#like no? you don’t…? I don’t understand that line is it supposed to make me feel this way or am I supposed to feel bad for her.
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Feel Me
pairing: azriel x reader
warnings: swearing, sexual descriptions, tensionnnn, cocky!az , minors DNI
summary: Fae males don’t make love like the sweet boys you knew in the human lands. Fae’s fuck.
based of the request in [ part 1 ]
—
No one else was supposed to be home.
Rhys and Feyre had left long before the morning dew could mist over the lawn. Cassian and Nesta had slipped out hours ago with their leathers on and hair neatly braided after a steaming cup of coffee.
Buttered pancakes steam on a plate, bacon sizzles on the stove and your hips sway in tandem with whatever bouncy song your humming. Strawberry stumps grow in a pile to your left, knife slicing at ripe fruit contentedly until a sneaky wisp of darkness snatches a piece for its master. “You planning on sharing?”
“Depends on how nicely you ask.”
Azriel doesn’t bite, he only raises a brow with a smirk growing at the corner of full lips. “Was it polite words that initiated Elain’s legs straddling your waist the other night?” Shock shoves the ability to form a sentence out the window and you despise the way your eyes linger on the mess of dark hair atop his head—thoughts wandering to less than respectable places when picturing other ways to muss up soft strands. “Bacon’s burning.”
A frustrated scoff pulls from your throat, a blush fanning across your cheeks and gratefulness floods your chest when you actually have something to busy your hands with to avoid Azriel’s honeyed stare. “Not that it’s any of your business,” You hiss, avoiding spattering oil while forking meat from the pan. “But, I was just helping out a friend.”
“Helping?” His morning voice was sinful; a low rasp coupled with lazy lids and a t-shirt that fit entirely too well.
“I offered sound advice.” The house cleans while you plate, stealing berry stumps as a warm rag is ran over the countertops. Hot water is poured in a mug, a tea bag string twirled around the handle. Azriel’s already next to you, twisting open the honey jar and passing it over before you can reach for it. “I demonstrated to ensure a thorough understanding—nothing more.”
“And what exactly were you demonstrating?”
“Like I said, it’s none of your business.” Syrup drowned pancakes are shoved into your mouth, favoring the possibility of choking on fluffy goodness over engaging in this conversation for a second longer.
Azriel doesn’t feel the same way, blocking off your hasty exit with his body. Was he always this tall? Giant wings hover behind him and they rustle softly when you reach out a hand to gently push him away. It was a mistake on your part—initiating physical contact because now all you could focus on was the warmth that ebbed through the soft cotton of his shirt and the hard muscles hiding beneath it. “Make it my business.”
You don’t pull away, too entranced with the smell of him. The feel of his body against your fingertips. The barely there distance that toed the line of entirely too close. “I don’t understand why you’d even care.” You mutter, snatching your hand away when you catch yourself subconsciously rubbing at the dark fabric. “I was—“ Words stammer, breath catching over the intensity of his stare and you have to will your voice to steady itself. “I was teaching her how to properly be intimate with a male.”
“I didn’t realize there was a proper way.”
“You know what I mean,” You ramble, obviously flustered when swatting away the inky fog that attempts to swipe crispy bacon from your plate. “She asked for advice and I gave a few tips to make her feel more confident—more comfortable. I was being friendly.” The pancakes have started to go cold around the edges but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Azriel keeps stalking closer, arms boxing you into the counter with ease.
“Hm,” His face is unreadable, void of any emotion but your certain his eyes go just a touch darker when you lean back, your shirt rising; broadcasting a sliver of your stomach and the pale blue panties peeking out of your sleep shorts. “And if I wanted some friendly advice—would you help me with that too?”
Breakfast is long forgotten, your eyes following the plate being pushed away by hands much bigger than your own. A shaky laugh emits, strands of your hair tickle at your cheeks and you’re painfully aware of your attire—or lack thereof judging by hardened peaks poking through delicate silk. “Az, you’re no blushing virgin. What could I possibly help you with?”
Cool shadows trace over bare legs, teasing up your calves and curling around your knees. “I can think of a few things.”
A predatory darkness coats every word, lids narrowing challengingly at you from above. There’s nowhere to run and truthfully you didn’t want to; falling into the trap of his insinuations until the smell of your arousal was becoming anything but subtle. But, then again, who fucking cared when this was exactly what you’d been craving for as long as you could remember. Filthy little fantasies about the Illyrian soldier had plagued your mind for decades. You were reduced to haughty looks and bitten lips while he sparred shirtless with Cassian, sweat gleaming against his chest and the sharp ring of swords colliding. Dirty desires that flared when you’d bump into Az late at night, his hair messy and eyes hazy—that lazy smile and those pet names that he’d let slip when he was too tired to overthink them.
Could it have been possible that Elain had been right?
That you just needed to look to find what you were yearning for.
You pray you don’t appear as desperate as you feel when your eyes scan his own; sifting through the shades of warm caramel and burnt sephia as if they’d shift into mystical beings with endless answers to your list of questions. “Such as?”
“Maybe,” The syllables are drawn out with a sing-songy lilt that has your legs shifting. “—we can start with why you thought she’d be using your tricks and charms on me?” You blame the breeze sifting through the curtains on the shiver that rakes up your spine.
The counter is cold when you lift yourself onto it, palms flat and back curving against the window pane. You shrug, breaking the eye contact and turning your head to face the flying creatures fluttering their feathery wings in the bird bath. “I hadn’t considered it’d be anyone else. You and Elain spend lots of time together and she’s obviously beautiful in that delicate, sweetheart in need of saving sort of way.”
“Careful, you almost sound jealous.”
“I am not jealous,” Well, not anymore. But, he didn’t need to know that you’d ever wasted a second of sleep on him. “It was just an observation.”
“A poor one.”
“Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m not going after your job.” Your arms cross over your chest, knees childishly nudging at the top of his thighs to push him away but he remains steady like a brick wall. Irritation pushes the fluttery twist of yearning out of the way the longer Azriel peers down at you with that look in his eye—that stupidly handsome smirk plastered on his annoyingly kissable lips. “Any other questions you’d like to interrogate me with?”
The vitriol in your tone only furthers the grin on his face, eating up the fluctuating emotions he pulls from you like a full course meal. “Just one more.” A breeze shifts through the open window, cutting through the strands of your hair and the smell of your conditioner permeates the space between you. “How much longer must I wait for you to pursue me before I have to take you for myself?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Beg all you’d like but not for your pardon.” It’s said so swiftly your brain barely registers the suggestive nature of it before he’s talking again. Sweeping you up in the whirlwind that was Azriel and all you could do was hold on tight for the ride. He obtains a boldness you could only dream of, hips jutting forward between your legs to keep you from slipping away; closing the distance until his wants and desires are anything but unclear when pressed so firmly against you. “How much longer?
You swallow, the movement tracked by a hunters stare as you scramble to pull together a coherent sentence. “I suppose that depends.”
“On what?”
“On if you have any almost lovers that you’re still pining after?” Shadows glide over the countertop, sneaking behind you and urging you forward. Silky sleep shorts shuffle upwards with the motion and Azriel’s wastes no time in his exploration. Warm hands rake up the length of your legs leisurely, tracing over barely there scars and memorizing moles many overlooked. “Or do you only want me because you’ve never had me?”
Tension hold thick in the air, heavy mugginess that coats your skin with an uncomfortable warmth as you and Az sized each other up—waiting to see who’d break first.
The odds didn’t seem to be swaying in your favor.
“Never had you?” Azriel repeats as if you’ve told a joke, confidence roaring in his veins from the reactions your body offers him. Goosebumps follow the tantalizing trail of his fingers up your legs, thighs subconsciously shifting wider, granting access for more of his body to touch against your own. “Every time I close my eyes, I have you.” He has to know the effect this has on you. That must be why he insists on stealing your backbone and converting it into a makeshift leash until you’re completely pliant in his grasp. “Not exactly conventional. Nowhere near comparable the real thing, I’m sure.” A wicked gleam twinkles in his eyes, his hard chest the perfect contrast against the softness of your own. “But, it’s certainly served to be good practice.”
“Azriel—“
“How much longer should I wait?”
The barely restrained need he emits makes your stomach clench. Forces your eyes to dart from his own to his mouth; lingering, lusting.
Fuck, not much longer at all. It felt like the clock was ticking and with each second that passed, your fate grew nearer and nearer.
Instinct speeds up the process, nudging you closer until the tip of your nose brushes against his own. It’s cautious—exploratory. Testing what was allowed and what wasn’t but Azriel’s patience only stretches so far and waiting for this—for you—is an impossible task.
His mouth covers yours in a claiming clash of eager lips and hands desperate to learn the shape of you.
You’re no better, nails raking through inky strands and scouring the strong slope of his shoulders like a woman starved. A relieved sigh tickles at his skin when he kisses over your cheeks, down your neck; until that spot just below your ear forces out low whines. “Az,” Your chest heaves, lungs struggling for a full breath. “Someone will see us.”
Azriel groans, lips searching for the spots that shut you up. The spots that had your spine curving and leg hooking over his waist. You lean back, anticipating the cool chill of the wall but all you meet is soft sheets and fluffy pillows as inky shadows disperse around the room. “Better?”
“Almost.” Eager fingers grip at the offending fabric hiding golden-brown skin beneath, attempting to yank it free. “Take this off.”
“You’re not this demanding in my dreams.”
“And in mine, your mouth isn’t really used for talking.”
Azriel’s efficient in adjusting to your suggestions, tearing apart soft silk as if it were nothing more than a piece of parchment in his quest of baring more of you to him. Hips buck up and nails dig into the hard-earned muscles of his back while his mouth sucked marks across your chest. Warm hands dip under the waistband of your shorts, back curving softly in anticipation as preening little moans cut through the darkness of Azriel’s bedchambers.
When he finally touches where you need him most, teeth sink harshly into the fat of your bottom lip; the feeling of his fingers dragging slow circles over the thin cotton of your underwear becoming the perfect torture. It feels too good to ponder on about the arousal soaking through your delicates or the desperate pleas for more that tumbles from your lips like sinful prayers.
Any remaining clothing falls carelessly to the floor, the hard length of him resting at the crux of your thighs. “Are you sure?”
“Don’t I feel sure?” Your brows are a little pinched when you stare up at him, a hand wedging between your bodies to guide the swollen head of his cock to your entrance.
“You feel like mine,” Az confesses hoarsely. Inch by deliciously devastating inch is pushed to the brim, hazel eyes transfixed on the snug wrap of your pussy and the warmth that follows. “Like you were fucking made to take my cock.”
He was better than you’d ever pictured, stealing your very breath away with each dragged out stroke. “Az,” His gaze is heavy, sliding up to meet your own with dark promise casting shadows against god-like features. “Please, just move.”
“Here I was trying to get you properly adjusted,” A biting grip begins at your waist, fingers digging precious prints into your hips as Azriel positions you as he pleases. Bare thighs are braced in the crease of his arms, a cocky smirk ghosting his face. “But you just wanna be fucked.” Eyes roll behind fluttering lids when the pace picks up, the position forcing you to take every inch until all you can offer is choked moans and garbled praises.
Claiming marks are placed wherever Azriel’s mouth can reach, muffled groans and deep grunts of pleasure vibrating against your skin as he carves out a space specifically made for him. You don’t last long, lips searching for his own as you clench around the length of him; toes curling and manicured nails biting at the base of his wings.
“There you go,” He croons, gently tucking stray hairs away from your face—a complete juxtaposition from the relentless way his cock fucks into you. “Taking me so well.”
Bleary eyed and boneless you are in his grasp; allowing him to act on every secret fantasy and salacious desire he'd harbored longer than he could remember until you feel the vicious twitch inside you, his hips stuttering and seed spilling.
The room reeks of sex, sheets sodden and clothes too ruined to walk out of there wearing them without looking like you belonged in a pleasure hall.
Not that it would matter—Azriel won't let you go now; hooked like an addict to their drug of choice. "You were wrong, you know." Your brow raises in silent question. "Now that I've had you, I can't see myself ever wanting anything else."
#acotar x reader#acotar azriel#azriel#acotar x you#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel acotar#acotar fic#acotar fanfiction#az smut#az x reader#azriel smut#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#acotar series#azriel x reader smut#az x reader smut#az fic#azriel fix
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i’ve been trying to get through hoh for literally like a week now but it’s so hard bc the way my fave nico is treated is absolutely ABYSMAL and i know it only gets worse
#personal#even hazel being like ‘yeah he’s hard to get along with’ or whatever she said#every single non-tartarus perspective has had at least one reference to this#and like i understand the reasons it’s not that it’s that it highlights this issue i have with a lot of the characters in that series which#is that i don’t like them. and that’s so different for me bc i actually usually find that my two favorite characters in anything are the tw#that don’t like each other? unrelated to that dynamic usually mostly but still within it#but that’s not even what the dynamic is yk.#and it’s just the whole thing overall like in the last book there was one part where these two characters who are supposed to be good#friends are separated and one makes a comment about how annoying (or something along those lines) she finds the other which.#i’m vaguely aware of what happens in toa so i think you could argue something about that but read on its own bc i don’t want to make that#argument without fully grasping where her character goes#it just kinda reinforces this… vibe to the whole series that was not nearly as present in the first series of like. really overemphasized#like gender roles/heterosexuality/etc. i can’t think of the word to use to describe it. i’ve seen other ppl talk about the parts that add u#to the whole that i’ve seen but never synthesize them. and it really varies between actually insidious and simply not my taste which is par#of the reason i hesitate to make a full critique out of it. but suffice to say i really don’t like it#with that being said the pacing of this book is really good and i am compelled to finish based on the themes i do find interesting#autonomy being a huge one#but anyway those are my thoughts on it after a few days of a break. i’ve been playing a video game instead :3 but i start work on wednesday#sooo i won’t have as much free time boo#looking back maybe ‘insidious’ is a very strong word for it. i’m talking about like when percy complains about the bag and similar moments
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Marlene could have told Ellie alllllllll about her mom and she never did :) 🔪
#prefacing by saying I never played the game and idk much about it/how it’s different#but anyway:#like I’m sure being an orphan in that universe is very common#like ellie probably just grew up thinking her parents died and not that they gave her away/didn’t want her or anything#but marlene could have confirmed all of that for ellie and told her all about her mom — her best friend#like ellie could have grown up knowing about her mom. bare minimum who she was and what she was like#instead of literal nothingness. probably not even a name.#it just makes me so sad#and it makes me angry when marlene says she ‘knows best of all’ or whatever right after basically sentencing ellie to death#like no? you don’t…? I don’t understand that line is it supposed to make me feel this way or am I supposed to feel bad for her.#because I don’t#and ellie asking Joel in the car if Marlene is okay? girl why do you care#she dumped you off at military orphan school and locked you in a room for three weeks after you had to kill your best friend#idk if they wanted to make Marlene Joel’s foil they could have made her more likeable to make it all more heartbreaking ya know
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“Cyberbullying can cause debilitating fear, destruction of self-esteem, social isolation, poor academic performance. It can also lead to difficulty in forming healthy relationships and most importantly, victims can develop severe symptoms of post-traumatic stress, anxiety and depression.”
#incase people don’t know 😌#calling me names is just my final straw#there is a way to tell me if you think i copied from you ( i would delete right away and still would)#this doesn’t mean you should publicly humiliate me spread rumors and lies and call me names#not a single soul has asked me to delete not one#everyone just wants to add to the post and make fun of me#i mean why else wouldn’t they not ask me to delete the post(s) in question#but it’s not okay and i am done being treated this way#i just don’t get why they think it’s okay to treat someone like this#how am i supposed to know i copied you if i don’t know the post i literally had no clue people were still saying this stuff about me#this is such a shock because i really was trying hard to be original all this time which is why i mostly left the anime fandom#but those people still want to attack me regardless whatever i do it’s wrong#after all this time i have a right to stand up for myself#the biggest question is why wouldn’t you want me to delete the gifs you think i copied from? wouldn’t that be the best way to handle it?#why wouldn’t you want my so called copied gifs removed from the site instead publicly humiliate me#i don’t have any idea but if someone came to me and it was similar i would delete and still would!#i can’t understand it but just know i would never belittle you or give you an attitude or drama i would just delete and it’s sad that#people just assumed i would act this way. no if there is a similar gif to my gifs i will delete i can’t know which ones they are though so#it’s honestly a shame that no one came to me and asked me to delete because i would have and still would#i draw the line a year later when i am being called names and stalked and harassed when i am minding my own buisnesss#I WOULD AND STILL WOULD DELETE ANY GIFS THAT BOTHER ANY GIFMAKER AT ANY TIME PAST PRESENT OR FUTURE#I tried to see what someone said recently about me but I couldn’t see the post so I don’t know what gifs they are talking about that#I supposedly copied so I couldn’t even know what it is or delete instead I have this trouble#once again i say please tell me or show me your gifs i will delete mine i am super sorry if anyone thinks i did that on purpose recently it#makes me feel really bad because i had no idea and i don’t want any gifmakers to feel bad about my gifs#like even just tell me to delete and i will you don’t even have to show me your gifs i will take your word to avoid any confrontation#or trouble :/#tbh no matter what i say about the situation people will still call me names and say i am all these things
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underground fighter wriothesley who absolutely melts whenever you patch him up n place the softest kisses over his bruises n stuff :((
- 🦋 anon
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ WE, NOT I — WRIOTHESLEY.
contents. underground fighter! wriothesley, gn! reader (he gifts you flowers, perfume and a necklace though, so if that is fem! coded to you, there’s your warning), mentions of foster care and being orphaned (wriothesley), mentions of blood, bruises, and injuries (wriothesley), slight angst but overall fluff ending
money’s tight—has been for a while, actually. wriothesley doesn’t like to talk about it, doesn’t like to open up even though he knows you won’t think any less of him. but you notice the small things, always do.
it’s the way you buy groceries for two, the way he’s always over for dinner one way or another, the way he seems to spend more and more time at your place than his. money’s tight, even if he doesn’t like to admit it—and you could never force it out of him, but you think letting him stay with you while he can could help ease the burden of living even if a little.
he’s grateful—a little roundabout in the ways he shows it, but grateful all the same.
and then the presents start to come.
it’s small at first: those expensive macarons you like from that bakery, the bouquet of roses that couldn’t be cheap, a nice dinner he insists he can pay for every once in a while. and then it starts to get bigger: fancy tea from the side of town neither of you even think about shopping at, perfume from a brand you can’t even pronounce, a necklace that’s more than what you can afford yourself.
it starts out slow, and then all at once, wriothesley has what you imagine to be more money than he knows what to do with. because why else spoil you like this? why else blow money on things for you when he could be putting it towards himself?
not everyone gets to have a head start at life—wriothesley is proof of that. it’s hard, more than most people realize, to be orphaned so young and move through foster home after foster home. he’d gone to jail once too—he doesn’t talk about that either, and you never ask. it’s hard, more than anyone gives him credit for, to be knocked down by life so many times and make a living for yourself.
you can’t understand where the sudden change comes from, can’t pinpoint where along the line he started getting so comfortable. it’s not unwelcome, you would never want to watch him just barely scrap by, but it concerns you how he seems to have so much all at once.
and then you get your answer.
“what—what happened to you?” you ask in disbelief, eyeing the blood caked by his nose and around his knuckles. that’s the best of it, unfortunately—the gashes on his chest and the bruises somehow look even worse.
you’d consider him lucky that his ribs don’t seem cracked.
“just a fight,” he shrugs, not meeting your eyes. wriothesley is a lot of things: resourceful, conniving at times, and braver than most. good at lying is not one of them, however—at least not with you. “just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“where were you, then?” you challenge, staring at him hard enough that he doesn’t have to meet your eyes to shuffle uncomfortably in his spot. he doesn’t answer. you’re almost fed up. “wriothesley,” you say in a warning tone.
there’s a sense of finality he doesn’t like.
“what happened to wrio, sweetheart? you’re killin’ me here, i come home to you all bruised up and you’re here beating me down harder—”
“wriothesley, i’m worried about you,” you whisper tiredly. it’s defeated—it’s almost helpless. he frowns, finally looking up at you from his place between your legs as you sit on the bathroom counter.
“you don’t have to be,” he mumbles, “i can take care on my own. i always have.”
“there’s no being on your own when we’re together,” you shake your head. your hands fall to either side of your body, shoulders slumping in exhaustion. “don’t you understand? neither of us is supposed to be on our own anymore—not when the other is here.”
“yeah,” he crosses his arms—you try to ignore the wince he lets out as he moves, “and now you’re not handling things on your own anymore. i’m carrying my weight. just need to fight a guy or two.”
“you’re carrying your weight by fighting?” you blink at the realization. he doesn’t look you in your eyes, keeping them trained on the floor again. “oh my god—is that what these are from? because….because you’re fighting some punks in the middle of the night? that’s illegal—and you could get in trouble again—”
he doesn’t seem to like being reminded of his past. that’s clear when he clicks his teeth and glares at you. “and what am i supposed to do, stay cooped up in your place and eat your food?” he asks bitterly, making your brows furrow.
“not necessarily, but you can—”
“what, so i just live paycheck to paycheck and shower at your place and sleep in your bed so my water and electricity bills aren’t too high for the month?”
“wrio—”
“i’m earning, aren’t i? what’s the big deal?”
“the big deal is this,” you wave your hand exasperatedly, tears welling up by the lash line of your eyes as you stare at his bruises with trembling lips, “look at you. it’s not worth it if you come back to me like this.”
“but i come back,” he mumbles, taking your hand—he kisses the knuckles, rubs a rough thumb over the smooth skin before laying your palm against his cheek and sighing. “i always come back.”
you love wriothesley—have since the day you met him, you think. he’s easy to fall for like that, to feel your stomach go in twists and knots every time he makes a sarcastic joke and throws you a charming smile. life has been tough on the man you love, unfairly so. it’s hit him harder and harder and pushed him back to his knees before he ever got a chance to fully stand up.
he’s hitting back, now. maybe in a more literal sense than you’d hoped, but….but maybe you can help him if you can’t change him. maybe you can keep the pieces together until the plaster holds and they’re not so fragile anymore.
“i don’t like seeing you hurt,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss the broken skin on his cheekbone, “you don’t have to do all this. we were doing okay before that.”
we. he shudders at that. it’s always we and never i—even when you did all the heavy lifting. even when he was barely getting by and you were giving more than you should’ve had to, more than he should’ve needed. it’s always we. never i.
you and him.
“i know,” he melts, humming as your fingers thread into his tousled hair, scratching his scalp as he buries his face into your neck, “just let me save a bit more. and then i’ll do something real with myself. i promise.”
you pull away after a bit, taking in every bruise and every cut, every dry patch of blood and swollen patch of skin. it’s shaky at first, your voice when you finally speak.
“‘s all bruised,” you say quietly, running a finger over the marks littering his chest. he’s painfully still—doesn’t move a muscle as you lean in slowly and press a kiss to the purplish stain on his skin, gently trailing them to the next one, and the next one, and the next one. “you don’t deserve all this.”
“yeah?” he chuckles—its breathy, a little strained. your arms loop around his waist and bring him closer, “what a sweet thing,” he coos, “nobody ever treats me so gentle.”
you frown at that. the world is not gentle with wriothesley—you’ll have to be extra gentle to make up for it.
“you’ll be safe? you’ll pull out when it’s too much, right? and you’ll come back? without being too hurt, right? wrio, you can’t—”
“yeah, yeah, i got it,” he huffs, pressing his forehead to yours, letting your hands cup his cheeks. he leans closer to your touch, shudders as you slowly trace his cheek with your thumb, “just wait at home all pretty for me, yeah? i’ll bring you back something nice.”
“bring me back yourself in once piece,” you huff.
“done,” he smiles, “i’m strong, if you haven’t noticed.”
“yeah? explain this,” you challenge, pressing down on a bruise and making him wince.
“you should see the other guy,” he whines, burying his face back into your neck. you roll your eyes, there’s a scoff in your throat but a smile on your lips.
wriothesley is safe—for now, that’s all you can ask for.
“i love you,” you mumble, “so much. no matter what, okay?”
“no need to get so emotional on me, baby,” he chuckles—and then there’s a tightening of strong arms around your body, a kiss pressed delicately to your neck before a soft, “but i love you too” is murmured into your skin.
“i hope you’re ready to clean those cuts. they’ll sting for sure,” you grumble as you pull away. he grins—handsome, charming, yours.
“will you kiss them better?” he bats his lashes, making you snort.
“no.”
i might make this a reoccurring drabble series too idk yet. anyway you know what else he can beat up ?? this pussy ;)
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley fluff#wriothesley x you#wriothesley angst#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin fluff#genshin angst#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact angst#wrio x reader#wrio x you#wrio fluff#wrio angst
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𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! fluff, suggestiveness - talking about/hinting towards satoru fingering/eating you out but nothing happens, kissing, satoru fondly makes fun of you a lil, he also carries you around, collage au, collage student!reader, collage student!gojo
fey: I’m still gonna be on hiatus for a little longer but in the mean time have this fluff nugget inspired by my hubby
Satoru huffs and pokes your cheek till you swat his hand away. He flops on the bed next to you, the soft breeze and movement disturbing your carefully placed papers.
You whine “Satoru!”
“Sweet pie! You’ve been studying and working in that essay all day for the past three days please!” He throws his hand across his forehead, clutching his chest. “I beg of you feed me attention before I starve. I’m wilting away before you! How cold hearted can you be.” His eyes are with tears.
Tossing your throw blanket over him, “This should keep you warm.” You take you eyes off the screen to read the open text book next to you. Before referring to your notes then glancing back up at your computer screen.
He pops his head out from underneath the blanket with gasp. “No I’m not cold! You’re cold hearted!” He sits up and wraps his arms around you. “Please just an hour, we can order some food, take a shower get you out of your funky funk.” Pinching his nose and waving his hand in front of his face.
“You’re foul.”
You can hear the smile in his voice. “Like your armpits! Study starting break now! I your wonderful boyfriend refuse to let you be stinky.” He slowly closes the lid on the rough draft of your paper.“I’ll help you write some more after, if you don’t give your mind a break you’ll fry it and make it useless.” He kisses the top of your head.
“Let’s go lil’ stink!” He drags you off the bed, your feet dangle in the air as he holds you to his chest.
Squeezing you whilst you protest, “Hey you can’t steal that! I don’t wanna hear it from the one with the stanky attitude making me take a break for my health how dare you.” He carefully sets you down in the bathroom.
He waves a hand in your direction, “Yes yes, how dare I care for my beautiful girlfriend and rub her naked body down with my large soapy hands in a warm shower, that I as her perfect boyfriend know the temperature of.”
He lights some of the candles arranged around the bathroom. And starts the heater that he insists your bathroom needs. After not stepping into another cold bathroom after a hot shower you can understand why.
You rid yourself of your clothes, throwing them into the hamper. “Do you need to toot you own horn?” Relieving yourself then washing your hands.
Turning around and watching him strip. His arms flex as he pulls his black shirt off. His v line peeks out of his sweatpants, which he pushes down. Your gaze lingers on his soft cock and large balls before you glance up into his sparkling blue eyes.
He corners you against the counter, booping the tip of your nose with his long finger. “You’ve been neglecting me for days I might need to remind you what a awesome boyfriend I am! What if you’ve forgotten!” He pouts.
You slide your fingers through his soft silver white hair. Pulling him in, your lips close to his, “I could never forget, you won’t let me, but I suppose it’s part of your charm. I guess it’s kind of cute when you’re cocky.”
Satoru smirks into the slow passionate kiss he gives you. Lifting you up, reflexively you wrap your legs around his waist. It’s easy to forget everything when you’re kissing him. There is the safety of his arms, the sweet passion of his soft lips on yours.
When he breaks away Satoru suggests, “After our shower would it be too cruel of me to give my girl a happy ending? As some stress relief and reward for all her studying of course.” He massages your cheek. His large warm hand feels wonderful targeting your sore spots.
You softly groan, “Please! I don't know if I wanna ride your face, fingers or cock.”
“Why not all three one after another? I can suck on your pretty clit and let you cum on my fingers then I can fill you up.” He carries you into the warm shower, supporting you with one hand. Closing the curtain behind himself.
He stands underneath the warm water, steam billowing off it. “‘M sorry for not texting for three days, you know I’ve missed my amazing boyfriend, you’re just so talented at so many things like distracting me when I need to study.” He helps you onto your feet, placing your backside facing towards the rushing water.
He protests, “I can behave and help you study.” Pouring some of his favorite strawberry and sugar scented body wash onto his hand.
You close your eyes tilting your head back. Soaking your curls and letting the water wash over your face. The water melts away some of the tension building in your neck and shoulders.
You rub your right shoulder and winch whilst insisting, “You tell me that every time.” Turning around and stepping out of the water, closing your eyes. It’s relaxing knowing he’ll take care of you, from washing your body, to treating your curls to applying your face care.
Rubbing soap over your back and ass, leaving soapy white bubbles. He massages your shoulders whilst pleading his case, “Please lemme help you study! We have the same essay due and test to take. Our study sessions is how we got together I miss them.”
You softly sigh and cave in, “I miss them too, ok you win can stay, you’re too charming.”
He playful croons “I always win.” Kissing the top of your wet head. “You won't regret it I'll be the best study buddy!” You widely smile, the delight in Satoru’s voice is heartwarming.
#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#satoru gojo x you
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on my knees - choi seungcheol
masterlist
summary: your best friend and roommate is out of the country, and you come home to find nothing short of a disaster. who else would you have called but her brother?
word count: ~9k oops
a/n: I have no fucking clue what happened to me, but I just started writing and then didn't stop for like 4 hours so. here you go. you're welcome and also I'm sorry.
18+ MDNI!! warnings under the cut!
warnings: heavy kissing, seungcheol is the epitome of a Simp, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't), oral sex (f receiving), slight size kink, let me know if I missed something!
You had been best friends with Sua since you were both six years old. One of the older boys had pushed you onto the ground, wanting to be ahead of you in the line for the slide. Most of the other kids had laughed as tears started pouring down your cheeks, your knee rubbed red and raw and your pretty dress covered in dust and gravel.
“Are you really so immature you can’t even wait your turn?” a small voice had piped up.
Through the haze of your tears, you had seen a pretty black-haired girl kneel down to help you out. She had brushed away the worst of the dirt from your dress, and leaned in to look at your knee.
“I don’t know much about scrapes,” she said thoughtfully, “but I think you should clean it. That’s what my mom always says to me and my brother.” Then she smiled before standing up and glaring at the boy again. “You’re a poopyhead, and I will never play with you.”
Thinking back on it as adults, you always laughed at her phrasing; even more amusing was the way the little boy had taken Sua’s comment way too seriously and tried to fight her in the playground. Before any of the adults had been able to intervene, Sua’s older brother had stepped between the two of them menacingly, arms crossed across his chest. He was three years older, so the other boy quickly back-tracked when faced with Seungcheol’s nine-year old frame. After the little boy had run away out of fear, crying, the two siblings had helped you off the ground and to your parents.
The rest was history; playdates as children, study dates in middle and high school, and spending every single summer vacation together. You had gone from climbing trees to shopping at the mall, and from learning the alphabet to crying your way through chemistry together. Well, you more than her, but still. The suffering was mutual.
Your dynamic remained largely unchanged throughout the years. You were the crier, and Sua was the fixer. You hated the way you cried at the smallest inconveniences, and often felt bad for Sua for having to fix it, but she always said it was cute. She said you were just like that, and that was okay. Sua had her own quirks, mainly being quick to anger - you reassured her that you didn’t mind holding her back from fights and silencing her before she could yell insults at undeserving people, so really, you were the same. Just, you know, in a different way.
Another thing that never really changed was the way Seungcheol took care of the both of you. He helped out with homework when he could, taught Sua how to fight (truly a dubious decision considering her anger, but that was his business and not yours), and scared away any icky boys that were mean to you.
It was a very different dynamic to how other siblings seemed to act, but since you were an only child, you wouldn’t really know. Though, to be fair, he seldom held back the snarky comments when the opportunity presented itself. He would roll his eyes whenever you cried, call Sua an idiot when she didn’t understand a math problem, and generally be a dick when you played games together. It was all in good fun, you supposed.
Now, being 24 years old and two years out of college, Sua was your roommate and your rock. She was the one who put up with your generally messy habits and lack of cooking acumen, and she only complained once a month or so. In return, you were the one to make sure bills were paid on time and keep the freezer stocked with ice cream during the hot summer months. A symbiotic relationship, if you’d ever seen one.
You saw significantly less of Seungcheol, though he was far from an uncommon fixture in your household. He knew the code for the keypad on the door, so sometimes he just showed up unannounced to raid your kitchen and take a nap on your couch, but you didn’t mind. He did tend to fix anything that was broken and clean up whatever you couldn’t be bothered to, so the transaction was fair in your opinion.
One fateful Tuesday, you received a call during your lunch break at work. Usually, you wouldn’t answer, preferring to take your 45 minutes to scroll down your social media feeds aimlessly while eating your food, but Sua had always had special privileges, so you picked up anyway.
“Hey, sorry, I know I’m interrupting your scheduled vegetable time,” she started, and you snorted in response.
“I am not eating anything with vegetables in it, and I think you know it.” You were opening the store-bought lunchbox while speaking, your phone tucked between your elbow and your cheek.
“If I didn’t cook you dinner every day, you would have scurvy,” she shot back without a second’s hesitation. “No, dumbass, I meant your own brain-turning-to-vegetable time. Duh.”
“Oh, that,” you replied, unphased by her insults and generally snarky tone. You were used to it. And also kind of deserved it.
“Yeah. Well anyway, something came up at work and I’m gonna have to take an unscheduled work trip.”
“Cool. Where to?”
“Tokyo, so not that far,” she sighed, and you could picture her running her fingers through her hair. She never did well with unexpected travel plans. “I have to leave tonight. I just thought I’d let you know, so you can make plans to get takeout tonight.”
You scoffed down the line, placing a forkful of bulgogi in your mouth and chewing quickly. God bless convenience store lunchboxes. “I know how to take care of myself, mom.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you slob.” Again, you could picture Sua’s nose crinkling in disgust. “I’m kidding, by the way. I know you can take care of yourself. Just letting you know I’m leaving so you don’t think I’ve been kidnapped or killed or something.”
“Thank God I don’t have to deal with the paperwork for a missing person,” you deadpanned and took a drink of your Sprite. “No but for real, enjoy the trip. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”
“Thanks,” your best friend sighed back. “I’ll be back in a week or so. I’m gonna go home and pack now, so if anything’s a mess when you get home- actually, nevermind. That doesn’t bother you at all. Bye.”
“Hey-” you started to protest, but the line went dead and you rolled your eyes.
Well. At least now you could have sushi for dinner without having to listen to Sua complain about the smell of raw fish.
You were so ready to become a couch potato as soon as you came home. One of the new employees at work, Jun, had screwed up a pretty important document, so you’d had to stay late and help him fix it. It wasn’t his fault, he was still new, but you were tired nonetheless. You took your shoes off by the door and turned the lights on in the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on the counter before you heard it.
The water.
You had never had any issues with the pipes in your apartment, but something had obviously gone wrong with the pipes under the bathroom sink, because the floor was absolutely flooded. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly for a second, willing the problem to be miraculously gone as soon as you opened them again. Alas, no such luck.
The tears pressed behind your eyes, begging to make their escape. You tried to hold them back as you thought about what to do to solve the problem. The faucet wasn’t on, so it was definitely the pipes. Damn. You thought about calling the apartment management and asking for help, but their turnover time was two days at the best of times, and the office was already closed for the day. You heaved a deep sigh as you settled on the best option you could think of. You pressed the name in your contacts and begged the universe that he would pick up.
“What’s up?”
Seungcheol sounded relaxed and unbothered, and you could hear the chatter of a TV in the background. You hated to bother him, but hey, it was his little sister’s apartment too. You cleared your throat to try and get rid of the thickness in your throat brought on by the tears.
“Hey, Cheol,” you began, and you heard him sit up immediately and pause whatever was playing on the TV.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
He sounded worried; he usually only called you an endearment when he was worried or teasing you. Clearing your throat had evidently not been enough to get rid of the tears in your voice. Some of them finally escaped in tracks down your cheeks, and you swore, leaning your forehead against the doorframe.
“So uh, I just got home, and Sua isn’t here because she’s in Tokyo and I-”
“Y/N, I don’t care about Sua right now. I know she’s fine, she landed half an hour ago. What’s going on with you?”
“The guest bathroom is flooded, like completely, and I don’t know what to do.”
You heard the rustling of clothes and what sounded like keys jingling through the phone. “Jesus Christ, I thought you were fucking dying,” Seungcheol scolded, and you hiccupped a little, apologizing. “No, don’t worry darling, I’m coming over to help, okay?”
“Okay.”
You were sniffling, and you heard him curse under his breath. You hung up after a quick goodbye, and then you were left alone with the mess again. Looking closer, you realized that the bath mat was soaked along with a towel left on the floor. You sighed and took your socks off, deciding to do something productive while waiting for your knight in shining armor.
You took a picture and sent it to Sua, who replied immediately with a bunch of question marks and swear words directed to the apartment management. She also realized they would be no help at this hour. Great.
Once the soaked bath mat and towel were hung up and dripping into the tub as opposed to the flooded floor, you started clearing out some of the decorations that were taking up floor space. There was a giant plant, two laundry baskets, and a really heavy wooden dresser that held all your clean towels - you didn’t want the wood to rot.
You heard the door open while you were in the process of moving the plant. Honestly, you should have waited for Seungcheol to move this one; the plant was heavy as fuck and really awkward to carry, and you could feel your back protesting before you had even gotten it outside of the bathroom.
“What the hell, Y/N.”
The voice was closely followed by a pair of hands grabbing the plant from you and heaving it outside of the door in mere seconds. Showoff.
“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asked after placing the plant down on a towel, grabbing your upper arm gently. You nodded, and he sighed, squeezing your arm. “Let’s see the- oh fuck.”
You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Hysterically. The bathroom floor was covered in two inches of water, and the sound of more spraying out was echoing off the walls. Your best friend’s brother glared at you for two seconds before he started laughing too. It wasn’t funny, but it kind of was. How had this even happened? And how had Sua not seen anything when she was home to pack?
“Sorry, Cheol,” you giggled, wiping under your eyes to get rid of the tears that were still falling. Typical. “I, uh, wanted to move the plant and the dresser to make more room and-”
“Darling, that plant was almost heavier than you are. Not to mention that dresser. What were you thinking?”
His voice soothed your panic. He had been solving your problems for the past eighteen years, after all; this was nothing he couldn’t handle. He looked ruffled, you realized. He had been relaxing after a long day at work when you called, and had gotten to your apartment as fast as he could just to help you. And now he was here, being all nice and caring and calling you sweet names. You felt like a stupid child.
“I-I’m sorry. For calling you, I shouldn’t have, I-”
“Absolutely not. You can call me about anything at any time, you got that?” he asked sternly, gazing directly into your eyes. You swallowed, but nodded. His words gave you unwelcome butterflies, the intensity of his gaze making you look away.
“Got it,” you replied when a nod didn’t seem to be enough for him. “Uhm, so how do we deal with this?”
For a moment, the only sound you could hear was the steady spray of water coming from under the sink. You realized that all the products underneath would be useless now, and you would probably have to change out the entire cabinet housing the pipes. You felt a migraine start a steady throb against your temples, and you deflated even more, resting against the doorway.
“It’s okay, I’ll fix it for you, darling,” Seungcheol said softly, pulling you in for a hug. Your stomach erupted in butterflies again. You seriously needed some psychological help. “Just go change, okay? You must be exhausted.”
You shook your head, but relented when he lifted an eyebrow at you. You went to your room and closed the door. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at nothing. Your bathroom was flooded. And your best friend’s brother was helping you fix it, calling you sweet nicknames and saying shit straight out of a romance novel - as if your dumb crush on him needed any more encouragement. You sunk onto the edge of your bed for a moment, just breathing deeply and blinking back more tears. Enough was enough.
When you were fourteen or so, you’d had a crush on Seungcheol. Who wouldn’t? He was tall, pretty, smelled good, and helped you with your homework. Ever since then, it would come and go, usually at the most inopportune times. You appreciated his looks pretty often, particularly when he came over to fix stuff for you and Sua, but you tried not to think about it much - mostly out of self preservation. He was still pretty, still nice, still smelled good, and whenever you let your mind wander for more than five seconds, you knew you were in danger.
You definitely should get it under control. First of all, he had known you since you were six. He had seen all your weird phases, watched you find your own identity, and that came with some really cringy stuff. Additionally, you were his little sister’s best friend. You had some loyalty to her, sure, but more than anything you were sure that he saw you as an extra sister or something. Considering the amount of time you had spent at their house growing up, that would only be logical.
Armed with the reminder of why he would never be into you, you shook it all off. You located your regular home attire - bike shorts and a big t-shirt which origins you forgot - and put your hair up and out of your face. Then you steeled yourself again, vowing not to cry at the sight of the water, and walked back towards the accursed bathroom.
You found Seungcheol on his knees in front of the open cabinet from where the water came. He was hunched over, hand in front of him to block some of the water and seemingly looking for something. His white t-shirt had been sprayed with water, and it was sticking to his chest. You gulped at the sight, repeating that he saw you as an annoying crybaby to yourself in order to stop the stupid butterflies that had seemingly taken up permanent residence in your guts.
“Do you need a flashlight or something?” you asked timidly, making him look up at you. He paused and blinked at you once, twice, before clearing his throat and nodding. You got out your phone and turned the flashlight on, carefully stepping in behind him so as not to splash him.
“I, uh, think we need to remove this middle shelf from the cabinet,” he said, having positioned himself to shield you from the spray.
“Alright,” you replied, placing your phone to the side and leaning to grab the shelf before being stopped by one of his hands. He had placed it carefully on bare skin so as not to get your clothes wet. Damn him. “What? I’ll just grab it and get it out of the way for you.”
He scoffed. “You’ll get wet.”
Now it was your turn to blink at him stupidly, eyes wide and questioning. You could feel your cheeks burning, as did your arm where his hand was resting. This stupid, stupid man was going to make you fall in love with him, and that just couldn’t happen. At all.
“Who cares, Cheol? It’s just water. Let me get it out of your way, and I’ll hold the flashlight again, okay?”
He grimaced, but let go of your arm. You grabbed both sides of the shelf and lifted it. It took a bit of pressure, but eventually it came loose. You backed up slowly and brought the shelf over the tub with the soaked bath mat and dirty towel. Gross.
Even though you had been fast, Seungcheol had been right; your entire torso was soaked with water. You decided that you could do something about it after the leak was dealt with, and so you just ignored it and grabbed your phone again. Your friend was staring at your front with a wrinkle between his brows, mouth open a little, and you rolled your eyes affectionately.
“Cheol.” He looked up at you. “It’s fine. I know you wanted to shield me or whatever, but it’s just a shirt. Now please, help me solve this?”
He nodded wordlessly and turned back to the considerably more spacious cabinet, taking a deep breath. His pout was cute, and you hated your heart for beating faster at the sight of him.
Seungcheol seemed to finally have found what he was looking for, and reached into the cabinet. You altered the angle of the light to make sure he could still see what he was doing despite the shadow of his arm. He grabbed ahold of something and started tugging, his biceps flexing distractingly and his eyebrows screwing up in effort. You were definitely not holding the flashlight in a particularly helpful way anymore, but thankfully your helper didn’t seem to mind.
After a second or two the water slowed before stopping completely, and you cheered out loud. The sound had somehow become grating after only an hour, and the silence was very much welcome. Seungcheol stood up with a wince, holding a hand to his back like an old man. Without thinking, you pulled him into you and gave him a bear hug. You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but held them back. You were just so grateful to have him.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
You felt him laugh against you before he wrapped an arm gently around you and returned the hug. You pressed your cheek to his chest, just standing there and enjoying the embrace for a while before your brain would inevitably come back online. You felt his chin press against the top of your head for a second before he pulled away suddenly.
“Shit, sorry, I’m all-”
“I said I don’t care, stupid,” you scoffed, but your cheeks were definitely getting red now. How could you have just grabbed him like that? And embraced him? You would have cried if you hadn’t been so tired your head felt like it was full of cotton.
Now that you thought about it, you were extremely tired. It felt like a movie effect, the way your blood pressure just suddenly dropped and you swayed to the side. You were expecting a splash and a very uncomfortable kiss with the tile floor, but instead you found yourself back in Seungcheol’s arms. Oh.
Again with the stupid romance novel shit. The universe was testing you for sure. How were you supposed to resist him, really? You were doomed. Even the thought of your infatuation with him being one-sided could no longer bring you back down to the ground. You were simply fucked.
“When was the last time you ate anything?”
And he cares? Fuck the universe, seriously.
“Uhm, I think it was lunch. I stayed pretty late at work, so-”
“Please tell me you have food.”
“Y-Yeah. It’s uh, it’s on the counter in the kitchen.”
Without hesitation, the man picked you up and carried you into the kitchen. Your heart was going crazy, as were the butterflies in your stomach. You were at a loss for words, just going limp in his arms as he brought you to the dining table and placed you on one of the chairs gingerly. You continued to simply blink at him as he disappeared back into the hallway and came back with his hoodie, pulling it over your head before disappearing into the kitchen.
You wanted to scream and kick your feet, because was this man even real? You had no idea how you had deluded yourself into thinking your feelings toward him were sisterly, because currently, your pussy was screaming for him to come ruin you. And honestly? Both your heart and your head kind of agreed at this moment. You were so screwed.
When he came back with your sushi all plated and a glass for the drink you had bought, you couldn’t help but let the tears come back. You hated that you were so weepy, especially in front of a man you apparently were head over heels for, but it was just who you were. You were sad? You cried. Happy? Cried. Angry? Waterworks. You were helpless to it, and apparently to him, too.
“Good job picking up food on the way back home,” he teased, placing the plate in front of you. Then he poured your drink into your glass for you, promptly ignoring the way you were wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie.
“Shut up, I’m an adult,” you pouted back. He snorted loudly and sank into the chair opposite you, looking at you as you picked up your chopsticks and got ready to eat.
“Sometimes, maybe,” he drawled with a smirk. You glared at him, but your teary eyes had little to no effect, and you knew it. “I’m kidding, baby. I know.”
He was still studying your face as you placed the first piece of heaven into your mouth, sighing happily and smiling in delight. It made him smile, too, and you could have died at the sight of his dimples. At this point, you had just accepted the butterflies and their claim to your stomach; doing anything else seemed futile.
“I’m sorry I’m so weepy, Cheol,” you said between bites, pouting a little. He shook his head but you interrupted him before he could speak. “No, really. There was no reason to cry so much, or so many times, but I just- I don’t know. I literally got home right before I called you, and that was, what? At around-”
“9.30.”
“Yeah,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and tilting your head back in exhaustion. “9.30. I’m just tired, is what I’m trying to say.” You sat back up and huffed, sending him an embarrassed smile.
“And what I’m trying to say,” Seungcheol said while you readjusted the sleeves of his hoodie, “is to not worry about it. I know you’re an emotional person, but that’s okay.” He paused for a second, smiling when you almost dropped your sushi into the soy sauce. “Being emotional is just a tiny part of who you are. You excel at so much; it’s okay to have a few flaws. We all do, I promise. Besides, being emotional isn’t really a flaw, it’s just part of being human.”
At this, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. First of all, he was way too well-spoken to be a man in his twenties. Second of all, if he was implying that he, of all people, had any flaws, he was dead wrong. You had never seen him fail at anything, had never seen him do something awkward, even as a child. God, you wished he had, because maybe then he could have remained the brother of your best friend instead of becoming so incredibly meaningful to you.
“As if you have any flaws,” you mumbled, sticking another piece of food in your mouth. At least the sushi was good.
“Oh please, sweetheart. I’m twenty-seven and single. There’s plenty wrong with me.”
You shook your head vehemently. “Being single is not a flaw, you dummy. It’s just a relationship status. Who cares.”
“As if that’s all it is,” he laughed back.
“Okay, so the fact that I’m single reflects badly on me? ” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Good to know.”
Your plate was empty, and your chopsticks were resting on the edge of it. The only sound in the apartment was a steady, slow drip from the drying bath mat in the bathroom. You were staring at one another from across the table. Why the tension suddenly was so thick was anyone’s guess. All you knew was that the air in your little kitchen suddenly felt suffocating.
“You’re single?” he asked after a while, and you laughed a little.
“Yeah, Cheol.”
“What about that dude, what was his name… Mingyu?”
“Ew,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “God no. We went on like, one date and then decided it was weird to be anything other than friends. He feels more like a brother than anything.”
“What about Chan?”
“Wh- Chan? That was four years ago,” you laughed, shaking your head. At the curious tilt of his head, you kept going: “He was fine, we just got stressed during college and broke up. It happens.”
Something about this line of questioning felt momentous, for a few reasons. One, he was inquiring about your dating life, a topic the two of you generally never talked about. Two, he remembered the name of potential partners that had been in your life, even ones that hadn’t stuck around for long (or at all, in Mingyu’s case). And three… the way he looked at you was different. There was something in his gaze that you couldn’t place, something you didn’t know if you dared hope for.
“Well he’s obviously an idiot,” Seungcheol said under his breath. You were probably not supposed to hear it, but you did. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he looked at you guiltily, as if he had done something wrong. “I just meant that- uhm.”
A few seconds passed in silence. You barely dared to breathe. You were hoping he would keep going, hoping he would clarify before your thoughts went way too far again. The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Finally, he let out the heaviest sigh you’d ever heard.
“No, you know what, I meant it. He was an idiot for breaking up with you, because anyone would be lucky to have you.”
Time stopped. What do you say after that? You wanted to scream with joy and jump his bones, of course, but you couldn’t exactly do that. What if he didn’t mean it like that? If he didn’t feel the way you hoped he was implying? Because he, or more specifically his sister, was such a huge part of your life, and awkwardness was just not an option.
“Are-” you started, but blinked and started over. “Are you… serious?”
“Of course I am, Y/N.” He sounded almost exasperated. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, making it fall over his forehead in the most attractive way you had ever seen. Fucking. Unfair. “I’m not- I mean. I get it if you don’t feel the same or anything, but-”
“Feel what, exactly?” When he stared at you in confusion, you elaborated. “Please be clear with me, Cheol. I don’t want to keep guessing.”
It had come out as a whisper, but he had heard you. His expression softened, and the wrinkle between his brows disappeared. His mouth was slightly open as he seemingly looked for the right words. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you almost felt it in your throat.
“Baby,” he started, and it made your breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as dense as you are.”
“Hey!”
“No, seriously,” he kept going, not a single trace of evidence that he was joking, “do you actually mean to tell me you don’t know how I feel about you?”
“Look, I don’t-”
“I guess you don’t, and in that case, that’s my bad.” He got up from his chair and rounded the table, crouching next to your chair and grabbing your hand. “I am so ridiculously into you, it’s not even funny. Sua literally won’t stop teasing me about it, neither will my parents or my friends. No matter how hard I try I can’t stop thinking about you, but I’m honestly not sure I would want to even if I could. You mean so much to me, Y/N, and I really don’t want to be overbearing but I- fuck, I can’t-” he shuts his eyes in an attempt to collect himself, “I love you, baby, and if you don’t feel the same that’s fine, but I at least need you to know that I’m on my goddamn knees for you.”
Your glass, still containing some of your soda, toppled over from the force with which you left your chair. The way you threw yourself at Seungcheol forced him back, but you took the opportunity and placed yourself in his lap as you kissed him deeply. It took him half a second to respond, but then he was kissing you so ardently that you never wanted him to stop.
His arm wrapped around you from behind and pressed you to his chest. You could not give less of a shit that he was sprawled on your kitchen floor, or that you were down there with him, because you were kissing him. You were kissing the man that you most definitely had been in love with since you were a teenager, and fuck did it feel good.
“I, uh, take it you feel the same, then?” he asked after having reluctantly pulled away. You pressed your forehead to his.
“I bet that I have loved you longer.” You were breathing heavily, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours.
“Absolutely not,” he replied before kissing you again.
This time, you couldn’t hold back. You nibbled gently on his lower lip before soothing it over with your tongue. Seungcheol groaned deep in his chest and brought his left hand into your hair, pressing you even closer to him. He opened his mouth, letting your tongue tangle with his, and you felt the way he became jelly underneath you. You were not faring much better, your panties hot and sticky and your hands shaking. Despite this, you snaked one hand into his hair and tugged on it; his hips jumped in response, the action seemingly completely involuntary. You didn’t think you’d ever experienced anything hotter.
“Please, baby,” he heaved as you trailed your lips down his neck, “I can’t take it.”
You rolled your hips against his slowly, and that seemed to be his breaking point. He rolled you underneath him before standing up and taking you with him, carrying you into your bedroom while you followed the shape of his jaw up to his ear with your mouth. A shudder streaked through him as you sucked on the spot behind his left ear, his arms tightening around you and a hoarse moan leaving him.
You barely noticed him closing your bedroom door, only brought back to reality by the sensation of falling when he dropped you on your bed. You whined at the loss of contact, which made him smile; he loved the way you craved him, because honestly, he felt the exact same way about you. So he was quick to cover your body with his, his lips back on yours with a shuddered sigh from the both of you.
He felt so big above you, and yet you felt so safe. Not once had he done anything to hurt you. In fact, he had always been the one to take care of you and prevent you from being hurt. (Along with Sua, but you didn’t really want to think about her at that moment). His weight on top of you made you shudder in delight, your hands starting to wander. You played with the hem of his white t-shirt, still damp from the earlier bathroom catastrophe, but you didn’t care at all. All you wanted was to feel his skin against yours.
He was breathing as if he had run a marathon when he pulled away from your lips. He stared into your eyes, looking for any sign of reluctance, but not finding any.
“Are you sure, darling?” he asked, and your heart swelled about three sizes.
“I’m so sure, Cheol. Please, please, I need you.” You were properly whining now, but you were far past caring.
“Okay baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling away to get his shirt up and over his head. He was about to lay back over you, but froze and let his eyes wander your body. He shut his eyes, his forehead wrinkling once again as he took a few deep breaths. “You in my hoodie and underneath me, I can’t- Y/N, baby, I need a second, I’m so-”
You giggled a little before grabbing the hem of said hoodie, pulling it up and over your head. Apparently, that didn’t help, as Seungcheol’s grip on the sheets tightened and he cursed under his breath.
“I thought this would be better,” you said in confusion, blinking up at him.
“I’m actually going to die,” he gritted out, sounding as if he was genuinely in pain. “I don’t think you realize what seeing you in a wet t-shirt did to me earlier, sweetheart. What it’s doing to me now is just torture.” You flushed at his words, having forgotten that little detail. “Wait. Is that my shirt?” You glanced down and flushed even more when you realized it must be. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me, gonna fucking-”
He cut himself off by pressing his lips against yours again. Your head immediately got fuzzy again, the only thought you could formulate being that of his dick inside of you. When he ground his hips against yours and you felt the outline of it, you let out the most sinful moan Seungcheol has ever heard, which caused his hips to keep grinding into you without his brain’s permission. You disconnected your lips from his for just long enough to pull your wet shirt off your alarmingly hot body, and the man on top of you didn’t even have the strength to look at you without a shirt. He might actually have came in his pants if he did.
You didn’t even mind, because you finally had his skin pressed against yours. The heat of him poured over you, driving you absolutely insane and making you whimper against his lips. If he didn’t do something in the next minute, you would just have to take care of yourself.
“Cheol-”
“Please say it again,” he begged, his lips trailing down your neck toward your breasts.
“Cheol,” you sighed, and he moaned against your skin, his dick grinding perfectly against your clit even through four layers of fabric. You barely recognized your own sounds even as you felt them leave your lips, so high on his proximity you couldn’t have produced a thought if you tried.
When you repeated his name one more time he finally closed his lips around your right nipple, his deft fingers playing with the other and his cock still pressing deliciously against your pussy. Your hips lifted to grind back on him, and he actually whined for you.
“Seungcheol,” you whined, and his only response was a harsh thrust of his hips and another whine. “Please, take my shorts off, I need you to fuck me so bad.”
He let go of your nipple, chuckling as he looked into your eyes and dragged his hands down to rest on your hips. “Want these off?” he asked, flicking the elastic of your bike shorts against your skin. You nodded frantically, pressing your hips up into his again. He looked like he wanted to protest, so you decided to do the only logical thing and beg for his cock.
“Cheol, please please please, take my shorts off? I need it, please,” you begged, your eyes big and innocent as you stared into his. “I want your cock, baby, want it inside me, please.”
Honestly, it was no surprise that his confident facade crumbled along with his will to tease you any longer. If he was telling the truth, and you had no reason not to believe him, he had been in love with you for a long time. You had played dirty by begging him for his cock when he had already been on the verge of losing his mind - especially with those big, innocent eyes of yours. How was he supposed to say no to you?
“Evil, evil woman, fuck,” he muttered to himself as he all but tore the shorts down your legs along with your panties.
The sight of you, his absolute dream, naked beneath him made him believe in God for two whole seconds, for who could have accomplished something like you but an almighty deity? He must have shaped you with his own two hands, he thought, before coming back to his senses and thinking that no, you were a creation of your own. No one but you could have accomplished something like you.
With very little preamble, Seungcheol lowered himself between your thighs, kissing up the inside of each thigh as he went. He looked up and met your gaze, and you had never seen a more erotic sight. Sure, other people had gone down on you before, but none of them had been Seungcheol; none of them had been the one that counted. His big brown eyes met yours, and you swore you saw raw hunger in them.
“May I, baby? Please?”
“You- You’re begging to eat me out?” you asked, in complete and utter shock. You had figured this was somewhat of a chore to him, something that needed to be done both to woo you and to prep you for his cock. One look at his glazed eyes had you changing your mind.
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. His voice was hoarse and his eyes desperate, that simple look giving you enough material for many fantasies in the future. “Please, let me eat you out?”
What were you supposed to do, say no? Absolutely not. You simply nodded at him, and he fucking dove for it. His tongue explored your folds gently but firmly, and as soon as the flavor of you met his taste buds, he was in heaven. His hips ground into the mattress of their own volition as he was lapping at you, his tongue mapping you out and figuring out what brought you the most pleasure.
Seungcheol’s eyes were shut in pleasure, your juices covering his chin all the way up to his nose, but he couldn’t think of anything better. He wanted to drown in you, on his stomach between your legs, or - if he was allowed to dream - underneath you while you were grinding all over his face, taking all the pleasure you could from him.
You weren’t exactly complaining, either. His tongue felt divine, moving to gently circle your clit before he sucked it into his mouth. When your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging in pleasure, your lover let out a grunt that sent vibrations traveling through your entire body.
“F-Fingers, Cheol, please-”
He just grunted an affirmative and pressed his middle finger into you slowly. The warmth surrounding his finger drove him insane, making his hips press harder against the mattress and his eyes squeeze tighter. Having something to clench down on brought your pleasure to even greater heights, and you started to feel the familiar tightening signaling your release. You had felt the outline of his dick earlier, and you knew you would need another finger to make him fit.
“Another, I need you to fit later, baby.”
Your voice came out shaky, but the man consuming your pussy like it was the best meal he’d ever had didn’t seem to mind. He simply let his ring finger join his other inside you, grunting when he felt how tight you were around him. The tightening in your lower belly grew more and more intense by the second, the filthy noises of Seungcheol devouring you bringing you that much closer to the edge. You let out a mewl that sounded like it came straight from a porno, and felt his grip tighten on your thigh.
“I’m so close, baby, so close, please-”
“Come for me,” he growled hoarsely before resuming his delicious torture of your clit.
You followed his request a second later, moaning loudly and squirming around on the bed. His free hand pressed down over your hips to keep you still as he coaxed you through it, and he didn’t stop until the overstimulation almost hurt.
His fingers left your pussy gently, absolutely covered in your slick. You blushed as he put them in his mouth, moaning at the flavor as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. And to him, you were. He would remember the flavor of you until the day he died.
Your chest was rising and falling as you gulped down air. The way Seungcheol couldn’t help but grind into the mattress again made you want to cry, because how could he be so perfect? And how could he want you, of all people?
When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and you loved it. It was a reminder of just how voraciously he had just eaten you out, and you took the opportunity to reach down and cup him over his underwear. He hissed and pulled his hips back, panting already.
“I- you can’t.”
“But, baby I just want to return the favor-”
“My love, if you touch me again I can’t guarantee that I will have faculties to be inside you.”
His words made you laugh, both because of how ridiculous his phrasing was, but also because of the effect you seemed to have on him. Had he really been driven so far by making out with you and making you cum? It seemed like it.
“I love you so much,” you ended up breathing out. He gazed into your eyes so adoringly you felt like time stopped again.
“I love you more, Y/N.”
His response prompted you to kiss him, and he deflated on top of you. As he sunk further into your embrace, his still-covered dick brushed against your wet core, and the whine he let out was almost pathetic.
“I hate to ruin the moment, but please, let me be inside you now. I think I’ll die if I can’t,” he confessed. You laughed out loud again before nodding, kissing and sucking a trail down his neck while he removed his boxers. “Condom?”
“I don’t have any, but I have an IUD and I’m clean.” You could practically see Seungcheol’s brain grind to a halt. “But, I mean, if you don’t want to we can just wai-”
“No!” he almost yelled, his entire face flushing pink. “No, I’m clean too, and I- fuck, I would love to be inside you without a condom.”
You nodded, and he took a deep breath. The thought of having him inside you without a barrier excited you to no end, and it seemed he felt the same. You kissed him passionately again while he lined himself up with your core, and moaned through a sigh as he pushed into you. He didn’t have a monster cock or anything, but it was still bigger than what you were used to taking.
As he bottomed out, he let out a punched out sigh. You could feel him shaking on top of you, and did your best not to move or clench down on him. Unfortunately, your pussy didn’t exactly obey you and clenched down anyway. It made Seungcheol’s breath hitch, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight so as not to look at you while he was trying not to cum.
“I swear,” he wheezed, “you are going to kill me.”
His words made you chuckle, which in turn made him groan and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You were ready for him to move, and told him as much, but he still needed a second. You could feel tears sting the corners of your eyes, as per usual feeling weepy as soon as you felt a big wave of emotion. To distract yourself, you locked your lips with his and kissed him with all the passion you had left to give.
As your tongue tangled with his he groaned low in his throat, and his hips thrust into you of their own accord. Once he had started, he couldn’t stop, and you didn’t want him to. He started out fairly slow, taking his time to make sure you weren’t hurting at all. Then you accidentally clenched down on him, and he could no longer hold back.
He started pounding into you, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you and making you dizzy. You moaned out every time the tip of him hit the spongy spot inside you, and you couldn’t help the way you were clenching around him. You were hurtling toward your end so fast it was almost alarming. He filled you up so perfectly, so perfectly thick and long, it was as if you were made for one another.
Seungcheol was mumbling an endless stream of praise, grunting every time your cunt squeezed him a bit tighter. He felt like he was in heaven, your slick walls molded around him in a way that made him mourn the time spent doing anything other than this. He wanted to keep you like this, impaled on his cock and making you feel as good as you ever had.
Sadly, he was so wound up he wouldn’t be able to last as long as he usually did. While he didn’t blow immediately as he had been worried he would, he started feeling his balls drawing up around five minutes in. The way your nails were scratching down his back wasn’t helping his situation.
In an effort to save himself from cumming before you, he lowered a hand to circle the nub of your clit gently. The extra stimulation was exactly what you needed to build the rest of the way to the edge, and you tangled your hands in his hair as your thighs shook.
“Please, Cheol, baby, I’m gonna-”
“Oh thank God, please cum around me, baby, wanna feel it,” he begged, and it did the trick.
Your orgasm was spectacular, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as you exploded around him. You were moaning his name, clawing at his back and arching your back to the high heavens. Your toes actually curled. It was the orgasm of orgasms.
Seeing you like that, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he brought you pleasure was enough for Seungcheol to follow you over the edge. He came so hard he saw nothing but white, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself into you. His face was pressed into your neck, but his moans could not be concealed even if he tried.
You both lay there, panting and soaked in sweat, for a pretty long time before he finally pulled out and rolled off of you. He sprawled on his back and stayed like that, his eyes shut in complete and utter bliss and his heart beating out of his chest. Your hair was an absolute bird’s nest around you, and there were tear tracks running down your cheeks and into your hairline.
You clumsily flopped over to rest against his side, and he pulled you in until your head was resting right over his heart. You slung your bare leg over his waist, and he groaned in what sounded like agony.
“You can’t do this to me,” he whined, and you giggled lightly at him.
“I just put my leg on you, baby,” you said, looking up at him innocently, and he had to shut his eyes for a second and remind himself he wasn’t dreaming. You, yourself weren’t entirely convinced all this wasn’t a dream; and if it was, you never wanted to wake up.
“Okay, well you’ve just seen what seeing you in a hoodie and bike shorts does to me, so,” he reminded you, and you bit back a grin. It was good to know you could tease him easily.
You laid in silence for a while, just listening to his heart beating against his ribcage. Every once in a while it would slow down, and then he would look down at you and it would speed back up. Your heart seemed to match the pace of his, and you found that you loved it that way.
“So, “ Seungcheol started, and you pulled yourself up on your elbow to look at him as he talked. “That… just happened.” You snorted into a laugh, and he joined you, flicking your forehead gently. “I uh, I’m going to a work thing on Friday. I usually don’t bring a date because, well, because I’m usually single, but maybe, this time, I could bring you?”
You blinked at him slowly, admiring him in the light from your bedside lamp. He was pretty no matter what, but with his cheeks glowing and his eyes glittering, he was beyond what was natural, in your opinion. You stroked a bit of his hair behind his ear and hummed.
“I mean, are you not single anymore?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Uhhhh-” he was interrupted by your laughter, and he pouted at you jokingly. “Don’t do that! I get scared I fucked up,” he said and rolled over to wrap his arms around you.
“I’m sorry,” you giggled, “I just don’t know either.” You paused. “Hey Cheol?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
At your words, his entire face lit up. He started giggling and buried his face in your hair, trying to hide from view. Even still, you knew he would be blushing. His arms squeezed tighter around you as he pulled you even closer, and you didn’t even mind that you couldn’t breathe.
“I was going to ask,” he ended up whining once brain function had returned to him. “Can I?”
“I mean, sure?” you answered, trying your hardest not to just lean in and kiss away his pout. Your willpower sucked, so you did it anyway.
“Great! Hey, Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”
You bit your lip to hold in your laughter, but all it did was summon your boyfriend’s gaze to your mouth. You released it and broke out into a huge grin, nodding.
“I would love nothing more.”
“So what you’re saying is,” Sua said thoughtfully, “you finally put him out of his misery?”
It was a week later, and you were sitting on your balcony with Sua and drinking coffee. The bathroom floor was now dry, and while the stupid bath mat had been unsalvageable, everything else had been fine. The apartment management had gotten the leak fixed after five days, proving that calling Seungcheol had been the right choice for more reasons than one.
Even thinking about him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your boyfriend. The one who had brought you to a work function as your first date, and the one who had gotten jealous because you had greeted a coworker of his when he was getting you a drink. The one that had helped you save your apartment from water damage. The one you had loved for the past decade.
“Okay but how could I have put him through misery if I didn’t know he liked me, hm?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at your friend. She had her eyes closed, face turned toward the sun like an old lady.
“You cannot be serious,” she said incredulously, turning toward you and opening her eyes wide to show her shock. “You’re telling me you didn’t know Cheol was in love with you? He has been so down bad for you since we were like fourteen, man. He bought you flowers for your graduation. He reminded you to take your allergy pills before going to a dog café.” You flushed a little at your own blindness, but Sua just sighed and turned back toward the sun, her eyes closed again. “At least it will be easy to kill him if he hurts you.”
a/n: if you liked this, please don't forget to like and reblog! <3
masterlist
#svt x reader#seventeen smut#svt#svt smut#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#seventeen fic#seventeen fanfic#svt fic#svt fanfic#sescoups writes
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List of “I still…” prompts
I still smell the traces of your scent on my bedsheets; my clothes; my pillowcase
I still remember your favourite songs; the way you’d sing them out loud thinking no one’s listening, and then getting flustered when you realised I heard you
I still remember all of your little quirks in which I’ve always found so endearing to me, but you always thought were annoying
I still remember the feel of you under my palms; every curve, every line
I still have your number memorised, like the back of my hand
I still remember your smile, the soft quirk to it. How could I not? It’s ingrained in the back of my mind, even though I wish it wasn’t
I still can’t get you out of my mind even though I’m probably long gone from yours
I still remember how you’d laugh at my jokes even though they didn’t make any sense to anyone else
I still have our inside jokes kept somewhere in the back of my mind
I still remember how you taste
I still remember how you sound; your sweet voice you told me you hated when you had to listen back to it over voice recording
I still remember how you’d be there for me, through both the thick and the thin
I still remember how you told me you’d always be there for me
I still remember how our love was supposed to be unconditional… until it wasn’t
I still remember how things went down south. Where did things go wrong? I still don’t really understand what happened…
I still think about you, day in, day out
I still miss you
I still want you
I still need you
And I… I still love you, even after all of this time
#this doesn't read like a prompt list the further it goes but anyways lkfn#angst prompts#prompts#otp prompts#writing prompts
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful
Summary: You have a long weekend that ends rather unexpectedly. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, some brief violence at the end.
A/N: I'm in a bit of a crisis so you're getting a bonus chapter this week. It's a beefy one and I wrote like 90% of it yesterday, just had the brain sludge by the time I was close to finishing and decided to rest before I finished and edited. Things are starting to get a big suggestive here, so as a reminder, this fic will have NSFW content in later chapters so please do not interact with it if you are under 18. I'd hate to have to block you.
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“How are you settling in?”
“Fine.” You shrug.
“Any instinct to nest at all?”
You shake your head. “No.”
“That’s fine.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down. “It’s only been just over a week. Have you started kneeling for Captain Price yet?”
You shake your head again. “No.”
Dr. Keller tilts her head. “Why not?”
You shrug again. “He hasn’t brought it up.”
“Is that something you’d like to start doing?”
Her question catches you off guard again. You’re not used to being asked what you want, afterall you’re an omega. That’s not important. You’re here to serve. To do as you’re told. You remember watching your mother kneel for your father while he watched TV, her dazed, glazed over eyes staring at nothing as he almost seemed to hypnotize her into the shell of a perfect omega. It was your first taste of truly how much power alphas could hold over omegas. One hand on the back of your neck and it’s over.
“I...I don’t know.” You say, picking at your sleeve.
“You’re allowed to want things too.” Dr. Keller leans forward just slightly, giving you a smile. “I highly doubt Captain Price will make much of a fuss if you ask for something you need. He cares about you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She tilts her head at you, watching you pick at your sleeve. “Is there anything you want or maybe need that you haven’t asked for?”
Softer blankets. A fluffier pillow. Different body wash and shampoo. New clothes. A picture or a poster or something to make your room seem less clinical. Your instincts to finally start kicking in. Price to want you as much as he’s supposed to. Ghost to like you. To go back in time and let Soap kiss you.
To go back in time and never present as an omega.
“No.” You finally answer, shaking your head. “I’m fine.”
Dr. Keller stares at you for a long moment. You avoid her gaze, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I know you’re going to get tired of me saying this, but it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space for you. Everything that we discuss, everything that you say in here stays between you and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something I firmly believe in, even when it comes to alpha/omega relationships. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” You say quietly, still avoiding her gaze.
She continues to stare at you for a moment before she leans back on the couch again, shuffling some papers around. “The two betas, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. How are you getting along with them?” She continues with her questions.
“Fine.” You lean back in your chair, hoping it might swallow you whole. “They’re easiest to get along with.”
Dr. Keller nods. “Good. I’m a strong advocate for organic pack bonding. Helps avoid any dynamic struggles or false instincts down the line. How are you sleeping?”
“Fine I guess.” You shrug. “I nap a lot.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Omegas need a lot of sleep and I can imagine adjusting to a new schedule has been rough.” Dr. Keller moves the papers to the couch next to her, looking up at you. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”
You hesitate, pulling at the seam of your sleeve. It’s beginning to unravel a bit from your nervous picking. You’ll have to fix it. Dr. Keller is right, though. You could just ask for a new one. Price had told you they had a budget for your needs, plus they do get paid well. Anything you needed, they would gladly get for you.
You just have to ask.
It’s the asking that you’re not sure you can do. It feels strange to ask anything of your new pack. They’re supposed to be the ones needing things from you. If Soap had wanted to kiss you, he could have. Instead he left it up to you. He let you decide. You wonder if Price’s hesitation to move forward has been because he’s waiting on you.
They’re all waiting on you, except maybe Ghost. They’re waiting on you to make the first moves, on you to set the pieces on the board. What is the first move? How do you set the pieces? Did you even need to? Would they fall into place organically if you just left them alone? Or would the tension continue to build up, would you continue to affect them until it became too much and the pressure causes everything to blow?
“I’m affecting them.” You say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
Dr. Keller tilts her head as she stares at you. “What do you mean?”
“They’re soldiers. They’re good soldiers with years and years of training, that’s why they're here. But...but I’m changing that. I asked Price if I could go with them and watch them run a training course cause I read in a book that I should get to know them and the things they like and so I was just curious what they do during the day when I’m not with them. He let me watch and he told me their top speeds running the training course but...none of them met those times with me there.”
You take a deep breath, the words pouring out of you easily now. You feel as if you’re not even thinking of them, not even measuring them or using caution as you normally would in any conversation. They’re slipping out from somewhere deep inside and now that you’ve opened that dam, you can’t stop it.
“Price made them run through it five times and they still couldn’t match their top speeds. He said it was a good thing that they figured that out, that they need to know how I’m affecting them and how to adjust to me. And every time they ran through it, I couldn’t stop thinking about...”
You take another breath, the air catching in your lungs. Your fingers are shaking, your body sinking deeper and deeper into the chair, almost as if you’re trying to get it to swallow you whole. As if the chair might wrap its arms around you and pull you into its softness and keep you there until you can’t breathe and it suffocates you.
“What if it was me? What if they were having to rescue me? I know that’s a risk, a low one, but it’s still a risk. The CIA and Kate warned me that I could become a target if the wrong person found out about me. That’s why I can’t know anything about what they do because that puts me at more of a risk, and I could be a threat to them and the entire world if something got out that wasn’t supposed to.”
You’re breathing heavily as the words finally come to a stop. Dr. Keller’s eyes are shining with sympathy as she stares at you. This is the most you’ve ever opened up to her, the most words you feel you’ve ever spoken to her in the two times now that you’ve met.
It feels good. It feels really good to voice your thoughts and your fears to someone on the outside, someone you can trust won’t tell anyone. You couldn’t voice these fears to your pack. They’re used to this kind of thing. They live with the knowledge they could die at any point, that any mission might be their last. How many lives have they seen lost, how many close calls have they had? You’ve seen scars already on arms, hands, faces. How many others are hidden where you can’t see?
How many scars do they have inside, too?
“I want you to know that your fears are very valid.” Dr. Keller says, her voice soft. “Being involved in the military comes with a lot of risks, and then you get to places like this and those risks only get greater and greater. I can’t promise you that something like that won’t ever happen, because we have no way of knowing. The risk is not zero for a reason.”
Dr. Keller stands from the couch, moving to the chair next to you. The calming beta scent washes over you, and you know you have to be stinking up the room. She turns the chair slightly to face you, leaning forward onto her knees. You can see the imprints on the sides of her nose from where she’d been wearing glasses earlier.
“That risk is also only low for a reason. Your identity has been well hidden, just like those of your pack’s. You’re on a well protected and secure military base. This place is a black square on Google Maps. I know, I tried looking it up when I found out where I was being assigned.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm gently. “And I highly doubt your pack would ever let anything happen to you. Packs are highly protective over their omegas. Even bad alphas can’t fight that instinct when their pack is threatened. Your pack would quite literally go to war for you.”
She is right, you know she is. Yet that fear continues to wiggle at the back of your mind. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, but they’re going to start leaving soon. What if something happens while they’re not here? Who will help you then? The other soldiers? The betas that stare and the alphas that catcall you?
“I guess you’re right.” You say, continuing to pick at your sleeve. At this rate, by the time your heat starts, you’ll have unraveled the whole sweatshirt.
The buzz of your phone on your nightstand pulls you from your half asleep state. Your book is on the floor, having dropped from your hands and slid off your bed as you drifted off. Your lamp is still on, casting a warm glow around your room. You prefer the softer light compared to the fluorescent overhead, as most omegas do. There’s something too clinical and sterile about fluorescents.
You grab your phone, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you try to blink the sleepiness away. It’s not terribly late, but you’ve been feeling the exhaustion all day since your conversation with Dr. Keller.
“Be ready by 0500 tomorrow. Wear something meant for the outdoors.”
It’s a text from Price, your brow furrowing as you read it over. Five in the morning on a Saturday? That’s the earliest you’ve had to get up since your arrival on base. And wear something meant for the outdoors? You can only imagine what he has planned for the day you had been planning on spending sleeping.
You make a quiet noise of indignation as you text back in confirmation, setting an alarm so you can be ready by 5 am. Not up by 5 am, ready by 5 am. You have half a mind to call him, or to text back asking why he feels you need to be up before the sun. You know that’s the normal time they begin their mornings during the week, usually when you hear them up and moving around, getting ready to go work out. That’s usually when you roll over and go back to sleep for another hour and a half before your own alarm gets you up for breakfast.
You pout a little as you set your phone back on your nightstand, reaching down to grab your book and set it next to your phone. You lay back down on your bed, turning off your lamp and bathing the room in darkness. Well, it’s not totally dark. The light from the lamp outside shines in your window, casting cold shadows across the walls and floor. You’ve never been a fan of total darkness. You’d grown used to having some light in the room at The Institute. One of your roommates had insisted on having a nightlight, and there were many nights you were grateful for it as you laid awake at the mercy of your racing mind.
A nightlight.
You add it to the mental list of things you want, but you’ll never feel brave enough to ask for.
Your alarm rings too early in the morning, your hand lifting to silence it quickly. 4:30 am doesn’t feel like a real time as you rise in darkness, hand fumbling for the switch to your lamp. You glare into the dimly lit room, trying to blink the sleepiness from your eyes. How desperately you want to curl back up under the blankets and sleep until someone knocks on the door to check on you because you’ve slept so long into the day.
You don’t doubt Price will knock in about 30 minutes to get you up. He’ll be disappointed if you ignore him, you think. He wouldn’t punish you if you went against his wishes, would he?
You don’t know that.
You haven’t even thought to push that boundary, nor have you discussed it. You don’t want to. You’re a good omega.
You’re a good omega.
You repeat it over and over as you get yourself ready, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You silently thank Kate as you pull on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots, assuming that’s what Price means by “something meant for the outdoors.” Had she bought the items in anticipation of something like this happening? You are on a military base. You should have expected you’d be pulled into something like this eventually.
You’re debating on a jacket by the time the knock comes, right at 5 am. You wonder how long Price has been standing in the hallway, or if he’s perfected arriving right on the dot after years of expected punctuality. You decide on the jacket after checking the weather, slipping it on as you open the door. He hadn’t mentioned needing anything, not that you own any sort of supplies for the outdoors anyway.
He doesn’t say anything as you open the door, instead motioning with his head to follow. You quietly close your door, expecting the others to be waiting for you, but their doors are all closed and they’re nowhere to be seen. You feel slightly nervous as you follow Price out into the cold morning air, glad you decided on the jacket as your breath steams from your lips.
Price is dressed in his usual boots and cargo pants with a cargo jacket and a beanie instead of a bucket hat. There’s two packs leaning against the side of the building, Price grabbing one and approaching you.
“What are we doing?” You ask quietly as he helps you put on the backpack, buckling it across your chest.
“Going for a hike.” He says, putting on the other backpack.
“Why?” You ask as he turns on a flashlight, handing it to you before turning on another one for himself.
“I’ll explain when we get there.” He says simply, motioning for you to follow him.
You hesitate for half a moment. A hike in the dark? The base is surrounded by forest, but you sometimes forget due to the sprawling nature of the buildings, and your usual ventures outside the barracks being to either the mess or the medical center, all of which were central on the base.
Why does he feel the need to hike in the dark? Surely it’s more dangerous, especially for someone not quite so physically inclined like you. If he wanted to go on a hike, why hadn’t he just said that to begin with? Maybe he would have, had you asked why last night instead of just immediately agreeing.
Going into the woods alone in the dark with an alpha you barely know.
Anxiety twists in your stomach for a moment before you force your feet forward, walking fast to catch up to him. He leads you down one of the roads on base, your boots crunching as the ground changes from asphalt to gravel. Your anxiety doesn’t lessen any as the trees loom high above you in the darkness, the forest like a black void before you.
Your brain thinks up all the land predators that might exist in England. Do they have bears? You’ve seen Brave, but that’s in Scotland. What about big cats like cougars or mountain lions? Are there racoons in England?
You’re on a military base, you think. Surely they have means to keep out large predators that might be dangerous.
Your pack won’t let anything happen to you.
Dr. Keller’s words float through your mind as you follow Price through the underbrush and into the trees. You’re not following any path, at least that you can see, though your experiences in the outdoors have been very limited since you left home. Your dad liked to camp and hike, and often you and your siblings were subjected to his weekend and holiday trips into the wilderness.
You missed them in the early days at the Institute. You missed a lot of things back then.
“What’s eating you back there?” Price asks as you weave through trees and underbrush.
“There’s nothing...dangerous out here...is there, sir?” You ask, narrowly avoiding taking a branch to the face. “Bears or mountain lions?”
Price chuckles. “The worst thing you might find is a stray badger or a snake that got through the fence somehow.”
“Oh.” You say, shining the flashlight around you. “That’s good.”
Price stops, turning to face you. “You’re fretting.”
“Well, we’re in the woods in the dark at an ungodly hour and you won’t tell me why, sir.” You pout.
“Do you trust me?” He asks, staring down at you with a hard look in his eyes.
You stare up at him, your grip tightening on the flashlight in your hand. “Should I trust you?”
He straightens up a bit, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s something you have to decide.” He turns back around, starting to walk again. “All I can do is my best to try and prove myself to you. In the end, you’re the one that decides if I’m trustworthy or not.”
You’ve never thought of it that way. He could do everything in his power to get you to trust him, but in the end it is your decision. He hasn’t proven you wrong yet, but then again...it’s only been a week. You’ve known him for a week and you’re following him through the woods alone in the dark.
Your brothers would have a fit if they saw you right now.
“Do you trust me?” You find yourself asking as you continue to trek through the woods, narrowly avoiding hurting yourself on various occasions.
“You haven’t given me reason not to.” He answers, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. “I’d prefer it stayed that way.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir. I hardly think I’m much of a threat on any term. Well, at least I don’t think I am. Ghost seems to disagree.”
Price lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Simon...Simon is a unique case. He’s good at his job, but that makes it hard for him to succeed in other areas. I’m sure Johnny has told you how much Simon couldn’t stand him at first. Now look at them.” He chuckles warmly, almost fondly. “He only sees you as a threat in your nature.”
You frown, glancing up at the sky. It’s beginning to turn grey with dusk, the trees seeming to come alive around you in the dim light. “What do you mean by that, sir?”
“You’re an omega. To bond with an omega, there is a degree of vulnerability required by the alpha. Being around omegas requires an openness that can be frightening if you’re not used to it.” He explains. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Simon isn’t the most open man.”
You snort quietly. “Hadn’t noticed, sir.”
Price chuckles at your answer. “You’re threatening to him, because you’re a challenge. Give him time. This entire situation is an adjustment for all of us, just as I’m sure it is for you too.”
You don’t know how to respond to that statement. It is an adjustment. Joining any pack was, but a pack like this...a pack that has you tramping through the woods at 6 am for a reason you don’t even know yet is a major adjustment.
Price stops after the sun has come up, taking a moment next to an outcropping of rocks. He clips your flashlight to your bag before unzipping it, passing you a bottle of water. You take it gladly, your mouth feeling dry after walking for so long.
“How much further?” You ask as he drinks his own water.
“Quite a ways.” He answers.
“Can I know why we’re doing this yet?” You ask as he zips your water back into your backpack.
“Not yet.” He says, continuing onward.
You let out an exasperated sigh, but follow him anyway. You don’t have much of a choice.
Your legs are beginning to get tired, and you’re starting to feel a bit hungry. You’re not sure if you should say anything, or if he’d even stop. You assume he’s packed food, or at least you hope so. You’re going to get grumpy if you’re traversing all over the forest for hours with nothing to eat.
Price slows his pace a bit as you approach what you think is a clearing. You can see a break in the trees ahead, the sun coming through brighter here. You’re sore and tired, your phone telling you you’ve been walking for just over two hours.
How big is this base?
You break through the treeline, finding a small clearing with what looks like a fire watch tower in the middle of it. It’s not what you were expecting, the many scenarios of why you had been dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and forced to hike through the woods you’ve been thinking up the last two hours, did not end quite like this. You stare up at the tower, your head tilting back to take it in.
“Not scared of heights, are you?” Price asks, standing beside you.
“Maybe.” You answer, eyeing the staircase winding around it to get to the top.
“Come on.” He says, nudging you forward gently. “Up the stairs.”
The last thing you want to do after walking for two hours is climb a never ending staircase, but you don’t think you have much of a choice. Perhaps you can finally sit once you get to the top, and maybe you’ll even get to eat.
Price follows behind you as you take the steps, climbing slowly. Your legs are screaming, your feet aching in your boots. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bleeding a little, or if you wind up with blisters. You’re breathing heavily by the time you get to the top, sweat beading on your brow. Price doesn’t even seem winded behind you, and you’re sure he could have jogged up the steps if he wanted to.
The top of the tower is mostly empty except for a small table and two chairs. There’s no windows, the tower open between the railing and the roof. Price sets his bag on the table, unzipping it. You sink into one of the chairs, letting your bag drop to the floor.
“Can I know why we’re here now?” You ask him.
“Drink some water and take a breath first.” He says, pulling a couple packets out of his bag. MRE’s.
You dig your bottle out of your bag, taking note of the other contents inside. A few snack bars, a couple MRE’s of your own, another unopened bottle of water, and a book. There’s things in the other pockets but you don’t bother looking, guzzling down more water.
You stand from your chair, your legs almost buckling in protest as Price gets the MRE’s cooking. You lean against the railing, looking down over the forest that stretches out as far as you can see below.
“Can I know now?” You ask, knowing there has to be a good reason for him to bring you out here.
“A training exercise.” He says finally.
“A training exercise?” You frown, turning to look at him over your shoulder. It wasn’t a training exercise for you, was it?
“Sometimes when we get a specific target on a mission, the only thing we have to go off of is a general location and a scent.” He explains. “We have to be able to track that scent effectively, sometimes for miles. We run training exercises out here to test their ability to track scents to hunt down a target.”
You stare at the sprawling woods, beginning to understand. “So, they’re hunting a scent that will lead them here?”
Price chuckles lowly, his hands coming to rest on the railing on either side of you. Your stomach flutters as he leans in close, his scent strong in your nose as his breath fans your ear. “Technically, they’re hunting you.”
Your knuckles go white as they grip the railing, your blood pulsing in your veins. You’re well aware that some alphas like to hunt their omegas. There’s some primal urge deep within your brains to chase and be chased. You’re well aware of how it usually ends, the thought making your stomach clench.
“You gave me the idea.” Price says, the warmth of his body radiating through your jacket. “When you asked to watch them train, I saw how you affected them, I thought...maybe you can be useful for their training afterall.”
“Do they...do they know it’s me?” You ask as he steps back from you. You fight the urge to whine at the loss of proximity.
“They do now.” He says with a smirk. “They’ve already started, so if they can follow your scent successfully, then they’ll be here in about an hour.” He says, looking at his watch.
You frown a little. “But...we walked for two hours.”
He smiles a little, pointing to a break in the trees below you hadn’t noticed until now. “That trailhead is a 20 minute hike back to base.”
Your frown deepens. “But-”
“We weren’t walking in a straight line.” He explains. “We doubled back and recrossed the trail several times to try and confuse them, just as someone running from them would do.” He passes you one of the MRE’s. “That’s what I want you to do, if it ever comes to it. You don’t fight unless you have no other choice. You always try to run first.”
“Yes, sir.” You say, sitting down again. You don’t think you’d do much damage fighting anyway, but you don’t tell him that.
You open the package, peeking at the contents. Some sort of potato hash, you think, but you don’t really care. You’re so hungry you’ll gladly eat the mystery re-hydrated food. Price sinks into the other chair with a quiet sigh, digging into the food. It’s quiet out in the woods, the only other sound besides the two of you the sounds of birds.
You’ve always loved the woods, the quiet serenity of such isolation. You could imagine Price living in a log cabin miles from civilization, with animals and his own garden, happily living in quiet peace away from the stresses of life and war. You blame the fluttering in your stomach on the lingering thoughts of a chase, of a hunt. The thought of running, trying to evade soldiers who train to hunt others by their scents has goosebumps forming on your skin.
They’re not from the cold either.
The sun has disappeared behind clouds, the grey weather of England quickly becoming normal to you. You haven’t seen the sun much since you landed in London two weeks ago, and you’re sure you’re not going to see much of it for quite a long while.
“What’s got you all twitchy over there?” Price asks, breaking the silence.
You turn to look at him, your mouth open a bit in surprise. “How can you tell?”
“I’ve been trained to notice small details, sweetheart.” He says, grinning at you. “Your fingers always get fidgety first. Like you’re looking for something to do with them. Usually they disappear beneath your sleeves, or you start picking at your clothes. Your scent changes too. Subtly, but still noticeable.”
Oh god. You wince a little bit. He can still smell you, even outdoors in an open area.
“Your eyes start to move, looking all over the place, like you’re searching for something, or trying not to stare at one place too long.” He continues, making you want to sink deeper and deeper into the chair until you disappear. Of course he can read you like a book. They all probably can. “Your breathing always picks up, fast enough it’s noticeable if you’re paying attention. It’s easy to set you off too, sweet little thing.”
Warmth floods your face at his words and his stare, the back of your neck prickling. You meet his gaze across the table, the look in his eyes making you feel like you want to crawl under the table and hide. You hate that he can read you so easily. You won’t be able to hide anything from him.
He probably knows you already have.
You continue to hold his gaze, not backing down despite the intense tickling at the back of your neck. Touch alphas like a challenge, you repeat it over and over in your head.
Don’t back down.
Don’t back down.
Don’t back down.
A quiet growl rumbles through his chest, a shiver shooting down your spine so violently it nearly steals your breath. You fight the urge to bear your throat to him in submission, your head tilting back just slightly as your eyes squeeze closed. You’re panting, warmth pooling in your stomach as he chuckles lowly. He’s won, he knows it. You were never going to win. Nature was set against you. Your nature is to submit to him.
“Innocent little thing, aren’t ya?” He says, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets.
You know he smokes, you know they all do. You’ve smelled it on them many times, and it was to be expected. Your father hadn’t started until after he joined the Marines. Your mother hated it. “Dirty habit.” She always whispered as she smelled his uniform and the laundry he brought home from deployment.
He could have had worse ones, you always thought.
You can’t help but watch his lips curl around the cigar, the scent of tobacco permeating the air. His eyes are still on you, your own lips tingling a bit. You think back to how close you had been with Soap, inches from having your first real kiss. You regret it a bit now, not letting him kiss you. He wouldn’t have known he was your first, except perhaps by your awkwardness.
You wonder how many times they’ve all been kissed. You wonder how many times they've kissed each other. You wonder how many barrack bunnies Price has been with, how many other omegas he’s been with. You can’t imagine Ghost being one for barrack bunnies, but then your mind sinks somewhere deeper. Ghost in his mask with an omega bent over the side of his bed, his hand wrapped around the back of their neck...
Another shiver runs down your spine, your lower body beginning to pulse in time with your heart.
“What’s going through that head of yours?” Price asks, still staring at you.
“Soap almost kissed me a couple days ago.” You admit, not trusting yourself not to admit to the other things you’re thinking about.
Price’s brows lift in surprise. “Did you not want him to?”
Want. There’s that word again. You keep hearing it, but you’re not entirely sure what it means anymore. He’s asking to be sure that Soap didn’t force you into anything, even though you can’t imagine the beta doing such a thing. Betas usually weren’t aggressive without good reason, not like alphas.
“Well...no, that’s not it...” You say, your face burning as you begin to regret your choice of topic. “I...I haven’t kissed anyone before...well, not like a real kiss. At The Institute, there was this omega, she was...progressive. Nothing they tried could break her of that and she got into the heads of a few other omegas. One of my bunkmates decided she didn’t want an alpha to be her first kiss, so...I volunteered.”
Price continues to stare at you, a dark look in his eyes. You know some alphas like to watch omegas together. You’ve seen it in movies, things your brothers would put on when they were babysitting, things that would have gotten them hit over the head if your father found out.
“Is that so?” He finally says, flicking some of the ash from the end of his cigar. “Not even a real kiss before you presented?”
You shake your head. “No. I was...the weird kid in school. Most people considered it social suicide to be around me.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet quite a few of them are kicking themselves now.”
“Why didn’t you want Soap to kiss you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. He’s still wondering if he needs to have a long chat with the young Sergeant, or perhaps take other action.
“Well...it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want it.” You say. “I just...thought you might be upset...if you weren’t my first...” You swallow nervously at his stare. “Since you’re pack alpha...you have the right to claim-”
“I wouldn’t care.” He cuts you off, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of him having all the rights to claim you. As if he was uncomfortable with the idea of holding a claim over someone else. “If you want your first kiss to be with one of the others, then you shouldn’t keep yourself from what you want.”
His words echo Dr. Keller’s. It confuses you, their willingness to allow you to want. You’re an omega, you don’t get to want. You get told what to do, what to wear. You get told what to want. You don’t make decisions, you sit and be a good omega for your alpha.
“I don’t know what I want.” You say quietly.
“Think about it.” He says, stubbing out his cigar. “I won’t be upset. Makes me feel a little better, in truth. Makes me feel less like an old creep trying to steal your innocence.”
You try not to smile at his words. “I mean...you are, in a way.”
He tsks at you but his eyes are playful as he checks his watch. “You’re trouble. We’ve got a few minutes before the hour is up. Let’s see if they can beat it.”
You stare out at the treeline, taking deep gulps of the cool air to try and calm yourself as you wait for the others to arrive. You’re still tingling a bit from your conversation with Price, that slight tickle still crawling across the back of your neck. You want him to hold you there, feel his calloused skin against yours, feel the strength of his fingers as they press into your skin. You want him to take all the turmoil away, the fear and the insecurity and the confusion.
You want to kneel for him.
You’re saved from your thoughts as a familiar figure breaks through the treeline, big and hulking and wearing a skull on his face. You’ve never seen him in this mask before, only ever seeing him in his balaclava. It’s a haunting image, only his eyes visible as he looks up at the top of the tower. Soap and Gaz appear behind him, the three of them making for the staircase.
Their boots echo on the steps as they race to the top, Soap the first one to appear with a wide grin.
“Aye, we found the target!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air and spinning.
You yelp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He smells like musk and sweat, and you can’t help but wonder if they ran here. He sets you back on your feet, your legs aching in protest after sitting for too long. The soreness of your morning hike has caught up to you, and you’ll be feeling it for a few days.
“Not bad.” Price says, looking at his watch. “For the first time with a new scent.” He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back and you can have the rest of the day off.”
You let out a whine in protest as Price grabs your backpack, gaining the attention of the four men. “You mean we have to walk back too?”
“It’s not even a kilometer.” Gaz says with a grin.
You pout. “I don��t know how far that is! I already had to walk for two hours this morning. My legs hurt.”
“You didn’t stretch before you started?” Soap asks.
“No! I didn’t know we’d be hiking halfway across the country when I was told to get up at 5 am!” You continue to pout.
“Come on, you’ll survive.” Price says, clipping your backpack across your chest again. “You can sleep for the rest of the day.”
You definitely have blisters, the sides of your feet burning as you walk down the stairs. You’re going to take a very long shower when you get back to base, and then crawl into bed and sleep until someone inevitably knocks because they’re worried about you. You’re still pouting, not having even thought about how you were going to get back to base.
Soap stops at the bottom of the steps, turning to glance at you behind him as he bends down slightly. “Hop on, hen.”
It takes you a moment to conceptualize what he’s doing before you break out in a grin, putting your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself onto his back. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he carries you piggy-back style.
“I’ve lifted weights heavier than you, bonny.” He says, not seeming to struggle at all with carrying you.
“Well, omegas are supposed to be small.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“Aye, like a wee bairn.” Soap laughs.
He carries you all the way back to base, barely even breathing heavily by the time you break the treeline. The rocking motion of being carried, along with your exhaustion, has lulled you into a daze, your head leaning against his as you desperately fight sleep.
You’re jostled awake as Soap gently bounces you on his back. “We’re back, hen.”
You grumble sleepily, holding onto him tighter. “Comfy.”
“You’ll be comfier in bed, love.” Gaz says, stroking your hair.
“Carry me.” You murmur, both of them freezing.
“You sure about that, hen?” Soap asks. “You wan’t tae let us in your space?”
“Mmm...yeah.” You murmur, nuzzling Soap’s shoulder.
You miss the silent conversation between them in your half asleep state, the way Gaz’s hand hesitates on the knob, their slow, cautious steps into your space. It was a big deal, infringing upon an omega’s space. It’s sacred. One could only enter with permission, or if it was an emergency. Infringing on that space without permission could be detrimental.
Soap gently lowers you onto your bed, helping you curl up on your side. Gaz unties your boots, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling off your socks. He lets out a quiet hiss as he spots your raw and blistered feet.
“That’s going to hurt later.” He whispers. “No wonder she didn’t want to walk back.”
“Didnae say nothing either.” Soap says, his fingers trailing your cheek.
“Stubborn little omega.”
Gaz’s words are the last you hear before you’re lost to sleep, your brain forcing you to give in to your exhaustion finally.
It’s knocking at the door that wakes you. You’re not sure what time it is, or what planet you’re on. Your eyes are crusty with sleep, your pillow damp from drooling. You’re in your bed in the barracks, tucked under a blanket. You vaguely remember giving Gaz and Soap permission to enter before you were out again.
It’s still daylight, judging by the light around the edges of your curtains. Or maybe you had slept through the day and it was morning. You can’t tell, feeling a bit like you were hit by a bus and jumped dimensions.
“C’mon lass, ye got tae eat at least one meal today.” Soap’s voice calls through the door.
You let out a groan, pushing yourself up to sit. You haven’t even changed or showered, but your shoes have been removed. You flex your toes, wincing at the sharp pain from them. You pull the blanket off, staring down at your bandaged feet. They must be as blistered and raw as they had felt in your shoes. You don’t want to get up. You’re going to be sore and probably walking with a limp.
You know what they’re going to think.
The stares you’ll get.
Soon it will be for that reason, though, you think. Why not let them think it now? Then maybe by then they’ll be used to it and it’ll be much less mortifying for you.
You get up, padding barefoot to the door. You open it, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?” Your voice sounds rough with sleep, your tongue feeling heavy.
“Almost 1800 hours.” He answers. “Price let ye sleep. He and Gaz already ate. Had something tae take care of.”
You let out a quiet groan as you rub your eyes. You slept all day, past lunch and nearly past dinner. You likely would have kept sleeping, had they let you, but then you’d be up at an ungodly hour having to scrounge for food in the rec room.
“Get some shoes on.” Soap says. “We’ll get food in ye, then ye can sleep more.”
You let out a quiet grumble but do as he says, grabbing your most comfortable pair of shoes before following him out of the barracks. You let your hand slip into his, the base less populated on the weekend. The mess is still busy, though, most of those that stay keeping their schedules even over the weekend.
Soap helps you make your tray before finding Ghost sitting at a table. You deposit your tray across from them before going to grab something to drink. You look over the options, your sleep-drunk brain trying to decide on what you need.
“I recommend coffee.” A voice says behind you.
You spin around, looking up at a familiar face. Your stomach twists nervously, the back of your neck prickling. It’s the soldier that had been staring at you your second day on base, the one Ghost had scared off with his glare.
“You look like you need it.” He says, giving what you assume is supposed to be a friendly smile, except to you it looks like the grin of a hungry wolf in a storybook, and you’re the injured rabbit about to be devoured. You flinch just slightly as he holds out a hand. “I’m Corporal McKinney.”
You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t want to touch him at all. Catcalling you could handle, the stares and the whistles were nothing. None of them have been so brave as to approach you before now, and you’re starting to realize you prefer it that way.
An overwhelming scent suddenly washes over you, the prickling at the back of your neck intensifying. It’s rich and deep, the scent of leather and gunpowder lacing the ozone-like tang of anger, of danger.
“Can I help you, Corporal?” The deep voice rumbles behind you, the warmth close enough all you’d have to do was lean back slightly and you’d be touching him.
The soldier’s eyes lift from you to Ghost behind you, the wicked gleam to them fading as he stares down the giant alpha. “No, sir.” The soldier swallows thickly. “Just thought I’d introduce myself to the new omega on base. Figured we’d be seeing a lot of her around.”
“She’s no concern of yours.” Ghost says, a dangerous rumble vibrating at the edge of his voice. “You were given the briefing.”
He hesitates and you know he’s measuring the risk of staying, of saying something else. It’s not just the threat of a dangerous alpha, but also of his superior. “Of course, sir.” He finally says, eyeing you once more before he turns on his heel, leaving the mess.
“What do you want?”
You turn on your heel, staring up at Ghost. You’re shaking a little, staring up at him wide-eyed. You no longer feel the haze of sleep, wide awake and alert. Ghost is staring down at you, his scent far less prominent than it had been before.
“To drink.” He motions to the selection, waiting on you to answer.
You stare at the options, your brain trying hard to snap back into the present, to comprehend what you’re looking at. You’re on edge, on high alert after that confrontation.
“W-Water please.” You manage to stutter out,
“Go sit back down. I’ll get it.” He says, turning his back to you.
You scurry back to the table, still trembling as you take your seat again. You’re getting stares, likely from the change in your scent. It’s alerting every alpha and beta in close proximity, their instincts reacting to the scent of fear, of an threatened omega.
“Ye alright, hen?” Soap asks, giving you a worried look. The scent of beta washes over you, Soap projecting his scent to try and cover yours and calm you all at once.
You nod, trying to swallow the panic before you alert the entire mess to your current emotional state. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.”
Ghost returns with a glass of water, setting it in front of you before taking his seat again.
“Thank you.” You murmur, taking a long drink of it. It’s ice cold, the sensation shocking you back into reality a bit.
You’re still trembling slightly as you eat, the back of your neck still prickling. You glance around the quickly emptying mess, eyes following every person that walks too close to the table. You know you’re safe. Soap and Ghost would make quick work of anyone who tried anything.
Ghost did make quick work of the alpha that had approached you.
You’re still in a bit of disbelief that Ghost had come to your aid. You remember the anger burning in his scent, the rumble at the edge of his voice. An alpha poised for a fight. Of course, you were being cornered by another alpha. You don’t doubt Soap could have easily won that fight if he had to, but an alpha had the natural advantage in a fight against other alphas. If it had been a beta cornering you, would he have still come to your aid? Or would he have watched and let Soap handle it?
You're drawn from your thoughts as Soap’s phone rings, and he dismisses himself from the table to answer it. You wonder who it might be. Family maybe? Price? You wish you had someone that would call you regularly. You will, once they start leaving you.
You’re left alone with Ghost, your eyes trying to look anywhere but at him. He takes your tray once you’re done, going to dump it before motioning for you to follow. You’re still a bit shaken, though you’ve managed to get your trembling under control, as well as your scent.
He leads you back towards the barracks, your pace faster to keep up with him. Your feet hurt, but you’re eager to get back to the familiar safety of the barracks.
You stop as a whistle sounds through the air, Ghost’s steps faltering as well.
“Gonna go spread your legs for that freak, bunny?” A voice calls out across the courtyard. “I’m sure I could offer you a better time. At least you’ll be able to see my face.”
The smell of ozone washes over you again, burning straight to some primal part of your brain. You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion, or the emotions still reeling from your confrontation in the mess, but you turn on your heel, stalking over to the group of soldiers. You’re trembling again, but not out of fear. The anger has gone straight to your instincts, burning hot through your veins.
The soldiers laugh as you approach, the one that had spoken grinning vilely at you. “Gonna take me up on my offer, omega?” The sound of your title from his lips nearly makes you shudder in disgust. It’s wrong, it sounds wrong being said in such a way. “I’d love to bend you over and stare at that sweet ass all night-”
It’s not until your hand is throbbing that you register what happened. The soldier stumbles back a step, hand moving to his face. Your hand is balled in a fist, knuckles throbbing from the punch you delivered to his face. The next few moments seem to move in slow motion, your body pushed backwards as a hulking form comes to stand in front of you. The scent of ozone is still burning hot in your nose, anger pulsing through your body. Your ears are ringing, your hands refusing to unball from the fists they’ve closed into. You’re breathing heavily, eyes training on a small speck of mud on the back of Ghost’s jacket.
“-You even so much as look in her direction again, I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them to the back of a humvee and drag you all the way to London, understood?” The dangerous rumble is back at the edge of his voice, his own hands balled into fists.
“Loud and clear, sir.” The soldier spits out, massaging his face from your punch.
A rough hand closes around your arm, making you stumble as you’re half dragged towards the barracks. You’re breathing heavily, breaths coming in gasps as the flood of emotions through you grows to almost be too much. You’re led down the hall towards the rec room, Ghost pushing you inside.
“Sit.” He snaps, pointing at the couch.
You scramble to sit where he pointed, your brain beginning to move in autopilot as you cradle your throbbing hand to your chest. It’s still curled in a fist, the adrenaline pumping through you preventing you from uncurling your fingers. You try to steady your breathing as Ghost digs around in the fridge for a moment. You flinch as the door slams closed, Ghost dropping an ice pack on the coffee table before he takes a seat next to you on the couch.
He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him rather roughly. He forces your fingers to uncurl, his own rough fingers digging into your hand, poking and prodding. He moves your fingers, bending your wrist and moving your arm. “It’s not broken.” He says, grabbing the ice pack and slapping it across your knuckles. “Luckily.”
You’re still trembling, your hand lifting subconsciously to hold the ice pack in place. You feel dazed, not unlike you had earlier when you’d been pulled from sleep, only this time you can feel the emotions still pulsing through you. The remnants of anger, the disgust, the fear both from attacking an alpha, and the reprimanding you’re sure you’re due for doing such a thing.
“I shouldn’t have done that.” You murmur, feeling far away, outside of your body looking in.
“Probably not.” Ghost says.
You turn slightly to look at him, pupils dilated as you simultaneously appear to see him and look straight through him. “Price is gonna find out.”
Ghost nods again, the burn of ozone gone from his scent. “He’ll believe you, though. Anything you tell him, he’s going to believe you over what anyone else says.”
You stare at him, the skull mask from earlier gone, leaving him just in his balaclava. His eyelashes are blonde, you think as you take him in, trying to ground yourself. His skin looks soft, but that could just be the omega screaming at you. You expect him to get up, to leave you alone until you find the will to move, or one of the others finds you. Yet, he stays where he is, eyes focused across the room as you sit there.
“You’re a purebred alpha.” You say, breaking the silence with the thought that had come to mind earlier. You need to keep talking, to keep your mind steady while you relax.
“How did you figure it out?” He asks, not denying it.
“Your scent.” You say, recalling earlier in the mess, the way his scent had permeated your entire body. You hadn’t just sensed it, you had felt it. His emotions, his anger, the hint of desperation for the Corporal to make the smart decision and walk away. “It’s different from other alphas. Price smells good and I’d like to roll around in his scent, but yours hits some deep primal part of my brain.” You say, turning slowly to face him. “Makes sense you’d end up in a position like this. You’re supposed to be like, an apex human.” You laugh quietly. “Just a couple of purebreds. What are the odds?”
“Very high.” He answers.
You laugh again. “Yeah, I know. Both of my parents were purebreds, and my grandparents. Both of them came from a long line of purebreds.” Your brows pinch into a frown. “I didn’t see it in your file, though.”
“I don’t want it to be.” He explains.
“Makes sense.” You say. “If I’d had that choice I’d have it left out too. As soon as someone sees it, that’s how they measure your worth. It’s not about you anymore, it’s your status they want.” You lift the ice, moving your fingers. Your hand is sore, your knuckles starting to swell a bit.
“It’ll bruise.” He says, staring down at your hand.
“‘Spose it could have been worse.” You say, grimacing at the ache pulsing all the way to your shoulder.
“Yeah,” He scoffs. “You could have broken your arm with a punch like that.”
“‘S not my fault the CIA didn’t teach me much.” You murmur. “They mostly made me run.” You remember the hours and hours you spend running circles around the gym. So many circles, over and over again.
Get involved in their hobbies. Your brain flicks through that section of the book, an idea beginning to form in your head. You’d considered it a few days ago, when you first read that chapter. Ghost speaks in violence and warfare, fighting and defending. How do you bond with the apex of humankind?
“Teach me to fight.”
His eyes shift slowly until he’s looking at you. You wish you could see the rest of his face, read his expression. His eyes don't give you much to go off of, something he'd likely perfected over the years.
“Or, at least defend myself.” You continue, fighting the urge to shrink back under his gaze. “I know, Price already told me to run first, but what if that's not an option? Am I gonna throw a shitty punch and hope it works? Aim between the legs and hope I'm faster than they can block? I promise I won't go around trying to fight asshole alphas.”
He continues to stare at you, his eyes locked on yours. Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach twisting nervously but there's no challenge in his gaze, not even a playful one like you'd initiated with Price. He's simply staring.
You wonder what he's looking for, what he's thinking. Will he laugh at you for asking? Tell you to ask someone else? Get Price to do it since he’s actually your alpha?
“Fine.” He grunts, breaking eye contact first as he pushes himself to stand. “We start Monday. Early.”
A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him leave the rec room. You may have just found your way into Ghost’s heart, or at least a way to get him to tolerate your presence.
Monday. Early.
You’ll be ready.
Taglist Part 1:
@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10
#call of duty fic#call of duty#cod fic#john price x reader#captain price x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#a/b/o#alpha beta omega dynamics#omegaverse#x reader
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please be real | p.js
ex!jay x fem!reader
warnings: angst, heartache, smut (mdni), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, teasing, pet names (princess, baby), crying, mentions of alcohol, drunk jay, pure heartbreak in the beginning, not proofread, anything else lmk
synopsis: after a six-year relationship, you and jongseong part ways due to different needs for the future. when jongseong's first birthday post-breakup arrives, his struggle with your absence reaches a breaking point, prompting a late-night call from his friend that consequently reignites emotions and unresolved feelings.
wc: 9.4k
a/n: hi! it's me and it's jay's birthday so i wrote him a little something something. i didn't initially intend to rip my heart out as i wrote this yet here i am. this was oddly a healing one to write but i must warn you it does mention the reader not wanting to have children so if that doesn't appeal to you then this probs isn't the fic for you! as always, like, comments, feedback, etc. is all appreciated! ilysm and happy bday jay <3
A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.
Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.
Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.
“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.
“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…
Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.
You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.
“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”
“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really.
You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver.
This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern.
Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”
Jay. Park Jongseong.
It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.
Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your 6-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.
It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once in a lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.
But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.
And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.
Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.
Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.
The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.
His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.
“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.
As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.
Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.
Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.
“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.
With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”
Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle.
You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.
As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart.
He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.
As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.
With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.
Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.
An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.
Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward, “Jjongie? It’s me, baby, look at me,” you say calmly, trying to reassure him with your soft voice.
As your fingers gently encircle his clenched fist, Jongseong's body tenses at the touch. Slowly, he turns his gaze towards you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.
He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.
"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.
Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own anguish, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.
"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.
He leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation he's been yearning for.
It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.
Turning your face to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”
“You sure?” Jake asks, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.
“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you.
Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves cumbersome as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.
"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.
His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.
With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.
"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.
Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.
You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount he consumed.
“Like two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend.
"Oh, baby..." you sigh softly, feeling a wave of empathy wash over you. Returning your attention to Jongseong, you press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. His response is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace.
You need to get him home, he’s a mess and the longer he stays like this, the more his body is going to wear out.
With a gentle hand, you stroke his hair, your touch a soothing caress against his trembling form. Despite the chaos swirling around you, you find a semblance of peace in this intimate moment, anchored by the bond that still lingers between you.
"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, drawing back as he eases up his grip on you. His friends go to help you but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."
Sunghoon shakes his head, concern etched on his face. "He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the flat without us," he protests.
But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up, "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute.
Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.
Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose now that he has relaxed slightly.
You slide into the driver's seat, the engine humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.
_____
Arriving at his house makes you more nervous than before. This wasn’t just his flat, it used to be your shared home, the place you lived for 2 and half years and made countless memories in.
You were the one to move out and find your own place, thinking it was best since your work was further away and you could find an apartment closer to it. But the truth is, you just couldn’t face being reminded of him in each room and in the pieces of furnishings.
It was selfish of you to leave him with the remnants of your relationship surrounding him, all you thought about was you and your needs, neglecting to think about how he might feel being surrounded by nothing but memories.
Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.
As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.
You push your thoughts down and make your way to your once-shared bedroom, walking through the memories and heaving your ex-boyfriend along slowly. His nose nudges into your hair, sweeping in your scent as he loses himself in the feeling of you.
As you reach the familiar threshold, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet longing. This room, once a sanctuary where you both shared your laughter and bodies, now serves as a poignant reminder of the love you've lost.
Gently, you ease Jongseong onto the bed, sitting him up, “I’m going to get you some clean boxers okay?” you ask him but he’s not here, not really, so you make your way to the drawers on the other side of the room.
Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.
“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.
Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.
You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hellow Kitty print that you've always teased him about.
Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.
As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.
His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.
"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.
“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.
Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he mumbles as his lips ghost over yours.
He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.
But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.
“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”
Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave.
"Please, Princess," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own.
His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.
With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.
Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.
You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while.
Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.
You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.
“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.
_____
Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.
Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes.
Even if he did want to open them he couldn’t because they are being held together so tight by something. Was he crying last night? Actually, what even happened last night?
He replays the fragments of the evening in his mind, a few scattered images begin to surface - Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the raucous atmosphere of the bar, and the ill-advised decision to ride the mechanical bull. And then nothing.
As he tries to recounter the night, you see him attempt to pry his eyes open and decide to help him out. Swiping your thumb over his eyes, you wipe away the mix of his dried-in tears and sleep. He looks so confused when you touch him and his body tenses.
Either he is having a severe case of hallucinations to the point where he is starting to physically feel you or the girl that he took home last night resembles your touch. God, how he hoped it was the first one.
Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.
“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.
You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong.
All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.
He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.
The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.
Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.
As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.
"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."
You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.
The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously.
All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”
“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.
"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."
You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements—this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.
But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.
You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.
“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.
Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”
It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly.
“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”
Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.
“That’s okay.”
“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?
"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"
Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is laying himself bare to you.
But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."
You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.
"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?
Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.
So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.
"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.
In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you.
"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.
"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.
Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.
You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.
His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.
You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.
It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.
Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds.
The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself.
You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.
He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.
Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.
“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.
"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.
With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.
Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.
"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.
With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.
You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.
You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.
As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.
Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.
“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.
Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.
But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.
“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.
“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.
Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”
“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.
Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.
With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.
His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.
"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire.
Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.
"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"
You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."
Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.
"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."
Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.
"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.
The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need.
Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”
You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.
You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."
With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."
As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.
Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.
His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."
In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."
Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.
With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.
Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.
“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.
After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.
Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.
As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.
With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.
In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!”
His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.
After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked.
But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.
He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.
“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.
You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”
“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.
The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you.
Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.
You need one another to extinguish the fire.
“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.
“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.”
Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.
His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t.
He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.
“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”
He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream.
You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.
“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.
Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.
“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.
Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.
“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.
So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.
Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”
You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.
“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.
So with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.
#enhypen smut#enha smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen angst#jay smut#park jongseong smut#aj writes#jay x reader#park jongseong x reader
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can you pretend to be my boyfriend?; m.k.
pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader
summary: the boys pretend to be your boyfriend in order to save you from a creepy stranger.
warnings: inappropriate behaviour towards the reader, female!reader.
moon knight masterlist | all masterlists
steven
you lean over the gift shop counter, eyes wide as you ask, “can you pretend to be my boyfriend?”
poor steven is just confused at first.
“pretend to be—wait, what do you mean—?”
he doesn’t get a chance to finish that thought because the man who’s been trying to flirt with you all day suddenly rounds the corner, and you’re out of time.
“there you are!” a smarmy grin, eyes looking you up and down. it makes your skin crawl. “I was worried that you might’ve left before I could get a chance to talk to you again.”
“yeah, wouldn’t want that, now, would we?” you mutter.
it clicks in steven’s brain then, though not exactly fast enough for him to come up with a retort other than, “right, yeah, right.”
the man’s attention doesn’t waver from you, however, and you squirm on the spot. time for a hail mary, you suppose, turning back to steven. “are we still good for lunch, babe?”
“oh, yes, lunch—right, of course, love,” steven nods, more confident. “I just need to finish up some last things here, if you’re willing to wait a bit?”
you’re ready to say no worries, take all the time you need when the guy scoffs, barely sparing steven a glance. “a sales clerk? really?”
“better than the wet tissue you are, bruv,” steven snaps back, so fast that he surprises himself a little. something simmers under the man’s expression, but steven’s faster. “do I need to call security?”
that finally gets to the guy, who just mutters curses under his breath before finally pissing off. your smile is genuine now when you look at steven. “thanks for that.”
“no worries—are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” you nod. “don’t suppose you’re actually free right now, are you? the least I could do is buy you lunch as thanks.”
luckily for the both of you, he is, and he rounds the counter with a wide smile on his face before you lead the two of you out.
marc
he’s just waiting to place his order at a coffee shop when you walk in, some guy hot on your heels and prattling on despite your obvious discomfort.
“oh, hey, babe!” he doesn’t even realize you’re calling out to him until he meets your gaze, and the pleading look in your eyes is all he needs to understand what’s going on. “sorry I’m late.”
“it’s all good.” marc knows the drill, injecting warmth into his smile as he walks up to greet you. he gives you a small nod, letting you know that he’s got your back as he slips his hand into yours. “was worried about you for a minute there.”
“wait, are you two…?” the man looks between you, eyebrows furrowed.
“mhm.” he keeps his tone light, but is secretly watching like a hawk for any signs of escalation. when the guy’s mouth twists into a scowl, marc subtly tugs you behind him.
“you never said you had a boyfriend.” the venom in the words is terrifying, but marc doesn’t flinch.
“no need to cause a scene, man,” he says, tone amicable, but you take a peek at his face and his expression is as hard as stone. “now, if you’ll excuse us.”
marc leads you back into the line to order, squeezing your hand gently to stop you from looking over your shoulder. there’s the heavy stomping of feet before you hear the bell ring over the door as the guy leaves.
the relief is palpable. you finally let go of marc’s hand, face warm as you smile sheepishly at him. “thanks for the help. let me buy you a coffee?”
“don’t worry about it.” he shakes his head, but you offer again and, well, if you insist. he doesn’t mind spending the rest of his afternoon with you at all.
jake
he’s the one to notice your discomfort from across the pub, how you subtly shift away from the man leaning in close to speak directly into your ear.
when you meet his eyes, you mouth, help? and jake doesn’t even think twice before downing the rest of his drink and making his way to your table. he slaps a hand down onto the guy’s shoulder, making him jump. “think you’re in my seat, hombre.”
the man’s greasy smirk twitches, obviously thinking that jake is interrupting his ‘game’ or whatever the fuck. “nah, man, I’m just—”
“trying to hit on my girl, yeah, I can see that.” jake grins at him, but you get the impression that he’s baring his teeth more than anything. he looks to you, and his gaze softens. “you okay, there, baby?”
“better now,” you say, and it’s not a lie.
the guy turns to jake fully, sizing him up. “you think you’re so tough, huh?”
jake doesn’t even blink, just raises a single eyebrow as if daring for him to suggest taking the matter outside. it’s not even a competition, because the man backs off a moment later, angrily slipping out of the booth without looking back.
you don’t breathe until the guy finally leaves the building, at which point a heavy sigh falls from your lips.
“the nerve of that guy,” jake mutters, clicking his tongue.
“right?” you shake your head, then gesture to the now-vacant seat beside you. “care for a drink? I think I owe you after your help back there.”
“you owe me nothing,” he corrects, but slides in beside you anyways, taking your offer with a smile.
#moon knight x reader#marc spector x reader#steven grant x reader#jake lockley x reader#moon knight#marc spector#steven grant#jake lockley#moon knight fanfic#my writing
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Sealed 1
2 3
Sukuna had been betrayed and sealed away by fellows sourcers.
The last thing you remember was How you pulled him with you, he was just starting to learn his cursed technique. It was as devastating as his fathers technique, but he still didn’t understand how to use it properly, you couldn’t find your husband, where was he, you detached frantically carrying your son out the palace as you ran, the frantic screams of the palace help, where was Uraume you couldn’t find them either.
You’d be a fool to run straight into battle, your own skills weren’t as strong as Sukuna’s but your experience had definitely left you well off, but the Toll of Carrying the frightened Yuji and fighting as freely as you could was draining your Stamina, you could feel how you were being surrounded. Silk kimono torn from battle, you tried to outrun and take cover outside the palace after Sourcerer’s had made it in.
Just as you were going to make your escape you felt the burning against your skin before you saw the red chains dragging you back, holding Yuji to look st you in a panicked rushed voice “Run Yuji, Find Uraume or find My lady in waiting the one who always wears white robes with a black belt. Don’t let anyone catch you and don’t trust anyone until you find either your dads help or mine. Please Go.” He watched as your dug your hand into the ground catching a rock he had tried to burry in the ground long ago, “no! Mommy i don’t wanna leave you come with me.” He didn’t move from your arms as you tried to set him down “Yuji, please.” You managed to set him down holding on to that large rock muscles shaking “I’ll come get you when it’s over but you need to be safe for now.”
His teary eyes tore into your heart and shook your head no with a weak smile “Don’t cry baby” using your free hand to wipe away the un fallen tears, “Promise you’ll come back for me?” “I promise baby, I won’t leave you alone longer than I need to, I’ll be right back.” He held his little hand “Promise me like you do daddy.”
Your heart aching you took his little hand, the giant ghost of chains wrapped around your wrist and his leaving a faint star like mark on his upper fore arm and yours “See I promise, now go!” He nodded and started his run, finally out of site you let go of the rock thrashing as you’d were being dragged grabbing the chain and pulling yourself up, the chain around your ankle had become the weapon once you came face to face with the sourcerer who thought they could so easily dominate you.
🖤🩶🩶🩶🖤🩶🩶🩶🖤🩶🩶🩶🖤🩶🩶🩶🖤
The smell of smoke, your dizzy head on the floor, Sukuna was i front of you at a distance trying to break from all the chains and seals they had used on him. You tried to raise your head only to be kicked back down, causing Sukuna to thrash and yell the chains sounding like they were ready to break
“Su..kuna.” Your weak voice as you caught his eyes he looked at you, raging more when you could barely keep your head up and eyes open, “Yu.. where’s yu-“ the cries of your son forcing you up to turn and scream, the heart breaking cry as your watched a group of men carrying your son by the back of his robes, he kicked cried and screamed and looked at you when he heard your cry, the women there didn’t even flinch when you cried and screamed out hideously, your voice resembling the screams of curses and the cries of Demons. Your sons cries called out “ MOMMY! DADDY!”
“YUJI.” Sukuna’s sharp Yell as he managed to stand in his Chains
“Yuji!” Your voice hoarse as you forced your flesh to burn against the chains so you could move “yuji…” the “Ryomen Sukuna you have-“ your consciousness was in and out over the sounds of your heavy breathing and crying and you didn’t all you could to drag yourself to Yuji,
“As a result you WILL be sealed away, but first to make sure this never happens again, We will also ve sealing your son in the lines of time to assure you never come across him again, you and your supposed wife are far to powerful to risk in the line of time you will both be sealed in your respective manner.
Forced to watch as Sourcerer’s circled yuji ignoring his cries and please, ignores your screeches and tears as your son looked at you one last time with teary red eyes and red cheeks, “Daddy.. Mommy.”
Your heart shattered and screamed thrashing around when your son was gone completely. The prison realm was opened around you, and you turned to Sukuna who was surround, the chants around him as they started to seal him one by one, you locked eyes with him, your words “I love you.” His face just as he managed to say it back he was gone. Your head hanging low as you stared at the box “any last words cursed woman.” You shook your head “no words just this.” In a last minute attempt you forced out all of your cursed energy in one solid push, everyone fell, you fell weak, the man informe of your who had almost been severed managed out a choked “close.” the prison realm closing forcing you in
There you sat in the prison realm on a throne of skeletons begging to reach up and touch you. You were tired but there was no doubt in your mind now you had all the time in this work your cursed technique would be sharpened until the day you would make your escape.
2
#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x you#jjk anime#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna thirst#jujutsu kaisen#reincarnated Sukuna’s wife#sukuna x wife reader#sukuna x reincarnated reader#yuji and mom reader#yuji x mom reader#Sealed Away
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If It All Fell
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Nothing big in this one. Memory loss?? Overprotectiveness?? Azriel losing it (but not that much just yet)??
a/n: Hi this is going to be a series :) thank you for reading <3
Part 2 ♡
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
As you blinked through the haziness, a dull throb echoed along the base of your skull. You sat up abruptly, feeling rocks and twigs digging into the backs of your legs, and winced as several shouts attacked your senses. You recognized none of them.
Gods, your head hurt.
A few more blinks and the sun made an appearance, light assaulting your too-sensitive eyes. The leaves beneath your hands crunched and blew away in the balmy breeze, a few flecks of green still stuck to your palm as you brought it up to rub your head.
“Don’t,” a feminine voice warned, and it was then that you pinpointed one of the shouts from earlier. But it was warmer now, calm. “Don’t touch your head, y/n. Azriel and Cas are getting help.”
You scrunched your face up but obeyed the command, taking steady breaths to try and manage the pain. The woman in front of you—blonde hair, brown eyes, a fierce expression—was like no one you had ever seen before. She was so incredibly beautiful you weren’t sure if you were actually awake.
You took a pause.
And then another.
Who was the last person you had seen?
“Where am I?” you asked instead, trying to appear sane. Your voice sounded unfamiliar.
The woman’s expression pinched. “You’re in Spring Court. You remember that, don’t you? Rhysand sent us.”
“Rhysand?” you repeated, the name foreign on your tongue. “Sent us for what?”
“Well, we were supposed to be rallying Tamlin into re-fortifying his borders to win back the Summer Court’s good graces, but that beast is an idiot. Forging agreements with witches was quite possibly the worst move he could have made.”
“Witches?”
“I know, unbelievable,” the blonde ranted, sitting back on her heels beside you. “We came to help only to find out he had helped himself to the wicked. I knew he was distraught after Feyre, but to turn to this?”
The pounding in your head was making it increasingly difficult to follow the tale the woman was spinning. Perhaps if you had more backstory, more information, you would understand what she was talking about.
Desperate for that connection, you winced as you asked, “Um, not to offend, but… who are you?”
Her aggravated expression crumpled into one of shock and concern. Her mouth parted, her brows came together at a point, and then she shifted, bringing her hands to your shoulders. When you flinched at the touch, the woman pulled her hands back, her fingers curling into her palms. “You don’t recognize me?” she asked, trepidation lining her tone.
You shook your head, immediately regretting the action as pain shot up your neck.
“Not at all?” she whispered. When your face remained blank, she pulled her hands into her lap. “Do you know who you are?”
Another lapse in silence.
“My Gods…”
Darkness materialized nearby—swirling darkness. It reminded you of shadows and brought you a sense of peace for the first time since you opened your eyes.
But then people started emerging from the darkness, taking up space in the vast forest, and that peace collapsed. Two large men with wings stomped against the twig-covered floor, causing a raucous disturbance as they began hurrying an older woman out from behind them. They both spoke in low, rushed tones and you wanted all the sound to stop.
You ignored the woman’s directions from before and squeezed your head in your hands, your eyes snapping shut. It didn’t work, and you hadn’t expected it to, but Gods did your head hurt. It hurt and it was plagued by an impossible pressure that wouldn’t seem to let up.
“Mor, how long has she been awake?” one of the men asked. You felt him kneel beside you, felt him place rough, textured hands on your wrists in an attempt to pry your hands down. But he was gentle—so very gentle.
“Azriel, she—”
“Mor, if you could move aside. I need to look at her,” a much older voice chimed in.
There was shuffling around you, new hands pressing to your face. You heard whispering that you couldn’t make out, and then the panic set in.
You didn’t know these people. When you first woke up, the disorientation was focal; you were concerned about the pounding in your head and your whereabouts and that was it. But there were so many people here now, and you didn’t know any of them.
You didn’t know who you were. Did they know who you were? They had to.
“Majda, stop. You’re scaring her,” the man beside you, Azriel you’d heard him be called, practically hissed.
Majda only hummed. “I am doing the job you brought me here to do. If I can’t work around a mating bond I will send you away, Shadowsinger.”
Your breath came out in faster huffs, each one deeper than the last. You opened your eyes to try and gain some footing in the situation, still keeping your hands glued to your head.
Your gaze went out before it went in, and you saw the blonde woman, Mor, beside a much larger man. His shoulder-length hair was messy and windswept, and he sent you a bittersweet, sympathetic smile that you couldn’t replicate. He watched with furrowed brows as your eyes darted from him, to Mor, to the wide forest around you.
“I still don’t see why we couldn’t take her home first,” the man standing by the trees grumbled. “She would be more comfortable there.”
“We didn’t want to move her with a head injury,” Azriel growled. “Not one from a witch.”
His voice sent your attention towards him. Azriel was on his knees beside you, holding your wrists with his thumb circling the back of your hand in delicate strokes. He was painfully beautiful and you were left to wonder, yet again, if you were truly awake. When your gazes met, something foreign pulled at your ribs and the pressure sent an unexpected scream past your lips. You hunched over in a panic, yanking yourself away from those beside you.
That wasn’t right. None of this felt right.
The older woman, Majda, cursed, staring after you as you pushed yourself further and further away. Each movement sent a new ache aflame in your head, but that didn’t stop you because you needed to get away. Your feet kicked up dirt and rocks and your hands tore with the effort but this wasn’t right.
Azriel reached you before you could hit the tree just inches from your back. He held your head in his own hands and locked you in his gaze, keeping you trapped in the yellows and browns and the flecks that joined them. He took exaggerated breaths, wings flared out to block out the sun, and then he began whispering.
It took a moment for you to understand the words, your heavy breaths mostly drowning them out.
Something swished in the distance. More whispering, more secrets.
“You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
When Azriel’s voice finally came through, it was like a lifeline.
“I’m here, my love. You’re safe. I know it hurts, I know.”
It was odd, finding peace in a stranger. The shadows that seemed to dance around him swirled into shapes that framed your skin, and some of the panic felt foolish in their presence. They twisted and curved, somehow amplifying the cool tone of Azriel’s voice as he promised you things you had no capacity to understand.
But he never stopped talking, not even when your gaze left his to follow his shadows instead. If anything, the action seemed to spur on the small beings more, and you wondered—for a brief moment—if he was controlling them.
Something like amazement seeped into your panic as you whispered, “Who are you?”
You didn’t know the man in front of you, that much was true, but he looked so… broken at your words. Something akin to pain clashed with his beautiful features as his jaw clenched to an unnatural degree. You were surprised that his teeth didn’t crack beneath the pressure. You wondered what else he could withstand—what atrocities he’d seen to make his eyes turn so dark when you spoke your words out loud.
“No,” Azriel growled, chin hooking over his shoulder. His wings pulled back to reveal a new man, but this one looked slightly different from the others. No wings, different eyes. “You stay out of her head, Rhysand.”
Rhysand. He was the one that had sent you here.
The concern on Rhysand’s face looked unnatural, like it didn’t belong there. “Az, it could help. Let me help her.”
“You could make it worse. We have no idea what that witch did to her.” As Azriel spoke, shadows began to cover you more and more. Your sight became dim, your body camouflaged in darkness.
“Looking in could be the only way to figure that out.” The next bout of silence was uncomfortable. The pounding in your head persisted, exacerbating to the point of tears along your waterline. “I know what you’re feeling, Azriel. I get it. But I want to help her, brother. You know I would never hurt her.”
A twig snapped beneath a boot.
Azriel growled low in his chest.
The pounding gave way to a sharp pain, and it made your senses lighter, less focused.
You couldn't remember ever passing out before, but you thought it might feel like this.
“Stay away from her.”
“She doesn’t remember you, Azriel.”
A choked breath. “Don’t touch my mate.”
Darkness that surpassed the shadows finally granted you a reprieve from the pain.
Maybe you'd wake up and this would all make sense.
Part 2 ♡
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel spymaster#azriel angst
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inevitable (BLACKPINK Jennie)
word count: 7.5K
(something light, in a sense it’s the prequel to best behavior, but my apologies for not getting this out when it was supposed to be, enjoy!)
-- --
The question is out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. It’s become a habit more than anything, but you promised it would be something you break in the new year.
You just didn’t expect the answer to change.
“Okay, Tuesday works.”
Your jaw almost drops, but your lips stay in a straight line, slowly curling up. If you’re being honest, you want to scream at the top of your lungs because finally.
“Sweet,” You answer nonchalantly. “I’ll text you, yeah?”
“Sure,” The woman stands from the barstool, a soft smile on her face. One you’re not familiar with, especially directed at you. It’s sincere, and personal that it almost feels like you’re seeing a side that’s been waiting to be shown. There’s something in your chest that blooms. “See you then.”
A small wave from her friend has you returning it back, watching them walk away. You hear giggles, and you know she could never keep her excitement to herself.
It sets in quickly as the door shuts behind the pair, internally fist pumping. All the time and effort finally paid off.
Kim Jennie said yes.
-- --
You laughed at Lisa’s joke, sipping your beer as you leaned against the counter. She was telling a story about how one of her dancers walked in on her changing, ogling a second too long that she ran out of the room. Only things like this would happen to her.
Someone asked a question when she walked in.
You almost dropped your drink because there was no one that had ever caught your attention like she did.
She practically lit up the room, and for some reason, you felt a little lighter. You didn’t believe in love at first sight, but this felt pretty damn close.
You played your cool, not wanting to seem too forward, too eager, to talk to her. That didn’t mean your eyes glanced away, they kept searching for her in the room as Jisoo pulled her into whoever they walked by. There were handshakes and hugs, and you wondered where you’d fall.
Your heartbeat lightly thudded on your chest when they were a few feet away. You’d soon get to meet her, and you hoped you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself.
“Jendeukie,” Jisoo fondly called her as they stood in front of you. She introduced your name. You froze when your eyes met her—love at first sight never seemed so close, because you’d have to bet she felt it too.
Whatever it was.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Jennie extended her hand out, a shy smile in her face
“Right back at you,” Throwing her a wink as her hand gripped around your palm. You noticed how soft her hand was, small too, but there was something about it that just fit right.
“Oppa! Don’t you dare,” Jisoo slapped your arm enough for your hand to drop Jennie’s. “I refuse to let the mandu be part of your list. Absolutely not.” She shook her head, disapproving already when you hadn’t said more than four words to her.
Jisoo dragged Jennie away before you could respond.
Lisa chuckled next to you, shaking her head. She knew you too well to know you were instantly attracted to the woman. It was obvious on your face. “Please don’t.”
“I’m going to marry her,” You said simply.
Lisa almost spit out her drinking. You weren’t one to mention commitment when you were dating all these women, let alone marriage.
“What?”
“I’m going to marry Jennie,” You shrugged, as if it was for certain, a small smile formed on your face when your eyes met her across the room.
A smile returned.
--
You groaned, frustrated again at Jennie’s rejection. You didn’t understand why she was being difficult. You thought she was interested in you.
“Unnie said no again, huh?” Rosie asked, chuckling as the waiter took away the empty plates.
“I literally don’t get it,” You shook your head at your phone screen, re-reading Jennie’s no. “Does she not like me?”
Rosie rolled her eyes, used to your dramatics. “She probably doesn’t like you the way you do if she’s said no four times already.”
It had been a month since you met Jennie, and you saw her frequently, thanks to Lisa inviting you to come along. At first, you didn’t want to go, but she’d slip in that Jennie would be there too. It was an easy decision to join whatever they did, even though you’d end up taking an insane amount of pictures.
Jennie was shy.
Or, at the very least, shy around you.
You would describe it as ‘shy’ because she hardly interacted with you. You had to approach her first, grasping at straws to have any kind of conversation with her.
You were able to get her number one night after clubbing, mentioning this restaurant that you thought she would like. It was the perfect segue to ask her out, but you later saw on her socials she went with one of her friends. She did, however, message you a thank you for the recommendation.
“I don’t get why you’re trying so hard,” Rosie commented as you pouted at your device. “Jennie’s never had a boyfriend, and sorry if it’s harsh, but I genuinely don’t think you’d be her first serious relationship.”
Something you knew very early on, but you were aware of the effect she had on men and women alike. You witnessed a lot of people ask her out. She entertained it, flirting right in front of you.
It wasn’t like you could say anything. You were just some guy that was around Jennie. You weren’t even sure she considered you a friend.
“You’re right,” You flip your phone over. “It’s probably not meant to be.”
You knew you wouldn’t listen to Rosie. There was something in your gut that told you to keep trying.
It felt inevitable.
--
You were almost at your breaking point. You didn’t know what would push you over the edge, but you were sure it was close.
Jennie said no again.
You offhandedly asked her to dinner after walking her to the train station. You took the opportunity to be alone with her while the others took a car to their respective homes.
You were thankful for your ‘friendship’ that had developed over the past few months. It had gotten to the point where you could hold a conversation, and she wouldn’t look at you with a blank stare. She even sometimes approached you, asking how you were and what was going on in your life.
Yet, you couldn’t figure it out.
Some days she’d always be near you, keeping you within arms reach.
Other days, she’d hardly look your way.
Rosie was also confused by Jennie’s attitude toward you. It took some time, but after a while, over a quick bite after work, she asked you if anything was going on. You couldn’t give her an answer since you were trying to make something happen, but rejection was always the outcome. Rosie didn’t know what was going on. She even went on to tell you that she asked Jennie herself how she felt about you, but she couldn’t get an answer out of her.
You were rolling with the punches at this point.
Christmas was around the corner and you wanted to do coupley things with someone, but the someone you wanted to do it with was making it difficult.
The worst part of hearing another rejection was that you had to see Jennie this evening.
Sana was hosting a holiday get-together slash birthday party before your friends leave to spend the end of the year with their families. She was adamant that you had to go because there was a surprise that you didn’t want to miss. When it came to Sana, you had to be weary. It took a bit of convincing, but you reluctantly said yes when all you wanted to do was stay home and play video games, especially with how work had been going.
Lisa mentioned earlier in the week that Jennie would also be there, which your enthusiasm to be at the same place with her waned these past few weeks. You’d be happy to see her, but at the same time, the no thank you she gave you echoed in your head.
You arrived at Sana’s, knocking on the door as you waited for someone to answer. You heard the sound of conversation on the other side, which meant the party was in full swing. A moment later, Momo opened the door, face lighting up as soon as she saw you.
“Oppa! You made it,” Momo greeted, hugging you briefly before ushering you in. You weren’t used to her being this excited to see you. She usually just gave you a nod, but as soon as you entered, you felt something was up.
“Hi Momo,” You smiled, handing her the bottle of wine Sana demanded you bring as you took your shoes off.
“Go to the kitchen,” Momo nodded encouragingly, the same smile still on her face when you walked in.
This is weird, you thought before doing exactly what she said.
You said your hello’s to a few of your friends, who had the same excitement on their face as you walked by.
You saw Jennie across the room, next to one of her friends, Hyujin, and Jisoo, laughing at something the latter was saying. She looked up as soon as you walked by. You didn’t say anything except shooting her a small smile before reaching the kitchen.
You scanned the room, noting the food and alcohol spread prepared by Sana, before your eyes fell on the back of someone familiar. You couldn’t quite place it, but you saw this person conversing with Sana and Lisa.
Sana shrieked when she realized you were there, halting most, if not all, of the conversations in her apartment.
“Oppa! Come here!” Sana waved you over, and as she did, the person in question turned around and you couldn’t help the grin forming on your face. “Look who it is,” She pointed excitedly.
Mina.
--
Being in the presence of your ex-girlfriend was a pleasant surprise.
You hadn’t seen Mina since she graduated and moved back to Japan. You spoke with her a few times, wishing birthdays mostly, but that was the extent. You kept up with her socials and whatever Sana or Momo would tell you, and from what you gathered, she had been doing great.
She was also still as beautiful as you remembered. Time had made her even more so, that you felt you were in the presence of a goddess.
You told her exactly that, which was met with an eye roll and a cheeky smile.
“Still with the compliments?” Mina shook her head, cheeks turning red as she sipped her wine.
“Never enough for you,” You leaned forward, hand resting on the back of the seat.
To your friends, the witnesses of your relationship, they wouldn’t think anything of it. It was a familiar sight to be close with Mina, regardless of how much time has passed. They knew how hard it was on you when the relationship ended, but everyone knew that it wouldn’t last. She was always meant to go back to Japan. There was an expiration date the moment you decided to be together.
Could you have followed her to Japan? Yes, but would you? Probably not.
You were in love with her, but you were glad you experienced your first heartbreak with her.
It was a lot of catching up, talking about what happened then, in between, and now. Mina was doing well for herself, developing games for one of the country's biggest companies. She lived a simple life, hanging out with her friends and occasionally traveling with her family abroad.
You were proud of who she had become. She wasn’t the same woman you fell in love with all those years ago–shy, reserved–that much was obvious. She was still shy, but there was an air of confidence around her that wasn’t there before. She glowed, smiling at your stories and laughing at your antics. You could tell she was proud of you too.
The topic of relationships came up, which Mina told you candidly that she was seeing someone. His name was Kyo, a bit of a hot-head, but he was only ever like that with his cousins. You were happy she found someone who drew her out of her shell.
In love always looked good on her, even if that meant it wasn’t with you.
“What about you?” Mina placed her wine glass on the counter, the rest of your friends in their own conversations around you. They’d join in, but ultimately left you two in your own space.
“What about me?” You sighed. “I haven’t really dated anyone since you.”
Mina tilted her head, analyzing your face. It was jarring whenever she did that. She always said there were ‘tells’ when you liked someone, even on a superficial level. Having been her friend before you started dating, she could figure out if there was a crush involved.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Mina’s eyes squinted, lip pouting as she took her eyes off you to look behind you. “But then will you tell me why I’ve been on the receiving end of a death glare since you sat down with me?” You almost turned around, but she rushed out, “Don’t.”
“What’re you talking about?” You raised an eyebrow, confused.
“You like someone, and they’re here, aren’t they?”
Leave it to Mina who could always see right through you.
A dejected yes fell from your lips, shoulders dropping as you quietly explained the situation with Jennie. There wasn’t much to say except you had been asking her out for quite some time, but it hadn’t gotten anywhere.
“I don’t know her, but if I had to wager, she probably likes you too.”
There was no way.
Jennie hadn’t come up to you since you arrived. You hadn’t even thought of her until now, too swept up with Mina’s presence .
“Doubtful.”
Mina made a humming sound before changing the subject, not commenting on it anymore. You didn’t have it in you to ask.
--
You waited for the elevator when you heard a set of footsteps approaching you. Your pulse quickened when you saw Jennie and Hyujin walking towards you. You decided to leave the party as soon as Jeongyeon suggested the start of playing games, mainly because you didn’t want to referee disagreements between Jihyo and Nayeon. It somehow always fell on you.
“Hi,” You bowed your head slightly the closer the pair got to you.
Hyujin smiled, giving you a soft hey as she stood next to you. The other woman looked at you with a tight smile before facing the elevator.
“Oh, shit,” Hyujin said after looking through her purse, “I have Jisoo’s keys. I’ll be back. If the elevator comes, I’ll just meet you in the lobby.”
Hyujin took off right as the elevator doors opened. You internally groaned as Jennie walked in, following after her.
Once the elevator door closed, you felt the hairs on your neck stand. The air around you suddenly felt tense, and you didn’t know what to do. You watched the numbers decrease, the elevator descending that it felt like forever being in such close quarters with her.
“How was your night?” Jennie’s voice came out so softly. You almost didn’t hear her.
“Oh, uh, well it was great.”
“Good. I’m glad,” You braced yourself, sensing her next question. “You spent a lot of time talking with Mina-ssi. How do you two know each other?”
“She’s my ex-girlfriend,” You raised your arm to scratch the back of your head. You had no reason to feel embarrassed, but you felt the need to explain yourself. “We dated in school, but broke up because she moved back to Japan. We’re still cordial.”
Jennie turned her head slightly, giving you an inscrutable expression. You still couldn’t figure her out, but if you had to describe it, she looked annoyed.
“Ex-girlfriend?” You didn’t miss the way she emphasized the first part. “It seemed a little cozy between you two.”
You were getting baited, and you fell for it.
“Mina has a boyfriend,” You deadpanned, crossing your arms.
“Sure she does,” Jennie rolled her eyes. “She didn’t act like she had one.”
Whatever she implied, you wouldn’t have any of it. You had always been protective of Mina, and her comment pissed you off.
“You don’t know her, so watch what you’re saying,” You said lowly, eyes glaring as she turned her body to face you.
“If I had a boyfriend, I don’t think he’d like me cozying up with someone that wasn’t him.”
“Why do you care?” You turned, nearly towering over her as she looked up, “Why do you care what Mina does? Wait, I think the better question is, why do you care what I do?”
Jennie scoffed, shaking her head, “I don’t know how that relates to anything-”
“I know you were staring at us when we spoke. Mina felt it across the room,” You cut her off. You took a small step forward, invading her space when you heard her breath hitch. “Jealous?” You grinned as her eyes widened.
The elevator ringing broke whatever trance you two were in. You stepped back, giving Jennie space as you watched her shake her head.
“Goodnight Jennie. I’ll see you around,” You say quietly, nodding as you walk away.
You didn’t know what the hell that was, but you didn’t look back. Your thoughts were in a mess because you saw a glimpse of how Jennie felt.
You couldn’t get your hopes up again.
-- --
“Just checking in,” The waitress serving your table is here again, for the fourth time. “Your date will be arriving soon, yes?”
“Yes,” You lie because you haven’t heard from Jennie since this morning to confirm the time and location. “She’s stuck in some bad traffic.”
The waitress nods politely, walking away before she stands among her colleagues. They whisper something, shooting you pitiful looks and it adds to the sting of how the night’s unfolding.
Jennie’s late.
Today is also her birthday, which you were completely unaware of.
The only reason you know is because later in the morning, while checking your socials, Lisa posted a picture of a birthday greeting to Jennie. You immediately called Rosie to make sure, uncaring that you woke her up in the middle of the night since she was in Australia. She hung up as soon as she said yes.
You didn’t think Jennie would want to spend part of her birthday with you, of all people. You also didn’t think she wouldn’t share this piece of information with you. Your mistake for not knowing it was her birthday because she only ever said it was at the beginning of the year. Sure, you could have asked for an exact date, but still.
This wasn’t how you expected things to go.
Things were weird between you and Jennie after Sana’s party. You didn’t bother meeting with them when Lisa invited you. You had to clear your head because all these mixed signals from Jennie were throwing you off. If you were in the same vicinity, especially with the not-tense exchange in the elevator, you were sure you’d say something you’d regret. You were still surprised she didn’t slap you for what you said. It was warranted.
You saw her right before the year ended, and things were the same–in a way.
You still spoke to each other the same, but there was something between you that you couldn’t ignore. She felt it too. There was some truth to what you said, even if it was very little, because she acted very much like a jealous girlfriend. You contemplated talking to Lisa about it, someone who gave reasonable advice, but opted not to because Lisa had been trying to get you two together, that it would make her try harder.
Jennie was more guarded than when you first met her. She was still polite and open to talking to you, but you got the impression there was more she wanted to say. She never did, leaving you to wonder.
Then, you happened to be meeting Jinseok and Habin for drinks after work when you saw Jennie sitting alone at the bar. You didn’t want to say hello, but something compelled you to. When you approached, Jennie’s face lit up in surprise, but a small smile formed. You made small talk, asking about her day and what she was doing there, which she said she was waiting for Hyujin in the ladies’ room before they went off to dinner.
You couldn’t help yourself from asking will you go on a date with me, but the words fell from your mouth. You froze, realizing that you didn’t intend to ask her out again, but it happened and she actually agreed.
Jennie chose today as the day, but she’s not even here. You were losing hope that she was even going to show since she’s thirty minutes late. The sympathetic looks you’re receiving from the staff has you feeling low.
You fold the napkin on your lap, placing it on the table. You couldn’t wait anymore, chalking this date as a fluke. She probably didn’t mean to say yes.
When you turn to wave your waitress over, you’re met with the sight of Jennie rushing towards you. She pants, out of breath, once she reaches the table, shaking her head.
“I’m so sorry,” You hear her say, watching her lean on the chair. “My phone died as I was leaving my place, and there was traffic because of the snow.”
You lower your hand, giving her an understanding nod. It didn’t matter if she was another thirty minutes late. None of that matters now because she was always going to show up.
“Happy birthday, Jen,” You say softly, standing to help her take her coat off.
She gives you the brightest smile, which has you absolutely giddy.
--
It’s getting late, but no one in the restaurant seems to mind. It’s practically empty except for a couple of the staff–your waitress included–as they begin setting up to close. You assume they wanted to see how the night would pan out.
This has been the best date you’ve ever been on, and you hope that there’s another and another.
It’s different being with Jennie like this.
You’re so used to being with her with other people around, that being alone with her made you nervous you wouldn’t have anything to talk about. Surprisingly, you had a lot to talk about. She’s much more open with you, telling you about her day and how her coworkers held her up after work to ask more details about the date she was going on. You teased her, which she took in stride because it was a big deal she had a date. She explained she didn’t talk that much about her private life, but it slipped out that she had plans with someone–a man of all people–to celebrate her birthday.
“I didn’t even know it was your birthday. I found out through Lisa’s post.”
“Well, I didn’t want you to think it was a big deal.”
It is a big deal that you’re spending part of her birthday with her, and she knows it. She’s making a statement, and you think you’re understanding it correctly.
You’re also learning Jennie’s much more expressive than she lets on. She’s generally cool and collected, smiling at the right times, when she’s around you and her friends. She’s animated when she tells you about herself, what she likes, dislikes, and how she cried watching a recent drama because it was so sweet. You’ve watched her expressions change throughout the night as she tells you things you’ve never heard about her.
“You didn’t have to pay,” Jennie looks away when the waitress picks up the bill, your card tucked in between the folds. “I’m still sorry for being late.”
“It’s fine,” You wave her off. You planned to pay anyway, regardless if it was her birthday or not. You cared the most about Jennie showing up. She scared you a bit running late, but she’s here.
“You say it is, but I feel terrible about it,” You can tell she means it. “I didn’t want you to be upset.”
“Jennie,” You say softly, reaching for her hand on the table, hoping it wouldn’t be too much. She doesn’t flinch, thankfully. “It’s okay. You’re here. I’m honored you wanted to spend part of today with me.”
“Still,” Jennie pouts, and it makes you want to kiss it away.
“Answer me this then,” You rub the back of her hand with your thumb, “Why’d you finally say yes? I’ve been asking you out for months.”
You can see the wheels turning in her head as she formulates an answer. The waitress is back with the paid bill, giving her time to think of a response as you sign. Once you shut the book, you wait expectantly.
Jennie sighs, this time reaching for your hand, absentmindedly playing with your fingers, “I couldn’t really give you an answer. I’ve seen how you interact with girls and Jisoo-unnie has been in my ear about how you’re a player and not good to women. She even went as far to call you a pig,” You couldn’t stop the eyeroll if you wanted to, which Jennie doesn’t miss. “But after seeing how you were with Mina, it’d made me think Jisoo’s wrong, and that it’d be nice to be with you like that.”
“So you were jealous,” You smirk behind your wine glass. Jennie pinches your skin, but quickly soothes the area with her finger.
“I wouldn’t call it jealousy,” Jennie shakes her head, adding, “I don’t get jealous.”
“Sure.” She’s in denial, but this is still too new for you to start joking with her like that–whatever this is.
“Anyways, I saw a side of you I’ve never seen,” Jennie’s gaze meets yours. “I just thought that could be with me.”
You take a moment to process everything she said, but it’s all jumbled with how she’s looking at you.
The only thought you have right now is that you want to kiss her.
--
“Jennie,” You groan as your back hits the doorknob, metal digging into your body as she presses herself against you.
“What?” Jennie murmurs against your lips, hands swiftly moving to unbutton your coat, shrugging the article of clothing down your shoulders before it hits the hardwood floor.
“We don’t have to do anything,” You moan out after her teeth bite gently on your bottom lip.
You didn’t think the night would end like this.
You offered her a ride home since you drove, and you didn’t exactly trust a stranger since it was late. She declined at first because she lived on the other side of the city, and she didn’t want you to go out of your way. She relented after assuring her that you wanted to, adding sweetly that it was making up for the time spent waiting for her.
You couldn’t explain it, but something shifted once you entered the car. The tension was palpable that you couldn’t do anything but focus on the road. At one point, Jennie took your hand and placed it on her thigh. Her fingers played with your hand, lightly brushing over your skin that had your body shivering underneath her touch.
If Jennie noticed your internal struggle, she didn’t say anything. She kept on talking as if your body wasn’t having a visceral reaction.
As soon as you parked in the driveway, shutting the car off, Jennie turned to you, fingers interlaced, “Do you want to come inside?”
You berated yourself for making a simple question sound so dirty, but you nodded dumbly as Jennie smiled. She let go of your hand and turned away to open the car door. You hurried out of the car to get the door for her, which you were able to open it enough for her to stand up. When you shut the door, she leaned against the car, looking up at you.
Neither of you moved, but all of a sudden, her lips were on yours and your hand shot out to grip the car frame. Her arms encircled around your neck, pulling your body flush against hers. You heard the soft moan as your tongue grazed her bottom lip, automatically granting you access that ignites a fire.
You thought of your first kiss with Jennie in your head multiple times, but the reality was so much better. Her lips were soft, but demanding, as the months leading up this moment boiled over. You felt all the pent up energy in your body leave as your tongues wrestled in a frenzy.
Jennie pulled away, breaking the kiss, as her hand found its way on your chest to gently push you off. You didn’t say anything as she dragged you towards the entrance, dazed from the kiss.
You probably should have paid more attention to your surroundings, but you wrapped your arms around Jennie as she inserted the key into the lock, making sure she knew exactly how she made you feel.
Once the door opened, Jennie pounced.
“I know we don’t,” Jennie tears her lips off yours, trailing kisses on your jaw. “I want you.”
“Are you sure?” Your control’s slipping when she sucks lightly on your neck. You want her, that much was obvious. You also want her in the morning and the next.
“Yes, and before you ask again, yes,” Jennie leans back to look at you, giving you a small nod that she feels the same.
You’re about to say something when Jennie drops to her knees, hands unbuckling your belt and untucking your dress shirt. Your head falls back, hitting the door as she quickly undoes the button.
“I want,” You try to get out but Jennie palms you through your briefs, “To go out again.”
“We will,” Jennie nods, slipping her hand underneath the waistband before a soft fist encircles around your cock. “You’re bigger than I imagined,” She comments as she strokes you slowly.
It goes straight to your head as she frees you from the confines of the fabric, shrugging your pants down mid-thigh. You watch her eyes widen as she sees your cock up close.
“Jennie,” You grit out, the sight of your cock over her face has you losing your balance. You’re thankful the door’s holding you upright.
Jennie gives you an innocent look before her next move has her everything but. She pokes her tongue, flicking your tip, that has you pressing your weight against the door. Your hands ball into a fist as you watch her kiss all over your cock. She licks up and down, swirling over the tip, and you can’t help the guttural groan leaving your body as her lips wrap around the head.
That’s when you knew you were in trouble.
You’re entranced as Jennie slowly takes more of you inside her mouth. You could cum right then and there, and you almost do the moment your tip touches her throat. She coughs slightly, pulling back for air.
“I don’t think I could take you right now,” Jennie whispers, gaze locked on you while her hands don’t remain idle.
“Practice makes perfect,” You quip, ignoring the tension in your stomach as her mouth engulfs you again. Her cheeks hollow out, the suction causing your eyes to roll back. “You’re so good.”
“Am I?” Your cock’s out of her mouth, a resounding pop echoes through the house.
“Yes,” You nod, bringing a gentle hand to thread through her locks. Her expression darkens, eyes filled with lust that has you wondering how far you could go. “So good.”
Jennie raises herself, keeping her hand around your cock. You gulp when she leans against you, breath against your lips, “As much as I’d like to drain you with my mouth, which I will at some point, I need this,” She squeezes your cock, the pain never felt so good, “Inside me.”
You can’t do anything but nod. Jennie literally has you in the palm of her hands, and if she wanted you to fuck her, who are you to say no?
--
You’re doing everything you possibly can to not snap your hips forward. You’ve resorted to doing mental math because the sensation of Jennie’s pussy wrapped around your cock has your head(s) spinning.
Her walls pulse as your length sinks deeper into her. You couldn’t ignore the sounds falling from her mouth, the soft moans and breathy sighs as her body takes you in.
It isn’t without preparation because you spent a fair amount of time in between her legs. You might’ve gotten drunk on her taste, that she had to physically pull you off from overstimulation. You didn’t know how many times she came, but it was evident on your face and the bedsheet.
“You’re too big,” Jennie pants out, hands wrapped around your wrist, gripping tightly that her nails dig into your skin.
“We can stop,” It pains you to say that, but you don’t want to hurt her.
Jennie frantically shakes her head, biting her lip, “No no no. I want it, please.”
“Baby,” The nickname leaves your mouth easily, and her pussy twitches, “Just breathe.”
Her grip loosens as you watch her chest rise slowly before expelling a long breath. Your jaw clenches as you feel your cock slide in more, and you shouldn’t have glanced down.
It’s absolutely filthy the way she sucks you in. You’re over halfway in, and you genuinely didn’t know if you’d be able to last.
“Kiss me.”
You bring your lips down, distracting her and yourself. She moans into your mouth, greedily swallowing every sound and breath as she wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling you deeper into her body.
“Fuck,” Jennie’s head snaps back, tearing her lips away as her little move brings all of you in.
You swear you feel something leave your body, whether it was your impending orgasm or your soul, you didn’t know. All you know is that having Jennie wrapped around you—tight, wet, and hot—has you burying your face in the crook of her neck.
“You feel so good,” You groan against her skin, pussy tightening at the praise. “Jennie,” You choke out.
“Tell me I’m good,” Jennie commands quietly, and there’s a shift in the air, something you’ve never experienced with any of the women you’ve been with—something darker.
“Who said you were?” You taunt, nipping softly at her ear.
“You don’t think so?” Jennie plays dirty, wrapping her legs around your waist, pulling you deeper into her that has both of you sucking in a breath.
“That definitely wasn’t good,” You grit out as you subtly shift your hips, eyes rolling back as she chuckles.
“I’m sure you could make me,” She kisses you sweetly on the cheek before saying, “You know you want to.”
Things go downhill, or uphill, depending on how you look at it.
In that very moment, her words break something inside you, unleashing the control you tried so hard to keep. You don’t give her, or yourself, any notice when you slide your length out, keeping your tip snug between her lips before thrusting back in, her body jolting at the movement.
“God, yes,” Jennie moans, her limbs hugging you tighter to her body as you start bucking into her, hands sliding underneath her small frame.
You’re not sure if you black out, but the only thing spurring you on is Jennie’s moans and breath on the side of your face as you pump in and out of her slick. You thought it would be difficult, given how long it took for her to take you, but as you move easily within her body, thrusting and rolling your hips to hit that spot inside of her. It’s like she was made for you.
“Jen,” You don’t recognize your voice after a particularly hard thrust and squeeze from her, signaling that you were close.
“That fast?” You don’t need to see her face to know she’s smirking, but it’s a façade. The way she’s pulsing around you proves she’s right there with you.
“You feel so fucking good,” And her pussy reacts, squeezing as her breath hitches, nails scratching down your back. “You like hearing that, huh? Be good for me, baby.”
It happens suddenly, knocking the wind out of you as Jennie’s body seizes, back arching, chest pushed against yours when she screams. A gush of wetness covers you as her orgasm rips through her body, triggering yours that you had no time to pull out. You capture her lips, groaning as you paint her insides white, hips stuttering as her walls throb—pulse—along your cock.
Jennie whines as her wombs fill with your essence, moaning, whispering how good it feels inside her. She rocks her hips, making sure she milks you dry before her limbs sprawl out on the bed.
You’re usually not this reckless, especially when it comes to sex. You tend to use protection, but that seemed to go out the window. Jennie was too determined, too tempting, too hot that it didn’t cross your mind—at all.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You mutter, pulling quickly out as your lust-filled mind clears. Jennie lets out a small gasp. “Fuck I’m so sorry.”
“What? Hey, where are you going?!” Jennie’s legs try to wrap around you before you step away, but you’re quicker.
“We didn’t use protection,” You say harshly, shaking your head at your carelessness.
“Okay? And?” Jennie sits up as you start pacing back and forth in front of her. “I’m clean and on the pill. Are you?”
“Of course I am. I get tested regularly,” You roll your eyes, slightly offended by her accusation.
“Okay, so we’re fine. If I wanted to use a condom, I would’ve made you put one on, so can you just come back to bed. You’re stressing over literally nothing,” Jennie reaches for your arm, pulling you to stand in front of her. “It was great,” She places a soft kiss on your stomach, peering up at you. “Lay with me.”
Jennie’s stronger than she lets on, pulling you down to lay next to her. She rests her head on your chest, locking a leg over yours so you have nowhere to go. It calms you, being wrapped around by her. You sigh contentedly as her finger absentmindedly traces over your abdomen.
“You know,” Jennie says quietly, “I’m sorry for how I’ve been with you since the day we met.”
“You had your reservations, it’s understandable,” You place a soft kiss on her forehead. “But I swear that I’m not that much of a fuckboy as Jisoo makes me out to be.”
Jennie chuckles, shaking her head, “I see that. I do. I think I can trust you.”
“Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend? One date was all it took?” You tease, earning a light slap.
“Maybe take me out some more, and I can see us being together,” Jennie kisses underneath your jaw.
Something blooms in your chest, that same feeling you had when you first saw Jennie all those months ago. It’s scary to feel this strongly about her so quickly, but you’ll lean into the feeling because whether you want to or not, you know you’ll fall in love with her.
If you haven’t already.
“And with how you are in bed,” Jennie murmurs against your skin, “I’m not entirely keen on sharing you with anyone.”
You don’t plan on being with anyone else after her because there’s something there that only she could get to.
Instead of being all sweet and romantic, you opt to respond with a joke, “So you are the jealous type.”
“Possessive might be a better word,” Jennie whispers seductively. “I’m sure it would take very little from me to make you mine.”
“Do I want to be yours?” You quip, rubbing her skin softly.
“I’m sure I could convince you,” Jennie mumbles, kissing you sweetly one last time before she climbs on top of you. “Right?” Her eyes narrow as she subtly grinds along your cock, waking at the movement.
“Maybe,” You nod, eyes locked on her as she smirks.
“Can you go again? Or do you need a break?” Jennie bends forward, meeting your lips with hers. She dips her tongue into your mouth and you moan softly against her.
“I might need some help,” You say sheepishly as she giggles.
“I want you in my mouth anyways,” Jennie murmurs, trailing her lips down your neck as she shifts her body. “I’ll be good.”
And fuck you know she will be.
-- --
“I love you,” Jennie drunkenly mumbles against your lips, wrapping her arms around your neck as she tries to deepen the kiss.
“Baby,” You smile, trying to keep this kiss as PG as possible given you’re at a club with all of your friends.
“I do,” Jennie pulls away, pouting.
That’s the thing you’ve learned about Jennie these past few months. She doesn’t talk about her feelings a lot, but when she does, it’s one of the things you love the most about her.
And yes, you love her. You’re in love with her. You told her after three months of making it official. She didn’t say it back, nor did you expect to. She keeps her feelings to herself, only sharing them with her closest friends. As time went on, she opened up, telling you how she felt in not so many words, but enough to know she was falling for you, hard.
“I love you too, Jen,” You grin, watching her roll her eyes underneath the strobe lights.
“You’re not hearing me, I love you,” Jennie crosses her arms. “Like I’m in love with you.”
Oh.
“You’re drunk,” You shake your head because her telling you she’s in love with you, drunk, in the club, with all your friends around, wasn’t how you expected this confession.
“I am,” Jennie nods, scooting closer to you enough to swing her legs over yours. “But I know what I’m saying and I’m in love with you.”
“You’ll tell me again in the morning?” You raise an eyebrow, not wanting to get your hopes up.
Jennie nods, leaning forward to kiss you again. “I’ll show you just how much I love you till then.”
You tap her legs, moving them away, before standing up. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” Jennie asks as you pull her up, interlacing your fingers together.
“Home,” You say simply, and she gives you the brightest smile before nodding.
“Make me cum tonight, yeah?” Jennie whispers seductively in your ear.
Like you won’t.
--
You’ve always been a light sleeper, and when you feel the bed dip, you wake up slowly. You watch Jennie slip on your shirt, feet padding into the bathroom.
Last night was intense in the best kind of way.
Jennie showed you exactly how much she loved you by the way she rode you until you came inside her. She wouldn’t let you rest, keeping your cock inside of her until you got hard again. She begged you to keep fucking her, the word daddy got thrown around, and that was it for you.
Right before she came, she told you she loved you again and you let her come around your cock as you fucked her from behind, thrusting inside of her before you met your release.
Jennie’s back in the room, sliding underneath the blanket before snuggling into your side. “I know you’re awake.”
“What gave me away?” You ask, clearing your throat when you realize your voice is thick with sleep.
“You always wake up whenever I leave the bed,” Jennie murmurs.
“Can’t help that I miss you as soon as you go.”
“Such a sweet talker,” Jennie giggles, “But I do have something to tell you.”
You wait, giving her the time she needs to gather her thoughts.
Jennie lets out a shaky breath before looking at you, “I love you. Like I’m in love with you, and you know that I’m not really someone who expresses my feelings, but yeah I’m in love with you. I think I was always going to since the day I met you.”
You smile, closing your eyes contentedly. “Thanks.”
“What?” Jennie slaps your chest. “Say it back!”
“I love you, Jen,” You open one eye, “You’ve known this.”
“I know,” Jennie huffs, slapping your chest again. “But still.”
“Careful, I don’t need you getting all soft on me now,” You tease and she huffs against your neck.
You might be joking, but you know how serious Jennie’s being. She’s never had a relationship, and you feel some pressure being her first. It’s not enough to have you running because you want to make this work.
She is, after all, the woman you’re going to marry.
-- -- --
#blackpink smut#blackpink jennie#blackpink kim jennie#blackpink jennie kim#jennie smut#kim jennie smut#kim jennie
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A-Mazing*
Summary: An extra for 404*
The one where you and Harry find yourselves lost in a corn maze together.
Word Count: 7.5k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, exhibitionism, size kink, Daddy kink, enemies dynamic, Harry being a little bitch 🫶
“Oh, absolutely not.”
Harry smirks as he turns to you, hands sliding into his hoodie pocket. “Gee, thanks.”
“No, I’m serious, I’m not getting stuck with you,” you argue, glancing toward the rest of the group that’s already heading inside the corn maze. “Seriously, please. Anybody else. I will take literally anybody else.”
“Well, you don’t get anybody else,” Harry snorts, much too smug for your liking. “You were late.”
“Yeah, and I was late because I was fixing your mistake,” you remind him. “It took me three hours to recode that sequence. And I’m still not finished—"
“Right, because it wasn’t a fucking mistake, Princess. The way I designed it was going to help it run three times more efficiently than the way Prescott suggested. And you just fucking undid it—"
“You weren’t asked to make it more efficient. You were told to do it the way the client wanted—”
“Well, the way the client wanted it was slow and stupid—”
“And you would be the authority on slow and stupid.”
Harry’s eyes narrow while his lips press into a thin line, looking quite incensed. “Very mature. Are we going in or what?”
“Fine,” you agree through a heavy exhale, shoving past him to head toward the entrance.
You have no idea why you even agreed to come in the first place. Sure, the idea of getting a few coworkers together for some fall fun was sweet, but truth be told, you don’t really care about any of these people outside of the office. You don’t care to see them, or get to know them, or hang out with them.
And the one person you do know happens to also be the one person you can’t stand.
Corn mazes are fun. Even pairing up to do them together is kind of exciting.
But with him? You’d rather get lost.
“All right, here’s your map,” the kind, older woman at the table says, handing you a piece of paper. “Answer the questions at each fork and follow the path according to your answer.”
You nod your understanding and offer a quick thank you before slipping past the tent and toward the beginning of the maze. The setting sun casts shadows across the field as you both make your way through the stocks.
You feel a sense of adventure as you make your way to the first checkpoint. Taking in the lingering scent of kettle corn somewhere off in the distance, and the excited chatter of the other people inside the maze. It’s exhilarating, and you feel a sense of purpose as you stride forward. Spurred on by a need to win – to do better than him.
And you hear Harry subtly huff from somewhere behind you, clearly annoyed with the way you’ve left him behind. “Real fucking mature,” he scoffs, and you can practically hear his eyes roll. “We’re supposed to be a team, Tinkerbell. You know, work together.”
“Well, I don’t want to be on a team with you,” you retort. “And we’ve never worked well together. As is evident by your complete lack of common sense and understanding of the system we’re trying to design.”
“Oh, this shit again—"
“Yes, this shit again. You’re costing us time and money by trying to prove you’re so much better than everyone else—”
“Well, I can’t exactly help it if I am, now, can I?”
You feel your expression fall as you spin on your heel to face him. “You’re fucking annoying, is what you are. It’s not my job to clean up after you. Okay, I’m not your mother, I’m not your babysitter. I am your equal. And it’s about fucking time you start treating me like it.”
Even in the dark, murky space, you can see a certain glimmer in his eye. One that challenges the frown on his face.
He studies you for a moment, eyes searching for a response. “Careful what you wish for, Princess.”
With that, he shoves past you and forges ahead into the maze. Leaving you to stare at his back with a glower.
You’re both silent as you approach the first fork, offering nothing more than looks of indignation and huffs of apathy as you raise your map and scan the question.
“What does WWW stand for in a website browser?” you read aloud before snorting. “World Wide Web. C.”
An easy question. You both know the answer, and there's no way he can argue with you.
So, instead, he says nothing. Merely glancing over the paper almost skeptically before heading toward the third row.
Pocketing the trivia questions, you chase after him. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? The silent treatment?”
Harry’s back stays to you as he slips between the stocks. “I’m not giving you the fucking silent treatment; I’m not twelve.”
“Then why aren’t you talking to me?”
“Because you’re a fucking brat.”
The vicious way he sneers the word sends a certain reaction down your spine, but you brush it away just as quickly as it appeared. “I thought I was your teammate.”
“You said it yourself, we’re not a team,” he retorts. “You’re not my babysitter, and you’re not my mother. Unless what you were really trying to say is that you want me to call you Mommy.”
You feel yourself hesitate, confused, and slightly startled by the suggestion. “Ew. Why would I want that?”
You see his shoulder lift and fall in a shrug. “I don’t know. You’ve always been a kinky little thing. Maybe it gets you off.”
“Oh, fuck you, I don’t have a mommy kink. Especially not with you.”
“Fine, a daddy kink then. Don’t think I forgot how eager you were to say it last time—”
“That was for you,” you hiss, once again glaring at his hooded back. “Okay, I was trying to see if you liked it, and you did—”
“Of course I did. It’s hot.”
“Sure, yeah. But I’m the kinky one?”
“I never said I wasn’t. I’m just saying, if you want me to call you mommy…all you have to do is ask.”
You come to the second fork, forcing the conversation to a halt as you feel your heart hammer in your chest. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”
“Fine.”
You unfold the map and search for the next question. “What is cynophobia?”
“Easy. Fear of cats.”
“That’s ailurophobia, you dipshit. Cynophobia is a fear of dogs.”
“Dipshit. Classy. No, that’s real nice, Tink. Very romantic.”
“Well, it’s true. Look it up.”
“Can’t,” he says calmly. Confidently. “There’s no service in here.”
“Oh, yeah? And how do you know?”
“Cause I’ve done this before. Many times.”
Your eyes narrow. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“…why?”
There’s a brief pause before he says, “She used to love it here.”
Your heart instantly drops into your toes, grimace untwisting as you glance toward the ground. “Oh.”
Another shrug. “Point is, I can’t look it up. So…pick whichever. I don’t care.”
Swallowing thickly, you gesture toward the second exit. “B. The answer is dogs. My brother used to have it when he was younger.”
And for the first time all evening, it’s Harry’s turn to look surprised as he nudges his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You have a brother?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you learn that from my file?” you tease, and you notice his lips twitch up into a smirk.
“Not exactly.”
“Yeah, well…I don’t really talk about him. He doesn’t live here, he lives back home. After my dad left, he stuck around to take care of our mom.”
You see a flash of sympathy streak across his expression, but you’re brushing him off before he can comment.
“Anyway, it’s B,” you repeat, walking toward the middle row. “If you don’t believe me, then go your own way.”
For a moment, Harry hesitates, almost as though considering it. Then, he sighs, and begrudgingly follows your lead.
This time around, you’re both quiet. Listening to the sounds of everyone else further on in the maze laughing, or talking, or squealing with excitement.
A few scattered lamps help guide you through the dark labyrinth. You can see the wind move through the corn stocks. The way they rustle as they sway with the breeze, adding an element of eeriness to the already spooky scene.
Furthermore, the night air is beginning to grow cold. The fall chill nipping at your skin and reminding you once more that it’s no longer summer as you shiver and pull your jacket further around your body.��
“Should have brought a real coat,” Harry comments, almost haughtily, and it makes your eyes roll. “It’s October, Princess. Can’t wear booty shorts and flip flops anymore.”
Despite the fact that you’re wearing neither of those, you still feel the need to scoff, “Well, of course it’s not cold to you. You’re already dead inside.”
“Ooo, ouch. You got me. Sick burn, Tink. Real sick.”
His flippant response makes your skin crawl. “You are so fucking annoying, do you know that?”
“And you’re a fucking brat, do you know that?”
“I’m not a brat, I’m just right.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
“Yeah, it is whatever I say, actually. I’m the one with the fucking map.”
To prove your point, you wave the paper in the air before stopping beside the next checkpoint.
“What are the names of the four women on the show, The Golden Girls?” you read, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Uh…I know Rose is one of them.”
“And Betty White,” Harry adds.
“No, her character. Not her,” you huff. “And I’m pretty sure Betty played Rose, so that’s only one.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to help,” he scoffs before glancing over the multiple-choice answers. “Then it’s probably A or C. Those are the only ones with Rose in them.”
“Well, we have to pick one. Okay, we can’t do both—”
“Yes, I fucking know that, Tinkerbell. I’m just narrowing it down—”
“Well, maybe be less condescending about it.”
“Fine,” he nearly snaps, angrily stabbing at the map with his finger. “A. Dorothy, Rose, Blanch, and Samantha.”
“No, that doesn’t sound right. I don’t think they had a Samantha. It was…it was something else. Either Sophia or Sarah.”
“Well, you have to pick one. You can’t have both,” he repeats mockingly, and you begin to glare. “Besides, statistically, it’s more likely they switch up the letters with each guess. We’ve already done B and C. Next should be A.”
“Really? That’s your reasoning?”
“That’s my reasoning. Take it or leave it.”
And you don’t like it. You don’t feel convinced by it. But you decide – just this once – to put your faith in his incessant need to be right. To trust him and his judgment.
You nod once. A curt gesture of good will as he sighs gratefully and takes off toward the first row.
An eerie feeling follows you as you trail behind. Perhaps an ominous warning to turn around. That something is about to go wrong.
At first, you shake it away. Equating it with your distaste for the man before you.
But soon…you see the real reason why.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you groan when you’re both forced to a stop by a dead end. “See? What did I tell you?”
“Fuck off, you didn’t tell me shit, Princess. It’s a dead end, not death,” he huffs. “We’ll turn around and try again.”
“Can we? We passed like two other rows and now I can’t remember which way we came.”
“Well, that’s not my fault.”
“Oh, bite me, Harold.”
“Just tell me where.”
You feel your heart race beneath your chest. Spurred on by adrenaline, slight fear, and the brisk cold air. “Can you please stop being so infuriating?”
“Can you please stop being such a bitch?” he replies cooly before his eyes flick down toward your shivering frame. “You’re shaking.”
“Yes, I know,” you grit through clenched, chattering teeth. “It’s cold. And don’t you dare make another joke about flip flops. I don’t have the energy to slap you.”
That arrogant smirk returns. “Cute. Told you, you should have brought a coat.”
“Well, I didn’t,” you hiss. “So can we please just get the fuck out of here before I freeze to death?”
Harry’s eyes roll, but you notice his grin grow as he sighs and lifts a hand toward the collar of his hoodie.
In one fluid motion, he’s slipping the sweatshirt up his torso and over his head to hand to you. Dangling the dark fabric between your bodies as you stare at it incredulously.
“Take it,” he grumbles, waving the material in your direction. “And don’t fucking say I’m never nice to you.”
Stunned, you blink quickly. “What…are you doing?”
“Just put it on,” he huffs, gesturing toward you again. “Cause, if you die out here, I’m not dragging your body back.”
Your eyelids narrow into small slits while you cautiously reach for the hoodie. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Once you’ve taken it, he uses his knuckle to shove his glasses back into position. “Like you said, I can’t get cold. I’m dead inside.”
You smile at this before pulling the cozy jacket over your head. It smells…good. It smells like him. Radiating heat and the faint scent of his cologne.
Truth be told, it feels like a warm hug. Something you can’t imagine Harry ever giving you on his own. And a part of you feels…relieved. Relaxed and almost…enamored. Perhaps even grateful.
“Thanks,” you murmur, snuggling against the fabric before slipping your hands into the pocket. “You didn’t…have to. I know being nice isn’t your thing.”
He snorts, turning now toward the tall lookout platform just beside the dead end. “Whatever. Maybe we should go up and see if we can see the exit.”
“Okay.”
With that, he turns toward the stairs and begins the trek up. You rush after him, trying hard to see the steps without much light, and thankfully making it to the top in one piece as you begin to look around.
It’s beautiful. Absolutely stunning, the design lit up by the soft glow of the moon. An almost romantic touch, although you shake the thought away. You can see a few groups spread out throughout the rest of the maze, but most of them are already making their way out. Having figured out the riddles much quicker than the two have seemed to.
You pout. “Nuts.”
“Yeah,” he agrees in a low grumble. “Okay, we’ll…we’ll turn around. Maybe you were right. Maybe it was C. We can try that next.”
It’s strange to hear him admit you could have been correct, and you can’t help but smirk as you nod. “Okay.”
You follow Harry down the other side, focusing your attention on your footing as you take each step one at a time.
But once you’re toward the bottom, your tennis shoe suddenly catches on a rogue nail, and you begin to stumble. Body falling forward before you can even reach for the railing.
Instantly, Harry – who’s already made it back to the ground – reaches out for your arms, slipping his hands beneath your elbows to help steady you and catch you just in the nick of time. Sparing you from a rather embarrassing fall.
You gasp as you’re flung forward, allowing yourself to settle in his embrace for support while you work on your balance and place your feet back where they need to be.
And once you’re sure you’re sturdy, you take a deep breath, and straighten up.
“Shit,” you whisper, lashes fluttering from the rush of adrenaline, and the feel of his touch. “I hate these shoes.”
You expect a snarky quip, but instead, you see his expression twist from behind his glasses as he glances over your face. Hands still glued to your arms. “Are you all right?”
A bit stunned by the soft and rather gentle tone of voice, you nod once. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m…sorry. I should have been looking.”
He seems confused by your apology but chooses to ignore it, instead watching you closely as if monitoring your reaction. “If you wanted me to hold you, Tinkerbell, you could have just said so.”
Despite yourself, you laugh, cheeks growing warm as you push yourself out of his arms. “Fuck off.”
“Fuck off? Or fuck me?”
“Ha. Very funny.”
“Maybe I’m not being funny,” he argues. “Maybe I mean it.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really.”
You snort. “Harry, come on. This would be the last place to fuck.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah, why. What’s wrong with it? It’s dark. Secluded. There’s the element of getting caught, which I know you like.”
“Harry,” you repeat, almost doubtfully. “We…there’s no place to even do it. It’s way too exposed, and cold, and dangerous. We’d be better off just fucking in my car.”
“If we can even find our way back to your car,” he retorts teasingly. “Besides, I thought you liked danger.”
You gaze at him with suspicion, feeling that odd racing return to your chest. “You’re not being serious, are you?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe. I wasn’t at first, but…it’s not a bad idea.”
“Please. You can’t be that horny that you have to fuck me every time we see each other.”
“Okay, well, I’m not and I don’t,” he scoffs. “It’s just…different.”
“Oh, really? Why?”
Another shrug, but this time, he’s stepping closer. Those soft, green eyes dancing down your body as if drinking you in. Indulging in the sight of you. “I don’t know,” he repeats, a bit quieter. Thicker. “There’s just…something about you, in my clothes. It’s…it’s good. You look good.”
The look in his eye is primal. Breeding a new sense of desire deep within the pit of your stomach. You shift under his lustful gaze, fingers curling into your fist from inside the pocket.
“Thanks, I guess,” you manage to say, noticing the way he continues to move closer. “It is comfy.”
“Good,” he mumbles, still studying your stance before dragging his attention back up to your face. “And you’re warm?”
“Getting there.”
A short nod. “You know…there are other ways of heating you up.”
The sneaky remarks are back, and even though you can feel your legs squeezing together from the suggestive tone of voice, you grin. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” He finally reaches you, fingers outstretching for the front of his hoodie. Moving up your chest almost innocently before slipping around the back of your neck. “Want me to keep you warm, Tink?”
And you want to tease him a little longer, make him wait. Suffer.
But he’s too good. He’s always been too good at catching you off guard and luring you into submission. The way he speaks, the way he looks at you, the way he pulls you closer with the palm of his hand. You can practically taste him. Can smell him everywhere. Feel him in places he’s not even touching you.
And you need it. You need him, you want him. Right now, more than anything.
“Yes,” you exhale, almost shakily. “Yes, please—”
He surges forward, lips connecting with yours almost violently. Stealing the rest of your plea before you can make it.
You can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but whimper as he sucks on your tongue and presses his fingers harder against your head. Trapping you against his mouth until you feel dizzy.
And he’s so warm. A stark contrast to the brisk, autumn air. And he’s soft in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Inviting. As though he’s been waiting his whole life to lay his mouth to yours.
“Har—” you gasp when he pulls back to nip at your bottom lip. “Har, please—”
You sound deranged. Wounded, almost, and so goddamn pitiful. You’re tugging on his shirt, trying to yank him impossibly closer. Tilting to the left for a deeper angle and raising up onto your toes in order to taste him fully.
“Easy,” he whispers, and it’s so very strained. Like he’s using what little strength he still has to speak to you. “Easy, Princess. S’okay, I’ve got you.”
It’s possessive the way he talks to you. Commanding you to listen. Insisting that your pleasure is his. That your wellbeing is in his hands.
He’s not a caring man by nature. At least not to you. But in moments like this, his dominance takes control. Turning him into a desperate man eager to care for you. To protect you and keep you safe.
Perhaps it’s a more caveman mindset. The idea that he needs to look after you. That you’re his to keep and care for.
But right now…you adore it. Feel safe in the idea of submitting to him.
“Please,” you try again, breathless and desperate as you cling to his strong frame and beg him for something only he can give you. “Harry, please…hurts.”
There’s a teasing glimmer in his eye, brightened by the reflection of his glasses. “Yeah? Is it achy, Tink?”
You nod quickly, grabbing onto his other hand to slide it down your stomach. Right toward where you need him most.
And he lets himself be moved, watching with intrigue at the way his fingers are dragged toward your thighs. Smirking rather sadistically while pressing his palm against your pussy with fervor.
You whine at the subtle friction, already attempting to grind down against the heel of his hand as he meets your pace with soft strokes of his own.
“There you go,” he murmurs, watching your hips before returning his attention to your face. “Feels good, baby, yeah? Like to use me, don’t you?”
Another quick nod, and you sigh contently when he presses his lips to your cheek. Placing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck.
“Har,” you try again, nuzzling closer. “Har, they’re…they’re gonna see. Can’t…can’t do it here—”
“Yes we can,” he replies calmly. And the soft, secure tone of voice instantly turns your insides to jelly. ���Promise I won’t let them see, okay? Gonna keep you to myself.”
He removes his hand from your pussy to place it on your hip. Guiding you back until you feel your body connect with something hard. You glance around just long enough to find that it’s the wooden frame of the lookout. And he keeps you trapped there as he hides you both beneath the structure, tucking you away from any prying eyes that might pass.
“There,” he says, grinning to himself at the eager look on your face. “Now Daddy can see just how wet you really are, hm?”
You can tell he’s using the nickname sparingly. Tentative of your reaction as he waits to see how you might feel about it.
And truthfully, you hadn’t anticipated liking it as much as you do. Especially in this moment, when he’s giving you everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s like music to your ears, orgasmic just to listen to.
You swallow thickly and nudge your nose against his cheek. “Yes, Daddy.”
He tenses beneath your touch, cursing against the shell of your ear before he whispers, “Show me.”
He returns his hand to yours, allowing your fingers to interlock as you shakily guide him toward your jeans.
After a bit of maneuvering, you get the zipper down, and help slip his hand inside your underwear. Straight down to your cunt as his fingers glide through your folds until he can find what he’s looking for.
“Oh, Tink,” he coos almost sympathetically. Stroking your pussy as you move to grip his wrist excitedly. “S’all wet, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Daddy,” you mumble, leaning your head back against the wooden board for stability. “Hurts.”
“I bet,” he tsks, sliding his middle finger toward your hole. Circling it once before glancing over your expression. “Need something to fill you up, hm? Get you warm again?”
You hum your agreement, tugging his touch further into you as he chuckles and steps closer. “Please…”
“What, baby? What do you need?”
You whimper again and roll your hips against his fingers. Needing the friction of his thumb against your clit which he refuses to give you.
“What do you want, hm?” he mumbles, dipping down to ghost his lips across yours. “Just ask…and Daddy will give you anything you want.”
And in this moment, you know he means it.
“Want you…to fuck me,” you exhale, reaching now for the curls lying against the back of his neck. “Please, Har. Need you to fuck me. Make it better. Make it go away.”
“Is that right?” He slips a finger inside, and you feel your insides twist as you gasp and squirm against the pleasurable touch. “Need something bigger, yeah?”
“Yes…yeah. Please. Please, Daddy.”
He smiles again before slipping his hand from inside your jeans to help tug them down your legs. Yanking almost furiously until they’re settled near your ankles. Allowing him just enough room to slip between.
And once your cunt is on display for him, he stares at it with a certain mesmerized admiration. Allowing himself to enjoy you before he reaches for his own belt and tugs it free.
Once he’s managed to pull his cock out, he reaches again for your hips. Squeezing them once before turning you around.
His arm slips around your middle to keep you secure and you grin lazily as you rest yourself against his chest.
“Gonna hold you, just like this,” he whispers against your cheek, and you feel the tip of his cock trailing against the curve of your ass. “Keep you warm.”
The hand against your ribcage is gentle. Keeping you steady as he attempts to hold you close.
“Deep breath, Tink, okay?” he instructs next, nudging the crown against your dripping hole. Warning you of his next step. “Know it’s a lot, but you always take me so well, don’t you? Gonna take me again?”
You grab onto his arm, nails scraping down his skin as you whine, “Yes. Yes, I’ll take you. Just need it, Har, please—"
“Okay, all right,” he shushes, nudging his cheek against your temple. “Need you to relax, okay? Are you relaxed, baby?”
And you think you are. Mentally, anyway. You’ve never felt so comfortable in someone’s arms. Under their influence and control. Even despite the cold air nipping at your thighs and the outside threat of getting caught, you feel at ease. Adrenaline coursing through your veins as the sounds of people somewhere else in the maze float toward you. Reminding you of where you are. What could happen.
“Tink,” he warns, sliding his cock through your folds in wait. “I need you to relax for me, okay? I really don’t want to hurt you.”
“No?” you manage to retort, and you catch his smile out of your peripheral. “Thought you liked to hurt me.”
“I do,” he agrees, lips following the shell of your ear. “But not like this. Don’t wanna split you in half.”
“Maybe I want you to,” you breathe, reaching back for his neck. “Maybe I need it, Daddy.”
He chuckles almost darkly before pressing his mouth against your heated skin. “I’ll remember that.”
With that, he drops his hand down to your cunt, circling his fingers around your clit until he feels your body unwind. Allowing him just enough room to begin pushing his cock in.
“There you go,” he sighs, both of you groaning when you feel how easily he slips in. “So fucking good. Take me so well, don’t you? Always do, I know. Relax, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
The burn is almost overwhelming. Demanding your focus and attention as you feel him stretch you open, forcing your walls to accommodate his size.
“Hey,” you hear him murmur, his palm coming up to cup your jaw. Thumb sweeping across your parted lips. “Are you breathing? Gotta breathe, Tink, come on. You know better—”
“I know,” you gasp, sucking in a greedy gasp for air before you suck in his finger. “I know, Daddy, m’sorry.”
He hums his approval before allowing himself to sit inside your warm mouth. “It’s okay, know it feels good, hm?”
“Mhm,” you agree around the large digit, allowing your tongue to settle him on your tastebuds. “More.”
“More?” he repeats, using his other hand to squeeze your hip. “Want more, greedy girl?”
“Please…”
“Please," he echoes thoughtfully. "Greedy Girl has manners, how precious.”
There’s a slight air of condescension and teasing to his response, and you feel yourself flutter around his length.
His grin grows. “You like that, baby?”
You manage one more weak nod as you press yourself against his body, squirming in his hold while his cock pushes in to the hilt.
“There,” he exhales, groaning some before falling still. Allowing your body to adjust to his size. “You okay?”
“Yes…yes, m’okay. Please move, please…please, Daddy—”
“Okay, all right,” he agrees coarsely, readjusting his stance before returning his arm to your stomach. Just beneath your chest. “Need you to be good, okay? Just listen to Daddy’s voice and do what I say.”
“I will. I will, I promise.”
“Good.” He begins to pull back. Dragging his cock through your quivering hole as you moan his name.
But such a loud noise isn’t quite what he had in mind, his other palm reaching up to smack across your mouth to silence you.
“Uh-uh,” he grunts, pausing the rhythm of his hips until he’s sure you’ll obey. “None of that. M’keeping you for myself, remember? Can’t let them know.”
You make an incoherent noise against his hand before writhing back against his cock. Needing more friction and movement that he refuses to give you.
“Unless that’s what you want, Greedy Girl,” he whispers into your neck. “Want them to see what I do to you. The way I make you fall apart…the way you beg for my cock. Even when you hate me.”
The idea sends a shiver down your spine as you groan his name and claw at his wrist.
“Is that what you want?” he murmurs between sharp thrusts. “S’it why you keep this pretty pussy so nice and tight for me? Cause you want them to know that it’s only me? That everything…everything…you do is because of me?”
Your eyes roll back, either from annoyance or pleasure. But it’s blissful, this feeling. This hard fuck, this angry connection.
And yet, this infuriating man is oddly tender with you. Holding you close and helping you find your release, despite the way he goads you.
“Do you, Tink?” he asks again. “Do you want Lucas to see? Want them all to fucking see what you do to me?”
His nails are scraping down your ribcage, pulling you taut against his chest as he drives his cock as deep as it’ll go. Hips meeting your ass as he releases your mouth to hold onto you again, keeping you still.
“Tell me,” he says between deep breaths. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you only cum for me—”
“Har—”
“My greedy little whore. My dirty fucking princess.” His tone is angry. Dissolving into something feral as he begins to pound into you with a harder force. Nearly knocking the wind from your lungs. “Not his. Mine. Always mine—”
“Yours,” you repeat between soft whines. “Yours, Harry, you know that—”
“Yeah?” He holds you tighter, allowing you no room to squirm as he nears his release. His pace becomes faster and sloppier the closer he gets. Allowing your warmth to soak him, draw him in. Using you as nothing more than a toy. A means to his end. “Then prove it.”
Even without much extra stimulation, you can feel yourself getting closer to the brink. Harry has always had this innate ability to get you there without much more than a few pumps of his cock. Perhaps it’s his size or his technique. The way he knows exactly where to thrust in order to hit the right spot and make you see stars.
And maybe there’s a part of you – albeit small – that enjoys the idea of being good for him. Of coming on his cock (or his tongue or his fingers) just so he can watch. So he can feel what he does to you.
Maybe…you just want to be good for him. At least in moments like this. To know that you’ve earned his approval, his praise. That such a brilliant man has devoted his time and attention and body just to you.
That you’re worthy of his time.
Worthy of him.
It’s almost degrading to think about and yet…it makes you clench. Pussy clamping down on his beautifully thick cock until he groans and nuzzles his nose against your neck.
“Shit,” he hisses, rhythm stuttering as a shot of pleasure rolls through him. “Tink, if you’re gonna do that, I’m gonna cum.”
“Good,” you answer instantaneously. “Want you to. Need you to, Daddy, please—”
“No,” he huffs, and he stills for only a moment as if attempting to refrain from falling apart. “No, need you to cum first. Daddy needs to feel you cum first, okay? Come on, baby, gotta give it to me—”
You mewl helplessly, drowning out the rest of his instruction. You’re close, and you know it won’t be much longer until it overwhelms you.
And there’s some part of you that feels…disappointed. Saddened by the idea of things going back to how they normally are. That he’ll take himself from you – take his cock from you – and return to the maddening man you can hardly tolerate.
Maybe subconsciously, you try to hold off. Keep your orgasm at bay so you can keep him just a little longer. So you can appreciate the caring man behind you and the way he’s so desperate to put you first.
He’s quite wonderful when he’s not being an ass.
“Tink,” he grunts, hand moving up toward your jaw. You feel his palm press to your throat, and you swallow thickly against his skin. “Baby, I want you to cum. Wanna feel you. What do you need? Hm? Wanna play with your pretty button for me?”
You nod pitifully and allow your own fingers to move down toward your cunt. It’s wet and achy and swollen so much it almost hurts to touch. But you release a strained breath, nevertheless, appreciating the sting of overstimulation as you writhe in his hold.
You can feel your body beginning to overheat the closer you get. Helping warm you up from the October chill still biting at your skin. And the sounds of your friends aren’t far behind. Perhaps looking for you, waiting for you both to exit the maze and continue on with your evening.
But you don’t give a damn about anybody else right now. Just him.
Something you never thought you’d say.
“Getting closer, yeah?” he hums against your ear, fingers tightening around your neck. “I know. Fucking shaking, baby, you’re okay. I got you. Just let it happen, let go.”
There’s something about his voice. About the feel of his glasses against your temple. About the way he makes you feel safe and secure. The way he effortlessly brings you to the edge and promises to catch you when you fall.
You know he hates you. And yet you also know that despite this loathing you share, you’re still his priority. That he’ll put your pleasure first, no matter what. That he wants to be good.
“Har,” you whimper through a high-pitched whine. “Shit, please—”
“You close? Gonna give it to me? Make Daddy happy?”
The reminder of the nickname makes you moan, a bit softer than before, but still rather lewd. And Harry tsks from behind you, once again sliding his palm up to your mouth.
“Dirty fucking princess,” he grits before he’s suddenly slamming himself into you. “Can’t ever do what she’s told, hm? Just loves to disobey me. Wants to get caught. Wants to be my greedy little girl—”
My greedy little girl.
That’s what does it for you. His possession, his mark, his claim. Reducing you to nothing more than this thing he uses for his pleasure. An object to be had.
In any other moment, you’d chastise him for it.
Right now, it’s everything you need to hear.
You cum on his cock without much choice. Pleasure unfurling like the petals of a flower in spring. For a moment, the overpowering sensation is all you can comprehend. Just ecstasy, a weightless euphoria. Lifting you up and dropping you back down.
He curses when he feels it, offering you quick murmurs of praise before he’s grabbing onto your hips with both hands and yanking you back. Using this leverage to drive his cock in in sharp thrusts before he’s following. Releasing himself into you with a groan as you gasp and grab onto one of the beams for support.
Thirty seconds pass of heavy breathing and lingering whimpers before you both fall quiet, chests heaving and legs still shaking.
He doesn’t pull out for at least a moment or two, merely holding onto your waist as he works to gather himself together.
“Shit,” he finally whispers, and you feel the subtle stroking of his thumb against your tender skin. Right over the bruises you’re sure to find tomorrow. “You okay?”
“Mhm,” you hum weakly, nodding once. “Really good, actually.”
“Yeah? Good. You needed it.”
You feel your lips pull back into a smile. “Oh, did I?”
“You really did.”
“Right. Even though you’re the one that fucks me every time you see me.”
You hear him scoff as he finally – and slowly – pulls out. Allowing your muscles to unwind as you release a deep breath. “I’m doing you a favor,” is his reply. And it’s laced with a condescension and haughtiness that you know all too well.
“Oh, is that what you’re doing?”
“Yes.” He tucks himself back into his briefs before crouching down to reach for your jeans. Pulling them back up your legs with a strange amount of care, despite his snarky attitude. “I do a lot of favors for you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
You turn around while he steps back and readjusts his glasses. “Was getting us lost one of those favors?”
A strange, almost sadistic kind of grin begins to stretch across his face. “Maybe.”
You hesitate. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs once before backing out of the lookout as you rezip your jeans. “It means…maybe I knew this was the wrong way.”
“…I’m sorry?”
His hands shove into his pockets while his sly smile seems to mirror his satisfaction. “I just figured it wouldn’t hurt to do some…exploring.”
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” you nearly gasp, striding after him so you can swat your hand across his chest. “Are you fucking serious? You got us lost on purpose?”
“We were never lost, Tinkerbell. I knew exactly where we were."
"Yeah? And where are we?"
"Taking a detour."
“I cannot believe you,” you murmur, staring at him rather incredulously. “God, you are so fucking horny, it’s insane.”
“Oh, relax,” he snorts. “I didn’t take you back here to fuck you. I just thought you’d wanna see the top of the maze.”
“And you couldn’t have just asked?”
“Would you have agreed?”
You consider this. “…all right, maybe not. But you’re still a fucking ass.”
“Yeah,” he agrees coyly. “I know.”
You keep your stern glare, but your grin is playful. “Whatever. Does this mean you know the way out?”
“I do,” he says. “There’s a shortcut. Cassie and I used to cheat and use it all the time.”
The revelation of her name makes your breath catch. You hadn’t expected him to reveal something so personal, and there’s a part of you that isn’t quite sure what to do with it.
You can tell he hasn’t realized his slip, because he’s still smiling at you like he’s waiting for you to get the joke. To laugh with him.
But there’s something else in his eye – something beautiful and reminiscent. Excited. Like the mere mention of her name has calmed him. Reminded him of a better time. A happier place.
Reminded him of someone who isn’t you.
“I see,” you manage, choking the words out as you glance toward the dirt beneath your sneakers. Avoiding his eye. “Well…great. Get me the hell out of here, please.”
He studies you for a moment. You can feel his eyes boring into your profile, as though attempting to work out just what changed in your demeanor.
Then, he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and says, “Yeah. This way.”
With that, he maneuvers back through the large stocks of corn and leads you through the intricate labyrinth. Weaving his way along the path and bypassing each checkpoint with ease, almost as if he’s done this a hundred times.
You imagine he has.
You reach the exit in only a few minutes, and relief washes over you as you catch sight of your car in the distance. Your means of escape and your excuse to leave him behind.
“Thank God,” you mumble as you both slip out from the corn and back into the light. “That was…excruciating.”
“Oh, was it?” he teases. “Really? All of it?”
“Yes, all of it,” you snort, but you feel rather amused as you glance over his expression. “Let’s never get stuck in a corn maze together again, agreed?”
“Agreed,” he replies, but there’s a certain playful glimmer in his eye. “We can just fuck the old-fashioned way. In your car.”
“Gee, great.”
You both fall silent as your quippy remarks die down. Looking at each other like you’re waiting for someone to break the spell. To return you both to your anger and your rivalry. To poke fun at the few moments of intimacy and understanding you shared and release you from this strange yearning.
You decide to be the first, clearing your throat as quietly as you can while reaching for the collar of the hoodie to slip it off. “Uh, well…thanks again. For letting me borrow this.”
He blinks, momentarily puzzled – or perhaps…disappointed? – as he watches you pull it from your body. “Yeah. No problem. Just bring a fucking coat next time.”
“There won’t be a next time, remember?” you retort, tossing it over.
He catches it with one hand, and smiles. “Right. And thank God for that.”
“Exactly.”
Another lull, the two of you continuing to stand in the dimly lit parking lot as you wait for him to say goodbye.
And suddenly, you realize…you don’t want to go. You don’t want to say goodbye. That you feel…safer when he’s around. More relaxed and at ease. Even when you’re griping with him or resisting the urge to put his head through a wall, he’s still…comforting. A forceful and reassuring presence that you otherwise feel lost without.
Because you remember who he was before…Cassie. You remember his kindness and his ability to make you laugh.
And you know that he’s still that person. He’s still trying to take care of the people he feels closest to, even when he doesn’t mean to. Even when he doesn’t realize.
You know why he pushed you away. You know why he’s created such a vast, unyielding distance. And you can’t exactly blame him.
But the version of him that automatically thinks to care for you…that’s the version you’re drawn to. That’s the version you don’t want to say goodbye to.
“What?” he asks, grinning again as his head cocks. Seeming to notice the shift in your expression. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
You hesitate, lashes fluttering as you work out a response. Wondering just how much you can share…and how much of it is real. “Nothing, I…this was just…”
He waits, brow raised.
Your lips clamp. “Nothing. I’m just thinking about all the fucking work I have to do when I go in tomorrow, thanks to you.”
And you can see he’s unconvinced, eyes flicking between yours as if looking for the real answer. But he waits a beat before his smile fades and he asks, “Why did you really come tonight?”
A bit caught off-guard by the question, you blink. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you could have partnered with anyone else. If you really wanted,” he explains, slowly stepping closer. Forcing a hitch in your throat. “Could have left me behind. Gone ahead. But you didn’t. Why?”
And there it is. That hint – that almost undetectable trace – of vulnerability behind the usual arrogance. He’s giving you the chance, offering you an opportunity for truth.
And maybe you want to take it. Maybe you want to confess and unburden yourself of this weight that’s settled on your shoulders.
The truth teases the tip of your tongue, laden with consequences.
But just before you can offer him the real answer, there’s a distant laugh from one of the groups back in the maze. Interrupting the moment and stealing what little courage you had left.
Your lashes flutter quickly as if shaking yourself from a daze, and you step back. Forcing distance between your bodies in an attempt to find clarity.
Harry watches you go, expression hard and etched with frustration, while you swallow thickly and spin on your heel.
He doesn’t call after you as you race to your car. Doesn’t insist on an answer or try to make you stay.
He merely stands there beneath the warm hue of the streetlamp, allowing you to run away, and disappear into your car before fleeing the scene.
Leaving him behind.
Previous Part:
~ Always*
~ 404 Masterlist
~ Freaky Fun Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
~ Blurb Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
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You Belong To Me
Summary: You find out about your husband Spencer’s affair with another woman. It's safe to say you don’t have the reaction either of them were expecting.
Content warnings: infidelity, voyeurism, facetime sex, humiliation, p in v sex, creampie
WC: 2.3k
“Who is she?” You shudder with disgust as you stare into the sunken eyes of your husband. He looked almost unrecognisable to you now that you’d learned of his betrayal.
“Her name’s Maeve. She’s a geneticist who’s been helping me with those headaches.” He sighs resolutely, knowing there was no point attempting to hide this from you. He didn’t mean to let things escalate but you’d been going through a rough patch and Maeve was just so understanding- she embodied all the things you lacked.
“Did you fuck her?” Your voice trembled with anger, goosebumps piercing through your thin blouse as you braced yourself for his response.
“No. It was a purely emotional affair.” He stated a little too coldly.
“Ah. And I suppose that makes it alright, does it?” You scoffed, getting up from the sofa you were curled up on with Spencer mere minutes earlier before he came out with his crushing confession.
“Of course not. There are no excuses.” He looked down, not daring to meet your appalled gaze. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“Spencer Reid speechless? I never thought I’d see the day.” You chuckle darkly, fidgeting with your wedding band. You loved him with all your heart, the day you said your vows was the happiest of your life- now that he’d broken his, you weren’t sure how much any of it really meant.
“Were you going to leave me for her?” Against your best efforts, your voice broke with a pitiful crack that left Spencer with a pained expression on his handsome face.
“No! No, I promise. I would never leave you.” He interjected, leaving no room for doubt. “She was just a distraction. You’re it for me.”
You sunk back into the plushy couch with a defeated sigh, unwelcome tears pricking your glossy eyes.
“I don’t know, Spence…” You sniffled, beginning to slide the ring off your finger.
“Baby.” He took your hands into his own as he dropped to his knees before you, still in his work suit. “I messed up. I messed up in the worst way possible. I’m a fucking idiot. But if you forgive me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please, my love. I’ll do anything.”
An unfamiliar desperation tinged his voice that made your gut twist into an iron knot. He looked pathetic right now; kneeling on the floor with furrowed eyebrows as he pleaded to save his marriage.
“I want you to call her.” You exhaled sharply after an excruciating moment of contemplation.
“You- what?” His forehead wrinkles deepened with shock.
“You heard me. Call the bitch.” He gulped at your request and his eyes darted around frantically as he analysed every possible outcome.
“A video call. I want to see what the little homewrecker looks like.” You spat as he remained motionless, mouth agape and eyes narrowed. “Unless you’d rather get a divorce?”
“I’ll do it.” He shook his head clumsily, rattled by the whole ordeal.
“Wonderful. Come sit next to me and prop your phone up on the table.” You patted the spot besides you as Spencer stumbled over, still confused by your unpredictability.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Start dialling.” You snapped snarkily as he scrolled through his phone with shaky hands. Locating her contact, his fingers hovered above the call button.
“Dr. Donovan, huh?” You peered over. “The one you told me had been helping you with a case?”
“Y-yeah.” He whispered ashamedly.
“Now this I have to see.” You murmured bitterly as the line began to ring.
“Spence, hi! Wasn’t expecting you to call at this time.” The bubbly voice of the other woman rang out through his speakers. Your eyes zeroed in on the pixelated image of a brunette woman with a choppy fringe.
“Why, do you guys have a set time for your little calls? When I’m sleeping, perhaps?” You popped into the frame, grinning wildly.
“Oh. H-hello. Spencer, what’s going on?” She looked to him for help but he just sat there resignedly, knowing he couldn't appease you both.
“So you’re the one who’s been helping herself to my husband.” You chuckled disingenously. “I thought you’d be a lot prettier.” You neared the phone to get a better look. “Really, baby? Her?”
Spencer looked away, not daring to say a word to his wife or his lover.
“And you? You don’t have anything to say?” You opened the floor to Maeve.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her cheeks reddened as she stuttered, her nauseating voice ricocheting off the walls and worming its way into your ears.
“That’s okay. I don’t need you to talk. Just watch.” You hissed in such a searing way that it made her feel threatened and inclined to obey.
Spencer looked up at you in confusion but his doubts were swiftly answered when you loosened his tie and ripped off his collared shirt with a murderous lust.
“Baby, what-“
“You’re not going to say a word.” You smoothly replied, voice barely audible.
You observed his sad eyes, entrenched with light crows feet that worsened with the weight of stress and regret. You weren’t sure how you were even going to begin to process his betrayal but right now, you had to take care of her first. What better way to drive home the point that he was yours than to show her?
Unbuckling his heavy leather belt with an urgency you’d never felt, you glanced over to make sure Maeve was watching. Sure enough, the demure woman couldn’t peel her eyes away from the sight unfolding before her.
As you pulled down his pleated black trousers, you unbuttoned your blouse and pulled down your skirt, throwing the articles of clothing behind you in a rushed hurl. Trailing your fingers down his boxers with your engagement ring flashing in front of the camera, you settled on his waistband.
“Now, Spence. You’re going to fuck me in front of her.”
His breath hitched as the unholy words left your smirking mouth.
“And you-” You turned to face Maeve, who’s hand engulfed her mouth in panic. “You are going to watch it all.“
“No! You’re insane-“
“Or I’ll tell everyone at your work that you’re a home wrecking whore.” You dropped the threat like a hammer and it instantly silenced her.
“That’s what I thought.”
A twisted grin consumed your face as you looked back at Spencer, who licked his lips at the sight before him- his wife eagerly spread open on the couch, waiting to be filled up. You weren’t sure whether it was an anxious tick or a sign of arousal and frankly, you didn’t care.
“Show me how sorry you are.” You breathed heavily as you hooked your black lace panties and pulled them to the side.
Needing no further initiative, Spencer lowered his boxers and let his heavy cock spring free from its confines. Despite sex being the last thing on his mind, he couldn’t help the natural reaction his body had to you- it didn’t matter how many times he’d seen it in the last 5 years of your marriage, the sight of you split open for him was always enough to bring him crumbling to his knees.
Shuffling closer, he let a long string of spit dribble down to your pussy before smearing it around with his painfully swollen tip. He was in a state of delirium and shock as his body moved as though it weren't his own- whatever the consequences, he knew he couldn't lose you.
“You see that, Maeve?” You cocked your head to the side. “That’s all mine.”
You moaned shakily as he pushed himself in, coating his shaft in your wetness.
“Isn’t that right, baby? Tell her.” You ordered your husband as he grabbed the back of your thigh, pushing against it to go even deeper.
“That’s right.” He groaned as he plunged his cock in as deep as it could go, his skin flush against yours.
“Who do you belong to?” You gazed up at him, running your fingers through his messy curls.
“You, baby. I belong to you.” He whispers before turning to face the camera. “I belong to her. She owns me.”
Maeve let out a short huff of disbelief, wanting to look away but struggling.
“Harder.” You choked out a whisper as your body trembled under his touch, longing for more, aching to possess and to be possessed.
His thrusts sped up in response, his hips smacking against yours fervently as you clawed at his back like a wounded animal.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He whined as he took you by the face with both hands, forcing you to look clearly at him. “I’m so sorry.”
“Keep going.” You whispered frantically- the feeling of being perfectly stuffed paired with your volatile emotional state left you teetering on the edge of collapse.
“She means nothing to me.” He grunted between thrusts and you bore a wide toothy grin at the capriciously sweet words. Real or not, you knew they had to hurt her- and that brought you a sadistic amount of pleasure.
“What were you thinking going for her?” You tutted as he pounded into you like it was the last time, creamy arousal glistening in the dimly lit lounge. “I’m so much better than her. She’s so ugly. Isn’t she, Spence?”
“Y-yes.” He whimpered. “She’s nowhere near as beautiful as you.”
Satisfied enough with his taunting, you pushed him back with a bitter hand against his chest and climbed onto his lap with increasing desperation.
“Bet you wish you could ride him like this, don’t you?” You sneered as you stroked his wet cock with a couple squelchy pumps. “But you never will. This dick is all mine.”
You lowered yourself onto him, adjusting to his size with breathy moans as he threw his head back in deluge. Bouncing on it with more force than usual, you looked back to observe Maeve’s horrified face glowing on the screen.
“You got that, bitch?” You jeered mockingly as you reached for his phone and flipped the camera to show Spencer’s exasperated face. “My husband, my dick.”
With your final act of aggression, you hung up the call and threw the phone behind you. You were fairly confident she wouldn’t be inserting herself into your marriage again any time soon.
“What the hell-” Spencer’s croaky voice rang out in intervals as you continued riding him with stomach-churning speed. “was that?”
“I was reminding you who you’re married to.” You halted for a moment to catch your breath. “You seem to have forgotten.”
His firm, calloused hands snaked their way around your hips as he dug his fingernails into your flesh, bringing you closer to him.
“I'll never make that mistake again.” He declared solemnly, brushing the pad of his thumb against your cheek. “Do you forgive me, my love?”
Your limbs went numb and you felt paralysed at the thought. How could you ever forgive such an abuse of trust?
Spencer firmly grabbed you by the jaw before trailing his hand to the nape of your neck. You wanted to wriggle out of his grasp but he guided your head to rest over his shoulder as he settled his touch on the small of your back.
“I don’t know…” You slumped into him, feeling immobilised as you murmured mindlessly.
He suddenly grabbed your ass and roughly spread it apart to allow easier access to your core- he thrust up into your weeping pussy with a force that had you huffing out wordless squeaks. He set a ruthless tempo, hammering into you as your gushing arousal dripped down his thighs.
“If I’m going to let that little stunt you just pulled slide-“ He growled with a renewed ferocity. “then you’re going to suck it up and forgive me too.”
Whining, you smacked the side of his bicep in protest but the way he was fucking your brains out left you unable to speak.
“I don’t wanna hear it baby.” He kissed your temple sloppily as he patted your hair, smoothing it down while he massaged your insides. “You’re meant for me and I’m meant for you. We’re perfectly fucked up for each other.”
“Mmph-“ You moaned into his shoulder, drool dribbling down his skin as you bit into it.
“I’m never letting you go.” He sped up as his force and aggression grew, leaving bruises in the shape of fingertips littered along your hips and ass.
With one final thrust, you came undone - squeezing his cock so tight in the process that he couldn’t help but fill you up to the brim with his cum. You panted as you tried to catch your breath, creamy wetness pouring out of you as he pulled your sweaty bodies apart.
“Okay.” You sighed. “I forgive you.”
Spencer abruptly sat up as the precious words spilled from your swollen lips. “You mean it?” He trembled hopefully, melting expression tugging at your heartstrings.
“Only if you swear to me it’ll never happen again.” You wagged your finger at him as he leapt onto you unexpectedly.
“Never! Never, baby, I swear.” He planted grateful kisses up and down your body as you indulged in a reluctant smile. “It’s only you. You are the only one for me. Now and for the rest of my life.”
You could tell by his adoring gaze that he meant every word. Wrapping your arms around him, you settled into a healing embrace. He was allowed to make one mistake, you loved him enough to let it slide. And if resentment ever crept up on you, you could always fondly recall that drunken night with Agent Morgan. Who said married couples weren’t allowed a few secrets?
#spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#criminal minds#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid angst#criminal minds smut#matthew grey gubler#matthew gray gubler fanfic#spencer reid fan fiction
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