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eilidh-eternal · 6 months

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You go to dinner

Merry Christmas if that’s your thing! @luminousbeings-crudematter My gift to you and all the rest of the SingleDad!Johnny lovers today is fluff and a lil’ something extra I was originally gonna wait to include, but it just felt right in this chapter. Happy Holidays and Enjoy 🥰🎄🎁

SingleDad!Johnny x f!reader | 18+ MDNI | Part 1 | Masterlist

Today is Friday and you’re having dinner with Johnny.

Johnny and Isobel, you remind yourself. Not a date. Even if the man next door seems hellbent on seeing you squirm in his presence, stunned into silence while fire creeps in licking tendrils up your spine and sucks the breath out of you.

It’s not a date. But you still pull that one pretty dress out of your closet anyway, the one you told yourself you’re saving for a special occasion. Still don a few simple pieces of jewelry and go to the extent of styling your hair, swipe mascara onto your lashes and put something other than lip balm on for once. A few strategic spritzes of perfume at the base of your throat and wrists and you decide that anything more is too much. Trying too hard.

Trying too hard to impress someone who’s got it all. Someone who once had it all. Beautiful wife, adorable daughter. Did they live somewhere with a white picket fence? Did Isobel spend her days as a toddler going to parks and tromping through rain puddles, mum and dad at her side? Did Johnny smile at her the way he smiles at Isobel–like she hung the stars in the sky just for him? Could he ever smile at you like that? Could he ever love you–love anyone–the way he loved her again?

It’s hard not to compare yourself to the woman who’s had it all. The woman who had him. Hard not to feel doubt slithering in amongst the hope, to be reminded of everything you aren't even when he gives you no reason to. No, those feelings, that reservation, lies somewhere between yourself and the photo of the woman on his living room wall. Is there room in his heart for another woman when she’s still there to remind him of what he had? You’ll never find out if you don’t find your shoes and coat and get going.

It snowed again last night, and the pavement is dusted in a fine layer of glittering ice that swirls and scatters in the wind, trailing in lazy eddies behind you like the tail of a comet as you make the short walk next door, stepping carefully up onto their front stoop. Light from inside makes the windows glow a warm hue, and the sound of a children's show filters through along with Isobels excited voice when she hears your knock at the door.

“I’ll get it!” Isobel is darting towards the door before Johnny can dissuade her or scoop her up into his arms and task her with keeping an eye on the oven while he gets the door. He hates how tall she’s getting. Wishes her mother was here to see her stretching up on her tip-toes to peer out the window. “She’s here, she’s here!” The front door swings open, nearly taking out a vase on the entry table with it, short little arms just long enough to reach the doorknob and throw it open haphazardly. “Hi miss neighbor!”

“Hello Isobel. May I come in?” Johnny nearly drops the serving dish in his hands when he hears your voice, has to remind himself to breathe when Isobel clears the way for you and he catches a glimpse of you from the kitchen. This is just dinner, he reminds himself. Dinner with the gorgeous fucking neighbor that bakes and dotes on Isobel like she’s your daughter.

And Christ that dress… He’s glad he wore more than jeans and a t-shirt, found a dress shirt shoved in the back of his closet that isn't part of his parade dress or uniform. Isobel insisted that they ‘dress up’ for dinner, and Johnny was happy to go along with it if it meant she would take a bath and let him help with detangling her hair after. But standing here now, seeing you… he’s doing everything in his power to keep his hammering pulse in check and keep all his blood from rushing south. What a fucking sight that would be.

“Hi, Johnny.” Yeah, that’s certainly not helping. You look fucking adorable looking up at him like that, hands clasped together in front of you, toying with a delicate ring, tentative smile pulling your features into a face he wants to burn into his memory, tattoo on the back of his eyelids so he never forgets it. Soft and sweet and fucking perfect. His hands twitch at his sides, body reacting to your presence with the need to touch, to have his hand pressed to your back, curled around your waist, wrapped around your shoulder. He shoves them in his pockets instead and braces his shoulder against the wall beside him, crossing one ankle over the other and swallows down the desire to pull you into him.

“Look at ye, Bonnie. Give us a whirl, eh?” Isobel, at some point while he was too busy making moon eyes at you to notice, had taken up her usual spot beside him, arm wrapped around his leg to lean into him.

“Twirl! Twirl!” She bounces on her feet, jostling Johnny, and he feels like he could do the same. Might just join her if it would convince you. It seems he doesn’t have to though, and he watches with rapt attention as you give them a little spin, hands held out to your sides, and when you face them again you look a little less reserved, timid smile blooming into something easy and comfortable as Isobel surges forward. “Ye’re like the girls on the telly!”

Your eyes flick from Isobel’s gaze of wonderment to Johnny, and when he catches the question behind the subtle uptick of a brow, the way your eyes widen a fraction, he explains. “Wean’s been watchin’ those princess movies all week. The one with the, um… what’s ‘er friends name, Bell?”

Isobel scoffs, offended that he doesn’t remember the name of the comical sidekick. “It’s Mushu, and he’s not her friend. He’s her spirit guide. Like the wisps,” she corrects, little hands on her hips and scowling up at him. Johnny puts his hands up in front of him in surrender.

“I’ll get it right one of these days, leannan. How about ye go pause yer movie and we’ll get cleaned up for dinner?” She gives him an enthusiastic nod, all offense forgotten, and trots off to the living room to do just that. With Isobel momentarily occupied his attention returns to you, lingering on all the places your dress clings to your body, to the delicious figure he’s sure you’re hiding beneath it. “She’s right.” Your head tilts to the side, that same brow inching upwards in confusion.

“About what?”

“About ye lookin’ like royalty.” He revels in the way you stall in front of him, body seemingly frozen as your mind works to process his words, and then your eyes are looking anywhere but his face, fingers twisting your ring between them and searching for a response.

“It’s just a dress, nothing special,” you try to dismiss, and he openly appraises you now. Lets his eyes rake down your form before they meet yours again.

“‘S a dress I’d get on muh knees for, bonnie. If royalty isnae the right word for that, then maybe I should-” He doesn’t get to finish, interrupted by Isobel darting out of the living room and tugging on his arm, pulling him backwards towards the kitchen.

“Come on, bubby. Ye said we’d wash up,” she whines and continues pulling on his arm, throwing all of her weight into her efforts to move him.

“Aye, that I did,” he finally relents and lets her pull him back a step. “Go on and have a seat.” He gestures to the table, dinner and place settings all laid out already. “We’ll be right behind ye.”

In the washroom Johnny helps Isobel clamber up onto her step stool to wash her hands. “She’s pretty,” she remarks as she takes the soap from him.

“Aye, she is,” he agrees, helping her to lather her hands.

“D’ye think she’ll bake for us?”

“I dunno leannan. Ye’ll have to ask ‘er after dinner.”

She does, and she’s ecstatic when you agree with a little encouragement from Johnny. He doesn’t know much about baking but he knows you need flour and sugar and eggs and all that, and he’d made sure they have all those things from the shops when they’d gone yesterday to prepare for dinner. Wasn’t at all joking several days earlier when he said he couldn’t stop thinking about you and Isobel bopping about the kitchen together, though he can think of several things other than your spoon that he’d like to lick right now. Watching you bend over to retrieve the pan from the oven has him shifting in his seat and readjusting himself while you and Isobel have your backs turned.

“Bubby, look!” Isobel is nearly jumping with joy as you set the pan down on top of the stove. “We made cookies!” The smile you give her, the adoration pouring off of you in waves, is something he wishes he could bottle and keep all to himself. Something he never dreamed he could have. Someone who loves Isobel just as much as he does. He thinks if Isobel can win you over, make you fall in love with her, then maybe he stands a chance. Maybe you can love him too.

He just wishes she could be here to see it. That was all she’d ever wanted for him—to see him in love, settle down and start a family. Now a piece of her will always be a part of whatever family he chooses to make.

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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ragingbookdragon · 1 year

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How To Save A Life

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: Hi, I made a part 2 so no one would be sad :) -Thorne

**********************************************************************

It’s been a week since Price let them have leave after the mission, but no one left the base, most feel like they can’t. Price, being the saint he is, let them handle training for the new recruits instead of forcing them to leave. It’s easy work. Yelling at fresh meat is always something officers can do with perfection, whether it be to eat, shit, shower, or shave.

This time, it’s a meeting.

The meeting hall of the base is filled with chatter, laughter, and arguing. Multitudes of metal tables fill the floor. The officers of the 141 are sitting at a table of their own near the front, waiting for Price to start when the doors open and two men walk in flagged by a third.

“Admiral on deck!” One shouts.

Fifty men hit their feet at attention as the old man steps in behind the two, tucking his sunglasses into his breast pocket. The uniform he wears is old, World War Two old, they realize as they stare at him. He’s old and whitened, trimmed white hair and a mustache to go with it. His wrinkled hand wraps around a cane as he steps past, but it’s almost like he doesn’t even need it, legs still firm and strengthened.

He doesn’t give them the call to stand relieved, and the enlisted are looking to Price and the others for their next move; they’re still standing at attention. He’s old. Retired no doubt, and they don’t have to salute or stand at attention to him, but they’re not about to argue.

The old man walks past to the wall across the room and admires it. “‘Those Who Went Above and Beyond’,” he reads, whistling at the end. “Quite a few souls this task force has acquired.” He looks over their pictures before falling on the one that had joined a week before. “What a pretty dove,” he murmurs to himself, pulling the picture off the wall.

He walks over to a table and turns the photo face down, slamming it on the hard corner. Glass shatters on the front and everyone save the officers jump at the action. He snags the photo from the frame, letting it fall without care as he raises it in his hand, a woman in her enlisted uniform, barely out of the cusp of her adulthood.

“I tried to make her into a well-respected lady, but she never wanted to be anything but an officer.” His smile is prideful. “Went behind my back to enlist. Was madder than a hornet when I found out, but when I saw her in that uniform…I was never more proud.” He shows everyone the photo. “My granddaughter. The only surviving child of my only son. The woman I raised.”

They know her, all of them do. She’s the one who died last week.

His eyes don’t leave her face. “And someone here in this room is the someone she died for.” He finally scans the room. “I don’t know who he is. I don’t particularly care to know anything about him.”

For once in his life, Ghost wishes he wasn’t who he was.

“Ghost,” he says and all eyes in the room shift with a palpable force to the masked man at the front table. “Where are you.”

“Here, Admiral,” Ghost replies and the old man takes his time to get there, standing in front of him.

“What’s your rank, son?”

“Lieutenant, sir.”

“How many kills do you have to your name?”

“Over three-hundred.”

“Hmpf.” Ghost’s a giant compared to him, but he stares like he’s a foot tall. He raises the photo. “She talked about you. About the task force in her letters. Kept talking about a ghost in them. Could never figure out what she meant by it. But…I see now.” He puts the photo in front of his face. “Look at her, Ghost.”

And Ghost does. Follows the order, but wishes he could feel anything but the overwhelming regret.

“Have anything you wish you could’ve said to her?”

He does.

He has hundreds of things he could tell her.

Don’t die for me.

Die for something worth dying for.

He says nothing and the Admiral nods, turning the photo back to himself. “She was the light of my world. The hopes of all my pride and joy.” His smile is almost contagious. “They used to ask us what we were fighting for in the War. I had nothing. But if I’d had her back then, it would’ve been her.”

His hand dips into his pocket and he pulls something out, punching it through the top of the photo; a tack.

“And now I buried her. Shot dead in the asshole end of Russia by an enemy she had no business fighting. Dying for her superior. I wonder if she ever wished for a more honorable ending. I wonder if you tried to save her.”

“She died for you, Lieutenant. My little girl died for you.” He put the photo square in the center of Ghost’s chest and raised his fist, slamming it against the man. Ghost didn’t even flinch as the metal pierced his clothing, skin, and into the bone of his sternum. “Don’t you ever fucking forget it.”

He turns, walking back to the door and leaves without another word.

Price relieves them but no one even wants to move; they’re all still staring at Ghost.

And Ghost, Ghost doesn’t move from his attention, feels nothing but a three by five piece of paper burning itself into his chest. Something starts to feel too tight in his heart. Twisting so painfully that he can’t breathe. There are too many eyes on him, too many murmurs he can hear. He feels the heat on his hands, looks down finally at them and sees blood, he blinks, eyes widening as the world around them him shifts. Snow crunches under his boots as he looks up, sees her in the distance held in the arms of a man who looks awfully like him. He starts moving, feet carrying him in a sprint across the battlefield as puffs of white air escape through the mask. The man is shaking her, screaming at her to wake up, and he can’t breathe, hands outstretched for her as he slides to his knees. He touches her and—

***

Ghost shoots up with an audible gasp, lifting the mask above his mouth so he can suck in air into his deprived lungs. Sleep-filled eyes suddenly awake. He shudders as warm air fills his body and looks around the hospital room, at the monitor still steadily beeping along, the clean sheets on the bed, and the woman tucked in, quietly breathing as she sleeps.

He lets his shoulders fall in relief as he settles back into the uncomfortable hospital chair. He remembers now. Soap and Gaz taking out the shooter, Ghost calling in a rescue after she’d fallen unconscious. The chopper picking them up, keeping her stable until they arrived. The surgery. The survival.

She’s alive.

She’s still fucking alive.

Ghost takes a look at her, her expression calm; his hand moves on its own accord, gently brushing along her cheek. Her skin is warm under his fingers and he dips his hand down, laying it in the center of her chest. Her heart beats solidly beneath, strongly. Too stubborn to die, she’d muttered when they’d gotten her to the hospital.

He wishes he’d never hurt the heart beneath.

He’s so focused on the feeling of her beating beneath him to notice her eyes have opened. It’s the change in her breathing that alerts him and he looks up, doesn’t remove his palm as he meets her slitted gaze.

“How you feelin’, rookie?” he asks softly, and she merely smiles at him.

“Hey, LT…” she whispers, throat scratchy with cotton. His thumb brushes in a calming line and she adds, “Knew you liked me too.”

Ghost laughs, corners of his mouth pulling up as he smiles. He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t pull away from her either. He simply keeps his hand there and stares at her as she stares back, both smiling at each other.

“I’ll spend as long as it takes to repay you for saving my life.”

She shakes her head, or tries to and lifts a shaky hand, laying it atop his. “Take me out on a date…I’ll consider it even.”

He breathes deeply.

Ghost doesn’t know if he can trust himself to love.

Ghost doesn’t do love.

Ghost has never kept anyone close enough to attempt love.

But Simon Riley loves.

He stays with her all night. They talk as long as the medicine allows for her to stay awake until the periods where he simply watches her in silence. Protects her when she’s vulnerable. Simon feels the burn in his chest. The coldness of the dead organ beginning to de-freeze to live again. He’s scared. Unprepared for what’s to come with this. But something in there too feels like it’s been saved. He’s been saved.

And I would’ve stayed up with you all night, had I known how to save a life.

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space-writes · 5 months

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15 questions tag

tagged by @ahordeofwasps a little while back, so thank you! I'm going to fill this out for Vivien from claws, since it'll be good to flesh out and play with his character more outside of unhinged drafting hours.

interview under the cut, with a mild content warning for referenced self-harm and suicidal ideation.

Rainier's done a lot of interviews. Vivien's watched all of them, over and over and over. Sometimes, when he needs to escape his body and mind both, he’ll mouth his own answers alongside Rainier’s. It’s almost like they’re sitting together on the stupid TV sofa, under the bright lights.

“So, are you named after anyone?”

“My dead brother.” He’s always wondered what Rainier would think of that. “Is that weird? I loved him. Now it’s like he’s not dead, even though he is, and he left me.”

Rainier wouldn’t think he was weird. Rainier would understand. Of everyone in the world, he’s sure Rainier would understand.

“When’s the last time you cried?”

Vivien stares at the dark ceiling. His arms are still stinging, freshly scrubbed and wrapped. New scabs to pick tomorrow. “About twenty minutes ago.”

“Do you have kids?”

“If someone ever knocks me up, I’ll kill myself.” The thought of it makes him want to claw his insides out. There’s no-one, not even Rainier, he’d do that for. Would he adopt, though, if Rainier wanted? He’s not good with kids, they make him feel awkward and ungainly, but he thinks Rainier would be a good dad. Maybe that would work.

“Do you use sarcasm a lot?”

“I grew up on the internet, what do you think?”

“What’s the first thing you notice about people?”

“How big they are. How tall. If they could fuck me up if they decided to.”

“What’s your eye colour?”

“Dark brown.” His are darker than Rainier’s. He’s checked. Rainier’s are still brown, but they’ve got warm little flecks of honey in them, and they tint gold in sunlit photos. He could gaze into them for hours.

“Do you prefer scary movies or ones with happy endings?”

“Horror movies are better than any other kind. They show what reality feels like. They’re more real than real life.” He likes the ones that hurt—him or the characters. The ones were everyone dies at the end, or where the ones that survive are ruined forever; stories where you can’t change back. He likes the way it feels, when the terror fades the world out, when it lingers in the dark afterwards, keeping you awake.

“Have you got any special talents you’ve been hiding?”

When Rainier says no, he sounds adorably humble, ducking his head a little with a self-abashed laugh. He’s too busy being the best demonologist in history to have extra talents. Vivien knows he’s good in bed, that’s not even a question, but he supposes it doesn’t really count as a hidden talent. Not one for a morning talkshow interview anyway.

When he says he has no talents, he just sounds pathetic. If he has to interview with Rainier, hopefully they skip this one.

“Where were you born?”

“At home. I was a surprise—surprise baby, surprise birth. I never did anything right, not from conception.” He’d never say where home was, not on TV. Someone might go looking. Someone might go finding.

“What hobbies do you have? What do you like to do for fun?”

“I don’t know, listen to music, I guess? I don’t like going out for it, though, I hate crowds. And loud noise. And drunk people.” Keeping track of what Rainier’s doing doesn’t count as a hobby—that’s a calling. “I can’t really have a bunch of hobbies—they all require money and interacting with people. Is skiving off the therapy your sister keeps making you go to a hobby? Cause I do that and it’s fun.”

“Do you have any pets?”

“I wish. I want a tarantula—they’re so beautiful, so delicate, and I don’t see why I still can’t have one. It’s not like they leave hair everywhere for some other tenant later to get allergic to or whatever.” Vivien sighs, glancing at the many, many printed-out arachnids decorating his wall amongst the band posters. “Besides, I couldn’t afford one anyway. Not like Jaimie would help me pay for it.”

“Were you a sports man? How do you keep yourself in shape now?”

Vivien snorts. “I ditched every P.E. lesson I could. I don’t want to get undressed and then sweaty around a bunch of girls, or deal with a bunch of stupid bullshit because they can’t let me in the boys changing room. Fuck all that. I don’t care if I’m not ‘in shape’. It doesn’t matter anyway if I can’t get surgery yet.”

“How tall are you?”

“Like. Five-five, I think? Five-six? Something like that.”

“I’m sure we can all probably guess, but what was your favourite subject in school?”

“Biology. Seeing how things fit together, how they work—looking at the insides. Doing dissections. Three girls ran out of the class when we had to cut up a sheep’s heart, it was fucking pathetic.”

Not that he got the best results. They rely so much on remembering everything, exactly correct, and it’s not his fault if stuff just won’t stick. He knows what he needs to.

“You have what a lot of people might call a dream job—is it? Or do you dream of working somewhere other than Riess University’s demonology department?”

“I don’t want to work for those fuckers at Riess, I just want…” Vivien stares at the screen, at Rainier three inches high rendered in flat pixels. “I just want to be with you. In whatever way you’ll have me.”

---

Here are the questions for anyone that needs it!

Are you named after anyone?

When was the last time you cried?

Do you have kids?

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

What’s your eye colour?

Scary movies or happy endings?

Any special talents?

Where were you born?

What are your hobbies?

Have you any pets?

What sports do you play/have played?

How tall are you?

Favourite subject in school?

Dream job?

claws taglist: @belovedviolence @foxboyclit (ask to be +/-)

no-pressure tagging @loopyhoopywrites @zmwrites and @pens-swords-stuff

#writeblr #tag games #15 questions #oc interview #c: vivien webb #wip: claws #it's so very deeply Vivien to have half an interview of him be about Rainier #boy develop an actual sense of self that doesn't centre around the man you're obsessed with #i love this horrid little man #had fun formatting this more like a little interview story like i've seen some other people do!

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charmed-henry · 2 years

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Brother, Sister, Sister; Traitor, Coward, Coward | Oneshot

Date: Late June Featuring: Henry Charming, Augusta Charming For context: Ill Tidings Brought, Jumping Ship Warnings: Some vague references to war/battle

Henry visits his sister’s flat and ponders what is to come.

After they left the DunBrochs, Augusta invited Henry to go out to London with her to help her pack. It occurred to Henry that he had never been to his sister’s flat before. She had either come to visit him in Swynlake, or they had both gone to the house in Primrose Hill.

But Gus lived all the way in East London, a lively neighborhood teeming with vintage shops and curry restaurants and industrial-looking clubs. It was the kind of place Henry could see his parents visiting for a few hours, deeming “trendy!” and probably never returning to. Gus seemed at ease here, by contrast. Henry could practically see her shoulders relax, her smile turn easier. Gus seemed to have a whole life here. One that Henry knew nothing about.

The sight of her flat confirmed this. The walls were covered in posters-- art prints, adverts for indie artists that Henry was pretty sure Rose or Candace would recognize but he certainly didn’t--and books and papers and tchochkes spilled out of boxes, half-packed. It was quite evident that someone else lived here. This couldn’t all belong to Gus.

But there were more pressing things to discuss first. “This is nice,” Henry said neutrally, looking around.

“I know it’s messy,” Gus said apologetically, fussing with the kettle.

It was, but Gus had always been messy. Henry expected that, after living under the same roof as her for eighteen years. So he shook his head and gave Gus a small smile.

“I was thinking you could crash on the couch if you wanted. It’s a long way back to Swynlake,” Augusta pointed out. Henry nodded silently.

They were silent as Henry helped his sister pack up the kitchen. Augusta was always the introvert, but this felt different, because normally it was Henry prattling on while Augusta nodded to show she was listening, even if she didn’t have much to add. Now, Henry wondered if there was more to it-- like maybe there were things Augusta wanted to say, but didn’t know how.

He opened a drawer and found a Polaroid photo that he could recognize as Augusta, despite the photo’s dim lighting. There was someone else in the photo, too-- a tall, lanky person with floppy black hair and a leather jacket. The two of them were staring at each other, and Henry knew the look in their eyes.

Love.

“Is this...?”

“It’s Mo, yeah,” Augusta said, blushing a little bit. “That’s-- my girlfriend. She’s the one I’m moving in with in Birmingham. I’ve been trying to keep it quiet. I don’t want to put her in any danger-- I’m sure you understand.”

Something crashed over Henry just then. A deep, guilty sort of aching. Augusta looked so happy-- both the Gus in the photo and the one standing across from Henry, smiling to herself in the secret kind of way that people in love smiled. How had he become so estranged? He understood why Gus didn’t tell him, of course. If he and Ashleigh were still together, Henry would want to do anything he could to keep her safe (he still did, of course, but she was less of a target when she wasn’t connected to him).

If only things could have been different.

“She seems lovely,” Henry said, his chest tightening painfully. “I wish I could meet her.”

“Perhaps someday you can,” Augusta said, taking the photo and sticking it in her pocket.

Henry nodded and went back to wrapping up mugs because he didn’t want to cry. But he did, a little bit, a few times. Gus pretended not to notice, and Henry was grateful for that.

The next morning, Gus bought both of them coffees and bacon sandwiches and walked to the train station with Henry.

“This isn’t goodbye, is it?” Henry said, feeling dangerously close to tears again.

“No, it isn’t,” Gus replied quickly, though Henry could see tears welling up in her eyes, too. “You’re going to take care of what you need to take care of in Swynlake. And then you’re going to come stay with Mo and I, okay?”

Henry nodded, but just like that conversation with Candy, he was getting a sinking feeling that this might not actually happen. He didn’t know how this battle was going to end. It might end very badly, whatever that meant. It might mean that Henry needed to stay far away from his sister for her own safety. Or-- no, he wasn’t going to think about any of the possibilities.

“Okay,” Henry said, even though it felt like a lie. What else was he going to say to his sister? To, maybe, the only family he had left?

“I love you, Hen,” Gus choked, the tears spilling freely now.

Henry launched himself at her then, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and holding her tight. “I love you too,” he mumbled into his shoulder. “Be safe. Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know. Be careful.”

“No, you promise me you’re going to be careful,” Augusta said sternly. “Please, don’t do anything stupid. I need you here, Hen.”

Henry nodded, tears running down his cheeks now. “Okay.”

They hugged once more, and it was hard for Henry not to see this as a goodbye. How had they gotten here? Jacqueline off in another country, running from her family’s sins. Henry, about to march into battle. And Augusta, caught somewhere in between, even though she’d been trying to leave for years.

Who was the coward, among the three of them? Who was the traitor?

Henry watched the countryside roll by and tried to remind himself-- his family was safe. No matter how he felt about them, they were safe. That was what mattered.

And now there was nothing left to do but prepare for battle.

#feat augusta #self para #the fall of rome #im emo

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dc418writes · 2 years

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•|Operation: Rekindle|•

✨Pairing✨: mechanic!Ari LevinsonxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: 11-year-old twins Brynn and Aliana are in for a very eventful summer break with their dad.

⚠️: divorce, brief mention of jail, insinuation of violence, v brief mention of intoxication, slight angst, bits of fluff mixed throughout

A/N🎙: So, this is essentially gonna be like the Parent Trap just reimagined to something not as outlandish as parents separating their kids and not telling them about the other lol

Phase 1: So…what happened?

“Dad!,” both girls smile dropping their duffles and suitcases in the foyer with a loud thud before running towards their equally happy father. Even after all these years, he’s easily able to hoist each in one arm making laughs and giggles bounce off the neutral colored walls decorated with pictures of his ‘heart and soul’ as he fondly referred to the two.

You were honestly surprised to see your face up there a couple times. The older photo showing the both of you on your graduation day, cap in your hand and his thick arm around your shoulders as he kissed your temple especially has your lips curling into a small smile.

“How’re my girls?”

“Good!,” Aliana, the youngest by just seven minutes, giggles feeling the hairs of Ari’s beard against her cheek along with his lips before they move to her sister’s. “Brynn’s gotta boyfriend.”

“I do not! Ali does.”

“Nuh uh!”

“Okay how about no boyfriend talk from either of you until you’re 50. Or, better yet, I’m long gone in the dirt,” he states setting both down. When his eyes finally fall on you, it’s as if you’re back in that university cafeteria all over again. Looking over your notes with a last minute rush similar to the roadrunner hoping all the information you needed would stick before a tall distraction easy on the eyes with chestnut hair resting just below his ears took up the remainder of your time.

And then—like always when that feeling would come—you felt sad. Mournful even.

“Hey.”

“Hey Ari,” you smile fiddling with the strap of your purse.

“And here we go again,” Brynn mumbles only loud enough that her sister would hear. “We’re gonna put our bags in the room.”

“Need some help?,” both you and Ari ask at the same time secretly needing an excuse for a break from the tension.

“No we got it.”

They never really understood why their parents were like this. The obvious chemistry still there from the stolen glances and loving gleams in their eyes. Yet at the end of the day they went to their separate homes acting as if all that never happened. If they still liked each other, then why weren’t they together?

“So, how’s things at the shop?,” you ask following him to sit on the leather couch.

“Good! Well same as usual really. Mrs. Howell came in the other day asking about you and the girls.” She also might’ve mentioned how she wished you and Ari never divorced, but it was probably for the best that be left out.

“Yea, I’ve been meaning to go by the bakery so she could see them but I haven’t found the time. She always says how she’s got a slice of pie waiting with their names on it.”

“And we both know that ‘slice’ is gonna be a whole pie,” he adds making you both chuckle. “How’s the kitchen chef? Boss still down your neck?”

“Good, and no not anymore since someone and his repair shop gang left such amazing reviews on the food. Not to mention nearly ripping his head off,” you smirk.

“He shouldn’t have messed with my girl.” The once playful mood noticeably shifts at his former term of endearment. Ari hadn’t called you that since the girls were infants, yet you could feel the burn to your cheeks as you gently cleared your throat to keep your emotions at bay.

“I’m sorry. It just slip-,”

“Ari it’s fine,” you brush off hoping he wouldn’t break through your carefree facade. “It’s uh getting late though, so I should probably go.”

“You’re leaving already ma?,” Aliana asks just before reaching the last step with Brynn close on her heels as usual. “Stay for dinner!”

“Yea! Dad’s letting us make our own pizzas, and then we’re gonna watch Zombie Masquerade!”

“I said maybe to the movie,” he adds. “Remember I uh said mom may not want you guys watching that so we had to ask first?”

“…but you suggested the movie dad,” Brynn states confused as to why he seemingly forgot how excited he was on the phone that night when he brought up the idea.

“Yea dad, you said how you wanted to see it at the movies but couldn’t so-,”

“Okay thanks girls,” Ari nervously chuckles trying to discreetly motion for them to stop talking.

“If you think they’ll be okay, then it’s fine with me,” you grin watching the pair excitedly bounce on the balls of their feet.

“You say that because I’m gonna be the one dealing with the bad dreams and late nights aren’t you?”

“Yep, and anything else that might come along,” you nod patting his protruding pec, which probably wasn’t the best idea on your part now missing the ridges and movements of his muscles under your fingers.

“Well…why not stay the night then? You know, to help out if the girls get scared?” With those addicting, soft baby blues looking down at you, it’s hard to say no. Who were you kidding, Ari’s general aura made it hard to say no.

It was exactly why you tried to keep your interactions short. Of course you were always cordial and friendly, but anything longer than an hour or two, and you knew your conscience would disappear, and maybe even your clothes too.

“It’d be like just like when we were little!,” Brynn smiles hugging Ari’s hips along with her sister.

“Yea! Cmon ma you know you wanna stay.” Although different colors, the three eerily similar sets of pleading eyes batting their long lashes causes a heavy sigh to pass your lips. Of course you wanted to spend the night, but was it the smartest choice?

“I’d love to, but I got a busy day tomorrow so I better head home.”

That’s not what they wanted to hear, but the pair understood letting their mom kiss their cheeks before giving her a final hug. As usual, Ari was there to walk you to the door embracing you in a hug as well that tended to last longer than one typically does. The bergamot and citrus of his cologne hitting your nostrils makes it even harder to let go.

“That offer’s always here you know. For dinner or spending the night if you want.” It’s an innocent statement, but the deep timbre of his voice vibrating through his chest and his lips at the top of your head still successfully make you weak in the knees. You can only nod peering up at your ex with a small smile suddenly unable to find your voice.

“Guess I’ll uh see you later then,” he says letting you go although every fiber and cell of his being protested.

“Call if you or the girls need anything.” With a single nod, he returns your small wave watching in remorse as you walk back to your car and your taillights grow smaller and smaller the further you drive down the road.

“Alright m’ladies, are you prepared for your evening among the royally undead?,” Ari dramatically asks donning a terribly fake British accent. The girls looked unimpressed pausing their conversation to deadpan their dork of a father.

“Hey, those were the movie voiceover guy’s words not mine.”

“Dad, what’s up with you and mom?,” Brynn outright questions crossing her arms in front of her chest. She never was one to beat around the bush.

“What do you mean?”

Patting the cushion in between them, both girls shift their bodies towards Ari as soon as his bottom touches the seat.

“For starters, you love each other..but you’re not together,” Aliana states holding out her index finger ready to count out their grievances.

“And I don’t know if you know this, but divorced people don’t love each other,” Brynn adds making Ari chuckle.

“And how do you know how divorced people act?”

“There’s kids at school with divorced parents dad. Plus Real Housewives.”

He can only shake his head as he laughs to himself at the things that come from their mouths.

“Well, I don’t know about those other parents, but I’ll always love your mom. She’s still my best friend, was my first serious relationship that truly showed me what love is. And not to mention she gave me my heart and soul,” he smiles taking turns pecking the tops of their heads.

“Then what happened? You love her and we know she still loves you,” Aliana asks peering up at her father with head of curls lying on his shoulder.

Truthfully he didn’t fully know that answer himself. At least not the root that eventually sprouted to your ultimate joint decision.

“Basically, I uh did something very dumb that I regret, which then led to me and your mom having a long conversation and deciding maybe it was best we weren’t together anymore.”

“Mhmm…does that mean you got drunk and kissed someone else?”

“What?! No, where’d you get that from?”

“Happened on Mansion Rules,” Brynn answers before grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Hillary deserved so much better than Todd.”

“Alright no more cable in your room, and remind me to call both your grandmothers to stop watching reality tv while babysitting,” he chuckles briefly tickling their sides making them giggle. “All you guys need to know is everything’s fine now, and I’ll never do it again.”

“And where am I supposed to go Y/N?!”

“I don’t know, maybe Frank’s since you’ve very recently shared a space before!,” you shout from the closet forcing more shirts and underwear in his duffle.

This was far from the “welcome home” Ari was expecting. Sure he knew he’d more than likely be met with your narrowed eyes and stern tone as you tried to figure out how this could happen. A small part even expected for you to just hug him and refuse to let go as you peppered kisses all over his face.

Clearly he was very off.

“I said I was sorry,” he sighs sitting on the edge of the bed. Not getting any sleep the night before, he wanted nothing more than to lie down comfortably in his own bed under his soft sheets. Preferably, with you beside him.

“But what was I gonna do? Just let him get jumped?”

“No, but try to be smart about it at least!”

Finally appearing before him, a thud echoes through the room as you drop his bag by his feet. Your eyes noticeably red and lashes wet from the brief contact they made with his before returning to the floor.

“That’s enough for about a week, maybe two. All that’s left is your toothbrush and whatever else you think you’ll need.”

There’s silence as he just peers at you and your thumb anxiously tapping against your upper arm while you hold yourself. Was this what you truly wanted?

“So that’s it? One mistake and I’m done?”

“We don’t have time for just one mistake Ari! Especially not one that puts you in jail,” you snap lifting your head. “We’re parents now. We have two little girls to think about, and the fact that you even put yourself in that situation shows me they’re not your first priority. That I’m not either.”

“You know that’s not true,” he lowly states, his own eyes beginning to water.

“No. Not anymore.” Both of you were silently crying now. Your respective sets of tears freely flowing down onto your cheeks and necks.

Yet neither of you moved to console the other. Fighting your urges to reach out ensuring that you’d be okay, and this was just a bump in the road for your relationship.

Wiping his eyes, he sniffs and clears his throat trying to collect himself. His gaze shifting to the clear sky and sunshine outside that definitely did not reflect the current mood inside the two-bedroom apartment. Did he so easily want to accept defeat? No, that was never in his nature. “You just don’t know when to quit do you?” His mother would grin shaking her head watching the little boy continue on, whether it was trying to perfect that three-pointer or reach that cookie jar she specifically told him to leave alone. It’s one of the many things you loved about him, but knew, just as his mother did, that it’d be his downfall at some point.

“Can I see them before I go?,” he quietly asks.

“They’re at my parents’. Won’t be back until tomorrow.”

Nodding his head, he slowly stands with a sigh bringing his bag to sling over his shoulder in the process. He’s hesitant lifting his thumb and index finger to your chin, but seeing you meet his eyes not pushing him away he leans down until your lips press together. Any other time it’d be agonizingly slow and one of you would’ve took the lead progressing things much further along. Now, it felt right. It fit the tone as you both needed one last time savoring each other. His beard prickling your skin. The way he’d always nip at your bottom lip before his tongue was appearing against your own.

Your always soft lips cushioning and soothing his own. The whimpers leaving your throat that hit him so deep he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand for long.

Foreheads resting against each other’s, you gently shake your head whispering “don’t” knowing exactly what he’d say next.

“You may not wanna hear it, but I love you. I-I love you, I love the girls, and I’ll never stop.”

“Pst…pst! Ali you awake?”

“No,” she sighs “I got the twin vibe something was up with you. Plus you kept moving and making the beads tap against the headboard.”

“Sorry.” Both girls shift to lie at the foot of their beds facing each other from opposite sides of the room. “I just keep thinking about mom and dad. I wonder what happened that was so bad it broke them up?”

“Dunno, but dad told us not to worry. Plus whatever happened they’re apparently over it now,” Ali states hugging her penguin stuffed animal.

“Yea that’s true. I…I just wish we could sit them in a room and get them to make up you know? Clearly there’s something still there.”

There’s silence as both girls just peer at the light carpet lining the floor. Aliana yawning as Brynn taps against her yellow, tropical themed sheets while the occasional car can be heard passing by outside. An idea soon comes to her mind though, quickly sitting up on her knees and startling her sister.

“Then again, what if we can?”

“Can what?”

“Get them back together!,” Brynn excitedly answers before covering her own mouth realizing she might’ve been a bit too loud. “What if we can get mom and dad back together? Make them realize they’re meant to be together.”

“And how would we do that?”

“…I have no idea, but we can figure it out.”

Biting her lip, she sits up with legs crossed under her and hugging her penguin close to her. “I dunno B, what if we make things worse? Or they really don’t want to be together anymore?”

“Then…we’ll deal with it. But I’d still rather try than not, and miss out on us all being a real family.”

“We are a real family though.”

“You know what I mean Ali. Us being in one house rather than going back and forth,” Brynn smiles sliding out of bed to sit next to her sister. “So, you with me? I can’t do this without you.”

A beat of silence later, and she’s flashing a smile similar to the one in front of her before sticking out her hand to perform their secret handshake. “This summer just got a whole lot more interesting.”

—

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rocorambles · 3 years

Text

What Is Love?

Pairing: Gojo x reader (Main), Nanami x reader (Side)

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Rape, Sacrilegious, God Complex and Delusional Gojo, Somnophilia, Slapping, Choking, Humiliation, Coercion, Non-Con Infidelity

Summary: Gojo learns what love is and unfortunately, you're the object of his newfound affection.

A/N: Thank you as always for beta-ing @sawamooora and dedicating this to my dear @lets-go-datehoe. Thank you for sending this request, Yuli~

Love? Gojo Satoru doesn’t believe in love. Love is for hopeless, lonely souls. Love is for miserable pathetic wretches desperate to fill an emptiness in their hearts, in their lives.

When everyone in the world is already falling head over heels to serve him, to be with him, when he's given everything he's ever wanted and more on a silver platter, why would he need love?

Gojo Satoru is already at the top of the world, with or without love.

Now lust? Gojo understands lust.

Carnal pleasure is never unwelcomed and unlike his elders, his head isn’t shoved so far up his ass to deny that he adores the feeling of his cock inside a slobbering mouth, a sopping wet cunt, an exquisitely tight ass.

But more than that, his arrogance and ego thrives and swells as women throw themselves at him, the feeling of being desired only fueling the prideful monster inside of him, only fueling his borderline delusion.

Of course everyone wants him. He’s Gojo Satoru after all.

And so he lets himself be worshipped, lets woman after woman praise him, reveling in the way they chant his name like a prayer as he returns their devotion with thick sticky white blessings. He smirks at the way they kneel before him, staring up at him in reverence, their pretty mouths and throats stretched wide across his cock.

Gojo Satoru is a god, and gods do not chase after mere mortals. So when he meets and you barely give him the time of day other than a polite bow, he shrugs his shoulders.

You’re just another disbeliever. Another silly lamb he needs to convert. Nothing more. Nothing less. Definitely nothing to get worked up about.

It’s almost amusing how you’re playing hard to get, sinning by spitting such crude and crass remarks at a deity like him every time he tries to speak to you. And it’s almost infuriating how you turn your nose up at him, as if you’re qualified to have an opinion of him, let alone think of him as beneath you. But he hides the pleased smile on his face when he sees your gaze linger just a tad too long to be mere coincidence the first time he reveals his eyes to you, a look of awe slipping past your scowling countenance.

See? They all come around eventually.

And so he lays it on thicker, draping his tall figure over yours, letting his warm breath grace the back of your neck, murmuring coy words in your ear. His long fingers find themselves tangling in your hair, brushing against your hands, touching every part of you as much as he can get away with.

You’re so close. He can feel your walls slowly crumbling away, can see the unsureness in your eyes as you half heartedly nudge him away after unconsciously leaning into his touch. Just a little more…

Except something, or rather someone, stops him.

Gojo Satoru isn’t usually caught off guard, especially not by the likes of Nanami Kento. The ex-salary man is a good man, but just a man nonetheless, no matter how you dress it up. But Gojo grudgingly admits at least surprise, if not something more, when he hears you’re in Tokyo and decides to pay your apartment a visit, only to find the Grade 1 sorcerer’s tongue shoved down your throat, your naked bodies entangled in rumpled bed sheets.

He tells himself it’s just a one night stand...maybe a friends with benefits relationship at most when he happens to catch both of you holding hands in broad daylight, a carefree smile he’s never seen before stretched across Nanami’s face as he sits at a cafe table with you, watching you happily munch on some pastry his underclassman has purchased for you.

Nothing he can’t handle.

But if you were a bitch before, a snarling ferocious wildcat whenever Gojo was around, you’re even worse now. Your apathy, the nonchalance with which you politely smile and nod in acknowledgement at Gojo before promptly ignoring him for the suited man by your side, gets under his skin like nothing ever has before. For once, Gojo is at a loss.

Ahh, so this is what denial feels like. This is the rejection and emptiness that he’s seen drive others to madness. This is love.

Gojo Satoru experiences his first heartache, but he doesn’t break down into pitiful sobs, he doesn’t mope around in self-pity.

He laughs.

He’s lost the battle, but he hasn’t lost the war. And when others would have turned tail and fled, he stands his ground, icy blue eyes sparkling in glee at the prospect of a new challenge, the prospect of his sweetest victory yet.

Gojo Satoru is a dangerous man. You know that with all your heart and soul, so it only makes sense that your hackles raise anytime he’s in your proximity. Maybe you take it too far, disrespecting your senior to an extent that would bring shame to you if it were anyone other than the Special Grade sorcerer. But in hindsight you’ll wish you did more.

You’ll wish you hadn’t caught the attention of the world’s strongest sorcerer. You’ll wish you hadn’t found yourself mesmerized by his sheer power, by those damning, dazzling eyes. You’ll wish you hadn’t begun to be ensnared by his allure, a trap you’ve heard the consequences of far too often from your heartbroken and weeping fellow female sorcerers. Maybe you’ll even wish you had just let him have a taste of you, use you before tossing you out like trash, like every other woman who’s fallen in bed with him, instead of whetting his appetite only to deny him of his feast, only to have him fixate on you even more.

But like Gojo, you know love and lust are two different things. And when Nanami shows up in your life, like a knight in shining armor, you feel Gojo’s spell on you shatter, your heart fluttering and thawing the ice that had begun to creep up your body, trapping you in endless blue.

Love is blinding, and really, you should have known that normal boundaries don’t exist in Gojo’s world. But your adoration for your lover has you hesitantly, but politely, letting the cheerful sorcerer into your shared home with Nanami — even though your boyfriend is overseas for a mission, not due back for at least another week.

It would be a lie to say you’re completely relaxed and fine with the circumstance you’re in, alone with Gojo Satoru with no chance of anyone being able to help you if something were to happen. But for whatever reason, Nanami respects the man, even considers him a friend, and in turn you feel an obligation of sorts to at least be cordial. And besides, Gojo isn’t a good man, but he’s not a bad man…right?

You find it difficult to believe that Gojo didn’t know Nanami was out of town, that his pout is sincere when you tell him that Nanami won’t be back anytime soon. There are only so many Grade 1 sorcerers in Tokyo and even less that Gojo actively keeps in touch with. But what’s the alternative? Believe Gojo came to see you? Unlikely.

Gojo is a womanizer, a slut, whatever other word you want to use. But a homewrecker? Especially of a dear friend? Never. (Frankly, you think it would just be too much of a bother for the emotionally stunted man.)

And you’re glad to see that your theories are proving to be true as the night continues, wondering if maybe the white-haired man is just lonely.

He’s strangely pleasant as he keeps a respectable distance from you, no suggestive comments spewing from his mouth, even his obnoxious arrogance kept to a tolerable low. You feel your guard drop, your smiles feeling more natural, genuine laughs slipping past your lips as he tells you about his latest adventures and missions.

But as a yawn interrupts your conversation and you stare askance at how late it is before urging him home to get some rest, apologizing for keeping him so long, your heart drops as you feel an overwhelming presence caging you against your living room couch, long limbs on either side of your body.

“What do you see in Nanami that you don’t see in me?”

The question is so jarring you almost forget the panic rising in your chest, mouth moving soundlessly as you try to process the meaning of his words. But instead of an answer, all that bubbles out of you is a shaky plea for him to leave.

Gojo’s never been good at following orders or commands. Why would he be? Since when has a god ever needed to listen to mortals? And you’re no exception.

You whimper as you’re suddenly transported to the bedroom you share with Nanami, struggling to no avail as Gojo easily tears your clothing off, positioning you on all fours in front of the floor-length mirror that decorates the corner of the room. Bile rises in your throat as he takes his blindfold off, blue eyes seemingly piercing your soul even through just a reflection and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to imagine you’re anywhere but here, with anyone other than him, trying to grasp at every fond memory you have of your blonde lover. But Gojo has a point to make and you gasp, eyes snapping wide open as a large hand wraps around your neck, choking you until you’re forced to stare at your joined bodies on the mirrored surface.

“Look at how perfect we are together. Look at how perfect you are underneath me. You chose that instead of this?”

You sob when he twists your head and forces you to look at a framed photograph on your vanity, a photo Nanami and you had taken together when he had brought you overseas with him for a mission.You regret not insisting that you go with him this time around, wishing more than anything else that you were wrapped in his strong arms.

There’s something irritating about your wailing and blubbering, your little hiccups and sniveling only fueling something dark and twisted inside of Gojo. Maybe it’s the way he knows that you’d never act like this if he was Nanami. Maybe it’s the way he knows you’re lust incarnate whenever Nanami has his hands or mouth on you. Maybe it’s the way he knows that you despise him and his touch so much, that you’d rather die than let him have you.

Ungrateful bitch.

Well if you’re going to cry, Gojo might as well give you something to cry about. A crazed grin slices his handsome face as your screams reach an all-time high, a frenzy, as he shoves his cock inside your unprepped hole, his shaft twitching in interest when you desperately wail his name over and over again as if that would do anything other than have him intensify his pace. But as pretty as his name sounds from your mouth, he tires of your useless pleas for him to stop. Gojo uses one hand to shove your face into the floor, your garbled cries muffled by the carpet as he chases his end, moaning at how perfect your tight, gummy walls feel around him. He’s dreamt of this for far too long and with a grunt, he cums inside of you, draping over your body and pressing his lips against the back of your neck, affectionately marking and tasting you as he empties his balls.

Through the pain and shame, relief floods through you, hope that this is finally all over, that he’ll leave you and your battered body alone. And you play dead, letting him do as he pleases, only occasionally wincing when he leaves a particularly intense mark on your skin, momentarily cringing when he pulls out, thick liquid trickling from your abused hole.

But you should have known better, should have known this was just the beginning.

You weakly paw at the strong arms easily cradling your exhausted figure, trying to wriggle as much as your aching body allows you to, sobbing into his shoulder when you see the direction you’re headed in. You wonder how it’s possible to feel even dirtier as calloused hands lather you with soapy suds, as Gojo takes his time scanning every inch of your body, intimately caressing and mapping every line and curve. And you plead for forgiveness from Nanami when slick begins to pool between your legs, as Gojo gently kneads and experiments with your breasts, rolling your nipples, long fingers expertly circling your clit and slipping inside of you.

Your orgasm shatters you and you stand there like a rag doll, body convulsing and eyes rolling back in your head as you drench Gojo’s digits with your arousal, the sticky strands of betrayal staining his hand as he brings it to your mouth. He gently peppers your neck and shoulder with encouraging kisses as you submissively suck him clean, tugging you along as he dries you off before tucking the both of you in bed, holding you in the mockery of a lover’s embrace. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s chosen to sleep on Nanami’s side of the bed and shame has you curling into a fetal position, has you burying your face in the bedsheets, hoping for at least a whiff of Nanami’s familiar scent, a reminder of his presence.

It works, and you let yourself fall into a restless sleep, your lips twitching every so slightly upwards despite the tears still trapped in your lashes as you think of a tall blonde man, a yellow spotted tie wrapped around your hands as you teasingly pull a spectacled face in for a kiss. You writhe and twist in your sleep, heavily panting as you imagine Nanami’s hands roaming on your figure, his lips tenderly kissing a bold line down your neck and in between the valleys of your breasts. And as you imagine his fingers carefully rubbing your clit, you sigh his name, only to be abruptly woken as a lance of pain shreds through you.

Eyelids still heavy with sleep, body still groggy from being so suddenly roused, you can’t piece together what’s happening, one of your hands instinctively cupping your smarting cheek. But you frantically claw and bat in the dark, knowing exactly who’s on top of you despite the fact that your eyes haven’t fully adjusted to the blackness, the way your body is ripped apart once more, a telltale sign of whose cock is penetrating you.

“It’s very rude to say another man’s name when I’m the one making you feel so good. Let me teach you the only name you need to know."

There’s something horribly intimate about the position you two are in, the way he’s tainting the very sheets and mattress Nanami had made love to you on countless times. You wish you could force yourself back to sleep, could gouge out your eyes as you begin to make out the man pistoning in and out of you. But it’s no use and you know even sightless, those icy blue orbs are branded in your mind.

You vow to at least not give him the satisfaction of hearing his name from your mouth, pressing and biting your lips until a copper taste assaults your tastebuds. But Gojo has always been talented at everything he does, those gifted eyes seeing far more than they should. You shake your head side to side in denial as a knot quickly begins to form in your gut, body tensing as you feel another wave coming over you, only to let out a confused whimper when everything suddenly stops.

“You get to cum when you say my name and the magic word.”

The playful lilt and childish tone have you seeing red and you sneer in twisted pleasure when a gob of your spit hits him squarely in the face, a litany of curse words and insults spewing from deep inside of you, uncaring of how you’re more like a raving madwoman than a victim.

But you’re not the first brat Gojo’s had to tame, and he just smirks condescendingly down at you before playing you like an instrument, easily bringing you to that narrow brink where even a single breath of air, or a simple flick of a finger seems like it would have you toppling over the edge, only to relentlessly snatch you right back before you can fall.

You don’t know how long he goes on for, your shattered and denied mind barely cognizant of the beginnings of daylight creeping through the window. But as the rays of light make it to your bed, you break.

“Gojo-”

You howl when he pulls out, hips wantonly thrusting in the air for more friction as he crudely slaps his tip against your clit, a frown on his lips.

“That’s not the name I want to hear.”

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. Where’s your fucking backbone? How could you even entertain the idea of screaming another man’s name in your lover’s bed?

But when he steps away, your eyes zero in on how his cock separates from the sopping wet mess between your thighs, an unbidding distressed whine clawing up your throat at the thought of being left high and dry, mind hazy with lust and arousal.

“Sa-Satoru…Satoru, please.”

There’s work to be done and he’s not entirely pleased by the note of hesitancy and reluctance he still hears despite the hours he’s taken out of his time to educate you. But a promise is a promise and fuck if he doesn’t love the way his given name sounds in your mouth. And with just a few more meticulously placed thrusts and practiced twists of his fingers, you come undone, your lewd sex-crazed appearance and dopey smile from finally getting your sweet release dragging him down with you.

But it doesn’t end there and Gojo makes good use of your empty house, of the week he has alone with you.

There’s not a single surface in your home, not a single hole on your body that isn’t used and marked thoroughly. And even he briefly wonders if he’s being too rough with you, a flicker of concern crossing his mind as he pouts at the idea of his new toy breaking so soon.

But you prove your resilience and a strange concoction of pride and irritation festers inside of him as you determinedly clamp your mouth shut, a spark of defiance lighting up those lust-clouded eyes whenever he urges you to say you love him back, despite the way you practically ride and hump his face as he kneels between your legs and eats you out in the kitchen, despite the way you slur and babble his name over and over again like it’s the only thing you know how to say.

You’re adorable and he wishes he had all the time in the world to break you fully without using his trump card, to see just how durable you really are. But time is ticking and Nanami is due back any day now.

“Say you love me.”

He coaxes you by gently holding you in his arms, peppering your face with butterfly kisses, endearingly observing the way you seek the little comfort you can get despite the fact that he’s the giver, so deprived of anything other than frenzied arousal. But steely resolve hardens your eyes and you turn your face away.

“I love Nanami.”

You brace yourself for a cock slamming inside of you, a hand wrapped around your throat, but you aren’t ready for the endless galaxy that suddenly surrounds you, and blood-curling fear washes over you.

Unlimited Void.

You’d have to be living under a rock not to know of it, and yet, seeing it in person, you can safely say the rumors and tales don’t do it justice. Gojo laughs at how you frantically cling onto him, your arms wrapping around him, your face burying itself into his chest, voice trembling as you beg him to release you, beg him to get rid of his domain expansion, beg him not to let you go. You’ve seen the aftermaths of his technique, seen curses and sorcerers much stronger than yourself reduced to brain-dead husks from mere seconds in his domain.

“Say you love me.”

The words are on the tip of your tongue, fear making you docile. But a flash of blonde, a glimpse of a tailored suit in your mind keeps your saving grace stuck in your throat. You tell yourself it’s okay, you don’t mean it, it’s just a means to save yourself, surely Nanami will understand. And you begin to open your mouth, only to break off in a scream as you’re roughly shoved away, your hesitation speaking volumes to the white-haired sorcerer who sighs in irritation.

Not that you really notice or maybe you notice too well. You aren’t sure. You are sure. You can feel your sanity rapidly slipping as everything and nothing slams into your senses at once.

“Satoru, I love you!!”

It’s barely comprehensible, a shrieked frantic wail muddied by anxiety. But it’s enough and you sob in relief when Gojo ruffles your hair like you’re a well-behaved pet, leaning into his touch and digging your nails into his wrist, keeping his contact on you still and steady, dry heaving as you come back to your senses.

You don’t even realize that the repeated mantra is still coming out of your own mouth as you fling yourself onto the sorcerer as his artificial universe fades away, curling up in his lap, heart pounding as you chant “I love you, I love you, I love you” over and over again like it’s your holy scripture.

Gojo is on cloud nine watching you finally come to faith, finally worship him and praise him. You were lost, and now you’re found. And he has no intentions of ever letting you stray again. It’s not like there’s anywhere else for you to go, anything else for you to do other than warm his cock anyway.

He crashes his lips against yours as he easily slips inside your well-used cunt, walls molded and shaped perfectly after countless rounds. It’s sinful how good you feel, how good you sound, and he can feel his balls tighten, his own end quickly approaching as you shatter to pieces over and over again around him, quivering walls milking him, clamping down on him as if you can’t bear the thought of being empty.

But there’s nothing to worry about. What god would leave his faithful disciple unrewarded? What declaration of faith comes without a baptism? And he cums inside of you, hot spurts filling you up, branding you, marking and claiming you as his, the sticky white trails leaking out of your stuffed cunt a public declaration of who you belong to.

There’s silence as he lets you collapse on top of him, grinning at how blissfully fucked out you look, cock already twitching in interest again as he spies the mess of tears and drool dripping down your chin. But there are matters of business to attend to first and he nudges you to look at him, cooing down at vacant eyes still hazy with pleasure.

“Nanami is returning tomorrow-”

Blinding pain shocks you as a large hand tangles with your roots, pulling your head back so far you think your neck might snap.

“What are you so happy about?”

There’s a lightness to his question, the silence before the storm, and you wipe the smile off your face, hissing as he tugs harder.

“I know you like me more, but I didn’t think you would be heartless enough to be so excited about breaking up with your boyfriend. Poor Nanami.”

Even through the pain, the unspoken weight of his words registers in your head and you snarl at him with a vengeance.

“I’m not breaking up with-”

Your throat goes dry as he relinquishes his hold on you, one hand raising to eye-level, pointer and middle fingers beginning to cross, and you go still, mouth snapping shut.

“Good girl. Now you’ve experienced Unlimited Void for yourself. What do you think would happen to Nanami if I left him in there for even a second? Do you think he’d ever be the same even if he were to somehow survive, even if he were to go through months of rehabilitation?”

The inquisitive tone makes it sound like just a bunch of theoretical questions, but you know better, know the ramble for the threat that it is.

Love is about sacrifice, and you’re willing to give it all up for the man whose contact Gojo is pulling up on your phone, whose number is being called. And as the ringtones finally stop and a familiar voice greets you over the speaker, you seal your fate.

#yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo smut #tw: noncon #tw: rape #tw: somnophilia #tw: yandere

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plentyoffandoms · 2 years

Note

So into all the Wardlow love...

Can I possibly get a sweet 2 parter where the reader is Dustin and Cody's baby sister and she helps Dustin train the woman wrestlers and Wardlow has a secret crush on her and doesn't think the reader is interested in him so he doesn't say anything until Brandi accidentally says spills that the reader is VERY interested....and it ends in sweet sexy smut....❤️❤️❤️ please and thank you

Wardlow x f/Reader

Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ Wardlow Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: Some swearing.

Gifs and photos do not belong to me.

I hope you like it.

Summary: f/Reader is the younger sister of Cody & Dustin. She helps train the women wrestlers with her brother. Wardlow has known her for years & has a massive crush on her.

Melissa - Thunder Rosa ☆ Dori - Ruby Soho

YN'S POV:

"Let's go Melissa. One more time." I called out to the AEW Women's World Champion. I just finished showing her how to fix her new finisher so that way it looks better and she was safe while doing so.

"That is what you said last time YN?" Melissa yelled back as she took a big sip from her bottle.

"Well you wanted to make it better. You have to perfect it for when you finally show it next week in Las Vegas."

"I knew I should of gone to Dustin for this." She teased.

"Yeah yeah, just get back in there and do it three more times and then we can go." She groaned loudly but did as I asked.

I stood to the side and watched her like a hawk. Making sure she got it down.

"That's a wrap. Good job Melissa. Thanks Dori for helping out." I said to my long-time friend. She just gave me a thumbs up as she was checking her phone.

I grabbed my items and went to the locker room to go and change. I have dinner tonight with my brothers and their families.

But I wasn't watching where I was going and walked right into what I thought was a wall.

I stumbled back a bit and I was able to catch myself.

"You okay YN?" I looked up at the tall man and smiled.

"Yeah I am Mike. Just have to watch where I am going."

The two of us talked for a bit but I noticed the time and I had to leave the handsome man.

"I'll see you around Mike. Got a family thing." I continued on my way to go change, never once looking back and seeing the sad expression come over his face.

Wardlow's POV:

I watched as YN walked away from me, wishing she didn't have to leave, but I knew she had somewhere to be.

It is Thursday and that is when her family gets together for a dinner. Once a week, everyone gets together at someone's house and they spend the evening together.

Even though Cody, Dustin and YN see each other all the time, that doesn't mean the rest of family gets a chance to see one another.

They did this when their Dad was alive as he insisted on it and they have kept up with the tradition even though he had passed away.

I found myself over the next few days thinking more and more about YN. I mean, she is always in the back of my mind.

But I am finding it harder and harder not to just ask her out on a date and see what she says, but I do not want to ruin our friendship.

I am almost certain that she doesn't see me anymore than just a friend as we have been friends for a long time.

We met years ago when I first started out. Meeting her brothers and father back stage at one of my shows felt like a dream come true.

But then I saw her for the first time and I fell instantly in love with YN Runnels. I have only heard about her as her family was protective of her and keeping her image out of the spotlight.

When I got to know her bit more, YN told me that she never wanted to be famous like her family and that she will more than happy to live a normal life.

I could of laughed at that as she was born into a wrestling family and their legacy has continued on into the next generation all ready.

So she trains women wrestlers. Never appears on TV and you will never see her a do a Promo.

Even her photo isn't on their wrestling schools website. People have no idea they will be trained by her until they get there.

She doesn't do fan fest stuff even though people would pay a lot of money to see the three of then together.

Her wanting to stay out of the spot light puts even more doubts in my mind about asking her out.

My whole career is doing that. I need to stay out there and relevant so I can have a steady income.

"Earth to Mike. Anyone in there?"

I looked down at the bemused face of YNs sister-in-law, Brandi.

"Sorry got caught up in my own thoughts."

She gave me a soft smile. "No worries Mike. Are you coming to Dustin's tonight?"

"What for?"

"He is having a BBQ."

"No, I had no idea."

"Oh, YN was supposed to tell everyone." Brandi said with a confused look on her face.

"I guess she just forgot about me."

"That is hard to believe."

"Why you say that?"

"I shouldn't say anything, but she likes you."

"Of course she does Brandi. We are friends."

"No." Brandi sighed. "She likes you a lot. YN told me she doesn't think she has a shot with you but she doesn't see what I have seen over the years."

All I heard was that YN likes me. Well this changes everything.

Part 2 (18+)

Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @wwenhlimagines @hungmanhorsecarriagge @anaeve @crowleysqueenofhell @thenerdybaker523 @eddie-kingstons-wifey @cuzimacomedian @wardlow @ecarroll1978

#aew #all elite wrestling #reader imagine #female reader #reader insert #wardlow imagine #wardlow #wardlow x reader #mike wardlow #michael wardlow #wardlow fic #wardlow fanfic #wardlow x female reader #wardlow x you #wardlow x oc

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writerpeach · 3 years

Text

Lights & Cameras

Jeon Somi x Male Reader

5575 words

Categories: smut, daddy kink, rough sex, dirty talk

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

masterlist

Three hours. Endless outfit changes. Barely an hour for lunch.

Jeon Somi had done photo shoots before, both as part of a group and as a soloist, for commercials and for album covers, but she had never had the focus be on her just like this. Her beautiful face was going to be on the cover of a magazine for the very first time for the entire country to see.

It took countless people to make a magazine shoot run smoothly. Stylists, photographers, directors, makeup artists, interns, and a plethora of untold staff members whose titles were unbeknownst to you.

Somi’s first magazine shoot was exciting. If she was nervous, she hid it well, radiating confidence behind the camera as hundreds of flashes went off every second.

You had lost track of how many times you saw Somi disappearing from the set into her personal dressing room, reemerging in an outfit that either tantalized or confused you. Each ensemble brought out several emotions and at least one change that left you scratching your head.

Fashion never made sense.

There wasn’t a moment behind the cameras that Somi wasn’t swarmed by staff - fixing her hair, touching up makeup, and preparing her for the next set of blinding lights. Somi basked in it all, she loved the attention and loved every moment of being in the spotlight.

You weren’t hired by anyone, yet had one of the most important jobs in the building.

Your job was just to be there. You were a familiar face to the gorgeous young model, keeping the couch warm in the first-story studio where you could be seen at all times when Somi felt a pit in her stomach from being overwhelmed.

One look into your eyes across the distance brought a bright smile to Somi’s lipstick painted lips, one that melted you like a hot summer’s day.

Another outfit change. One more shade of lipstick applied to her lips, her cheeks now a shade of pink instead of red. The fumes of hairspray lingered in the air as her dark big brim hat was swapped out by a simple white ball cap and blue sunglasses.

Truth be told, Somi could make any outfit look good. Whether it be tall high heels that almost made her trip, short skirts that showed off her amazing legs, or puffy coats that she looked adorable in, anything and everything looked great on Somi. You’re pretty sure she could make an astronaut’s spacesuit look sexy.

Somi loved dressing up, wearing expensive clothes and outfits she only dreamed about, each time she was presented with something new feeling giddier than a kid in a candy store.

This outfit you particularly liked on Somi, a rather long green dress that almost touched the ground, perfect for summertime. At first glimpse it seemed to cover her up, the sacrifice worth it as it did a terrific job of hugging her body nicely, leaving her shoulders bare and just a tease of her exposed back.

The best part of her fancy dress was how good her tits looked in it. Her wide hips were plainly visible, curves everywhere and outlining her delicious backside, the perfect woman.

Four hours in, Somi's energy level was just as high as at the start. Perhaps it was your company, or the high of her first solo photo shoot that kept her spirits lifted, filling her tank to get her through the rest of the day.

Bright lights went off again as Somi rotated through a myriad of poses, from sensual, to serious, to downright goofy, conveying a multitude of expressions that seemed to please the director.

Somi was a natural, the camera was in love with her and the feeling was mutual. You couldn’t hear her cute voice over the constant shutter sounds of the camera drowning out her playful laughter, but you knew she was having the time of her life.

Sitting there for hours at a time might have been dull as a spectator, but not so much as you loved watching Somi in different outfits and different styles of makeup. She stepped back into the dazzling lights appearing as an almost completely different person.

The brightly lit set became flooded with staff again. Somi was handed a bottle of water to her left, while on her right someone wiped her brow carefully with a white towel, heading out of view as if that were their only job.

“Thirty minute break!”

An echoing voice from the director rattled the walls as a much needed break was called. Somi was filled to the brim with unlimited energy as she headed to catering and you followed in her footsteps.

The catering table was surrounded in no time flat, trays of pastries and sweets spread out, an assortment of fruits and cheeses, sandwiches and skewered meats all made up a fantastic spread.

“Oh my god, I’m starving,” Somi said as she picked up a plate, stuffing it as high as she could, not even bothering to take a seat as she stuffed her face, forgoing the image she was portraying as a model as soon as she took her first bite.

“What do you think so far?” Somi asked as she found you, mumbling her words as she talked with her mouth full as she approached your position.

“You must be bored out of your mind.”

You shook your head and smiled. “I don’t mind. You look cute wearing all these outfits.”

“Which one was your favorite?” she asked, practically inhaling a bite of strawberry cheesecake.

“I liked the pink dress. And the white top with the jeans. This dress looks really nice on you too,” you said, trying your best not to stare at her chest while dozens of eyes were on you.

“I like it too. It’s light and comfortable and I can move around in it freely. Some of those other dresses I could barely walk in,” she said, annoyed.

Somi waited for a handful of staff members to pass by, exchanging polite bows and smiling as they headed off with equally filled plates.

“I want you to take it off me,” she whispered, flashing a mischievous smile, one that had you seen before.

“You want me to help you change?”

Somi shook her head cutely, keeping her lips pressed close enough to your ear that you could feel her hot breath nuzzling your earlobe.

“I want you to fuck me in this dress, daddy.”

Thankfully nobody was in earshot.

“It’s going to be several more hours before I’m finished shooting. There’s a spare dressing room in the back that nobody is using...” she playfully said, her expression the same as when she tried to convince you her vibrator was a neck massager.

“You’re bad, Somi,” you said, her gaze agreeing with you as you stared into each other’s eyes as if you were wondering what you were about to get into.

You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Lead the way. I’ll stay a few steps behind you.”

Somi nodded gleefully, putting her half finished food down on the nearest table.

“I’ll uh, be back. I think something I ate didn’t agree with me,” she announced, letting the staff know she wasn’t going to be available for the time being.

If your calculations were correct the break was called about ten minutes ago, leaving you with twenty minutes left, yet also Somi leaving herself an excuse if extra time was needed.

But twenty minutes was more than enough time for what you wanted to do to her.

You carefully followed Somi, taking care to leave additional space in trailing her as you weaved through makeup tables and desks full of equipment, disappearing behind the set as your heart raced at what was about to happen.

“Come on,” she said, waving you down a long dark corridor and looking behind her as she took purposeful steps. Shortly after, she opened a door and stepped inside, ushering you in as the two of you looked around, making sure the coast was clear before entering.

Somi entered first, locking the door behind you as her lips smirked. She placed her hat and sunglasses on a nearby countertop, ruffling her hair messily.

“You’re so naughty, Somi.”

“Am I? What are you going to do with me?” she asked, putting her arms behind her back.

Stepping closer, you moved her hair out of her neck, planting your lips on her soft skin and sucked for several seconds, careful not to leave a mark. You took each of her dress straps in your fingertips, playing with them as you looked deeply into her eyes.

She stared back as if to say do it as you pulled the top of her dress down to her waist in one swift movement, exposing her full supple breasts as they bounced freely. You kissed up her stomach, marking her soft skin with your mouth until you reached her large heavy breasts, practically drooling all over her chest.

It was regretful that you couldn’t spend the entire hour worshipping her perfect tits, lips closing around a sensitive nipple that had already hardened as you latched on, sucking gently while you squeezed her free breast.

“F-fuck, daddy,” Somi moaned, as you took your time in sucking her tits, enjoying the sounds of satisfaction she released as your lips wrapped around each of her nipples, covering them in your saliva.

You loved Somi’s huge breasts as much as you loved breathing, the threat of a deadline hovering over her almost didn’t deter as you devoured her breasts.

Your pants tightened as you alternated breasts, slurping loudly and slicking up her stiff pink nipples with your tongue, leaving them swollen and doused in drool as you gave equal attention.

“I wish I could suck these all day,” you said, giving a disappointed look as you kept your focus on her beautiful tits, squeezing and kneading them, never wanting to leave your hands from them.

“I want you to do just more than suck them, daddy,” Somi said, moaning at your touch. You simply couldn’t get enough of her delicious tits, biting her swollen nipples as she whined and threw her head back.

Somi’s attention shifted to the bulge in your pants, and without another word she lowered to her knees and began to undo your pants. Her needy hands cupped your crotch, giving a firm squeeze.

She looked up for a second before she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your thin boxers, yanking them down with power and unleashing your stiff erection as her eyes widened, her lips smiling hungrily.

Her gaze never broke as she rubbed your leaking tip on her stiff nipples, spreading precum on and using your shaft to slap her large breasts with your cock. Somi loved getting your hungry shaft ready for what she was about to do, but no amount of work would ever truly prepare you for what was next.

Somi opened her mouth without a word, spitting on your shaft several times and stroked your cock furiously, lubricating you nicely with her own saliva. She took control of your shaft, placing it in the comfort of her pillowy soft breasts, trapping it as you moaned at the warmth enveloping your hard shaft.

Her chest began moving slowly, massaging your throbbing shaft and causing a torrent of pleasure as she created orgasmic friction, causing your shaft to twitch. Your cock had no chance to escape, surrounded by flesh that wrapped around it, causing your breath to be taken away as several sensations flooded your body.

Somi had the biggest grin on her face as she squeezed her tits around your cock firmly, using her hands to cup them and make sure you weren’t going anywhere besides her abundant cleavage.

“How does it feel daddy? You love fucking my big tits, don’t you?” she pointlessly asked, picking up the pace just enough to drive you wild with intoxicating pleasure. Your eyes were glued to her huge tits, watching your cock disappearing, every inch of throbbing flesh being swallowed up by her lubricated cleavage.

“Fuck yes, baby. It feels so damn good,” you replied, matching her rhythm and helping pump your shaft in between her tits, so much warm flesh hugging you tight that never wanted to let you go.

You couldn’t help but moan freely at the intense pleasure. You loved the way your leaking cock felt snuggled in between her cleavage, you wanted it to stay there forever. Her breasts felt so soft, softer than silk as you thrusted endlessly, savoring every moment of ecstasy.

Somi loved the feeling of your hard cock trapped between her sizable tits just as much as you did, trying to lick the sensitive head of your cock when it showed itself again, adding additional spikes of pleasure each time she succeeded.

You were more than content to keep this up, keep the incredible pleasure going until you couldn’t take anymore, but things were just getting started.

“Daddy…” Somi whined, moving her breasts up and down as you thrusted in her deep suffocating cleavage.

“What is it, baby?”

“I want to suck your cock. I’m still hungry,” she said, anxiously waiting for permission.

“So suck my cock.”

Somi gave an ear to ear grin as you pumped yourself in between her chest a handful more times as she slowly let your cock slip out of her tits, rubbing it between her wet cleavage. Her delicate small hand wrapped around your shaft, throbbing at her touch as she stroked your cock up and down gently from base to tip.

"You're so hard, daddy,” Somi hummed, pumping your shaft and squeezing it tighter as you leaked over her slender fingers, giving your shaft a single solitary lick from base to tip, proudly tasting your precum.

“So yummy,” she said, giving repeated licks of your cock, teasing the sensitive underside of your shaft, causing more fluids to leak out of your slit.

You would have loved Somi to spend more time teasing your cock, but time was of the essence here. She planted a soft wet kiss on your swollen tip, followed by another, kissing up and down your throbbing shaft and leaving her lips everywhere she could.

“This is much better than our catering,” Somi giggled, her voice full of desire and need, her wet tongue roaming every inch of your shaft. She pressed her lips on your flesh for one more deep kiss, causing a loud smacking sound to escape.

Her beautiful lips parted as the head of your cock disappeared inside her mouth, Somi sucking ever so softly on your tip and nothing more, causing you to groan softly at the intense sudden pleasure.

“Fuck, baby…”

Nothing ever matched the way Somi sucked your cock. Her small soft lips wrapped tightly around your cock, staring intently at you as her cheeks hollowed, applying the perfect amount of suction. Her mouth felt incredible, warm and wet in all the right ways. She took you deeper into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down in a short rhythm and as she held her gaze.

“Oh fuck, that feels so good,” you moaned, scrambling for something to anchor yourself to. Thankfully you were inches away from the nearest countertop, finding the edge and gripping it tightly as Somi pleasured your cock expertly.

“I love sucking your cock so much, daddy,” Somi said as she lowered her head, nudging her nose against the base of your cock as she gave a few teasing licks on your tender balls.

“I love the way I can feel it throbbing inside my mouth. I love the way it tastes, it makes me so fucking wet, daddy.”

Somi’s filthy words aroused you even more as she dove her mouth onto your sensitive balls, tenderly sucking on them individually with just as much hunger. She kept a tight grip on your cock, giving slow strokes that accentuated your pleasure until your balls were doused in her warm saliva.

The combination of pleasure made you groan endlessly as she withdrew her lips from your balls after a few loud slurps, carefully fondling them.

“They feel so full. Is all this cum for me, daddy?” she asked, returning her focus to pleasuring your shaft, spitting on it several times and stroking it.

“Every last drop. They’re ready to be drained, baby.”

“I can’t wait, I want a nice big load inside me, daddy.”

Somi gave an approving smile, taking you back in the comfort of her wet mouth and sucking you off loud and wetly, lips almost to the very base of your shaft and leaving a glistening trail of saliva that followed.

Given the circumstances Somi wasn’t able to take her time with much regret. In a matter of moments she was furiously bobbing her head and taking every inch, letting out a shallow gag with every few strokes. She never quite conquered her gag reflex but didn’t seem bothered, she was just happy with every second her throat was filled.

Somi poured all her energy into giving you such a mind-numbing blowjob, moving her lips from tip to base, spilling saliva out of her mouth, covering your shaft in it. Her lips rested at the end of your shaft as her cute nose pressed against your stomach, smiling with a mouth full of a cock.

She came up for air, saliva dripping down her chin that she didn’t bother to wipe, her expression lust-filled.

“Fuck my face if you want,” she invited, taking your shaft and smacking herself in the face with it, rubbing it on her cheeks and lustfully grinning.

“I’d hate to ruin your makeup,” you replied, the one and only time you had that concern. Somi’s expression was full of disappointment, her smile fading and forming a pout.

“That’s the point,” she said, matter-of-factly. “My makeup artist can fix it later. She gets paid too fucking much anyways.”

Well, that settled that. Somi went back to slobbering on your cock as you placed your hands on both sides of her head, running your fingers through strands of hair and started thrusting inside her pretty mouth.

Consequences be damned, you were going to fulfill Somi’s wishes and desires, thrusting your hips back and forth and sliding every inch of your shaft down her tight warm throat.

Satisfied grunts and moans escaped your lips as you used Somi’s mouth for your pleasure, gagging her with your length as you struck the back of her throat to the point of tears from your forceful use, only encouraging you to give harsher thrusts.

“If only everyone knew what I was doing to you,” you said as Somi kept her mouth wide open for you as you furiously fucked her gorgeous face, slapping your full balls against her chin as she held onto your thighs and slurped hungrily.

“I bet that director had no idea what a cock-hungry little slut he hired did he?” you said, using Somi’s mouth as your personal toy, the constant sounds of gags and erotic slurps filling the small room as your pleasure sky-rocketed.

“Or your stylist unnie, she has no idea her cute innocent model loves choking on cock does she?”

Somi hummed around your cock in satisfaction, the vibration spiking your pleasure as you forced your cock down her throat, streaks of mascara starting to run and drip down her face.

Her makeup artist would certainly have her work cut out for her.

That wasn’t enough for you as you thrusted harder down her throat, slamming every inch nonstop without mercy, drool spilling out of her mouth and dripping onto her beautiful exposed tits as she choked and gagged on your needy cock.

“Take it all, baby,” you growled, holding the back of her head firmly against your crotch, not

caring if she could breathe or not. You desperately wanted to fill her messy warm mouth with cum, coating the back of her throat with it, but that dress looked so fucking sexy on her and you had other plans.

Instead, you savored the intoxicating warmth of her mouth for a few more thrusts, slowly withdrawing your drool-covered shaft as several lines of messy wet spit ejected from her lips, connecting to your swollen tip.

Somi gasped for air, rubbing her drool-covered face all over your wet shaft as she got the treatment she deserved, gargling the leftover saliva and spitting it onto your already drenched shaft.

You smirked at what you saw, once perfectly brushed hair was disheveled and out of place. Her eyes were still filled with tears, whatever leftover mascara she had staining her cheeks, drool glistening on her chin and her chest, an absolutely beautiful mess.

If only her staff could see her like this.

“Was I a good little slut, daddy?”

You nodded proudly and grabbed her dainty wrists and gently helped her to her feet, sharing intense eye contact as you kept the anticipation in the air high.

“I want to fucking ruin you,” you said, squeezing her breasts again, the drool coated on them making them glistening in the lights.

“Do it, please. Fuck me like the whore I am, daddy,” Somi begged, flashing the deepest set of fuck me eyes you had ever seen. You had gotten this far without getting caught, there was no reason to stop.

The dressing room was small with just two countertops, mirrors resting on top of each one waist high, used beauty products still scattered on both surfaces.

There weren’t that many options, no chairs in sight and the floor looked dirty and unkempt as it most likely hadn’t been touched in months if not longer. The counters provided ample space, but not enough for what you needed.

Somi looked at her designer watch she still had kept left on, and you saw you had ten minutes left before they would be looking for her. Plenty of time.

“How do you want it, baby?” you asked as you hiked her green dress up, surprised to see she had on a dark pair of blue panties for once.

“I don’t care, daddy, as long as you’re rough with me,” she said, biting her lip. You couldn’t help but smirk, roaming her tight body with her hands as you gripped her wide hips, harshly spinning her around as she gasped in delight.

“P-please, daddy. I need you. I need to be fucked so bad,” she pleaded, her eyes wide and bright. You kissed her bare shoulders, planting your lips behind her neck and whispered into her ear.

“I want you to watch me ravaging your pretty little cunt, baby.”

Somi dripped between her thighs and her muscles tensed up as you slid her skimpy thong to the side, exposing her gorgeous pussy to you, pink flesh dripping with arousal.

“O-of course, daddy,” Somi said, bending over the makeup countertop, sticking her plump round ass out and placing her palms flat on the surface, ready and willing to be taken right there.

Had there not been time restraints placed, you would have loved to make her beg and tease her pussy until she was as needy as could be, but unfortunately that wasn’t an option right now.

You spread her long legs, grabbing your throbbing shaft and rubbing her aching sensitive clit, pressing it against Somi’s hot wet flesh as she looked back, eyes full of desire.

“Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me like a whore.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second and pushed yourself in deep, her warmth suffocating you as you sank inside every inch of hot flesh, her cunt clenching hard as she moaned loudly. You didn’t waste time, thrusting immediately without any build-up, harshly gripping her hips as you began fucking her tight body from behind.

“Oh my god, daddy,” Somi moaned, her erotic expression visible in the mirror. Your rhythm was frantic from the very start, pistoning your hips and smacking them against her beautiful ass, causing her cheeks to ripple with every stroke.

“Such a tight little whore aren’t you? You like your pretty pussy stretched like this, baby?”

“Y-yes, daddy! You’re so fucking big, pound me daddy, pound me with your big fucking cock.”

“I’d fucking love to,” you replied, grabbing a rough handful of hair and wrapping your fingers around it, forming a ponytail and yanking back hard on it, tugging her head back. Her pussy clenched as she looked directly into the mirror, her eyes barely able to keep open as her mouth let out nothing but needy moans.

“Watch yourself, baby. Watch what I’m going to do to my pretty little cumslut.”

“Y-yes, daddy. R-ruin my pussy, please. Fuck my tight little hole until you blow your load in it!”

Somi’s filthy mouth only served to bring out your carnal desires, increasing your pace rapidly as you slammed her body against the counter, causing her back to arch perfectly as she screamed in delight. You really hoped the dressing room was far enough away from the rest of the staff to not be heard, but at this point you didn’t give a shit if they were listening right outside the door.

“F-fuck me harder daddy, p-please fuck me like the naughty whore I am!”

Your strong grip tightened on her hips, firmly pressing both thumbs into her toned back hard enough that you’re pretty sure was going to leave a bruising mark, one of the myriad of things Somi was going to have to figure out how to explain.

“Treat me like your pretty little fucktoy and break me!”

You watched intently in the mirror in front of you as Somi’s expressive features grew more contorted by the second, her lips only able to form breathless whiny moans and several strings of profanity.

Her pussy tightened to the point of almost causing pain, your shaft being lubricated thoroughly by her abundant slick that dripped down her thighs as you gave it your all, watching her breasts bouncing in the mirror in a way that hypnotized you into a trance.

“Choke me, daddy. Please, fucking choke your whore,” Somi said, as you seemed to be taken aback by every new sentence that left her lips.

You didn’t know what had gotten into her, but you didn’t have time to care as you dropped the bundle of hair you had, bringing the same hand to the front of her body, fondling one of her breasts before finding her warm, soft neck and wrapping your fingers around her throat and giving a gentle squeeze.

“More,” she demanded, and placed her small hand on the back of your own, increasing the pressure as she felt more airflow being restricted, thriving off the feeling she felt.

Somi’s dripping hot pussy pulsated wildly as you pumped into her, keeping a hand on her delicate throat as you looked at the sight in the mirror, something you’d never forget. Her chosen dress barely still on, mascara stains still visible underneath her eyes, her breasts bouncing deliciously with every rock of your hips as you choked her.

Somi kept her eyes focused straight ahead and loved every second of it.

It was hard to remember where you were, that this was still a designated break for Somi and that she would still have to return to work in a few short moments. Yet, you continued to pound into her tight cunt, giving such powerful hard thrusts she was liable to forget her own name.

“God, you’re so fucking deep inside my tight little pussy. Don’t stop fucking me, daddy, use me until you’re done with me!” Somi said, her words becoming an unrecognizable slur that all ran together.

Her warm wet walls grew wetter the harder you drilled her as the room became an orchestra of pleasure - the wet squelch of her pussy, harsh sounds of flesh smacking against flesh, and the constant rising volume of her loud needy moans and gasps, every second that went by without a knock on the door caused a sense of relief.

That satisfying smack of flesh grew louder and louder as you released your grip on her throat. earning a whimpering moan. Your hands weren’t kept idle as you grabbed Somi’s arms and pulled them back, gripping her wrists as her back arched even more, hammering into her pussy with as much energy as you could exert.

“Oh f-fuck, daddy! D-don’t stop, don’t stop fucking your slutty little whore!” Somi said, her clouded eyes barely able to watch herself in the mirror as you saw her vacant stare. You used her slender arms as handles to fuck her senseless, feeling her gripping pussy squeezing the life out of your cock as it pulsated wildly as the stale air in the small tight room grew hotter.

“I’m going t-to cum, daddy! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, daddy-”

Somi didn’t even have time to finish her sentence, her body already trembling, her held back arms shaking as her pussy tightened even more. Her hips bucked, toes curling into her expensive heels as she shrieked, juices flooding out of her cunt as she came the hardest she had in some time.

You didn’t let up, not that she would have wanted you to as you fucked her through her intense orgasm, pounding away and maintaining the same breakneck pace, harsh stroke after harsh stroke into her heat.

Somi's constantly clenching pussy sent tingles up your spine, and you weren't that far off from your own release if the aching tightness in your balls was anything to go by.

"I'm gonna fucking fill your needy cunt with cum, baby," you hissed, not asking for permission, hooking her arms and bringing her body upright until her back was pressing against your chest, making sure she wasn't going anywhere.

"P-please cum inside me, daddy. Cum inside your filthy little whore! Please, daddy, dump your huge thick load inside my slutty wet pussy, please!"

You loved using Somi like this, her pussy begging for cum as you railed her without mercy, the use of her arms taken from her and nothing to hold on to and at your mercy, taking every thrust into her body and pleading for more. You watched her lustful expression in the mirror as her breasts never stopped bouncing, chasing that sweet release you both desperately wanted.

It wouldn't be much longer now, your hips smacking harshly against her ass as her cunt was fucked so hard she would definitely have trouble not only walking out of her but for the next few days. Savoring every thrust into Somi’s tight warm body, you never let up, keeping the pace as fast your limbs allowed you to move until you finally were pushed over the edge.

“I’m fucking cumming!”

It took less than a handful of thrusts as you buried yourself in Somi’s wet warmth, groaning loudly as you spilled your seed deep into her cunt, throbbing with each shot of hot cum that you emptied into her inviting body, filling her to the absolute brim.

You used the last remaining energy in your body, hips tiredly working until you had no more to deposit in her. Thoroughly drained you never stopped thrusting, trying to fuck your hot deep as it possibly could go, spilling every drop into her womb.

Your moments slowed down little by little until they halted completely as you released her arms as she collapsed against the counter, both of you spent, filled with fatigue and gasping for air, an equally exhausted mess of bodies.

You rested inside her for one final moment, wanting to savor her smothering warmth for as long as possible as you gave her ass a quick smack and slowly pulled out, a flowing stream of thick semen dripping out of her roughly used pussy, staining her beautiful thighs.

“H-holy shit, d-daddy, you fucked me so well,” she said, her words trembling as you slid her thong back in place and pulled her dress down as she turned around to face you.”

“You asked me to.”

“I’m going to be so sore,” Somi smiled as she leaned in and kissed your lips, her bare breasts pressing against your chest.

Your breathing resumed gradually as you wiped the sweat off your brow. You wanted to say something but were rudely interrupted by a voice from the intercom.

“Jeon Somi to the set please!”

The two of you frowned as Somi took one more step, lips locking on to yours deeply, gasping for air as they withdrew.

“You really made me a mess, daddy,” she said proudly, as she pulled her top back up, trying to fix her hair as best as she could.

“I better get cleaned up. Fuck me again after I finish up?”

“Of course, baby.”

She kissed you on the cheek as she made her exit, walking gingerly and taking slow, tired steps out of the room.

You felt a little guilty that her staff would have to put in so much extra work, but that was their problem not yours. The fact that your load would be dripping out of her for the rest of the photo shoot, just the thought putting a smirk on your face.

You pulled your pants back up, stopping by the nearest bathroom to try and fix your hair, freshening yourself up before heading back.

Somi had a lot of explaining to do.

#somi smut #kpop smut #somi #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader

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angelicyoongie · 4 years

Text

the crimson shell (llll)

— pairing: jungkook x f!reader — genre: mermaid au, yandere au — w.c: 4.6k — warnings: explicit sexual content! heavy dub-con touching/intercourse, forced breeding, oviposition, mentions of death/violence, general yandere themes — notes: ah, here we finally are, the last part/finale to the story! please keep the warnings in mind, and don’t read this chapter if you’re uncomfortable with anything stated above!

Part I / II / III / IIII

You’re not sure how long you’ve been here. After the second week of just blankly staring at the never changing cave walls surrounding you, you figured there was no point in keeping track of it. What good does it do you anyway? It’s not like counting the days will miraculously get you out of here. While you might not know the number, you do know that it’s been far too many. Your skin has grown pale and gaunt from the lack of sunshine and warmth you’re so used to, and the diet of raw fish hasn’t exactly been very kind to you. The cave is tall enough for you to stand up in comfortably, so at least your circulation isn’t completely shot, but you honestly lack the energy to stay on your feet for too long. Escaping, even just back up to the island, is your only chance at survival. You don’t think you’re going to last very long down here. It’s already gotten to the point where you’ve begun looking forward to Jungkook’s short daily visits, even just the sight of something almost human enough to keep you sane.

You let out a heavy sigh, the noise echoing around the cave as you lean back against the stone wall. Over the last couple of days, the creature has begun to bring you little treasures alongside with your food. You’re not exactly sure why, but it’s nice to have something to do – even if it’s just tracing the patterns on the lockets and pendants over and over. You run your fingers over the small pile of golden jewelry by your side, trying your best to keep your thoughts away from the people it must have belonged to. Jimin might have managed to get away, but you doubt the rest of them did. Two of the pendants in your pile belonged to the crew Jimin brought with him, and you suspect that if you give Jungkook a few more days, he’ll bring you the remaining three. As if you summoned him with your straying thoughts, a small splash in the water alerts you of the creature’s arrival. You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook hoisting himself up on the ledge, another fish and a new pendant dropped at your feet. You silently scoot closer to the edge, offering up your hand to the creature’s expectant red eyes. Jungkook nuzzles into your hand with a happy thrill, rubbing his cheek along your palm. You suppress a shudder at the sound, ignoring the soft skin underneath your fingertips as you stare at the headless fish at your feet. Sometimes you wish you could share the same fate as your food.

You let Jungkook cuddle your hand for as long as he wants, knowing that denying him will only make things worse for yourself. If you look past the sharp claws and teeth, Jungkook is hardly anything more than an oversized puppy. He seems to crave constant affection and confirmation that he’s done good when he brings you food or treasures. You think you might would have found it sweet if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s keeping you trapped here – and that he’s a monster. There’s nothing sweet or innocent about the creature in front of you. You let out a small breath of relief as Jungkook drops your hand, but he doesn’t immediately sink back down in the water as he normally does. You watch in confusion as he pushes the fish closer, the gold chain around it rattling as it drags against the stone. You hesitantly pick it up, praying that Jungkook isn’t going to stay here and watch you eat it. The raw fish already makes you nauseous, and there’s no way you’ll be able to stomach eating it with an audience. Especially one that likes to punish you when you do something he doesn’t like. Call you crazy, but you don’t think gagging at the food he brings you will make him very happy.

You slowly unwrap the chain, putting the fish back down to turn over the locket in your hands. You suck in a harsh breath at the familiar design at the front, the intricate carved flowers making bile rise in your throat. You had this made for Jimin years ago, back when you were still best friends. You two stayed friendly even after you started drifting apart, but you figured he would’ve gotten rid of the locket by now. You can’t believe he kept it all this time. That he still wore it. Your hands shake as you gently pull on the clasp on the side, a strained sound leaving your lips as you flip it open. A picture of you and Jimin smiles back at you, your faces bright and carefree. Jimin has an arm slung around your shoulders, his eyes closed into little crescent moons from how hard he’s grinning at the camera. The pure happiness in the photo makes your heart clench. Despite knowing Jimin was the one who lead you here, you find yourself desperately missing him for a split second before you can catch yourself. God, maybe if you accepted that marriage proposal from the baker’s sleazy son last year you would’ve at least been safe. Home.

You’re yanked out of your thoughts as Jungkook tugs you closer to the ledge, a clawed hand quickly snatching the locket out of your grasp. He lets out a series of chirping noises as his red eyes drag from the locket to you, and Jungkook taps your smiling face in the photo before he does the same to your leg. You stare in bewilderment as the creature drops the locket back in your hands, his lips stretched into a nightmarish version of a smile before he lowers himself down in the water. You swear your heart stops the moment you see the rows of teeth lining his mouth, and it refuses to work again until Jungkook is fully submerged and swimming away. You hastily scoot back from the edge, the locket clutched tightly in your hand. A bitter smile graces your lips as it dawns on you that you’ve figured out how Jimin traded your life for his. The picture. While you can’t be sure of exactly how he managed to communicate with Jungkook, you’re sure that being stranded here for six months must’ve been more than enough time to figure out a way to converse without using actual words. With Jimin as living proof in front of him, the creature must’ve understood that it meant that you were real too. And that if he had managed to get Jimin, then there would be a way to get to you. It was probably easier for Jimin to trade your life for his when he had something tangible to show Jungkook, when he had proof in his hands that you were out there too. A part of you hopes that maybe Jimin tried to convince Jungkook to change his mind, to take someone else instead, but you have a feeling that even if he did, the creature wouldn’t have budged. From the time you’ve spent on the island it has become very clear that Jungkook is stubborn and used to getting what he wants – but you suppose that’s only natural for a creature like him. How can something tell you no when it has already been eaten?

Of course, Jimin had no way to be sure that you would set sail for Jungkook’s island. But, while there was no guarantee you would risk travelling that far, your old friend knew how desperate you were for money, and the lengths you were willing to go to keep your family afloat. You suppose he knew how easy it would be to trick you as long as there was a bit of gold involved, and Jimin was dripping in it when he came back. You just hope he at least had the decency to spare your family a gold ring or two after you left, considering he sacrificed you to go free. You toss the locket aside, not really caring where it ends up as long as it’s far away from you. You force yourself to take a few deep breaths, trying your best to quell the anger burning through your veins. Being mad at Jimin won’t do you any good while you’re stuck down here, so you allow yourself to whisper out a string of curses at the man before you lock away the heavy feeling of betrayal deep into your chest. Seeing Jimin’s smiling face has reignited your dwindling spirit, and you decide that you will get out of here, even if it is just to hunt Jimin down.

The next time Jungkook comes back to visit you, there are no more treasures. Instead, your eyes widen in surprise as the creature gently places a familiar shell and pearl down by your feet, next to your twitching meal. You’re certain you left them near your bonfire higher up on the beach, but judging by the scratches and roughed up skin on Jungkook’s arms, it seems like the creature probably dragged himself all the way up there to get them. You feel your throat run dry at the thought, at the fact that you weren’t even as safe on land as you had first believed. If Jungkook was willing to bring himself up on land to get them, then you’re sure they must mean something important. It can’t be a coincidence that both the shell and the pearl have the same deep red colour as Jungkook’s tail and eyes, and come to think of it, didn’t your luck begin to turn after you picked up it that evening before you left?

Jungkook lets out a chirp as you pick up the shell, the creature leaning forward to rub his head against the back of your occupied hand. You eye him warily as your mind races through what has happened ever since you left home. You really, truly, hope that you’re wrong, but based on how everything started after you picked up the shell and how the creature acts – how he provides for you, how offended he acts when you push him away and how affectionate he is, you fear you might have accidentally accepted a courting offer. You’ve seen similar patterns in animals before, and while you’re not entirely sure what Jungkook really is, you think it’s safe to assume that the same thing might apply for him too. What you can’t really wrap your mind around is why he waited so long. It took weeks before you left after Jimin returned, and you were down by the beach every night. The unexplainable fear you felt was probably something deep inside of you that recognized that you were being watched by a predator – by him – but you didn’t know enough to connect the dots. Jungkook had many chances to grab you, but he didn’t. Not until you accepted his shell. Convenience maybe? That this whole trade was easier if he made you come to him? Or maybe some weird kind of custom his kind has? He is half human, after all. But you can’t be sure. If anything, Jimin could’ve at least had the decency to teach you how to converse with him if he was going to throw you to the sharks, or rather, Jungkook. Either way, you’re sure Jungkook would’ve eventually found a way to get to you even if you didn’t leave on that boat.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when the feeling of soft skin leaves the back of your hand. The clicks falling from Jungkook’s lips are uncharacteristically soft as he pulls himself up on the ledge, those deep red eyes trained on yours as he tugs you closer. It only takes one hard yank before you find yourself caged in underneath Jungkook’s arms again, legs on either side of his waist. Your pulse quickens as you’re reminded of what happened the last time – you’re not exactly eager to pass out again from being smothered by his weight.

You feel like you shouldn’t be surprised that Jungkook manages to carry his entire weight on one arm, while the other begins to roam across your body. After all, he did drag himself up on land and back, and the part you had on top of you last time was hardly anything. The weight of his entire tail must be extremely heavy out of water. You know the creature doesn’t like it when you don’t pay him attention, so you let your eyes rest on his collarbones, watching as a few drops of water run down his skin. Keeping eye contact is too intimidating, those deep red irises makes it feel like you’re staring right into the depths of hell.

You dig your fingers into your thighs as Jungkook’s hand dips under the torn fabric of your shirt, the unusual texture of the web between his fingers making you squirm uncomfortably as it drags over your skin. You’re very aware of the sharp claws hovering above your delicate stomach as he explores, but at least the creature knows to not let them touch. Jungkook’s hand trails over your sides, your stomach, all the way up to the underside of your breasts. You swallow thickly as a knuckle brushes against the soft flesh, Jungkook’s motion suddenly stilling at the contact. You’ve always managed to push him off before he’s gone any further, but you can feel the shift in the creature’s mood today. You know he’s not going to take no for an answer. But, that still didn’t prepare you for the sudden gush of wind brushing across your exposed chest, your shirt split clean in two with the help of Jungkook’s claws. Before you can scramble to cover up, Jungkook lets out an excited chirp, his hand quickly moving back to your chest. Your mind goes blank as he places his palm over one of your breasts, experimentally squeezing and massaging it as he watches you curiously. You grit your teeth as Jungkook plays with it, ignoring the little tingle of heat in your stomach whenever he does something your traitorous body likes.

You try to convince yourself that Jungkook is probably just excited to see parts of a human body he hasn’t seen before, that he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. Your breath hitches as the webbed texture between Jungkook’s fingers glide over your nipples, a soft moan falling from your lips before you can stop yourself. The noise only seems to spur him on more, Jungkook repeating the motion to hear the sound again. A harsh squeeze on your breast forces out another moan, your hands flying to Jungkook’s chest. Your fingers twitch against his skin, your head telling you to push him away, while the building heat in your stomach and the growing wetness between your legs wants him close to finish what he’s started. You settle for digging your hands into his skin, grounding yourself in his body, knowing that pushing him away won’t do you any good. Jungkook lets out a happy thrill at your touch, lowering himself closer to your body as his hand moves from one breast to the other. You can feel his eyes burning into your skin, your body growing warmer and warmer under his intense gaze. There’s too many sensations at once – cold water dripping against your overheating skin, Jungkook’s long hair tickling your face, the soft and rough skin of his hand squeezing and moving across your flesh. Your eyes glide shut before you can stop yourself, forgetting your own rule of never letting Jungkook out of your sight. It’s just .. too much. Your body doesn’t know whether to hate the attention or love it, your chest tight with disgust while your stomach swirls with pleasure. At least with your eyes shut, and as long as your hands stay on his chest, he feels human. Human enough to make this whole thing a little less horrible.

Your legs tense as you feel more of Jungkook’s weight against your body, his hips pressing down more firmly against yours. You don’t pay it too much attention at first, too occupied by the hand on your chest. At least, that’s until you feel his hips begin to slowly move back and fourth, grinding against your clothed core. Your eyes fly open at the sudden friction, head spinning as your walls clench with need. You’re sure the flimsy material of your trousers must be soaked by now, and the realization that this creature is the reason behind it makes your cheeks flush red with mortification. You stifle a gasp as Jungkook pinches your sensitive nipple between two fingers, another happy thrill filling the cave as he rolls his hips harder against your mound. You can feel the heat in your lower stomach building rapidly, the coil almost ready to snap when Jungkook suddenly stills. You push down the needy whine in your throat as Jungkook removes his hand from your body, the creature pulling himself up further on the ledge.

Your confusion dies as your eyes travel down a little further past his hips, the arousal you felt quickly washed away by terror as you notice a slit in his tail, and something extending out of it. You nearly choke on your own spit as it finally clicks, trying your best to scramble out from beneath Jungkook’s hold as his cock becomes fully unsheathed. Jungkook lets out a series of low, warning clicks at your struggle, his clawed fingers digging into your shoulders as his arms keeps you caged you in. You look down in horror as you feel him resume his grinding against your clothed sex. It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before. His cock is slightly tapered at the tip, growing thicker down against the base. What you thought was just some misplaced curiosity is obviously more than that, because now, there’s no doubt in your mind that Jungkook’s plan is to fuck you. You ignore the pain as sharp claws dig into your skin, trying your best to twist out of his hold. Logically you know there’s no place for you to run to down here, and that was probably what he wanted all along. Still, your heart hammers painfully against your chest, urging you to at least try.

You don’t succeed in doing much more than twisting yourself over on your stomach, fingers clawing at the stone in an attempt to pull yourself away. You barely have time to process the hiss leaving Jungkook’s throat before the remaining fabric of your trousers are sliced clean in two, leaving you completely bare. The next roll of his hips sends his cock rubbing over your ass, your body trembling at the wetness that seems to be coating it. The scales on his hips are rough and sharp as they drag over your soft skin, and you don’t doubt they'll feel like tiny little razors if you move against them wrong. You’re still trying to drag yourself away when Jungkook’s arms comes under your body, one wrapping underneath your arm to hold the opposite shoulder, and the other curling around your stomach. The creature lets out another hiss at your squirming, pulling your flush against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, the steady rhythm such a contrast to the wild beat of your own as he once again moves against your body. The new position sends his cock gliding between your legs, the shaft rubbing along your folds and coating it with the same slick fluid you felt on your skin. You dig your fingers into the stone floor, but your body is locked up tight against Jungkook. There’s nowhere for you to go.

Jungkook lets out another warning noise before he rolls his hips forward again, the tapered tip of his cock catching on your entrance. You let out a strangled moan as Jungkook’s cock sinks into your heat, your walls stretching around him as he pushes in deeper. Your arousal from earlier combined with the wetness around the creature’s cock makes the slide painless aside from the uncomfortable burn of being filled too much, too fast. Jungkook’s excited thrill at finally being buried inside your heat rings in your ear from the close proximity, his tongue dipping out to flick across the sheen of sweat at your nape. The creature begins pulling his hips back, not giving you any time to adjust before he snaps them forward. You let out a choked moan as he fills you up again, vision growing hazy as he sets a brutal pace from the get go. You can feel the harsh slap of his hips against your ass with every thrust, Jungkook letting out a pleased hiss as he continues to slam into you. You can feel the tapered length twitching and pulsing inside of you as he moves, more wetness seeping out of his cock to mix with your own. Every thrust leaves you gasping for breath, and the hold Jungkook has around your body feels like you’re wrapped up in steel. You have no choice but to lay there and take it, but as the creature’s cock nudges over your sweet spot repeatedly, you realize to your own horror that you like it.

Lost in a daze of arousal and fear, you don’t even realize the creature has been moving the both of you backwards until you’re suddenly plunged into the cold water. You let out a startled gasp as Jungkook’s length disappears from your heat, and you thread the water forcefully to keep your head above the ripples as you try to figure out where the creature went. You feel his hands before you see him, claws wrapping around your waist as Jungkook pushes you against the ledge. You let out a pained groan as your back collides with the stone, your hands scrambling up to grip the edge of it. You freeze as Jungkook’s head slowly emerges from the water, those deep red eyes looking hungrier and wilder than you’ve ever seen before. It only takes a moment before you feel the creature’s chest pressed against yours, his cock slipping in even easier with the new position. It doesn’t take many thrusts before you’re forced to wrap your legs around his waist to keep yourself afloat, your arms shaking with the effort of keeping your head over water. Your fingers slip a little against the wet stone, your eyes widening as you seem to sink even further down on Jungkook’s cock. You’ve never been so full before, almost delirious as he picks up his pace. Jungkook’s hands are relentless as they glide over your skin, pinching and rubbing every part of your body.

“F-fuck,” You moan as your clit rubs against his tail, the roughness of the scales making a bolt of arousal shoot through your body. You don’t even realize your hips are moving against his as the tightness in your gut grows, the pressure building more and more until it suddenly unravels, waves of pleasure ripping through your body and making you see stars as you come on Jungkook’s cock. The creature lets out something close to a growl as your walls clamp down around him, and he fucks you straight through your orgasm and into oversensitivity with an animalistic pace. You whine as Jungkook’s cock begin to swell, grow, his hands stilling on your hips to pull you flush against him as he comes. He lets out a pleased chirp as the burning hot come floods your insides, a broken moan escaping your lips as Jungkook slows down the harsh pace. It’s done, you think, relieved. He’ll probably leave you alone now. So it confuses you when Jungkook’s eyes slide shut, soft clicks leaving his lips as he pushes you even harder against the stone behind you. He’s still working his hips in and out of your heat, and you realize that even though he just came, his cock is still hard and growing, still stretching your walls.

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you feel something moving up Jungkook’s cock, a firm but soft sphere spurting from the tip and into you. It takes a second for your hazy mind to connect the dots, and you realize a little too late that the creature is laying eggs. Inside of you. Jungkook is breeding you. You desperately try to push against his chest as you feel the second egg travel up his cock, but Jungkook only tugs you closer, tucking his face into the crook of your neck as his chest rumbles. You stifle back a moan as the second egg joins the first, the foreign texture brushing along your sensitive walls. The creature purrs as he released another spurt of eggs, slowly grinding his cock back and fourth as he breeds you. You cling on to the ledge behind you, disgust and pleasure wracking through your body as another egg joins the rest. A deeper click, something almost close to a groan, falls from Jungkook’s lips as he forces the last egg into your tight heat. Your eyes nearly roll back as you feel his cock nudge against your cervix; Jungkook’s slow pace fucking the eggs around inside of you. If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to being stuffed to the brim with Jungkook’s thick cock, eggs and come.

You can feel Jungkook’s breath ghost across your exposed wet skin, the harsh puffs of air sending chills down your back. Your hands finally slip from the ledge, too exhausted to keep you up anymore. Before you can wrap your shaking arms around Jungkook’s shoulders, the creature suddenly detangles you from his body, quickly hoisting you back up on the ledge. You let out shaky moan Jungkook’s cock once again slips from your heat, your body feeling surprisingly empty despite the eggs still resting inside of you.

“Shit,” You hiss as you strain to push yourself up on your elbows, gliding a hand down to your stomach. You can feel them inside of you when you press down, little bumps gliding around under your fingertips. Panic builds under your skin – you have to get them out. There has to be a reason you’ve never heard of creatures like Jungkook before. You doubt you're compatible to carry his eggs, and you don’t even know what will happen once they begin to grow. And even if you were, it’s not like you want them. Just as your hand is about to slip down to your slick folds, Jungkook hoists himself up from the water, once again covering your body. He snatches your hand away with a series of threatening clicks, barring his sharp teeth as he lies down on top of you. You twist your head with a fearful whimper as Jungkook pushes your hand into his hair instead, the weight of his body not totally crushing, but still enough to make you feel lightheaded.

You squeeze down around the eggs without meaning do, bile rising in your throat as they catch on your entrance, too big to push out without any help. Your eyes land on the crimson shell and pearl pushed over to the side of the cave. Your chest feels tight as it dawns on you that while the shell were likely a courting offer; the pearl must’ve been a mating offer. And you had accepted both. Your eyes begin to sting as you feel Jungkook’s chest rumble against yours, the pleased purrs making you feel sick. You hesitantly shift your gaze back to him, curling your fingers painfully tight into the wet locks underneath your palm as you find those deep red eyes already staring back at you. A twisted rendition of a smile blooms on his face, the rows of sharp teeth glistening as he looks down at you. The message in his gaze is clear – you’re keeping the eggs.

And there’s no way he’s letting you go.

a/n: oh boy. hopefully only those of you that were okay with the warnings made it this far. because i know i’ll get questions: jk fertilized his own eggs when he bred y/n, and y/n will basically serve as an incubator (poor girl lmao) for a while. she’ll push the eggs out eventually and then the eggs will hatch on their own. and no – i have no plans of doing jk’s pov any time soon, and it’s up to you to imagine y/n’s fate. anyway!! i hope you uhh, enjoyed this! and thank you for all the love and support for this mini series, it means a lot to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖

#mermaid bts #mermaid au #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #mermaid jungkook #bts smut #jungkook x reader #yandere au #bts x reader #yandere mermaid #yandere x reader #bts au #bts fanfic

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dat-town · 3 years

Text

not gonna miss this chance

Characters: Han Seojun & soloist!female reader

Genre: fluff

Setting: true beauty au, set a year after the tv show’s ending timeline

Summary: Your career is on the verge of ending, hence your management puts you up to do a duet with the infamous Han Seojun. You have heard too many rumours about him to keep track of and yet, none of them could have prepared you for the feelings that came with meeting him.

Words: 4.1k

Self indulgent little snippet because he deserves happiness too.

You had heard of Han Seojun before meeting him, of course you had. Everybody who was in the industry had heard of the hot trend of a Newstagram star-turned idol and his band's shining debut from a year ago. They were told to have snatched teenage girls hearts all over Korea with their good looks and soulful music. You had heard their title track and you had to admit it was nice but nice wasn't enough in a cut-throat industry like entertainment.

Look at you, starting training at twelve, debuting at fifteen and now barely twenty-one you were on the verge of becoming a thrown away doll. Once you had been called cute and the it girl of your generation and now? People were saying you got boring just because your music had matured. Gosh, you couldn't keep singing about first love like your hit song had been for the rest of your life for god's sake. Your last album had been a flop, your company had been losing money and you were still afraid that even with a year left of your contract, they would cut you. But your manager had begged them for a chance and here it was: a collaboration with the newest love of Korea.

But the thing was, Han Seojun had quite a reputation and you didn't know who to believe. Some said he was well-mannered and hard-working. Others gossiped that he was always flirting with his makeup artists and Chen claimed he had been rude to her even when he had just been a ‘nobody’. Not that you were particularly fond of Chen either but as a fellow solo female singer you were a tad bit worried how the infamous singer would treat you.

Well, standing in front of Move Entertainment, you were just about to find out. Taking a shallow breath you followed your manager's lead, bowing to the receptionist and getting into the elevator after taking your visitor's badge. You had heard the company has gone through many changes after the executives were replaced due to the revealed Seyeon scandal but everything looked expensive, shiny and new, unlike in your small agency.

“Hey, I’m Lim Heekyung, nice to meet you. Seojun will be in a minute, too,” a woman in a pantsuit walked up to you on the right floor with a confident smile as she introduced herself. She led you to a meeting room which was apparently customized for a few people only and started preparing papers. She looked excited which was a relief and nice to see, at least someone from Move Entertainment was happy for this project apparently. You were a bit afraid they would see you like a leech, trying to cling onto their new star’s popularity.

“Shall we start? Seojun is a fan of dramatic entrances anyways,” Miss Lim laughed joyfully as if it wasn’t new to her that the idol didn’t make it on time. Ah yeah, you had heard rumours saying that he had something on the company and that was why they were so lenient with him.

You sat in silence, let your manager do the talk about the collaboration project. Seojun could play the guitar, you could play the piano, apparently it was perfect for a ballad duet, though if you used instruments yourself it added to the preparations time. But luckily, there was a songwriter named Leo at the company who had already sent in a few samples specifically for Seojun, so you didn’t have to start from zero.

“Ah, I see you started without me. What did I miss?” A tall boy opened the door wide and flipped down onto the chair across you casually. He had grown into his lanky limbs and with those wide shoulders hugged by the leather jacket, helix earrings in one ear and soft brown hair brushed to one side, it wasn’t a surprise how many female fans swooned over him. But there were a lot of handsome boys in the business, just his looks – no matter how confident he was in them based on the way he carried himself – wouldn’t make a difference.

Miss Lim patiently let Seojun know about the advances and only when she mentioned your name, did the boy glance at you. His dark brown eyes had a sharp form, just as piercing as his gaze, but the cunning smile spreading over his lips softened it a bit. He looked at you as if he wanted to see through you, to figure out how he should have approached you. You expected a snarky or arrogant comment, but in the end, he just flashed a blinding smile at you, one you could see on his posters, before turning back to Miss Lim.

“What’s the schedule?” he asked simply and you both were notified about the deadline of deciding and finalizing the song, the dates of planned recording sessions and the photoshoot. Since there would be no promotion period, it all would be done within a month and half from start to finish. You were a bit relieved hearing that and leave Move Entertainment without any confrontation.

You thought you were good at masking your wary feelings since the further meetings went well and the first recording session went okay-ish. Although both of you had been a bit scolded by the producer for not putting enough feelings into your singing. He claimed that the demo sent by Leo was much more emotional which made Seojun scoff and mumble under his nose. The PD called it for a day, making you promise to practice for next time and one by one they all left. Your manager told you that he would bring the car while you refresh yourself in the bathroom, so you really didn’t expect anyone to wait for you when you stepped out of the restroom, much less Han Seojun.

"Spit it out," he bit out barely glancing your way as he leaned against the corridor’s wall.

"What?" you spluttered as you were really taken aback by his out of blue appearance and question. The guy let out a tired sigh at your obliviousness and pushed himself away from the wall just to walk up to you, towering over your height with his.

"You look at me as if I killed your hamster or something. Which rumour about me bothers you? I fucking can't keep walking on eggshells around you, especially when it's just the two of us," he tsked and you gulped at the sudden called out. You didn’t think it bothered him, or that he was considerate enough to ‘walk on eggshells around you’, you merely thought he was so distant from everybody. It was still better than what Chen had told you.

"Oh, I… nothing. It's stupid. Sorry," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed for your your actions but Seojun apparently wasn’t satisfied without a real answer as he carried on:

"I didn't bully kids in high school but I threatened ones that deserved it, I didn't only get a pity chance from the entertainment, one of our makeup artists is actually one of my best friends, I'm not…"

"Chen told me you are rude and arrogant and have no respect for girls," you blurted out to stop him from speaking because you felt like you didn’t deserve to hear all that. He didn’t owe you any explanation for the way he was. You were just co-workers for a project after all, you had no place in his life, nor he had in yours, so he shouldn’t have been that bothered by your opinion but you understood that he felt uncomfortable due to your silent accusations.

Hearing your hasty interruption, the singer scoffed, a laugh-like sound leaving his mouth.

"Well, I have no respect for girls like Chen who harass my friends and turn their lives into hell just to go on a date with me," he said and it made you blink slowly.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Check your facts before you go around believing such crap," Seojun stepped back with a roll of his eyes.

The whole situation made you feel made about how you acted, so you wished to apologise but it fell from your lips all too carelessly: "Sorry, I was just worried. This is my last chance, so–"

"Last chance?" the guy quirked a brow at you, curious but you quickly waved his question away.

"Nevermind, I just need this song to do well."

"Of course, it will. I'm Han Seojun, it will turn to gold under my hands," he grinned and made eccentric gestures as if he was about to do magic. You couldn't help a smile. “Or well, vocal chords.”

And turn it to gold, he did.

The rest of your recording sessions went smoother, even the previously grumpy PD complimented your for the development in your chemistry. Funny, you wouldn’t have thought that the wall pulled up between the two of you mattered that much, but at least you didn’t have a knot in your stomach, nor did you worry about every small thing you did around Han Seojun. He also acted more casual, more playful, joking around when both of you had a bit of time to take a breather. He snapped silly pictures, showed off with his height, smirked when he got too close but despite all his bravado and lowkey flirting, you believed even he wouldn’t have jeopardised his career over something like this.

Maybe that's why wrapping up the recording felt a tad bit weird: you got used to his presence, his jokes, his beautiful, deep voice that you could have fallen asleep to. Sure, sometimes he was cocky, a bit rough around the edges but he was a great singer and a fun guy. The project seemed to work out well and you loved it a lot, so you hoped the listeners would appreciate it as well.

But before all that you had one photo shoot together for the promotional pictures and the single's cover. You were grateful for the simple pastel colour background and elegant setting. The warm light latte colour and the clock in the background really fit the song's vibe. Luckily, your dress was decent and pretty as well, you didn't have to feel uncomfortable in it at least. However, you didn’t expect that happy yelp coming from one of the makeup artists stepping into the dressing room. You turned to face the girl, wondering whether she was your fan judged by her excitement.

"Oh my! I'm so happy to finally meet you! Seojun told us about you so much!" she beamed at you which obviously took you back. Well, that you didn’t expect at all. He spoke of you to others? Ah. Apparently to the makeup artist who was most probably that certain one of his best friends he had told you about?

"Don't exaggerate, Imju, I mentioned her like what… once?" Seojun walked in on cue. He rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, trying to avert the topic. "How's Suho?"

You had know idea who that said guy was but after a moment or two you could breathe properly once again while listening to their chatting.

“Just the usual. He’s excited about your duet.”

“Of course, he is,” Seojun grinned, a bit snarky but you could hear the proud undertones of it. When he looked at you, you were surprised by him leaning close though as he quieted down until only you could hear it. “Don’t worry, Jugyeong is really good and just stop her if she gets too gossip-y.”

“Are you talking about me behind my back, hah, Han Seojun?” The pretty girl called Jugyeong raised her fist as if she was about to hit the idol but he just laughed it off and left you two alone when he was hurried onto the set to start with his individual shoots.

“Have you known each other for a long time?” you couldn’t help but wonder as you were seated to get your makeup from her.

“Ah, almost 4 years, I think. We went to high school together. Plus, he’s best friends with my boyfriend. Though, they are always bickering like a married couple,” Jugyeong chuckled joyfully as she started with the cushion. You closed your eyes, listening as she kept going on about the time when Seojun had been obsessed with his motorbike, getting into trouble with his mother. It was strange hearing about a whole other side of him, mama's boy but the image tugged on your mouth, making you smile even though you weren't sure you had the right to know all that. You also learned that Seojun's sister was dating Jugyeong's brother and you felt so involved with the girl's trust albeit it was your last meeting, you were sure Seojun must have only told good things about you.

Hence, you felt shy under his knowing gaze when you walked out of the dressing room. He must have known that Jugyeong couldn't shut up for the life of her, so he looked a bit uncertain, too, stretching the back of his neck, forcing a cunning smile onto his smile when you took your place next to him.

To fit the ballad's theme, the setting was a piano decorated with flowers and you were instructed to sit beside him as if you were about to play a four hands piece. As you did what you had been told, you were very much aware of the way your arms brushed, his long fingers over the keys close to yours, his smile small but genuine.

"Great, great, guys! Someone help her onto the piano and Seojun, stand in front of her," the photographer directed the next scene but before any staff members would have rushed up to you, the singer next to you shushed them.

"I can do it," he insisted as he stood up and looked you in the eyes, silently asking for permission. You nodded while holding your breath back before Seojun put his hands on your waist above the fluffy tulle skirt part and counting on three, he lifted you onto the lid of the beautiful instrument.

You crossed your legs, watching in awe as your pink skirt fell down on waves but your breath hitched for an entirely different reason when you looked up, gaze meeting Seojun's feline eyes trained on you. You had never seen him look at you like that, lacking playfulness or suspicion or curiosity. He looked open, vulnerable, outright starstruck. Your lips parted meaning to ask something but your brain shut off when you heard the shutter of the camera go down and the director yelling compliments at you. It made you snap out of it and later, you blamed the evident blush on your cheeks on the makeup. Seojun blinked too, his guarded expression back in no time, finishing the photo shoot professionally, always lingering close to you, but never touching you. Even though you wouldn’t have minded.

"Hey," Seojun peeked into your dressing room just as you were about to leave, packing up, with a smile on his mouth and sparkles in his deep brown eyes. But unlike half an hour ago when he wore a fancy suit and looked at you like a prince would have looked at his princess, he acted just as casual as he looked in his denim jacket over dark tee. "Wanna grab something with me if you finished for today?"

His question took you back but first thing first you glanced towards your manager, eyes begging for permission which you had gotten with a sigh.

"Just be discreet and call me if you need me to pick you up," your manager shrugged, leaving you two alone with a knowing look that told you to be careful. You didn't need to be told though, you knew how much depended on the current public response to your image.

"Seems like a green light. Have you thought of anything specific?" you turned back to the boy with a subtle smile.

"Not really but I know a few less frequent, secluded places to avoid much talk about us," he said and you nodded, following his lead. Masks, caps and hoodies on, you barely talk on your way to the tent with the lovely ahjumma who welcomed Seojun (two heads taller than her) with a pinch of his cheeks and told you to get seated.

"Are you a regular here?" you inquire, carefully pulling down your mask since not many people are around.

"You could say that," the boy hummed letting you adjust to the place at your own pace, not pressuring you with extra reassessments about how safe it is there. Yet, he is so casual as if he wasn't afraid of a getting mobbed by Dispatch out of the blue. Not that it happened to you a lot of times but you heard stories and at such a crucial time in your career, you feared something like that more than anything.

"Do you want to come up to mine instead?" Seojun blurted out suddenly which made you wide eyed in a span of a moment as you splattered out a surprised yelp. "Come on, I don't mean anything by it. You just look really nervous being in the public," the singer said, his deep voice softening, soothing by the end and you needed to take a breather before answering. You didn't think it was so obvious but apparently you had never been a good liar with him.

In the end, you decided on going over to Seojun's place, so he asked the ahjumma to pack your food to go and you headed towards his flat a few blocks from the company. It was a small but cozy place, much softer and brighter than you expected, lots of pastels and photos of friends and family. While the boy busied himself in the kitchen, getting you plates, chopsticks and beer, you were encouraged to look around and you couldn't help but smile at his photos with not only his band members but high school friends, too. You had seen photos of his graduation with Jugyeong, then another one of his debut with her and another guy. He was a recurring person on a lot of pictures, so you assumed that he was the so-called Suho.

"He's Jugyeong's boyfriend," Seojun affirmed as he walked up to you which you acknowledged with a hum and smiled at his photos with his sister and mother. The makeup artist was right when she said he was only tough on the outside.

"You knew Seyeon?" you whispered as your gaze shifted of a picture of three boys smiling widely into the camera. The middle one was the talented boy you had known from the news of his committed suicide. Such a tragedy.

"Uhum. We were best friends. Him, Suho and me," Seojun nodded and without having to ask, he told you how they had gotten to know each other, what were their favourite past time activities and how they fell apart when he died. You could see he was hurting even now as he was talking about it, so you grazed your fingers against his knuckles as though to say you were there for him to listen, or whatever he needed.

Talking about his best friends and how a group of guys including someone named Chorong stuck by his side over the years warmed your heart. It was nice to know that not everyone had it as lonely as you who basically missed out on high school and memories from that time to be able to turn your dreams into reality. Your only friends were also in the industry but it made things both easier and harder.

"What about you? What did you mean by this being your last chance?" Seojun asked like a loaded gun but after everything he had just told you, you knew you could trust him with this and being in the industry for a while now, he must have understood, too.

You told him about the rising expectations, about your image and your company's ultimatum. It actually felt nice to talk about with someone other than your manager. Especially since Seojun seemed to understand exactly why you felt conflicted over the matter. You have given your youth to this dream of yours, so giving up on it would have felt like betraying yourself and everyone who believed in you but you weren't sure you could give it another 10 years of your life no matter how much you liked music. You had decent CSATs result, maybe you could have applied for a university program. Seojun even offered to arrange a meeting between you and Suho who was studying to become a proper songwriter.

You talked for hours and ate the tteokbokki even though it had gotten cold long ago and you couldn't remember when was the last time you had felt so light. You felt giddy even with just the tiny bit of alcohol in your system by the time you knew it was time for you to go.

Once you had felt relieved knowing that promoting your duet would be only one performance but recently, you started dreading the moment because that meant that you wouldn't have any more excuse to see Seojun. In the backstage, this time around you greeted Jugyeong like an old friend and teased to give Seojun a funny makeup before walking up to your own assigned staff members. Your look was full of sparkles and glow fitting the silver colour of your dress, completing the ethereal vibe off the stage you were going to do and the beautiful song you had grown to love so much you held it close to your heart. The last rehearsals went smoothly and if you noticed Seojun's gaze lingering a bit too long, you didn't comment on it.

"Are you nervous?" he asked before the final recording and you knew it would have been unreasonable to deny it, so you replied with a small smile.

"A bit."

"Don't be. You're pretty and you'll do amazing," he reassured you and the way he said those words oh so easy. As if they were natural. As if he believed in you and maybe this was all the reassurance you needed because when you walked up onto the stage, not taking your eyes off his, it felt like it was just the two of you there. All the stress about not being good enough, about being judged for who you were and what you wanted to do with your life was subsided as you focused on the moment, just to sing this one song with one while trying to fight your heart's crazy beating.

You didn't really have the luxury to have crushes. You had always been concentrated on your work, you couldn't let yourself have distractions, especially since love scandals always affected girl worse than guy. At least that was what you told yourself for always putting up a wall around you and guarding your heart all too well. But during the past few weeks, between playful or flirty remarks, between smiles and ruffling hair, Seojun took apart your wall brick by brick even if he wasn't aware.

So it might have been only a few days since you had last seen him but in that rare moment of boredom, alone in your room, you realized that you missed him. Hell, you liked him and the feeling made me want to scream into your pillow as if you were a silly teenager. As if on cue, your phone buzzed with a new message and seeing the KakaoTalk ID made you shy.

duet partner, han seo jun

so...

i've been thinking

you

sounds dangerous but ok

duet partner, han seo jun

don't get sassy with me, miss

you

what have you been thinking about?

duet partner, han seo jun

that i don't want to miss my chance

there's this girl i like

i thought of asking her out

do you think she would say yes?

you

oh. well... why wouldn't she?

i mean, you are talented, handsome, funny and reliable

duet partner, han seo jun

and what about my job? it's busy and a bit crazy

don't you think it would be unfair of me to ask?

you

I think you should let her decide that

duet partner, han seo jun

okay

are you free on friday?

you

um, sure?

duet partner, han seo jun

cool, then go on a date with me?

#han seo jun x reader #seojun x reader #han seojun #han seo joon #true beauty #stories #i just wanted to give him a happy end after ep16 #that's what this is about

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pinkglitteranddeath · 2 years

Text

Koko's Day Pt 2

Prompt- You are the most dangerous female assassin and you just so happen to catch the eyes of Bonten.

Pairing- Bonten x Reader

Fandom- Tokyo Revengers

Part 7 of the Ace of Hearts Series

"Y/n wait!" Koko called as you half dragged him out of the arcade. Tugging his hand out of yours he looked at you with an unreadable expression. "Why are you doing this?"

"Honestly I don't know. We're not even that close but just then when you were talking about Inui you just looked so sad that I wanted to help. I know crazy right. An assassin wanting to help someone out of the goodness of their heart but it's the truth. Now do you want to find him or not?"

Dropping his head slightly Koko replied softly "Yes I do want to find him."

"Excellent!" you clapped your hands together "Now do you have any information that could help us track him down?"

"Yes actually," he said "I know I said back there that I didn't know what he was doing now but I do know that he runs a bike shop with and old acquaintance called Draken. I can't remember the name of the shop though."

"Well that's something. I don't know many Inui's and Draken's running bike shops so a simple google shop should show us what we need to find."

And it did. After scrolling down a bit you came across a picture of two guy's standing in front of a bike shop.

One was was quite tall and had black hair. It was shaven on the sides, exposing a dragon tattoo and hair in the middle was braided. His eyes were coal black. The other was average height and had sunflower blond hair. He had piercing blue eyes and the left side of his face was marred by a large burn scar. Both of the men were smiling and had arms around each other's shoulders. The caption below the picture was 'Draken's and Inupi's grand bike shop opening :D'.

"Is this them?" you showed Koko the picture.

"Definitely." he said turning slightly pale. "I know that shop. I've driven pass it so many times I can't believe he was there all the time."

"Well let's go there!" you said excitedly. Getting in his car you started driving. Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye you noticed that he was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

Soon enough you were pulling up in front of the bike shop. It seemed like well kept establishment. The sign in front was bright and clear stating that the name of this shop was 'D&D Motorcycle Shop'.

Standing in front of the shop you glanced at Koko. He seemed to be hesitating, hand hovering above the door handle.

"What if he doesn't want to see me?" he asked suddenly.

This took you by surprise, if there was one thing you knew about Koko was that he was very sure of himself but now he sounded so doubtful.

"Well I don't Inui personally but if it we're me I would be overjoyed to see my childhood best friend. Plus the only way to find out is to go in." you responded.

Your speech seemed to have doon Koko some good as he pushed open the door with a bit more resolve.

The inside of the shop was bright and clean. Different motorbikes were displayed at the front and the back wall contained a large counter. Different helmets lined the walls. The tinkling of the bell seemed to have alerted someone in the back as the staff only door swung open.

You recognized him as the second man in the photo this must be Inui. He didn't seem to have realized who Koko was as he said in an amiable voice "Hello how can I help you?"

"Inui it's me Koko."

A loud clang sounded through the shop as Inui dropped the wrench he had been holding. "Is it really you?" he asked.

As Koko nodded a wide grin stretched across the blond man's face. Popping his head round the door he had come from he yelled "Draken I'm taking a short break. Something came up." Without waiting for a reply he turned back to Koko.

"We have some serious catching up to do man." With that the two men stepped out to talk not even glancing at you as they strode out. You were glad that the two friends had been reunited but wished that you hadn't been left alone in the shop.

After a few minutes another man came out the back door. He was the second man in the picture so he must be Draken. He seem surprised to see you standing alone in the middle of the shop but asked politely "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Not really," you said awkwardly not knowing how to explain the situation. Eventually you settled on the shortest explanation. "My friend came to see your coworker. They're talking outside I'm just waiting for them here."

He looked at you funnily almost as if he could tell you were withholding information but he accepted it with a small nod.

The atmosphere was quite awkward with you two just standing there but soon Draken went back to back room muttering that he needed to finish work on a bike. Now you were there alone again watching the minutes tick by. You wondered what Koko and Inui were discussing that was taking them so long. It was late in the afternoon by now and you were tired.

But you didn't have to wait much longer. The front door swung open bringing in a dusty smell and the two men walked in. Getting up from where you were leaning on the counter you asked "Is it time to go?"

"Yes but before we do let me introduce you two properly. Inui this is Y/n. Y/n this is Inui."

You politely shook hands and then turned two leave. "Is she your girlfriend Koko?" Inui asked teasingly as you two step outside.

"She's nothing of the sort." Koko said in a slightly flustered voice as he bustled you into the car. Laughing you go into the passenger seat.

After that day things changed between you and Koko. It wasn't visible and only you two knew it was there but no longer was there slight animosity but instead a teasing friendship.

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Soured Nostalgia

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When Reader moves their stuff in to Spencer’s apartment they find photos that he kept over the years. One photo of the past springs up memories of Spencer’s precious relationship with Elle.

A/N: hey heeeyyy everybody- here’s a fic I’ve been really excited to share with everyone. It’s my eleventh fic for my 30 fics in 30 days!!! This was the original request (I made it a little different lol I hope you like it)I had a fun time with it mostly cause I totally think Spencer and Elle had something going on at some point 😉 Plus I got to incorporate older angsty post prison Spencer and mention how he used to be a little baby ☺️ I’m curious to hear y’all’s thoughts about the Reidaway ship, or really anything so feel free to drop an ask to my inbox here. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Joking about being jealous???, Reidaway in the past, Spencer being sad about the people who’ve left him, Sub Spencer, Only a bit of dry sex, Masturbation, Unprotected sex, Use of a belt to restrain, A few taps on the cheek, Reader’s hand is around Spencer’s throat for a second

Main Masterlist Word Count: 3.2k

Reminiscing on the past was difficult depending on how the story had ended. Memories that may have been happy could turn too painful because of the ending result. Age turned the memories into unreliable accounts as well, unable to truly remember how things had been back then and how you had truly felt.

Memories were still something to hold onto and cherish even though they got twisted with age and opinion. Nostalgia, a sentimental or wishful affection for the past, was an addictive feeling even if it made you cry. It remained addictive even if most of your past memories had hurt you with no sentiment attached. Everyone always chased the euphoric feelings they had when looking at the ghosts of their past. Sometimes even when looking back you can find something that had once soured had turned sweet again.

Spencer had many memories that he was no longer able to look back upon for a host of reasons. Most often it was because he could no longer bear to look back on a memory of someone who had left him. Whether it was his Dad, Gideon, Hotch, Blake, Elle, and many others, looking back at them just made him often feel like everyone in his entire life had left him.

That wasn’t true of course, he still had his Mom- and you. Even with his Mom there were still many of his memories with her were still stained with guilt, though that had gotten better with time and with your help.

You had begun helping him find the benefit in looking back, trying to make the soured nostalgia a bit sweeter again. It was getting easier as time ticked by for him to open up to you about everything in his past, the good and the bad. At first you had been staring at a wall that he had been building higher and higher throughout the years, it was daunting how tall it was. When you helped take a sledgehammer to it, making it crumble beneath your effort, he pulled away for a while. He felt comfortable by himself behind his own Great Wall until you showed him the benefits of sharing the secrets he held behind it. But, you still stayed, helping him as much as you could until he was willing to open up.

It had been many months since you started your effort to help him break it down. At some point in the last months you had both fallen into a relationship, a romantic one. What had once been a platonic relationship forged from shared interests evolved into a romance emerging from the rubble of his wall.

He had even given you a key to his apartment at one point, which he had never done with anyone except the bureau. Emily was the one that really had it, but that was strictly for work reasons. This was a show of trust which was much more helpful than his wall that had reached the heights of a skyscraper.

A simple key soon turned into you staying at his place more often than at your own. You had casually mentioned one day while watching one of Spencer’s favorite documentaries that you basically lived here now. It was a true statement, most of the clothes you wore on a daily basis had been given a spot in his dresser and the toothbrush you kept there was not the one you used for travel- that one was at your place. You had begun to put your mark on Spencer’s life in a more permanent way than before.

When he had spontaneously suggested the next day that you should move in with him, you knew that your small comment had stuck in his brain. It was easy to agree to, you had said you basically already lived here, plus living with the love of your life sounded like a dream. You only had a few things that you wanted to bring over and it was mostly decorative stuff that you could’ve let go if Spencer hadn’t insisted that he wanted you to make the space your own.

While turning the space that was once solely Spencer’s into something for you both, you had found a small clear box with a blue lid, filled with pictures. Spencer didn’t have a lot of personal pictures framed, there was one with you and him by the bed, one with the team by his desk, one with him and Morgan on the living room wall, and one with you two and his Mom also hung up in the living room.

When you had shown him the box he could tell you were curious, letting you look through it without a moment of hesitation. In the past Spencer would have been wary sharing his memories with you, but now he’d let you look. If only you could get him to look at the box with you.

You weren’t surprised he didn't want to look with you once you saw the people littered throughout the snapshots. Varying people that had left were in most of them, even some you never met.

Ones with Hotch and Gideon- even one from a long time ago with his father buried at the bottom. As you browsed through them you were glad he was able to hang up that photo of him and Morgan, at least they had parted with some closure. It also helped that he still saw him regularly, he had never fully left like some of the people from his past.

One picture in particular stood out to you, it was another team photo, they seemed more carefree in this one compared to now. There was baby Spencer, before you had known him, in a birthday boy hat smiling with the rest of the team. You guessed it was around his 23rd or 24th birthday, going by the slick back gelled hair he had sported in his earlier years. He seemed so much more different back then, perhaps more carefree compared to now. But, he also seemed much more unsure of himself, maybe a bit self conscious. In the photo you could tell he was nervous, just by the look in his eyes. He still had that same look in his eyes whenever he felt nervous.

Then you looked closer at where his eyes were focused on, there was a clear line of sight from him to Elle. Elle was way less nervous in this captured moment compared to Spencer, though from what you had heard she had always been like that.

Your gaze on the photo was broken when Spencer then came into the living room where you were sitting on the couch.

You decided to test the waters to see if he might want to take a look at the photo with you, “Why do you look so nervous in this photo?”

He stopped the path he had been taking, then stood still for a second before deciding to sit next to you on the couch. Straining his neck he gazed over at the photo you were holding in your hands. It was silent for a while as he looked over it, stopping to look at his old team. Some of the team still remained intact, namely JJ, but she wasn’t the same as she had been all those years ago. You let him take it from your hands, so he could look at it closer. He cleared his throat a little, though his voice still came out slightly raspy when he spoke, though he didn’t answer the question you had asked him,“It’s the only picture I ever had taken with Elle…”

“I know you guys were- close.” You didn’t ask your previous question again, sensing that it was still too much to talk about in specifics. What he was telling you right now was even more than what he told you, only telling you that she was his first, everything. Any supplemental information was from talking discreetly to JJ about it one night because you were somewhat curious.

Tiptoeing around the relationship you knew that they had previously was like walking through a minefield. You tried the best that you could to avoid making him too upset. When you got him to open up, it wasn’t by forcing him to talk all at once. Busting the wall down was done brick by brick, not all at once.

“I’m glad you aren’t jealous of her.” His comment was said with less sadness than before. It was nice to see a glimpse of the weight coming off of his shoulders, even if it was just for a moment.

“What? Do you want me to be jealous of her?” You teased, lightheartedly so he wouldn’t dwell on the sad aspect of their past relationship. He smiled softly which deepened when you playfully stuck your tongue out and crossed your arms.

“No- you’ve got nothing to be jealous about…” Any playfulness in his voice was erased as his sentence trailed off. You didn’t say anything for a moment in case he wanted to continue his thought. And, after a moment of silence he did, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left…”

“I know- I was just joking about being jealous. I know how much she meant to you…” His eyes moved away from you, at first you thought it might be because he was still feeling the pain of losing her all those years ago. But, there was something else in his eyes, it naturally made you curious, “What are you thinking about?”

“If you were jealous- what would you have done?” His mind must have shifted away from thinking about the ending of his memories with Elle, which was a step in the right direction. At least he wasn’t avoiding the topic all together, he was still talking about her in a sense.

You bit your lip, thinking about what direction you could take this in. You weren’t going to lie, your mind had gone straight into the gutter at his suggestion and by the look on Spencer’s face so had his.

“Hmmm…” You pretended to ponder while you moved from where you were sitting on the couch to sit on something better, Spencer’s lap. Straddling him then with ease you looked down at his face tracing his cheeks with your fingers. His pupils were blown wide now, almost completely devouring his iris that had become a small ring. He didn’t say anything yet, waiting for you to continue your thought obediently, “I think I would do things to you that I suspect she never did.”

He gulped hard, hard enough that you could hear it. You continued to trace your fingers along his face, sometimes picking a lock of his hair to twirl, waiting for him to say something else like you knew he wanted to. It only took a few more seconds of your touches and your eyes staring into his own before he asked, “C-Can you show me?”

You stopped your movements, pausing for dramatic effect before crushing his lips onto your own. He squared into your mouth at first, clearly taken off guard by your sudden kiss. Before he had processed what was going on enough to let you, you forced your tongue into his mouth, earning you a delicious moan from him.

When you moved again suddenly, separating your mouth with his for just a moment, he tried to chase your lips. Pushing a finger to his lips you then used that to push him back into the couch, then answering his question, “Gladly.”

You kept your finger on his mouth to seal them shut. He could have opened it easily to respond to you, but he wanted to see what you might do next.

Instead of going back to kissing him you started to pull his belt off of him. It was difficult with one hand, taking much longer than it would be with two. But, you still kept your finger rested in the position most people use to shush someone.

Once the belt had finally been pulled from the belt loops of his slacks you finally removed your finger from his mouth. He still remained quiet, his eyes following your every move intently. You then went to work, pinning his hands above his head, then beginning to restrain them with his belt.

“Did she do this to you?” Goading him while you looped the belt around his hands. You made sure to go as slow as possible while you restrained him just to make it last longer until you gave him what he wanted. You even began to grind down on his cock a little bit, it obviously ached to be free from its confines in his trousers by how strained the slacks were getting.

“No!” His voice was broken and breathy, exactly how you wanted it as you tightened the belt around his hand a little more.

Once you were satisfied that the belt was tight enough you got off of him to remove the shorts you had been wearing, along with the rest of your clothes. Normally when you were naked and Spencer was clothed it would be when you were underneath him as a sort of power play. In this position, where he couldn’t move without fear of consequences while you restraddled him completely naked was almost even more empowering.

To play with the dynamic even more you had him remain confined in his slacks for a while longer, while you touched yourself. You were already quite wet from seeing Spencer in this position and exerting that power by pumping your fingers in you while he could do nothing had you dripping onto his slacks.

Spencer’s jaw had gone slack while watching you moan above him, completely speechless from your actions. It was almost comical and entirely too easy to tease him about, “Close your mouth you might catch flies.” His mouth clenched shut at that. It soon fell slack again at your next words while you brought yourself closer to the edge with your fingers, “What? Did she never do this for you?”

All Spencer could do was sit there and take it, shaking his head side to side, only a little so he could keep his eyes on you. You decided to be merciful, pulling your fingers out of you just before you orgasmed. You wanted to finish at the same time as him anyway.

Finally, you pulled his aching cock out of his slacks. It was throbbing in your hand as you spread your wetness with the fingers that had been inside you. Because you had edged yourself earlier, you couldn’t take teasing him any longer. You lined the head of his cock that was red and weeping up to your entrance, sinking down as fast as you could take him. While you sunk down you rubbed your clit in slow circles, not enough to make you orgasm, but enough to make it easier to take him.

Once you had fully taken him you wasted no time, immediately beginning to build up a fast pace. And, of course you couldn’t help but goad him again,

“Did she make you feel this good?” Your pace you had chosen was rough, bouncing and rolling your hips with reckless abandon while he had to take it without being able to move. He could have thrusted up into you even without the use of his hands, but he had one too many of your punishments in the past to be willing to break the rules so explicitly. Now if he ever broke the rules now it was him subtly bending them. Though, you could tell by the way his eyes rolled back into his head that he had no intention of doing that tonight. It felt too good to be used like this by you.

He still had not answered you though, not on purpose, but you still needed an answer. Tapping his cheek a few times, just hard enough to get his attention. It caused him to whine, but he still didn’t give you an answer. Since that didn’t work you decided to ask again, “I asked you a question. Did she make you feel this good? Did she use you like this?”

To add an extra edge to your words filled with a deadly tone you reached one of your hands forward to grasp around his neck. To make him look at you directly you forcefully tilted his neck, eyes once again trained on yours. He finally found it in himself to answer, “It felt good with her, but it feels best with you! I love you!”

“Good.” You simply stated and dropped your hold on his neck so you could return it to its place on his chest, using it as leverage to help you continue your fast pace. Your orgasm was fast approaching, his cock hitting you in the perfect spot, all you needed was a bit more stimulation. When you brought your hand down to run fast circles onto your clit, you soon fell apart above him. Spencer couldn’t help but look up at you in awe, speechless at how beautiful you look while you writhed on top of him.

Your own release pushed Spencer close to the edge and he started to beg, “I’m gonna cum! Please, can I?”

His hands had tightened into fists above him, knuckles going white over the effort of keeping them right where you had placed them originally. You were pleased with the way he had begged, glad that he had asked permission before even thinking about cumming. You still left him in suspense for a bit longer as you continued to work yourself on his painfully hard cock. Pressing a few kisses to his exposed skin under his collar was admittedly just to torture him a bit longer before you finally gave the command.

“Cum for me then.” Spencer followed your command eagerly, taking only two more of you bouncing on top of him to release inside you with a groan. While he rode out his release his lips captured around one of your pebbled peaks, sucking hard to get one last moan out of you.

Slumping forward after you had both finished and you had taken the belt off his wrists with the promise you’d lotion them up after you cuddled. You rested your head on his shoulder, wanting to stay as close as possible for a little while longer. He started tracing his fingers up and down your spine, relaxing you even further, almost to the point of falling asleep.

Before your eyes closed shut in post coital sleepiness your mind wandered a bit back to Elle. Elle had been an important figure in his life, his first real connection with someone special. Sure you teased about being jealous, but you thought it was important to tell him that you were ok with him thinking back on her. You knew he loved you. It most likely would take time till he was able to think or talk about her without a sharp pain in his chest, reminding him of how it all ended.

He hadn’t told you exactly what had happened, but it wasn’t hard to fill in all of the gaps. You turned your head, eyelashes fluttering when you nuzzled into his hair. Then you spoke quietly just enough so the sound could travel the short distance to his ear, “You should frame the picture, you look cute in it. And, I meant to say it earlier, I love you too.”

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie

Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor @princesssmooshie

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg #mgg x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #30 fics in 30 days

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osakaso5 · 3 years

Text

IDOLiSH7 6th Anniversary Special Story: Full of Heart...

Chapter 5: To All Of You In The Past

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

Yamato Nikaido: Morning, Yaotome. Sorry for making you drop by so early in the morning.

Gaku Yaotome: It's cool. I was free, anyway.

Mitsuki Izumi: Ah, Yaotome. Morning. Have you had breakfast yet? I can make you a little something if not.

Gaku Yaotome: I'm good.

Nagi Rokuya: OH! What a thick file you have. Is that an album, by any chance?

Gaku Yaotome: Yeah.

Nagi Rokuya: What about yours, Yamato?

Yamato Nikaido: Me and Yaotome were chatting the other day, and we realized our photos for the show might be too similar.

Mitsuki Izumi: You and Yaotome's? How come?

Yamato Nikaido: Both our dads work in the entertainment industry.

Gaku Yaotome: Both of us are only children.

Yamato Nikaido: Both of us wore paper helmets on Children's Day.

Gaku Yaotome: Both of us wore jinbei in the evenings.

Yamato Nikaido: Both of us wore hakamas on New Year's.

Gaku Yaotome: Both of us wore yukatas to summer festivals.

Yamato Nikaido: Both of us wore golfwear in the autumn.

Gaku Yaotome: Both of us wore winter sportswear in the winter.

Mitsuki Izumi: Wow, that's nice! I had no idea your dad was as doting as Yamato-san's, Yaotome.

Gaku Yaotome: I wouldn't call him doting. He's just been trying to get me into the industry since before I could remember.

Gaku Yaotome: Unlike Nikaido's, these pictures are nothing but promotional materials.

Yamato Nikaido: It's not like my old man doted on me, either. He just wanted to relieve his guilt by showering his illegitimate kid with presents.

Yamato Nikaido: If anyone here was spoiled, it's gotta be Nagi, right? What with him being a prince and all.

Nagi Rokuya: Would you like to see my favorite horse?

Gaku Yaotome: An actual prince on a white steed!?

Mitsuki Izumi: Looking good, Nagi! Who's that on the light brown horse behind you?

Nagi Rokuya: My brother.

Yamato Nikaido: Oh, Seto-san! He looks super young here!!! Like a textbook pretty boy!

Gaku Yaotome: Wow. So this dude's Rokuya Senior. I'd like to meet him someday. Bring him over if he's ever in Japan.

Yamato Nikaido: That's a prince you're talking about. You'll end up causing some kind of diplomatic scandal if you call him stuff like "Rokuya Senior" or "this dude".

Gaku Yaotome: Ah, right. What should I call him then? Prince Senior? His Royal Brotherliness?

Nagi Rokuya: Just "Prince Seto" will do.

Gaku Yaotome: If Prince Seto ever comes to Japan, I wanna meet him. I'll feed him the best Japanese food he's ever had.

Nagi Rokuya: Thanks! I am sure he would love that.

Gaku Yaotome: What about you, Izumi Senior? What kind of picture did you pick?

Mitsuki Izumi: This one! Ta-dah!

Yamato Nikaido: Ooh! You're doing a parody of Zero's Midnight! Looks cool!

Gaku Yaotome: It's his most iconic album cover, and you completely nailed it! Where'd you get the costume?

Mitsuki Izumi: My parents made it. Iori helped too, with the accessories and stuff.

Nagi Rokuya: Wonderful! You were a little star! The loveliest of idols!

Gaku Yaotome: It's a great photo! I'm willing to bet your Zero cosplay'll be the most exciting one on the show!

Mitsuki Izumi: Thanks! What kind of photos did you two have in mind?

Yamato Nikaido: Well...

Gaku Yaotome: Let's see that album of yours, Nikaido. I'll help you choose.

Yamato Nikaido: You wanna pick out my photo?

Gaku Yaotome: I'll give you suggestions. Feel free to do the same with mine.

Yamato Nikaido: What? That's a pretty tall order. I have to be careful not to pick anything your fans might jump me over...

Mitsuki Izumi: Let's see 'em. I'll help too.

Nagi Rokuya: In that case, I will help Yaotome-shi choose the loveliest Yamato we can find.

Gaku Yaotome: ...There sure are a lot of those in here.

Nagi Rokuya: OH... It is nothing but lovely Yamatos.

Mitsuki Izumi: Seriously? Lemme see.

Yamato Nikaido: Oh, come on! They're not that big of a deal!

Gaku Yaotome: Now there's a smile that'll melt your heart.

Nagi Rokuya: Yes indeed.

Mitsuki Izumi: Ah... He's totally got the look of a spoiled rich kid!

Yamato Nikaido: Stoooop!!!

Mitsuki Izumi: You've been telling people to count on you, when you were like this yourself!? You must work so hard to put up that leader front!

Yamato Nikaido: I-it's not like that!!!

Mitsuki Izumi: It's fine! You're a man, just admit it!!! We can hug it out later!

Yamato Nikaido: I... I don't need your hugs..!

Gaku Yaotome: You look like you'll burst out crying as soon as someone pinches your cheek.

Nagi Rokuya: Hm... It does not look as if you were ever bullied.

Yamato Nikaido: Crap. Now I wanna drop out of this project..!

Gaku Yaotome: It's nothing to be ashamed of. I like this photo. The one where you're eating melon.

Nagi Rokuya: OH! How lovely, pretty, and cute! You were so sweet, Yamato!

Mitsuki Izumi: It's super cute! Looks like little Yamato here loved his melon! Isn't that nice!?

Yamato Nikaido: "Loved my melon"..?

Gaku Yaotome: A melon farmer could use it for an advertisement. That's how nice you look here.

Nagi Rokuya: It is the very picture of happiness. We should hang it on the living room wall.

Yamato Nikaido: Stop it, seriously...

Gaku Yaotome: Jokes aside, it's a nice photo. It shows off what a warm-hearted guy you are. Let's use this one.

Yamato Nikaido: Really..?

Gaku Yaotome: Trust me. It's this one or nothing.

Yamato Nikaido: I guess I'll use it, then... Ugh... I bet my face is gonna be bright red when they show this... I'll need to wear at least three pairs of glasses to cover it up.

Mitsuki Izumi: Don't be silly. Instead of worrying about your own picture, why don't you pick something for Yaotome already?

Yamato Nikaido: I could pick one at random with my eyes closed, and he'd probably just be his usual cool self in it.

Gaku Yaotome: I can't tell if that's a compliment or an insult. Either way, no closing your eyes.

Yamato Nikaido: Damn. This one's like something out of a manga... How were you this cool-looking in grade school..?

Mitsuki Izumi: He looks super stylish..! And check out that charismatic look in his eyes!

Nagi Rokuya: Why, it almost rivals mine!

Gaku Yaotome: I've got some goofier ones in there, too. Like this one with the wooden chopsticks...

Yamato Nikaido: No way. That one's way out. I don't want the face you're making to backfire and make you even more popular somehow.

Gaku Yaotome: What do I need to do for you to like even one of my pictures..?

Yamato Nikaido: Your thoughts, Mitsu?

Mitsuki Izumi: I'll let you decide, since Yaotome did the same for you.

Yamato Nikaido: You're mean. And here you were, offering to hug me just a minute ago...

Nagi Rokuya: Perhaps we should hang this sweet Yamato on the living room wall after all?

Yamato Nikaido: No! Hmm... Let's see...

Yamato Nikaido: How about this one?

Mitsuki Izumi: Ah... I like it.

Nagi Rokuya: OH... Has he fallen over, I wonder? His knee is injured.

Mitsuki Izumi: He looks hurt, but even though he's got tears in his eyes, he's trying really hard to hold it together.

Yamato Nikaido: Classic Yaotome move.

Gaku Yaotome: Is it? I guess I'll go with this one, then.

Mitsuki Izumi: Did President Yaotome take this one?

Gaku Yaotome: Probably.

Mitsuki Izumi: What kind of parent takes a picture when their kid's hurt..?

Gaku Yaotome: My old man never was the type to run over all worried. He'd just stare at me and tell me to get up.

Yamato Nikaido: Would he at least reward you for doing as he said?

Gaku Yaotome: Of course not. He'd just go off on one of his sermons. Telling me that I was too rowdy and careless.

Gaku Yaotome: Then again... I was tough enough to get up after a little fall.

Mitsuki Izumi: So that makes it okay?

Gaku Yaotome: Doesn't mean I didn't wish he had worried, or ran over, or picked me up...

Gaku Yaotome: But if he had, I'd just have gotten mad and told him I was fine on my own.

Gaku Yaotome: So, uh, I'm thinking we were fine the way we were.

Yamato Nikaido: He sounds strict... But I think that's cooler than if he’d just have pampered you, and not told you to do things for yourself.

Gaku Yaotome: You looked pretty happy being pampered, though. I mean, just look at this melon farm posterboy...

Yamato Nikaido: Stop calling me that.

Mitsuki Izumi: I guess our childhoods affect us all in different ways.

Nagi Rokuya: Yes. We each have our own, wonderful tales.

Nagi Rokuya: Hello, my friends from the past. I will meet you soon enough.

Mitsuki Izumi: Haha, talking to our pictures, are you?

Yamato Nikaido: What are you, a time traveler?

Gaku Yaotome: No need to be soft on me, if you ever go to the past. I'll work things out for myself.

Nagi Rokuya: OK. Hello. I am Nagi Rokuya, time traveler. And I love you all.

Nagi Rokuya: I could not be more excited for when we finally meet. It will be so nice to see you. Until then, I wish you well.

Nagi Rokuya: Please be happy.

To be continued...

#idolish7 #anniversary story 2021 #translation #i7 #trigger #re:vale #zool #other translations

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saynotoshityouhate · 3 years

Text

photo from pinterest

Across the Alley (Adam Sackler x Reader)

summary: Your new neighbor likes to put on a show - but little did you know, he knows you’ve been watching.

note: this was a piece I wrote for the Summer 2021 @adcuficexchange for AO3 user 1986_Special, who also wrote my gift fic! I had so much fun with this prompt - maybe I’ll work on a part two?

cw: mutual masturbation, solo masturbation (male and female), watching your neighbor play, playing with cum like only Sackler can

Adam awoke as your bedroom light shone through his window. You were home; it was late. He wondered how the date he correctly assumed you’d been on, based on your many outfit changes, had fared. Poking his head up from his pillow, he looked across the alleyway to see you sitting on your bed, head in your hands. Must not have gone well, he thought.

Adam had been watching you since you’d moved in. He had noticed the moving trucks outside one day and, being curious, he looked out to see who his new neighbor would be. He ended up very pleasantly surprised. Over the course of the next few months he picked up on your little habits and quirks, like your love for black and white films, your morning dance parties in your underwear, and your favorite chinese food order. He found himself craving more from you - like why haven’t you brought anyone home, or why the pink vibrator is your favorite.

He’d also love to know your name, so he could hear it pass through his lips, tasting every vowel and consonant as he came.

----

After getting unceremoniously dumped by your long-term boyfriend, you needed a major life change. Moving to New York City as a single young adult was the absolute dream...right? You’d been surrounded by romantic media portrayals of life in the Big Apple growing up - Friends! Sex and the City! Will and Grace! How I Met Your Mother! As soon as you handed “he who must not be named” your set of keys, you knew this was the logical next step in your life plan.

It was your first night in your apartment by yourself when you noticed him. You had yourself all cozy in bed, watching your favorite old movie, when you heard a loud growl coming from across the alleyway. Carefully peeking out of the window, you saw a large man swinging a 2x4 around his apartment - wood and dust and glass were flying around his muscular frame, dressed in only a pair of low slung jeans and safety goggles. You called your best friend in the morning to let her know you had found your first crazy New Yorker - a right of passage and something to check off your NYC bucket list.

You worked from home, giving you plenty of opportunity to study this man across the alley. He had an odd sense of style - it was either the same pair of jeans (no shirt needed, a trait you quickly began to appreciate) or a dingy onesie that looked like something his great grandfather may have worn. He was some kind of carpenter, and was always shouting at something or someone. He had a dog, but only for a day, and didn’t often have company.

You were lonely - your friends were across the country, and every date you had been on so far had been a disaster. You were starting to reconsider this decision, but you were too stubborn to truly admit you were wrong. Plus, there were other ways to fulfil those lonely feelings.

When he didn’t have company, he had a certain nightly routine. He’d grab a tall glass of milk and a tattered old book from his extensive collection, and head into the bedroom. He’d read a few chapters until the milk was gone, and then make himself comfortable propped up with pillows against the headboard. He’d wiggle his hips, moving his tight black briefs down past his knees. He’d squirt two pumps of some kind of lubricant into his enormous hand before slowly, and not at all gracefully, bringing himself to orgasm.

You were usually already in bed when this routine would begin. Covering yourself with your blanket, you’d get comfy enough to watch the show, bringing your trusty pink vibrator along. You wondered if he knew you were watching him, if he knew you were touching yourself along with him, mirroring his long, languid strokes with your fingers, wishing it was his thick veiny cock that brought you to your release instead.

——

Adam caught on quickly that you were watching him too. He could gauge how your day was going based on how many trips you took to refill your coffee cup throughout the day. More coffee meant more stress, meaning more urgency for a way to relieve that stress. Who knew he’d have a dirty little voyeur move in next door? Adam had some kinks, but voyeurism was never one of them - until now. Tonight, however, Adam had a plan.

——

“Oh god, yes, yes,” you whimpered, eyes shut tight. Your head was full of the dirty things the man next door could do to you. The guy you had dinner with tonight was a total loser, some Wall Street know it all with a fancy apartment but zero social skills. Your neighbor was already asleep, so you had nothing but your own thoughts to put you in the mood. Thinking of his broad chest, muscular back, and endearingly goofy mannerisms tightened the coil in your lower belly. The image of his two hands pumping himself up and down while his entire body flexed in anticipation snapped that coil, causing your back to arch almost unnaturally, moaning louder than ever before. As you relaxed back down into the mattress, you turned your head towards your sleeping neighbor’s apartment. Only to see that he was not asleep.

——

As soon as your light turned off, Adam snapped to attention. He watched you reach into your bottom drawer, pulling out your favorite toy. He smiled. Show time. He gave you a bit of a head start, watching your body movements slowly increase in speed and intensity. He palmed himself through his briefs, wanting to last a bit longer. He saw the way your toes began to curl, spurring him to jump out of bed, kicking off his briefs in the process. He stood in front of the window, cock in hand, and watched as silent words spilled from your perfect lips, as your forehead furrowed and your back ultimately arched, stroking himself the entire time. It was the most erotic moment he had ever experienced. As his legs began to shake, he leaned one forearm against the window keeping his eyes on you from beneath his dark eyelashes.

—-

This was how you saw him, chest heaving, right arm pumping vigorously, a flush crept across his chest and neck, punctuated by his hair, dampened from sweat and stuck to his forehead. His eyes were trained on you.

You sat up in bed, fascinated by what was happening before your eyes. Your mind was reeling - so he knew what you were doing…and he was more than okay with it? How long had he known? Oh my god what if you saw each other on the street? He didn’t seem like a murderer - a bit erratic, maybe, but not a murderer. For every panicked thought, there were two that sent quivers throughout your already overstimulated body. You crawled to the edge of your bed, sitting cross-legged and watched as your neighbor climaxed, spurts of cum hitting the windowpane in front of him.

——

Adam closed his eyes for just a moment, regulating his breath and heart rate. Slowly opening them back up, he saw you were literally on the edge of your seat. He laughed, more than satisfied with his performance. Leaning down, he smeared some of the mess on his window, letting him write a crude “hi” message. He saw you laugh, covering your face and shaking your head. Adam scampered across his bedroom, wiping his hands on a dirty towel before grabbing a notepad and pen. He wrote a message and held it up against the dirty window for you to read.

“Hi! I’m Adam! Same time tomorrow?”

#adam sackler smut #Adam sackler #adam sackler x you #adam sackler fanfic #adam sackler x reader #Adam sackler x y/n #adcu #adcu community #adcu fic exchange

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whosscruffylooking · 3 years

Text

The Purest Things-Something There

Warnings: Mentions of murder. Canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 2.5k

a/n: i am so beyond sorry that it has taken this long to get another chapter out. this doesn’t follow my post schedule that i had previously given, but hopefully this can be a good place holder till later this week.

The Purest Things Masterlist

May 2008

Bookend: "It took me quite a long time to develop a voice, and now that I have it, I am not going to be silent." -Madeleine Albright

"There's no way I'm doing that," you rebuttal, "Hotch? Tell them it's a ridiculous idea." He stays silent, but his mouth twitches slightly.

Oh, you son of a-

"Richards is a classic narcissist. The challenge of facing a tough, fearless, and intelligent woman will give him his high. Narcissists are drawn to goal-oriented women, women who are resilient, adaptable, yet decisive. Show him that you are a good listener, but don't praise him."

"Think of him like a wild animal," Spencer adds, "You don't feed zoo animals because they are unpredictable. Remember, narcissists have an extraordinary sense of self, and when you praise his ego, you enable his unstable and feeble mind. He doesn't hear praise; he hears how much better he is than you. If you don't feed the beast, he won't have the stamina to combat your confidence later."

"Once you disarm him, I'll come in and challenge his confidence," Hotch concludes.

Could you have said that less attractively? That would have been more helpful.

Aaron cheekily smirks as if reading your mind but quickly looks away. You wish you didn't blush so fast-that you had some sense to keep your emotions to yourself. In a second, your cheeks are rosy, and you are convinced that everyone in the room can perceive your feelings as if you wrote them on little notes and passed them around.

You grunt and roll your eyes, "I hate all of you."

Derek snaps his fingers at you, "Lose the jacket."

"All men are pigs," you spit while removing your blazer, leaving you in a fitted tank top and your tight-legged jeans that hug your curves in all of the right places.

Derek wolf whistles at you, and you hurl your jacket at him. Aaron lets his eyes slide up and down your body, his gaze lasting longer than it should. He swears that as you stride into the interrogation room, your hips swing a bit farther side to side than usual. It is the very action that radiates courage, a mind coupled perfectly with itself and the world around it, concentrated and solemn.

Typically, Hotch would divert the task of adulating a narcissist to Prentiss, but he knows if anyone can take command of someone's attention, it's you. How does he know? Because you captivate him far more often than he cares to admit, defying his very being with every interaction. You are a secret weapon that he wants to keep concealed until you can allow your talents to shine genuinely. Aaron knows that now is your moment. ++++ "What is it that I am being accused of? Fraud? Embezzling?" The sharp-dressed businessman questions; his gaze is straying further below your eyes than you care for.

Pig.

You throw a file down on the medal table, and it slides across, stopping right in front of the man, successfully redirecting his stare somewhere other than your chest.

"Try murder."

His eyes widen, "You're joking. Come on, where are the hidden cameras? I'm ready for you to yell candid camera now! I am Milton Richards, for god's sake!"

"I don't know!" You shrug your shoulders. "Why don't you explain this to me, Mr. Richards. I'm just as confused as you are. What reason could a successful, charming, handsome, wealthy business mogul like yourself possibly have to kill someone?"

"Oh please," Richards scoffs, "This isn't an interrogation. You've already pegged me as guilty."

"I don't agree, but you have the right to feel how you feel."

He purses his lips, leaning as far away from you as physically possible while handcuffed to the table.

"Milton, why did you try to escape a moving vehicle when my team apprehended you?"

"Just felt like it, I guess," he shrugs mockingly.

"So, something just randomly compelled you to flee the custody of a federal agent?"

Richards leers at you. You stand up and walk around the table, leaning down next to him, "I get it. I do. You're a suave, wealthy, and ruthless business tyrant. You have to cover your tracks-do what it takes to survive."

He raises his eyebrow, turning to face you, your faces mere inches from each other. I got you now.

"Trust me. I know probably better than anyone what it takes to maintain a position you fought your entire life for. I'm a woman; I had to claw my way into the F.B.I. Do you think it's easy being surrounded by a team filled with uncontrolled testosterone? Womanhood requires balls; I see you keep your balls in your pants, cool, cool. Mine are on my chest, up top. As you've so duly noticed."

His eyes flicker to the aforementioned area, and you restrain yourself from gagging.

"And you know what, Richards? I use them every day of my life. Because in my line of business, sometimes I have to take the backdoor to get things done. Why do I get the sense that you were the same way before you became Mr. Wolf of Wall Street? How else does a kid who grew up in the projects become a multi-millionaire mogul by 27?"

"We both know what the other is capable of. C'mon, let's show each other a bit of respect here. No games, let's be upfront with each other," you appeal. ++++ Aaron watches as you work the room like it is your stage. You play the part perfectly. He admires your ability to absorb things and then responded rather than immediately react to douse firey circumstances rather than add to the flames.

Derek finds himself next to Aaron, smugly observing Aaron's visible fascination with you.

"She's fantastic, Hotch," Derek beams with pride. Hotch holds his breath behind pursed lips in an attempt to barricade himself from the feelings of foolish jealousy he feels creeping up.

I know she is. I think I recognize it a little too well.

Aaron knows that Derek will be scrutinizing his reaction to the commendation and refrains from responding.

Of course, Derek reads this lack of a reaction as a response itself. And he finds it strangely amusing. ++++ "Here's what I think happened," you twirl your finger around the manilla file, "I think you were having some money troubles and your top investors caught onto your little games. When you sat down, you volunteered the crimes fraud and embezzlement as reasons you assumed we brought you into custody. You listed them like they are apparent reasons for us to charge you. Those are two areas you are clearly willing to take the fall for and have cause to oblige by."

Opening the file, a photograph is revealed within of a murder victim. Richards shifts uncomfortably in his seat, stifling a cough.

"Do you know this man?"

"N-no," he claims as his eyes flutter from the photo to his hands.

Surprised by his blatant tell, you glance back at the two-way mirror.

Turning back to the suspect with a newfound spark in your eyes, you press harder, "Strike one. Try again."

"Excuse me?"

"The man in the image is Walter Barone, the C.E.O. of Jameson Whitely Associates...your accounting firm. Your company was going bankrupt, Milton. There was nowhere left for you to turn. So, do you want to try that again? This time, answer my questions directly and honestly."

"Walt had a reserve saved for me worth $5 million. Last week when I approached him about dipping into the fund to keep the company afloat, he withheld it. I wouldn't kill him for it, though."

"Well, see, that's the problem here, Milton. When he was found, that little reserve of yours was nowhere to be found. Naturally, you can assume where my mind goes when I try and put two and two together, right?"

"I told you," he says, clearly provoked by your accusation, "I wouldn't...didn't kill him."

"Wasn't it you, in your book, right? Who said, 'It's surprising what a man will do when properly motivated?' I don't know about you, but losing everything you'd ever worked for and having your one saving grace held from you seems like pretty good motivation."

Silence. "Oh, come on, Milton, now is not the time to act so arrogant!"

He slams his fists on the table; you abstain from being startled in an attempt to show him no fear.

Wild animals can smell fear.

"Arrogant, huh? Why don't you step up and prove me wrong? Prove you're better than me. You despise me for being successful; I despise you for your assumption that you could waltz in here like a tramp and seduce me into giving myself up. What? Too harsh? I'm not sure you and I are even the same species."

Hotch bursts into the room, and you quickly signal for him to stand down. I've got this.

He gives you a prideful wink. I know you do.

Somehow Aaron being in the room gives you that last little push to conclude this grand performance of yours. Slowly, you begin clapping dramatically for his little one-person comedy act. He certainly knows how to play the fool.

"Is that a dare? Challenge accepted. Your entire life, you have suffered from a disease... a fragile ego. You have built these walls of detachment so that you can conveniently solicit status to hide your true, weak self. You lash out because you feel it compensates for your insecurities."

"The truth is, despite being at the top of the corporate chain, every day you lead the life of a loser. You are willing to destroy people psychically, emotionally, and mentally. And you view that as a cause for celebration. You are the embodiment of a loser and abject failure."

Hotch touches the small of your back; you shiver at the sudden warmth that fills your body in reaction to it. He hands you a piece of paper, one that seals Richards' conviction.

"Milton Richards, you are under arrest for the murder of Walter Barone, Hank Simmons, Frankie Lisbon, and Jillian Ryder."

Hotch motions for you to do the honors.

"By all means, lead the way."

Holding yourself proud and tall, you waltz over to Milton and hoist him out of his chair. Inclining your lips to his ear, you tell him contemptuously, "You lose." ++++ "Way to go, superstar! You had us all on the edge of our seats," Derek says, wrapping his muscular arms around you. You breathe in his cologne and savor the sensation of being in his arms.

Since the day you met Morgan, you've felt a draw to him. Not in a romantic way, though you proudly admit he is hands-down one of the most gorgeous men to set foot on earth. He gives you the feeling of safety, warmth, and brotherly love. His hugs rejuvenate you after a long day of work, and you see to it that neither of you leaves the office without receiving your signature embraces.

Aaron observes you and Derek's shared embrace from the shelter of his office. Before he can comprehend his movements, his legs carry him to the terrace overlooking the bullpen.

What do you think you're doing, Hotch? Pull yourself together. They’re friends. Just like you and her are.

Dismissing his inner voice of reason, he calls out to you, "Y/L/N. See me in my office."

You grimace at his tone of voice but abide by his request.

Derek chuckles, "Green is not that man's color."

"What?" You turn to him, confused.

"Goodnight, superstar."

"Night, handsome," you blow him a kiss, trying to brush his comment out of your mind. ++++ "You summoned?"

Aaron's whiskey-colored eyes meet yours. The tempo of your heart quickens like a metronome.

"You did a phenomenal job in there."

"I've learned from the best." You. I've learned from you.

He clears his throat, "Those things you said...a-about the men on this team. Is that how you truly feel?"

Shocked by his willingness to believe such a misleading statement, you gasp and close the distance between the two of you.

You must have some nerve to believe that I would ever view you as anything other than the most upstanding man I've ever met.

"Aaron, what I said in there is further than the truth than I would have liked to have strayed. In fact, it was with you that I finally felt equal as a human being-like someone recognized me for my intellect and self-worth. A woman can't acquire that regardless of how 'equal' this world claims to be."

Aaron finds himself lost in your eyes, absorbing every meaning behind your words.

"It was a freeing feeling having someone I respect so highly show me similar respect."

No. Don't stop talking. Please. Hotch blushes at his inner monologue, incapable of comprehending precisely what kind of influence you hold on him.

"Anyway," you laugh, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen in your face, "Sorry for my little tangent."

"No," Hotch interjects firmly, "Never apologize for expressing your feelings. I assured you last year that I'll always be available as a sounding board for you. That offer still stands."

Your gaze softens as you study him, his intentions, his mannerisms. He notices your pupils dilate, and it commences a chain reaction within his veins. To him, it's not the fact that you radiate beauty on the outside. Sure, you are physically fit and put in the effort to maintain your appearance. Naturally, that would be why someone like Derek Morgan would have you on his radar.

But, Aaron has gradually grown accustomed to the kindness that you seem to reserve just for him. He sees the differences between how you act around the team versus when you step inside his office or are alone in the car with him, even the way your confidence elevates when he walks into the interrogation room.

These differences aren't unique to just you, though. Aaron notices the same changes in himself when he is around you. Never did he expect to go home from work and lie in bed thinking about the way your eyes strayed on his for a moment too long, or how as he completed paperwork at his desk, he'd replay in his mind a cheesy joke you told the team. He knows how you like your coffee from observing you in the break room one too many times.

One cream, two sugars.

Your laughter warms his body from the inside out. When you talk about your favorite comic book with Prentiss and Morgan, the twinkle in your eye never fails to bring a smile to his face. He knows that you hate getting out of the car when it rains because your perfectly straightened hair that you spent god knows how long on will undoubtedly curl.

His changes were less evident on the outside. But, he knew that deep down, there is something there that wasn't there before.

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