"No, no, no!" Lee yelled, his face scrunched up in concentration as he mashed the buttons frantically. "Don't let him get past you, you idiot!"

Luke cackled, his fingers flying over his own controller. "Too late, bro! That's what you get for picking such a weak-ass team."

Lee let out a growl of frustration as Luke's player scored a goal, the tinny sound of a horn blaring from the speakers. "Lucky shot," he grumbled, elbowing his friend in the ribs. "I'll get you back for that."

"Bring it on, loser," Luke taunted, his grin wide and shit-eating. "I could beat you with one hand tied behind my back."

You leaned against the doorframe, shaking your head in amusement as you watched them bicker and shove at each other like overgrown children. It was moments like these that made you forget all about the stresses and uncertainties of adulthood, transporting you back to simpler times.

"Having fun, boys?" you asked, your voice cutting through their competitive banter.

Two heads swiveled in your direction, identical expressions of surprise on their faces. "Oh, hey, Y/N," Lee said, his annoyance melting into an easy smile. "Didn't see you there."

"Yeah, we were just schooling each other in the art of hockey," Luke chimed in, puffing out his chest. "Wanna see me kick your brother's ass?"

You snorted, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering into the room. "As much as I'd love to witness that thrashing, I actually came up to see if you guys wanted any snacks. Though from the looks of it, you've already got enough beef to feed a small army."

Lee rolled his eyes, chucking a pillow at your head which you deftly dodged. "Har har, very funny. But yeah, some snacks would be awesome. I'm starving."

"When are you not starving?" you teased, ruffling his hair affectionately. "I swear, you're like a human garbage disposal."

"Hey, I'm a growing boy!" Lee protested, swatting your hand away. "I need my sustenance."

Luke snickered, ducking as Lee tried to smack him with a controller. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that, buddy. I think you stopped growing in the eighth grade."

As the two dissolved into another round of good-natured ribbing, you couldn't help but laugh, your heart swelling with fondness for these ridiculous, wonderful boys.

They might drive you crazy sometimes, but moments like these? Where you could just relax and joke around, forgetting about all the complications and uncertainties of the real world?

They were priceless.

So you settled yourself on the bed, content to watch Lee and Luke battle it out on the digital ice, their laughter and trash talk washing over you like a balm.

And for a little while, at least, you let yourself forget about the heat of Jack's gaze, the confusion swirling in your heart.

…

you headed back downstairs, the warmth of your impromptu hangout session with Lee and Luke still buzzing pleasantly under your skin, you couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of resolve.

So what if you had some complicated, confusing feelings for Jack? So what if his mere presence sent your pulse racing and your thoughts spiraling into dangerous, uncharted territory? At the end of the day, he was like a brother to you - and that was something you couldn't afford to lose.

Squaring your shoulders, you stepped down into the living room, determined to put some distance between yourself and the magnetic pull of Jack's orbit. You'd just grab another drink, maybe chat with your friends for a bit, and then make some excuse about needing to head home early. Easy peasy.

Ava, Mia, and Sophie were huddled together, their heads bent close as they whispered furiously to each other. The easy laughter and playful banter from earlier had vanished, replaced by a tense, almost electric undercurrent that set your nerves on edge.

"Hey guys," you said cautiously, sinking down into your seat. "What's going on?"

Three pairs of eyes snapped to your face, wide and startled, like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Oh, Y/N! We were just..." Mia trailed off, shooting a panicked look at the other two.

Sophie jumped in, her voice a little too bright, a little too brittle. "We were just talking about... boys. You know, the usual."

But there was something off about her tone, something strained and artificial that set your internal alarms blaring. You'd known these girls long enough to tell when they were hiding something - and right now? They were definitely hiding something.

"Cut the crap, Soph," you said, your gaze flicking between the three of them. "I know you guys better than that. Seriously, what's up? You're starting to freak me out."

"Y/N, we need to talk. It's about Jack."

Your stomach dropped, a cold, creeping dread slithering up your spine at the mention of his name, but you tried to play it cool. "What about him?"

Mia and Sophie exchanged a loaded glance, she nodded encouragingly, their faces grim as Mia spoke up, her voice low and conspiratorial. "We overheard him talking to Luke earlier, and... well, he said some things. About you."

Your mind raced, a thousand possibilities whirling through your head. What could she possibly mean? A cold sense of dread trickled down your spine. "What kind of things?"

Sophie bit her lip, looking uncomfortable. "He was laughing about how easy it was to string you along, how you were just another notch in his bedpost. He even said..." She paused, as if gathering her courage. "He said he had a bet going with his teammates to see how fast he could get you into bed."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from your lungs. It couldn't be true. Jack wouldn't... he couldn't...not after tonight.

But even as you tried to deny it, doubt began to creep in, insidious and corrosive. All those moments between you - the stolen glances, the lingering touches, the whispered promises - had they all been a lie? A cruel game played by a master manipulator?

Anger surged through you, hot and bitter, mingling with the sharp sting of betrayal. How could you have been so stupid, so naive?

"I... I need some air," you mumbled, stumbling to your feet and away from the concerned gazes of your friends.

you wove your way through the crowd of laughing, chattering partygoers, a sudden commotion near the edge of the yard caught your attention. Frowning, you craned your neck, trying to get a better look - only for your heart to plummet straight into your stomach.

There, surrounded by his friends near the Christmas tree, was Jack - and he wasn't alone. A tall, stunning brunette was glued to his side, their arms pressed flush against each other as she leaned into him, whispering something in his ear.

For a moment, you couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but stare as a tidal wave of emotions crashed over you. Hurt, betrayal, and a searing, white-hot jealousy that took your breath away with its intensity.

You watched, frozen, as Jack threw his head back and laughed at something the girl said, throwing his arm over her shoulder. They looked so comfortable together, so natural - like they'd done this a thousand times before.

And just like that, the fragile bubble of denial you'd been clinging to burst, the illusion shattering like glass at your feet.

You were such a fool.

Of course Jack didn't have feelings for you. Of course he saw you as nothing more than his best friend's kid sister, a silly little girl with a hopeless crush. How could you have ever thought otherwise?

For the rest of the night, you did your best to avoid Jack, always keeping him in your peripheral vision but never letting him get too close. Every time you caught a glimpse of his tousled hair or heard the rumble of his deep laugh, your heart clenched painfully, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over you.

But as the party began to wind down and guests started to trickle out, you found yourself cornered by the one person you'd been desperately trying to evade.

"Y/N." Jack's voice was low and urgent as he caught your elbow, spinning you around to face him.

"Nothing," you managed to choke out, your voice cracking traitorously. "I'm fine. I just... I need to go."

But even as you tried to pull away, Jack's grip on your arm tightened, his fingers digging into your skin with a desperate sort of urgency. "Wait, please. Just talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

You yanked your arm from his grasp, glaring up at him with all the fury and hurt you could muster. "I have nothing to say to you, Jack."

His brow furrowed, confusion etched across his unfairly handsome features. "What's going on? You've been avoiding me all night. Did I... did I do something wrong?"

"Why do you care?" you spat, the words bitter and acidic on your tongue. "Shouldn't you be getting back to your girlfriend over there?" Jack blinked, a flicker of confusion passing over his stupidly handsome face. A harsh, bitter laugh tore from your throat. "Don't play dumb, Jack. I know all about your little bet. About how I'm just another checkmark to you."

Jack's eyes widened, shock and disbelief warring on his face. "What? Y/N, that's insane. I would never... who told you that?"

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest like a shield. "Does it matter? The point is, I know the truth now. I know what kind of guy you really are."

He took a step closer, crowding into your personal space, his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. "The truth? The truth is that I'm crazy about you, Y/N. I have been for years." Your heart stuttered in your chest, a traitorous flutter of hope sparking to life. "That girl... she's just a friend. I swear. There's nothing going on between us," he insisted, his voice low and fervent.

One hand came up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that made you ache. "I could never lie to you, Y/N. You're... you're everything to me."

You wanted to believe him. God, how you wanted to believe him. But the seeds of doubt had already taken root, twisting your thoughts into knots.

"I don't... I can't..." you whispered, hating the way your voice shook.

Jack's other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against the solid warmth of his body. "Then let me prove it to you," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Let me show you how much you mean to me."

And then his mouth was on yours, fierce and desperate and achingly perfect, his kiss searing away every last shred of resistance. You melted into him, a broken moan rising in your throat as his tongue swept over yours, claiming and possessing and branding you as his own.

The kiss was electric, a live wire igniting every nerve ending in your body until you felt like you might burst into flames right then and there. His hands slid into your hair, his fingers tangling in the silky strands as he angled your head, deepening the kiss until you were drowning in him, lost to everything but the heat of his touch and the sweet, dark bliss of his mouth on yours.

"It's you, Y/N," he rasped, his voice low and raw with emotion. "It's always been you." 😉

just as you were losing yourself completely in his embrace, a familiar voice cut through the haze of desire, shattering the intimate bubble you'd created. "Where's Y/N?" Lee called out, his footsteps echoing on the stairs.

You and Jack froze, your lips still locked together, your bodies intertwined. What were you doing? Making out with your brother's best friend, in the middle of a party, where anyone could see you...

Jack sensed your sudden tension, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with arousal, but there was a softness there too, a tenderness that made your heart ache.

"Shit," you muttered. Your mind raced, frantically searching for an excuse, any excuse. "I… I'll just tell him I was in the bathroom or we were just talking," you whispered, straightening your clothes with shaking hands.

"Hey," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair back from your face. "It's okay. We don't have to hide."

You swallowed hard, your throat tight with emotion. "But Lee... what if he..."

"What if I what?" Lee's voice was closer now, just on the other side of the door.

Your heart lodged in your throat, fear and guilt and a desperate, wild hope all tangling together in your chest. This was it. The moment of truth. Once Lee walked through that door, there would be no going back.

...

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mintmatcha · 6 months ago

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Inevitable Things: chapter six

Aizawa x reader fic

cw: cisfem reader, no quirks, office au, miscommunications, slow burn. full tags available on AO3 (linked in masterlist)

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Fridays are also the only day where you don’t go directly home after work. Instead of catching the late night Orange line, you snag the Blue and take it down, down, down, right out of the city and it’s the almost surreal serenity of the suburbs. Street lights and cars turn into trees as the sun dips low. Only the ambient sounds of your music and the wheels on the tracks keep you company as you pass familiar stops, all the way to the end of the line.

From there, you walk: down the dark sidewalks, across the one lane roads, stopping only in the little diner along the way. It’s hours later when you finally make it to the doorstep. Before you can knock, the door is ripped open.

“You’re late.” The shortest woman you’ve ever seen stands there, hands on her hips and glasses shoved to the top of her nose bridge. Her scrubs are baggy, but clean, with the name of her service stitched on the pocket: UA Palliative. “I thought you were hit by a car.”

“Sorry, sorry.” you try to laugh her concerns off.

“And you’re sweaty.” Nurse Chiyo clicks her tongue at you as she hands you a face mask. “You should really let him send a car.”

A car would be faster, but you can’t justify someone footing that bill when your metro card has money on it. “The exercise is good for me.”

The woman scrunches her face and gestures to the bag you’re holding. The bottom of the brown paper is practically see through with grease. In the other, you have two styrofoam cups, taken from the diner down the road. “And that food is good for you too?”

“It’s a friday treat.”

“Just don’t feel bad if he’s not hungry,” she sighs with the weight of someone who knows. “Towards the end, the appetite tends to dwindle.”

You slip on your face mask and slip off your shoes. Toshinori Yagi’s home drips with old money; subtle detailing mixed with hints of extravagance, it's the air of wealth with none of the gaudiness. The halls are sparsely decorated, only the occasional artwork and statue to keep you company as you walk to the back of the home, past the luxurious, yet almost never used kitchen and through the abandoned living room. There, in the middle of it all, hangs an oversized picture of Yagi back in his acting days.

If it was anyone else, it might seem egotistical, but the man on the wall might as well be a completely different man, a Yagi from another universe. Bound solely in brightly colored latex, this Yagi grins ear to ear, flexing an obscenely thick bicep for the camera. The Hollywood cameras and actors are a blur in the background. It’s from the set of his first All Might movie-- the one you’ve seen hundreds of times. The longer you stare, the more jagging it is. At 55, Yagi is twice the man that he was in his twenties, but a quarter of the size. All of the important pieces are there -his smile, his laugh, his energy- but there’s a part of him, always locked away in a time where this picture was taken.

You press on into the study. This room is a stark contrast from the rest of the house; it’s cluttered, all flat surfaces stacked with magazines and printed articles. Coloring pages litter the floor, in between broken crayons and pencils.

In between it all is a stick of a man, dirty blonde hair buzzed short enough you can see the shape of his skull. He’s pouring himself over some reading, tired eyes tracing the page with a monotonous haze. He’s lost weight again; you can see it in the sharp dip of his cheeks.

“Happy Friday.” You rap on the door frame and he jolts up in surprise. Hand over heart, he laughs in delight, even though he knew you were coming. “How are you?”

“I thought-” He inhales. You can’t remember all of the details of what’s happened to him, but you know one of his lungs is practically nonfunctional and the other struggles keeping up. “You’d be celebrating your birthday.”

“You remembered.”

“Of course.” He pushes up to stand, but you wave him back down. “You should be. Out with friends.”

“I’m happy where I am, sir.” You place everything on the table in front of him and then retreat to your side, your drink still in hand. Once you’re far enough away - six feet- you take off your mask. “Chocolate Peanut Butter shake and extra crispy fries, just for you.”

It’s his favorite. No, it doesn’t have the nutrition he should be getting, but… well, he’s going to die no matter what. Let the man have a fucking milkshake. He takes it in both hands, like he’s cradling an award or a piece of gold.

The first time cancer struck him, Toshinori Yagi decided to leave acting and do something with his money. He didn’t have a family to take care of -- and his sister is independently wealthy-- so he invested in medical technology. He hired a team that knew better than him, put some of them through school, and grew a rather successful business from the ground up, no formal training of his own. Now, ironically enough, he’s wealthier than ever, and still pouring it into product development.

“You do too much.” He picks the darkest fry of the group and crunches down on it.

It’s the least you can do. Isolation is taxing; you don’t mind sacrificing a bit of time and $19.76 for a quick meeting and meal. You settle down in your usual spot- a fluffy velvet chair in the corner of the room- and take a long sip from your own drink.

“How are things with Shouta?”

You choke so hard it goes up your nose. How did he know? Did the interns figure it out and pass along the word to the whole office? How are you going to explain to your boss that you’ve sexted his colleague? Or did Aizawa tell him? Oh, what if he shared those pictures--

“Wh-what about him?”

Yagi gives you a strange, tired look, brow knitted with a kind concern. “You called me- about his employee?”

You physically sigh with relief; no one knows. Everything is good; you need to stop panicking. Aizawa won’t share the pictures; it’d ruin his career faster than it’d ruin yours. Besides, he’s apparently embarrassed of you, so why would he even show you off? “Oh, well, everything’s good. Kaminari is back in the office.”

Your boss chews a single fry for a long while. A melancholic twang stirs inside you. No, you haven’t known him as long as some people, but over the years you’ve gotten attached. He’s a fair man, a good one too. Watching him waste is… it’s hard. Plain and simple. On the books, you say that you visit for work, but it’s honestly a social call, something to quell your worries.

“He wasn’t very happy when-- I called,” Yagi draws in from his nasal tube as he talks sometimes and it cuts his words short.

“Yeah, I know.” That’s an understatement. You chew on your straw as you try to decide how to respond. “Aizawa had some choice words for me afterwards.

The look on Yagi’s face tells you that he already knew that. Word always makes it back to the big boss one way or another; even sick, he always has his fingers in every pie.

“Don’t let him-” He runs out of breath in a weird spot. “Push you around. He’s a strong personality.”

That’s an understatement too. You wish you could stomp your feet and demand for his removal, but unfortunately Aizawa is very, very good at his job. Besides, you don’t especially want him fired. Maybe just… a series of paper cuts everyday for the rest of his life. Or that his train never comes on time. Nothing serious.

“Trust me- I won’t.” You throw an arm up and flex. “I can put up a fight.”

“No fighting.” The man tries to give you a stern look, but it just looks a bit silly. As demanding as it sounds, it's like being scolded by a grandfather; there’s too much affection between you for anything to feel threatening. “Don’t wage any wars in my office.”

“No promises!” you tease. “Ready to go over reports?”

He smiles back, those hollow cheeks pulling into tiny apples. “Of course.”

…

It’s late when you finally make it home. Yagi had forced you into a car, calling it a birthday gift, and the drive was long and quiet. The driver turned on some soft music, songs with the tinkle of piano, and you almost dozed off by the time he rolled into your apartment complex.

You kick your heels off and strip out of your work clothes as you enter your apartment, letting everything stay where it falls. In the wake of Touya, your place is pretty much empty, with the carpet still pressed in spots where lamps and tables used to be and a jammed lock that won’t click closed. The less time you spend here, the better. You throw yourself onto the couch -something too big to take, apparently- and flick on the television. The usual mindless garbage you like is already on; perfect background noise as you play on your phone.

There’s nothing super new going on. Couple of group chat notifications. Nemuri had texted you to check in-- so did Hizashi. And-

Aizawa’s unopened messages stare at you. There’s no reason to read those texts, right? It’s just mindless sex talk. In fact, he probably doesn’t want you to ever see those texts again.

…Unless he said something important. Maybe he had told you to play dumb at work! Oh, that would open its own can of worms, but at least it would explain why he said to forget everything-

Wait, that wouldn’t make sense. You two were alone at that point. He could have been normal or said something like ‘wow, love your tits!’ or--

Ugh. He wouldn’t say that! Ugh!

You pull on your messaging app again. You need to get this over with.

-> I bet you looked so pretty when you came.

The preview still makes your skin prick with unwanted excitement. The lust nipping at your ankles isn’t easy to ignore as you tap the button and open the conversation. The immediate visage of your words, your drunken musings and flirtations, makes you physically cringe. Luckily, the new messages take up enough space to keep you from seeing your own nude visage.

The first response hits you like a truck.

-> Do you have any idea what I’d do to lick your fingers clean? What I’d do to smell your perfume on your skin?

The thrum of your heartbeat goes funny for just a flash of a moment and you have to shake off any semblance of arousal. No-- you do not like this. There’s absolutely nothing sexy about that thought! You don’t want the warmth of his tongue or the tickle of his breath against your pulse point, or that little bit of scruff against your lips-

The video is below the first message. It’s paused on an out of focus still, but you can make out the golden touched skin of his stomach and the blur of hand. Heat flickers in your core at that, but you tense your legs and try to ignore it.

Get yourself together. It’s just a fucking jerk off video. You scroll right by it.

-> Look at what you do to me. It’s all for you.

There’s a couple of minutes between that text and the final one.

- >I think you fell asleep. Talk in the AM.

And… that’s it. Nothing else.

That told you nothing, other than the fact that Aizawa Shouta is just like any other man: a horny freak. A sexy, amazing texter of a freak, but still a freak regardless! When you move, you can feel the wetness between your legs spread against your pussy lips.

You turn over and try to focus on the medical drama that’s onscreen. Ugh. Ugh! You're over this man and his fucking bipolar attitude and his work bullshit and his, his, his….

The click on the wall ticks away.

His kind of alluring demeanor.

You turn back to your phone. Maybe the video has an answer. Yeah.

The volume on your phone thrums with audio, low and deep, when you click the image. It takes you a second to realize it’s a groan- unabashed and loud- and you swear it resonates deep down into your own lungs.

This video is aimed a bit higher than the other and is shot from farther away, probably resting on a desk from the looks of it. It feels silly that you ever confused him with Touya. Shirt clutched between his teeth, Aizawa’s skin is a deeper color, completely untattooed, and his chest is filled out with weight. A broad, thick hand is white knuckle tight around his cock, glazed and dripping with wetness. It’s thick, oh god, it’s thick, and he’s holding it so tightly that it must hurt. Your jaw aches at the sight of it. Everything about him is wide//, from his cock to his thighs to his slightly soft middle.

A bead of precum rolls from his tip as he slowly drags his hand up and back down. His entire body jumps and twitches with the sensation, a red blush tickling down his chest and another moan on his lips, muffled by the fabric of his black shirt. He makes the same sound again, this one softer, almost affectionate--

And you realize something that feels like a punch to the gut.

He’s saying your name.

Heat flushes your body. Oh, you can barely breathe out of fear you’ll miss something. With a high, tight sound, Aizawa’s body goes stiff, but his cock kicks as he comes undone. Spend splatters down his chest and onto his black shirt, pearl string after pearl string. Just like everything about him, it’s too much.

And then the video ends.

You digest this for a long moment. Then, you watch it again. And a third time.

There's a tremor in your hands as you put your phone down. Okay, that didn't give you any information, but it- well-

Fuck, it was hot. Really fucking hot. Unfortunately, terribly, awfully, horrendously hot. You want to scream and kick and rub your clit just a little, because all you need is a little friction and you'll cum for him again--

No. You can't give that victory to him, not again. Even if Aizawa will never know about it, the universe will.

You grip the remote and turn up the television's audio, trying to shift your focus on to the interpersonal drama on the screen. You’re stronger than this. The little thing between your legs does not dictate your behavior!

You don’t jack off that night.

Or the following night.

Or the following.

No, you resist. You punish yourself for even entertaining the idea of cumming to the idea of him again.

Monday morning you are unsurprisingly cranky when you settle into your desk. Kicking off your shoes and booting up your computer, you stretch in your chair and try to pop the kink in your shoulder. Thirty must be catching up with you, because you didn’t sleep well all weekend. Every muscle in your back is bunched, but the little bits of movements seems to be helping-

“Jesus fucking christ, I'm sweating through my fucking shirt.”

Bakugo's accent slips out as he gripes, pulling his shirt collar away from his neck as he walks. It’s easy to forget that he and Izuku grew up in the same hometown, but when he’s genuinely pissed, that homecooked Southern twang comes out. You look up to see what's gotten him so aggravated before nine. Sweat dampens his hair and glitters his skin. Oh, and he's right, that white shirt is absolutely clinging to his middle, into that tight, tiny, toned, slutty little waist of his--

Oh, god. You slam your foot into the edge on your desk in hopes the pain douses whatever horny monster had overtaken you. Is this just life now? Practically drooling over every man with a pulse? Bakugo Katsuki is gay and very much not your type-

“You okay?” Izuku gives an awkward laugh. He and Denki are apparently right behind Bakugo, equally worn. Well, almost equally. Denki doesn't seem to be sweaty at all, despite his puffing. “You're like, making this weird face.”

Shit. Quick-- lie. “Cramps.”

“Damn, hate that,” Kaminari grips his stomach in sympathy. The other guys share an uncomfortable glance.

“So-” You change the topic. “Why are you guys..?”

“The elevator is shot.” Bakugo hooks a thumb behind him towards the stairs. “Had to carry this fuck ass bed up to the fifth floor for that meeting today.”

The investor meeting: even though Toshinori Yagi is wealthy, the newest bed prototype still needed outside funding. These fine millionaires require occasional proof that their money is being used well, so once a quarter they get jammed into the nicest room in the building and get a rather boring lecture from the important department heads. You usually sit in and try not to nod off when Enji starts in with the accounting information.

“The entire elevator?” You lean back in your chair and try to see. Sure enough, some technician is fumbling away at the buttons. “No one tell the ADA.”

“Actually, the ADA is a law, not a governing body,” Izuku chirps. “It's enforced by the DOJ, EEOC, and, oddly enough, the DOT-”

“How do you know this shit?” Denki says.

“Healthy curiosity,” Izuku tries to say.

“‘cause he's a fucking genius.” Bakugo says at the same time, louder and more confident. “Using that big head of his all the time.”

Izuku touches his temples with a concerned frown. “You think my head is big?”

“Massive.” Bakugo elbows his lover, all saccharine smiles. “It works for me though.”

Kaminari snorts and the other blonde throws him an icy glare.

“What? You gonna make a joke about massive head?”

Kaminari throws his hands in the air and rolls his eyes, surprisingly annoyed at the jab. “I was going to joke about his head working for you, but whatever! Ruin my fun.”

“As much as I love head jokes-” you interject. “I do need to get work done.”

Kaminari turns to you with the sweetest of smiles, so syrupy that everyone else recoils a bit with suspicion. “Like what?”

“Getting everyone’s powerpoints together, printing out our reports, putting those reports into actual human words and not engineering garbage, greeting our guests-- blah, blah, blah.” Just talking about it makes your head ache. “Plus the other daily reports and---- Kaminari, no.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask!”

“You were going to ask me to do your work again!” you say.

“Come on, please?” He puffs his bottom lip out like a kicked dog. “I have to leave early this week and -”

“Denki, you’re so fucking stupid.” Bakugo groans. He starts to leave and the other two follow behind. “I'm too tired for your shit today.”

“There’s a gay joke hidden in there.”

“I'm going to report you to fucking HR.”

“See you at lunch?” Izuku asks from over his shoulder. You shake your head-- you’ll probably just sneak one of the forgotten italian ice cups from the freezer when no one’s working. There’s so much to do and not quite enough time.

You’re solving that little frozen treat into your mouth when Aizawa makes his appearance. It’s strange to see him so late in the day; pure embarrassment must be keeping him away. His usual sunny yellow sweatshirt means you can’t even pretend not to see him when he rounds the corner.

Aizawa is as he always is; a bit scruffy and properly annoyed. His expression is neutral, if not a bit sour, but the crinkle in his brow is tighter than ever. The bunch to his shoulders only gets higher when he spots you.

This is really the guy that's been tearing you apart? Really? Why couldn't you have fallen for Hizashi or Enji or-- anyone else that isn't wearing a neon hoodie in the office.

“You should really take a proper lunch.” Those deep bags under his eyes are darker than usual, almost purple; he must be drained, but he’s been avoiding the coffee machine. A twang of sympathy hits you-- lack of caffeine might actually kill the guy.

When he walks towards you, you're reminded of how pretty he is, even without proper sleep. High cheekbones, smooth olive tone skin-

Your fighting spirit almost fades, but the post it note taped to your monitor catches your eye. Be mean. Yes, that's right.

“Well, uh. What do you want?” Your tone is a bit snappy.

His eyebrows twitch up in momentary surprise, but Aizawa recovers quickly.

“The elevator won’t be fixed until tomorrow.” He raps his knuckles against the wood once. “Move the investor’s meeting from the top floor.”

“Say please.”

Aizawa is half turned and midstride when he realizes what you said. He looks back at you, brow knit.

“Excuse me?”

“I said.” You hit the spacebar with a bit too much force. “Say please.”

“I-” You expect him to fight or argue, but he just sighs, hands on his hips in defeat. “You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't demand things. Can you please move the investor’s meeting from the top floor down to the ground floor? Thank you.”

That was more sincere than you expected. Your stiff upper lip almost wobbles. Almost.

“No.”

He gives you the most deadpan stare you’ve ever seen. “What do you mean, no?”

“I said no.” You push back from the desk and let your wheeled chair roll away. “There’s no reason to move it. The room upstairs is already set up for the meeting-- full demo bed included. I’m not moving everything.”

A muscle tightens in his jaw. Seems like that good attitude is on a short fuse. “There's a second demo. I'll have the boys wheel it into the meeting room on this floor-”

“It’s a less finished model though, right?”

“That's…” Aizawa huffs. You know you’re right and so does he. “Yes. Sure. A less complete model, but it’s still leagues ahead of what they saw last time- ”

“We shouldn’t use it.” You have no right bossing him around, but you try to embody Bakugo and his cunt-like behavior. “They are going to see the best we have to offer. Besides, the fifth floor meeting room is bigger and nicer-- and it's already set up.”

“I-” He leans forward, arms crossed on to your desk. It’s not threatening, but rather humble, as he meets your eye. The silver healed skin of his scar catches the light differently than the rest of his face. “It’s four full flights of stairs.”

“And you can walk.”

A beat passes. Then another. Aizawa stares at you, dark eyes hooded with exhaustion.

“I have never, ever thought of you as a cruel person.” He doesn’t blink the entire time he speaks, deep, endless black eyes boring into yours. “But time and time again, you show me that side of you. “Well-” You don’t blink either. “I’ve always thought you were awful.

“Fuck you,” he grits out, quiet but with an edge. His lips are curled so high you can see his gum line.

You should let it die here. Let him walk away. Escape with your dignity.

But your teeth and tongue are sharp, and the look on his face is only sharpening their edges, so follow the instinct and go in for the kill. As you stand, you lean on to your hands and push yourself face to face to Aizawa. Unabashed, unafraid, unblinking.

“You wish you could.”

His face collapses. Then, it hardens again, even tighter and more disgusted than usual. The flat ridge of his nose is crinkled with a snarl, eyes narrowed so thin they're practically closed. When he pushes away to stand, Aizawa jams his hands into his sweatshirt and flexes his jaw, up and down like he's chewing on every insult and curse he wants to throw your way. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again with a deep exhale.

“Fine.” He says through closed teeth. “Fifth fucking floor.’

And with that, he turns and marches off back down the hall.

By the time you breathe again, you realize your hands are quaking. The adrenaline is still pumping through your veins, rushing your heart faster and faster. This must be how a marathon runner feels when they cross the finish line-- because this is victory.

Sorry, Yagi. War has been waged.

You did say no promises.

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murdrdocs · 1 year ago

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getting a small drawing of abby’s tattooed when mike proposes <3 the ring is your commitment to love mike and the tattoo is your commitment to love abby <333

this is sick in the bestest of ways :(

there's a ring on your finger, simple and minimalistic, nothing too extravagant. but you don't need extravagant. you don't want extravagant, either. you like the pure life you have now with mike and abby, and the ring on your finger is a reminder of your commitment.

but only to him. not to the little girl who hangs onto your every word. not to your new partner in crime who desperately wants to replicate your unset aesthetic. not to the person you smile with the most.

you're thinking on the subject one day whenever abby shows you a new drawing, smile big especially with the final teeth she's grown in. you smile down at it, too, like you always do, but your sights zone in on the three sets of hands clasped together.

it's your suggestion and abby is delighted to tag along with you. she watches with wonder as the artist presses the machine needle to your skin. she holds your hand when you wince and sweetly asks you if you're okay, actual concern in her voice when you shut your eyes tight.

you reward yourself with ice cream after, another expense added to the day but you couldn't care less. through licks and words full of chocolate, you and abby ogle at the permanent drawing on your skin, abby touching it over the second skin every few moments as she continuously breathes out sounds of wonder.

"i wonder how long it'll take mike to notice." abby poses the question as a hypothetical, nothing but the thought pattern of a child spoken aloud. but you like the sound of it, and you suggest keeping it a secret, abby delightedly pantomiming zipping her lips and tucking the key into your pocket in response.

you put her question to the test when you arrive home, bellies full from ice cream and a subsiding ache in your arm.

mike kisses you like usual, ruffling abby's hair when the two of you enter. abby giggles, shooting looks at you from around mike. you press a finger to your lips behind his back, satisfied that mike chalks abby's behavior up to her playful nature.

it's not until a few hours later whenever the three of you are watching HGTV (you and abby's new favorite channel) in the living room after dinner that mike notices. he's playing with your hand like always, twirling your ring around your finger, lifting and pressing his rough hands into your knuckles periodically. he traces his hand along the top of your hand, leading to your wrist, and that's when he stops.

his hands still, you think his breathing does, too, and you send him a glance. you don't say anything, he doesn't say anything, abby comments on the chosen wall color of the tv couples house.

then mike lifts your wrist, turns it around, and when his eyes meet yours they appear a little more glassy. "what's this?"

you lick your lips. "a tattoo."

you see abby's bob tousling in the wind she creates when she whirs her head around in your peripheral vision. you assume she's smiling and eager now that you've unlocked her zipped lips.

"of what?" mike's eyes bounce between his two beaming girls.

abby handles this one for you, bouncing to her feet. "it's my drawing!" she runs to the kitchen table, grabbing the drawing from a couple of weeks ago, and showing it to mike. "see!"

mike stares at the drawing, then at your wrist, taking in the three pairs of stick figure hands that are linked together, bordering your left hand.

when he stares back at you, you interpret his look as bewilderment. panic sets in and you start to consider that maybe mike didn't want you to commit to his sister like this. maybe this is too much. maybe you should've asked his opinion. maybe he–

and then mike kisses you. soft, yet passionate, and slow. you distantly hear abby's expression of distaste from beside you both, but the only thing you can really focus on is mike running his thumb back and forth over the second skin covering your tattoo.

#mschmidtsworld!#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt #celeste writes fnaf

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too-much-tma-stuff · 6 months ago

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Healing is Slow, but Inevitable (part 7)

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“So, what are you?” Jason asked about a week after the meeting with Batman, a few days after Dick left again after his unscheduled weekend visit, and they hadn’t really talked about it. Danny had been flighty and tense for days afterwards so Jason hadn’t wanted to bring it up. Now that Danny seemed calm again, curled up in bed with him after a decent day and some great sex, it seemed like the best time he was going to get.

Danny sighed and turned his head to hide his face against Jason’s shoulder for a moment, but he stayed relaxed and he wasn’t running, which were good signs. “I was kept prisoner for almost two years by the Ghost Investigation Ward, what do you think I am,” Danny muttered a little bitterly.

“But you’re not a ghost, right? I mean you eat, and sleep and I can feel your heartbeat right now,” Jason said, pressing his hand Danny’s chest, where his heart was indeed beating, slower than most people’s but that was normal for Danny. Then, right under Jason’s hand, Danny’s heart stopped beating.

Jason panicked and pulled back only for Danny to catch his wrist and keep his hand there, Danny pushed himself up a little and stared down at Jason. He seemed fully alive, and fine, even though his heart still wasn’t beating under Jason’s hand. Danny sighed and lay back down, the feeling of a heartbeat returning under Jason’s hand, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I’m what’s called a Halfa. It’s a stupid name but I’m not going to come up with a new one. It’s not entirely accurate either, since I’m both 100% alive, and 100% dead.” He saw the lost look on Jason’s face and backed up quickly to explain more. “There’s a place called the Ghost Zone, or the Infinite Realms, it’s a world between worlds that links to every living world and contains every afterlife.” He was tracing little patterns on Jason’s chest as he talked. “Portals open to it in other worlds sometimes, natural things that form and collapse again quickly.

“Halfas are made when one of those portals happen to open, directly on top of and into, a living person. It kills them, then because of the power of the realms their soul forms a ghost immediately, resurrects them and slams that fully formed ghost back into the living body, bonding them back together and creating a living-ish, ghost. I’m the only true halfa in existence right now, and I’m… unique, even for my kind. Because the portal that made me was the first man-made one, it was far more stable and more powerful than the natural ones, meaning that I got a double dose of energy.

“Halfas are already a powerful species, the perfect balance between life and death, a bridge between worlds partially immune to the weaknesses of both. But I’m strong even compared to other halfas, at least that’s what I’m told by the Ancients. Like I said, I’m the first one in about five thousand years, and the only one in existence right now, so I’ve never exactly met someone else like me.”

“Holy shiit,” Jason whispered before falling silent. He started to comb his fingers through Danny’s hair so he would know Jason wasn’t upset or mad as he took a while to process all Danny had told him. “You don’t have to talk about it but if you’re that powerful then… how did the GIW manage to capture you?”

“My parents were the ones who captured me,” Danny murmured, hiding his face against Jason’s neck. Jason’t breath caught in his throat. “They were ghost hunters all my life, they built the portal but I didn’t want to hurt them. I was still trying to talk to them, to convince them I really was still their son. Then the GIW found out they had me and demanded my parents hand me over. When my parents refused and tried to defend ‘their discovery’ The GIW just… blew up the house. Because of my powers I survived, no one else did. While I was still in shock they took me.

“It broke my heart, in a literal sense. I want to show you something,” He said and sat up again, legs crossed. Jason sat up as well, mirroring Danny’s position and watching him curiously. “Humans have organs and brains and all those squishy, meaty bits. Ghosts have a core, it contains everything we are, everything else will just reform around it as long as the core is undamaged.” He pressed his hands against his own chest and after a moment, he drew something out.

It was an orb of what looked like blue stone, but it was cracked, pretty extensively, in a similar pattern of cracking to Danny’s lightning scar. “What they did, it cracked my core,” Danny said looking down at it baleful. “Literally broke me. If I was a full ghost it would have destabilized and ended me, my humanity kept me together. Which just meant more for them to experiment on,” He said with a bitter little laugh.

“Danny,” Jason murmured, a heartbroken little sound as he sat forward and reached towards Danny. Danny tensed, and looked fearful for just a moment, but he didn’t pull away. Instead he opened his hands and held his core, his heart, out towards Jason. With permission Jason traced the branching pattern gently with a finger, it felt cool and smooth under his fingers, energy tingling in his fingertips and the cracks rasping slightly against Jason’s calluses. Danny shuddered and gasped as all the tension bled out of him under Jason’s gentle touch, his eyes fell closed, and his expression was peaceful now.

“It’s been getting better,” Danny said, opening his eyes again after a moment and looking up at Jason adoringly. “Since I met you, you gave me purpose again and I can feel the cracks healing, it’s slow, but it was always going to be.”

Jason pulled his hand back and Danny pressed his core back to his chest. “I’m glad you’re healing. You’ve been helping me a lot too, healing is always slow, but we’ll do it together. And you’ll tell me if I ever make it worse, or if there’s anything I can do to help won't you?”

“Ya we will, but I think I’m well enough to face the GIW soon. I’ll start looking for them along with your people. If they’re still around I don’t think it will take me that long to find them,” Danny told Jason softly. “As for helping, just don’t leave me, and don’t die. I don’t want to think about what I could become without you to ground me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll be right there with you when we take down the GIW. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I love you,” Jason promised, pulling Danny back against his chest.

“I love you too,” Danny sighed, snuggling against Jason tiredly.

-----------

Danny hadn’t been kidding when he said he would be able to find the GIW quickly when he started to look. It turned out that the GIW were sort of using ghosts in their firewall? It made it next to impossible for regular people to find, or hack it, but made it all the easier for Danny to track down. He found five bases besides the one that he had destroyed during his escape. Which was more than Jason had expected, though none of them seemed to be that big. According to the files two had ‘specimens’, so they were going to hit those two first and free whatever free whatever poor souls were still trapped there.

Jason had yet to leave Crime Alley since his takeover of the turf, but it would have to happen eventually. They would only be gone for one, maybe two days so it was a good first test.

They had a basic plan; break in and rely on stealth till they had located the prisoners, release them, then cause as much damage and havoc as they could on the way out. Danny would be the power house, taking the chance to really let loose in a way he hadn’t in a long time. Jason would follow and plant explosives so once they got out they would leave nothing to salvage.

They had a bit of a discussion about when to go. During the night there would be fewer people there making it safer to break in, but the disadvantage of that was they would take out fewer GIW agents. The fewer of those assholes still walking the earth the less likely it was anyone would come for Danny. There would be no one to continue the cycle of violence if everyone else was dead. In the end they still decided to go at night. If only because they would be less likely to walk in on someone actively being tortured, which would be too much for Danny. They needed to avoid Danny having a panic attack in enemy territory if at all possible.

So Jason wrangled his people into readiness to be left alone and keep things ticking over, and told a few selected people where they were headed in the unlikely case they needed rescue. Jason had started planning a ride too, since unlike the Bats they didn’t have their own private jet. But Danny told him there was no need, just get them out of Gotham and Danny could handle the rest. Jason was curious about what he meant by that, but when he asked Danny gave him the cheeky smile that promised it was a surprise Jason would like. Jason decided to wait and see.

Once they were ready they left Gotham at Sunset, Danny on the back of Jason’s bike with his arms tight around his waist and pressed against his back. Normally when they rode like this Jason could feel Danny’s vibrating purr against his back but today Danny was still and silent, probably too tense to purr. Jason understood, no matter what they found or how well this went it was bound to be triggering as hell. Danny was walking right back into one of the facilities where he had been experimented on and tortured. Jason didn’t think there was anything he could say to make Danny feel better, so he mostly stayed quiet and let Danny think his thoughts.

“Okay, we’re far enough away I think. Pull over please, far enough that we won’t be easily seen from the road. I haven’t done this in… more than a year, I’m not totally sure how it’s going to go,” Danny said suddenly and Jason nodded, looking for a place to pull off the road and into the woods. Finding a good place to hide his bike, and themselves for whatever Danny was planning on doing.

Jason found a place to park his bike and let Danny get off before him, once they were off he laid the bike down where it wouldn’t be easily found, and turned on his personal tracker so he would be able to find it later. “Alright, ready when you are. I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve been so mysterious about,” Jason encouraged his boyfriend, taking off his motorcycle helmet to switch it for his Red Hood one.

Danny nodded and took a few steps back and took a deep breath, “I really haven’t done this in years. Not since I escaped for the first time. It made it easier for them to track me,” Danny explained before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

As Jason watched Danny started to change, not all at once, but the appearance Jason knew started to flicker and fade in patches. It looked like he was molting, and like a computer glitching, leaving him looking… different. The shape of the costume was a lot like his Hyena get-up, but it was entirely monochrome, and this Hyena had been dead for a long time. The suit was black with start-white protruding ribs wrapped around his chest like armor, white knee and elbow pads, and a white stripe down the front of his boots added to the skeletal effect. Danny’s mask had turned from a muzzle to a Hyena skull with a tuft of white hair showing above it. When Danny opened his eyes they were pits of toxic green glowing from behind the Hyena’s empty eye sockets.

Jason would have frozen up completely, if he hadn’t noticed Danny was swaying slightly. Jason jumped forward just in time to steady Danny before he could fall. Danny leaned against him, he felt cooler than usual and… insubstantial in an odd way.

“That felt different then it used to,” Danny murmured, putting a hand to his forehead. He felt the mask and blinked before glancing down at himself. “Huh, I knew this form was connected to emotions and shit, but I didn’t expect it to change this much,” He murmured, running his hands over the mask and then back through his hair, pushing his hood back to show his hair was all white now, and moving like it was underwater.

“What… is this?” Jason asked, combing his fingers through Danny’s hair which felt like the softest, unmelting, fresh fallen snow between his fingers.

“My ‘ghost form’. I told you I was as dead as I was alive, this is my dead form,” Danny said gesturing down as himself before fully gaining his footing and standing up on his own. He took off the mask (Jason was far more relieved then he’d admit that Hyena skull was a mask, he hadn’t been sure) and smiled at him. Danny still looked very much like himself, though his mouth was wider, his teeth were sharper and his skin had the very distinct deathly pallor of a frozen corpse.

Jason gave a considering hum and cupped Danny’s face, leaning down to kiss him. His lips felt cool and there was no pulse against Jason’s lips, but they were soft and Danny kissed back with the same sweetness as always. “You look badass as hel,l Moonlight,” Jason told Danny who blushed a soft blue and smiled at him, pulling him back in for another quick kiss.

“Alright, like this I can get us to the base,” Danny said, pulling the mask back on before his feet lifted off the ground and he hovered a few feet up. “Carrying you should be no problem, we’ll be silent, and if needed I can cloak us. We just have to land a ways out because I’m sure they have ghost detectors and shields. I’ll have to change back to get through. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great,” Jason agreed easily. He’d been around the Supers for years as a kid, he was used to being carried like that.

“Great,” Danny cheered, swooping over Jason and grabbing him under the arms and lifting him up with no apparent effort. He held Jason as they took off towards base, Danny flew fast but Jason’s helmet protected his eyes from the wind so it was fine.for Danny to change back into his human form. It looked like reversed timelapse footage of a flower losing its petals. Jason watched in awe as the man he knew and loved reformed around this odd, pale being.

When it was done Danny shook out his limbs and rolled his head on his neck like he was having to resettle himself in his body before he nodded firmly once. “Alright, let’s go,” Danny said, checking his mask one more time.

Jason nodded and made a hand sign to advance, reminding Danny from here on they wouldn’t be using words. Danny nodded and fell in just behind Jason as they approached the facility. They had found a weak point in the plans for ventilation and used that to get in. This place was clearly designed to keep things in more than out, and not with humans in mind, it was almost embarrassingly easy to sneak in. They hid as a couple of agents walked by, assholes in white coats and dark glasses, edgy as hell and obviously overly full of themselves. Jason was looking forward to ripping through them on the way back out.

As they moved through the building Jason planted bombs at strategic locations ready to be detonated once they had cleared the facility of anyone who actually deserved to live. They didn’t want to leave anything standing. The less of the information and weapons that survived to potentially fall into the wrong hands, the better.

In the labs on the lower floors they found a few ‘blob ghosts’ as Danny called them, and a bunch of equipment, a couple of which Danny helped himself to. Jason didn’t bother because he didn’t know what any of this stuff was, they’d probably do more harm than good in his hands.

Deeper in the labs they found a few proper ghosts too, locked in cells Jason managed to hack and get open. Danny darted in and started murmuring softly to a woman he called Ember, and who called him Babypop with shock and grief before he used one of the tools he’d stolen to open some sort of portal and sent her on. He found a thing he called Shadow, but that one didn’t talk, and Jason didn’t see it though he believed Danny that it was there. Danny used the portal gun to send them on too.

They were reaching the end of the facility and Jason was glad they’d only found two sentient beings, he would have much preferred None but it could have been a lot worse. This was the largest facility so if they only had two actual ‘ghosts’ the others would probably have one at most.

They moved through the rest of the labs quickly, staying just long enough to clear them of anyone who might be held there, but not lingering over metal tables, scalpels, lasers, and saws. Jason was trying not to think about Danny strapped down to one of those, cut open and either begging them to stop or dissociating and staring, he wasn’t sure which would be worse.

Finally they reached the deepest room in the facility, Jason was expecting another lab, until he saw the security pad at the door. The previous labs had been in a complex, no codes or cards needed to get into each individual one once you were on the floor. What was special about this lab? The security was decent too, nowhere near as easy to get through as previous doors.

“Keep watch Hyena, this is going to take a minute,” Jason murmured into their mic and Danny nodded, flitting to the end of the hall to keep watch while Jason worked on the security.

It took him about fifteen minutes and thankfully no one came around, they must have hourly patrols or something. Danny glanced over at the sound of the door unlocking and Jason nodded, gesturing for him to come. He stepped inside, getting the full view of a room full of wires, monitoring equipment, and what looked like a cloning tube or stasis pod. Holy shit was the GIW somehow in league with CADMUS?

There was a girl floating in the tube, maybe fourteen or fifteen, small for her age. Her hair was black but he couldn’t see much else. He heard Danny come into the room behind him and let out a soft gasp.

“Oh god,” Danny breathed softly. Jason looked over at Danny expecting to see his own surprise reflected in Danny’s face. No, he was shocked, yes, but he looked heartbroken and horrified. There was absolutely recognition there. “Ellie.”

#danny phantom #dc x dp #jason todd #fanfiction #dead on main #my writing #Hood and Hyena #dani phantom #GIW

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crow-raven-crow · 1 year ago

Note

Hey it's me again 👋 the one who asked for Donna Beneviento.

I know she's a shy babe and mostly in the fics I see her like sub?But I can't get enough to see her other side.We want it! We need it!

Can you do something like reader's been teasing her extremely (clothes,talks, actions,etc..) knowing she will only turn red but r seem to pushes her a little too far and ended up facing dominant Donna? Like punish sex and maybe aftercare.

Thanks for reading

-BB 🤍

𝐁𝐞 𝐀 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥..

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 - [𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+]

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐟!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: ~2.8k 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fluff, established relationship, NSFW, dom!Donnna, sub!Reader, teasing, pinning, marking, scratching, begging kink, slight degradation, slighting biting, oral sex, vaginal fingering, edging paired with slight orgasm denial, alludes to future sex

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: see above

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

AO3 link in title ✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

You pulled the key from the door as you stepped inside, a soft creak emitting from the hinges as the heavy door swung open, revealing the foyer. You guided your hand out slowly, gesturing the doll maker inside as you held the door open for her. Your shared laughter echoed through the halls, absorbing themselves within your shared home.

The golden glow emanating from the candles that hung on the chandelier casted an enchanting light within the home, bringing out the deep mahogany of the polished wood that made up most of the home. The age of the home brought a comfort out within it, the wood absorbing the flickering flames and creating a warmth that served as a refuge from the snow that sat beyond the walls.

Once the door shut behind you, your gaze met Lady Beneviento's, the spark found swirling within them making a smile creep onto your lips. Her veil was already discarded to the side and her hands were held out in front of her expectantly. You stood for a moment, blinking in confusion as you took in the sight of her before you. Her soft laugh broke the silence before she stepped behind you and smoother her hands up your sides and to your shoulders, filling your body with a newfound heat. "Your coat, amore mio.."

Her fingers worked themselves underneath the layer of fabric, gently pulling the coat from your shoulders and handing it on the rack behind her. You grabbed one of her hands as she turned around, pulling her slowly over to you before meeting her lips in a sweet kiss. You felt her relax under your touch, the dinner you both had just been at fading away from her mind as she relished in the safety that you brought to her.

Pulling her from her trance, you guided her into the living room. As you backed away, you watched how she took in each of your movements - the sway of your hips, the effortless grace of your arms, the never ending smile that sat upon your face. To her, each aspect was a manifestation of beauty, causing her heart to swell with admiration for you.

Shifting the pin of the record player made a small gasp leave her lips, the familiar sound of her favorite song starting to play filling the manor. The notes shifted through the air as you came back to her, the satisfaction in her figure mirroring the joy found within her eyes.

"I figured it would be nice to end off a nice dinner with a dance, if you'll have me?" Your hands traced a gentle path up her dress, massaging her shoulders before wrapping your arms around her, successfully pulling her in and starting off the small sways.

"Such a doll for me, hmm?"

"I try."

Soft laughter bubbled from your chests, the love found within you two creating a lightness in the room. Her arms circled around your waist, drawing you closer. Her fingers scaled a tantalizing path down your body, completely away for the garments you showed her beneath the thin fabric only house earlier. The room, though charged with affection, carried the increasing weight of desire as the two of you continued to dance.

You had called her into the bathroom, the black dress you wanted to wear hanging just behind you as you finished off your makeup. As you put away the various products, you rose from the vanity seat, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you heard the click of her heels get closer and closer. It added a sense of anticipation to the air, each step echoing a promise of a tease for her, a promise of the sweet surprise you had for her.

"You called, am-" Her steps came to an abrupt halt, seemingly frozen in the doorway as her eyes raked in your exposed figure. The choice of dark green lace was a deliberate one, allowing one of her favorite colors to swirl around your skin. The lace, starting from secure straps, gradually faded out, growing thinner yet framing your breasts and hips perfectly. Your paired it with matching garters, deciding that stockings would add a nice touch given the dress's slit, which teasingly exposed your legs. You saw the desire starting to burn behind her eyes, and you knew you had gone with the right choice.

"Cat got your tongue, my lady?" Your tone was laced in a tease, being sure to add a sway to your hips as you slowly made your way over to her. Your hands found their place on her hips, your eyes drinking in the slight of her as she was already ready for the dinner ahead of you. Tracing a hand up her figure, you made a slow path between her breasts, along one of her collarbones, and delicately along the column of her throat, easily pulling a shiver from her. You rested a finger underneath her chin, tilting her head slight to meet your gaze. "Or am I just as much of a distraction as I planned to be?"

"Wh-Whats-" She cleared her throat, focusing all the energy within her to not break your gaze, "What's the occasion, doll?"

"Oh, nothing.." You brought your lips to her ear, whispering before littering kisses down her neck. "Just wanted you to know exactly what was underneath my dress while we sit for hours at dinner.."

You quickly pulled away, bringing any and all traces of yourself against her with you, before grabbing your dress and presenting it to her. "Could you help me put it on?"

She took it from your fingers while giving you a nod, undoing the zipper along the back as you turned around. She pulled it over your head, being sure that your arms could easily go through the thick straps of the dress before pulling the rest of it down your body. Her fingers lingered against your hips underneath the fabric, the cool touch against your skin making a small shiver shoot through you. You felt as she took hold of the zipper, slowly pulling it up and covering the skin that only she was allowed sight of, before resting her hands back against your hips.

"Thank you, my love.. Are you ready to leave?" You turned around in her hold, a smile coming to your lips before you kissed her own.

Small chatter turned into a comfortable silence, though there was still an undercurrent of excitement coursing between you two. She lifted her arm up above you, your hand in hers, and prompted you to spin. You did, or attempted to do so, but your heel got caught on a bump in the carpet beneath you. Within the moment, the misstep led to a tumble, and you found yourselves on the floor, laughter filling the room as a blush rose to both of your faces.

You landed on top of her, her arms wrapped securely around you to prevent you from getting hurt. After the laughing had died down, you pulled yourself up a bit, kissing up her neck before planting a soft one against her lips. The blush against her cheeks deepened at your actions, a wave of heat running through both of your bodies as the desire in the room only grew.

You watched as her eyes moved against your form, moving from your dark painted lips, to your dress straps falling off your shoulders, to the sight of your breasts pushing beyond the fabric of your dress - the fall pulling your dress down and uncovering more of your skin. You brought your lips down to her ear, the warmth of your breath traveling against her skin as you spoke, "Like what you see, my lady?"

Maybe it was the suggestive tone of your voice, the pull of your dress, the teasing actions that had been building for hours, but it all caused something within her to snap. The grip she had on your hips tightened as you finished your sentence, causing your breath to hitch, but it didn't prepare you for the other side of the doll maker that you were about to face.

Within an instant, your back was against the floor, hands pinned above you by your wrists as one of her knees settled between your legs. You looked up at her in shock, though it easily morphed into an expression of desire as her lips trailed up your neck, leaving lingering kisses and mirroring the action you had done just moments before. The heat of her breath coursed around your neck while her other hand traveled along your body, pulling fabric out of the way, squeezing and scratching your skin in the claim to be hers.

"You're right.. I do love what I see.." Her voice was low, thick with the lust and desire that had been swirling within her for hours. It didn't falter, didn't stutter as she spoke, a newfound dominance running through her veins and driving her actions. It made a delicious heat begin to pool between your legs. "I think it's just about time you've been taught a lesson.. Isn't that right, doll?"

Your breath hitched, her words making your thighs shut in an attempt to gain some sort of friction, only to make you let out a loud whimper when her knee prevented such. You watched as she pulled away, her lips turning into a smirk as she watch you wreath beneath her. She brought her lips to yours but didn't indulge you in a kiss just yet. They ghosted above yours, mere centimeters apart as she spoke against your lips, "I could get used to a view like this.."

You could only image what you looked like beneath her - shocked, flushed, filled with desire, desperate.. Desperate for her, her touch, her lips, her tongue.. A part of you loved that she enjoyed it, causing a raging flame to ignite inside of you.

You tried pushing yourself up to meet her lips, only for her to pull away at the last second. Amusement filled her features, a wonderful darkness filtering over her eyes that made your core throb. She slowly made her way back to your lips, resting just above them. The close proximity always seemed to make your heart race, the organ hammering in your chest hard enough that you were sure she could feel it against her own. Her perfume made you dizzy with lust, only adding to your arousal as she took over all of your senses. Your voice was breathy, lost in your throat, just above a whisper as you spoke, as you begged for her. "Please, Donna… please-"

She crashed her lips into yours, finally giving you the beginnings of what your craved, stealing all the breath from your lungs and devouring the moans and whimpers that escaped your throat. You felt her tongue brush against your bottom lip only for her to take your bottom lip between her teeth, pulling it as she backed away slightly.

The look of pure desire she was throwing at you only mirrored your own - dark eyes fluttered against each others features behind half lidded eyes, cheeks and chests flushed a pink hue, chests heaving to catch breaths that were willingly stolen away..

Her lips met yours again, but only for a few moments. They trailed down your jawline, plump lips meeting your neck and leaving deep marks against it. You threw your head back as a moan tore through your throat, your back arching as you felt her fingers rubbing against your clit above the fabric of your undergarments.

She continued to kiss down your body, her hands letting go of your wrists and allowing your hands to immediately meet her shoulders. A growl left her throat as she met the fabric of your dress, annoyed with the barrier between her and the rest of the body. She moved quickly, picking you up and bringing you up the stairs to your shared bedroom as one of her hands worked on the zipper of your dress.

The door slammed shut behind her, your body quickly landing on the bed as she pulled the dress off of you. You backed up until your hands met the pillows behind you, watching as the goddess pulled her own dress of her body.

Her pale skin was illuminated by the moon, her body shining in beauty before you. She took her place back above you, hands running along the edges of your lace bra before her lips met your collar bones again.

You were getting drunk on her as she hands smoothed over any and all of your skin. She teeth nipped at your skin, tongue soothing over the marks after pulling away. One of her hands made their way to your back, unclasping your bra and tossing it somewhere within the room.

Her tongue traced over your right bud, making your back arch, only for her to take it in her mouth moments later. Her other hand toyed with the other, smoothing over the bug until both were in stiff peaks. She littered marks across your chest, making sure to give the other bud the same amount of attention before moving kissing down your stomach.

You felt her hand back at your core, her touch light enough against the fabric that it was purely a tease. You bucked your hips slightly, only for her to bite your thigh in response, trailing her tongue over it right after. She did this again and again until she thought you were going to behave, her lips planting a kiss against your mound before she slowly started pulling the fabric down your legs.

She worked at an agonizingly slow pace, lips kissing down one leg and up the other before you felt her tongue lick through your folds. The action made you take in a sharp breath, only for it to get lost in the moan that tore through you. She worked her tongue in and out of you, collecting your juices and moaning at the taste, the vibrations shooting through your body and making a familiar knot form in your lower abdomen.

Your fingers dug into the sheets beneath you as she took hold of your thighs, locking your hips in place as her tongue licked up your slit, only to start circling your clit immediately after. You felt one of her hands shift along your leg, the touch moving underneath your thigh before nimble fingers circled your entrance.

They dipped into your core, the stretch quickly turning into a dangerous pleasure as they pumped in and out of you. They curled in a way that made you see stars, brushing against the spongey spot within you and making moans spill from your lips with ease. Your body burned for her touch, your walls clenching around her fingers and making her groan at the feeling of you.

Her fingers picked up speed, her lips wrapping themselves around your sensitive bud and sucking at the same time. You felt your thighs begin to shake with your impending orgasm, the coil within you tightening a dangerous amount only for you to be left on a high.

She stilled her actions, kissing down your thighs while she looked up at you. Your breathing was heavy, your breasts rising and falling with each intake as you tried to ground yourself from a peak that was taken from you. Just as you were about to speak, her tongue circled your clit again, her fingers moving at a brutal pace as she aimed to give you what you oh so craved..

With every thrust of her fingers you were pushed harder and harder against towards the edge. You felt your mind grow hazy with desire, the amount of lust coursing through you making you putty in ecstasy's hold.

Your knuckled turned white at your hard grip on the sheets, your throat growing sore as she pulled loud moans and whimpers from your chest, her pace never slowing.

Your thighs shook on either side of her head, your climax slamming into you and making you moan out her name. Your body shuddered with the wave of pleasure that consumed you as she helped you rise out for first orgasm of the night.

She gently pulled her fingers from your core, your half lidded eyes watching her taker her fingers into her mouth and lick them clean. Her lips trailed up your body, the gentle touch of her lips making your heart soar before she met your own.

When she pulled away, her eyes met your own, desire still prominent within them. "Don't think for a second that I am done with you tonight, amore mio.."

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐚/𝐧: OKAYYY?? OKAAYYYY AHHAHAH this served as a reawakening of my RE8 brainrot and i dont know what to do this was so fun holy fuck but also holy fuck? 😏

first donna fic done teehee. i might write for her more because she is such a beautiful character, but like all the lords of RE8 i wish they did so much more with them. there is so much backstory and lore missing and i just NEED a whole game or something released just for them. you cant make these characters interesting as hell and only give us crumbs when it comes to their lore

i loved playing around with this side of donna. she is so quiet and shy within the game that it's always interesting for me to see how she can be portrayed

i hope you all liked it! I'm sorry it took me a hot minute to get here, lovely anon;; but i really enjoyed writing this one

xx,

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)

@autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @finnja555 @barbarasstar @vendocrap8008 @gwendolinechristieiscute @lilfartbox1 @agathaandgwenslesbian @lvinhs @elvira-dear @kimiinou @ladybathoryy

ask to be added if you'd like

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

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alexlwrites · 8 months ago

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As REQUESTED! Here's part 3 of "Yoongi who never had a crush... Until you" from my notes app!

This is a little longer than the others due to my commute to work taking a little longer today, so yall can thank the Sao Paulo train system for that!

As I mentioned previously, I am now open to commissions through my ko-fi! So you can buy me a coffee and request a short scenario, whether it be based on this fic, one of my others, or something entirely new! The link to my ko-fi is in my bio!

Anywho! Enjoy!

----

Yoongi had an on going theory - now proven over many many times - that any and all problems he encountered could somehow be traced back to Jimin.

Beer missing from the fridge? Jiminie. His files mysteriously disappearing from his computer, replaced by a bootleg version of The Sims 3? Jimin. The Plague? Park Jimin, that fucking rat.

And once more, in a house party he had no interested being at, poor Yoongi found himself victim of the consequences of his ill-fated association with that god-forsaken gremlin, now smiling smugly from across the circle where his friends and a few acquaintances sat.

"Everyone knows the rules, right?" Jimin said, innocently like he wasn't the cause of Yoongi's on going demise "You spin the bottle and whoever it points to, you have to kiss!"

Yoongi snorted from his place in a chair outside the circle. At 30 years old, he was clearly above such childish games and would never submit himself to such humiliating and depraved behavior...

"I'm here! I'm here! Sorry I'm late!" he heard and he swore time stopped as you, of all people, sat within the circle next to a Jungkook, smoothing down your tennis skirt as you smiled "What are we playing?"

"Spin the bottle!" Jimin smiled grew, a mischievous gleam appearing as he peared at his frozen friend.

Your eyes looked around the circle, falling on Yoongi's a couple feet behind and he swore even the singular hair in his left toe stood up in alert "Yoongi's not playing?" You asked.

Jimin shrugged in despondency "Well, no-"

"Of course I am!" Yoongi threw himself onto the ground, sending a poor unsuspecting Taehyung flying out of the way with a whelp "I love this game!"

Yoongi did not in fact love this game. He loathed it.

They had played several rounds and his bottle was nowhere close to pointing at you. Instead, he kissed Namjoon twice and slapped Taehyung once for putting his slimy tongue out as their faces got closer.

Was he cursed, he wondered, the face of dispirited desperation, watching as Hoseok and Jin made out in a way that could only be described as disproportionately violent. What could he have done in his past lives that would lead to this punishment, the sheer torture of sitting across from you and not getting to kiss you? Had he not earned your affections? Did he not claim your love through the cosmical power of dibs?

Whatever. WhaTEVER! So it would be, he would die alone. A monk amongst 6 manwhores, a fortitude of loneliness, cursed to roam the earth in his loveless state...

Oh, it was his turn. He spinned the bottle thoughtlessly, mind still wondering about the implications of his slowly returning virginity due to solitude.

Oh.

You looked up at him as the bottle pointed straight at your form all the way across the circle and Yoongi swore someone had to call 911 at the way his heart stopped. His condition - simptitis - was worsening by the second.

Someone wheel him into the emergency room - you were crawling across the circle, prowling really, your blouse dipping in a way that left nothing to the imagination, and trust him, he had imagined!

You stopped, kneeling in front of him "Hi, Mr. Min."

Here are some symptoms to look for if you believe you could suffer from simptitis:

-accelerated heart beat

-exaggerated hand sweating

-inability to form coherent thoughts, not to be confused with just being stupid, which Yoongi was starting to think it was his case

-ill timed boners

And, the most common one:

-praise kink

Yoongi seemed to be displaying all of the above at the same time and when you softly asked "Are you okay with this?" All he could do was brace himself and nod.

If Hoseok and Jin's kiss was violent, this one was peaceful, slow, soft and way too passionate for a spin the bottle session. You tasted like sicilian lemon and gin and Yoongi was only but an alcoholic man at your feet, cradling your face to keep you close, refusing to let go of the addictive feeling of your lips on his.

Someone coughed awkwardly and you stepped back, face flushed and chest heaving. You looked deliciously disheveled and Yoongi thought of other circumstances where he could make you look like that again.

Okay, so maybe Jimin wasn't that bad. Maybe he wasn't the physical manifestation of Yoongi's karma. Maybe that phat assed hobbit was up to something with his seventh grade games...

Oh, it was your turn. Maybe Yoongi would get to kiss you again!

Nope. It landed on Jimin, who wasted absolutely no time in bringing your face down to his.

The betrayal? The bro-trayal?

Back stabbing little tinker bell bitch.

Bugger.

Bugger it all to hell.

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts #min yoongi #yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff

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elikajinnie · 24 days ago

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How Can I Choose?

P: Roommates!Heeseung & Jake X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Bonding, Alcohol Drinking, Clubbing, Teasing like LOT of teasing, Possessive Behaviour, Suggestive Content (i mean it), they both kinda whipped for you, Ambigious Ending.

Synopsis: After months of crashing on friends' couches, you finally find a cheap apartment, only to realize your new roommates—Heeseung and Jake—both have feelings for you. As flirtation turns into tension, you must navigate the complexities of living together while deciding how to handle their surprising willingness to share you.

a/n: boaf. baof? BOAF! -- i HOPE the link of the drawing i made of the apartment is accessible! pls tell me if it isnt. anyways! i got this idea in the shower and fried my brain by writing it in the span of a few hours :) SO PLSSS DONT MIND HOW STUPID IT IS.

-----

You stand in front of a tall, gray apartment building, boxes and suitcases piled around you. One of your friends had been kind enough to drive you and your stuff to this new place, and as their car drives away, you're left with a sense of excitement. This is your chance to finally find some stability after a long stretch of uncertainty.

There’s an excitement buzzing in your chest, but a trace of exhaustion lingers. For weeks, you’ve been crashing on friends' couches, juggling multiple jobs, and the demands of school alongside the perpetual search for somewhere—anywhere—to land.

Finally, though, things seemed to be turning around. Just days ago, you’d been clocked in for a slow shift at the convenience store, trying to squeeze in some schoolwork behind the counter.

With only a handful of customers trickling in over the hours, you found yourself browsing for rental listings once you had finished your assignments.

Luck seemed to be on your side that day. The first ad you saw was for an apartment close to the city, with a store nearby and plenty of bus stops in the area. It was perfect. The listing described a single room available in a decently sized apartment, affordable and ideally located. The ad was put up by someone named Sim Jaeyun, who had a picture of a cute dog as his profile picture but no other personal information.

You scrolled through the pictures of the apartment, noting its clean, functional layout. The description specified the need for a tenant who was clean, could cook for themselves, wasn't excessively loud, and could pay rent on time. You nodded, realizing you met all those criteria, and sent in your request without hesitation.

As you close your laptop that day, a customer walks in, and you go back to your duties, hoping that this will be the break you've been waiting for. The prospect of finally unpacking your suitcase for good after moving out from your parents' house was a comforting thought that kept you going.

Now, standing at the building’s entrance, you can’t help but feel a small, hopeful thrill. You walk towards the door and pull your focus to the side panel by the intercom and scan for the familiar name: Jaeyun. But your eyes catch something else—Jake and Heeseung. You tilt your head, curious. Jake was the name you’d come to know him by in your recent conversations, the person who’d warmly accepted your request and walked you through what to expect. You hadn’t known there was another roommate. With a shrug, you figure it’s something you’ll ask him about once you’re inside. Pressing the buzzer, you wait.

A few seconds later, a soft buzz sounds, and the door clicks open. You place a wooden doorstop to prop it open and start bringing in your belongings, piling up suitcases and boxes just inside the entrance. The elevator dings, drawing your attention as the doors slide open, revealing a man stepping out. His dark hair falls casually around his glasses, framing a face both handsome and warm. His clothes are neat but relaxed, hanging comfortably on his frame, and his easy smile grows wider when he spots you.

“Hey! You must be the new tenant,” he greets, extending a hand as he reaches you. “I’m Jake.”

You introduce yourself with a grunt, and he nods, giving a friendly chuckle before he glances down at the boxes and bags. “Let me help you with that.” With his help, it doesn’t take long for you to gather your belongings into the elevator.

Once all your things are inside, Jake presses the button for the third floor, and the elevator doors glide shut with a soft hum. He turns to you, slipping easily into what sounds like a well-rehearsed rundown of apartment essentials.

“So, first thing,” he says, glancing over at you with a friendly smile, “I’ll get you a key for the front door. And the apartment itself has a digital lock, so I’ll give you the code as well. We usually change it every few months, just to be safe.”

You nod, taking it all in as he continues.

“The laundry room is in the basement. It’s shared with a few other units, but it’s usually pretty quiet. Most people don’t do laundry until the weekends, so if you want some quiet time down there, mid-week is best.” He gives a quick chuckle. “Also, there's a schedule sheet down there if you want to block off a time.”

As the elevator rises, he ticks off other small details—the garbage room is down the hall, recycling day is every Tuesday, and there’s a spot by the door for your shoes, since he prefers to keep the place tidy. It’s all practical, straightforward, and reassuring.

As he speaks, you think back to the other name on the door panel and decide to ask. “So… Heeseung?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s a good friend,” Jake replies, giving a small nod. “He’s crashing with me. His schedule is intense, so you won’t see much of him unless there’s something big planned. But he’s a good guy—you’ll like him.”

You nod in understanding, unable to keep the fleeting thought that if Jake looks this good, Heeseung might be just as handsome.

The elevator dings, signaling that you’ve arrived. Jake reaches down, effortlessly lifting a heavy box as he steps into the hallway. He walks to door 3F, punches in the code, and holds the door open as you step into your new apartment.

The first thing that strikes you is the openness of the space. Sunlight filters in through large windows, illuminating the clean, modern living room. A spacious couch faces an oversized TV, framed by soft, neutral-colored walls and minimal decor that gives it a cozy feel. Further in, to the right, lies an open kitchen and dining area. There’s a polished dining table set against the wall, and you can picture yourself here, finally settled and able to take in a meal in peace. A small staircase with four steps sits to the right, leading up to what you assume are the bedrooms.

Jake steps up beside you, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “I, uh, did a bit of cleaning before you came. Wanted to make sure you had a good first impression.”

You chuckle softly and assure him it’s perfect as he leads you up the stairs. At the top, he pushes open the door to a room and steps inside, placing the bag and box he’s holding down carefully. “Here we are. This is your room.”

You step inside, taking in the space that is, for now, just walls and an bed frame. But with your belongings, you can already imagine turning it into comfortable. Jake heads back downstairs to grab more of your things, leaving you to take in the moment.

Setting your suitcase and bag down, you take a deep breath, just as Jake returns, balancing a final pair of bags. He gives a small, easy smile as he sets them down by the bed frame.

“Oh, by the way,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I took the liberty of getting you a mattress. Figured it’d make the first few nights a bit more comfortable.”

Your face lights up in gratitude. “Thank you, Jake. That’s really thoughtful.”

He shrugs it off with a smile. “Glad it helps.” Gesturing around the small hall outside, he continues, “So, my room’s just across from yours, and the bathroom’s at the end of the hall, next to my room. Heeseung’s room is right beside yours, but he’s out right now, so no worries there.” He hands you a small, brass-colored key. “Here’s your copy of the front door key.”

You take it, the weight of it feeling like a tiny anchor, grounding you here. With a nod, he gives you a quick smile and quietly steps out, closing the door behind him.

As the silence settles, you glance around, noticing—thankfully—that the door has a lock, which brings a small comfort. You exhale, feeling a rare sense of privacy and security, and decide it’s time to start unpacking. Unzipping your first bag, you begin pulling out clothes and books, setting them on the bed.

With each item you unpack, the room slowly takes shape. Clothes find a place in the closet, your books line up on a narrow shelf, and you tack a few personal photos and mementos on the walls, bringing color and comfort to the once-bare space. A small, soft rug unfurls at the foot of the bed, and a cozy blanket drapes over the mattress. By the time you finish, hours have slipped by without you realizing it.

Just then, a loud growl from your stomach reminds you it’s well past dinnertime. You leave the room, closing the door behind you, and step out into the apartment. The lights are dim, shadows stretching through the now quiet space, and Jake is nowhere in sight. Shrugging, you make your way to the kitchen.

You open the fridge and peer inside, noticing containers labeled with Jake and Heeseung’s names—and a few others you don’t recognize. One container in particular catches your eye, with a handwritten label that reads Ni-ki. Just as you’re about to open it, wondering who this Ni-ki is, a soft chime sounds from the front door, signaling someone’s arrival.

Turning, you see a tall man standing in the entryway, framed by the dim glow of the hallway. He’s effortlessly cool, dressed in baggy pants and a leather jacket, a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. His dark hair is swept back, and his gaze sharpens as he looks at you.

“Who are you?” he asks, his voice low and slightly gruff.

You introduce yourself, explaining you’re Jake’s new roommate, and he nods in understanding.

“So, you’re the girl Jake was talking about,” he says, almost to himself. “I’m Heeseung.” He then glances at the container still in your hand and raises an eyebrow. “You might want to avoid eating Ni-ki’s leftovers,” he advises with a small smirk. “He can be… protective of his food.”

You tilt your head. “Who’s Ni-ki?”

“A friend,” Heeseung replies simply, slipping out of his jacket and hanging it by the door. As you place the container back in the fridge, he suddenly reappears in front of you, holding out a takeout bag.

“Here,” he says, passing it to you.

You take it, peeking inside to find a neatly packed dinner. You look up, surprised. “Thank you, Heeseung.”

His expression softens, a faint smile curving his lips. “You’re welcome.”

A voice from behind interrupts. “Can you close the fridge?”

You and Heeseung turn to see Jake standing at the kitchen entrance, dressed in pajamas, rubbing his eyes with a sleepy smile. You quickly apologize and shut the fridge door, but Jake waves it off as he turns his attention to Heeseung.

“Hey, man,” Jake says, stepping over to Heeseung. Then, with a gleam in his eye, he looks back at you, resting his hand on your shoulder and playfully bouncing on his feet. “Isn’t she great? The new roommate?”

Heeseung chuckles, looking down at you with a gaze that feels unexpectedly warm. “She’s even better than you said,” he says, his voice dropping to a soft, teasing tone. “Got a good taste in roommates, huh?”

Jake nods, grinning. “Right? A good pick for sure.” He tosses you a lighthearted wink, adding, “We’re lucky to have you here.”

The playful compliments catch you off guard, and you can feel your cheeks heating up. Silently grateful for the dim light that hides your blush, you stammer out a thank you, bidding them both goodnight before slipping back to your room.

Once inside, you lock the door and settle onto the bed, setting up the takeout and opening your laptop. The food is still warm, and you relax against the pillows, pulling up an episode of the series you’ve been watching.

-----

The next morning, your alarm jolts you awake, piercing through the calm of your dreams. You groan and fumble to turn it off, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you sit up.

After changing into a fresh set of clothes, you grab your toiletries and shuffle out into the hallway, relieved to find it empty. You lock the bathroom door behind you, a small sigh of relief escaping your lips.

Inside, the bathroom is decently sized, its neutral colors soothing. A simple shower sits in the far corner, while a toilet is tucked beside it. Two sinks stand side by side, both topped with a huge mirror that reflects the morning light. You notice one sink is filled with various male grooming products—shaving cream, two toothbrushs, and a few other items—while the other sink remains empty. A smile tugs at your lips as you remember Jake mentioning that the empty sink was yours.

You get to work, brushing your teeth and washing your face, the cool water refreshing against your skin. The cabinets hold a few decorations and essentials, but you keep it simple as you focus on getting ready for the day. Once you finish, you take a last glance at your reflection, before exiting the bathroom. You head back to your room to grab your bag. After making sure the door is locked behind you, you head down the stairs and out of the apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible. You hope you didn’t wake Jake and Heeseung; they both have classes later in the day, and you’d hate to disturb their sleep.

Once outside, you take a deep breath, the crisp morning air filling your lungs as you walk toward the bus stop. You decide to skip breakfast this morning, opting to grab lunch on campus and planning to pick up groceries in the afternoon instead.

The elevator ride down feels swift, and as you step outside, you see the bus pulling up just in time. You board, find a seat, and settle in, clutching your bag on your lap as you pull out your phone. With a few taps, you put on your favorite playlist, letting the music drown out the morning chatter around you.

As the bus rolls along, you gaze out the window, watching the world blur by. Trees, shops, and people merge into a soft painting of morning life, and a small smile spreads across your face.

----

After a long day of classes, you make your way back to the bus stop, the familiar rhythm of your routine guiding you. Once on the bus, you relax, your mind still buzzing from the lectures and discussions. The bus stops at the mall, and you hop off, ready to clock into your shift at the clothing store.

The hours fly by as you assist customers, folding clothes, and restocking shelves. Each sale and every smile from satisfied shoppers makes the time pass a little quicker. When your shift finally ends, you clock out, ready to head to your next job.

Another bus ride takes you to the convenience store, where you cover for one of your colleagues who is running late. Luckily, your shift is only a few hours. You greet familiar faces as you work the register, and soon enough, your colleague arrives, a bit flustered but apologetic. You clock out, the end of your shift bringing a welcome sigh of relief.

With a little time to spare, you decide to shop for groceries. The store is busy, but you quickly gather the essentials you need for the week. With bags in hand, you hop on the bus again, this time heading to a nearby takeout place where you’ve already called in an order. The thought of cooking feels too exhausting after a long day, so you indulge in the convenience.

Once you pick up your food, you decide to walk home since it’s not too far. As you approach the apartment, you pull out your keychain, finding the key that now feels familiar. Unlocking the door, you step inside, your feet heavy with fatigue. The elevator ride up feels like a small victory, and as you reach the third floor, you shuffle down the hallway to your door.

You punch in the code, the door clicking open as you step inside. Kicking off your shoes and hanging your jacket, you’re immediately greeted by the cheerful presence of Jake and Heeseung. They’re in the living room, and their warm smiles lift your spirits.

“How was your day?” Jake asks, leaning forward with genuine interest.

“Exhausting,” you reply, dragging your bag into the dining area and setting down the takeout food on the table.

Jake’s eyes light up, and he hurries over, his curiosity piqued as he peeks at the food. Meanwhile, Heeseung moves to help you with the groceries, offering to take the bags to the kitchen.

As you unpack, you can’t help but smile at Jake, who is now sneakily grabbing some fries from the takeout container. You shake your head playfully, and he grins, unrepentant in his munching.

The three of you settle around the table, sharing the fries and nuggets, laughter filling the space as you recount the amusing moments from your day. But soon, Heeseung checks the time and realizes he has to get to work.

“Alright, I gotta run,” he says, grabbing his jacket and helmet. “See you guys later!” You and Jake wave goodbye as the front door closes behind him, leaving you and Jake alone in the apartment.

The atmosphere shifts to a cozy calm as you both move to the couch, where Jake grabs a blanket and hands it to you. You settle in, finding the couch surprisingly comfortable.

“Alright, what are we in the mood for?” Jake asks, glancing over at you.

“Something light, maybe a comedy?” you suggest, settling into the cushions.

He nods, his finger hovering over a title. “I’m down for that. Do you have a favorite comedy?”

You think for a moment, a smile creeping onto your face as you recall one of your all-time favorites. “I love Superbad! It’s just so ridiculous but really relatable. What about you?”

Jake grins, leaning back. “Classic choice! I’d have to say The Hangover. That movie just cracks me up every time. The whole concept is just so over-the-top.”

You laugh, remembering the wild escapades of the characters. “It really is! And the way everything just spirals out of control—it's like a train wreck you can’t look away from.”

He clicks on a rom-com, and you settle in to watch. As the opening credits roll, you continue chatting. “So, what got you into movies?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Jake shrugs, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “I guess I grew up watching them with my family. It was always a thing for us to have movie nights on weekends. How about you?”

“Same! My parents were big on movies too, so I was basically raised on classic films. We’d have popcorn and everything. I think that’s where I got my love for them.”

You share stories of your favorite movie nights, each anecdote flowing effortlessly between you. You talk about the films that have made you cry, the ones that made you laugh until your sides hurt, and the thrillers that kept you on the edge of your seat.

“I’m a sucker for horror movies,” Jake admits, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “The adrenaline rush is just so addictive. Have you seen The Conjuring?”

You nod vigorously, recalling how it had you hiding behind your hands the entire time. “That one is terrifying! I had to sleep with the lights on for a week after.”

Jake laughs, and it feels easy and comfortable, the way friends can be. “Same! I love the ones that mess with your mind. You think it’s just a simple scare, but then it leaves you questioning everything later.”

The warmth of the couch and the soft hum of the movie make it hard to keep your eyes open. You fight against the pull of sleep, telling yourself you should stay awake, but it’s a losing battle. Your eyelids grow heavier, and soon enough, they flutter shut, surrendering to the comfort enveloping you.

Time slips away, and you drift in and out of consciousness. The sounds of the film fade into a gentle lull, a backdrop to your dreams.

You only briefly wake when you feel yourself being lifted. Your eyes flutter open, and you blink a few times, trying to make sense of your surroundings. When your gaze meets Jake’s, looking down at you with a sleepy smile, warmth spreads through your chest.

“Go back to sleep,” he mumbles, his voice low and soothing. You can’t find it in you to argue, and you let the comforting haze of sleep pull you under once more.

Jake carries you effortlessly, maneuvering through the apartment, and you feel the gentle sway of his movements. You catch brief glimpses of your surroundings as he struggles momentarily with the lock on your bedroom door, the soft click echoing in the stillness.

He finally succeeds, and with a gentle motion, he lays you down in your bed. The softness of your plushies welcomes you, and you instinctively snuggle closer to them. You hear Jake’s soft chuckle, and it makes you smile even in your half-asleep state.

Just before you fully drift off again, you feel a soft brush against your face as Jake tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

He smiles down at you, a quiet moment shared between you. Then, with a gentle touch, he walks out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

A few moments pass before he returns, this time holding a makeup wipe. You stir slightly, feeling his presence as he approaches the bed. Carefully, he leans down, and you can barely register what he’s doing as he begins to remove your makeup from the day. His movements are soft and precise, and you can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at his tenderness.

“There,” he whispers when he’s done, a smile on his lips as he looks at you. “Pretty...” The word lingers in the air, and even in your half-asleep state, it makes your heart flutter. He tosses the used wipe into the small bin underneath your desk and quietly closes your door.

The sound of the movie plays softly in the background as Jake settles back into the living room, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his features. He waits for Heeseung to return, glancing occasionally toward the hallway, a small smile on his face as he thinks of you tucked away in your room.

----

The next morning, you wake up slowly, the soft sunlight filtering through your window, casting warm rays across your face. It feels like a rare luxury to have a late shift, and you stretch lazily under the covers before finally rolling out of bed. You take your time with your morning routine, enjoying the rare moment of leisure before a long shift ahead.

Once you’re dressed and refreshed, you make your way to the kitchen, the familiar scents of home enveloping you. You decide to whip up some breakfast, you switch on the TV, letting the sounds of a morning show accompany your meal prep.

After breakfast, you head back to your room to tackle some schoolwork at your desk. The quiet hum of the apartment is comforting as you focus on your notes.

It’s not long before you hear the soft sound of Heeseung’s bedroom door creaking open, followed by some shuffling footsteps. Curious, you glance toward your door, wondering if he’s finally awake. Moments later, a knock at your door pulls you from your concentration.

“Come in!” you call out, looking up to see Heeseung standing there, looking adorably disheveled. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, a baggy t-shirt swamping him, and messy hair sticks out in all directions, giving him a relaxed look. His fluffy socks peek out from beneath his pants as he shuffles inside.

“Can you make breakfast for me?” he asks, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Can’t you?” you reply teasingly.

“Too tired…” he mutters, a hint of a pout on his lips.

“Late night at the bar?” you inquire, stepping around him and heading to the kitchen, a grin spreading across your face as he follows you like a sleepy shadow.

“Yeah, I had to cover for my friend while he hooked up with some girl… and he took too long,” he explains, his tone flat as he leans against the kitchen island.

“Oh, that sounds terrible. When did you get home?” you ask, measuring out ingredients for waffles.

“Four a.m…” he mumbles, and you can’t help but chuckle softly, shaking your head at his apparent misfortune.

You hum as you mix the batter, the rhythmic motion soothing in its familiarity. Suddenly, you feel Heeseung draping himself over you from behind, his arms wrapping around your waist and his head resting against the crook of your neck.

“Heeseung?…” you mumble, surprised but not entirely against the sudden intimacy. All you receive in response are muffled grumbles, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

After a moment of stunned hesitation, you decide to carry on with your waffle-making, pouring the batter into the hot waffle iron while he clings to you like a sleepy koala. The gentle weight of him against you is unexpected, but oddly comforting. You focus on the task at hand, feeling the warmth radiating from both the iron and his body.

You try to push the knowledge of how close you both are to the back of your mind, reminding yourself that if Jake were to come in, he wouldn’t see you from this angle. The thought makes your cheeks warm, but you push it aside, trying to maintain your composure as you concentrate on breakfast.

As the waffle iron hisses and the sweet smell begins to fill the air, you steal a glance at Heeseung, who seems perfectly content with his head resting on you, his grip tightening slightly as if to anchor himself in place.

When the waffles finally finish cooking, the kitchen fills with the delicious scent of warm sweetness, and you can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Heeseung slowly releases his hold on you, finally letting you go as he moves to grab a plate. He fills it with a few waffles, drizzling syrup over them before taking a bite, a look of sheer bliss crossing his face.

“These are amazing,” he mumbles with a mouthful, and you can’t help but chuckle at his eagerness.

“Thanks! Just don’t forget who made them,” you tease, your heart warming at his genuine happiness.

He finishes chewing and leans over to wrap his arms around you once more, pulling you in for a brief hug. “Seriously, thank you. You’re a lifesaver,” he says before plopping down on the couch, clearly ready to enjoy his breakfast in comfort.

You linger in the kitchen for a moment, a smile still on your face, before opening the fridge and grabbing a vitamin drink. You pop it open and take a refreshing sip, as you walk out into the living room.

As you step into the space, you pause at the sight before you. Heeseung has sprawled across the couch, the half-eaten waffle left hanging from his mouth, his eyes shut and small snores escaping him. It’s an adorable sight, and you can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head in disbelief at how cute he looks.

You quickly grab your phone, snapping a picture of the moment before sending it off to Jake, knowing he would appreciate the humor of the situation once he sees it after class.

With a playful smirk, you approach Heeseung, carefully prying the half-eaten waffle from his mouth. As you do, you notice his shirt has ridden up slightly, exposing a sliver of skin. You gently pull it down, wanting to make him more comfortable. Then, you grab a nearby blanket and drape it over him, ensuring he stays warm.

Ruffling his messy hair affectionately, you step back to admire your handiwork, a fond smile gracing your lips. With Heeseung settled and blissfully unaware, you retreat back to your room, determined to continue your studying.

A little while later, as you immerse yourself in your notes, your phone buzzes with a notification. You glance at the screen, seeing Jake's name light up, and you can’t help but smile at the excited message he sent:

“OMG, that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen! Heeseung is literally draping himself over the couch like a cute baby sloth!”

You laugh, unable to help yourself as you imagine Jake’s exaggerated reactions. You quickly type back a response, “Right? He’s impossible! Just don’t tell him I took that photo.”

As the afternoon rolls around, you glance at the clock, realizing it’s time to get ready for work. You quietly shuffle around the apartment, careful not to wake Heeseung, who remains soundly asleep on the couch, still draped in the cozy blanket you had covered him with. You smile at the sight, finding it hard to resist the urge to snap another picture, but you decide to let him rest instead.

After changing into your work uniform, you grab your bag and head out, giving one last look at the peaceful scene before closing the door behind you. The chill of the air greets you as you make your way to the bus stop, excitement bubbling in your chest for the shift ahead.

Once you arrive at the sweet shop, you clock in and prepare for the bustling evening. Just as the bell above the door jingles, a wave of children floods in, their faces lighting up at the sight of colorful candies and pastries. You jump into action, serving up scoops of ice cream and filling bags with sugary treats, the cheerful chaos making the time fly by.

After what feels like hours, the rush of kids finally calms down, and you lean against the counter, wiping your brow with a sigh of relief. You chat with two of your colleagues, sharing stories and laughing about the antics of the day.

“Did you see the way that kid tried to sneak in an extra gummy bear?” one of them chuckles, mimicking the child’s guilty expression. You join in the laughter, easing the fatigue from your day.

Eventually, your shift comes to an end, and you clock out, tired but satisfied. As you take the bus home, you pull out your phone, ready to check messages. To your delight, you see a new notification from Jake. He’s sent you a picture, a selfie of him looking triumphant, with Heeseung still sprawled across the couch behind him, the blanket now haphazardly draped over his body.

You can’t help but laugh at the scene, Jake’s grin wide as he gives a thumbs-up, and you quickly save the picture to your phone.

“You’re not letting him sleep the whole day away, are you?” you text back, adding a laughing emoji to convey your playful tone.

Almost immediately, Jake replies, “Nah, I just let him be while I made some dinner. He’s gonna regret sleeping through the day!”

You smile at his enthusiasm, enjoying the banter as you make your way back to the apartment.

----

The days zoom by in a blur of laughter and warmth, transforming what started as an uncertain arrangement into a comfortable home.

Your first few weeks are filled with shared meals and movie nights, late-night chats about everything from favorite foods to secrets. Heeseung’s easy-going charm and Jake’s playful energy bring out the best in you, and you find yourself laughing more than you ever thought possible.

When you finally meet their friends—Ni-ki, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Jay—you feel a mixture of nerves and excitement. Ni-ki, in particular, is quick-witted and charming, but you shoot Heeseung a warning glare, determined to keep your near mishap with the leftovers under wraps. To your relief, he complies, stifling laughter as you all share stories and get to know one another.

It’s surprising how easily you fit into this lively group, your personality blending seamlessly with theirs. Sunghoon and Sunoo’s humor keeps the atmosphere light, while Jungwon’s gentle nature balances it out perfectly. You also introduce them to your friends Wonyoung, Yunjin, Kyrell, and Yeonjung, and the two groups meld effortlessly, laughter and teasing filling the air whenever you all hang out together.

Despite your busy schedules—your classes, Jake’s shifts at the pet store and smoothie shop, and Heeseung’s late nights at the bar and his job at the sports store—there’s always time for fun. You all make a point to coordinate your schedules, planning outings that range from shopping sprees to casual movie marathons at home.

Amidst the joyful chaos, there comes a time when you begin to question your place between Jake and Heeseung. It’s subtle at first, just fleeting moments that flit past your consciousness like shadows. They both treat you with a warmth that feels more intimate than just roommates or friends.

Jake’s flirtation is often lighthearted and playful, a gentle tease that leaves you smiling longer than you should. He’ll come up behind you, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he watches whatever show you’re binging, the warmth of his body brushing against yours making your heart race. “What do you think about this one?” he’ll ask, his voice light, but there’s an underlying sincerity in his gaze that leaves you pondering what’s really behind his casual demeanor.

Heeseung, on the other hand, has a more physical way of expressing his affection. He’ll sneak up behind you while you’re washing dishes, his arms wrapping around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as he hums a tune. “What’s for dinner?” he’ll ask, his breath tickling your ear. The way he lingers there—so close, so familiar—sends a shiver down your spine. It feels like more than just a friendly embrace, a tenderness that wraps around you like a warm blanket.

It’s in these moments that you find yourself questioning the boundaries of your relationship. Are they just being friendly, or is there something deeper at play? You try to dismiss the thought, laughing off their behavior as just typical friend antics.

Then there are the times when Jake becomes almost puppy-like, trailing after you, eager to join in whatever you’re doing. “Can I help?” he’ll ask, hovering by your side while you prepare dinner, his eyes sparkling with excitement. There’s a softness in his gaze that makes you feel special, cherished in a way you hadn’t expected when you first moved in. And when you catch him stealing glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking, your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat.

You wonder if they’re both feeling the same way, caught up in a strange blend of friendship and something more. The ambiguity weighs on you, and late at night, when you lie awake in your bed, you can’t help but replay their actions in your mind. Are you just imagining things? Do they see you as more than a roommate?

The days blend into a delightful routine, filled with laughter and playful banter. But beneath the surface, Jake and Heeseung have started to engage in a little game of their own, one that you’re blissfully unaware of. You can’t quite pinpoint when it began, but it becomes clear that they’ve both developed an interest in you that goes beyond friendship.

During one lazy afternoon, the three of you gather in the living room, the sun streaming through the large windows. You’re sprawled on the couch, engrossed in a book, when Jake plops down beside you. He leans over, peering at your pages with a mischievous grin. “You know, I could help you study,” he teases, his voice dropping to a lower, suggestive tone. “I’m a great tutor, especially with… hands-on experience.” You look up, caught off guard by his words, your cheeks flushing as you playfully shove him away.

Heeseung, who’s been lounging in the armchair across from you, raises an eyebrow. “What are you studying? Maybe I could lend a hand, too. I promise I won’t distract you—much.” He flashes you a charming smile that sends your heart racing, and you can’t help but laugh nervously, your mind racing as you try to focus on your book instead.

Later that week, you’re preparing dinner, humming to yourself as you chop vegetables. Suddenly, you feel a warm presence behind you. Jake sneaks up and leans against the counter, his arms crossed, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Need a sous chef?” he asks, leaning closer, his voice low and teasing. “I can stir the pot and keep you company at the same time.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes, but the warmth of his body so close to yours sends a jolt through you.

“Yeah, because that’s what I need right now,” you respond, your tone light but your heart betraying you as it races.

Heeseung strolls in just then, a knowing smile on his face as he catches the two of you. “Am i interrupting something?” he chides playfully, arching an eyebrow at Jake. You feel your cheeks heat up as the playful banter continues, and you can’t help but feel like the center of attention, albeit in a way that leaves you both flustered and exhilarated.

What you don’t realize is that behind the scenes, a little competition has begun. Jake and Heeseung have started making bets on who can get your attention first, whispering and laughing about it when they think you can’t hear. “I’ll bet you a smoothie I can make her blush before dinner,” Jake declares one day, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Heeseung chuckles, countering with, “You’re on. But I’ll raise you—I’ll bet you can’t make her laugh while doing it.”

These little moments of rivalry only heighten the flirtation. One afternoon, you’re lounging in the living room when Heeseung walks in wearing a fitted shirt that highlights his toned physique. He notices you staring and grins, leaning casually against the wall. “What? You like what you see?” he asks, his voice dripping with playful confidence. You can��t help but feel your cheeks burn as you stammer a response, the heat creeping up your neck as you try to find words.

“Shut up, Heeseung,” you manage, your laughter mingling with embarrassment, but he only chuckles, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Then there are times when Jake gets a bit bolder. One evening, he finds you in your room, studying. He leans against the doorway, arms crossed, looking utterly relaxed yet undeniably handsome. “You know, if you need a study break, I’m really good at helping people… unwind,” he says, a teasing glint in his eye. You can feel your heart race, and your response gets caught in your throat, leaving you momentarily speechless.

As weeks turn into months, these playful exchanges become more frequent and more suggestive, leaving you in a constant state of fluster. They often playfully compete for your attention, showering you with flirty comments and lingering touches that send your heart racing.

It’s not just the comments that leave you flustered; it’s the way they both find excuses to be close to you. Jake will brush against you as he reaches for a snack, his fingers grazing yours in a way that feels charged with something more. Heeseung will lean in while you’re cooking, his breath warm against your neck as he whispers a playful remark, leaving you shivering with both surprise and delight.

One afternoon, after weeks of playful banter and flirtation from Jake and Heeseung, you decide it’s time to turn the tables. You’ve been thinking about how much fun it could be to throw a little flirting back their way, to see if they can handle a taste of their own medicine.

You wait until a Saturday when everyone is home. The living room is buzzing with energy as you all relax together, the sound of a movie playing softly in the background. Jake is sprawled across the couch, while Heeseung sits in the armchair, legs casually crossed and an easy smile on his face as he scrolls through his phone.

Feeling a rush of confidence, you take a deep breath and lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms and adopting a playful smirk. “You know,” you begin, drawing their attention, “I could really use some help getting my grades up. Maybe I should schedule some one-on-one study sessions with the both of you.”

Jake looks up, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise, and Heeseung’s mouth curves into an amused smile. “Oh? Are you sure you can handle all this help?” Jake quips, his tone teasing, but you can see the flush creeping up his cheeks.

“Just think of it as an opportunity to show me your expertise,” you reply, maintaining eye contact with both of them as you saunter closer. You can feel the charged atmosphere as you lean casually against the arm of the couch, inching closer to Jake. “I could use some practical lessons.”

Heeseung sits up a little straighter, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Practical lessons? Sounds like someone is trying to get a little more than just academic help,” he retorts, the hint of a challenge in his voice. You can tell he’s intrigued by your sudden boldness.

“Oh, I definitely am,” you say with a playful wink, enjoying the way both of them are momentarily taken aback. “But only if you can keep up with me.” You’re met with stunned silence, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve gone too far. But then, Jake bursts out laughing, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“You’re on!” he declares, shooting you a cocky grin that ignites a flutter in your stomach. “But just so you know, I’m not going to go easy on you.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes in mock defeat, trying to maintain his cool demeanor. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you can’t keep up.” His voice is low and teasing, the challenge hanging in the air between you.

As the afternoon unfolds, you continue to flirt playfully with both of them, tossing comments back and forth. You compliment Jake on his “impressive knowledge” of pop culture, leaning in just a bit too close as you whisper about how his recommendations have been “so helpful.” You watch as his cheeks flush, caught off guard by your boldness.

Heeseung, not to be outdone, makes his own moves. “You know,” he says, his voice smooth, “if you want to study hard, you might need to take some breaks. I could think of some fun activities to fill those breaks.” He winks, and you can’t help but laugh at how easy it is to keep the teasing going.

The three of you end up in a lighthearted competition, each trying to out-flirt the other. You toss compliments like confetti, and they respond in kind, each line making the tension between you thick and exhilarating.

“Wow, I didn’t realize you two were so charming,” you remark, feigning innocence as you watch them squirm a little under your gaze. “Maybe I should have taken you up on that help sooner.”

Jake grins, leaning back against the couch with a newfound confidence. “Well, now you know. We can definitely provide the special assistance you need.”

You feel a rush of satisfaction at finally flipping the script. The laughter fills the room, punctuated by playful banter, and it feels good to see them flustered for a change, struggling to come up with responses to your flirty remarks.

Eventually, as the evening winds down, you sit back and bask in the warmth of their attention.

You’ve made your mark, and it’s clear that your flirty game has raised the stakes between you and your two charming roommates, setting the stage for whatever might come next.

----

The late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of your room, casting a warm glow as you returned home from work. Your phone buzzed with a notification, and you quickly glanced at the group chat. The excitement in the messages about a night out at a local club had your heart racing with anticipation. Without a second thought, you agreed to join, feeling a surge of energy at the prospect of a night filled with laughter and music.

You rushed to your closet, rifling through your clothes until you found the perfect outfit: a fitted black top that hugged your curves and a high-waisted skirt that accentuated your figure. You quickly changed and turned your attention to your makeup, after curling your hair into loose waves, you added a touch of glittering highlighter to your skin for that extra glow.

Grabbing a small, chic purse to carry your essentials, you made your way downstairs. As you descended, you spotted Heeseung standing in the living room, his back to you as he exchanged goodbyes with Jake, who lounged on the couch. Both of them turned as you approached, their expressions shifting from casual conversation to admiration.

Jake’s mouth fell slightly open, clearly impressed. “Where are you off to?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and admiration.

“The club,” you replied, a smile forming on your lips as you noticed the way Heeseung’s gaze lingered on you.

Before you could say anything else, Heeseung quickly chimed in, “I can drive you.” He moved toward the closet, retrieving another helmet with a casual ease that made your heart flutter. The prospect of riding on his motorcycle sent a thrill through you.

You nodded, excitement bubbling in your chest as you took the helmet from him. After throwing on a short jacket to ward off the evening chill, you turned to Jake. “See you later!” you called out, waving goodbye. He still looked slightly dazed, clearly caught off guard by your transformation.

You followed Heeseung down to the parking lot, the anticipation of the ride sparking in the air around you. As he climbed onto his motorcycle, you felt a rush of adrenaline. You slipped on the helmet, securing it snugly before getting on behind him. As you wrapped your arms around his waist, the warmth of his body seeped through your jacket, and he started the bike, the engine rumbling beneath you.

With a twist of the throttle, you felt the bike lurch forward, and you leaned into Heeseung’s back as he expertly maneuvered through the streets. The cool wind whipped past, sending a shiver through your exposed skin, but you didn’t mind; the thrill of the ride was invigorating.

The ride to the club was quick, the familiar streets flying by as you soaked in the freedom of the moment.

As you both arrived at the club, the vibrant energy of the nightlife buzzed around you, the pulsing music spilling out into the cool evening air. You hopped off the motorcycle, feeling exhilarated, and removed your helmet, shaking your hair loose and letting it cascade down. Just then, a group of drunken guys standing outside caught sight of you, their eyes lighting up in appreciation.

“Hey there, beautiful!” one of them hollered, followed by a chorus of wolf whistles. “Looking good! I’d love to have you hugging me from behind like that!” Their comments were laced with crude humor, and you felt a grimace form on your lips as you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

Before you could respond, Heeseung had already dismounted his bike, removing his helmet and stepping forward with a glare aimed at the group. “Back off!” he shouted, his tone sharp and commanding, making it clear he wouldn’t tolerate their disrespect. The guys exchanged wary glances but quickly retreated, their bravado faltering under Heeseung’s fierce expression.

You let out a small sigh of relief, thankful for his protective instinct, and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the entrance of the club. “Come on, you gotta clock in,” you urged, eager to escape the unwanted attention. As you reached the door, you noticed your friends waiting just outside, their faces lighting up at the sight of you.

With a friendly wave, you called out to them before turning back to Heeseung. The bouncer, recognizing him, waved you both through without hesitation, allowing you and your friends to enter the lively club atmosphere.

As you stepped inside, the beat of the music enveloped you, and the dazzling lights danced around the room, pulling you into the vibrant nightlife. Heeseung squeezed your hand gently before letting go, heading toward the bar to start his shift.

----

The night had unraveled into a blur of laughter, music, and drinks, with you and your friends dancing under the flashing lights, letting loose in a way you hadn’t in a while. You’d managed to get a couple of cheap—or even free—drinks thanks to Heeseung working behind the bar. Every time you looked over, he would give you a quick wink or a grin, sending another round your way.

And you weren’t short on attention either, noticing that a few guys in the club were more than happy to flirt. Their compliments and eager smiles were flattering, and you enjoyed the easygoing fun of it all. Still, as your friends leaned in to shout in your ear over the music, you noticed something: Heeseung’s gaze wasn’t just casually lingering. He was watching, his eyes sharp, his attention shifting from you to each new guy who tried his luck.

At one point, a guy offered to buy you a drink, and you agreed with a polite smile, following him over to the bar. As he ordered, Heeseung’s expression changed, his smile a touch too tight.

He set both drinks on the bar with an innocent smile, and you took a sip of yours, which tasted surprisingly perfect. But the guy next to you sputtered, coughing immediately as he spat his drink out, splattering a bit on your sleeve. He turned, red-faced, looking horrified.

“Why is this so… spicy?” he demanded, voice hoarse. Heeseung kept his face impassive, busying himself with a rag and the counter.

You couldn’t hold back a giggle as you watched Heeseung discreetly nudge the hot sauce bottle further under the counter, his lips twitching into a smile as the guy stomped off, grumbling. Not a minute later, you headed for the restroom, shaking your head in amusement at Heeseung’s antics.

In the quiet of the restroom, you took a moment to breathe, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. You slipped off your jacket, draping it over a nearby hook, revealing the full outfit you'd carefully chosen for tonight. The cool air in the room brushed against your exposed skin, a reminder of how much thought you'd put into tonight's look.

You ran a hand over your clothes, smoothing out any creases, then turned to check your makeup. With a practiced hand, you reapplied a touch of lip gloss and adjusted your eyeliner.

As you strolled back into the club, the pulsing lights and thumping bass surrounded you, momentarily drowning out your thoughts. You barely glanced at the guy from earlier, who was now fully engrossed in conversation with another girl, when your gaze was irresistibly drawn to the bar.

There stood Heeseung and Jake, leaning casually against the polished counter. Jake wore a pair of fitted jeans that hugged his form just right and a simple shirt that accentuated his toned physique. His hair was pushed back effortlessly. Heeseung was a perfect match, dressed in jeans as well, but opted for a sleek black t-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders. His hair was also slicked back now.

The moment they turned their attention to you, their eyes locked onto you with an intensity that left you momentarily breathless. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of surprise and excitement at seeing them both here, looking so undeniably handsome.

Heeseung’s gaze was unblinking, a flicker of something bold and daring mixed in with his usual confident smirk. His posture was casual, one hand braced against the bar while the other rested on his hip, but his eyes… they seemed to trace over you with a slow, almost deliberate sweep, lingering a second too long. The defiance in his smirk spoke volumes, as if daring anyone else to look at you the way he was. There was a possessive glint in his eyes, as if he was barely holding himself back from reaching out.

Then there was Jake, whose gaze held a different kind of heat. His eyes softened as they traveled from your face down to your outfit, then back up. He took in every detail—your makeup, the way your clothes clung to your figure, the glint of confidence in your eyes. When he met your gaze again, his lips curled into a grin, the warmth of his smile undercut by the intensity in his eyes. It was as though he was studying every inch of you, and his lips curved, like he knew exactly how captivating he found you.

You caught a brief exchange of glances between the two of them, each sizing up the other’s reaction, before they turned their focus back to you, their eyes following every step you took. Their shared gaze left you feeling bare, like they were both trying to pull you closer without needing to say a word.

“Well, well, here comes trouble,” Jake teased, his voice low and smooth, though the smile he wore was anything but innocent. He raised his glass to you, his eyes reflecting that warmth that always made you feel seen—but there was something else tonight, a sharper edge to the way he looked at you, as if he was waiting to see how you’d respond to their attention.

Heeseung’s smirk only deepened, a spark of mischief flickering in his gaze as he straightened a little, his posture shifting subtly closer. He kept his eyes locked on yours, every part of him seemed to radiate a daring energy, as though daring you to close the distance between you.

With a steadying breath, you made your way to the bar, fully aware of Jake and Heeseung's gazes. As you reached them, Heeseung leaned forward, elbows propped on the bar, his smirk never faltering, while Jake wasted no time slipping an arm around your waist, pulling you close with that effortless charm he wore so well.

"Dressed to impress,” Heeseung drawled, his tone laced with amusement as he gave you another lingering look, head tilting as if to take in every inch. “Gonna be a distraction all night, aren’t you?”

Jake tightened his hold on your waist, bringing you even closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “He’s just jealous because you look this good, and he’s stuck working.” His voice was smooth, and his breath sent a warm shiver down your neck. “Right, Heeseung?”

Heeseung scoffed but didn’t pull back, the gleam in his eyes only intensifying. “I think I’ll manage,” he shot back, but his eyes never left you, tracing the subtle way you leaned into Jake’s embrace. “Besides, it looks like you’re already in good hands.”

Feeling bold, you turned to face Heeseung fully, resting one hand on the counter as you smiled, the challenge in your eyes clear. “Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?”

He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “Only if you’d do something about it,” he replied, his gaze unflinching, taunting. He reached over, his fingers brushing lightly over yours where they rested on the bar. “Think you could handle both of us?”

Before you could respond, Jake chuckled softly, his arm around you tightening, as he glanced over at Heeseung. “Oh, she can handle anything we throw at her,” he teased, his eyes locking on yours with a hint of something darker. “Right?”

You laughed softly, finding yourself delighting in their attention, the playful tension between them only adding to the thrill. Heeseung shook his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest, while Jake’s fingers absently traced along your waist, making it clear he wasn’t planning to let you go anytime soon.

You leaned closer to Jake, letting him feel the warmth of your smile against his cheek. “Oh, I can handle you two just fine,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, but you knew they both heard it. The shift in their expressions told you enough—they were both thoroughly captivated.

Heeseung exhaled a low laugh, eyes twinkling with intrigue, while Jake’s hand at your waist stilled, his grip firm, like he wasn’t about to let you out of his sight for the rest of the night.

Jake tilted his head just slightly, the corners of his mouth curving up in a half-smile. “Is that so?” he murmured, his voice low, almost daring. He let his gaze drift slowly over your face, down to your lips, and then back to your eyes.

Heeseung watched, clearly enjoying the exchange, a slow, amused grin spreading across his face. He leaned across the bar, his gaze locked on yours as he teased, “Guess we’ll have to test that out, then. Wouldn’t want you getting too comfortable.” His voice was smooth, the subtle challenge in his words matched by the spark in his eyes.

Feeling both their gazes, you couldn’t help the little smile that played on your lips. You leaned slightly closer to Jake, keeping eye contact with Heeseung as you replied, “Maybe it’s you two who won’t be able to keep up.”

Jake let out a breathy chuckle, but his eyes never left you, even as he responded, “We’ll see about that.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained but also intrigued, and he nodded in agreement, watching as Jake held you close. With an easy grin, he said, “I think you’ll keep us busy.” He reached out to hand you a drink, fingers brushing against yours in the brief exchange, his eyes lingering on you.

You took a sip, feeling their attention wrap around you like a warmth that made the crowded club fall away.

Just as Jake’s hand tightened on your waist, you felt a tug from behind—your friends, appearing at just the right moment, grinning as they coaxed you toward the dance floor.

“Come on!” they called, laughter in their voices. Before either Jake or Heeseung could react, you slipped from Jake’s hold with a wink. Both of them stared after you, looking mildly stunned—and maybe just a bit thrown off by how easily you’d gotten away. Jake tried to reach for you, a playful protest on his lips, but your friends swept you into their midst, pulling you into the rhythm of the music.

On the dance floor, you let yourself get lost in the energy, moving in time with the pulsing beat. You stole a glance back at the bar, where both Heeseung and Jake were watching intently, as if sizing up their next move. Heeseung raised his drink to you, that confident smirk still plastered on his face, while Jake looked torn between amusement and a slight, playful irritation at your escape.

Laughing, you lost yourself in the music, feeling their gazes follow your every move.

----

The night took an unexpected turn when one of your friends became a little too enthusiastic with the drinks. Before you knew it, she was outside, hunched over on the sidewalk, throwing up. You quickly moved to her side, pulling her hair back and rubbing her shoulder, doing your best to soothe her as she mumbled apologies.

Once she was done, the group decided it was best to get her home. You all piled into a car, the designated driver taking the wheel while the rest of you kept a close eye on your friend.

When you reached her place, you carefully helped her inside, guiding her up to her bedroom and laying her down, making sure she was comfortable. With her settled, someone found a stash of drinks in the kitchen, and before long, the vibe had lightened back up. One friend pulled out a karaoke machine, and soon everyone was singing loud, off-key renditions of your favorite songs, letting the night carry you all along.

As the hours ticked by, one by one, everyone found a cozy spot to curl up, and before you knew it, the house was filled with the soft sounds of snores and murmured dreams, a blur of a night settling into a peaceful sleep.

----

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and the usual regret that came with a night like this. Squinting against the morning light filtering in through the window, you groaned, reaching for your phone. Your notifications were littered with messages and missed calls from both Jake and Heeseung. You smiled a little, heart warming at their worry, even if it made you feel a bit guilty.

You dialed Jake’s number, and he answered almost immediately. “Where are you?” he asked, his voice filled with relief and lingering worry. “Are you okay?”

"Yeah, I’m okay," you mumbled, rubbing your forehead. “I’m at my friend’s place. She got a bit… too drunk, so we crashed here for the night.”

Jake exhaled, sounding both relieved and a little exasperated. “Alright, just hang tight. I’ll come get you.”

You thanked him, already feeling a bit better just knowing he’d be there soon. After the call, you stumbled to the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle and downing some Advil. You checked on your friends, giving soft goodbyes to those who were half-awake and murmuring farewells to the ones still knocked out.

Stepping outside, you saw Jake’s car pull up, and you hurried over to climb in. As you slipped into the backseat, you noticed both Jake and Heeseung in the front seats, eyes full of concern as they looked you over.

“Good?” Jake asked, glancing up and down to check on you. You nodded, managing a small smile as he pulled away from the curb.

When you finally got back home, Jake parked and turned to open your door, but Heeseung beat him to it, sweeping you up in his arms so you wouldn’t have to walk barefoot on the pavement. You laughed, feeling a bit like royalty as Jake carried your heels and purse alongside.

Once inside, they led you straight to the bathroom, letting you shower and wash away the remnants of the night. As you closed the door, you couldn’t help but feel grateful, a smile spreading across your face as you let the hot water soothe away the morning’s aches.

After finishing your shower, you called out for one of them to bring you some clothes. “Hey, could you grab me something to wear?”

A moment later, Heeseung’s voice came through the slightly cracked bathroom door. “I got you.” You heard a rustling, and then he slid a pile of clothes through the gap. You reached out, taking them gratefully.

“Thanks!” you replied, quickly pulling on the comfy oversized shirt and sweatpants. Once you had dried your hair with a towel, you opened the bathroom door to find both Jake and Heeseung sprawled out on the couch, looking cozy under a soft blanket.

You joined them, settling down in the middle, feeling the warmth radiating from both of them. They shifted slightly, making room for you as you grabbed some popcorn from the bowl resting on Jake's lap. The familiar comfort of their presence wrapped around you like a warm hug, and you let out a content sigh as you nestled deeper into the cushions.

The movie played on, but your eyelids grew heavier by the minute. The soft light from the screen flickered in the dim room, casting gentle shadows over their faces. You leaned your head against Heeseung's shoulder, feeling his warmth seep into you.

As the movie continued, you felt Jake's hand brush against yours, and his fingers intertwined with yours, a comforting gesture that lulled you further into relaxation.

Eventually, the movie ended, and you barely noticed Jake turning it off. Heeseung glanced down at you, noticing how peaceful you looked, and he exchanged a knowing look with Jake. They both smiled softly before leaning back against the couch, pulling you with them.

Before long, the three of you were all asleep, the quiet hum of the world outside fading into a blissful silence as you cuddled together.

----

The atmosphere in your room was relaxed and comfortable as the three of you lounged together, the glow of fairy lights casting a soft ambiance. You felt a sense of warmth and belonging, but there was an unspoken question hanging in the air—what was this dynamic you had built with Jake and Heeseung?

After a while, you turned to them, curiosity piquing your interest. “So, what do we call this? This… thing we have going on?”

They both exchanged glances, a playful light dancing in their eyes before they climbed into your bed. Heeseung settled on your right side, while Jake nestled to your left, and you found yourself sandwiched between them.

“We like you a lot,” Heeseung confessed, his voice low and sincere, “and we’d love to have you for ourselves. But we also don’t want to see you with any other guy.”

Jake nodded, chiming in, “Yeah, same here. We both want you.” He paused, his expression serious. “At the end of the day, we’d rather share you than lose you to someone else.”

Your heart raced as you processed their words. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling warmth spread through you at their admissions. “But wouldn’t one of you get jealous of the other?”

“No,” Heeseung said, his tone firm yet gentle. “We both love you, and that’s what matters. You belong to both of us.”

As you gazed at them, a flutter of excitement and apprehension filled your chest. “I— I’ve been unsure about this. It feels wrong to like two friends at the same time.”

Jake pouted, tapping his lips thoughtfully. “Doesn’t seem wrong if we like you at the same time,” he reasoned, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You found your gaze drawn to his lips, swallowing hard. The tension in the room shifted, and Heeseung noticed, a teasing smirk creeping onto his face. “Looks like someone’s interested,” he quipped, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“I am not—” you started to protest, but before you could finish, Jake leaned in, closing the gap between you. His lips pressed against yours, soft yet insistent, and you gasped in surprise before instinctively kissing him back.

The moment was electric, and as Jake deepened the kiss, Heeseung leaned closer, trailing kisses along your throat. The sensation sent shivers down your spine as he nipped playfully at your skin, and you couldn’t help but let out another gasp, caught between the two of them.

Jake pulled back from the kiss, his grin widening as his gaze landed on the marks Heeseung had left on your throat and the exposed skin of your shoulder. The contrast of their playful possessiveness sent a thrill coursing through you, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

“We have to show you that you’re ours,” he declared, his voice laced with a mix of mischief and determination.

Before you could fully process what that meant, both of them leaned in closer, their intentions clear. You gasped as Heeseung pressed his lips against your neck, his mouth warm and insistent as he began to leave his mark. Jake mirrored his actions on the other side, nipping and kissing a trail that made your head spin.

You whimpered at the sensation, the combined heat of their mouths igniting a fire deep within you. Your fingers tangled in their hair, gripping tightly as you succumbed to the intoxicating wave of pleasure and need. The soft sounds of your enjoyment filled the room, and you could hardly think straight as they lavished attention on your sensitive skin.

“Yours,” you breathed out, the word slipping from your lips as they continued their ministrations, creating a symphony of sweet tension and fervent desire. Each gentle tug and nibble sent shivers racing through you, and you could feel your heart pounding in rhythm with their touches.

“Just like this,” Heeseung murmured against your skin, his breath hot and teasing. “You’re ours.”

Jake's hands roamed down your arms, his fingers trailing along the exposed skin, amplifying the sensations coursing through you. The way they worked together, each touch calculated yet spontaneous, made you feel cherished and desired in a way you had never experienced before.

Heeseung's hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as he pressed his lips against yours. You instinctively grabbed his bicep, fingers digging into the firm muscles as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the moment. It felt right; the heat between you was undeniable, intoxicating. His kisses were fervent, each one making you crave more, driving you to the brink of madness.

Meanwhile, Jake positioned himself on the other side, his fingers weaving into your hair as he leaned in to claim your now vacant lips as well. The sensation of his mouth on yours was electrifying, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Your grip tightened around his neck, anchoring yourself as he kissed you with a mix of urgency and devotion.

In that tangled mess of limbs and kisses, they continued to explore every inch of your skin they could reach, marking you with their lips and leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

Heeseung's kisses danced along your collarbone, trailing lower to your shoulder, each gentle nibble igniting a new spark of desire. His hands roamed your sides, fingertips brushing just beneath the hem of your shirt, teasingly inching upward as if he were mapping out every curve of your body.

Jake, on the other hand, his hands glided down your back, holding you against him as if he never wanted to let go. He would pull you closer, the heat radiating off him intoxicating. With each kiss he pressed to your lips, he’d angle your head just right, deepening the kiss and making you melt.

As Heeseung’s mouth found its way back to yours, he captured your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue teasingly brushing against yours. It was playful yet fervent, drawing soft moans from you as you surrendered to the sensations. Your hands were restless, instinctively roaming to their arms, gripping tightly as you sought to anchor yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.

With every caress, they exchanged knowing glances, a silent agreement to share this moment entirely. Jake leaned down, kissing a path from your shoulder to your neck, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin while Heeseung took his turn, trailing kisses down your jawline. You gasped at the sensations, feeling completely lost in the ecstasy of it all.

“We’ll take care of you.” Heeseung murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your ear.

Jake’s hand slipped beneath your shirt, his fingertips brushing against your bare skin, sending shivers coursing through your body. “Yeah, we’re not letting you out of our sight,” he added, his tone both playful and serious.

Your mind raced with thoughts, a delightful confusion enveloping you as you relished in their attention. All you could focus on was the pleasure they were giving you, the way their bodies enveloped you.

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