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macfrog · 10 months

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you shook me all night long sex on fire chapter one

requested by @whore-4-pedro (hope u enjoy lovely)

lived all my succession fantasies out writing this one icl. enjoy 🖤 check out my masterlist for more joel fun ‼️

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: as joel miller's assistant, you're expected to meet all his needs. some are a little more personal than others

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) creepy dude at the beginning, lotta teasing and touching, mentions of female masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), alcohol and drug use, cursing, low-key inappropriate work relationship (if bad then why sexy?)

word count: 7.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more. You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin. “I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?” “Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

It’s Friday night.

You only got home from work an hour and a half ago. Tired, hungry, sore eyes from staring at a screen all night, sore back from sitting hunched over all day. Dumped your bags at the door, ripped your clothes off by your bed, dove straight into the shower. You’d picked an outfit, curled your hair in record time, and even done your makeup before Deb called to say she was out front.

It was a ten-minute drive from your place to the hotel – it’s only a couple blocks from work. The cab driver made light conversation, talked about his daughter and her new puppy, and you both nodded and uhuhed in all the breaks in his sentences. Deb made some comment about it being easier if you’d just stayed at the office until the party, and you’d hummed in agreement, looking out the window at the regal hotel.

Truth be told, you’d rather be doing anything other than attending a work function. You’ve had a long week. A lot of meetings, paperwork, emails to be answered, and most of all, running around after your boss. It’s not all fun and games being Joel Miller’s assistant, regardless of the pay, or the view from your desk over to his.

Your head’s elsewhere when you waltz through the revolving door, heels clicking along the marble floor. The elevator – gold, by the way – slides open and you both step inside, hitting the highest button before you’re swept up twenty floors to the penthouse.

“Did you send those documents over to us yet?” Deb asks.

“Nope,” you reply, slipping out when the elevator dings. “Had to sit in on a meeting with Joel and take the fucking minutes, spent all night writing them up.”

“He won’t be pissed at you?”

“If he hadn’t insisted I was in there with him, you’d have your reports, wouldn’t you?”

She shrugs, agreeing.

“Anyway,” you continue, “I can take angry Joel. He doesn’t scare me.”

Deb chuckles as you shoulder the doors to the penthouse open.

It’s a moody dull, lit only by the lights lining the bar and small lamps decorating mahogany tables, sat next to deep green velvet couches. There are clusters of people everywhere you look; stood near shelves filled with leather-bound books, examining the view from the floor to ceiling windows, sprawled out over luxurious chairs with champagne flutes in their hands. There’s a tree in the middle of the room, branches decorated in blinking string lights reaching to a glass dome in the ceiling.

It's, like, sickeningly pretentious. You know it. Hell, you all know it. Still, in your little black dress, you strut over and take a champagne of your own, sipping on the fizzing drink with one elbow resting on the wooden bar.

“There’s my girl,” his voice coos over your shoulder. “Been watchin’ for you all night, took your time.”

You lean back, bored expression on your face.

Joel’s broad chest pulls on the white shirt he’s wearing, same one you just saw him in little over three hours ago, only without a tie; the top couple of buttons are undone to reveal his chest hair peeking through. You try not to let your eyes linger on him too long.

“You look fuckin’ ecstatic to be here.”

He leans against the bar next to you, arms crossed. When you don’t reply, he nudges you. Your champagne jolts in its glass.

“I always look like this. I’m always ecstatic to be everywhere.”

He smiles. “Why aren’t you mingling?”

“Don’t wanna.”

“’s a work event. That’s the whole point.”

“Then why are you over here talkin’ to me?”

His eyes flash across your lips, and you swear they drop for a nanosecond to your chest.

“Come on,” he says, taking your wrist in his huge hand, “some people you oughta meet.”

Joel ignores your sigh and leads you over onto a plush rug, sidling between knees to sit you down on the soft couch between himself and some bald dude in a jet blue suit, whose shirt is also undone, though much further than Joel’s. He has a chest like a hairless cat.

Cue Ball snakes an arm over the back of the couch; his fingers dance across your back. You shimmy a little closer to Joel and he notices instantly, jaw turning slowly to glance over. When he sees your knees angled toward him, seeking protection, he leans back and wraps his left arm around your shoulders, his right coming down to cup your knee.

“This,” he shakes your leg, left arm pulling you tighter against him, “is my wonderful assistant. My right-hand lady. Couldn’t do anything without her, could I?”

“Could wipe your own ass, that’s about it,” you mumble into your glass, and a roar of laughter sounds from your audience.

Joel, still leaning back, pulls his arm from you but keeps his shoulder firmly behind yours, making sure whatever the creep on your left tries, he’ll feel first. Your elbow rests in the crook of his, and you keep it there, quietly enjoying the intimacy of his body caging yours.

His left hand is settled on your thigh. You realize it after a swig of champagne, and start counting in your head how many seconds his fingers stay gripped on your skin.

He talks with his hands – always has. Walks around his office, ranting and raving sometimes, arms swinging around in the air while you take notes, or file your nails, or just watch until he’s done. For the next half hour, though, he only talks with his right hand. Only sips his beer with his right hand. Only scratches his beard, or pulls his phone from his pocket, or reaches up and passes you a second drink, and then a third, with his right hand.

You stay rigid, legs unmoving, eyes barely leaving his knuckles, locked tight around your thigh. There’s heat from his touch siphoning from his palm down through your skin, rippling like waves all through your body and pooling somewhere south of your belly button. No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake it. Can’t stop thinking about it. You barely notice when Cue Ball’s hand ghosts across your back a second time.

But Joel notices, straight away. He flashes the guy a look, and you swear he’s baring his teeth. Eyes locked on the blue suit like it’s a target, never blinking. He doesn’t say anything when his prey excuses himself to the bathroom, and you don’t turn to watch him go, but you do notice three other sharp-suited pricks stand and wander off in that direction after him.

Probably not a coincidence.

Joel still has a hold on your leg. Your flute is empty, and you lean forward to place it on the wooden table at your knees, beginning to stand.

His grip loosens, but he looks up at you as you tower over him.

“Cocktail,” you tell him with a sweet smile, and he nods, letting you go.

You know he’s watching you as you slink away. Is it the alcohol in your system, or something darker, that makes you sway your hips a little more for his benefit?

Deb’s over at the bar with Martha, another of Joel’s assistants. She’s around his age, worked for him much longer than you have, but when he hired you, you took on most of the groundwork. Following Joel’s orders– sorry, requests, organizing meetings, filing paperwork for him. Martha sits at a desk outside Joel’s office, answers the phone and directs anyone who happens to wander up to the top floor of the building.

Did I say directs? I meant strikes coldblooded fear within them and sends them back running the way they came, with just one look and a nod in the opposite direction.

Unless they’re there for a meeting with Joel, that is. And if they are, that’s where you come in. Good morning, Mr. Salazar, Mr. Miller will be right with you. This way, he’s just finishing up a call.

Martha’s a tough nut. But she likes you enough, so she smiles warmly as you approach.

“I’m hearing all about your note-taking this afternoon,” she hums when you hop up onto a barstool, catching the bartender’s eye. He trots over.

You sigh to Martha, eyes wide. “I didn’t leave until, like, eight. What the fuck’s that about? Can I just get a cosmopolitan, please?” you ask, and the bartender nods. He looks about fifteen.

Martha shakes her head, laughing. “He did it to me when I was first startin’ out, too. Told him to stick his minutes where the sun don’t shine.”

“I’ve been here three years,” you mutter, and Deb snorts.

“You’d think Joel would’ve changed his ways in the, what, seven decades since you started, Martha?”

It earns her a slap across the shoulder. You stifle your laugh behind your glass, thanking the teenager who served you it with a nod.

“Twenty years next March, actually,” Martha says.

“That so? D’you think he’ll get you anything for it?”

“If I’m lucky,” she sighs, eyes travelling up to the ceiling in thought, “a lunch break where he doesn’t bother me once.”

“Knowing Joel, that means a lunch break where he bothers you twice.”

You smile, glancing past the pretentious tree to where Joel is, and notice he’s already staring right back. A swarm of butterflies flutter around your stomach, dancing over the heat his handprint left within you. They only grow more violent when he stands and walks over, broad shoulders swaying, eyes flitting up and down your body.

You lean back, sitting up straight, eyeing him right back as he joins the three of you.

“Speak of the devil,” Martha says, and Joel chuckles in response, but his eyes never leave you.

“We were just talkin’ about Martha’s twenty years,” says Deb, winking.

He finally turns to answer her. “Oh, yeah? When’s that, then, old-timer?”

“Dirtball!” Martha yells, and Joel smirks. It goes straight to your core.

“How many Manhattans tonight, then, Deb?”

Deb holds her glass up. “I am on my second, and I will not be exceeding three. We don’t need a repeat of Christmas.”

“Aw,” Joel complains, tutting, “I liked hammered Deb.”

“That’s ‘cause you didn’t have to deal with hungover Deb,” you mutter, and she shoots you a look.

Joel smiles at you, takes a step closer as Deb and Martha begin comparing past hangovers. He leans forward, waves the fifteen-year-old down, and asks for a beer. As he leans back, you notice the weight of his wrist on your right hip. Nicely done.

“You know there are four guys in the bathroom doing coke?”

“I hope to God that’s all they’re doin’. I don’t need another orgyhappenin’ at one of these things.”

You giggle like a fucking schoolgirl. He looks pleased with himself, and you instantly regret it. You try to play it off by lifting your glass back to your lips.

Joel’s studying you, though, mapping every inch of your face. Watching your mouth as it curves around the shape of the glass, your tongue licking your lips after your sip. He tracks the glass as you set it back down on the bar, then his eyes trail along your arm to your dress, and your stomach leaps.

He looks so fucking good, it sends another wave of energy through your body. Dark hair lined with grey, beard much the same. Strong jaw, lips wetting with every sip of beer he takes, dark eyes flitting across yours, holding your stare long enough to melt you a little, and then dipping just before you can read the thoughts behind them.

His skin a little tanned, his neck thick with muscle. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, you’re so close. Close enough that you could lean up, part your lips and sink your teeth under his ear, suck a mark there, taste him on your tongue.

Your head cocks after a few minutes silence, just the two of you enjoying the fucking look of each other. You lean a little against his arm, steady around your back.

“I hate work parties,” you sigh.

Joel scoffs. “Free alcohol, nice penthouse. Cocaine, if you want it. What’s not to like?”

You narrow your eyes and he laughs for real.

“I hate ‘em, too, baby. Gotta keep up appearances, though, don’t we?”

Baby. This fucker.

“Do we?” you squeak, after a few seconds dazed.

He shrugs. “’s what I hear.”

He’s so close you can smell the beer on his tongue. It makes your heart quicken, your body hum with energy. That could just be the alcohol in your system, though, right?

Who are you kidding? It’s fucking Joel doing it to you.

You have no idea how long he was here before you arrived. He left the office around six, and you presumed he’d come straight here to check everything was in order before guests started arriving. How many beers has he had? Is he just drunk, feeling up on you with liquid courage?

You’re mulling over the thought when a pair of hands clamp down on Joel’s shoulders and his hold on your waist loosens. He mumbles an apology as he’s dragged away by a couple of loose-collared, baggy-suit drunks. You shake your head in response, trying to be cool – It’s all good, man. I’m good. I’m not totally fawning over you right now, no way.

Deb swings her barstool around when she notices you’re on your own, inviting you back into their conversation. Thirty seconds into talking about childhood pets, you’re wishing Joel was back around you, igniting your skin and peaking your adrenaline. Max the Pomeranian is a nice picture; Joel’s nicer.

Martha says something with a hand motion, and Deb nods, elbow knocking into yours.

“What?”

She nods toward the balcony. “We’re headin’ out for a smoke, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll save your seats.”

They nod and wander off between a crowd, swallowed up by bodies in the direction of the open sliding doors, the blinking lights of the skyline ahead.

You’re twirling the base of your empty glass around on its napkin when you feel that same heat behind you again, and a hand rests on the small of your back.

“Coat,” Joel mutters, pulling his suit jacket on.

“Huh?”

“Get your coat. Everyone’s headin’ across the street.”

“Why is everyone heading across the street?”

He shrugs. “Afterparty, I guess.”

“It’s a work function. It’s like–” you check your phone, “–oh, fuck, it’s almost midnight.” You screw your face up, watching as the small crowd slowly melts away through the suite doors.

“I know. I throw a good party, right?”

“So good, people are leaving it.”

He tuts. “Coat. Now.”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“You didn’t bring a coat?”

“You told me the party was here. I didn’t think we’d be walking all over town.”

“’s not all over town, baby,” Joel murmurs with a sigh. “Here.”

He peels the jacket off his shoulders and you hold a hand out to stop him.

“Joel, it’s fine, it’s–”

“Quit moanin’,” he groans as he throws it over your shoulders. He scoops your hair and pulls it softly out from under the collar. “Alright? C’mon.”

He takes your hand and leads you past some stragglers down the hall toward the elevator, where a group are waiting for the doors to open.

“Tight squeeze, Miller,” some dude chuckles as you follow Joel in, his hand still gripping yours.

He turns, backing into the corner, pulling you with him until your back is flush against his chest.

His hands drop to your hips. You swallow back a scream.

One of the accountants is stood in front of your – Harriet? Helen? Something beginning with H – anyway, she keeps knocking back into you, pushed by the sway of the packed elevator. It means you knock a little into Joel, and feel his chin on the crown of your head.

You turn ever so slightly to mumble an apology to him, but when you feel his breath on the shell of your ear, your words die in your throat.

“Hazel?” – That’s her fucking name – Joel reaches around you to tap her shoulder, and her bobbed haircut swings when she turns. “Did you get those balance sheets yet?”

“Not yet, Joel,” she tells him, and your face prickles with heat.

“No? That’s weird.” Joel’s grip tightens on your hips, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. In a low whisper, only to you, he says, “Thought I asked to have ‘em sent over by this afternoon.”

You muster up the courage to reply with a deep breath. From the corner of your mouth, through gritted teeth, you tell him, “That was before you forced me to sit in on a buyers’ meeting.”

You feel his chest rumble between your shoulder blades as he laughs. The elevator shudders to a stop and the doors slide open; the crowd spills out.

You step forward, ahead of Joel, and make it maybe three steps before he’s back on you, an arm draped over your shoulders. You reach up and take his hand, leaning against his strong torso to let him guide you toward the exit.

No idea what makes you do it. Maybe you’re drunk. Maybe not only on alcohol.

You’re the last of the pack, stumbling over air across the gleaming floor toward the revolving door, which Joel pushes open for you. The cool night breeze hits you as you slip out.

The crowd ahead are rushing across the street, yelling and whooping as they go. It’s juvenile, a little cringe. A bunch of rich corporates skipping across the street toward cheap alcohol and peanuts. You’d care more about the way it looks if you were sober.

Joel’s hand finds yours again and he’s leading you down the steps, cutting between parked cars toward the dive bar. You link your other arm around his elbow and he glances down, noting it. You wish the walk was longer.

A flickering fluorescent light drowns you both in a red glow, and Joel pushes the doors open. The place is flooded with half of your party, drowning booths, leaning against the bar, dancing in any open floorspace.

The floor is sticky, the bar dim. Joel takes you over to the same crowd he introduced you to earlier, and makes space for you to sit. You slide along the booth to the wall and he follows, squeezing up to you to let two more in after him.

“Beers?” a guy with a loose tie asks, to a chorus of yeses and a show of thumbs up. Mitch? Mark?

You tug Joel’s jacket from your shoulders – the movement nudges him and he turns to lift it from your back and tuck it behind you, brushing the hair off your shoulders. You smile in thanks, and his hand falls back onto your leg.

It takes you a few minutes to notice it this time. The gentle squeeze of his fingers around your thigh, the way it slowly bumps up each time he adjusts in his seat or shifts to allow space for someone else to join the booth.

His hand moves slowly, dangerously close to pulling your skirt up with it. Mitch or Mark returns with your beers and you take a massive swig, nerves and anticipation and fucking need for Joel to keep doing what he’s doing, taking over.

Under lights blurred by the alcohol in your system, the table buzzes with energy and chatter and laughter. There are posters and stickers all over the walls, graffiti of names and initials, numbers and dates scored into the walls. Joel traces them with his finger and you laugh at some of the messages.

“Lydia and Jack,” you mumble, “12-24-19. Wonder what happened then.”

“Bathroom sex,” Joel replies, eyes scanning the wall.

You scoff, beer to your lips. “On Christmas Eve?”

He nods, like it’s obvious. “Magical time ‘n all.”

You look past him with a smile to the opposite side of the bar where, through silhouetted bodies, you notice a jukebox.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your eyes widen, your mouth agape.

Joel follows your eyeline and then twists back around. “C’mon,” he says, taking your hand and motioning for the others to let you by. He drags you over to the machine, lighting your faces up in yellow light, and your drunk eyes scan the screen.

“Nope." You swipe Joel’s hand away right before he can pick some Pet Shop Boys song.

“Really?”

“Good, but not the vibe,” you tell him, and budge him out of the way with your hip. He sways off, laughing, and leans a palm against the jukebox, his chest on your back for the second time tonight. As your tired eyes scan the songs, Joel’s chin rests on your shoulder.

He’s judging every fucking song you linger on. “Queen? Little before your time.”

“Dick.”

“Fleetwood Mac. Definitely before your time.”

“The entire fucking jukebox is before my time, dude. Shut up. These are good songs.”

You settle on a track and turn to face him. He has you almost fucking pressed against the box.

“Change, please.”

“Oh, I’m payin’, am I?”

“Mhm. Your work party, your wallet.”

He sighs and pushes a fist into his pocket for coins, tossing a quarter into your outstretched palm. You turn back and select your song, put the money in, and the old machine barks out the intro.

Joel sighs, shaking his head. “AC/DC? That’s your thing?”

“It’s not yours?” You’re taking him by the hand between bodies, swaying as you go.

He’s laughing, following you until you’re in the middle of the cramped bar, chest to chest, moving together. His hands find your waist again and this time you don’t even flinch; your fingers trail up his shirt, across his chest, settle on his collar.

You fucking swear he’s leaning in, each beat of the song drawing his jaw closer to yours. If you weren’t in a room full of co-workers, you’d probably let him kiss you.

I mean, what you’re doing right now is hardly innocent anyway. His hands are splayed on your lower back, your hips flat against his, rubbing, dancing. Your head rolls back and your lips are under his chin, smiling up at him and singing along. Joel sings the words straight back, your breath meeting and mingling in the tiny gap between your lips.

As the song ends, it fades into another. And another, and another. It’s two in the morning before your group of partiers begin to call taxis. You stumble out of the sweaty bar with an arm linked through Deb’s, still singing along to Whitney as you catch your breath.

She staggers off to a quieter part of the street to call a cab, and you hang around under the red light waiting for her. Joel’s stood at the curb; the back door of his sleek black Rolls-Royce open.

“Where you goin’?” he asks.

“Deb’s callin’ a cab,” you reply, arms folded, shoulders hunched.

Joel shakes his head. “Get in.”

“It’s cool, I’m jumping in with those guys. Thanks, though–”

“Baby,” Joel holds a hand out, “get in.”

Your eyes trace from his palm all the way up his sleeve, to his tired, handsome face. You’re sobering up. He looks clearer. Maybe that’s just the streetlights.

“Get you home in five minutes. C’mon.”

You swivel around to look for Martha and Deb, but they’re nowhere to be seen. The cab will come, they’ll assume you’re staying a while, and get in. No big deal, right?

Well. Stepping into your boss’s car after a night of highly inappropriate touching is kind of a big fucking deal.

That’s why you do it. Waddle over to him, take his hand, let him guide you to the car. You swing a leg in and slip across the seats, admiring the ceiling dotted with hundreds of tiny white lights, like you’re staring straight up at the night sky.

They blur through your drunken gaze, which doesn’t pull from them until you feel the weight of Joel on your right and hear the door slam shut.

“Mind puttin’ the partition up, Rand?” Joel’s voice says, though you mostly hear the vibrations through his chest, where your head is lying. His arm slips around your back, pulling you closer into him as the two of you are granted privacy by the quiet whir of the screen closing.

“Good night?” Joel asks, lips on your hair.

You nod. “You?”

“Mhm.”

His fingers are drawing shapes on your left hip. His right hand intertwines with yours. Your left hand starts to wander.

You liked his hand on you. Liked feeling his grip there. Wanted him to keep moving it up, wanted to see how far he’d take it. So, you put your own hand on the inside of his thigh, just like he did. Starting at the knee, and slowly sliding north. Joel’s breath tightens, his chest lifts, his jaw ticks.

The movement knocks you sober for a couple seconds. You realize what you’re doing. You draw your hand back.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

He unlinks your hands and places a steady palm over your withdrawn fist.

“’s okay, baby. You can do that if you want to.”

The drawl of his voice makes your eyes roll back, your heart leap. Your fucking legs clench.

You let him replace your hand where it was, and his legs widen a little. His crotch more available. You’re watching what you’re doing like you’re not even in your own body; watching it how Joel must be, thinking Higher, higher, keep going, keep doing that.

You lift your heavy head, resting it on his shoulder, and look up into his brown eyes. He’s framed by the starlit ceiling of the car. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, face lined with his expression.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod lazily. “Tired.”

Just then his hand takes yours again and shifts it softly, stopping what was probably about to happen but still holding onto you, still wanting your fingers locked in his. Not halting the train, just switching tracks.

It’s not a long journey, certainly not as long as you’d like, until you’re parked on your street. Rand lowers the partition to call back, and Joel thanks him.

“You okay gettin’ to your apartment?”

“Yup,” you groan, hoisting yourself out of the comfortable car.

“Sure? I can walk you up if you want.”

You bend down, one arm on the roof of the car. “I’m good, thanks. Thanks for the ride, Miller.”

“Be safe, baby.”

“You be safe, too. Bye.”

You throw the door closed and meander off up the steps toward your building. Joel’s car doesn’t roll off until your elevator arrives and you disappear inside.

You spend all weekend in bed, recovering not only from the party but from the week of work you’d endured. You keep yourself busy, though. There’s a Desperate Housewives marathon on TV. And when you’re not watching that, your hand is stuffed down your pants, Joel on your mind.

All. Fucking. Weekend.

In the shower, you’re picturing him on his knees in front of you, lapping you up. Hands gripping your thighs, draped over his shoulders. Your hand plants firmly against the wet tile when you cum, your orgasm threatening to collapse you in a heap.

In bed, you’re on top of him, knees either side of his waist, letting him buck his hips up until you’re screaming, covering him in your wet. Your vibrator battery dies by Saturday night.

Monday morning, you’re getting ready to leave for the office, and need to take ten minutes out to relieve the ache between your legs again. This time, he has you pressed against your bedroom wall, fucking you quick and messy, cumming deep inside you before he’ll let you head out.

It’s just a crush, right? It’s just because of how touchy you guys were on Friday. When you were drunk. And in a cramped, dark dive bar. Everybody gets crushes. And who wouldn’t, on a six-foot-whatever man with a jawline that could cut glass, hands that take a grip of you with minimal effort, a cock probably the size of…

No. Nope. That’s enough. Cut that the fuck out.

It’s just a crush. That’s what you keep telling yourself in the elevator, lights counting down the floors until you’re going to see Joel again. Is the sparkling feeling in your chest fear, anticipation, or excitement?

And is your cunt beginning to throb again?

You give a curt nod to Martha as you arrive, hauling your bag a little further up your shoulder and adjusting the folders in your arms on your hips.

“Where’d you go?” she asks, eyes still on the computer in front of her. Her chin propped on her elbow, face inches from the screen, reading something intently.

“Huh?”

“On Friday. We couldn’t find you when the cab arrived.”

“Oh, I, uh,” you clear your throat, “Joel gave me a ride. Yeah.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Generous of ‘im.”

“Yup.”

“He’s in the conference room waitin’ for you.”

“Cool, thanks.”

You hover for a few seconds, then take your cue to leave. You hurry over to the conference room door, knocking twice before pushing it open.

Joel’s sat at the top of the table, leant back in his chair, feet up on the wood in front of him. You feel like you could collapse.

“Mornin’,” he says, over the dull droning from the phone. Your eyes flit down to it, a question, and he answers, “weekend update.”

“Anything good?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward to hit the unmute button, affirm whatever the hell the other dude had been saying, say his goodbyes, and then hang up.

“Feelin’ fresh?” he asks when he’s sat back.

You take a deep breath and wobble your head as an answer, laying files and folders out on the table in preparation for the meeting Joel has this morning.

“That bad, huh?”

“I was fine by Saturday afternoon. How were you?”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t that drunk.”

Yeah. Sure, Joel. Your fingers took the brunt of the alcohol.

He stands up, wanders around the table to join you. Your fingers begin to tremble at the thought of him so close. Your thighs heat.

“This all of it?” he asks. He’s closer than you thought.

“Y-yep. Some copies there, too, if anyone needs a spare.”

His hand slips up between your shoulder blades, patting you gently at the base of your neck.

“Good job, baby.”

You almost fucking shudder. Your stomach jolts, your chest tightens. The ache between your legs pangs, reminding you it’s there, even though you can’t fucking do anything about it.

You spin around, settling back against the table, ankles crossed. Tense.

“How long do you reckon it’ll go on?”

“No idea. Why? Somewhere you gotta be?”

You shake your head. “Just organizing lunch ‘n stuff for you.”

“That can wait until after.”

“I’ll have it ready for you comin’ out. Be easier.”

He steps forward. Your heart stutters.

“You’ll be in here with me.”

You cock your head. “Again? What– Why?”

“I need you in here. To take–”

“–minutes? Yeah, figured as much. You gonna have me up here all night again writing ‘em up?”

He smirks, dimples in his cheeks. There are two options here: either smack him, or jump his bones – he deserves the first and you deserve the latter.

“I like having you in my meetings, darlin’,” he says, as the door handle turns, “stops me wanting to blow my brains out.”

Martha enters and Joel slots in alongside you on the table. She sets a tray with a coffee pot and packets of sugar and milk on the sideboard.

Your head is fucking dizzy. There’s a ringing in your ears. Energy sparkling in waves from the tops of your thighs all through you. Joel’s shoulder brushing against yours, his eyes boring into the side of your face.

You won’t look at him. Won’t take your eyes off of Martha, laying paper coffee cups out in rows, her back to you guys.

Joel lays a palm flat on your thigh, rounding the curve until his hand is firm between your legs, threatening to push your skirt up. You feel his breath hot on your neck, his voice like honey in your ear.

“Makes for a nice view, too.”

You whip around to glare at him. He leans back, chuckling to himself.

Through gritted teeth, you whisper, “Can I talk to you? In private?”

Joel shrugs, excuses you both to Martha, and then follows at your heels out of the conference room and over to his office door. You waltz in without permission, shoving the door open and waiting for him to close it behind himself.

Joel’s office is bright, clean. Giant windows lining three walls, huge desk with an even bigger bookcase behind. Two black leather couches opposite, facing one another with a glass coffee table between. Soft white rugs, obnoxiously huge lampshades, small fern plants dotted here and there. You found and booked the interior designer for him, and not a day’s gone by since that you don’t remind him of how nice a job you did.

Today, though, you break that streak. You round on him as soon as he closes the tall, wooden door behind him.

“Will you fucking quit it?”

“Fucking quit what, baby?” He’s almost laughing, strolling around his desk and settling into his leather chair, leaning back. Casual. Fucking – arrogant.

You stammer, holding up a shaky finger. “Okay, first of all – that. Don’t call me baby, that’s not appropriate. Second – the teasing?”

“I don’t get it, you liked me callin’ you baby on Friday night.”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and give him a furious stare. He holds his hands up.

“My mistake.”

You stalk over to the windows separating Joel’s office from the reception area. Martha’s still in the conference room, the door ajar. You haul the shades shut to give yourselves some privacy.

“Stop – fucking with me. Stop it. We were drunk on Friday night. It wasn’t– Stop.”

“’m not fucking with you.” He leans his head to scratch his eyebrow. He repeats it when you turn away, hands flying up in the air. “I’m not.”

“Let’s just forget Friday happened, can we do that?”

Wandering around Joel’s office isn’t doing anything to relieve the weight between your legs. If anything, it’s making it worse. You make your way back to his desk and place your hands down on the wood, leaning over.

“Wh…what’s next on the agenda?” you ask, almost panting, your eyes closing.

You hear Joel’s chair rock when his weight leaves it. His footsteps pad across soft carpet, around the desk. Nearing you. They come to a halt and you feel the air stop short, right behind you.

For someone not trying to fuck with you, he’s doing an awfully good job at it.

You surrender, leaning back, your shoulders making contact with his chest. Then his hands find your hips, light, gentle. No pressure on them, not until your ass presses against his crotch and your head tilts, allowing Joel to hook his chin over your shoulder.

He’s hard, under his pants. Against you. You can feel it, still, steady. Rock solid beneath four layers of clothing.

His hands lift from your waist and glide up your shirt front, your stomach tensing when they brush over it. They come to rest over your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples through your shirt. And you fucking let him; lifting your right arm to hook around his jaw and pull him closer into your neck, where his lips leave soft, wet marks.

It feels like the first gasp of fresh, sea air after being underwater. The first gulp of chilled water after a hike. The first wave of aircon in the car. It’s relief. It’s desperate, borderline orgasmic relief.

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more.

You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin.

“I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?”

“Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” you repeat, and he nods. You take a breath. “S-sounds good.”

Joel’s hands find the hem of your skirt and start to pull it up your legs, painfully slow, revealing more and more of your bare thighs as he goes. He’s rubbing them, massaging until your skirt sits on your hips, little black panties exposed. His hand comes down to cup you, fingers gently applying pressure to your clit through the lace.

You moan, finally being touched by him again, finally feeling his hands on you where you need it most. Already, he’s doing better, making you feel better than you could ever by yourself. Than you did, by yourself. Involuntarily, you breathe out, “Daddy…”

Joel’s fingers pick up the pace. He fucking loves it.

“That feel good, baby? Like it like that? Tell me how it feels.”

“So – fucking – good,” you whisper, legs parting more to grant him better access. He dips his hand lower, thumb staying planted on your lace-covered clit, fingers shifting the fabric under your entrance aside.

He toys with you first, middle finger swaying back and forth through your folds, collecting slick, spreading it around. Then, a second finger, pushing upward, dangerously close to entering you. You’re gasping, leaning into him, letting his strong form keep you upright.

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s whispering into your ear. “You ain’t gotta do nothin’, just enjoy.”

And then he pushes up, two thick, curled fingers entering your cunt in one motion. He has you down to his knuckles, limp against his chest, mouth wide open in a silent gasp. Your head rolls to the side to watch him as he feels you for the first time, and his expression mirrors yours.

“So fuckin’ wet, babygirl,” he whispers, lips on your forehead.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whimper as his fingers press hard inside your soft pussy, starting to pump gently before picking up the pace and fucking you good.

The office is silent, save for your gasps and moans, and the wet sounds of Joel’s fingers in your cunt. He hums into your neck, thumb pressing hard against your clit, drawing tiny circles over the swollen bud.

It doesn’t take fucking long before you’re collapsing, walls clenching, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. It’s all that’s been on your mind for almost three days, all you’ve imagined, dreamt about, thought of.

Joel feels you, knows you’re close.

“Wanna cum all over daddy’s fingers, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you bite back a yelp, “so – close.”

“Know you are, baby. It’s okay, you can cum. Let me feel you.”

That coil, slowly winding since approximately nine-thirty on Friday night, not relieved by your hands, your toys, or your fucking pillows, snaps in one second. The tension breaks across your stomach. Your legs give; Joel’s free hand wraps around your waist to hold you upright.

You throw your head back against his shoulder again, jaw slack with a moan you know you can’t give voice to. Joel fucks you all the way through it, fingers coated in your cum only to dive straight back in, wetter and slicker than before.

There are stars in your vision. You can’t feel between your legs. The office is slowly blinking back into view, but Joel gives you no time to recover.

He pushes you face down onto his desk roughly, hastily, like someone’s about to wander through his door any second. One ear pressed to the cold wood, you hear his belt clink, feel the teeth of his zipper graze your thighs. Hear his deep breaths as he drags his pants and boxershorts down to free his cock.

You’ve never seen him, obviously. You’ve pictured it, dreamt up what it would look like with your fingers deep inside yourself. And from this angle you still don’t see it, but when the weight of it springs against your ass, when Joel lines himself up and his tip dips between your cum-covered folds, you fucking feel it.

His thick head pushing slightly into your entrance, coating him in your slick. He’s big. You moan at the time he’s taking to just shove into you; it’s probably seconds, but it feels like fucking hours.

“I hear ya, I know,” he’s saying, but your hearing’s starting to fade. Blood pumping through your head, white noise rattling against your eardrums.

He pushes in, length separating your clenched walls, entering your wet, warm cunt with a deep growl from Joel’s lips and a gasp from yours. You open up around him, swelling as he pushes deeper and deeper.

“So – fuckin’ – tight for me, baby,” he groans, hands on your hips pulling you back onto his length. “You feel that? Feel how tight you are?”

“Mhm,” you reply, the stretch of his thick cock burning and igniting you in flame. Your eyes screw shut as he keeps pushing, further than you ever thought anyone could, until his tip kisses your cervix and you whine.

“Quiet, babygirl,” he says, pausing and placing a steady hand on the small of your back. “We don’t need anyone out there knowin’ what we’re doin’.”

“So good, daddy,” you whimper quietly, and he knows. He fucking knows.

He begins to draw back, hips leaving your ass, cock pulling out of your pussy. Your eyes roll closed, missing him the more he withdraws. Before he’s fully gone, he snaps back inside, entering you harder, faster, deeper.

You gasp, knuckles whitening with the grip of your balled fists. You bend one arm, biting into your sleeve to stop your whimpers from slipping under the door.

A couple more thrusts and Joel’s fucking you. Hard. He’s fucking huge, so huge it blurs the edges of your vision every time his cock hits against your cervix. He’s almost fucking whimpering behind you, growling your name with every stroke, groaning each time he bottoms out inside you and your tight hole wraps around his length.

You can feel the edge of the table bruising your pelvis, and it feels so fucking good. Everything about this feels good. Joel’s cock stretching you out, his hands gripping you roughly, your own hands outstretched to hold onto the desk for some sort of stability.

The only thought going through your head, only words your lips can part to utter: daddy daddy daddy.

“Good girl,” Joel hums, your moans like music to his ears. “Good fuckin’ girl. Know how naughty you are for me?”

You smile. “Yeah, daddy.”

This is the filthiest thing you’ve ever fucking done. Sure, you love sex, especially when it’s rough. But nothing you’ve ever done with anyone else, nothing you’ve ever had done to you by anyone else, compares to being bent over your boss’s desk and fucked dumb by him.

Calling him daddy, corporate managers slowly filing into a conference room just outside. Only an unlocked door separating them from you, writhing and throbbing under Joel’s cock, his rough hands on your hips, your name passing his lips in breathy moans.

Is it wrong? Yes. Do you care? Fuck no.

You know he’s close; his thrusts become sloppy, hips start hammering against you.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” he grunts, skin slapping.

You’re on the pill, and if you answered honestly, you’d tell him to finish inside you. But you know that if he wanted to do that, he’d just fucking do it. Wouldn’t ask. And you’re not prepared to waste time arguing.

“My m-mouth.”

“C’mere.” Joel slips out of you with no effort, you’re so fucking soaked for him, and spins you around. A gentle hand on your shoulder, he pushes you onto your knees, free hand jacking his cock over you.

It’s the first time you see him, fist tugging up and down a thick, veiny shaft; swollen, reddened tip spilling precum which his thumb collects and drags down his length, gleaming with your wet.

On instinct, you push forward, one hand coming to rest on his thigh, the other taking over from his on his dick. You pump him a few times, and then open your mouth wide enough to take him all the way until he’s brushing the back of your throat.

With a choke, you begin bobbing your head up and down, cheeks hollow, breathing deep through your nose. Joel moans, head rolling back, hand coming to hold your hair in a fist. He drags you back and forth a few times before he begins to shudder and you draw back, holding him steady on your swollen bottom lip.

He looks down at you and your eyes lock as he cums all over your tongue. You moan as your mouth fills with his warm, salty load. When his cock stills and he stops spilling all over you, you lean back and close your mouth, licking your lips and swallowing him.

“Aw, babygirl,” he coos, stroking your hair. “Good job. Such a good girl for me.”

You both take a few seconds to catch your breath before Joel’s hands hook under your arms and he pulls you back up, letting you lean against his desk.

Still in a daze, you feel him tug your skirt back down, fix your shirt. Tuck your hair behind your ears, wipe either saliva or cum from your lips.

“Good?” he asks, and you lace your fingers in his.

Your breath is still shaky, but through a sigh, you say, “Good.”

He nods. “Can hear Ken out front, must all be arrivin’.” He pulls you over to the door.

His fingers wrap around the handle, free hand coming up to cup your cheek. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You open your mouth and let his tongue past, moaning into the wet, messy kiss.

Something in you almost wants to laugh, thinking about the fact you let him fuck you before you’d even kissed him.

When he pulls away, your hands take hold of his jaw, keeping him at your height.

“Have a good meeting,” you whisper, pecking him on the lips, “text me what you want for lunch.”

He growls, yanking the door open and passing by you, granting your wish to sit this one out. Something in you tells you not to wander far, though.

He’ll probably want to blow off some steam when he’s done.

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #ceo!joel miller #ceo!joel #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo

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kivino · 6 months

Text

I DON’T CARE WHAT’S IN YOUR HAIR || ROOMMATE!JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH X GN!READER

Word Counter – 1.9k

Tags/Warnings – Some friendly banter, can be read as both platonic and romantic, fluff!

Summary – Your roommate Johnny comes back after his deployment and his hair looks like it needs a little trimming.

A/n – I AM ON MY ROOMMATE!SOAP AGENDA AND I WILL SPREAD IT FAR AND WIDE. let me know if you guys would like to see more roommate!Soap things on my blog, i'm very interested in different opinions!!!

ao3 link!!

Soap couldn’t wait until he was finally back home – several months had passed since his last leave and he was getting restless and antsy without the very much-needed rest. And, well, your company, which he missed more and more each day. You’d constantly be on his mind, plaguing his every thought with your presence, from a rather simple, passing “Oh, they’d like this joke” inside his head to talking the ears off of anyone who’d listen to him ramble about his lovely roommate, who he affectionately called “my dumbass back home”. Slowly, but surely, the number of people willing to lend an ear to restless Johnny became less and less, with each day of him staying on the base. So really, it was more of a favor extended to all the resident soldiers there.

Soap could almost feel the buzz of excitement itching under his skin, the commute back to your shared apartment was really long and tiring; the huge duffel bag filled to the brim with dirty laundry and a variety of clothes he shoved inside in a hurry didn’t help with the soreness in his body either. Soap, thankfully, didn’t forget to tell you earlier this week that his leave got approved, which you didn’t seem too excited about over the text, but he knew that you were screaming and jumping from joy. Maybe.

The last time he forgot to do that ahead of time he came back to an absolute disaster inside the apartment, with you trying to cook dinner while doing laundry, vacuuming, and cussing him out for not telling you earlier. Truth be told, Johnny didn’t mind if the apartment was messy, with undone dishes and whatnot, he’d help you do everything, but you were fixed on the fact that you should do it yourself and it’s absolutely crucial that everything has to be perfect by the time he’s back. Ghost joked that you had some military spouse mentality when Soap mentioned it to him (among countless other times he’d tell the big guy about you). Maybe there was some truth to this joke. Just maybe.

Regardless, Johnny could feel the bounce in his step and the same lightness in his chest when he was finally within a short walking distance of the apartment, and he just simply couldn’t wait to see you, even if you were a bit tired after all the cleaning you’d have to do in the apartment to keep up this image of a “perfect roommate”, despite being to him much more than just that. Seconds drag out unbearably long when he’s going up the steep stairs in the building that have certainly seen better times than the 21st century, and Soap thinks he could combust when he has to rummage through his pockets for the keys he hasn’t used in months. Johnny could hear the vacuum moaning from exertion from his place outside the door and an unintentional smile grazes his lips when he hears you cursing something out in your native language. Johnny finally fishes the key out of his pocket, hurriedly unlocks the door, and goes inside, as quietly as he can, which you can still hear even over the sound of a working vacuum.

“Johnny, you ass, you’re finally back.” You’re immediately distracted from the home appliance, as you turn it off and focus your attention solely on Soap, running up to him across the room and helping him with the giant duffel bag. “Thought you died out there with long they held up your leave.” You mumble with a chuckle that turns into a rough shriek, courtesy of Johnny squeezing the life out of you with a tight and warm embrace.

“Aye, there we go, bonnie, let’s hug it out!” If you could hear over his loud booming voice you were sure you’d hear your bones snapping from how tight his arms wrapped around your torso. You’d probably hug him back if you could free your arms out of Johnny’s hug too, but that didn’t seem to be an option at the moment.

“Johnny, for fuck’s sake, you stink!” You only hear a hearty laugh in response to your dramatic delivery. You tried to seem annoyed with Soap, which was a bit harder than you initially thought. You kind of missed him, the apartment felt cold and empty without his chatter.

“And that’s how you treat me after we haven’t seen each other for months? You wound me so deep.” The man says in a mock-sad tone. Deep inside of him, he felt that – you’re not being serious and just messing with him. So, he only continued squeezing you in his arms, without much thought. “When did you shower last time anyway?” you ask with a light groan. “Not in the past 24 hours, I’ll tell ya that.” Johnny’s chest rumbles with a low laugh and you can feel those vibrations going right through you, from how close you were.

“Oh, fuck off. And what’s with the hair? Decided to take some fashion advice from those edgy lads down the road?” You finally look up at Soap and he looks…Interesting to say the least. It’s obvious that someone probably helped him trim down the sides, since they didn’t appear much longer than they were several months ago when he left last. The longer part of the mohawk, however, made him look like he decided to go full mullet, with parts of his hair cut in certain places, like there was an attempt to make it shorter. It wasn’t bad-looking by any stretch of the imagination (in fact, you were sure, that Johnny can make look good just about anything if he managed to pull off the fucking mohawk in the first place), but you had to take the piss at him while you had the chance.

“Everyone’s a critic. Help me cut it then, will ya?” The man asks, slightly loosening his iron grip on you to look you in the eyes with an infectious smile.

“Only after you wash.”

“Naturally.”

And that’s how you find yourself in the cramped, tight bathroom of your apartment, Johnny sitting in front of the mirror on a stool, back hunched over the sink and you standing right behind him, with a pair of scissors and a clear goal in mind – sort out whatever mess was on his head. If it was up to you, you’d find a person who decided to make Johnny the next victim of their questionable fashion choices and cut off their fingers so they can never hold anything that can cut hair in their hands again. But for now, you just have to figure out what to do with Soap.

“You look like a feral rat on steroids, Johnny,” You say, as your fingers slowly drift through the longer, very grown-out parts of his mohawk. You look at his reflection in the mirror and your eyes meet, despite the weird angle his head was positioned at, just to rest on your stomach. Soap gives you a lopsided smile and closes his eyes with a relaxed sigh. That bath must’ve been good, you scrubbed the shit out of the bathroom yesterday.

“Well, somebody’s gotta be the pretty one outta the pair of us.” If you were meaner than you already are you’d yank his hair to teach his ass a lesson. But you don’t. And he knows you wouldn’t do that, which is why you can see one barely open blue eye staring back at you from the mirror. He’s such a pain in the ass, but you love him. The world will collapse the day you actually acknowledge that though.

“You’re butt-ugly.” You mumble instead, playing with the damp strands of hair that refused to stand up the way they did before his deployment. You didn’t know much about the military dress code but you’d be surprised if he wasn’t violating any regulations with how his hair looked.

“Yer mum would disagree.” Johnny gave another hearty laugh and leaned more into you with his back. It really felt great to be back home. He could’ve still lived with his parents and sisters back on that farm, but as much as he loved them, relatives were too much sometimes. Maybe he should visit them soon with you. That’d be great. Johnny just has to explain beforehand that you’re only roommates, so it doesn’t turn into a big mess, that he’d hate to sort out.

“You don’t even know my mum, you wanker.” You slap Johnny on the shoulder lightly and he doesn’t even flinch. “Come on, straighten up.” He reluctantly obeys and gets up from his unusual resting position, you hear no verbal protests from him. With a light, gentle motion your hand ruffles his hair in approval.

“I’m sure she’s a woman of refined taste.” This earns Soap another slap to the shoulder, to which he laughs like a damn schoolboy. Your eyes are glued to his hair, studying it carefully. You didn’t have much experience even trimming it on somebody else, so this was a bit nerve-wracking – you didn’t want to mess up and make Johnny look worse. Although not a lot of things could look genuinely bad on the man, you were willing to admit that. You finally take the scissors that have been sitting on the edge of the sink for the past half hour and pinch the longer stand that fell over Johnny's eyes between your index and middle fingers. “Well, what are you waiting for? Cut it.” He tries to hurry you, and you can’t even see the way he observes your expression - brows tied together in a thoughtful frown, Johnny thought it looked quite cute.

“Shut up, I’m thinking.” Your eyes rise to the mirror again and he playfully rolls his eyes. He doesn’t say anything though, letting you take your time, as you put down the scissors. You start ruffling Johnny’s hair again and you see the way he closes his eyes in the reflection, a warm smile stretching his lips. Your hand rests on the side of his face for a moment and not even a second passes, before you feel Soap’s palm rest over it in a gentle motion. But it doesn’t end on it, when he rubs his cheek over your skin, his stubble scratching you slightly. You let him have this moment though.

You look at his hair, as you ruffle and play with it using your free hand, and your realization makes you want to bash your head on the wall. You like it better like this. This is stupid and you feel like an idiot. At least you had an idea on how you can tell Johnny that you changed your mind about cutting his hair. Your fingers dive into his hair again, scratching the scalp lightly with the nails as you give your final verdict, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“I don’t think I can make it any worse than it already is, to be honest. Somebody fucked you over real good with that one.” You lie right to his face. Johnny opens his eyes and gives you a mischievous smile when he hears that.

“So, what I hear is you’re chickening out?’ He asks with a light, airy laugh that makes even the cold bathroom feel warmer.

“Johnny, get out of here before I shave you bald”

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jeonjcngkook · 1 year

Note

What about a drabble where the oc hasn't seen jk in a while and when they are hanging out, she like finally sees him and smothers him with affection, kissing his moles and you know just giving him kisses and he's all giggly and blus.... Omg what have i done.

right where you left me | jjk

pairing: jungkook x female reader genre(s)&au(s): sfw, fluff, romance, established relationship, domestic happiness, slice of life word count: 2.7k warnings: mention of alcohol + 1 sip bcs oc rather be drunk on luvin koo 🤤🥴 oh bet believe we r bringing back blue haired koo just 4 u sarah 🙃, making out, kisses kisses kisses 😚😚 — srsly i say it 24 times n its still !! not !! enough !! grr, ((maybe a surprise daddy koo who fuckin loves his baby ??)), how many times can i call koo 'pretty' ; the answer is also not enough 🥹 !! um, suggestive hints at sex 🫣 & sav being her typical self and never letting the est rel romance agenda go — srsly i cant do anything else 🫠. rating: mature nc17+ for suggestiveness note: unedited asf 🤷🏻‍♀️… ive had this lil request in my inbox for a while n wanted so save it for something special. so for @caelesjjk — i hope this makes you smile as much as it did me writing this. happy bday angel ♡ and for the anon who requested this, tysvm i love lil fluff requests like these n hope to do more 💘 hopefully you also like it too

Sighing a sigh of relief, you have never felt so happy to kick your shoes off at your front door after being away from work for so long. The all too familiar feeling of your feet sinking into the plush grey carpet beneath you fills you with a sense of comfort completely overriding the homesickness that once hovered over you like a bleak grey cloud.

The house is quieter than usual, the only sounds are from the floor creaking as you swap your shoes for your fluffy slippers filling the empty spaces. You pick your keys that you had just thrown on top of the shelf at the front door and hang them up next to your husband's set of car keys; the sight of them hanging gives you the answer that you’ve been asking yourself.. Jungkook should be home.

Making your way further into the living space, you notice that the house is kept in the exact same condition it was when you left last week for a girls getaway trip to London. There are the odd toy lying on the floor but other than that, it’s spik and span. The lack of sound from the TV, which is usually showing a rerun of Jungkook or your own favourite show is almost deafening, used to always hearing something playing in the background. Come to think of it, there are also no signs of melodic sounds from Jungkook’s usual soft r&b playlist either.

The smell of cooking fills your nose and your mouth starts to water immediately. If Jungkook is unaware of the fact you’re home then you decide that you would keep this up and slowly tip toe into the kitchen in hopes to surprise your husband.

Slowly, you creep through the warmth of your living room and into the kitchen area where Jungkook doesn’t seem to be. You frown at the lack of husband in the room, a little worried about his whereabouts. He knows you’re returning today, even offering to pick you up at the airport when you land himself but you refused as your friend’s boyfriend was providing you transport home already.

However, as quickly as your frown came, it left when you find a bottle of red wine sitting on the island in the middle of the kitchen, and sitting next to it are two glasses and you can’t help but gnaw on your bottom lip to try and suppress your smile. You decide to rummage through the drawers, pulling out a corkscrew and removing the cork from the neck of the bottle. With a pop, the wine bottle opens and the scent of the fruity alcohol mixes with the smell of dinner, which is in the slow cooker behind you and you can’t help but let out a low hum of satisfaction. You pick up the bottle and pour the liquid into both glasses until half way.. If you're going to surprise your husband then you may as well do it with a glass of wine to greet him with.

Picking up the glasses in each hand, you decide to head up the stairs to the top level of your home to find Jungkook. As you pass the stairs, you stop and look at the wall which is filled with pictures of you both together as well as pictures of your family. You smile as you look at the images of family holidays, special occasions and fun times you’ve spent together. Your wedding picture of you both is centred in the middle and you can’t help but smile wider at the image.

Dressed head to toe in white lace and tulle with a diamond centrepiece on the dress, which glitters in the picture as the camera caught a moment between you and Jungkook staring at each other with love and admiration for each other. Jungkook stands next to you in his custom made all white wedding tuxedo and a matching diamond brooch clipped onto his suit jacket. One of his hands was wrapped around your waist as the other was playing with the ends of your hair. You remember in the moment that Jungkook was laughing a boisterous and beautiful giggle right before he kissed you so tenderly for the picture.

It wasn’t an image that was meant to be taken but it ended up being your favourite from the wedding shoot.

You move on and climb the rest of the stairs slowly and quietly. As you reach the top, your head turns in the direction of your shared bedroom and immediately you see the door is wide open and the room empty meaning there is only one other place Jungkook could be. You head in the opposite direction when you see the last door at the bottom of the hallway cracked open slightly, only to let a sliver of red light into your view from the hallway.

The faint sounds of keyboard clicks can be heard as you approach the room. Gently, you push the door open to be greeted with Jungkook’s dual monitor screens lighting up the room along with the dark LED’s. The top of Jungkook’s head can be seen over the headrest of his gaming chair as you see his giant headset resting over his ears, blocking out the sound of the outside world as he continues to click away at the buttons on his keyboard, successfully managing to kill an opponent on the opposite team of the game he is playing.

On one of the monitors, you manage to see the little pop up figure of his body in the corner and notice that he’s shirtless, which isn’t something he usually does when he streams. You scrunch your eyes slightly to find that Jungkook has your eight month daughter wrapped up in her favourite white blanket resting herself on his chest as one of his hands sits underneath her to keep her placed comfortably. It’s now that you register the little snores coming from your baby girl as you lean against the doorway and take in the sight in front of you. Your little girl has her tiny palm opened and resting against her daddy’s skin and her chubby cheek pressing into the bare skin of his chest.

You hear Jungkook hum as he watches over the comment section of his stream as he continues to play, making sure to answer people as quickly as the comments come.

“...Yeah, it’s proven that skin to skin contact between newborn babies and their parents improves bonds long after birth,” you hear Jungkook say and you grin at his answer. You bought those books on pregnancy for you but you swear you caught Jungkook amongst the novels more than yourself. Every night through your pregnancy, Jungkook would tell you a new fact that he had learned for the day and couldn’t wait to share it with you.

“It also lowers stress levels for babies and parents too, as well as promotes a healthy breastfeeding cycle for the little one. I’d do anything I can to help out _____ in any way I can. She’s brilliant. She gave me everything I could ever want right here,” Jungkook says as your little girl rustles slightly against him. “Speaking of ______, she should be home soon,” he thinks out loud.

Placing both of the wine filled glasses on top of the table on the side wall, you’re able to rummage your hands in your pocket to pull it out. You snap the image in front of you of him on the monitor with your baby in his arms before opening your thread of texts between each other and captioning the moment before sending him the picture.

Jungkook’s own phone lies on the desk with the screen up; lights up with your notification. You watch as he’s quick to grab it and clicks into the notification to enter in your direct messages together.

You [8:32pm] : {image attached} shes already home ;)

Jungkook turns around and sees you standing there waiting for him with the glasses in your hands, smiling fondly at both him and the infant in his arms. He immediately replicates your smile before turning back to the camera he has set up and announcing his departure from tonight's live stream.

Slowly, he moves out of his gaming chair and makes his way over to you. In the week you have been gone his hair has already grown out a few extra inches, the blue ends now long enough to touch his jawline. The front of his hair falls over his face in pretty black wispy curls while some fall from the sides and have been clipped back by a few of your hair clips. He’s just so beautiful. His bare chest rises up and down gently and slowly while the eight month old girl continues to snuggle herself against her father. You take in the image of intricate swirls and patterns of ink that extend over his shoulder, flexed bicep as he keeps your daughter secure in his arms, all the way down his forearm and hands. He’s just the prettiest.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he whispers as he bends down ever so little to meet you halfway into a sweet kiss. You reach a hand around his neck and pull yourself towards him as he kisses you, chasing his pretty cherry flavoured pouty lips.

“It’s so good to be back home,” you admit. “How long has she been asleep?” You ask as you run your fingers delicately through her hair.

Jungkook thinks for a moment before telling you it’s only been a couple hours. Jungkook had already fed her and bathed her before he started his stream, so all there is to do now is to put her to bed in her crib.

You exit the gaming room with Jungkook following right behind you. In your bedroom, you place down the wine glasses and you’re quick to sift through your wardrobe to pull out a comfortable outfit to lounge around the house in, one that you hadn’t spent falling asleep in on an aeroplane for hours. Jungkook bends over the wooden structure of the crib and places the baby inside. The latch of the crib is secured once more and the sound of her hanging mobile sounds out a soft melody.

Once dressed, you make your way over to Jungkook who is admiring you from the other side of the room having missed his beautiful wife for a week. With his hair now removed from the hair clips and almost fully covering his glittering eyes, he flashes you that all too familiar, signature pretty smile he has before reaching out for you and enveloping you in his arms.

You jump into his embrace and lock your legs around his waist from behind, cupping his cheeks as you smother each other in kisses, whispering soft greetings and compliments.

“I’m so happy to see you again,” you whisper faintly as you continue to press kiss after kiss after kiss onto his lips. “I’m so lucky to have you as mine,” you finish.

Jungkook smiles as he starts to walk out of the room, reaching for the baby monitor as he keeps you secured in his arms and you reach for the wine from behind him, taking a generous, long overdue sip. Jungkook carries you down the stairs and into the kitchen where he places you down on the kitchen island and closes the gap between the both of you, placing his lips back on yours quickly and much more demanding than the last few times.

He grins at you, a glimmer in his eye and he hums suggestively. “I’m right where you left me darling,” he winks, his accent lacing his words as you listen to him attentively.

After years of being with each other, it never stops getting exciting being with Jungkook. The warmth that was once in your tummy has spread all over, goosebumps now covering your skin. Being in his arms definitely feels like home; a sense of safety and security that you yearn for that only Jungkook can provide you.

Deepening the kiss, you push your tongue past the seam of his lips eagerly and let it tangle with his own. You both smile into the kiss as his grip on your waist tightens, pulling you closer to the edge of the marble island and further into his embrace.

You can’t help but whimper when you break the kiss in favour of leaning into his neck and kissing the skin there. You lick your lips and make sure to leave wet trails as you travel further down towards your desired target. You give the little mole on the side of his neck a sweet peck, over and over, the wet sounds of your mouth leaving his skin fills the space.

A small growl vibrates through Jungkook’s chest, his hold on you becoming slightly tighter as you continue to dote on him. It isn’t long before your kisses turn into soft bites and vigorous sucks, planting cherry shaded blossoms over the mole on his neck.

“_____,— mm, baby, am I not the one that is meant to be taking care of you tonight.. afterall you have just come back?” Jungkook moans.

Jungkook pulls away from you and stands taller to await your answer. Gazing into your eyes, you watch as his own eyes do that pretty thing where it smiles before Jungkook physically smiles. It’s your favourite trait he has.

“And who said that was the case, huh?” You jest with a light and teasing tone before continuing, “you’re taking care of me by letting me kiss my pretty husband. You’re taking care of me by letting me make you feel good.”

The only thing Jungkook can do in response is giggle, a light sanguine blush finding home on the apple of his full cheeks and you can’t help but wrap one of your hands around his neck and the other flat against the taut, hard muscle of his pectoral, caressing the skin back and forth before pulling him back in to chase his lips once more.

The kiss is unhurried, soft and gentle, yet with a hint of hunger for each other as the both of you take your time to enjoy being together once more. You bite Jungkook’s lower lip, drawing a shaky moan out of him as your teeth grazes his bottom lip and then letting it snap back into his smile pleasantly.

You can’t help but peck at the tiny mole under his lip and smile back at him, your silent way of telling him you love him. And then a thought pops into your head, one you know that Jungkook loves that you do.

Drawing Jungkook back in towards you, you press another little kiss to his bottom lip mole before travelling a little further down and kissing on the beauty spot just on top of his chin. You make a scene of it, letting out a loud ‘mwah’ sound as you continue to kiss away.

Moving on, you find the next two moles that are top and bottom of each other close to his ear and bathe them in love and affection just like you had done to the other two previous.

Jungkook loves when you’re soft and delicate with him. It isn’t something he would admit too to his group of friends but being dotted on, being cared for and loved admirably the way you do melts at his heart.

“Baby,” he whines as you tilt your head back slightly to plant a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose, your favourite place to kiss kiss kiss.

His hands slide under the fabric of your sweater, his hands warming your skin up more than the material did. “The last time we started off doing this,” he exaggerates his words by squeezing at your hips and then removing one of them to point towards the ceiling, “that happened,” he grins as fond memories of filthy kitchen antics replays in his mind.

His words ignite something inside of you akin to fireworks as he mentions your sleeping baby currently curled up in her cot. You react by wrapping your dangling legs back around his frame, pushing him further into you by your ankles as you heat up at his words and grin at him playfully.

“And what would be so wrong with that?”

Stunned, Jungkook doesn’t seem to know how to react to your words. It hasn’t been a topic of conversation about having another baby this soon, although you both have agreed that you both want a larger family.

“This soon?”

Now you ponder his words for a split second, already knowing your answer and already knowing that you want to start trying again for another baby as soon as you can. You lean in closer, your lips ghosting his as you close your eyes and breathe in your husband’s natural scent. “Take me to the dining table, koo.”

note2: don’t be a silent reader & leave some feedback in my asks, reblog with a nice comment or even a lil reply saying if you enjoyed — big or small, they go a long way! supporting writers is always important <33

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saerins · 5 months

Text

⋆୨ chapter three ୧˚ for a while, you were all mine

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter two - a million miles away, still you connect me in your way <> next: chapter four - behind a box of reasons why ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 6.3k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, third parties, yn and sae finally sharing one bed | notes: eeep this was long i’m sorry !! more of the other girl here heh ^_< also mwah thank you to all of you who’s reading ily !! <3

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t right of you to go through your husband’s stuff. Maybe you should’ve just looked at that little black box and left it there and continue to be ignorant.

But no. In this world, you’re nosy and greedy and you wanted to know who exactly it is that Itoshi Sae of all people can’t get over and now you have exactly what you were looking for.

After extensive research—and by research you mean scrolling through your husband’s social media (all of them), you managed to find her tagged in a post buried way below on his Facebook wall. Silver lining is: there’s nothing recent. The bad part? Judging by the date, they’ve known each other for a long time.

Apparently her name is Mirin, and her family’s made up of a whole slew of top lawyers in the whole of Japan. There’s not a lot on her Facebook, but her Instagram is a whole other story. Her posts the last few years put her somewhere in Europe, and judging by the content, she’s been studying there for a while. But before that, back when the posts were all in Japan, you catch a few photos of Sae. Some of them have Oliver and Eita, and a couple of other guys you haven’t met before.

It’s really wrong of you to do this, only because you know you’re just setting yourself up for a world of paranoia, but you can’t stop. You move over to the pictures she’s tagged in, and there’s one from Oliver that catches your attention.

Because it’s dated a few weeks back.

The first of two photos show Oliver, Eita, Sae and the same guy you saw back in Mirin’s feed—the one with jet black spiky hair. They’re in a bar, you presume, sitting around a private booth with a ton of alcohol in the ice bucket on the table. You recognise his attire; it’s from the very first night Sae bothered to sit down at the dining table and eat with you.

The second makes your heart crash to the floor. In the photo, in Sae’s place is Mirin herself, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a skin-tight red dress that you wouldn’t ever think of wearing. (One, because it’s much too revealing for your own taste, and two, well, just because you’re more of an oversized t-shirt kind of girl.)

All you can take away from what you saw is that Mirin is now back in Japan. Coupled with the fact that Sae had been gone even though he was off from work for those first few days of your marriage, you deduce what you wish isn’t true—was he meeting up with her all this time? Even

Trying to avoid falling into utter madness, you grab your phone and text your ever-trusty best friend.

Reo, meet you at our usual. ASAP!!!

Just as you’re about to leave the house, Sae gets back from wherever he’s been (which now you can’t help but wonder whether he was meeting Mirin), and you run right into his chest.

“Careful, busy?” Sae asks, which is more than Sae usually does and you realise just how low the bar is set right now.

Still, you answer him like you always do. “Yeah I’m gonna meet Reo for a bit,” you tell him, biting back a snarky comment about Mirin.

Even with those doubts of Sae in your head, you can’t help but stop to appreciate how he hands you your keys from the key hanger before you forget, or how his other hand is gripping onto yours, warm and just slightly calloused. It’s the first time you’ve felt them since that day at your own wedding.

“Take your time, I’ll handle our dinner tonight,” he tells you, and you think that’s already a lot considering that he’s never really bothered with anything the past few weeks, but then you feel a soft sensation against your forehead—very brief, so unfamiliar, way too soft—and then it’s gone in just a second and it’s way too quick that it has you doubting its existence at all.

All you hear is a soft “see you” before the door shuts behind you, and then there’s only the erratic beating of your heart that fills your ears.

“Yikes.”

“Very helpful, thanks,” you sigh exasperatedly as you plop down onto the cushioned seat across from Reo.

Reo laughs, handing you your phone back, open to Oliver’s Instagram account. “Then ask for a divorce, I’m sure he’d happily oblige if all of that’s true.”

“You know why I can’t, Reo,” you remind him, close to giving up.

Reo nods, remembering about your parents and deciding not to make matters worse. “Did you ask him about it though?”

You frown, glaring up at your best friend who’s now happily sipping on his cold brew. “And let him guess that I was stalking his ex? Sure I did.”

Reo snorts at your sarcasm. He thinks it’s funny how you’re oddly meek in front of Sae, and yet you’re snappish around him. Comes with the many years of being best friends, he supposes. But on that note, “you think there’s something going on between them?”

For the first time, Reo sees you helpless, eyes staring into nothing, index finger idly tracing circles on the polished wooden surface. “I don’t know,” because all you know is that you’re already exhausted from overthinking all the things they could be doing behind your back. “But… he’s always away and he says it’s work when I know it’s not. And she’s back and they were at the same place and urgh, I don’t know what to do.”

By that last line, you’re already burying your head in your hands, slumped against the table, Reo watching on as you grumble in frustration. He chuckles, gently patting your head before you look up at him, “what if they’re just friends right now?”

“It’s still weird, isn’t it? I mean… from the looks of it, they were pretty serious at one point.” Your words are all muffled because you’re pretty sure this is you being jealous now—thanks to Sae considerably warming up to you (be it at his own sluggish pace), it’s hard not to feel anything for him. In a way, you’re learning to like a lot about him, but there’s this unshakeable doubt you can’t brush off in the form of his ex.

Reo leans back against his chair now, pondering out loud. “Hmm I wonder what that reminds me of.”

In a second, you know all too well what he’s referring to, and you find yourself unable to look him in the eye. “That’s… different. We didn’t act on it.”

He rests his elbow on the table, head resting against his fist, “yeah but… we were still each other’s first kiss, right?”

“But we didn’t amount to anything.”

“Except that we’re best friends now,” Reo tells you, and you know he’s trying to get a point across but you’re not sure you want to understand it.

“And that’s all we ever were, Reo.”

Smiling, Reo leans forward a little, cautious at keeping his voice down. It won’t do if people misunderstand and word gets around. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but you were all I wanted at one point. For more than just that one day under the cherry blossoms, more than that one time I stole your first kiss.”

It stuns you a little to hear it, because any romantic emotions between the two of you were never said or shared. Both you and Reo knew back then that your parents wouldn’t ever be in favour of him and his rebelliousness that you both just decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. At that time, when you were both foolish kids, having that something intangible was enough. Maybe it faded for you faster than it had for Reo, but he knew that it once existed. Even if only for a second.

“And?”

You’ve gone soft now, and Reo knows you understand. You’re just in denial.

“Are you sure Sae would feel the same if he knew about it? If he knew I used to love you too?” Reo asks you, genuinely wondering for himself.

You’re about to argue that Sae doesn’t even care, but putting yourself into his shoes, you get where Reo’s coming from. History is history. No matter how long ago it was or how short the relationship (or lack of one) was, the feelings still existed, once upon a time.

Still, you have a feeling that there’s more than meets the eye. Especially if Sae has to hide it all the time. He’s never even said her name to you, if they met at all.

“Anyway look, do you want me to try asking Oliver about it? I’ll be discreet, though I can’t really say the same for that knucklehead,” Reo warns you. It’s not like he knows Oliver much outside of any business dealings, but he can tell that much at least.

You shake your head anyway, knowing it’s a bad idea. For all you know, Sae would just lash out at you for prying into his business when you’re just his on-paper wife.

“Wonder why they broke up though,” you think out loud, watching the liquid in your cup swish around, close to spilling off the edge as you swirl it with your hand, almost completely lost in thought.

Reo answers you without missing a beat. “She went abroad to study and just called it off thinking it wouldn’t work.” His eyes go wide the moment your head shoots up, and he winces after letting it slip.

“You knew?”

“Yeah…”

“What the- how?” Because it’s incredulous how Reo happens to know that much more about the relationship.

He sighs, fessing up. “I was asking around about Sae remember? When I told you he’s just a tough nut to—”

“Yeah yeah,” you wave it off, wanting him to get to the point.

“Well, Oliver’s kinda a blabbermouth so…” Reo sighs, as if he senses there’s no point in keeping it in, not when you’re already halfway into that rabbit hole yourself.

And you’re all ears. Half because you really just want to learn more about it and the other half just wanting confirmation that you’re not crazy for overthinking about this. But then Reo tells you and you’re not sure anymore.

“He said Sae was never over her, loved her to bits.” Reo pauses, hesitating before he opens his mouth again. “He said Sae was waiting for her to get back before starting things up again.”

Oh.

SEVEN YEARS AGO.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

Surely it wasn’t a stretch to be furious that distance would be enough of a reason for a breakup? Surely Sae didn’t have to think himself crazy for refuting such an idea?

Mirin’s hair flowed in the wind, pretty as it always was, and it would be even prettier in his memories. She looked unsure, and he knew it too. He knew her like the back of his hand, down to the injury on his ankle. She was only doing what she thought was right, and that was offering each of their own freedom, though Sae had no single doubt in his mind that that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Sae, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” she told him, her eyes swimming with tears that she wouldn’t allow to overflow.

Always so stubborn, and forever thinking less of herself. That was how he knew her to be. And as much as he hated that stubbornness at that moment, he loved her just as much.

With a hand reaching out to her, he pulled her to him, letting her rest her head in his chest, something that he savoured because it wouldn’t be long until she’ll be gone for who knows how long.

“Is it selfish of me to say I don’t want to break up with you?” Sae was asking her, genuinely. He didn’t know how to handle this—when life held different paths for two people in love, wasn’t it just common sense that they could still tread it and yet be together? Was long distance really the end of everything they had?

Mirin sniffled just a little before she pulled away and forced herself to smile, something that Sae hated. It was always the fake ones that irked him, even now.

“Is it selfish for me to think that we’re supposed to?”

Maybe he didn’t know the answer. But all he knew was that if she still felt like they should, then he’d concede. He was always weak when it came to her. It was always the same. He couldn’t imagine being weak to anyone else. It was her. Only her.

“Fine, we’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he told her, a tone so gentle that no one but her has ever heard. But he drew close, tipping her chin up so she would look at him, his teal eyes appreciating every inch of her beautiful face, the most beautiful one he had ever seen, and the most beautiful one he thought he would ever see. “But you know something?”

Mirin swallowed the lump in her throat, the amount of love she felt threatening to swallow her whole. “What?”

Sae let out a deep chuckle, a soft one before he pressed his lips against hers, a promise laid between their lips like it was a secret only they both would keep.

“Nothing would stop me from waiting for you to come back. So come back to me, okay? Come back, I’ll wait for you.”

That night when you get home, you feel just slightly numb. After hearing what you did, it’s no surprise. You’ve always been kind of weak when it comes to feelings. You’re more heart over mind and you’d choose your heart over and over again even if you had no more blood left to bleed.

You think you’re never getting over it until you walk in and realise that Sae’s in the kitchen, setting your dinner down on the table. It’s like your tears automatically dissipate once you look into his eyes.

“Oh, just nice,” is all he mumbles before he sits down at his place on the entirely too-big dining table for the two of you.

Across from him, you sit down as you look at the spread before you. A steak on each of your plates, potato puree at the side. In the middle there’s assorted sides of mushrooms, corn kernels and what you assume to be a tray of sauces for the meat.

“Did you cook all of these?” You ask, almost breathless. You’re about to say he’s a much better cook than you are, until Sae speaks up.

“No.” He seems nearly unwilling to answer you, a delicate frown on his face. “Accidentally burnt the pans when I tried to cook.”

“Huh?” You spin your head around to find the sink filled with all your pans, and from the looks of it, Sae had been trying to scrub the burnt portions off unsuccessfully.

“We need to buy new pans.”

Sae says this all too monotonously, like he’s half-robot and half completely embarrassed, that you can’t help but laugh out loud. Besides, it’s kind of cute that there’s a faint pink on his cheeks. You’ve never seen that before.

He looks at you incredulously, like he wasn’t expecting you to laugh at him like he’s a damn clown. Flinging a mushroom at you with his fork, he rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he groans.

Pouting at him mockingly, you decide to tease him a little more. “You didn’t touch anything else in the house and ruin them, did you?”

And you were joking, until you realise Sae’s averting his gaze, stuffing his mouth full with corn kernels.

“Sae!”

“We might need to get new stuff for the laundry room too,” he confesses, talking with his mouth full. (Spoiler: you find out later that he put the wrong detergents in the washer and accidentally flooded the laundry room.)

Still, you think it’s sort of endearing that he tried to do the chores while you were the one out for a change, so you stop yourself from making fun of him too much. It’s not like whatever you learned earlier isn’t still sitting in the back of your head (because a part of you wonders if he’s doing all this out of guilt), but some part of you wants to be selfish and let yourself feel special, even if it’s delusional, at least for a little bit.

You want to feel like the wife he misses when you’re not around, like the person he would think of when his mind strays. Is this all too much to ask?

Maybe you just can’t help yourself, so you bring yourself to ask: “Sae, why did you agree to this?”

There’s a pregnant pause in the room, the only sounds filling the silence being the stainless steel cutlery hitting the plates as Sae adjusts himself. “Why did you?”

You suppose that maybe it’ll be easier for him to share if you start first, so you bite the bait. “Long story but… if I don’t then it’ll fall to my sister and she’s happy with someone else.” You swallow the meat in your mouth, the fat rendered so well it makes you crave for more. “I don’t want her to have to sacrifice that. Our parents aren’t exactly the nicest people in the world.”

Sae listens to you, an understanding settling in his chest. He could laugh from the coincidence of it all. “Same, but for my brother,” he tells you, prodding at his steak. “And he’s happy with soccer, not some girl. Can’t get a girl to save his life.”

Somehow, you can hear the quiet fondness that he has for Rin that makes you believe he’s a good brother.

“Would a marriage affect his career all that much?”

There’s a certain complexity behind Sae’s expression when you ask that question, something that you can’t decipher. But he scoffs, “let’s just say, my parents aren’t the nicest people either. I would know.”

And something tells you that it’s not something you want to ask yet, so you let his answer sit with you.

“Oh, speaking of parents,” Sae brings up his phone, switching the subject and handing it over to you. It’s a string of texts between him and his mother, apparently. You hold it up to your face, reading through and it appears they’d gotten you both tickets. “Mine got us both tickets, so.”

As you scroll, a grin appears on your face as you look at him. “Honeymoon tickets to Korea?” You’re almost squealing. It’s been a long while since you’ve last had a vacation, and ten days of distraction sounds really nice after all the information you’d just learned today.

Sae rolls his eyes, though you don’t miss the slight tug upwards at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, so get packing, we leave in two days.”

And as excited as you are, you feel a vibration and the brief flash of ‘dummy’ messaging him, the only part of the preview that you can see being: no, take me with you :(

You’re pretty sure it vibrates some more but by then, you’re already handing the phone back and Sae just locks his phone without bothering. Shaking your head, you try to stuff that image back to the deepest crevices of your mind, determined to not let it ruin your mood for your getaway.

Ex lover or not, Sae is still your husband and it’s not like he hates this (by the looks of things, it’s only been getting better and better), so you’re still hell bent on making things work.

Two days fly by way too quickly.

The day after Sae tells you about the trip, you immediately get to work at packing. Ten days is not a short trip and you plan to make full use of it, and for that, you have to be ready.

You had spent the whole day buying anything you would need—travel-friendly items and whatnot—while commuting back home to your parents’ house (at a timing you know they’re at work, of course!) to take anything you might’ve left there that you needed. Just as you left the house, nostalgia took over as you looked around at the place where you grew up.

It’s strange. People say to cherish what time you have with your parents, that one day you’re going to move out and you’re going to miss it.

You don’t feel like that’s necessarily true, because you’re living proof. The only thing you’d miss is your sister and you still talk to her everyday. Meanwhile, the only times your mother or father ever talks to you is to ask you about your marriage and warning you not to annoy Sae too much, as though it was a given and that it shouldn’t be the other way around.

Maybe it doesn’t make much sense; you and Sae (or maybe just you) trying to be a family when you both have no idea what a proper family is like. Even if it is just on paper.

Now you’re on a town car to the airport and you’re fiddling with your passport in your hands, staring out the window like a little child that’s going overseas for the first time. (Next to you, Sae’s thinking the exact same thing—you do look so much like an excited child. Or maybe a puppy.)

Of course, Sae’s parents waste no expenses in gifting you two first-class seats. Not that you’ve never been in first class, but it’s nice to be next to Sae, and you catch yourself, realising just how quickly you’re catching feelings.

“What?” Sae’s just getting ready to turn his phone to flight-safe mode when he catches you staring, a hint of smugness forming inside of him.

Even with a small partition separating your seats, you can see his teal eyes staring at you, long lashes fluttering in all its glory. Instead of offering an answer, you just shake your head and lean back, busying yourself by adjusting the screen in front of you.

Being in a state of denial is easy; it’s actually fun to sit in first class next to Sae, on a three-hour flight to your honeymoon, annoying him each chance you get, earning yourself a death stare every instant before laughing yourself silly when he flips off at you. It’s been a few weeks, but you think you’ve grown accustomed to what Sae is like that you know his middle fingers to you are never meant to be taken seriously and his silence is just how he is when he isn’t fully opened up. It nearly makes you think you’re crazy for doubting him and yet you don’t have the balls to question him about any of that. Not yet, because you’re not ready for this to end (if it will).

The itinerary had already been planned out by Sae’s mother, but it wasn’t like either of you wanted to follow it. One, Sae likes to do things spontaneously anyway and two, well, you have a feeling that he might want to treat this like a solo trip. It’s not like either of you have properly been husband and wife much to have a proper honeymoon together.

So count you surprised when you suggested that you both try to do solo trips around the city and just meet up for dinner, only to have Sae agree and yet follow you wherever you decide to go that first day.

At first, you were just wondering whether he had the same plans, but after he followed you into a Sephora looking absolutely clueless and then getting all flustered and sticking to you the moment the staff there asked him if he wanted to do a skin test, you allow yourself to think that he’s actually tagging along with you.

“What are you doing?” You decide to ask after exiting another store, carrying no less than five bags thanks to your anxiety of asking Sae what he’s up to.

On his part, he merely shrugs and looks away, hands in his coat pocket, looking absolutely like a model out of a magazine. Sometimes you wonder if he’s really yours. On paper, at least.

“This is our honeymoon, right? Makes sense that we’re together.” That’s all the explanation Sae offers, his gaze hovering over the bags you’re carrying, before he leans closer. “Besides, you’re my wife,” he says, gently grabbing your bags and carrying it for you.

He doesn’t say that it’s just on paper this time. And you can’t help but read into it. It’s perplexing how easily his words can affect you. It has your heart doing somersaults and your lips nervously pursing together.

“So, where next?” He prompts, looking at you expectantly.

And maybe you’re a little too excited for this pleasant turn of events that you’re grinning from ear to ear as you stare at him. “Wait, really?”

You can’t even hide the glee in your voice and Sae, for the first time, smiles—even if he’s doing it as he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yes, stupid,” he tells you, chuckling as you hop slightly in excited. “Are we going or are you just gonna stand here like a little puppy?”

With excited nods and a little squeal, you clap your hands together before daring to put your fingers around his wrist, dragging him with you.

Sae follows quietly behind you, staring at you as you happily tread ahead, your hands warm and guarding his against the slightly chilly air, hair flowing in the wind and he suddenly thinks you’re even prettier than he first thought you were. And then he starts thinking that maybe this part of his life that’s planned by his parents isn’t so bad after all.

Though, when you get back to the hotel, you find out that Sae has already specially asked for two separate beds, to the surprise of all the hotel staff, because of course, Mrs Itoshi had booked the honeymoon suite for the both of you. Special requests for that room usually mean flowers on the bed, or breakfast just the way they like it—not for the groom of all people to be asking for a separate bed altogether, especially when he insists there is no additional person.

“I’ll sleep out here,” Sae tells you the moment you get back to the hotel that night, gesturing to the bed set up by the television, much to your bummer. But you suppose you can’t expect too much—hand holding was already a miracle in itself.

“Oh yeah, sure,” you shrug it off, like it doesn’t even matter. Deep down you feel like a rock was dropped from your throat to the bottom of your stomach, forming a gaping hole in your heart along the way that you tried to will into non-existence.

Still, somehow, despite this little obstacle, you find yourself optimistic after being witness to Sae’s change in demeanour.

“Hey, Y/N?”

When you turn around, you see a hint of hesitation flicker across his teal eyes before he shakes his head, brushing it off.

“It’s nothing, goodnight.”

Although you’re curious, you decide not to press him about it. Offering a small smile, you nod.

“Goodnight, Sae.”

Over the course of your entire honeymoon, you find that you shouldn’t be chiding yourself for being delusional in the first place.

For once in this one-sided love affair, you feel like perhaps it’s not so one-sided at all. Because from what you’ve learned about Sae in your close-to-minimal time together, he isn’t someone that you can force into doing anything he doesn’t want to. At least when it comes to mundane activities which includes trips. (Unless you’re his parents who you have no doubt in your mind probably mirrors your own and have their ways of controlling him, per se.)

But it’s hard to think he doesn’t want to do any of this with you when he’s so compliant. He follows your bucket list of things to do and doesn’t complain once. He lets you drag him to the palace and looks only slightly concerned when you tell him you want to “do the thing where we can dress up like royalty and take pictures” but he only sighs and concedes within seconds.

When he comes out of the room looking like the most handsome prince you’d ever met, you’re too shy to meet his gaze but he tilts your head up to look at him for most of the shots anyway. With his face so close to yours, with these kinds of small gestures which he willingly initiates, you begin to wonder if it’s possible to make him happy in this possibly loveless marriage.

Spending ten days together, surrounded by just each other and doing things that couples do; it nearly makes you feel as if this is real. Like Sae really loves you and that he had asked you to marry him one day out of the blue because of it. Nothing like how you felt that first time you met him, in your dressing room minutes before you were about to become husband and wife, being talked down to and told that this was a facade and could be nothing more.

Now he’s here with you, sticking close and following you around, entertaining your requests for activities, falling asleep on your shoulder when you were on the plane to Jeju, and sometimes he absentmindedly holds your hand like he’s used to it. He helps you with your luggage always, and he makes sure you get food whenever your stomach starts growling, and he’s more observant than you give him credit for because he starts picking the radish off your plate without you asking.

Your album’s suddenly filled with pictures of you and Sae and you were hesitant at first but dragging him to the amusement park when he wasn’t for it at first was a good decision; for a while, you get to see what he’s like when all the downturned lines on his face reverse, when he looks the most like an actual guy in his mid-twenties, enjoying life instead of brooding all the time. Thanks to that, your pictures are more both of you smiling or being goofy together instead of faceless pictures because neither of you feel like showing your faces at all.

By the time your honeymoon is about to come to an end, you find that maybe there’s hope for this after all. That maybe you’d just been overthinking everything prior to this and it shouldn’t be worth worrying over after the trip ends.

But you find that hope can be flimsy sometimes.

On the seventh night there, you and Sae are both on your bed, in the actual bedroom, fighting (not literally) over a multiplayer game. Just two adults hunched over one phone playing frustrating games meant for kids. (Somehow it makes you feel like perhaps neither of you ever had a normal childhood and this is something to make up for it.) It’s all fun and games until you see a throng of message notifications from dummy mixed in with several from what you presume to be Sae’s group chat with the guys.

And you can keep pretending like it doesn’t matter, except Sae immediately stops after the current round and tells you he has to take a call. And you already know more or less who he’s going to talk to. And just like that, you feel like you’re back to square one all over again.

The subsequent nights (and days) aren’t easy for you either. After just giving up on thinking and forcing yourself to sleep that night, you’d been stuck with paranoia everyday. Especially when you realise that he’s starting to take calls every night outside on the balcony where he’s sure you’re out of earshot.

You wonder if he’s being lovey dovey with her outside when he talks to her. You wonder if he imagines you as her when you’re out together. You wonder if he wishes you were her. You wonder if all this is just a gimmick; a test run for when he does the actual things with the actual girl he wants to do them with.

Safe to say, by your last night there, you’re a mess. The moment you get back from trying to be happy all day (which was a disaster because you wouldn’t stop trying to minimise contact with Sae), you tell him you’re too tired and that you’ll just go ahead and go to bed.

Which, of course, is code for ‘you just want to lie in bed and cry all night’.

Sae couldn’t even get a word out before you shut the door on him, plopping down onto the bed and crying into your pillow. Maybe holding everything in was a bad idea. Now you’re bursting with emotions and you try to call Reo a few minutes later but you can’t even get him because he’s busy somehow and you’re positive that the gods hate you right now.

There is one thing about being on rock bottom that you like, though; at least you know how you feel. You’re exhausted and upset and envious because you wish you could be that person for your husband. But you keep getting reminded that you’re not. That somehow you’re just a mere stand-in until he marries his real wife next time. The one he promised to love forever. (Technically, he vowed that to you on your wedding day too, but that’s not the same and you know it.)

Deciding to shut off your phone and have this time to yourself to cry your eyes out, you miss the sudden swarm of notifications that come in. And thanks to you stuffing your head into the pillow, you don’t notice Sae opening the door and peeking inside, an unfamiliar feeling settling inside him at the sound of you sobbing.

He gently closes the door behind him as he walks to you, your back turned to him, your hands and feet hanging onto the bolster like a koala to a branch. Slowly, he saunters over to you, almost like he’s afraid to. When his hand rests on your shoulder and he sinks into the mattress beside you, you stiffen up for just a moment before spinning around and sobbing into his chest instead.

You didn’t expect him to even enter your room at all, much less let you stain his shirt or hold you close when you’re being emotional like this, but he stays there, hand gently rubbing your arm, up and down, a gentle kiss placed on the top of your head. It makes you wonder what kind of games he’s playing. Is this Sae not being able to make up his mind and that’s why he’s still so nice to you even when he has his old flame in the back of his head?

“Do you… want me to leave you alone?” He asks, though you can argue it’s kind of a stupid question but then you realise he probably doesn’t know much about actual relationships so you let it slide.

You shake your head in response, deciding that as stupid as it all sounds, you want to throw your hat in the ring. You’ve fallen for him, and you want him for yourself.

And maybe it’s wrong of you to project this on him, but your absence of a normal family where a home is not just a house and where parents shower their children with actual love and concern makes you yearn for one yourself. And maybe it’s not a great idea to want that from a man you married from being forced to, but thanks to this honeymoon you can see that there’s a flicker of spark there.

That Sae’s not emotionless and he’s definitely not cold to you. Not anymore. That if you guys had been given more time instead of being rushed into things by your parents then maybe the whole wedding could’ve gone without any of the hitches you experienced. That every single radish he picked off your plate, every picture he took with you, every time he held your hand, every time he pulled you close—none of that was manufactured, was it?

So isn’t it possible for you to be happy with him? So is it still foolish or selfish of you to want to be with him?

Is it too much if you ask him about it?

“Hey, Sae?” Your voice is soft and timid and more vulnerable than you’ve ever shown, but he hears you loud and clear, his “hm?” resounding against his chest, right next to your ear. “Can you stay?”

A few seconds of pause, and he replies, “of course.”

You shake your head slightly. “I don’t mean that. I mean, you know, what we said on our wedding day.” Your voice is entirely muffled, still Sae understands.

There’s an even longer pause this time, and you think that Sae’s just thinking of a way to get out of this until you hear him speak up again.

“Idiot,” he chides, but you can hear the soft affection in his voice. Suddenly, you feel his pinky wrapping around your own, and he holds it near your face. “I promise you,” he whispers, and you wish you could see the expression on his face, “I’ll stay.”

It might be wishful thinking but you think he really means it.

taglist: @kimvmarvel @mxplesyrvp @yuzurins @futuristicxie @kiopanxp @k0z3me @y-sabell-a @sae1toshilover @xoxojisu @karmatiz @sagejin @minnieminnie00-got7 @hearts4heidi @shiinobu-x @n1uh @prepchuu @leeyzhuo @shidouryusm @tsukishiro-yue2402 @kaiserkisser @pookiebearcave @dcvilxswish @saeskiss @whtflrr @arminseas @raphsimp @saharei @danibxe @lectris00 @comet-kun @ishitam67 @gskill @sweet2wthsblog *bolded: can’t tag you due to your settings >_<

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #sae x you #itoshi sae x you #sae x y/n #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae #blue lock #૪ aeri’s fics !

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rassvetsky · 1 year

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Loverboy

jake "hangman" seresin x fem!reader

"Jakey, just have fun for me," your whine brought out a lovesick smile on his lips. "You can't call me every fifteen minutes and actually expect to enjoy your night out."

[1.1k] | incredibly lovesick jake seresin alert, idk what this is im not even sober, am i ever not drunk, anyway alcohol consumption, javy's bromance w/ jake, just fluff actually he's so cute i'm forever gonna stick up for the loverboy jake agenda

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

With his back against the outer wall of the bar, Jake couldn't contain the smile on his lips while tapping away on his phone to find your name.

He had no idea how and when it happened exactly, this excruciating amount of pull that you had on him— which had him twirling his imaginary long hair and kicking his feet often after any moment spent with you or as a very natural response to a very casual text you sent, when nobody was around to see.

He was happy to be living up to the nickname you gave him long ago, when that too-good-to-be-true exterior cracked and cracked until he finally revealed his true nature; a loverboy.

Your line dialed for the fifth time as he held his phone up to his ear, the music still pretty much hearable even through the wall. Javy was inside waiting for him, and honestly was quite surprised that Jake would down the rest of his second drink and walk out right away because "I gotta tell my girl about this, she's gonna laugh so hard" but it was the new normal for a long while now, wasn't it?

You finally picked up, a bit later than usual since you said that you'd just be at home— catching up with work and stuff which Jake didn't really listen to the details of, and you couldn't exactly blame him for that. "Hello?"

"Hey, babe." his giddy tone could be felt through the line. "Jus' wanted to check up on you. What are you doing?"

"Ah," you chuckled. "Still working, honey. Same as you left me."

All you could hear was a hum of understanding before he released a deep sigh, leaning further on the wall. "Wish you were here with me, honestly. Javy's such a fucking idiot— can't wait to tell you all 'bout it."

"Jakey, just have fun for me," your whine brought out a lovesick smile on his lips. "You can't call me every fifteen minutes and actually expect to enjoy your night out."

"But I enjoy things a lot more when you're doing it with me."

"Machado's gonna hate me if you keep this shit up, y'know that?" he recognized your teasing tone immediately, huffing out a snicker. "He's still hurt that you wouldn't spend 'Bromance Day' with him."

"Well, his 'Bromance Day' just so happened to be February fourteenth, he should've managed his expectations. I was free on the thirteenth. Not the fifteenth because my girlfriend is an insatiable little—"

"Hey, shut it," you laughed, and he knew you well enough to know that you were shaking your head now, even if he couldn't see. "You should stop grumbling about one of the few people that actually endures your annoying ass, work on your time management and get back to the bar, alright?"

"Right," he took a deep breath again, not even aware that he was holding it— perhaps he was afraid of missing even the tiniest details of your voice, unhappy with the lack of justice the static of the line did to it. "I'm gonna wreck that dart board for you, baby."

When Jake came back home that night, a little bit later than he said he would, but in his defense, you did tell him to have fun. Probably reeking of alcohol and sweat, he figured in his tipsy state that you must be asleep by now, and made sure to be extra quiet while shuffling out of his jacket and setting his keys down by the shoe rack. He tiptoed his way over to the bathroom then, and ran himself a cold shower— mostly to get rid of the scent, and to perhaps go to bed with a clearer head but he was sloppy nonetheless, and a shower without singing wasn't really a good shower.

He still sang some of his favorite songs very quietly though.

But when he walked into your shared room with a warm robe around his body, he didn't expect you to… not be there. It was late. You sure would've left what you were doing to run to his side the second he came back if you were awake, right?

Looking around the room in confusion as if you'd magically appear from behind the curtain and scare him shitless, he took a sharp breath and walked towards the small study you had— a comfortable, quiet space to work on stuff or to just think, and his prediction proved itself to be right because you were right there, arms crossed on top of the desk with your head resting on them, eyes closed, computer still open with whatever you were busy with doing on the screen.

God, he was smiling like an idiot.

"My busy bee…" he whispered to himself, before carefully approaching your desk— making sure to save all your work before putting the computer on sleep mode just in case. With one arm leaning against the desk, he then looked down at your sleeping figure, looking so content despite the awkward position— and he couldn't help the quiet chuckle that left his lips. "Should I wake you or potentially startle you while trying to carry you to bed?"

You didn't even stir.

"You're gonna be the death of me one day." he complained, but tried out a couple of different arm positions that he could potentially use to carry you— with no luck. That's when you finally let out a yawn though, mumbling out his name before slowly pushing yourself off the desk. "I'm sorry— I couldn't figure out how to pick you up. It's easier when you're on the couch—" but then you just wrapped your arms around his neck, getting in a better position for him to pick you up.

Too sleepy to do anything else. Jake felt his heart doing Olympic backflips.

With a secure grip by your waist and the back of your knees, he carefully picked you up from where you were seated, smiling to himself when he felt your lips by his neck, and then a tired murmur. "M'sorry. Wanted to stay awake for you but— work's boring."

He chuckled at that, a soft noise that brought a smile to your lips when your back finally met the cold mattress. "You should've just gone to bed, sweetheart. Your back will kill you if you keep that up."

"It's fine," you replied, only then opening your eyes to see him sitting by the edge of the bed, his warm palm covering your knee with a compassionate smile on his lips. "Bed's cold. You gotta warm me up or else I might actually die—"

"God, such a baby," his tease was followed by a chuckle as he slightly pushed you over to get to his side, quickly wrapping the both of you with a blanket before undoing the belt of his robe, just so the knot wouldn't bother you when he pulled you closer to his chest. "Go right back to sleep, honey. I got you."

And you were content on doing exactly what he told you to do, except, he didn't do the same— but instead, decided to take a good look at your serene expression and sigh to himself, nothing but whispers leaving his lips as he admired you. "I love you so bad, it's not even funny anymore."

a/n: guess which songs jake were singing in the shower. my playlist is very dry lately and im going to steal your guesses shamelessly and then remember you fondly 3 years later when i stumble upon that song again and then we're gonna fall in love and—

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick hangman #top gun hangman #hangman x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you

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delirious-donna · 3 months

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For You [Hanma Shuji]

an: Pure self-indulgence as I've been sick the past few days and I'll use any excuse to continue my soft Shuji agenda...

pairing: Hanma Shuji x female reader

warnings: fluff, self-ship coded, reader has longish hair with a similar texture to Shuji’s, fluff, bit of a sick fic I guess, domesticity, soft shuji, suggestive if you squint, did I mention the fluff?

He didn’t know what to do. That much was evident from the white noise tumbling inside his head and the empty stare that roamed your apartment. Everything was as it should be, and at the same time, nothing was right.

Shuji hadn’t heard a peep from you in almost two days, and that was unheard of before now. He appreciated that you were not overtly clingy. You didn’t need to know his exact whereabouts at any given moment of the day, but you checked in now and then, and for the first time in his life, he looked forward to those moments. So when you went radio silent except for one cursory message in reply to his attempt at humour that you were ghosting him, worry settled heavily.

The smell was apparent the second he let himself in with the spare key you had gifted him months ago. Until now, he hadn’t had reason to use it, but there was no way he would allow another day to pass without knowing what was going on. Sickness–sweet and sour–lingered in the nose, an unmistakable smell.

What he found huddled in a nest of twisted blankets tugged at a heart he had not long grown to realise existed. A mass of tangled hair obscured most of your sleeping face, though he doesn’t miss the scrunched expression etched across your features. Your skin that peeks from beneath your adorable kitty pyjamas was covered in a sheen of sweat, and he could feel the heat radiating from your body when he closed the distance in two quick strides.

You’re sick.

The rasp of your breathing indicated something was sitting on your chest, likely a bad cold or some infection, and he doesn’t know what to do with this newfound information. Turning, he raised his glasses atop his head to pass a weary palm down his face.

Cuts, scrapes and bruises are things he can deal with. He is well accustomed to peroxide on rags to clean wounds and disinfect any dirt that might linger inside split knuckles. A raw steak slapped over a swollen eye might be considered a bit of a health hazard these days, but he still swore that nothing reduced the swelling faster. Hell, Shuji was even a dab hand with a needle and thread. He had lost count with how many of his exclusively short list of friends he had patched up to avoid the inevitable hospital questions over the years. He had even sewn himself up from time to time.

Hell, he needed to act. Standing here doing nothing was beginning to sizzle his blood.

You woke from being jostled, the haze of your fever dream preventing the usual fight or flight instinct from kicking in. Craning your neck, you blinked and scrubbed at your eyes. There was no way you were looking up at your boyfriend. No way that he had you cradled in his arms in the most delicate hold you had ever experienced.

“Shuji?”

“Yeah, princess, it’s me. Need you to sit here f’me, alright?” He rasped, voice affected by some emotion you couldn’t quite place.

Cool porcelain met your backside, your body guided upright until you could manage your equilibrium. Hanma Shuji was here, in your apartment, in your bathroom. Rummaging through your medicine cabinet and looking for god knows what.

A bath. He could at least run you a warm bath and rid you of the smell of sweat and sickness from your pretty skin. Methodically, he worked to fill the tub and added a few splashes of some scented shit that smelled familiar from your cabinet. Shuji dutifully peeled the pyjamas and underwear from your body and threw them in the hamper with a mind to run a load for you if he remembered.

Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe your twisted fever-induced dreams had shifted away from the nauseatingly vibrant images you had experienced only a few hours ago to this muted peaceful scene. It was a nice thought, but no, this was reality and not one you ever thought you’d experience.

A hand from behind your head came into view, a hand you knew immediately, not just by the stark black kanji inked against golden skin but the length of his slender fingers and the slight yellowish stain from the cigarettes he smoked. He handed you a soapy washcloth, which you gratefully accepted, wiping it across your body and sluffing off the grim that had caked you over the course of the last few days.

It was heaven, pure and simple, and when you thought it couldn’t get any better, Shuji surprised you once more. He gently tilted your head back, your eyes met his, and you smiled in adoration at the concentration evident on his face seconds before he began wetting your hair with the jug you kept on the edge of the bath.

“You don’t have to… Shu, I can take care of my hair once I’m better.”

Shuji clicked his tongue against his teeth in admonishment, but he held back from scolding you further for not trusting him with this small task. He washed his own damn hair, so washing yours wasn’t going to be some impossible task. His fingers worked in the suds of your shampoo into a thick lather, digging deep against your scalp and massaging firmly enough to elicit moans of bliss.

Normally such noises would make him hard, but right now it only raised a genuine smile. This was possibly one of the most intimate things he had ever done for you. Never mind all those times he had rearranged your insides or made slow, passionate love to you. No, this was on a whole other level, and he liked it–more than he ever believed he would.

You must have dozed off whilst he shampooed and conditioned your hair because the next thing you were aware of was being lifted from the bath and wrapped in a thick fluffy towel that draped past your toes. Shuji returned you to your bedroom but paused in where to deposit you, his nose wrinkled in distaste at the mess of sheets that most definitely needed to be washed and changed. Eventually, he planted your feet on the plush rug by the bottom of your bed, one which his knees were intimately familiar with and helped towel dry your body from head to foot.

“Put these on, baby. Imma strip your bed, do you have another set?” He asked with a kiss to your temple, handing you a clean set of yellow pyjamas with little ducks covering them from your dresser drawer.

Nodding sleepily, you pointed to the wicker storage box in the far corner before stepping into the pj pants and clumsily covering yourself with the top that bagged just enough that you could truthfully forgo the pants if you wanted.

You watched in amusement as the man known far and wide as both a talented photographer and sometimes enforcer for certain well-connected friends changed your bedding. His tall frame made it easy for him to manipulate the fitted sheet into place and wrangle a clean duvet cover on your kingsize duvet. This shitty task would have taken you nearly half an hour by yourself, but he managed in only ten.

“Need to dry my hair,” you yawned, leaning your face on his bicep and gratefully folding into his body when his arm snaked around your waist. He looked lost again, and you took pity on him. This kind of care was not his forte, but he didn’t know that all of this meant more to you than you could verbalise in your current state.

“I’ll wait for you in the living room. Take your time, alright?” With a final kiss to your forehead, he rounded the door of your bedroom and was gone from sight.

Shuji tried to sit still whilst the sound of your hairdryer filled his ears, but he was never one to sit idly by. He thought back on the times he had been sick as a kid with no one to really care for him and the things he would have wished for. In truth, a hot bath, clean clothes and a full stomach were all he ever wanted.

He was no cook, but he got by. A can of chicken soup caught his attention as he scanned your cupboards and set about warming it up on the stovetop. Your bread was still fresh, and he found butter in the fridge. He could do this. He could be the caring boyfriend when he wanted and though he had never felt inclined before, you were different.

You didn’t blow up his phone looking for sympathy or attention–no–you had tried to tough it out much like he had growing up, and it further sparked the flicker of kindred spirit that he felt about you. He wanted to protect you. There was no sense of obligation, and that made the difference. You were the first person he had loved outside of himself, and you reciprocated unconditionally.

You took the man he was, the boy he had been and loved every part of him, flaws and all. Shuji could do the same for you, and he vowed that the next time one of you fell sick, you’d be living together and there would be no need to guess that something was wrong.

So engrossed in sentimental thoughts that were still rather foreign to him, Shuji didn’t notice the hairdryer cut off nor the sound of your bare feet padding in search of him. It wasn’t until two small arms wound around his waist that he noticed or acknowledged your presence at all.

“What did I do to deserve you, Hanma Shuji?” You sobbed wetly into the shirt covering his back. Your emotions were overwhelming you, head still stuffy from whatever sickness had beat your ass the past few days, coupled with the domesticity of watching him cook for you. Tears streaked towards your cheeks, and you smushed your face deeper into him in an attempt to halt the flow.

He chuckled whilst continuing to stir the soup. “I know a lot of people that would say you must have been real bad in a past life to have ended up with me as a boyfriend.”

You sniffled and mustered every ounce of strength–barely anything–to smack him for that comment. “Shut up, you ass. Don’t spoil it.”

Shuji turned slowly. The amused expression softening in the face of your soppy, pathetic face that he couldn’t possibly adore any more, and he raised a hand to thumb away your tears. Enfolding you fully into his arms, he cooed softly against your freshly dried hair and smiled at the scent that was uniquely you had returned to your skin.

“I want you to know that I would do anything for you. Not only would I rip apart this entire fucking world if someone dared hurt you.” He enthused before his tone softened with a quiet exhale as if he were about to whisper some unspoken secret. “But I’ll also bathe you when you need the help, and I’ll feed you when you’re hungry. For you, there is nothing too much.”

#delirious writes #hanma x reader #shuji x reader #hanma shuji x reader #hanma fluff #shuji fluff #soft shuji

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leiswxrld · 10 months

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𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄

𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒… “Don’t run away this is what you wanted…right”

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Street racer!Tom Kaulitz x Street racer!black fem reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Smut, p in v sex, riding, missionary, public sex in a car, enemies to lovers trope, Tom low-key misogynistic, no condom, Tom is 18+, inspired by Tokyo drift.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3691 Words

𝐀/𝐍: please make suggestions on what I should write next low-key running out of ideas and dw sub!bill one shot has not been forgotten, writing it soon. Also listen to the slowed and reverb version so much better.

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You were number one street racer in all of California and the first woman to win a race against all men which deemed you the name ‘the queen of street racing’ and since then you hadn’t lost a race until he came along.

You were crouched in front of your car cleaning the exterior of your customised purple Nissan 350-Z, making sure to wash off the dirt from your last race. The soapy suds splattered all over your black dungaree as you wiped the sweat that formed across your forehead, the noises from your boombox echoed in your garage as tap in by saweetie played through as you bounced to the beat, muttering the lyrics under your breath.

You grabbed the mechanical creeper at your side and rolled under your car making a few adjustments and changing the oil filter before coming back up covered in muck and oil. The sudden ring of your phone was heard as you go to grab it, pressing the green illuminated button, “Hello”

“Yo Y/N got a race for you tonight you able to make it for today”

You contiplated your choices, hand gravitating to your hips. You really could use the money, “how much”

“About 1000 grand if you win this race”

“Alright I’ll be there in an hour”

“Ight bet see you there”

You hang up and decided the first thing on the agenda was to take a shower. You get dressed into the casual outfit you normally wore, a short purple skirt and a crop top, matched with long boots and a pair of earrings and necklace to go with. If you were going to race you were going to make sure you looked good doing it.

Sliding into the drivers side, you pushed the keys into the ignition and the engine came to life with a roar and you grinned in excitement as you turned on the radio connecting your phone to it as Shut up and drive by Rihanna blasted through the speakers. You revved the engine, the exhausts making popping sounds every time you pressed you foot on the pedal. You had exactly 10 mins to get there and you were guaranteed you were going to make it.

You took off, zooming down the streets of LA California with the windows rolled down as the midnight breeze hit your skin sending goosebumps throughout. Your hands controlled the steering wheel, making direct and quick turns towards the race. The familiar neon lights came into view as you saw the different drivers parked up in lanes over at the track, you park next to the familiar driver you knew as Devante who looked smug as usual, you wouldn’t consider him a friend or fiend but someone you could tolerate.

Stepping outside the vehicle, Devante doesn’t miss the chance to make his advances towards you letting out a whistle as you throw him the middle finger, “if it isn’t Y/N what are you doing here shouldn’t you be in the kitchen or something”

“Very fucking funny Devante the only person that will be in the kitchen will be you when I beat you in the race” you snidely reply, flicking your hair behind your back. He chuckles leaning against the side of his car as he seemed to eye you up more than usual, “We will see bout’ that Y/N when you’ll be the one making me a sandwich”

You ignore his dumb comment and your eyes linger to unfamiliar face down the far right with the black car which seemed to be a 1997 Mazda RX-7. He was tall about 6’2 from your usual height, the rows of cornrows he had surprisingly looked good for the white boy and he had a long white tee and baggy blue jeans that were sagged. He was beyond fine than you liked to admit even though you could barley see him to begin with and seemingly kept to himself not worrying about the people around him.

“Devante who’s the guy stood over there with the black car on the far right” you say pointing in the direction of the mysterious boy, he looks towards the direction your pointing in and chuckles, “Oh him that’s Tom Kaulitz German racer apparently he’s a pretty big deal in Germany won every race he’s been in”

You nod looking back at the boy almost mugging him, “What don’t tell me the queen of racing is scared she might actually lose to big sensation Tom Kaulitz” he teases and you roll your eyes and cross your arms .

“Puh-lease I’ve won every race there’s no way I’m scared that ‘big sensation’ Tom Kaulitz will beat me, it will be like every other race an easy 1000 dollars made”

He smirks eyebrow pointing upwards, “if you say so”

Your attention is drawn to the two Asian girls with flags, signalling the race was about to begin. “May the best racer win” you salute at him before climbing into your car, fixing the rearview mirror. You check yourself out once more, applying a fresh coat of clear lip gloss before flicking the mirror back up. Your attention is brought back to the two girls as they waved the flags, you revved your engine getting ready to take off.

You smiled at the familiar sight of your fan girls that we’re screaming you on, you send them a wave and a rev of your engine egging them on. Your head turns toward your competitors as they seemed to do the same thing sizing you up as you gave them all a wink. The girls wave their flags counting down from 3 until they reached 1 waving their flags down signalling to go and you take off with a quickness leaving a gust of wind behind.

You screamed in excitement, the thrill of driving going up as your adrenaline pumped your heart harder. Your foot pressed hard against the accelerator, making harsh turns as you watched your competitors in the rear view and they were inches behind you, luckily this race was one lap only and you knew easily you would win. You picked up speed, following the course of the road.

Your hand gravitated to the stick shift changing the gears every time you heard the timed ticks from the engine, the purple fumes illuminated the road as you turned the corner. One of the racers picked up speed going neck to neck with you and turned your head for a second to see it was that German driver. You sneered as he turned in your direction with a grin, speeding past you, “Fuck”

You chased after him, changing gears and your speed exceeding over 140 mph. Your hands gripped the steering wheel as your lungs tightened with anticipation, you were overtaking each other each second and the finish line was nearing, you knew you couldn’t lose especially not some newbie that you barley knew. You were swerving at each corner, the tires making noises against the tarmac as the finish line came into view and you pressed your leg harder on the pedal, not paying attention to the other drivers but you and him.

“Come on…come on….come on…”

And with that you both make it to the finish line and you didn’t come first place. You slowed down, parking your car near the finish line. Furious wasn’t a way to describe how you were feeling, you were beyond pissed to the point you felt actual fumes coming out from both ears. You watched how king dickhead got praises and cheers from the crowd as he seemed to be boastful about it in excitement as if he was trying to intentionally piss you off more.

Devante and the rest of the drivers pull up next to you and get out of their vehicles and you follow, glaring at the one who took your position as winner. “Seems like you owe me a sandwich”

“Fuck off D not now” he put his hands up at your snarky attitude and you continued to look at Tom. From now on he was captain asshole and you would make sure you would make it know.

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A few weeks went by and you went from number one female driver in LA to second place, every race you were in Tom managed to beat and steal your thunder; you managed to lose half off your fan base because of the amount of losses you had and they all migrated to Toms side which he decided to call them his ‘Girlfriends’ stupid name I know and rumour has it that he hooks up with his fans as an ‘extra reward’ how infuriating could he get.

He also liked to piss you off at any chance; embarrassing you in front of his fans and your own, calling you names and laughing at your faults every time you thought no one was watching, you were fucking sick off him.

“I can’t fucking stand him” you voiced out to your home girl on the phone as you worked on the engine of your car. “I know babe you’ve voiced this out every time you call me”

“Well you can understand why though; he took my place as the best driver in LA, stole basically all of my fans and practically doesn’t stop to embarrass and shame me for not winning”

“Girl why don’t you just race him only to prove to him that you can beat him in a race” she suggests and your eyes lit up with excitement, “That’s it thanks Suki talk to you later”

The next time you see him is after the race and he beat you once again. You waltzed your way towards him as he was distracted by the multiple girls that crowded around him. “Kaulitz” you yell out and he turns around towering over you, “Come to congratulate me Y/N” he says with a slight smirk on his face.

“No but I’m here to challenge you to a race tomorrow night at 11pm at the old warehouse” the whole crowd make noises to the sudden call our as you cross your arms waiting for his response, “Bet it will be fun seeing you lose once again”

“We’ll see about that Kaulitz” you reply and he steps towards you, his mouth moving to your ear “I’ll see you tomorrow night when you lose once again to me” you wanted to slap that stupid smirk off his face as you turn around, walking back to the direction of your car with a sway of your hips.

The next day you made sure you looked your best, you wore a tight purple dress that reached your thighs and knee high boots with a pair of purple sunglasses. You applied a thin layer of lipgloss and get into your car watching the time approach 11pm. You drove your way to the meet up spot and it was busier than usual, your fans and his fans in one spot as you parked at your designated area.

You spot suki and devante and give them a slight wave and as usual Tom was late, his black Mazda pulling in and parking next to you. You could sense his eyes on you as you turn to face him, he throws you a wink and you roll your eyes fixing your rearview mirror. “Good luck” Suki shouts from the crowd sending a heart your way and you pretend to catch it sending one back.

The two girls stand in front of you once again, waving their flags in a mannered fashion counting down from three before hitting one and wave their flags downwards and you take off. Both of you were out for blood, refusing to stand down without a fight. Your hand stayed on the stick shift as the other was on the steering wheel, the cold breeze blew into your car as the sounds of the exhausts echoed into the night sky. Tom looked at you with a grin and you wondered what he was thinking.

He sped up and cut you off from turning the corner nearly making you spin out of control into the street lamp in front of you. “That fucker” you screamed and you pressed your foot on the accelerator gaining speed until you we’re neck to neck with him and you turn to face him, “Pull over now” you yell signalling go the side of the road, he seems to catch on and follows you onto the side of the road, parking behind you.

You get out of the car and march towards his car, knocking on his window and he reluctantly rolls it down, “What the fuck is your problem you cut me off back there and I nearly hit a street lamp”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about princess maybe racing isn’t cut out for women like you”

“What the fuck do you mean by it isn’t cut out for women like me” you question,

“You know exactly what I mean I don’t need to repeat myself” your fists were clenched and you were getting irritated by the minute and that surfaced heat felt like it needed to be let out instead of being bottled up.

“You know what fuck you Tom you think your such a fucking know it all showing off whenever you get the chance, you and your stupid car should’ve stayed in Germany you misogynistic prick” you sassed, pointing toward his car and him with every word.

“Oh Yeah is that how you feel about me” he reply’s, clearly amused by your response’s.

“Yeah that’s exactly how I feel and I’d appreciate if you would kindly listen and fuck off” he gets out his car slamming the door and he backs you up towards the back of his car.

“Or what princess what will you do if I don’t” he challenged, pressing a hand onto the rear end of his car.

You could feel it, the sexual tension was off the charts both refusing to stand down. You were Infuriated with him and it made you want to strangle him while the other half of you was annoyingly turned on by the argument you had spewed with him and you didn’t fail to notice his eyes flicker to your lips that were smeared with clear scented lipgloss and also don’t miss how he looks at the fat of your thighs and the way your dress hugs your body, showing off what you had to offer.

“I’ll make you” you say, pointing in his direction.

“Then make me princess”

You push him onto the side off his car and smash your lips against his, venting out the frustration and anger you felt towards him from the past few days. He moans in response, pulling on your hair as your noses bash against each other in the hungry kiss. You pull away and your lip gloss was smudged onto his lips and you giggle to yourself pointing to the back seat, “Get in the fucking car ”

“Don’t need to tell me twice” he replys,

You both climb into the back of his car, shutting the door behind you. You climb into his lap and your hands automatically cling to his shoulders and you begin grinding your clit into his pelvic bone creating a euphorical sensation as your hands went to press at his collar bone. You both touched and grabbed wherever you pleased not caring for the potential onlookers that could catch you both in the sinful act, “Fuck” he mutters, biting on your bottom lip as he helped you grind into him, using his hands.

His hands move to your ass, kneading it in both as he continued to grind into you in slow motions almost as if you were riding him. He curses feeling the wet spot of your arousal on top of his baggy jeans, you let out cute moans and whimpers as he left red love bites and markings across your neck, claiming you as his.

“Already soaking wet for me” he muttered bringing two fingers to brush against the fabric of your panties and your juices coat his fingers. He pushes your panties to the side and slides two fingers into you with intense eye contact, stroking his fingers every time with vulgar gestures. “Oh fuck”

Your fingers clench around his fingers as the squelchy sound of arousal filled the car. He watched how you lost yourself on his fingers, pumping them in and out as your legs began to shake. Your head fell back as he stroked your spot every time, “Shit” you curse and you come all over his fingers as he slowly came to a stop before pulling them out.

He brings his fingers to his mouth tasting you and he groans around them, “Taste so fucking sweet”

You were so turned on beyond recognition and you needed him to be inside you then and there. You unbutton his jeans and he helps you pull them off along with his boxers exposing his fully erect cock and immediately direct it to your opening, “Eager are we” he teased, watching as you sunk down on his length with a gasp. “So fucking tight…shit”

You collected yourself for a second before lifting up and sinking back down, a guttural moan emits from his mouth as you began riding him. You hated to admit that he was bigger and thicker than the others you had hooked up with in the past, it felt like with every bounce he was breaking you apart on his cock. “So…fucking big”

He watched you under his gaze, hands going to your hips as he grinded your clit into his hip bringing immense pleasure that you felt you would come that second by just a few thrusts. “You needed this dick didn’t you” he questioned and you moaned in response, hand tightening on the seat behind him. “Fuck yourself on my cock…just like that ”

You were fully bouncing on him, the car shaking and the windows fogging up as your hand fell onto the window leaving a hand print on it. His head rolled back, groaning at how tight you were almost like a vice gripping him with immense tightness. “How long have you thought about fucking me Y/N”

“For so- fucking long” you confess, you we’re in the moment this would be forgotten by tomorrow morning. “Yeah tell me how fucking good I’m making you”

“Mhmm-”

“Tell me”

“Your making me feel so fucking good” you admit, eyes rolling back as your orgasm neared. “I’m gonna cum all over you Tommy all over your fat cock” you moan out, sinking your teeth into the crook of his neck. “Wait I’m not done with yet” he stops you and rolls you both over so that your back is against the car seat and he hovered on top of you.

He began pounding into you, every thrust hitting that spongy spot inside, your voice box emitting raspy moans feeling your breath caught in your throat as tears began to form in your waterline. “Ohhhh-fuck” it was too much for you to handle, trying to escape his harsh pounding, “Don’t run away this is what you wanted…. right” he mocked bringing his hand to remove the top of your dress, exposing your tits.

He slapped one of them grunting as he felt himself get closer and closer, “Where do you want it- fuck” he asks and you open your eyes, “In me….cum inside of me” you scream, wrapping your arms around his back and bringing him into another kiss, tongues tangling and moans mixing. “Shit”

You finally cum, your body convulsing as your orgasm hit you like a brick. Toms pace never faltered chasing his own before releasing inside you with a grunt and you moan at the warm liquid filling you up. You were out of breath feeling the now newfound embarrassment of fucking someone you hated and avoided eye contact. “Don’t get shy on me look at me” he finally says, gently putting his hand onto your cheek and forcing you to look at him.

“No one ever said I was shy you just assumed it” you lie, huffing out. “Mhmm definitely believe you princess” your cheeks flutter at the nickname and you curse yourself, why were you all of a sudden shy around him it made you want to puke. “I’ll let you win the race”

“Wait what really” you say surprised, what was he getting at.

“I wouldn’t say this if i didn’t mean it you know I love to win a race”

You roll your eyes, “and what’s the catch”

“The catch is you have to let me take you out somewhere”

“And why would I willingly agree to that”

“Because you like me”

“Just cause we fucked don’t mean I like you idiot”

“Tell that to someone else sweetheart don’t think I didn’t catch the way you reacted to me calling you princess earlier”

“Fuck off” you reply with playful hit on his chest,

“Admit it”

“A girl never spills her secret but I agree to your stupid date because I want to win”

“Mhmm keep telling yourself that”

He gives you one more kiss before you both get dressed and you cringe at the feeling of his cum falling down your leg. “Race you there loser” you mimic him from earlier and you get into your car, taking off towards the finish line.

Of course you came first place and your fans cheered like crazy congratulating you as you thanked everyone. Tom pulled up next to you and he gives you a knowing look as he walks toward his friends and you walk towards Suki giving her a hug. “Congrats Y/N what does it feel like to be LA’s winner in the first time in 4 weeks” she says pushing a fake microphone towards your lips, “Feels fucking amazing that’s what it feels like” your eyes gravitate to Tom and he was already looking at you, sending a wink in your direction.

“Definitely feels amazing”

#tom kaulitz x black reader #reader #black reader #tom kaulitz x reader #smut #x black fem reader #tom kaulitz smut #black reader smut #tom kaulitz #leiswxrld #leiscoven

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prodsh00ky · 6 months

Text

from the cradle to the grave

pairing: vampire!seonghwa x reader

warnings: use of words probably, crying, mentions of blood, death, war and violence, seonghwa creeps the reader out by breaking into their house, deja vu era seonghwa look combined with 2023 long haired hwa bc this should be a warning, some angsty stuff, fluff if u squint really really hard, past lives (sort of), reader is referred to using they/them pronouns but i might have left something that suggest they’re female/afab in the way; please let me know if there’s more

wc: ~4.6k words

notes: i tried to finish this in time for halloween (it was sitting in my drafts since 2021...) so this was supposed to be a spooky season fic. it didn’t work but here it is anyways! hope you guys like it. im a big vampire enthusiast and a bIG seonghwa enthusiast which makes me the biggest vamp!hwa agenda supporter so lets gooo

well, at least your gut feeling was probably right.

these last days have been… weird, to say the least. every time you’d go back to your apartment after college you felt like you were being observed, maybe even followed. it was like there was someone always behind you or around the place you were in a way that made you feel like you were never alone indeed, and you didn't like the shivers you got from it. to top it off, the whole thing was giving you even more bad nightmares than the usual; the most recent ones involved big mansions from the eighteenth century or something, a lot of fighting, blood and a pair of piercing eyes staring into your soul. the worst part was that you always forgot in the course of your day that you were having them, only remembering when waking up in a cold sweat from a new one. your friends told you it probably was due to the time of the year since spooky season just began, and you thought it might be it; a scary vibe was nothing less than expected from fall.

but the tall figure standing behind your favorite armchair that welcomed you home seconds ago after you locked your apartment’s door told you otherwise. you automatically move to grab your floor lamp to defend yourself.

“who are you and what are you doing here?”

“so you’re feisty. i should keep track of that.”

his voice is deep but also smooth. he’s probably a head and a half taller than you and wears a white shirt with a v cut, black trousers paired with a black blazer and his neck is adorned with a sole silk ribbon. when he turns to you, you get to see that his long black hair would probably reach his silver pendant earrings if it wasn't tucked into a fancy hairstyle with a silver pin holding the front and that his eyes are sharp and piercing (and strangely similar with the ones in your recent nightmares, but this time they feel familiar and not frightening as usual), just as the rest of his facial features. he is probably the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. but you still have no idea of who he is or how he got inside your house, so you quietly get your phone and dial 911.

“i'm going to repeat it just once more. who are you, what are you and how the fuck have you gotten inside?” he seems too entertained eyeing you from head to toe for some seconds, but he quickly wakes from his apparent trance and answers you.

“right. i'm sorry for the rudeness... and for the invasion, for that matter, although this apartment was virtually 100% accessible for me. oh, and for the last few days too, but i'm afraid the observing was necessary. i’m park seonghwa, one of the royal eight, and deeply pleasured to know you.” he bows lightly and opens his mouth to continue and it shows you a glimpse of long sharp canine teeth. it makes you interrupt him.

“so you’re the one who’s following me? know what, it doesn’t matter actually, i’m calling the cops.” you turn to open the door and get outside, however the keys aren't in the door handle anymore. with the lamp still in your hold you try to open the knob forcefully, adrenaline beginning to fill you due to despair, but the jittery sound of the keys dangling makes you turn to the stranger once more. he holds the keys with his left hand, the right one leaning in the armchair.

“forgive me for my ways, but calling the police won’t be needed and after you listen to me you’ll see why. i’m not here to hurt you in any way, it’s actually… quite the opposite. i was following you because me and my brothers needed to reach you, and after i finally found you i wanted to know who we were looking for. if you’re willing to give me some of your time, i’ll be happy to explain everything i can for now. please?”

considering your options, either you jump out of the window into a 65 feet fall or listen to him. but you still want to be sure someone is keeping track of you, so you move to open the window hoping today the old couple and the friendly lady who lives in the building next to yours and are always inviting you to spend the holidays and have dinner with them are gaping inside your place as usual and turn on the localization device in your phone.

“you have ten minutes.”

“thank you for considering my offer.” he answers, seemingly more relieved, and starts talking. “i’m not sure how to address it correctly… there probably isn't a correct way to do it, so i’ll be plainspoken. i’m a vampire, such as my brothers, and we need your help because you hold powers that can save our empire from the mass attack it is suffering right now.”

you huff, because it’s the only thing you feel like doing.

“you really invaded my house to fool me into a halloween prank? who made you do it? oh, it must have been yeonjun and kai, right? i'm calling the bastards right now, this is way off limits.” you manage to grab your phone in your pocket again but, just like your keys, you see it appearing in the guy’s hands.

“it’s not a prank and your human friends have nothing to deal with it, swear with my long gone soul. i am indeed a vampire, as you can verify by my teeth. vampires exist, such as some other ‘magical creatures’, as your people like to call us. i’m park seonghwa, the second vampire emperor, or prince, whatever you’d prefer, and am here to plead for your help because my empire is perishing and the eight of us can’t do much without you.”

the serious way he’s speaking almost convinces you, but it still sounds so crazy and nonsensical you keep yourself skeptical. you can't avoid some classical questions, though.

“why aren’t you burning or shining in the sun, then? and i don't see you sweating due to the giant amount of garlic in my kitchen. there’s no proof to your allegations, fang boy.”

seonghwa finds it really hard to suppress a smile. you were much more fun (and cute) than he thought, and seeing you being so doubtful only added to the feeling he had.

“because not all the tales you humans like to tell about us are true. garlic does not affect vampires at all, i have no idea where this... thing came from. we only get paler in the sunlight, as you may perceive.” he moves closer to your window, and you can see his slightly tanned skin turning paler and paler until his veins start to become proeminent and dark blue in his skin. it’s almost as if he's like a living canvas full of paint.

“i don’t believe you.”

“do you expect me to prove my identity then? because the only way to do it is by feeding, and im afraid you’re the only human in the nearer 260 feet at least.'' he steps closer and while he’s talking you see his fangs getting longer. and sharper. he touches his pointer finger with his teeth and his skin rips easily as if a needle had been dragged along it. when you look into his eyes they’re rouge as… blood. fear creeps into you and you step back, moving your head no.

“y-you can go on! i will hear you, i p-promise. i'm not exactly doubting it anymore.” you say, voice weak with fear. you move to your couch slowly, eyes still fixated in his every move. “i-im going to sit because this doesn’t sound like a conversation i’ll be able to take in while standing. feel free to sit too.” he moves to sit in the same armchair he’s leaning, but you start to talk again before you forget and his eyes move up to you again. “oh, but i want my keys and phone. you’ll not be getting my help making it look like you want to keep me in captivity.”

he nods, putting your phone and keys in your center table. you grab them almost immediately murmuring “thanks” because well, look where you are. he nods again and waits until you stop moving to talk.

“i’m shall start from the beginning since you have no familiarity with the vampires situation, right?” you nod, asking yourself what a vampire situation would mean. “the… ‘magic’ realm, i’ll call it this way for now because it’s easier, is hidden from human eyes. we have our own rules that exist to ensure mainly two things: that we won’t reveal ourselves to you with ease and that we will have peace, or anything closest to it, within us. some centuries ago people lived in balance and each kind had their own inside rules and organization besides these two major ones, but a riot some of the folks started created chaos and eventually a war. it was a slaughter; many villages were destroyed and many creatures, killed. it’s one of the darkest chapters of our story.

“wait, what do you mean by ‘creatures’ and ‘folks’? you’re not saying…”

“witches, elves, mermaids and sirens, gnomes, fairies, fauns, they’re all real. at some level, at least. i say this due to the fact you humans love to fantasize about their characteristics way too much, as you could testify with me and the sun belief you had. the majority of things you assume you know about them or about ur are probably inaccurate.”

your frown, “and what is the truth about all of you, then? what is wrong in the things i’ve been taught?”

there’s hints of a smirk in his lips, but he tries his best to keep neutral. “curious, aren't’ we? i’d love to share it with you, but it’s best that you learn it by yourself.” your eyebrows raise and he gets the sign to keep talking. “we’ll get there, do not worry.”

he takes a deep breath, a shadow of something gray crossing his sharp features. “after the war finished, pretty much all that was left was chaos. in an effort to save the survivors, an assembly was arranged so we could fix new rules and try to establish things. it happens that the vampires were the race that had the fewest deaths and casualties during the war and managed to better organize ourselves for that to happen, so it was decided by majority that we would rule all races from then on.”

“holy crap-” you tap your mouth, using the best of your self control skills to not laugh in his face, “this sounds like a fanfic i’d have read when i was twelve. how did you guys manage all the power? and you said majority, not unanimity. there was someone against it, i suppose.”

seonghwa allows himself to smile, happy to observe you notice things rather quickly. you try to suppress your own reaction; if he was already handsome poker faced, it felt like his smile alone could convince you about anything he was saying and more. “we accepted it, since it was what most wanted. some begged, even, at some point of the discussion. it was never easy, though. we have faults and committed many mistakes, some worse than others and some… unforgivable, if i’m being honest. but i assure we hardly did then out of personal selfishness, the weight of keeping things in place is always something that humbles us down. and yes, you assumed correctly, there were people against it.”

he pauses abruptly, looks at you and laughs quietly, which confuses you. the fact that his laughing warms you inside has nothing to do with it, you reassure yourself.

“what?”

“if you thought the previous facts i’ve told you sounded like a… fantasy book or so, you can’t wait for the next bit.” he tries to dwell his laughter down to answer you, but you can see he’s struggling. “guess who disagreed with us being in power?”

it takes you less than a millisecond to reply. “no shit it were the werewolves.”

he starts laughing again but freely, not trying to refrain himself, and this time you can’t control the shocked smile that creeps onto your face along with your eyes widening.

“jesus fuck, seonghwa-” you have to pause for a second to recompose yourself, because you started laughing too hard along with him without even realizing, “it was already hard to believe the whole vampire convo and all, now you’re saying that not only other species of magical creatures do exist but the rivalry between vampires and werewolves is real? how do you expect me not to think this is some sort of twilight remake?"

“oh, no, not that movie,” he says while trying to stop laughing, “i’ve never watched it but it has caused enough misunderstandings already about us.”

you eye him up and down, “have some respect, it’s a masterpiece! i’m sure you just have never watched it because you know you’ll get inferiority complex since you’ll never be edward cullen.”

“i’ll pretend i know what you’re talking about and agree.” you laugh but on your own this time, and he can’t avoid admiring the wrinkles in your face when you do it. “resuming, the werewolves were never exactly comfortable with the idea of us in power in the first place, but as i said it was what the majority wanted. it has been like this for over eight centuries, and everything was going peacefully until around the nineteenth century. the werewolves started a rebellion against our empire, and to do it joined forces with each and every wrongdoer in our realm. they managed to have each and every single creature that had committed horrendous crimes as their allies, which caught us by surprise. we’ve tried to talk to them in the beginning, but it didn't work; they started to kill vampires and pretty much everyone that agreed with our power. it has been like this since then, and we were succeeding in controlling the war until one century ago.”

“oh.” nice way to react, you think. but what would be a great reaction for a narnia x game of thrones crossover of sorts? “i’m… i’m sorry, i guess. i’m not sure how to properly react to all of this, and it’s harder to conceive it as true. and what does it all have to do with me? swear i’m trying not to be a jerk or so, but why are you telling me all of this? why did you come after me?”

seonghwa, once again, has to control a smile creeping in. “because you, y/n, might be the key to saving everything.”

your brain short circuits. “what?” you freeze, wanting to laugh in his face, but the serious and hopeful look he gives you indicates he’s telling the truth. then a detail, a tiny but important detail comes to your mind. “wait- how the fuck do you even know know my name? i haven’t said it to you until now, there’s pretty much no mail you could get that from and most of my friends call me by nicknames, how do you know it?”

despair flashes through his eyes, but it’s only for a second. “well, here's where things start getting… interesting. or complex. i know it might sound crazy but… there’s… you… you’re…”

its the first time he seems uncertain or insecure and maybe even afraid in his speech if you squint, but the next bit that comes out of his mouth makes everything really sound like a big joke.

“i’m afraid there’s no easy way to let you know this, so i’ll have to be straightforward. you’re a living amplifier to any type of supernatural being. this amplifying power is given to a human in earth as a blessing from whatever force that keeps the universe balanced from time to time, but there are always at least a few centuries that part the amplifiers’ births. the last amplifier was a friend, an ally of ours that helped - or rather lead us vampires to our victory and was the sole reason why i and pretty much all of the survivors are still alive. i know your name because it was one of the last words he said before passing after sacrificing so much to guarantee peace amongst supernatural folks. i’m here to ask or rather plead for your help, because although we have more resources and ways of fighting now we’re afraid that it might not be enough for the challenges we might face.”

you blink once. twice. then you sneer.

“you know, i was almost believing you. i’m ashamed to admit it, but it was almost getting to me. but after this i'm afraid i’ll have to call kai and yeonjun and tell them to stop fucking with me every halloween season because this is way off limits. you’re a great actor, though,”, you say, reaching for you phone, “i’m sure you’ll go the distance or so. your costume is very well made too, i have no idea who thought about the eye mechanism but is sure surpr-

he takes your hand with his extremely cold one before you reach your phone.

“please. me and my brothers don’t have much time to deal with your doubts properly, and i’m sorry about that, so i beg of you. it probably sounds way far from your human rationality, but have you never felt anything different? any other type or force or liveliness different from what others feel? have you never seen the way some people thrive when they’re by your side? how they go higher than they probably would if they weren’t close to you? how it’s so easy for your to really connect to the people you love and how pleased they seem to be to love you back? have you ever felt observed? have you never seen that there are beings trying to put their eyes on you all the time, specially in nightmares?”

you head starts to spin. yes. he actually had a point. your presence around people you liked seemed to bring them more joy and great opportunities for some unknown reason, and it has been this way since ever. your childhood nickname was “lucky” due to this; the games and toys were funnier and happier when you were around, even if one of your friends got hurt - it would be fine, after all, right? the foster home you grew up in started to receive more donations after you arrived, and your foster dads were able to house even more children. your presence became a must in problem solvings while you grew up, because, for some reason, the fact that you were there made it all calmer and somehow easier. your friends would get higher grades, nicer positions in the school teams, greater opportunities and happier memories if you were involved or cheering for them; you were a walking lucky charm all over your life. your parents, your foster siblings and the few real friends you have always said the love they feel towards you is different than any type of love they’ve ever experienced. kai and yeonjun even like to joke that you have some type of magic on your blood or something, because they feel that your friendship will undoubtedly last for the rest of your life, no room for doubt.

and the nightmares. they were way more intense and frequent when you were a child. creepy and lone places, destroyed cities, dark alleyways stained with blood, desolated ghost-like faces, cries of help you never knew whom they belonged to. but the worse ones were the ones that had eyes around aware of your every move no matter what you did. they were the ones that offered your nights of sleep no mercy and made you wake up crying hard and shaking up from despair for years. funnily enough, they always seem to happen again frequently each spooky season.

“i-i suppose you’re right in some way, b-but-”

“have you had a time where you painted a lot? maybe when you were a kid?”

that’s what breaks you.

“h-how the fuck do you know this?”

his lips curve up, a sad smile reaching his eyes. “eden, the last amplifier, was a painter. probably one of the best ever seen in the whole world, if i have a say on that. an amplifier born will always have and nurture the last amplifier’s talents for at least some time, specially during their childhood. if you took on his talent, i bet your paintings were astonishing, even more for a child.”

your memories flash in front of your eyes: how many paintings have you made for your parents’ office? how many times did you spend your early sunday mornings painting in order to gift your siblings? how many of these were still with them, in their houses, becoming part of the scenery of their lives until nowadays? and why the fact you abruptly stopped doing them when you were nine or ten had never made sense until now?

“i’m- i’m sorry, but- this must be some type of misunderstanding or bad taste joke, that’s ithe only explanation, that's it-”

“as said before im deeply sorry that we don’t have more time to do this with ease but…”, he huffs, looking down and then to you again, “this is what will have you believing me. i’m really sorry.”

he stares into your eyes for one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight seconds straight.

and then it all hits you.

flashes of some of the places you saw in your nightmares, but this time live, in person, because you were there; a giant castle with an art studio, your beloved art studio, where all your creativity flew through the canvases, where life seemed to make more sense. flashes of people you never met; unfamiliar smiles in their faces, but the lingering feeling there’s no physical building that could carry your conception of home more than they could; nights together singing by the moonlight, but also serious conversations and arguing and fighting but always making up because, in the end, they’re your family; war and horrible battles and you standing in all of them offering everything this force inside of you could because things had to end in peace; crying, seeing red and hearing their last words for you. darkness, solitude, happiness, yearning, melancholy, bliss, doubt, joy, frustration, hope, all types of feelings that weren’t and were yours at the same time.

you snap out of it with the feeling of seonghwa’s cold thumbs drying the tears you didn’t realize were streaming down your cheeks.

“i’m sorry this is so unfair to you,” he whispers, “i really wish this could happen naturally, without demanding so much of you and shattering the world you know with such violence as it has always been with the others…”

for a while, you just allow him to hold your face and caress it, too overwhelmed by everything that’s flooding your brain. after what could be some seconds, minutes or even hours, you’re not sure at this point, you move away from his touch and he lets you go, something heavy in his eyes you are not able to decipher due to your state.

“you need time to digest it all, and you’ll have it. i’ll make sure that no nightmares or even visions plague your mind in the next days so you can rest. but i’ll have to come back in a week or two to ask you to come with me and help us if you’re willing to do it. i promise that i’ll answer any of your questions then and that more understanding of what you’re capable of will make it a bit easier. you can share all of this, but be sure to do it only with trusted ones and with as fewer people as possible.”

he gets up and makes the beeline to the door, but comes back and leaves a black business card in the table in front of you, just a single phone number written in red in it.

“if you need anything, do not hesitate to call this number and talk to me. i’ll do anything in my power to help you.”

he opens the door, turning to look at you for one last time. ”we’ll see each other again, y/n.”

seonghwa closes your apartment’s door and in a couple of minutes he’s walking in the street again. he takes his phone, dials a number he knows by heart and waits. the voice that answers him is curious, yet patient.

“hey, are you fine? how did it go?”

he huffs before replying, “as well as you would expect, hongjoong. they didn’t hit me with a broom or tried to shoo away with garlic, but also didn’t believe me until i forced them to see.”

“so you did have to hypnotize them?”

“unfortunately. humans got way too used to believe we’re bedtime stories, specially in this century, so it wasn't something i didn't expect, but i-”

“you’re not entirely comfortable with doing it too, i know. by the way, how did you feel? since it all probably got stronger, was it okay for you?”

seonghwa hesitates for a few seconds. “it was ecstatic, hongjoong. i’m not sure i’m able to fully translate it into words. the more time I spent there and the more I understood about who they are now the more it became hard to let go. this is nothing like anything else that i ever felt, and it’s only the first time i saw them. i feel lost but also as if i had finally found something very important inside me at the same time. i… have no idea of what to do.”

“maybe telling them, if you already didn’t?”

“no way. it was hard enough for them to believe the whole thing, it would be twice as hard if they knew- if i told them things probably would have been even harder. they’ll know when the right time comes.”

“sure, then. it’s your choice. are you already coming back?”

“yeah, i’ll call for the car in some minutes.”

“great. thanks, hwa. i know this was probably tough on you. come home safely.”

seonghwa replies with a hushed see you soon and hangs up. he knows hongjoong just wants to be sure, but they knew each other well enough for hongjoong to presume nothing of the matter would have been said to you by seonghwa.

because how could he? right after stealing the truth you had been living until and shattering it into pieces? it sounded too cruel for him, he felt it in the moment he laid eyes on you today.

time would say when he’d tell you that besides your name, eden also said that the next amplifier would be his soulmate, and that this would allow to change things forever.

©prodsh00ky 2023. no crossposting or translations allowed.

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ceruleancattail · 8 months

Text

Divided Love

Azul x Reader

The wheels on the trolley go round and round. Spinning on its axis, squeaking like a little mouse. You lean to your side, twisting the trolley through displays of various household items.

A shopping trip to IKEA for the Mostro Lounge wasn’t something on your agenda for the day. Yet Azul did personally request for your assistance. Who were you to turn him down?

Azul trails behind you, casually flipping over price tags. His face was an open book, oddly enough. You would expect a shrewd businessman to have a poker face at all times.

Maybe it’s because he’s technically taking a break, away from all the contracts and deals he orchestrates within the walls of Night Raven College. Perhaps he’s a little weary of keeping his emotions concealed within his mind, shut away by lock and key.

Maybe it’s because you’re with him. You’ve noticed him being a little more honest, when matters concern you. Consulting you more often, whenever something arises. No matter how trivial the issue seems.

Just yesterday, he sought you out. Asking you to drop by after class to sample some deserts Mostro Lounge was considering for the menu. Coincidently, they happened to be treats you favoured.

How odd.

Humming to yourself, you sneak a glance at Azul’s face. Watching those silver curls of hair sway with his every step. The steel frame of his glasses twinkle like starlight under the store’s lighting. It’s easy to tell what he feels about each piece of furniture, based on his expressions.

You’ve seen his eyebrows shoot up into his fringe more then once, tongue clicking away. Displeasure with the pricing of that particular item.

When he frowns slightly, creases lining his brow, Azul’s considering whether the item would fit in with the rest of the decor of the Lounge. After all, there’s a rather prevalent theme for all the decor within Mostro Lounge.

A smile tugging at your lips, you let your gaze wander. Darting over multicoloured cushions and chairs, they land on a little corner of the store. Rows of plush toys line the shelves, sinking into each other. Their fur soft, glimmering under the store’s lighting. As the toys were coaxing you closer.

Immediately, you lengthened your stride, making a beeline for the little cuties. A bear, looking rather satisfied with his belly. A golden retriever, with its tongue lolling out happily. Yet the prize of the collection beckoned to you, waving each one of its eight arms.

An huge yellow octopus, eight arms dangling off the very edge of the shelf. It had big, black eyes that just seemed filled with kindness. Something about that gaze went straight into your heart, warming the cockles within.

Gingerly, you pluck one off the shelf. Clutching it to your chest, you wrap your fingers around one tentacle. Flicking your wrist, the tendril waves at Azul.

Azul raises an eyebrow, shooting you a look of disbelief.

“Really?”

Huffing, you tug the octopus closer. Doing your best to stifle a giggle, as the plush melted into your chest. Soft as fresh snow, yet there was a certain firmness to it as well. The perfect companion for cuddles.

You plop it into the trolley, beaming at the yellow critter.

“I’m taking it!”

Heaving a sigh, Azul jabs at the octopus with his fingers. Lower lip jutting out every so slightly in a pout, a faint pink dusted over his cheeks. He picks it up, giving the octopus a once over.

“Any… particular reason for purchasing this animal, specially?”

Tripping over his words, Azul’s gaze found itself meeting yours. There was a certain emotion behind his eyes you found hard to describe. A tender look, as soft as a bruise. Longing behind those eyes as grey as mist.

Your cheeks grow warm, skin blazing alive in a inferno. Reaching over to Azul, you swipe the octopus from him. Burying your face into its oversized noggin, praying that Azul saw nothing on your face.

Desperately trying to keep a sense of cool, despite the way your heart seemed intent of bursting out of your chest.

“I… I like octopuses.”

A weight on your palm. Gently, Azul guides your hand away from the octopus. Carefully interlocking his fingers in between yours, palm flat against your palm. A heartbeat, pulsing into your skin.

A rather flustered beat, doing its best to keep up.

Azul’s cheeks were tinted pink, ears a scarlet red. His grip tightens, as he takes a step closer. Forehead pressing against yours, his breath wafting over your lips ever so tantalisingly.

“Just ‘Like’, my dear?”

Your heart skipped a beat, plunging straight into overdrive. Thundering against your rib cage, crashing against the walls of flesh that kept it constrained.

“Love.”

The word slipped out all by itself, hanging in the air.

“ I love… I love them.”

A light, airy chuckle. Bringing your hand up, Azul presses a light kiss into your knuckles. His lips were soft, gliding across the back of your palm. A slow, passionate affair. The way he kissed was little awkward, but no one could accuse him of not being a gentleman.

His gaze flickered up to you once more, a light twinkling within those misty grey eyes.

“Just them?

How about this octopus in particular, hm?”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Azul Ashengrotto #Azul Ashengrotto x reader #Azul x reader #Azul #lucky potion🔷#I WANTED TO GET THAT PLUSHIE SO BAD #I NEEDED IT #IT WAS SO CUTE AND AND AND #UGRH #I didn’t get it in the end #but WAIT FOR ME #I’LL BE BACK!!!!

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accio-victuuri · 7 months

Text

(130) FAKE RUMORS FOR YOU. 💭💌

i have definitely made several posts related to fake rumors both from cql era & rumor houses so this is definitely one of my favorite things to share. these are all from cql filming timeline where the practice of fake rumors really started. this does not include the 49 initial fakes. as usual, these are not real. 🤐

i found the screenshot compilation over here. so there you go. enjoy! 🍰🍪🍭

1. the two of them are very close on the set and when female supporting role has not been deleted yet. During one scene, wyb once asked the director with a black face ( angry ) in front of xz “I can’t tell what the relationship between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji is. I can’t immerse myself in the role”

( I think it’s common knowledge that in the beginning, the production had some hetero agenda to appease censorship. As we all know, the book fans weren’t happy with that because it takes away the key essence of the story. I’m so happy we got the depiction of WWX/LWJ relationship that we did. I’m happy that XZ and WYB both voiced their bias to follow the source material. Remember XZ also said ( in an unofficial bts so let’s take it as fake too ) to cut the scenes with a female lead that seems romantic. so whoever is saying that these two were somehow tricked into starring in a bl drama needs some serious common sense lol )

2. xz watched wyb’s video of “yelling lyrics” and laughed at him for a long time

3. they looked up each others’ dark history, wyb searched xz’s old pictures, and xz searched are wyb’s videos.

( i think this is proven in an interview, they did look up each other’s previous works. HAHAHAHAHA! it’s so cuteeee cause this is like when you have a crush on someone and you stalk their socials to know more about them. but ofc theirs was all professional courtesy. or was it? )

4. next, xz said when he pulled out his blonde video he said that wyb was so cute. wyb even flipped up his hair to show him, but when another actor said it, wyb just smiled but didn't respond.

( lol omg dandan yibo! )

5. when playing Honor of Kings, wyb likes to play as topsolo and jungle, xz usually plays as midsolo, xz once complained that wyb has no team awareness and being unable to score points with him.

( there is a whole cpn about this that’s super interesting over here. )

6. likes to praise each other exaggeratedly in front of the camera and in private. even if they have NG scenes.

7. many scenes were deleted from the drama, such as the branding on the chest. There was also a scene where Lan Wangji went off the cliff to find Wei Wuxian. The scenes were not aired. I guess it’s too ambiguous.

8. wyb sometimes leaves the crew to do other work xz will often chat with him on WeChat. Once the director asked him who he was video chatting with. Then he just said “it’s Lao Wang”. The director was shocked at that time.

( we have cpn about this too, them sending each other photos and videos. chatting and video calling when they are not filming together. )

9. wyb introduced xz to motorcycles and raced with him at the scene. I feel like xz is not interested in the video but has been listening patiently.

10. The two of them often eat together after work, wyb loves to eat sour food. One time, xz staff bought two portions of “liang pi” xz thought it was a bit sour and ate a little. Wyb finished his portion and still ate xz’s leftovers.

( this is basically true as well. i mean we have video/s of them eating off of each other’s plate )

11. wyb taught xz dancing and korean on the set.

12. both of them are very childish and like to use all kinds of strange words.

13. wyb once used a forehead ribbon in the dressing room to tie xz’s hands up, xz looked at him indifferently and helplessly.

14. when filming the scene in the cave, both of them got wet. The makeup laoshi asked them to hurry up and put on their costumes outside. The two of them were still in the water. When playing inside, wyb immediately took off xz’s outermost coat.

15. two people have discussed the issue of body hair xz asked wyb: Why do you have so little leg hair? Wyb said he was born with it. xz looked at him with an interesting expression.

16. the deleted branding scene was after Lan Wangji recovered from his injury. Looking for Wei Wuxian's body on the cliff, but we only saw the battle in the Nightless City. He was so angry and sad that he burned the torture instrument with lava and burned the same wound in the same place on his chest.

17. another one that was deleted was the conversation with Wei Wuxian on a snowy night. After Lan Huan finished talking about Lan Wangji, Lan Wangji came back, and Wei Wuxian called Lan Wangji with emotion and choked up, "Why didn’t you tell me? Lan Wangji lowered his head and said nothing. I heard that the producers thought the deleted parts were too ambiguous. The explanation is unclear, and there are many small scenes that have been deleted.

18. wyb once complained that xz’s playlist is very old because wyb can’t tell what kind of children’s song xz sings about 😂😂😂

19. wyb often plays Wei Wuxian’s flute on set but xz doesn’t play much with Lan Wangji’s sword. Wyb once said that he (xz) was the best blowing the flute the group. xz beat him because of that. Lol.

20. the reason for Lan Wangji’s shape is that there are two strands of hair in front. so when waiting for the scene, he would pick up the hair at the back xz and help him. He said it many times, and also said that Wang Yibo can get married if he has long hair that reaches his waist.

21. xz said that wyb has a shape that looks like bamboo shoots and then at noon that day, he asked the assistant to order the fried pork with bamboo shoots from the small kitchen. then ate together with wyb.

22. there is a scene where Lan Wangji needs to carry Wei Wuxian on his back. He tried and was officially filmed after one take. After the filming, the director asked them why they were joking. XZ said he didn’t know how to put his feet after lying down. Lan Wangji didn’t catch it either, both of them laughed.

23. wyb doesn’t eat snacks very much on set, but he does eat director Nie and about xz’s snacks. he said that xz does not eat snacks properly. The most common meal he eats is the fruit salad that xz brought to the set.

24. wyb’s sword tool was thrown around once and fell down. When we got to our feet, xz happened to see it next to him and laughed for a long time.

25. there were several group scenes shot in the suburbs of Hengdian. both guys have lots of mosquito bites. xz told wyb I will teach you how to get better quickly, so he used his fingers to make a cross on wyb’s mosquito bite. wyb’s face was like “you must be lying to me” but he still made a cross on every bite

26. the first time they filmed outdoors, when they talked about what insects there were in the fields, wyb told xz that he was scared of insects, especially those with many tentacles, then he carefully counted every thing that he was scared of.

27. xz likes to scare him with insects, during wyb’s birthday he also scared him with insects

28. once, other actors used a horror video to scare wyb, wyb didn’t know about it and immediately jumped to the side after watching it. xz stood at the side and said “he is really scared, don’t mess with him”

29. the two of them have different make up artists to help them touch up their makeup. One time, the make up artist who helped xz was absent, so wyb’s make up artist did both of their make up. wyb was standing at the side and he said “Bi Jie, if you use the brush that you used on his face on me, my face will become really pale” then xz hit him.

30. the two will play games together in xz’s car, xz gave one side of his bluetooth earphone.

31 . the staff watched the two of them arguing and at first I thought it was really a bad relationship, but after, they saw that the two will together. so he got used to it.

32. xz watched the pd 101 girl group dance in front of wyb, it seems that it is also a dance compilation. after watching it, xz has been obsessed with it and calls wyb asian dance king.

33. in the first month of filming, the two of them competed for a few days. Speaking in Beijing dialect, I can hear it from far away: “Have you eaten?”

34. continuing from the previous one, when filming started, the director requested that the right person be called Fang Zai’s name in the drama. The two of them like to call each other all the titles in the drama that was later developed. Brother Cheng! Elder! Senior! and so on.

35. xz has many types of eye drops, wyb uses them too and will ask xz to help

36. the two of us competed when they were bored waiting for the scene. waist strength and flexibility, xz bent over and touched his toes but can't stand still, so he fell forward. wyb’s hands were quick to help him up. he wanted to laugh because xz is an old artist who cannot break his muscles and bones

37. continuing from the above entry, wyb’s hand is big and he can wrap both of xz’s with one hand. wyb is proud of it. he also said his hands are whiter than xz’s.

38. when wyb sits on the chair, his legs are spread wide. Once while, he was sitting there looking at his phone, and then across from him xz kept looking at him and laughing without saying a word. wyb was pissed off by him. xz told him that wyb was wearing shorts today and his legs were too wide and was - little exposed.

39. when filming nightless city, there was a scene where Lan Wei stood high on stage xz secretly pinched wyb's waist to make him stand up straighter.

40. two people like to play games together and they always looked at their mobile phone. some directors have said that when Wei Wuxian is there, you will be sure that 3 away from him, there will be Lan Wangji coming out 😂😂😂

41. the two actually got to know each other very well quickly. the director also praised that it melted ( break the ice, so the ice was melted in this case ) very quickly, but the staff didn’t think about it. when it comes to wyb, he is actually very childish and lively, but also very matured.

42. Watching this pair for more than 3 seconds will definitely make you laugh, and xz laughs the hardest.

43. they often sing together while waiting for the filming. wyb can also teach xz the choreography he wants to dance on the show. xz complimente wyb’s legs for being so flexible.

44. xz is a very gentle person who is sincere and has no attitude. one time, the film assistant talked to him about his stance, but he may have said it wrong, which resulted in two wrong shots. he (xz) only told the director that it was his fault and then helped him after filming. the staff apologized to him and he said it didn't matter. The set was too busy and he should have checked again, it was super warm.

45. Occasionally, the crew will open interviews together and there are fans who will sneak in. Once in the wild, someone shouted xz, mommy loves you. sister loves you. If wyb hears it, zg brother loves you.

46. the scene was filmed three or four times where lwj caught the chicken because it so crowded at first. the cages are full of chickens. Wyb didn’t catch them the first time he started. there were only two chickens left inside as props, and they were caught by xz a few times later. the chicken was obviously frightened but the director cut it. the scene was chaotic.

47. in lwj’s drunk scene, wyb refused to drink. He also said that the drunken blush that the makeup artist painted on him was "not cool at all." xz said that after that he turned into a red peony and then was beaten by wyb. 😂😂😂

48. two people often bicker and go back and forth most of the time. it ends with the meaningless repetition of very young students talking to each other.

49. when filming the scene with snow, the two of them discussed it. they made an appointment to go to the ice sculpture and ski resort in Erbin during their vacation before the Spring Festival.

( I think is the place they planned to go ⛷️ )

50. the two often work with directors and producers on scenes and when telling directions, when the director said some very straightforward words, the two of them just look at each other and smiled.

51. the two people shot a scene outdoors, the wind was very strong, xz’s hair keeps blowing in the wind. he was talking excitedly, wyb naturally removed all the bits of hair stuck to the corners of his mouth.

52. In fact, they still like to move their feet most when they are fighting. There is one time xz pretended to kick wyb, but accidentally kicked wyb's thigh on the back, because there is mud on the upper part and there are some marks left, xz immediately said I was sorry to wang laoshi and cleaned him— but he was still beaten by wyb. yibo chased him with a sword for 5 minutes.

53. they discovered various strange ways to reduce swelling. once they discussed on the set how to reduce swelling faster, wyb asked xz “zhang ge have you tried taking a hot shower in the morning?” xz seems embarrassed to say so. wyb nodded wildly with a very understanding expression.

54. Continuing from the previous entry, the two of them were doing some exercise on the set— like raising your legs or something. The funniest thing is to lose face for swelling, there is an action to pull the ear on the same side upward with one hand. With the other hand, press the side of the face that stretches the ear, and push it toward the ear. Pushing in one direction, the two people were pulling each other in the corner, screaming in pain. It's all because the other party used too much force.

55. they are very concerned about each other’s appearance in the camera. shoot After Jin Dan's cut, the two of them watched the replay on the monitor together. but xz said that Yi Bo’s face was not in the best condition and it would be better to take a rest. Wyb is applying make-up next to him and listening.

56. when preparing for wyb’s birthday, xz was the first to say yes. xz wanted to give him a racing suit, wyb explains to him that the racing suit is specially customized by the team, so it wasn’t sent as a gift. xz looked a bit disappointed.

57. continuing from the previous entry, the helmet given as a gift was not there was delivered to the crew. After cutting the cake, I gave the first piece to xz, and said “zhan ge the helmet you gave me is placed in the C position at home. It is a lucky helmet and should be kept well.” xz smiled happily.

( c position means in the center, whatever or whoever is in the c position is the most important )

58. even when we they shooting for several days at night, there were two of us. when they stay quiet and don’t fight, they quietly get together and play with their hands. they take the opportunity to show the other person something interesting from time to time.

59. wyb once felt very uncomfortable while putting on makeup and couldn't hold it anymore, so the producer rushed me to the hospital. xz was filming a solo show. He heard that and made a phone call to ask wyb about the situation.

60. wyb will recommend clothing brands to xz and gave him a vx purchasing business card.

61. there is a period of time when two people will check each other out before putting on makeup. they will check hairline and then laugh at the other person and say who will be bald before you are.

62. wyb likes to eat pasta, garlic, coriander and the like.

63. one time xz fell asleep on the chair, lying on his back and mouth is a little open, then wyb surrounded him from all angles and took at least a dozen photos. but xz later found out and took them away, he deleted them all.

64. xz had some very hard scenes, crawling on the grass and had to use a blower for more than an hour, and his hands were covered with tiny wounds. His eyes were also inflamed. When the director asked him, he said it was okay. As soon as he saw wyb the first sentence he said is "I'm so miserable, lan er gege"

65. wyb seems to like the title Yiling Patriarch very much. he thought he didn’t have a domineering nickname, so he gave myself the nickname Gusu Wu Enemy. he told xz to say it, xz rolled his eyes and never said it.

66. the behind-the-scenes team gave each of them a GoPro to film some scenes, such as meeting for dinner together or playing games or something.

( lol where are the footage from the go pro?!!! )

67. After receiving the article, wyb took a photo and handed it over. It was him. they eating chicken together in the room and listened to the editorial team for seventeen minutes. In the video, wyb said xz more than 20 times.

68. xz told wyb that if he wants to raise a dog, it is best if he it’s obedient. It must be a large dog, if you really have a dog, name it Lizi. wyb said with a disgusted face that the name was not domineering enough, xz immediately retorted, he said it was called Red Haier, and then started fighting with his teeth bared.

69. wyb is actually very cold-faced and warm-hearted. He once helped to beat the board. He noticed that the field attendant was shaking a bit and was about to fall over after being there for too long. he immediately called cut and told the director to let the staff member rest. later wyb assistant also gave him water.

70. xz touched wyb’s Adam’s apple and compared it with his own, and was shocked and surprised, then gave wyb a thumbs up.

71. in the scene where the donkey was being led, xz was sitting before filming officially started. he was singing the theme song of Journey to the West on the back of a donkey, wyb also sang the vocals with him

"You carry the burden"

"deidei"

"I'm holding the horse"

72. xz likes to eat Japanese food, there are two Japanese food restaurants in Hengdian and many people have been there. If you don’t have time to go, the most popular place to order takeout is He Feng Na.

73. continuing from the previous entry, one time wyb rushed to announce that there was someone returning to the group and brought a bag full of bread to xz. I heard it was almond croissant.

74. the motorcycle helmet xz sent to wyb still has a stamp on the top of the head. there is a hand-painted lion drawn by xz himself, based on Simba’s drawing. xz showed the manuscript to wyb on the set, and wyb was very satisfied.

75. there are many scenes that are not good-looking during the shooting. the producer told wyb privately on the set not to watch this. they said they are all confident that the effect of the finished film will be very good. wyb said he didn’t mind, but was a bit in a low mood that day. when xz found out, he kept hanging around him and making fun of him to make him happy.

76. Lan Wangji’s hair once when shooting in the farmhouse, his crown ( headpiece ) is really a bit high, higher than a haystack, and he had to wear it several times. xz complains that wyb is not tall enough to wear a headdress.

77. Once when we were filming a group scene in the inner hall of the Chang family, xz and other actors performing the lyrics, wyb was always there to pick him up.

"interesting

"not interesting"

"In terms of thick skin, I am second"

"You are number one"

"wyb shut up!"

78. It’s the same scene, there’s always something fishy about wyb. there was nothing fishy about it, and it made two people laugh again, so much so that the director asked them to pinch each other's faces and pinched each other's arms and legs.

79. Following the previous one, xz’s mantra will change in the next two days OK—there must be something fishy about this blower. I’m eating eggplant in my lunch box today. There must be something fishy, there must be something fishy about Lan Wangji, and then he starts to act again.

80. In one scene, he was injured and was recuperating in an unknown place in Yunshen. , xz did a good job of subduing it and said wyb’s first sentence was “Wow xiao laoshi is very hot today."

81. The director is from Hong Kong and is fluent in Mandarin but standard. Once he said something quickly through the microphone : "The chicken is going to lose its wire, so be careful when having sex." xz and wyb went crazy after hearing this and burst into laughter, and then made the director laugh too and explained what he said, It was actually "As long as you are wearing a wire, you must be careful in everything."

82. sometimes when the two people are photographed looking at each other, because they are one beat by beat, the emotions must be connected, xz told wyb that if you're afraid of laughing, don't stare into my eyes, look at the place between my eyebrows. When the filming started, wyb stared at it and deliberately made cross-eyes.xz burst out laughing and had to apologize to the director immediately.

83. one time they probably watched a horror movie together. The next day when they arrived at the set, they danced and imitated the other actors. Wyb looked scared, but Wyb just sat on the side and smiled helplessly.

84. wyb often says wow, yeah yes yep and the like catchphrases, later xz also started to say yeah yes.

85. wyb liked to twirl xz’s flute, but accidentally lost it. he will the make amends to XZ like the ancients did.

86. there was a scene with three people, and wzc was also there. the whole time the two were talking about random little topics and even pointed swords at each other. Wzc tried several times to join in but couldn't get it in, so he just stood there bored.

87. later, when they saw wzc stopped talking, they thought he was angry. they started teasing him together again, wzc became furious when he was teased and made a loud noise. he complained to the director and said they were childish.

88. when the two people conduct dual interviews, wyb will wait for xz’s single interview to end. and then go into the business car together.

89. xz, wyb and senior sister have a three-person scene, while waiting for the performance, the senior sister suddenly asked: Mr. Lan is here to see you.

Did Xian only bring Qin and not Bichen? Didn't wait for wyb to react?

Come on, xz and senior sister fell to the side laughing, wyb was very confused

Miao explained dryly, "Aren't you here to play the piano for Wei Wuxian?"

90. When the two of them joined the group, they realized that they both liked songs by girl groups from foreign countries. When that group released a new song, they watched the MV together on the set. xz asked wyb if he could dance after watching it a few times, wyb taught him on the spot . xz said very sincerely, Lao Wang, you are amazing.

91. When other actors are wrapping up filming, they will be given cakes, both of them are just tasting, only wyb gave his first piece to XZ who ate it completely.

( so this is more like, with others, they will just take a bite. but when wyb gave him, xz ate it all. )

92. wyb's posture was very upright when he was hanging in the wire, Wu Zhi commented that there are times when it overturns, usually with waist control. If the body is not well controlled, it will easily become distorted. Although xz laughs at him every time, he will still always praise him. He said wyb is a kid from Springfield Flower Kindergarten, a friend that needs to be praised every day.

93. When filming Yi City, the scene required smoke machines to create fog. It feels like the field manager is waving a prop stick behind wyb. wyb asked xz, do you feel it? xz said what do you feel? wyb said let me go. xz's expression is speechless.

94. When filming the Baifeng Mountain section, wyb made an action where he needs to hold xz's wrist tightly to make him concentrate, and he will be very nervous when shooting. When he entered the scene, they took a few close-up shots in order to cut the scene. Director 1 after saying ok, xz rubbed his wrist and said Lan Zhan, you hurt me, wyb said can i see?

95. the people were waiting on the roof during wyb’s birthday , xz hummes and look at the stars one, two, three and four connected in a line. later wyb also sang along in a low voice.

96. filimg the heavy rain scene on Qiongqi Road. because xz has experience he told wyb in advance how to keep warm and prevent colds, tell him first that when the time comes, ask the assistant to get a blanket to soak up the water and prepare ginger soup or hot water. etc.

97. but he still felt a little bit uncomfortable the next day after wyb finished filming. he had a nasal sound when speaking. If his assistant brings medicine, xz will wonder if this cold medicine will have some antihistamines, which will make you sleepy and... are there any details such as whether the medicine will cause allergies?

98. In fact, there was another time when the forehead ribbon was removed and the hands were tied, the costume teacher wanted to tie it up. wyb said I would try it, so he did it on purpose and tied it tightly, then raised his hand and pulled it up with xz's hand, said very childishly, "Wei Ying, look"

99. One scene was in a teahouse, and it was about hearing that Wei Ying was not well. Lan Zhan put down the water glass heavily. Wyb once mentioned to the director if he wants him to silently crush the cup to express your mood? The director and editor after discussing the drama, said they felt that the emotions have not reached that level at this time.

100. The director mentioned in the drama that 16 years later Lan Zhan saw Wei Wuxian’s smiles will change unconsciously, wyb also said deliberately “then when I see Brother Zhan’s sweet smile, I will follow him (laughing)”

101. they spent the Dragon Boat Festival together on the set, and also had sweet and salty rice dumplings. they had an argument xz said that Chongqing people basically only eats salty rice dumplings, wyb must follow him. Just tell me sweet rice dumplings are delicious. I was noisy and wyb suddenly said he will also eat salty rice dumplings, and then he will be beaten by xz and said that you insist on following me. wyb only laughed.

102. There happened to be a night show on the Dragon Boat Festival, and the producer specially bought it rice dumplings to eat together. The two of them had a meal on the set, xz had a video chat with his parents on WeChat. He especially introduced wyb to them as ttxs’s super awesome host. wyb said hello obediently, and then after xz finished the video, he slapped him with his sleeve.

103. xz once asked wyb how to make one eye flow first when crying, wyb smiled evilly and said that I have great control.

104. Taking pictures of Hantan Cave, the temperature inside the cave is very different from that outside the cave and it’s nearly ten degrees. Be white clothes are easy to see through and can be irritated by cold water it’s easy to expose your flesh and bulge. If xz finds out, he whispers to wyb for a while and then went ashore to find the staff. When we he came back — the two people had an extra layer of white coats inside.

105. wzc often rolls his eyes like Jiang Cheng when seeing the two of them fighting, xz once caught him and said it he was against him. “Jiang Cheng, you don’t help me” wzc just said that “I will not interfere with the affairs of the two of you.”

106. Let’s talk about wzc first. There was a scene where wwx was beaten up while filming wzc. During the break, he said that wwx was beaten badly enough and was beaten by xz.

107. In Xuanwu Cave wwx went to pull up the collar of Lan Zhan’s clothes, maybe he used a bit too much force to make the area under wyb's collarbone red. After the cut, wyb pulled it open and showed it to xz to accuse him. xz said he was right and said I'm sorry, but then said it's because your skin is too fair and tender. Showing it, wyb replied that it was because he was young. 😂😂😂😂

108. When two people are filming a fight scene, they will feel a little uncomfortable. they didn’t want to injure each other such as being hit by a prop or scratched. Once xz was at front door of Chang's house bumped against my knee, and it turned blue instantly, and wyb asked the assistant to bring some muscle tape from his bag and help him apply it himself.

109. Continuing from the previous entry, xz will also bring his own band-aid, the kind that is cartoon style, including Little Yellow Duck and SpongeBob SquarePants.

110. When they were in Guizhou, they made an appointment to get up in the morning and go for a run but did not persist for a few days. xz complained about wyb in the morning and when he arrived at the gym, I was still wearing the hotel slippers.

111. There was one scene where we faced an enemy together in the woods. While waiting for the set, xz started singing and their backs were to each other. wyb while listening, he scratched the ground with his sword.

112. To shoot in the hanging cliffs, xz actually has tools on the ground that is easy to pull. The director didn't have any requirements when looking at the location. The two kept holding hands, but never let go. After a while, xz has been put down to the ground, wyb stopped his hand and looked at his palm, It took five or six seconds to stand up.

113. In that scene, a close-up of Lan Wangji’s face was also shot. Yan asked xz not to leave yet and help Yibo pick up his feelings. xz is looking up at wyb, the director is using a microphone to narrate the introduction and roughly speaking

"Wei Ying broke free and was falling. He was trying to prevent him from falling.

“You fell with me"

"He has no desire to live anymore."

"He is the most important person to you. For the first time in your life, you feel panicked”

"You are desperate, you are regretful"

"There is no more Wei Ying”

114. wyb did a great job, it took only two or three shots to pass. The staff members were so empathetic to him that they choked with tears.

115. but xz just stood under that cliff background and kept looking up at him, he was obviously crying too.

116. Continuing from the previous entry, after this scene, the makeup teacher will wipe off their tear traces. There is a path between the two of them. They kept looking at each other and said nothing.

117. The sleeves of Lan Wangji’s costume have always been very wide. He once did a dance move of doing cartwheels on the spot, and it was so smooth. xz was working very hard to cheer him on and compete with him.

118. When wyb seems to have pharyngitis, xz has asked him, and wyb said it usually happens. xz for some time then replaced his green tea for medicinal tea, wyb asked why the taste was different, xz pointed at his throat “It's good for you here”.

119. Continuing from the previous entrt, when wyb takes cold medicine, xz specially tells him to drink more warm water for 2 days and stop drinking my tea.

120. We sang together in the days after we came back from participating in a variety show. they repeat this sentence, child, you are the best. then later in the one-shot scene of wyb, xz would sing wyb, you are the best.

121. strings of Lan Wangji’s qin are specially made and are better than ordinary string so it will be flexible. One time when he was bored outdoors, he was playing with strings. After a while, he became quiet and pulled XZ aside to whisper. xz after listening, immediately raised his hand to signal to the director: Director Wang Yibo played the strings and broke one! He broke the prop!!! Wyb is behind him and the man who was caught got angry and pushed xz on the shoulder.

122. One time wyb was spraying sunscreen, xz saw it and asked him to help spray. wyb held the sunscreen to xz and said "呲呲 "呲呲——" but I didn't press it on purpose, xz Look at him with an expression like "Are you sick?"

123. The scene where Lan Wangji agreed to buy the rabbit lantern, xz smiled brightly, and wyb smiled back. Then after cut he was told, "Yibo, don't smile so big."

124. xz accidentally said this in front of the behind-the-scenes camera that after he and wyb finished work, they will go to see a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner for massage because both of our waists hurt.

125. On the set, they lifted up each other’s hems to see if they were wearing basketball shorts, and they will high five and say “hey man!” they have a tacit understanding.

125. When filming the scene with Jin Ling, XZ asked him his age and learned that it’s actually a month or two older than wyb xz was so shocked that he turned his back. wyb is so young and wants to play the role of an elder, and he still acts so similar.

126. In a one-person interview with both people present, they will tease each other, when wyb teases xz he will obviously look away and smile. On the other hand, wyb will look at him openly and give him a warning look.

127. During breaks on the set, xz would often sing some songs, Korean, Mandarin and English are available. wyb is sometimes next to him and when asked to change songs, xz also cooperated with him to change songs. There is one time he was asked to cut the song after I had just sung a few words. xz was obviously confused. If you can't change the subtitles, just say wyb, have you bought a membership? Changing songs is VIP. It’s a Unique service!

128. The scene where the two people fell out holding each other in their arms started posing on the ground. The director felt that the position where XZ was leaning was too low and he should have raised his head. You can see the position of wyb's eyes, just turn on the microphone, Commander Feng said, "Wei Ying, move higher on Lan Zhan." "No need." “Stand up and move directly." "Come up a little bit, and a little bit higher, yes. "XZ's ears were red after shooting that scene.

129. When they were in the mountains of Guizhou, because it was a real wild place, tge grass and other plants are very tall. When wyb reached the top of the mountain, he asked xz, Do you think there will be snakes here? then XZ said: But Hanguang-Jun, aren't you a master of martial arts? You can just use the sword. Later, xz saw that wyb was really scared, so he used the flute and wiped a circle of grass around him and said that Brother Zhan will protect you even if there is a snake.

130. wyb once took a big bite while eating noodles. he was chewing while looking at my phone, xz “said something: Brother Bo, you are like a hamster eating, and then he changed his mind and said, more like a camel. Have you ever seen a camel eat? How about learning to eat slowly like a camel?”

wyb laughed and then didn't even bother to eat the noodles.

BONUS: wyb’s fingers are very long and have distinct bones. He told xz that his hands and the joints are old and aged. It was because of his training in dancing and some were sharpened by riding bicycles. xz was very surprise said, Lao Wang, your life experience have so many vicissitudes, and then he started a few words, "Until it feels like your wrinkles have the marks of time."

wyb had a question mark face and didn't know what song he was singing.

( I tried to look up the lyrics listed 直到感觉你的皱纹有了岁月的痕迹 and google is giving me “atleast i still have you” by Sandy Lam. but i’m not sure. )

Note: I might go back to this and edit some bits. I’m just in a fake rumor coma and my eyes and brain are aching at this point. 🙃🙃🙃 but i hope you still had fun reading!!!!

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do #accio victuuri translation #NUMBER 17 IS MAKING ME MAD I WANNA SEE THAT SCENE AHHHHHH HOW MANY WERE DELETED (ALLEGEDLY)#some of these i mildly rephrased to better explain the message across

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slayfics · 14 days

Text

You get information from Kai.

Warnings: NSFW, AFAB Reader

1.5k words

“So what’s the situation again?” The guard asked you.

“My agency seems to think Overhaul may have some information we need,” you answered.

“Got it, I’ll look the other way and be down the hall. Do whatever you need to do to get your information. Mother fucker doesn’t have arms anymore so- if ya leave him bruised up, I’ll just say he took a tumble or something,” the guard laughed, tossing you the cell keys and walking back down the hall.

You unlocked the cell door and entered to the sad sight of Kai sitting in a chair staring at the floor. No stimulation was provided by the blank cell walls, and the room was stale with thick air. Enough to drive anyone mad. You almost pitied him.

“Hm,” he hummed looking up at you. “Never expected to see you again hero,” he remarked.

“Guess it’s your lucky day isn’t it,” you said with a wink.

Kai watched as you sultry stalked over to him, sitting on his lap tossing your legs across his.

Eyes dilating, he looked up at you, “You’re still a tease.” He observed.

“A tease? Well that all depends on you, doesn’t it?” You said, seductively running your hands through his hair messaging his scalp.

It was almost pathetic how instantly he reacted to your touch. Body almost purring for you. “Mm it’s got to be hard in here, having no arms, no way to get yourself off,” you cooed down at him.

Kai tried to muster up a growl, but no bite came with it. His body had long been touched starved, his toes already curling with the weight of you in his lap.

“I just want to know some information, if you’re a good boy and tell me maybe I’ll reward you,” you explained.

“Exchanging sex for information? That doesn’t sound heroic, but you heroes always have your own agenda, don’t you?”

“Careful, don’t test me. I’ll sit on that depressed face of yours till you’re suffocated. How would you get me off hmm?” You laughed.

Kai’s eyes widened at your words. How were your words always so vulgar and striking? He was drooling at the thought of being suffocated between your thighs.

The embarrassment he’d been reduced to of rubbing up against his cell mattress left him desperate for any hole, but you- You were the hot new sexy hero everyone had been obsessed with. Having you here in his lap after being trapped in the solitude of his cell was having his dick throbbing and begging, pre-cum already leaking.

“So, what’s it going to be then? Going to tell me what I want? Or do you need to be convinced first?” You asked.

“Why don’t you tell me what you want to know first, and I’ll let you know if I can help you,” he spoke.

“I just need to know if it’s true you still have some of your quirk-destroying drug hidden somewhere,” you explained.

“No, all that was taken by the police long ago.” He lied.

Your hands pulled at his orange uniformed pants, allowing for his aching dick to be set free. Plopping out and smacking against his abdomen. You smirked, “You sure about that little devil?”

Kai’s eyes watched pathetically, secretly screaming for you to stimulate him. Slender fingers wrapped around his shaft, gently squeezing.

The saddest moan you’ve ever heard escaped his lips. “Awe, you’re so pent up. Please tell me so I can take care of you,” you cooed at him, one hand gently squeezing his dick, the other caressing his cheek.

“You’re playing with me,” he said through gritted teeth trying desperately to compose himself.

You bent forward whispering in his ear “Don’t you want to be my toy?”

Another moan, hips rutting into your hand, pre cum slicking the length of this shaft.

“Fuck-,” he breathed out. How embarrassing to be such a mess at your few touches and seductive words. His pride tossed aside, sense of the strong villain he once was shattered. Lust and desperation taking hold. Just fuck him.

Hips thrusting more, he fucked himself into your hand. Your grip tightening. Tits slightly jiggling at his rough movements that bounced you both in the chair.

“So sad to see you so neglected, you want me to finish you, right?” You mewled. “I’d hate to have to stop.”

Kai moaned, lust clouding his brain. Completely forgetting why you had come. Instead, he continued to chase his high. The pleasure was immense and addicting. The dull prison cell melting away into bliss threatening to explode.

Until- you removed your hand. His dick left throbbing and leaking, balls aching.

His eyes snapped to you, desperate for the continued stimulation. Panting, and face flushed, it was a shameful sight.

“If you tell me what I want to know, we can continue,” you reasoned with him, placing a kiss to his bright red cheek.

Kai panted, allowing the reality of the situation to come back to him. “I told you; I don’t have any left.”

“Hmm, well I’d hate for our journey to end here,” you replied, stepping off his lap.

Kai’s eye begged for you to come back. Throwing his head back in frustration he groaned.

“Although I guess it’s unfair to leave you exposed on your own,” you cooed, sliding yourself out of the bottoms of your hero costume.

Kai’s mouth dropped open but only a few whimpers left his lips. God how long had it been since he’d seen a woman. Devoid of any media use, the only thing he had was memories. But now- you stood in front of him. Pretty pussy on display for him. He stared, committing the sight to memory for days to come.

“Come on, be a good boy, and let me reward you,” you sang. Sitting back in his lap. Pressing your heat against his aching dick. Letting out your own moan at his head rubbing against your clit.

Another whimper came from Kai as he watched taking in the sight of you rubbing against him.

“Please~” you urged him. “I want to feel good too, tell me so I can take you inside.”

“F-fuck,” he mewled out. “Check the abandoned restaurant at Omoide Yokocho,” he blurted out. Blind with lust. The fuck did he care anymore, just suck him in. Let him feel your gummy walls.

You placed a teasing finger under his chin forcing him to look you in the eye. “Good boy,” you cooed.

A moment of fear ran through him at the thought of you not keeping your word. Leaving him dick out, leaking and twitching.

But you didn’t- you pushed up and lined your entrance with his head. Forcing him to look you in the eyes as you took him in. Sinking slowly, he pushed through your entrance, slick walls squeezing his dick from the tip to the base.

The feel was euphoric, mind-numbing, leaving him crying out in a pleasureful moan. Hot sticky white ropes lined your walls. His pent-up lust leaving him cumming and twitching inside you all too soon.

“Pathetic,” you mocked him. “I didn’t even move.”

Kai bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut trying to block out your taunts. He knew just exactly how pathetic it was. He didn’t need you to tell him.

“Oh well,” you said standing up. His dick sliding out, cum leaking to his thighs. “Who knows, maybe I’ll need more information from you soon.”

Kai panted, daring to look at you again only to see your exposed pussy once more. The way his cum leaked out of you was sinful. He watched as you clothed yourself feeling his dick twitched again.

“Oh yeah,” you mused as you secured your costume back on. “I can’t have the guard too suspicious so-,” stars hit his eyes as a hard fist came across his nose. The crunch echoing in the cell. Blood dripping down his face.

“If the guard asks- I broke your nose and you told me everything I needed.” You said, kissing his cheek, and pulling his pants back over his dick. “Wouldn’t want you to tell our secret and spoil any future times together.” You winked and slinked out of the room.

“Alright, I got what I needed,” you told the guard, passing him back the cell keys.

“That was fast,” he remarked.

“Oh, I know,” you giggled.

“How much of a mess do I have to clean up?” He asked.

“Why don’t you go see for yourself,” you winked, making an exit for the facility.

The guard entered the room, to see Kai’s newly broken nose. His pants stained with blood and cum.

The guard processed the sight for a few moments before erupting in laughter. “Man, you’re so pent up you came when she broke your nose?!”

Kai eyed the guard with disdain. If only he knew. Yet, at the cost of his pride he lied to keep any slim chance alive that maybe- you would need more information one day.

“Yeah…” Kai answered shamelessly.

sinners: @mintsbubbletea @lalachanya @unofficialmuilover @starieq

mdni banner: @benkeibear

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novacqnes · 1 year

Text

prisoner, prisoner // vi

summary: most within the confines stillwater viewed vi as a seemingly mystical figure— by all except you. thus, when assigned to be her new cell mate you’ll stop at nothing to uncover the truth.

warning: prison? angsty, touch-starved, mentions of blood, wounds, a whole lot of teasing, smut; fingering (vi receiving), bottom vi

pairing: vi x fem reader

word count: 2.7k

a/n: vi’s literally one of my favorite characters and i only have one piece of writing up for her— it’s criminal (no pun intended) also this may or may not be me furthering my bottom vi agenda idk 🤷🏾‍♀️

the air inside of stillwater always had a way of trapping you. heavy and stifling it clung to your skin, mercilessly coating it with dew. although at times it felt more treacherous, seeping its way into your lungs, offering you just the slightest glimpse of your grim future. in many ways it stood in for the steel bars of your confinement, making your situation even direr.

the hallways reeked of something metallic— it could’ve been blood, rust from the decrepit bars, or the scent of pure fear. as you passed by each cell the stench seemed to vary, with some spaces emitting more fear than others. despite this, you weren’t afraid— at least not in the way you should’ve been. you knew your fate, and it involved the red-headed pariah at the far end of the hall.

truly, nobody knew anything about anyone— but there was much mystique surrounding inmate 516. you only knew her name and even that could’ve been up for debate. there wasn’t much emphasis on them, in fact, most of the time you forgot your own. yet within those, it didn’t matter and for as long as you existed inside them you were inmate 601.

slowly, her cell came into view. it looked bleaker than you’d ever imagined. a small, dreary voice echoed rang throughout your mind— and it urged you to turn back. the voice was relentless, it pleaded and cried. desperately attempting to persuade you to fall to your knees before the guards and beg for forgiveness. it only grew louder and for a moment you nearly gave in.

“keep moving 601,” the guard to your left spoke with a low, gruff voice. the other sent a sharp push to your shoulder sending you straight toward the front of the cell. you could feel the menacing smirks grazing their lips, wanting nothing more than to taunt you. after all, it was your fault for ending up there in the first place. this new living situation served as a reminder of it and the purplish bruise under your eye served as a reminder of it.

“on your feet, inmate,” the second guard barked, yet the order wasn’t directed at you. a muscular figure approached the bars, and slivers of fiery red hair emerged from the dark. you could almost make out her face and although you’d seen it numerous times before it was a lot softer than you’d imagined.

vi wrapped her hands around the steel bars, revealing the blood-stained bandages over them. she leaned forward, grayish-blue eyes quickly darting toward your face. after a moment her soft features hardened, allowing for her hard exterior to truly take shape. her eyes bore deep holes in yours prompting a rigid chill up your spine.

she spat, “the fuck is this…?” but no response was given. rather the men laughed at her question, obnoxiously so.

behind you the other guard leaned in, slowly un-cuffing as he whispered, “word of advice 601….try not to fall asleep.” he then produced a set of keys that would open the door to your new reality. the metal emitted a loud creek that traveled throughout the hallway. with another hard nudge, you were shoved into the small space. the hard clanging sound of the bars following suit.

you were left with nothing but the distinct unwelcoming silence that pervaded the cell. vi hardly spared you a second glance. she sauntered back over to the corner, continuing on as if you didn’t even exist. hence, the mystical aura that surrounded her persisted— and you had no way of knowing how to break it. thus you settled for simply chipping away at the tough exterior. with a deep breath, you stepped towards the lower bunk.

“what are you doing?”

“sitting down,” you chirped. her voice was low and hostile— it took everything in you not to shoot right back up. despite this you kept yourself planted on the flimsy mattress. ignoring the small voice making its way to the surface.

begrudgingly she stepped toward you, “that’s my bed.” the aggression was still present in her voice but you couldn’t help but detect the slight amusement in it as well. and for some odd reason, you found it intriguing— only fueling your curiosity.

“so?”

“…i can’t tell if you’re trying to be brave or just really stupid,” she whispered.

now vi stood just a few feet away yet her presence was stronger than ever. the only source of light was a dim lantern outside of the cell and it allowed you to partially capture vi’s face— and the rest of her. she was notorious for getting into fights but now that you were up close you certainly saw why. her arms and legs were sculpted by hard, defined muscles that seemed to flex without the slightest care. in a matter of your seconds, you’d found yourself completely warped in them and it was vi’s stern voice that pulled you out.

“i heard what you did— that fight in the cafeteria? why?” her entire being practically loomed over you. calloused hands gripped the frame on the top bunk as she bent over to face you. the distance was more than intimidating— it was domineering. it corroborated the long-standing rumors and it only made her seem more like a mystery. yet the longer you looked into her eyes the more you held out hope that your cellmate was more than just a ruthless murderer.

“it was the only way to get close to you.” slowly you rose from the bed, diminishing the already non-existent distance down to nothing. vi kept her arm planted on the metal, caging you in between it. her eyes darted in between yours and her expression remaining unreadable. the air seemed to thicken and for a moment it felt impossible to breathe.

vi’s voice was light and almost condescending. her soft lips to brushed along the side of your ear, “you got yourself thrown in the worst part of this shithole because you have a crush on me? jesus…maybe you are stupi—“

“it’s more complicated than that.”

she smirked, “then explain it to me, roomie.” she turned on her heel slowly ambling along the decaying wall, back over to her side of the room. as much you hated to admit you missed the proximity. it’d been so long since you’d experienced what it felt like to be touched by another person. and although she wouldn’t dare utter it aloud vi regretted pulling away.

“you haven’t heard, have you? most people think you’re some kind of monster or a martyr waiting to die. which is why you’ve been here for so long.”

“what do you think?”

“i don’t believe either,” you admitted. she kept most of her face turned away, thus your only view was the dark, intricate tattoo designs that ran across her soft skin. the longer she stood there the more you wanted to run your fingers over each one. and the desire was persistent— at that moment you wanted nothing more than to touch her. despite your judgment, you stepped forward, fighting the urge to do so.

it was evident that she didn’t trust you and you couldn’t blame her for it. vi had simply existed within stillwater for years but she didn’t really have anyone. the abuse from the guards was relentless and if she wasn’t in fights then she was here— in this poor excuse for a cell. she kept her arms bound to her sides, clenching her fists for dear life. therefore there was no way she was going to open up to you— especially not like this.

“i wanna tell you about how i got here…if you don’t mind?”

“i don’t have anywhere else to be,” she shrugged, a slight smile tugging on her lips. cautiously you moved towards vi once again, joining her on the opposite wall.

“a few years ago some of my friends and i thought we could pull off this heist. the plan was that we’d steal some piltover’s most beloved riches and in doing so we’d become legends— maybe even rich.”

“you can’t be serious,” she chuckled, filling the room with her quiet but infectious laughter. it was something that was so rare that it nearly shocked you. yet the sound was beautiful, sending a swarm of butterflies to the pit of your stomach.

you cleared your throat, “unfortunately i am, my adolescent years were a very dark time for me, alright? anyway, the day comes and i get there, i wait for god knows how long but they never show up. just when i’m about to leave these enforcers show up and they practically tackle me to the ground— i still have the scar. next thing i know i’m detained for a robbery that i never even got the chance to commit.”

“they let you go down for it?” she turned to face you, her breath lightly fanning your cheek. silently you nodded, keeping your eyes focused ahead. you couldn’t shake off the warm feeling that accompanied being under vi’s gaze. it made your conversation feel even more like a dream. but most of all it made you feel safe.

“most people suck, you learn that early. but if it makes you feel any better i wish that i’d met you earlier,” she sighed.

“why?”

“we would’ve come up with a much better plan- and we would’ve gotten away with it too,” she boasted, moving a couple of red strands from her face. you couldn’t help but admire even if it was just for a moment. small, reddish-pink bruises took shape along the sides of her face. despite this, her eyes looked brighter than ever and for the life of you, you didn’t have the willpower to look away— and neither did vi.

“can i see it? the scar?” she asked. her voice, smoother than ever was the only deterrent to your rampant dreams. dreams that consisted of your cellmate in ways that you preferred to keep to yourself. nevertheless, you lifted the hem of your shirt, revealing the entire left side of your abdomen.

“it’s dark, i can't see.” hesitantly you reached for her bruised hand. bringing it to your rib ever so slowly as you searched for the rough exterior of your wound. after a while you let go, allowing vi the chance to roam unassisted. the gesture was small but it brought both of you more comfort than the other would truly know.

“vi, why are you here?” you hummed, leaning into her soft touch as she caressed the skin along your abdomen. her fingers traveled upward, brushing the underside of your tits. the hair along the sensitive skin rose with each slow trace of vi’s fingertips.

“i don’t know y/n,” she whispered. she moved her other hand from her side bringing it to your aching body. despite the same desire that plagued vi’s body there was no hurry for her. she took her time basking in each part of the process.

“how’s that possible?”

“you piss off the wrong people i guess,” she chuckled, an apparent melancholic tone laced in her voice. you wanted to push further, ask her more questions but your mind couldn’t have been further from it. you needed vi more intimately than you’d ever expected and now you had nowhere to run.

“you’re so soft….” vi cooed, running the pad of her thumb over your nipple. she took used the other hand to knead your breast. her movements although minuscule drew shied moans from your lips that shot straight to vi’s core.

you purred, “do you know what that’s like?” she stopped for a moment, her eyes trailing up to meet yours. they glimmered even without the presence of a real source of light. she was desperate and it was so easily detectable just from the way that she looked back at you. she was tired of being alone and you wanted to tell— no show her that she didn’t have to be.

you cupped your hands to the sides of her face pulling her in for a kiss. at first, is was slow, but soon it escalated vi allowed her hands to roam up and down your body as your tongue slipped into her mouth, deepening the kiss even further. she reached for your shirt, roughly pulling it off your head. her lips immediately found your chest, peppering fiery kisses all over your tits. she pulled it into her mouth, cupping it gently as her lips wrapped around your nipple.

“i wanna show you something,” you muttered. slowly you brought your hand to vi’s lower abdomen keeping it there until she gave you approval. with one glance down at you, vi nodded, prompting you to sink your hand into her pants and underwear. the pad of your index finger connected with her clit first, sending a wintry chill up her spine.

“are you sure?” rather than responding she ushered her hips forward, humming at the warm contact. thus you took it as a sign to continue. you drew small circles, applying just the slightest amount of pressure. vi felt as if her entire body was being set ablaze with each part of it experiencing pleasure right after the next.

“i-i need more y/n,” she whimpered, clutching onto you. her hushed moans permeated the room, growing more fervent as you slipped a finger inside of her. low squelching sounds filled your ears the more you continued, pressing upwards. gradually your fingers became slick with her fluids and vi nearly incoherent.

you moved your lips to her neck, running your tongue along the skin. vi wanted to cry out, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d experienced anything like this. it was something so out of her control yet she loved every second of it.

“fuck—“ she choked out, her nails sinking into your skin. her heart was beating rapidly and fresh tears brimmed the corners of her eyes yet you showed no signs of slowing down. you slipped yet another finger into her pussy curling them at just the right angle. you targeted her g-spot wanting nothing more than for her to unravel against you.

“y/n— i’m- i can't.”

“tell me….” you cooed, pursuing a devilish pace. vi could feel her legs slowly losing feeling. her core burned with an insatiable ache that would soon consume her and she didn’t know how to express it.

“….tell me you what you want, violet.” she shook violently against you, burying her face into your neck yet you refused to stop— not until she said so.

“oh fuck— y/n, i’m gonna come.” vi’s cries filled your ears delightfully. she grasped onto your body tightly as the pit in her stomach came undone. fluids soaked your hand as well as the fabric of her uniform. patiently you eased her down from the high, running your arms along the art etched into her skin.

soon after she pulled away, discarding her wet pants before taking a seat on her bunk. she gestured for you to come to sit by her, sliding over to make room for you.

“…just so you know this is still my bed.”

you threw your hands up in defeat, flinging yourself onto the mattress beside her, “i surrender.”

for a while, the two of you sat alongside each other. there was something particularly comforting about unspoken comfort that vi seemed to understand better than anyone. in just a few hours your entire perception of her had been flipped on its side.

now? you had who idea what vi was except for the fact that you had to learn more. yet it wasn’t the things you’d originally set out on knowing, like her crimes or how long her prison sentence was. rather you wanted to learn small things, the parts that most people viewed as pointless. you wanted to know where she was from, her favorite color, what music did she like— if she even liked music?

vi shifted closer to you, her knees lightly brushing against yours as her eyes roamed over you. she leaned in close, pulling your attention back towards her.

“hey, what are you thinking about?” she asked. you turned to face her, bringing your thumb to the side of her face. she gazed back, her eyes holding the same amount of light as they did before.

“even after all of that…you’re still a mystery to me.”

#arcane #vi #vi arcane #arcane vi #arcane fanfic #vi fanfic #vi x female reader #vi x fem reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #vi x reader #vi angst #vi smut #vi fanfiction #vi league of legends #arcane x reader #arcane x female reader

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vibratingskull · 2 months

Note

Love the rut theme! Could u possibly write about Thrawn trying to get through his shift without pouncing on fem reader during his rut. Maybe the crew and reader just think he's under the weather. But once him and reader are alone together at the end of the shift, all is revealed 😜

Rut is my trademark with the breeding kink so... Let's fucking go!

ThrawnxF!reader

Tags : Rut, breeding, fingering, P in V, creampie

You remain straight and silent, just glancing from time to time to Karyn. She glances back at you, as nervous as you are. You nod to each other, with stiff shoulders and eyes wide open you take a sneaky look at Thrawn, seated on his command chair.

Imperial.

Haughty.

Deadly cold…

In fact the whole bridge is tense and stressed. The usual respectful and focused silence is replaced by a fearful and eerie silence, only interrupted by the sound of keys and bips of computers. Nobody dares utter a word and walk with the head low to not, under any circumstances, cross eyes with the crimson gaze of the Chiss.

Absolutely everyone is terrified.

Something about Thrawn is… odd, today. Something emanating from him, bitter and dark, poisonous and toxic. He remains as calm and stern as usual, never raising his voice and remaining polite to everyone even if they are lower in the hierarchy.

But something reeks of danger around him.

His aura is so dense you could choke inhaling it. The atmosphere is terrible on this bridge and absolutely everybody can feel it.

Karyn nonchalantly takes one step to the side to join you.

“What is wrong with the Grand Admiral?” She whispers, tense.

“I have no idea.” You shake your head, “I was not at his side this morning…”

Your different agendas keep you separate from one another. Tonight you only could sleep 3 hours together before you had to wake up and take your shift. As usual he held you tight and you held him back, he was deliciously warm and his embrace infinitely soft, even if it might have been tighter than usual… You actually had some difficulties breathing with how squeezed you were. And you had a hard time escaping his grasp, even deeply sleeping he held down to you, keeping you pressed against his large chest.

“You really have no idea?” She insists, “Because he screams of menaces right now, he clearly is pissed off!”

“Yeah, I know!” You grumble, “But I have no idea. I didn’t even know he could get pissed off-”

“Who could get mad?”

You both jump out of your skins at the sudden deep melodious voice rising right behind you. You spin towards Thrawn, your nerves in a wrack. He remains still, the back straight with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes focused and incredibly sharp. In some way he managed to teleport from his command chair to behind you without making a single sound.

You gulp.

“Nobody, Grand Admir al.” You mumble.

He looks straight into your eyes with an indecipherable expression, making your legs like jello. He is as stern and inexpressive as usual, but something in his eyes makes you tremble and teases your survival instinct.

“Keep focus on the mission, limit the unnecessary discussions.” He finally let out after staring at you for an uncomfortable moment.

“Sir, yes Sir!” You both respond.

“Captain (F/n), follow me.” He orders almost nonchalantly.

Obedient, you follow your Grand Admiral in the long corridors of the Chimaera, wary of what he has in mind. You raise your gaze to observe the back of his head, his shiny blue-black hair slicked back perfectly, his thick neck on his large shoulders.

He is so tall…

You notice this is neither the way to his office or any Command room.

“Hum…” You start, unsure “Grand Admiral…? Thrawn? Where are we going?”

“Please follow me.” He simply responds, unbothered but still emitting that murderous aura.

Are you in trouble?

“Is everything alright?” You insist.

He stops and turns back to you, pressing a button to open a door.

“Please, enter.”

You look at the room.

This isn’t a room, but a broom closet, small and dark.

“That's a closet.” You tell him, like he didn’t realize it already.

He slowly, oh so slowly inhales, eyes fixed on you, devouring you with his burning crimson orbs, his nostrils flaring.

The message is clear : enter.the.fucking.closet.NOW!

You shudder and stand to attention by pure reflex before entering the closet hurriedly. Why does he want you inside a closet?

You feel his imposing presence right behind you, his massive body making the closet even more claustrophobic. You feel him pressing himself against your back, his hands snaking their way on your body.

“Finally…” He lets out a growl.

The door closes back on you with a shush and he immediately passes his hands under your jacket and shirt to grope your tits in his large palms.

“Thrawn! What the-”

“Shhhhhhh. It is alright, Ch’acah.” He cuts you, “Let me have my fun, enjoy yourself.” He peppers kisses all the way on your neck before licking it from shoulder to jaw. He kneads your breast while pushing you against the wall, pressing himself in your back.

“Goddammit, Thrawn!” You spit, “Would you at least explain yourself?” You try to say under all of those caress

He breathes deeply, like he was deeply impatient and… needy. You gulp as you feel the hard wall of muscle that is his body against your softer one, he is so tall and large, shielding you from absolutely anything and everything. Your cheek and body are pressed against the cold metal wall while he massages your breast thoroughly. He dives his nose in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent deeply with a satisfied sigh.

“I need it, Ch’acah.” He breathes, “It is irrepressible. I cannot help it…”

“But… What are you talking about, blast?!”

“I am in rut, Cheo Vir.” He sucks the sensitive skin of your neck, working to leave love bites, “I need you… Terribly.”

Rut?

He never spoke of that before, you never knew he had such mating cycles!

What the fuck, why nobody speaks on that damn ship?!

“I can make it really quick, do not worry.” He continues, his hand traveling south, “I will not take too much of your time, but I need some relief urgently.” He explains.

His hand reaches your pants and pushes past it to scoop your sex over the fabric of your panties, making you yelp at the warm sensation.

You gulp as his fingers hook your panties to slide it to the side and trail your slit. You stifle a moan, but nothing escapes him.

“Hmm. You are already wet.” He notes, satisfied, “This situation seems to excite you quite well.”

“Shut up!”

You squirm and protest but deep down this utterly baffling situation is really exciting, locked in a closet with your fiance, your superior no less, to do unspeakable things!

Utterly depraved.

And madly exciting…

He chuckles darkly and kisses your cheek.

He trails up and down your folds, probing your entrance before entering you with a finger. You feel yourself tensing up at the intrusion, but your body welcomes him easily. You yelp uncontrollably as he hooks his finger inside, knuckles deep he caresses and scratches at your Gummy spot expertly, biting your neck. You let out a strain of strangled moans, trembling in his arms as he starts purring, a low, animalistic sound vibrating in his throat and chest. After giving sweet attention to your G spot, you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second, so much he can push a second finger inside and stretch you wide and good.

He scissors and fingers you thoroughly with a dexterous hand, you feel your wetness soaking your pants. He hums approvingly.

“You will soon be ready at this rate.” He praises, “I always appreciated your… eagerness on the subject.”

You hiss in response, embarrassed. Was it your fault if he had such an effect on you? That he could command your entire body with a single finger? Melt into a puddle of nerves with a single command?

He fingers you nastily and hard as you try desperately to remain calm and contained, refraining from moaning too loud to not be heard, something he seems to take offense to.

He accelerates his ministrations, teasing your clit at the same time to make you melt. You tremble in his hands, legs like jello you’re actually convinced you’re about to fall.

But Thrawn holds you firmly, an arm around your waist, fingers dug in your flesh to keep you standing on your feet while his other hand is driving you absolutely crazy. You bite down your lower lips to not let escape any sounds, to his discontent.

“Will you not sing for me, sweet thing?” He asks, nibbling your ear. “Will you not scream my name?”

You feel how soaked your pants are, completely drenched in your essence, spoiling the fabric.

“So-someone could… hear us…” You manage to say between pants and gasps.

He very obviously accelerates his caress when you open your mouth, trying to have you moan loudly for everyone to hear.

“Good.” He breathes, “Let them all know.”

As a sentence he pushes another finger inside you to caress every nook and cranny of your pussy, no secret spots are left untouched, rigorously teased and caressed while he flicks your clit expertly like he knows you love.

Because he knows your taste so well.

He made it a point of honor to learn what made you scream desperately in bed and have no qualms torturing you with his knowledge, making you come again and again…

You feel all your blood rushing to your cunt, puffing up your fluffy walls of tender sensitive flesh until your pussy convulses around his fingers, clenching furiously at your orgasm suddenly, like you were struck by lightning.

You keep your mouth shut so hard it is painful as a long moan rumbles in your throat, only for his ears.

He tuts.

“Oh no, sweet thing. That is not what I want.”

He gives a last flick at your clit and slides his fingers out, to your relief.

Your relief is short-lived as he opens your pants and slides them down to your knees with your panties, leaving you bare cunny exposed to his crimson gaze. He kneels down to kiss it tenderly, give it some licks, tasting your wetness while purring. You mewl again, the remnant of your orgasm still rolling under the touch of his lips.

He kisses it loudly one last time and stands back up. You shudder, hearing the sound of a belt. He grips your hips and pulls them towards him until you can feel his hard, warm, long and girthy erection against your bare butt.

“You will give me what I crave, Ch’acah.” He lets you know.

That is not a proposition, not even an order.

That is a certainty.

He wants you screaming his name desperately.

You may have not noticed, but he did.

How some of your male colleagues look at you…

But that is his fault, he wanted your relationship to remain private.

He should have known that someone as precious as you would make heads spin all around!

Time to correct this mistake and let all those men know you are taken by your Grand Admiral.

He brushes his girth against your soaked folds gently, coating it nice and well before pushing it inside in one go. Your breath is cut at the sudden invasion. You are completely stuffed, filled like a decadent cream puff.

Usually you see a noticeable bulge when he enters you, he is just so tall and large after all…

He does nice circle motions with his hips to get some frictions while letting you adjust to his massive side.

You take a deep breath, trying to welcome him fully in your tight little pussy. But that is always such a challenge! He is just too massive!

“Relax, cheo Ch’acah. I do not want it to hurt.” He says almost mockingly.

You greet your teeth, feeling your inner muscles slowly loosen around his cock. You pant as he sits fully inside, weighting on your lower stomach. You breathe through your nose, trying to accommodate him.

“You squeeze me so well, sweet thing.” He lets out in a hiss, “Your little cunt is the perfect fit for my cock, like you were made for me.”

You feel his thumbs caressing your hips as you slowly relax.

But you can feel his impatience bubbling under his skin, he wants to pound you right now!

But he is merciful enough to let you adjust to him.

When he feels you are ready he gives you one single shallow thrust before starting to fuck you hard. He goes all in with powerful, devastating thrusts leaving you utterly breathless. This time you cannot refrain from moaning and mewling, the obscene sounds escape your mouth inadvertently as he rams into you mercilessly. He hits your cervix easily with his length, the pain melting in the pleasure you’re feeling. You whine out loud under such assaults on your sensitive flesh, only hearing his purring in response. He hits and brushes every single intimate spot with such ease it is almost ridiculous, but it gives you so much pleasure in return, you feel your legs threatening to give way under you at any moment with such shockwaves spreading in your limbs. But Thrawn holds you firmly, not hesitating to press himself back against you, compressing you against the wall for support.

He manages to slide his hand between the hard wall and your body to resume playing with your pearl to maximize your pleasure. Your hips jolt away at the touch, it is just too much for you, but he weighs on you to maintain you still and force you to endure the pleasure he is giving you.

You will take everything he offers.

He chuckles in his mind, him who took you tenderly all those times, making sweet love to you…

Today he wants to fuck!

He flicks and rolls your little clit in his skilled fingers, making you cream all around his girthy shaft. His other hand doesn’t need to hold you anymore and comes intertwining your fingers with your hand on the wall. While he bullies himself inside of you he kisses your neck, cheek and temples delicately, like butterflies on your skin.

Such a contrast with the raw strength he uses to fuck you…

He peppers kisses here and there, purring in your ear, whispering sweet nothing, enticing you to be good for him, to take him whole.

And mostly to take his load inside of you.

Because he has one very precise objective today.

To breed you.

To fuck you until you get round with his child.

That’s what a rut is for.

He took rut suppressants during all those years, but he waited long enough. He wants a child, several even, a legacy in this tortuous universe, a last gift to the Ascendancy if he ever failed his duties towards the Chiss.

And it would send all those idiots men dancing around you a clear message!

You will be such a perfect mother for his children, you gave him so much joy and stability in this hostile Empire. You guided him when he was in the dark and doubtful, you will simply be the most amazing mother if you bestow the same kind of patience to his children!

He has no doubt about it.

You will mother his descendants. You and nobody else!

It was more than due time that he fucked you properly, that he makes you his for all eternity.

He wants your legacies to be tied by blood and flesh, to intertwine your fates inextricably for good this time.

He is no monster, he knows you want children. He questioned you on your life goals beforehand and knows well that you desire a family for yourself.

Family that he is more than happy to provide!

He will give you so many children… So many little ones with blue skin and red eyes, but they will have your hair and features.

He just knows it.

They will be the most beautiful beings the universe ever saw, because they will be yours.

He is pondering all those thoughts and desires when he starts feeling your little pussy clenching around his shaft, a sign of your fast approaching orgasm. So he accelerates his thrusts to keep up with you.

You are giving him so much pleasure already, but he wants you both to orgasm at the same time, reaching your highs together.

Like a single being…

This is so intimate for him.

And your desperate moans and uncontrollable mewls are just so sexy and alluring, teasing his rutting instincts even more.

On your end you can’t do anything more than take it like a fuckdoll, on your tiptoes to match his height, you feel your drool rolling on your cheeks and jaw with how dazed you are. Your nerves ending are on fire to be teased so much.

Someone definitively heard you getting fucked in this little broom closet, that is a certainty.

He doesn’t neglect your clit, giving it even more attention. He wants the experience to be pleasurable for you, it will entice you to come back for even more.

“Ha!... Thrawn!” You gasp, on the verge of orgasm.

“I know my love. Come for me, make a mess on my cock, cheo vir.” He encourages.

And with a final deep thrust he pushes you beyond the arcanas of pleasure and a tsunami of pleasure comes to ravage everything, drowning you in such powerful sensations you scream his name.

He finishes with you as he hoped, his cock twitching nervously inside your warm wet cavern, spurting his potent seed inside your glorious womb. He feels your little cunny milking him dry greedily, your own body craving his cum.

He remains pressed tight against you, panting as he slowly goes down from his high, his hand still holding down firmly on yours.

His purring never stopped.

His hand that caressed your clit snakes its way higher to caress the place of your womb tenderly, lovingly, reverently. He kisses your cheek, sliding out of your tight cunny with a hiss.

He loves how squeezed he feels inside of you, and slipping out is unbearable!

You gasp at the sudden emptiness inside of you, already feeling your slick and his semen rolling down your thighs.

“Tssss.” He chastises, “You are already wasting it. But I came prepared.”

You then feel something soft but really cold being pushed inside your pussy, sealing it off completely.

“I defend you from taking it out.” He orders, “I will do it myself tonight.”

He will only take it out to fuck another load inside you, obviously. You are still two different species, you will need numerous tries to finally get pregnant.

But that is okay.

His rut can last a pretty long time, and he will take the utmost pleasure in taking care of you all night long until you end up pregnant.

You pant and stagger backward, but Thrawn is here to catch you in his warm embrace.

“Careful Ch’acah.” He says lovingly, “Did I exhaust you?”

“Yes…” You let out, out of breath.

He delicately pushes a strand of hair out of your face, hugging you from behind.

“Take a shower before coming back on the bridge, you are quite a mess Ch’acah.” He lets you know with a satisfied tone.

“Who’s fault is that ?” You bite back with your usual sass he loves so much.

“I will take responsibility for this everyday if you wish for it.” He kisses your temple with a chuckle, hugging you tight against his beating, loving heart.

He buries his nose in your hair to breathe in your delicious scent, already feeling the rut coming back…

He will have you all night long to appease his instincts, he just has to modify your agenda.

He is the Grand Admiral after all…

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay, @obbicrystaleo, @germie2037

#thrawn smut #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #fanfic #vibratingskull

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setsugekka · 10 months

Text

『atarashī 』 ; 06

❝ fixation ❞ | mlist ｡

student!hongjoong x fem!reader, husband!yeosang x fem!reader — drama, dark romance, mystery, heavy sexual content [4,7k wc] ch cws: smut, bad decisions (as usual), a whole lot of lying and pretending and wishful thinking.

The elevator in your building is broken, because of course it would be at a time like this.

After a night like this one.

Late at night or early in the morning—it depends on who you ask, and from whose perspective—you trudge up the stairs with burning muscles and wobbly legs that are barely capable of handling the weight of your body atop them. Your back is sore, head pounding and all of it only slightly quelled by the hot shower you took before making your exit.

No soap used, on account of not wanting to smell of it.

It feels like an endless path you're forced to take. Up, up, up towards whatever it is that awaits you inside. Your mind swims with the thoughts of everything that has transpired in such a short amount of time; the culmination of so many things, all twisted and fucked up in their own, particular ways. You think of Yeosang, wonder how he's spent his night.

Think of Hongjoong, the way the feeling of his touch still lingers on your skin all over. Attentive and wanting and nearly obsessive in yearning to feel your body under his.

You can't ever see him again.

A situation that will have to be dealt with tomorrow morning. For now, this particular situation at hand. You slide your key into the lock, twist it open and slowly step inside. Kick your shoes off, look down at the destruction of your tights and try not to think about the painted nails that ravaged them to that point. You drop your bag by the door, not bothering to even dig your phone out.

Your husband is found lying curled up on the couch with his phone just beside his head. No doubt wracked with guilt, tiredness, and worry in trying to contact you. The sight of it only makes you feel that much worse.

It awakens him though, your entry. Slowly coming back into consciousness with messy, black hair tossed about his head and face as he slowly sits back up and looks over towards you. Once his eyes meet yours and he becomes awake enough to put the pieces of your return together, he springs to his feet and hurries towards you with arms out. Curls them around you in a tight embrace. You've never seen him like this, so distraught.

"My God, I was terrified something happened to you." It did. "I kept calling and calling and I couldn't get a hold of you." I was busy, in bed with another man. Someone who wants me unabashedly for the simplicities I have to offer him. "When Seonghwa finally contacted me and told me you were safe...I wish you had just told me you were with him, I would have left you alone."

Eyes shutting tightly, you meet Yeosang's embrace with just as much longing, nestling your face into his shoulder and staring out into the emptiness ahead of you—mind elsewhere. Mind still partially with someone different.

With hands placed atop your shoulders, Yeosang pulls you back and away from him; looks you over as if studying you in such a peculiar way. It drives up the worry in your stomach, the concern of being found out. That somehow he will know, smell the remnants of another man on your skin, in your hair. Know where it is that you've been and what you've been doing while he's been here all night, worried sick about your well-being instead.

Part of you—the nasty, vindictive side that hates everything that your husband has put you through lately and over the years—thinks him deserving of it, in some ways.

Yeosang's hands come up then to cradle your face. Suppose whatever it is that he had been looking for not being found, if evidence of unfaithfulness was on the agenda, because he looks at you with the utmost softness. Kisses you lightly on the lips, tells you that he loves you. All things that you know and have heard before. Until...

"I'm sorry," he whispers against your mouth, eyes closed and shuddering with the trickling of remaining terror of potentially losing you. "I'm sorry about everything, about pushing you so hard about having a baby, about not fucking considering how it was making you feel seriously. I wasn't taking it seriously, I wasn't taking you seriously."

At the tail end of the words, you hear his voice tremble. A sob that threatens to erupt from his chest—you can't remember a time where you have ever seen your husband cry. Not before now. He fights it back, eyes opening to look deeply into your own and you can see the evident sorrow so embedded in every fiber of his being now.

He means it. He means every word of it. Only it's too late, and what you've done can't be undone with the same sort of apologia.

You feel numb, probably a combination of everything. Yeosang kisses you again and you meet him with matched earnest, because you do still love him, and you do accept his apology. You know that he doesn't act maliciously, and purposefully in ways that will hurt you. He's selfish and entitled and in many ways a little bit privileged—something that's hard to break the habit of, feeling entitled to every desire that one may come into.

"If you don't want to start a family, then neither do I," he says, a pained whisper, but you believe him fully. "If it comes down to the choice; having a baby or having you, then I'd choose you hundreds of times, for the rest of my life and again in others."

Would you still feel that way if you knew.

You kiss your husband again, deep and loving and fully realized in how his arms wrap around your body, hold you close, fill you with all of the adoration and acceptance that made you fall for him all of those years ago.

You wonder if the roles were reversed and Yeosang slept with someone else in a moment of weakness, of heartbreak, and devastation—felt so horribly about it and yet still filled with so much love for you—would you want to know?

No, you don't think that you would.

Sleep doesn't find you particularly well the night before work, though you suppose you have no one to blame for that but yourself.

Mind wracked with guilt still, this is just something that you're going to have to live with. You made your bed, and now you have to find a way to make peace with yourself and lie in it. Maybe go to confessional despite not being particularly religious of a woman, therapy likely couldn't hurt, either.

Regardless, it makes for the Monday morning and work day ahead tiring before you ever even get started on the tasks at hand. Slumping into the office chair in front of your desk—papers and folders piled just where you had left them from before—you glance over it all and then allow your head to fall back against the cushion. Eyes closed. Just a couple of moments more before you have to get it all started, you beg.

Your thoughts drift off as you sit there—to Yeosang, cooking dinner together last night, his smile, his love for you. Cuddling up on the couch under a shared blanket to watch a movie that you've both already seen before, and then heading off to bed early with both parties needing to catch up on sleep after the events of the weekend.

Head lolling off to the side just a bit, there's a remaining pain that sits just near the shoulder. A reminder of other goings on from the weekend; face pushed down into the mattress, discomfort in craning your neck while your hips remain pulled up and pointed, drilled into quickly and repeatedly from behind—

Two knocks onto the wooden doorframe and you're just about jumping out of your skin as you're forced back to reality.

Shoulder leaned casually into it, Hongjoong stands in the doorway just across the room. Your eyes pull away from his immediately, though you find that he has no such qualms about keeping his glued to you.

There's a quake to your hand as you reach up to your desk, grab a pen and a file and only glance at him long enough to acknowledge that he's there at all before addressing him.

"Yes?" you say, weak. Pathetic. You make an attempt to steady your voice before trying again. "What can I do for you?"

Hongjoong smirks, doesn't reply immediately but steps inside of your office further and drags himself towards the side of your desk. Closer to you. Much more so than you'd like him to be, all things considered. The door is still wide open, though it's quite a bit early and a good amount of time before the trickling of students will start to line the halls.

You look up at him again, eyes still gazing down at you in your seated position from where he stands. Wholly unbothered by the circumstances at play, though it makes perfect sense as to why that is. What does he have to lose? Who has he betrayed in doing this? The scales are uneven at best.

"The contacts," he says simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It takes you a second to even remember what it is that he's referring to. So much has happened since then. "We talked about it Friday night, among other things."

Among other things, like the fact that he jerks off to the thought of you. Now you wonder if he'll carry on more or less with the knowledge he has acquired since then.

But most importantly is the fact that you have rescinded the offer, though unbeknownst to him. It's not that he is undeserving of them, work and talent not up to par—and in fact, he probably would get far with an extra leg up—but at this point in time the engagements between the two of you have gone much too far, and cannot be saved in any friendly or professional way. You cannot, in good conscious, grant him any professional contacts that you have acquired and especially by somewhat personal means. It's too dangerous—for you, for your marriage, for Yeosang.

Giving your much too young, Akademiya student lover all of the perks of sleeping with the older woman who probably has too much along those lines to offer him. Grotesquely cliché, and you shudder at the thought.

And more than any of that, what he knows even less, is your intention to bring this to the admin board of the Akademiya the moment that he leaves your office and goes to carry on with the rest of his day. Nothing good can come from the two of you remaining in each other’s presence, and while you would like to think yourself a strong enough woman of moral character to say no a second time, should you have been asked only weeks ago and about a first time, you'd think yourself having been much the same.

The best way to not engage in nefarious activities, in many cases, is to remove the option for nefarious activities entirely, and that is precisely what you intend on doing.

It's an unfortunate outcome for Hongjoong, being expelled from the Akademiya on account of your own ethical failing, but suppose there's a snide part of you that thinks him plenty old and mature enough to have weighed the potential risks before engaging with the married owner of Aurelia too.

There's the blood of moral shortcoming on both of your hands. Now, you have to tell him as much.

Inhaling sharply, you pull your attention away from him entirely, pulling open a folder and sifting through the paperwork therein. "I've given it some thought and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with giving out that information after all. I apologize for leading you to believe as much, and I take full responsibility in doing so. We can revisit the topic at the end of the semester and discuss the possibility of it more then."

The words sound strong in conviction. You're proud of that.

Hongjoong doesn't respond, at least not verbally. A bizarre silence finds you instead, causes you to glance up at him and find the amused half-grin that awaits you on his face. That curl of his lips that you know so well. So much of him that you know so well now. You swallow down the lump in your throat, manifested by the on-going fight of pushing back the memories of time shared together with him standing so close to you now.

Something so enticing about him, nearly addicting the way he was able to make you feel that night.

"Is that so?"

You don't reply, watching Hongjoong's hand as he reaches forward towards your own with pen dangling between shaky fingers. Internally, you're begging him not to touch you. Please don't, I don't think my resolve can handle it. I crave you still, even now, after everything.

A lazy press onto the end of the pen that knocks it out of your hand—such a thoughtless gesture.

"Oops."

Hongjoong sinks to his knees.

Barely given any time, any chance to protest before your chair is twisted to the side to face him; hands slipping up under the sides of your skirt and curling at the elastic of your undergarments, pulling them down your legs and then sliding soft palms up the inside of your thighs to pull them apart and make space for him between. Hongjoong's hands curl over and around to the outside of your skirt and settle around your hips, yanking you forward and more towards the edge of the chair—his tongue finds your pussy immediately thereafter.

You melt into the touch all over again. Want to say no, stop, don't do this, but only because you know it's what you should be saying. Your body, the truth of it is that you want him perhaps even more now than the first time, and with the way his fingers curl and fuck into you, it's hard to think anything different for him.

Legs shaking around his head, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and gnaw tightly on it to fight back the sounds that Hongjoong threatens to pull from you. The office door is still wide open, and while no one would be able to see him where he sits knelt below, the debauched twist of your features is likely telling enough.

One hand slides down, cards through his hair as he sucks and tongues at your clit—fingers digging against your walls with just the right repetition—just like when he fucked you. As if he had taken notes of exactly what it was that had you falling apart by his touch.

Hongjoong tugs his mouth away just for a second, the loss leaving you whining in a way that obviously amuses him. Hand never relenting in pumping you full of him in the meantime. "Did you think of me while apart?" He follows the question by a long, firm lick into your pussy, eyes that never for a second fall away from your own. "Did you miss it? Miss the way I touch you? Want more of it?"

"Yes," you whisper, not even giving yourself a chance to reconsider the fact. A single word so destroyed with desperation and desire, slurred at the end as your eyes screw shut and his lips find your wetness all over again.

Only a second or so more, Hongjoong pulls away from you completely; grabs you by the arm and bends you over your desk with the palms of his hands smoothing over your ass from behind. Skirt bunching at the top, exposing you for him as he makes fast work of the front of his jeans.

Hongjoong glides one hand over your ass again, up the small of your back and then settling at the back of your neck. He holds you there firmly, teasing the blunt tip of himself at the entrance of you that's so wet you may as well be begging for him now.

He sinks in, quicker this time than the others. Your body accustomed to him, cunt perfectly shaped around his cock now with how many times you've taken it.

You both moan in tandem, Hongjoong snaps his hips forward a few experimental times to get a feel for the position and whether or not it'll work for him, but in the meantime, your hands come up and around to grasp at the sides of your desk for stability, his name dropping airy and beaten from your lips like it already has so many times before.

"You're perfect," Hongjoong says, teeth gritted through the fervor in how he fucks you. "I can't get enough of you, want your body, want to feel you, it's all I think about—"

The words have an unfathomable effect on your arousal, walls bearing down on him as he buries himself inside of your body repeatedly—hard, pointed thrusts that have you nearly crying out for him if not for the effort you're making to not do that. Hongjoong fucks you like he wants to hear it, wants everyone to hear you. Maybe he does.

"Hard—harder, please, Hongjoong—"

"It's all you think about too, I guess."

He gives you precisely what you ask for, but not before the hand at your neck slips around to your mouth—two fingers shoved inside in an effort to keep you quiet as if it's to make any difference over the sound of his hips harshly meeting the flesh of your behind over and over again.

But the truth is that you've lost the ability to make a rational decision when it comes to him, and the evidence of such lies currently on display across the crumpled paperwork beneath your torso on the desk.

Leaning over your back, Hongjoong cranes his head down closer to your face as you desperately suck and lick at his fingers—imagining it to be his cock, awaiting for the day in which it finally is.

"Gonna let me come inside you again?"

The tone comes off chiding, almost condescending, as if he knows the answer before ever even asking it. A man with you wrapped around his finger—your body is his for the taking—a kind of visceral disgust that lies just beneath your skin at the willingness you have to be his in such a way.

You nod.

"Is that what you want?"

You nod again, faster, more wildly as your own orgasm creeps up on your body. Hongjoong's drives into you become fuller in the final few—pulling nearly all the way from you before sinking completely back inside in a way that makes you feel impossibly stretched open and filled. It only takes a few more before your release rips through your body and subsequently tears his from his own body as well—pushing far and deep with fingers gripped tightly into the skin of your waist as he empties inside of you all over again.

Disappearing from your body, Hongjoong pulls away from you entirely and you expect him to disappear out of your office and down the halls—pretending none of this has happened at all, and perhaps for the best. You turn yourself over and sit yourself up at the edge of the desk and instead are met with the man in question once more as he motions for you to step into your underwear, pulls them up the length of your legs and situates them back in place for you so that he may come up and meet your dry, bitten lips with a taste of his own.

Even still, Hongjoong kisses you like you're the only woman on earth. The only person he has ever wanted, ever needed, like he can never get enough of you. Everything to him, is you.

"I want to see you later," he whispers into your open mouth, fingers dipping into the wet, soiled sides of your panties to toy with the mess that he's left there for the day. "I can't stay away from you. Let me see you later."

Intoxicating. Utterly and unquantifiably intoxicating.

Your hips grind down against his hand, as if you have no control of the fact, the way your body craves him just as much as his seemingly does yours. Hongjoong's fingers once again dig into your cunt—wet and stretched open by his cock just moments before, still fucking you with them as if unable to ever stop.

"Can't," you rattle, barely. Desperately, quickly dissolving all over again into his handling of you. "Need to be home."

"I have to see you again soon," Hongjoong admits, sounding so needy for you in doing so. Still touching, still digging against your walls at just the perfect pace, lips trailing down along the column of your neck as he begs. "I need you. I'm obsessed with you."

"Fuck." You can't manage much more than that, finally giving in to the way he's still touching you, relentless in his desire.

When he finally decides it's enough and pulls his cum-soaked fingers from between your legs, Hongjoong fits them between your lips—slowly pushing them in and out of your mouth and watching the way your mouth and tongue works them as if they were his cock.

"I want to feel every inch of your body, want to have every inch of your body," Hongjoong whispers then as he watches you. The very front door of the theater hall then booms open, alerting the both of you that the beginning entry of student has started, though too wrapped up in your task to even be bothered to avert your attention from him. "I want to make you come over, and over, and over again until you're begging me to stop. It's the only thing I ever want to hear."

When the knock at the door frame of your office comes through this time, you glance up from your chair—situated perfectly, none bothered by the intrusion—Hongjoong standing idly with arms crossed over his chest just at the side of your desk.

"So, like I said, it's something we'll have to revisit closer to the end of the semester," you say calmly, normally. As if nothing has taken place here and between the two of you at all. "Sorry that I can't do more for you."

Hongjoong sighs, and you're impressed by how willing he is to be a good actor about the whole thing. Rolls his eyes, shrugs, and begins to take his leave. "Oh well, it was worth a shot. Appreciate you seeing me about it this morning though, thanks for your time."

"Of course." You glance over at the other student then. "What can I do for you this morning?"

As the student airs his grievances, at the forefront of your mind and disabling your ability to truly be in the moment; the memory of Hongjoong's hands on your body, the warm, hard drag of him inside of you, and the pooling of cum that leaks from between your legs as you sit and revisit the thought.

As the lunch hour rolls around, you're only expected just a little bit down the way.

A small cafe frequented by people from the Akademiya and surrounding business-goers just looking for a quick bite to eat, you're not looking for much more than that either. In fact, your reasoning for escaping the halls of the theater are with something very specific on the agenda, and although you have taken the time to order a warm sandwich and a drink to accompany it, there's something else that awaits you at a table in the corner—someone else—and a conversation that you're none looking forward to as well.

You sit down, small plate and drink atop the polished wood of the table that stands between the two of you. Eyes averted mostly; in shame, in reluctance. Unwilling to take the first step in acknowledging the elephant in the room.

Seonghwa sits at the other side with arms crossed over his chest, only a drink in front of him though it's mostly untouched. A light ring at one edge of it, maybe a sip or two taken. His glare towards you is narrow, not judging exactly, but none pleased with the goings on that he has been involved with, that much is for certain.

You know the man well enough to know that he doesn't wish to be involved in your marital issues more than he already must be on account of being your best friend, but asking him to lie for you? A new low.

"So?" he says first, questioning. He doesn't need to add detail to it, both of you know that. He does so anyway. "Want to tell me why I got a message from you in the odd hours of the night telling me I need to lie to your husband about your whereabouts for the evening?"

No, I don't. "I just needed some time away from him, away from everything that was going on. I didn't want him trying to come find me."

"And where were you, exactly?"

You force a beat of silence, opting out of racing to grant him a response. Anxiety rushes through your veins, manifests as a tremble in your hands as you bring your drink up to your lips. You hope that he doesn't notice it. A tell. A showing of your dishonesty if he knows what to look for.

"Does it matter?"

Seonghwa rolls his eyes at that, exhales heavy like he's already heard enough even though he very much so hasn't.

"Yeah, it might matter." He leans forward, voice dropping to something more quiet. "What happened?"

You're thankful that he appears willing enough to drop the subject of where it was that you spent that evening, though the topic of your husband isn't one that you're any more excited to visit as of now either. Only hours it has been since the last time another man had you for his own.

It's not a topic you have room to forgo though, and you understand this well enough. Unwillingness to divulge any information to your friend most definitely ringing alarm bells in his mind should you insist on doing so.

"He brought it up again, he just couldn't let it go. I flipped out, I just had to get out of there and get some time away from him."

"And how are things now?"

Too good for what I'm doing to him. "Better. Good. We talked when I got home in the morning, he apologized, said he would drop it. He said he would rather be with me than have a baby if that's the choice that it came down to."

A single eyebrow perks up on Seonghwa's face, intrigued by the outcome.

"So that's it? Problem solved?" He pauses, takes a sip from his drink to give him more time to mull it all over. "What do you think? Do you think he means it?"

Problem not solved, things are so much worse than you could ever possibly know. You shrug. "Yeah, I do. He looked wrecked when I got back in the morning, like it all finally came crashing down. Like he finally got it."

Across the table, Seonghwa hums. Leans back into his seat as if relenting to the topic finally. Accepting that it's over and dealt with.

"Are you guys going to be alright then?"

Worry is laden in Seonghwa's tone when he asks, and while this particular aspect of the situation that has manifested so much contempt in your marriage has been laid to rest, now so much more has reared its ugly head and forced its way into the very fiber of your existence. A kind of itch beneath the skin that can never truly be scratched, a dull hunger that can never actually become sated.

An addiction to something new, an addiction to another.

"Yeah, we're going to be fine," you answer back, a practiced calm in your voice that sounds so impressively well-delivered, it scares even you. How quickly we may fall. "I love him. We love each other."

"And when he has to leave again?"

You almost relish the day.

The phone sitting in your bag vibrates then. A part of you wants for nothing more than it to be Yeosang. The better part of you knows that it is not.

"One day at a time," you say, curious tingle of what awaits you trickling across your skin. "We'll just have to take it all one day at a time."

a/n: BIG LOLE. the tragedy of carnally wanting a man who also carnally wants you? how complicated things become and how far we fall when hubby apologizes and then we still wind up banging the other guy...i'm sure that's going to turn out just fine 🤨🤣

#hongjoong smut #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong scenarios #yeosang smut #yeosang x reader #yeosang x y/n #yeosang x you #yeosang imagines #yeosang scenarios #ateez smut #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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