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barbiedragon · 4 months

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Scarlet Bound Chapter 5

Scarlet Bound Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x sister!reader

Rating: T (will be adjusted for each chapter)

Warnings: Canon divergence, Targcest, pregnancy, blood, violent imagery, canon death

WC: 3.5k

Summary: Born in 84 AC, you are the only daughter of Baelon and Alyssa Targaryen and the younger sister to Viserys and Daemon. The Stranger claims Aemma and you deal with the aftermath as your visions grow increasingly intense.

A/N: Sorry it took so long to update; motivation and real life simply got in the way! I’m happy to return to this series and see it through. The tag list for this series is simply too long, so I won’t be continuing it for this series

*comments/reblogs are appreciated

105 AC

As hooves thundered, shields splintered, and swords clashed outside, excitement bristled inside the castle as Queen Aemma had begun her labors. Two opposing yet oddly similar battles were waged. You thought she looked beautiful, glowing with the kiss of motherhood.

“It will be a boy this time, A son for my husband, an heir for the dynasty,” she whispered as you took hold of her hand. A pang of sadness rushed through you; Rhaenyra was a treasured blessing, but a son was valued above all else; how your grandmother had fought tooth and claw against that particular rule. “Men made the rules; men can easily change them,” her voice echoed in your ears.

“I shall hold out hope for a healthy boy then, sweet-sister,” you smiled as Grand Master Mellos entered the room.

Alicent and Aemma’s other ladies lingered nearby as preparations were made. As time passed, worry set in your bones. Surely the babe should be here by now—Aemma was young and in good health. The coppery taste of blood filled your mouth again as Mellos examined the queen.

“Fetch the king right away,” he sharply ordered.

“What is the issue?” You gently pressed a cloth to Aemma’s forehead.

“Nothing you need be concerned with, princess,” Mellos grumbled, and you frowned.

“Do not fret, sweet-sister,” you assured Aemma, trying to keep her calm. You thought of all the babes she had lost and all the Targaryen women lost to the birthing bed—your mother one of them. You often wondered if she would have adored you as much as your grandmother did, as much as Aemma cherished Rhaenyra. You would always carry the sadness of not knowing her, though you hoped part of her spirit lived through you.

Mellos and Viserys whispered in hushed voices, making anger boil under your skin. Aemma grasped your hands, panic prevalent in her blue eyes. “What is happening?” she quailed. Her voice tore your heart in two.

“Shhh, I shall find out. All will be well,” you promised, kissing her clammy forehead before approaching the men. “What is happening?”

“Tell her,” Viserys addressed Mellos, and you could see the worry etched across his face.

“The infant is in breech, and all attempts made to turn the babe have failed.”

“So what is to be done?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

“There is a chance to save the child, a technique taught at the Citadel, which involves cutting directly into the womb to free the babe,” Mellos replied.

“And what of the mother?” you frowned.

“There are times an impossible choice must be made….”

“Viserys! You cannot! She is your wife, not an animal to be butchered,” you hissed, hands curling into tight fists.

“The kingdom needs an heir. Our bloodline must survive,” Viserys whispered weakly.

“Seven hells, Viserys! You have a daughter who can easily wear a crown and be trained to rule, and if the realm is truly opposed, there is Daemon. Our bloodline is not lost. Our dynasty can continue to rule for centuries.”

Your words rolled off his shoulders as he turned from you, approaching Aemma.

“Do not be frightened, my love. They’re going to bring the babe out,” he whispered, holding her hand for a brief moment before stepping away.

Fear rippled through Aemma as she was dragged down the bed and restrained.

“No! Unhand her!” you screeched, eyes wide with horror as Mellos produced the blade.

You rushed forward in an attempt to restrain Mellos, but a member of the Kingsguard took hold of you, pinning your arms by your side and keeping you away.

“Viserys, stop this madness! Stop it at once!” you begged, but it was too late. The blade sliced through Aemma’s belly, blood gushing as her screams pierced the air. By the time the babe was pulled from her womb, your voice was raw and numb from your screams as tears streamed down your face. Another Targaryen woman vanquished.

You wished to twist your body into that of a dragon’s, to unfurl your mighty jaw and tear through the man who tore through Aemma’s body as if she was nothing but a sack of flesh. To dig in your talons and rip him to shreds just as he ripped open her womb. If only you could summon Silverwing to crash through the Red Keep, crumbling the bricks and stones to crush these men beneath them as she channeled your fury.

“Father, I do not t….”

The dagger in your hand trembled just as the rabbit beneath the blade did. Baelon laid a gentle hand upon your shoulder, and you could hear the soft snickering of your brothers behind you—even Daemon, who was meant to be on your side. You had begged to join in the hunt, and your father relented.

“I know it may seem cruel, but you will end her suffering and provide food to the court,” Baelon reasoned.

Your lower lip trembled, but you steadied yourself as you dealt the fateful blow, the stench of blood putrid in your nostrils. The rabbit twitched until all life was drained from the helpless creature, but you would never forget the cold look in its blue eyes and the blood that matted the white fur. It was cruel.

Sobs died in your throat as Aemma’s blood soaked through the white sheets and trickled onto the floor. Her blue eyes were cloudy and glazed, drained of all life, her silver hair plastered to her cheeks. She reminded you of that white rabbit many moons ago, a senseless life lost, and for what? For a bit of food to stuff into well-fed bellies or to produce a son, sending one to an early grave because a daughter was simply not enough.

“Tis a boy, Your Grace. An heir. What shall you name him?” Mellos announced, holding the bundled babe in his arms.

“Baelon,” you and Viserys whispered at the same time. All you could smell was death as Viserys avoided your enraged gaze.

“You’re pathetic,” you spat at him before storming from the room once free of the guard’s punishing grasp. You were certain to have bruises tomorrow.

“I want to see Mama, I want to see Mama,” Rhaenyra wailed through the halls as she struggled in the arms of her maids.

No, you don’t, sweetling. You don’t want to see her in such a state.

The boy didn’t survive the night. Heir for a day, you thought bitterly before a twinge of guilt hit you. Aemma had been ripped apart for naught. Your sweet-sister who so longed to provide a son for her husband. The husband who failed her in every way. Hatred burned in your heart as you collapsed onto your bed. You would never forgive Viserys for this.

Daemon’s warm touch roused you from your slumber. You blinked sleep from your eyes before turning to face him.

“I heard,” he said simply before drawing you close in his embrace.

“Daemon, promise me….”

“I would never let them tear you apart like that. I’d sooner smash their fucking heads in.”

Your grip tightened around him as you buried your face into his chest. He smelled of leather, embers, and sweat.

“How did you fare in the tourney?” you whispered.

“That cunt Cole bested me, fucking Dornish,” he huffed as a chuckle racked through your body.

“Seems we both suffered through disappointment today,” you hummed, trying to make light of the situation even though sorrow seeped through your body.

You found peace cradled in his arms. So long as you were by his side, all seemed right with the world.

When morning arrived, you found yourself in Rhaenyra’s quarters as you helped her prepare for the funeral. Her purple eyes were despondent as you helped fasten the golden buttons on the black dress for her. Silver hair fell in waves around her tiny shoulders. Much too young to be burdened with such despair.

“My mother died when I was just a babe. I never knew her. But you are lucky, little one. You will have memories of your mother to cherish, even on the days when the grief feels unbearable,” you told her softly, stroking her baby-soft cheeks.

“W..will you help me to re…member her? If I forget?” she hiccuped, tears splattered on her face.

“Of course, I will,” you promised.

Her hand seemed impossibly small in yours as she grasped tightly, shuffling along in her shoes to match your pace. Aemma’s funeral was held at the Hill of Rhaenys, her and Baelon’s body tightly wrapped and tenderly prepared by the Silent Sisters. Viserys stood before his guards, hands folded in front of him, head hung in grief. Or shame. Rhaenyra tilted her head up at him, waiting for a response that never came. You frowned before gently guiding her toward where Daemon stood with Laerion. Your son appeared stalwart for his young age; head held high and somber before quickly reaching out to hug his cousin. Jaela remained in the care of her nurses inside the Red Keep. She was far too young to withstand a funeral.

“How fares our niece?” Daemon whispered.

“Brave and strong, considering,” you replied, taking your place by his side as the Septon recited the funeral rights.

The words sounded garbled in your ears as you stared at Aemme’s body on the pyre. All else blurred away, tears welling in your eyes. A jolt surged through your body as the binding melted away, and Aemma’s body became replaced with Alicent’s, her auburn hair forming a halo around her head. You blinked, and the vision was gone. Slowly, you shifted on your feet before turning slightly. Ever the dutiful hand, Otto stood on one side of Viserys with Alicent occupying the other. You noticed her fingers graze gently down the sleeve of Viserys’s tunic, offering him a cloying smile. A bitter taste filled your mouth when he smiled back at her. Aemma was barely dead and cold. How dare he?

Your hands were kept from curling into fists by Rhaenyra’s gentle touch as Silverwing, directed by the keepers, made her way from the pit. How large she seemed, looming over the pyres.

“Come, will you say the command with me?” you asked the small girl as you walked forward. She swallowed hard before giving a nod. You squeezed her hand when it was time.

“Drakarys.” The word rang strong through the air, Rhaenya’s voice bleeding into yours as she said it steadily, following your lead. The flames engulfed the bodies of Aemma and Baelon, reducing them to ashes and embers. You bowed your head, uttering a Valyrian prayer Alysanne had taught you long ago. Our customs and traditions must live on through us.

“Hen sȳndrorro, ōños. Hen ñuqīr, perzys. Hen morghot, glaeson.” (From darkness, light. From ashes, fire. From death, life.)

The words felt heavy on your tongue, a strange feeling akin to lightning, pricking your skin and vibrating through you. The prince that was promised, the prince that was promised, the princess that was promised, the princess that was promised. Words glowing red hot on the cold steel of a dagger. Your knees trembled as you channeled all your strength to keep from passing out.

Somberness fell across the Red Keep. Aemma had been a beloved queen, and the loss of the infant prince quelled even the most hardened of men. You felt drained of all energy as you lay on top of the black fur in your cream night dress. The sweet smell of Jaela’s neck clung to your nose, a lingering remnant of kissing her goodnight. Laerion was tucked into bed with Rhaenyra, comforting her during this turbulent time. Daemon sat at the table, indulging in a robust red wine and succulent duck. You could hardly stomach the smell of food.

“You had a vision at the funeral,” he stated, slicing through the heavy silence in the air.

“I had many,” you admitted, your fingers fanned across your stomach.

“Do you wish to discuss them?”

While Daemon was well versed in the Targaryen lineage and while Daenys’s dream was hailed as the saving of the Targaryen line, he had always been skeptical of the dreamers. He preferred the warriors and dragons, taking theirs by fire and blood. You understood it to run more profound than that. Had Daenys’s prophecy gone unhailed, the Targaryens would have perished with the rest of Old Valyria. Fire can kill a dragon. Nothing is immune in this world. The Stranger comes for all in the end. Even the most powerful cannot escape death.

“I would be willing to listen,” he offered, draining his cup before laying next to you and taking your hand into his own.

“I saw Alicent take Aemma’s place on the pyre, and these words echoed in my head. A prophecy I have not heard before. Kivivo dārilaros,” you explained.

“The prince that was promised,” Daemon whispered.

“Or princess, the word could mean either.”

He chuckled, lifting your hand to kiss your knuckles. “And you thought your Valyrian tongue was not sharp,” he teased.

“I did manage to retain some, nowhere near as skilled as you,” you smiled.

“I will help you master our tongue and research this prophecy. I may have been too dismissive in the past of your….gift. Aemma’s death has weighed heavily on me and made me relook at certain aspects in a different light. You and I are one, and you have always supported me, so I intend to do the same.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. “Touching words, dear husband. Thank you.” You shifted in his arms, curling against him as lips pressed together.

The days passed as the court and realm slowly adjusted to a normal routine. Any time you heard the whisperings of Viserys needing to remarry, you took to the skies on Silverwing to soothe your anger; on the back of your dragon, with the wind whipping your cheeks, brought you peace. Daemon would sometimes join you, as would Rhaenys or Nettles on the backs of their dragons. You found joy in the smallfolk when you would land Silverwing on the city's outskirts, showing the children how to touch her scales as they marveled at the robust dragon.

You spent time with the children, cradling them close. You had taken Rhaenyra under your wing, wanting her to know she was not forgotten as the distance with Viserys grew. How could he ignore his grieving child in such a way?

On a particular afternoon entertaining the children, you heard snickering from your ladies. “What is the gossip at court?” you hummed, glancing up from the wooden blocks.

They quieted down, clasping their hands and glancing down.

“Come now, clearly you found it amusing.” You had not meant for your tone to be so sharp.

“They say King Viserys is to take Lady Laena for his wife,” Aelinor said.

Your eyes widened. “She is merely a child! Surely Rhaenys is against this!”

“Her husband, Lord Corlys, suggested the match to the small council,” Cassella whispered.

The small council? Why hadn’t Daemon mentioned this?

“I see. I would advise you not to pay mind to such rumors; most often, they are created from vapid mouths,” you huffed.

“Yes, princess,” they chorused before attending to their duties.

Later that evening, you took flight on Silvering as the sun set over King’s Landing. The bright pinks and oranges of the sky melting into muted blues and violets. A calm breeze wafted from Blackwater Bay, and you could smell the sulfur from Dragonstone. How you missed your home, mayhaps it was time to return. As you returned to the pits, settling Silverwing as you praised her, you heard the familiar voice of Viserys followed by the lilting laughter of a woman. Curiosity got the best of you as you followed the sounds.

“Dragons have long been part of Targaryen history. They are powerful creatures, but we are fools to believe we could truly tame them.”

“They are magnificent, and you once rode Balerion. How did it feel to claim such a powerful creature?” The flickering light of the flames illuminated Alicent’s red hair, and your blood curdled.

Her arm was looped through his as they studied the form of Dreamfyre, the more docile of the dragons, especially when she slumbered.

“Words cannot describe. I will never forget such a feeling,” he smiled.

“Do you think you might claim another? You are the King, after all. Seems a shame for you not to have one while your siblings do.”

“I’m afraid those days are behind me, Alicent. I’m content wearing the crown and ruling the kingdom.”

“And how wonderful you are at it,” she giggled before kissing him.

You watched in shock as his body melded against hers, drawing her close in a passionate embrace. You stormed off, angry tears streaming down your face before you nearly collapsed from the vision that overtook you.

“Dārilaros!” Nettles cried out, quickly rushing to your side as Silverwing roared.

Threads of green, threads of black, pooled through your fingers as you weaved an intricate web. A storm brewing, seeds implanted, a bloodline ripped in two. Kin slaughtering kin. Blood oozed from your mouth before you choked on it.

A cold sweat broke out across your body as you clutched Nettle’s hand. “I…am fine,” you assured her, though your legs felt like jelly.

“I will help you back to the Red Keep, princess,” she stated, helping you to stand slowly. You leaned gently against her for support.

Once you were safely inside, your ladies prepared a hot bath with rose oil for you to soak in. A daze settled over you, and the soft movement of a cloth across your back roused you from it.

“I’m beginning to worry, dear wife. Your visions have not incapacitated you in the past,” Daemon hummed.

You swallowed, trailing your fingers around the murky water. “Did you know?” You danced around his question.

“Did I know what?”

“Of Corlys’s proposal for the small council….of Alicent and Viserys,” you stated.

A heavy sigh fell from him. “Yes to Corlys, and merely suspicions of Alicent warming Viserys’s bed. That fat leech Otto would love for his daughter to be queen.”

“You should have told me,” you seethed.

“Mayhaps, but your anger seems worse than mine these days.”

You hated that he was right. It clouded your head and twisted in your heart; it was no way to live.

“Help me chase it away, lekys (older brother)?”

A smirk curved across his lips. “It would be my honor, hāedus (little sister).”

As you took Daemon between your thighs that evening, the anger dissipated quickly.

106 AC

Alicent was now Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You swallowed the bitterness and accepted their union, though you disapproved. The shy, young girl you once knew, who had once served among your ladies, was no more. A conniving young woman now stood in her place, undoubtedly molded by her father’s hand. You took small comfort in the fact that Laena had been spared, even if it sparked ire deep within Lord Corlys. The noblemen of the realm did not handle rebuffment well. He turned his vexation on the Triarchy brewing unrest in the Stepstones, holding council with your husband on many a late evening. You would pour them wine, leaving them to discuss matters until dawn broke.

“You should assist Lord Corlys in his endeavors,” you whispered to Daemon as he warmed your bed that evening instead of entertaining the Sea Snake.

“I’m not certain our brother would approve,” Daemon snorted.

“I do not care. His allegiance lies with the Hightowers now. We needn’t support a man who has turned back on his blood. Viserys was never suited to rule…it should have been Rhaenys.” Or it should be you, Daemon. Treasonous thoughts occupied your mind as of late.

“I never imagined to hear such words from your mouth!” he laughed.

Your fingers tangled in his long, silver hair as you twisted his face toward yours. “I have changed, lekys.”

His hand cupped your cheek. “I can see that, hāedus.”

You ran your fingers tenderly through the silken strands, enjoying the feel of them. His hair would be shorter by the time he returned. He studied your face, tracing your cheekbones with his fingertips.

“I suppose it’s time to heed my wife’s words. I shall inform Lord Corlys on the morrow that I’ll join his call to battle.” Though you suspected he had decided to join Corylys after their first discussion.

Your lips crashed passionately against his. A crown of bone. A crown of steel. King of the Narrow Sea. King of Westeros.

Two days later, Daemon departed on Caraxes. You would miss him immensely, but he would return to you. While he was gone, you would build your allies at court and use the skills that Alysanne had taught you. A hand pressed against your belly as Caraxes’s red wings disappeared into the sky. Daemon’s babe would keep you company until his return. A new dawn was on the horizon.

#fae's writings #daemon targaryen #scarlet bound #scarlet bound series #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #pro daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon x fem!reader #red string au #red string of fate #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon imagine #daemon au #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon x sister!reader #daemon targaryen fic

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bedsyandco · 4 months

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𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 • 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

❥ — ꒰ pairing ꒱ fem!reader x jack hughes

❥ — ꒰ synopsis ꒱ part 2 of this fic!! in which you and Jack are in a fwb relationship and he takes you home to the lake house for the summer causing lines to be blurred

❥ — ꒰ content ꒱ nsfw? suggestive? kissing?

❥ — ꒰ note ꒱ you’ve been requesting this one for so long!! thank you for being patient!! I hope it was worth the wait!!

❥ — ꒰ word count ꒱ 1.6K

The first thing you notice when you wake up is blue. The blue of Jack’s eyes. It was the first thing you noticed when the two of you met as well. They were captivating. Maybe it’s the way they clearly reflect every little thought going through Jack’s head, the way you can clearly tell when he’s annoyed, or happy, or cocky. Or maybe it’s just because for the past few months you’ve been studying those eyes and you knew his expressions like the back of your hand now.

“Mornin’.” he says, his voice still thick with sleep, deep and raspy in a way that makes your thighs clench together.

“Morning,” you reply, sending him a little smile. Jack bends down to kiss your cheek, knowing how you feel about kissing before you’ve brushed your teeth.

“I could get used to this,” Jack says, running his hands through your messy hair and you blink sleepily up at him.

“Get used to what?” you ask.

“You. In my shirt, in my bed, in my house.” Jack replies, lifting the very shirt he was speaking of and running his hand up and down your back, his hand feeling warm on your skin.

You close your eyes again for a moment, trying to absorb and block out the words he was saying at the same time. You didn’t know if he knew what it did to your heart every time he said something like that. How it made your heart hope and yearn for a split second that this was real and not just the two of you fooling around. But that hope only lasted for a second before your brain caught up and reality sets in again.

“Don’t get used to it Hughes. It’s a rare occasion,” you say and he chuckles, kissing your neck before, standing up from the bed and tugging his sweats and shirt on.

“I’m gonna go downstairs, pretty sure mom already started with breakfast. Do your thing and meet me down there yeah?” Jack says, and you nod, letting out a little sigh as he leaves and closes the door behind him.

You take a few deep breaths, trying to prepare for the day ahead. This was what everyday felt like since you met Jack Hughes. Like it was a constant battle with yourself. Half of you fighting not to fall in love with him and the other half already there.

When you get downstairs you smile politely and greet Ellen and Quinn, The only other two people in the lake house that are awake right now. Your mind briefly wonders what they might think of you. What they might think about the fact that you slept in Jack’s bed last night. Or the hickey that’s visible on your neck, that you tried and failed miserably to hide with makeup only a few minutes ago. What they might think about the fact that the two of you are visibly more than friends but Jack very pointedly made sure to refer to you as his friend on multiple occasions.

“Are we taking the boat out today?” Jack asks Quinn as he sits next to you and Quinn nods in response.

Those thoughts only lasted for a few minutes before you remembered that you were likely never going to see these people again. You weren’t planning on continuing this arrangement with Jack until next summer and you very much doubted that you and Jack would end on good enough terms to keep in contact with each other, never mind his family.

—

Later that day you were sitting on the boat, soaking up the sun, the atmosphere filled with laughter and happiness as the guys took turns bullying each other about who’s better at wake surfing. You could certainly tell them who looked the hottest doing it, although your opinion might be a little biassed.

“Move Z,” Jack says as he gets back on the boat, drying himself off with a towel.

“What, why?” Trevor asks from beside you.

“Because that seat’s reserved.” Jack says, looking at him pointedly.

“For who?” Trevor asks confused and Jack scoffs annoyed

“Me, dumbass. Move,” Jack says again, throwing his friend with a towel and taking the now open seat next to you.

Jack’s hands go to your hips and he lifts you and pulls you closer, so you’re sitting sideways on his lap.

“You okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Yeah, why?” you ask, weaving your hand through his wet hair.

“I dunno. You just seem in your head today,” Jack replies, unable to help himself and moving his hand to cup your ass.

“I’m just hot,” you answer

“The hottest,” Jack says smirking at you as he squeezes your ass, and presses a kiss against your collarbone, dangerously close to your breasts.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say laughing a little and shoving his head away.

“Oh you mean the weather. Well I have a solution for that” Jack responds teasingly as if he didn’t know that’s what you meant this whole time.

He stands up with you in his arms, throwing you over his shoulder and walks towards the back of the boat.

“Jack, stop, no!” you screech, hitting his back a few times while giggling. Trevor, Quinn and Luke all begin cheering him on, encouraging him to drop you in the water.

“You ready?” Jack asks teasingly

“No, absolutely not. Put me down,” you say, hitting his ass and he bites yours in retaliation.

“You can swim right baby?” he asks and you can hear the humour in his voice.

“Yes-”

“Okay. On three are you ready… One, two, three.” he says and adjusts you so you’re in front of him, griping you tightly to him as he jumps in.

The two of you separate when going down but he immediately pulls you closer again when you resurface.

“That wasn’t so bad right?” Jack asks as your hands lock around his neck.

“You jerk,” you scold him and he just grins at you.

“Your jerk,” he shoots back, connecting his lips to yours in a bruising kiss and biting your lower lip as he pulls away.

And all that ran through your mind when he said that was that he isn’t yours. Not really. Not forever. Not in the way you want him to be yours.

“Hey lovebirds, get back on the boat before we leave you here,” Quinn yells and you make your way back on the boat.

—

Later that night you were laying in Jack’s bed again, trying to focus on the movie playing on his TV but it was proving to be a bit difficult when Jack couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“You liking the lake house?” Jack asks, his hand tracing patterns on your stomach.

“Yeah, it’s been fun. I really like your family and your friends. I can see why you grew up to be the person you are, growing up with influences and relationships like these,” you say and Jack smiles in response, kissing you softly.

“Think you’d wanna come back next year?” Jack asks and your breath hitches, meeting those blue eyes.

“Probably not. I’m not sure it was the best idea to come here this year,” you say and Jack immediately frowns, his hand stilling on your stomach, just resting there.

“But you just said you’re having fun. I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?“ Jack asks, removing his hands from you completely and sitting up and you follow suit.

“No Jack-“

“Then why?” he asks and you can hear the hurt in his tone.

“Because you’re making it hard for me not to fall in love with you. And I’ve been trying really hard to not let all these little things you’ve been doing get to my head and it’s getting harder and harder to convince myself that you don’t feel the same way, You made it clear from the start that you’re not a relationship guy and I don’t wanna make this hurt more than it’s already going to” you say, your tone vulnerable and Jack’s eyes soften as he grabs both your hands in his.

“What if I do feel the same way?” Jack asks

“Don’t humour me. It’s cruel,” you say and he takes your hand, placing it on his chest, right over his heart.

“I’m being serious. I’m not a relationship guy because I’ve never met anyone I’ve wanted to be a relationship guy for. Until you,” Jack says, and you swallow thickly.

“I’m probably gonna suck at it, and a month or two in you’re probably gonna realise you deserve better. I just want the chance to try, if you’ll let me,” Jack says and you connect your lips to his, not wanting to hear him say anything else negative about himself.

You had no doubt that Jack would be the perfect partner if he was really committed to it. Because if there’s anything you’ve learned about him in these last few months…it’s that once Jack is determined to do something, nothing will stop him.

And the only thing you realised a month into dating him, is that you’re hopelessly in love with him and that loves never stops growing.

Your next summer, and many summers after that were all spent there, right where it started.

#jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #hockey blurb #nhl blurb #hockey fic #nhl fic #hockey imagine

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highdefhoetry · 6 months

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tags: nsfw!! female reader, four armed sukuna, kidnapping/stockholm syndrome, cnc, rough sex, penetration (penis in vagina), giant cock, primal, choking, fingering, hand kink (finger sucking), possessiveness, toxic dynamic, ownership/controlling, hair pulling, marking, squirting, aftercare

Boyfriend!Sukuna

The relationship between you and Sukuna was always a bit off.

When you first crossed paths with the King of Curses, you froze in fear when you caught him staring at you with intense, ravenous eyes, like those of a rabid wolf sizing up its prey. He grinned at you with malice and desire, licked his lips before approaching. You could tell he was itching to sink his teeth into your skin, to taste your flesh and eat you up until there was nothing left, that he was barely containing the primal energy that threatened to burst out of his body. You thought you were going to die, accepted your fate knowing there was nothing you could have done to stop him.

But he didn’t.

“You’re coming with me,” he growled before picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing before carrying you back to his home.

You've been together ever since.

There was something about you that piqued his interest. You never knew quite what it was, nor did you dare to ask. But he made it clear from the beginning that you belonged to him, and him alone.

At first, he treated you more like a pet than a person. He’d snap his fingers or whistle at you, call you “woman” or “girl” instead of your name. He demanded your attention at all times, barking orders at you like an owner to a dog. And you always obeyed, fearing the consequences of angering him.

After a while, you grew on him, and he grew on you. Despite his reputation as a man-eating monster, you discovered that there was a heart buried deep down in the graveyard of his chest, one that you alone had unearthed.

There was a quiet loneliness within him that went unspoken. You could tell by his deep sighs and tendency to self-isolate that there was a lot of pain hidden in that rotting heart of his.

He much preferred to be the listener. To your surprise, he’d often ask what was on your mind, what thoughts ran through that pretty head of yours. And you were always honest. He’d listen intently, not saying a word until you were finished.

You thought he’d make fun of you, insult your intelligence or liken you to an insect like he did with other weak humans. But he never did.

Instead, he’d threaten to kill whoever hurt your feelings, suggesting the most violent and gory methods possible. You always politely declined, but it made you smile. That was his twisted way of showing that he cared for you.

Slowly but surely, he opened up little by little, sharing the evil thoughts that crossed his mind and the silent battles he fought alone. You listened to his woes, understanding him more and more now that you had a glimpse into his world.

He never officially asked you to be his girlfriend, but you accepted him nonetheless. You knew you could never leave him, anyway.

The first night you slept in the same bed, you thought he’d take you. You held your breath, prepared to be ravaged by this giant, impossibly strong man who could break your spine in half if he willed it.

But it never happened.

He simply laid down next to you, wrapped his four arms around your waist, buried his face into your bare back, and fell asleep.

The two of you stayed like that until morning.

And as each day passed, he grew more and more attached.

He wanted you beside him always. You slept together, bathed together, even went to the bathroom together. Your moments of privacy dwindled the longer you were with him. He owned you in every sense of the term. He owned your time. He owned your body. He owned your mind.

And he made sure everyone knew. He kept at least two of his four hands on you at all times, unless he could keep all four on your soft, delicate body. One on your thigh. Another wrapped around your waist. Sometimes resting the palm of his hand on the back of your neck, squeezing it tightly to force you to stay in place. Other times he’d pull you into his lap, where you could feel his immense cock harden against your ass.

His cock was truly immense, by the way. Probably the biggest you’d ever seen in your life. But you’d discover that for yourself soon enough.

Sukuna wasn’t one for pillow talk or sweet nothings. But he made up for that silence with his touch.

He was rough the first few times you fucked, grabbing fistfuls of your hair and pulling it back as he pumped his thick cock deep into you. He liked how it made you arch your back, the sound of your high-pitched cry, the fluttered moans that escaped your lips as he railed you until tears leaked from your eyes.

He also enjoyed admiring the marks and bruises he left on your skin afterwards. He’d trace his fingers along the black and blue patterns, grinning maliciously whenever you flinched.

But there were times when he was soft, too. They were rare and fleeting, but cherished by you nonetheless.

Sometimes he’d take a handful of your hair and caress it softly, scratch your scalp with his long nails before putting a hand on the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. He’d press his lips against yours, pinch your cheeks so you’d open your mouth more, kissing you like it was the last time he’d ever see you, every time.

He’d lay you down flat on your back, thrust into you in a slow and rhythmic pattern while gazing deeply into your eyes. In those moments, you felt more connected to him than ever.

He’d kiss down your neck, onto your chest, gently biting your nipples before dragging his lips down your stomach. No skin was left untouched, no nerve ending showed mercy.

Being with a man who had four arms meant being constantly overstimulated. One hand would be fingering your hole, curling it upwards to make you squirt and cum over and over again until you felt like you’d go insane. Another would be wrapped around your neck, restricting your blood vessels and making you feel lightheaded. Another would be delicately stroking your hips and thighs, relishing in the way your skin quivered beneath it. The last hand he’d shove in your mouth, forcing you to suck his fingers as he watched with sadistic glee.

Once he was satisfied, he’d finally let up, giving you a moment of respite to catch your breath and regain your sanity. But only for a moment. That was often just the warm-up; he needed to be inside you, to feel your tight walls clench around his 12 inch cock until he came.

Every time you’d beg him, tell him he was too big, you couldn’t take it, it wouldn't fit.

He’d simply laugh and say, “Yes you can. I’ll make it fit.”

Despite being soaking wet, his dick was still a lot to take in. He’d push it inside, smirk when you cried out, then immediately start pumping in and out.

And god, it felt so fucking good.

You were full of his cock, moaning and screaming with every thrust while he grunted and snarled like an animal.

When he finished inside you, he hdld you down until his cock was milked dry, pumping you so full of cum that it would leak out of your hole in a perfect cream pie every time.

He’d admire the sight, gazing down at you lustfully as he licked his lips.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he’d say, one of the few times you’d hear his praise.

He wasn’t a complete monster. Afterwards, he always made sure to grab you some water and curl up against you under the covers, planting soft kisses on your skin until you fell asleep.

He knew how weak and soft humans were. And you were his most treasured.

#ryomen sukuna #Sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna x reader #reader x Sukuna #female reader #minors dni #boyfriend!sukuna #sorrryyy i tried to add some softness but irs mostly spice and toxicity LOLOL

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woniverse-writes · 7 months

Text

"MOTH TO A FLAME (part 3)"

Bada Lee x Fem!Reader

part 2 ⟵ part 3 ⟶ part 4

series masterlist

summary: y/n l/n is the youngest team member of Jam Republic, competing in the second season of Street Woman Fighter. she’s got the sweetest smile and the most vibrant personality, but she also may or may not be the biggest hothead on the show when it comes to defending her teammates. apparently that’s attractive to Bada Lee.

word count: 9.2k

warnings: swearing, suggestive at times, both Bada and reader are idiots practically already in love, reader is described as younger and small a lot, sometimes isn't very accurate to swf's actual plot, also this isn't proofread so... sorry for any mistakes lol- lemme know if I missed anything!

All teams had gone their separate ways to begin discussing which company they were going to aim for. The only two teams securing the company of their choosing were Wolf’Lo and Lady Bounce- meanwhile Bebe, TsubaKill, and 1 Million all go for JYP; and Jam Republic, Mannequeen, and Deep N Dap all go for Hybe. When Bebe had walked into the room to 1 Million in there as well, they knew it would be interesting- then even more so when TsubaKill entered. And even though none of them outwardly said so, all of Bebe was secretly glad they weren’t going up against Jam Republic.

Jam Republic on the other hand- wasn’t worried at all when they saw Deep N Dap enter the room. In fact- when Kirsten had reported the information back to the team as they were preparing, Emma and Y/n couldn’t help but smirk and snort at how easy it would be.

So all teams began preparing their choreography to battle against each other. Everyone was working hard and staying focused, ensuring they put out their best work to secure the company of their choosing. Bada had stepped out briefly, leaving the rest of Bebe to start choreographing. when she came back, they had yet to start anything, only having collected ideas. It frustrated the leader beyond words, yet she still tried her best to express the dissatisfaction she was feeling to her teammates.

“You guys know I’m not the only person on this team, right?” the eldest member sighed passively with her eyes shut in frustration. The others all stood in silence, too ashamed to speak up.

“Every time we go out there, everyone calls us “Bada and her students”- aren’t you tired of that?? I’m tired of it, so why aren’t you?” she started raising her voice. Bada looked around at her teammates and felt disappointed, but was also starting to feel exhausted.

“I’m not competing by myself here… let’s get started” she sighed and everyone fell into a clump behind her, ready to follow her instructions. They begin working and eventually develop a pretty good routine, except everyone is on edge and they all keep making little mistakes.

The Bebe members take a break and Bada grabs her phone and her water, walking out the door to get some air. She can’t help but criticize herself, wishing she was able to lead her team better- lead them in a way where they felt confident enough to work on their own. But no, Bada is still learning, yet not giving herself a break. She almost feels pathetic when she opens her messages app and her and y/n’s texts are already pulled up. She sighed reading over the last few messages they were talking about, which happened to be from the night before after they had all picked their groups. Bada had been saying how she was kind of glad their teams weren’t directly against each other, and y/n replied with something along the lines of how she agreed- saying it would’ve broken her heart. Bada types out a quick ‘how’s it going?’, not expecting a response right away but still hoping for it anyway. The leader was starting to accept the fact that the younger dancer was becoming a safe space for her, and she had a feeling that said dancer felt the same.

In the meantime- Jam Republic is having a blast coming up with choreography, their teamwork is impeccable, and the ideas flow like water. After about three hours of non-stop motion they take a longer break. Y/n sprawls out on the floor and Audrey comes to lay on top of her, causing them both to laugh- until Emma also comes to lay on top of them, and suddenly Audrey was dying laughing and y/n was groaning about how it’s not fair for the smallest to be on the bottom. The older three members sat back and admired their playfulness- Latrice began recording the chaos and Kirsten started snapping pictures. After a few minutes of messing around, Emma rolled off the two and Audrey followed, leaving y/n dramatically breathing with her eyes closed and head tilted- pretending like she was dying. Ling made her way over to the youngest with her phone and water in hand, passing them off to her as she sat up.

“Thanks Ling Ling” the younger girl appreciated with her eyes still shut, but a sweet gentle smile on her face. y/n opened her phone as she took a sip of her water to see a message from Bada. It was sent a couple of minutes ago simply asking ‘how’s it going?’ wot which she quickly replied with ‘pretty good! We’re getting a lot done and it looks pretty good too🫣😋’ totally unaware of how tragic the Bebe practice is going.

Right as Bada is about to put down her phone and start the practice back up, she feels it buzz and looks down to see it light up with a new text notification. She immediately opens it to see y/n’s reply, and smiles, happy to know at least one of them is doing well. She typed out ‘that’s great! Wish I could say the same haha… but it’s okay- I feel more motivated now after hearing that your practice is going well🩵’ and pressed send before waiting a few seconds to see if she’d get a response right away- which she did.

‘Oh no! I’m so sorry to hear that love :( I hope it gets better- just remember to keep drinking water and DON’T overwork yourself! It’s important to do your best but you also need to make sure you’re in your best state of mind as well’ was the text Bada had received and truth be told, it made her a little emotional. She hearted the message and began typing again. ‘Let’s get something to eat after the battles tomorrow, okay? On me’

Y/n felt her face heat up and a smile began to take over as she read the latest message from Bebe’s leader. She made sure to heart the message and respond quickly with an ‘of course!! That sounds great!’ before putting her phone down and getting back to practice.

Bada felt relieved at y/n’s acceptance, sending a heart emoji then turning her phone off to head back to practice- now with a much better attitude. Her change in mood seemed to bring up the team's morale as a whole, seeing as how every member was bringing their a-game now. They finished choreographing and ran their routine into the late hours of the night before deciding to turn in and get some rest for a few hours. They came back the next morning and rehearsed a bit more, but ultimately they felt confident and were ready to compete.

As all the teams filtered in, everyone was sharing their nerves and excitement among themselves. Jam Republic was up first to battle and their three youngest members were beyond excited to take the stage. They showed their choreo, and even though they were only given a short period of time to work on, they blew everyone away with how energetic and clean it was. Audrey and Y/n once again received immense praise for their facials and explosive stage presence. The performance ended and while the other members were trying to catch their breath and process how they did, the two youngest members were skipping back to their seats giggling over how fun it was and how they hoped to keep HYBE so they could do it again

After watching Mannequeen, y/n was excited about how good it was but felt a little nervous after seeing her leader's tense expression

"Hey, let's try not to worry too much, we already danced and did our best, and we did amazing! Let's just try to enjoy the other dances right now" the youngest member softly states after putting a gentle hand on her leader's shoulder, giving her a bright youthful smile.

"y/n since when did you get so mature? You don't seem fired up at all right now and it's kinda scaring me" Latrice commented from the other side, causing y/n’s smile to widen a little.

"won't you be upset if we get eliminated?" Kirsten asked seriously before the younger girl could respond to the initial question.

"Of course, but I'm so tired I can't even think that far ahead right now" she joked. The members all rolled their eyes and laughed. after staying up all night to perfect their piece, they could barely even process it when the votes came in and Deep n Dap was kicked instead of Jam Republic. But to be completely honest, they weren’t surprised at all.

They move on to the JYP battle section, meaning it’s time for Bebe, 1 Million, and TsubaKill. 1 million goes first and of course, y/n is hyping up her new friends- especially Redy, which Bada is absolutely not happy about. She hates it, it makes her more nervous.

y/n is even more excited while watching Tsubakill, cheering again for the member she’s closest with- Rena, but also fangirling over their leader, Akanen. This again makes Bada even more nervous- to the point where she feels like she's gonna pass out. She hated feeling jealous but she also hated how badly she wanted to please the youngest dancer from Jam Republic- and that paired with her already crushing need to succeed was tearing her apart.

"Bada looks really tense…" Latrice comments

"oh my god I feel like I'm gonna throw up- I'm so nervous" y/n replies with her hand on her chest. Kirsten puts an arm around her shoulder, the whole pink team now feeling anxious. Bebe goes and they do amazing. Y/n is cheering and screaming the whole time, over the moon excited to see how well the routine turned out. When they finished dancing and everyone was cheering all the members bowed and turned to the various teams. When Bada had turned to face Jam Republic, y/n was already standing up throwing her hands in the air.

“What were you even worried about?? That was fucking amazing!!” the young girl scremaed with a huge smile on her face, causing Bada to share the same expression before shaking her head and turning back around to await the results. Everyone votes and the results are announced, 1 Million will be moving to another section.

After all the teams are adjusted, it’s announced that the two teams of each company will have an hour and a half to decide who gets to choreograph each song, then they will all take a four-hour filming break for lunch, but teams were allowed to begin collecting ideas if they wanted to. Bada had already discussed with her team that they would be taking their break to relax and decompress as long as they had gotten to stay in JYP. similarly, Jam Republic had also decided to take their break if they got to keep their original group.

Bada came waltzing over to Jam Republic’s seating with a cool smile on her face, even though she was really trying to contain an accomplished grin. y/n hopped down and met the older girl at the bottom, her teammates trying their best not to be nosy, but failing miserably.

“So I’m thinking a quick shower and then we can go?” Bada had asked looking down at the shorter girl who just smiled and nodded at first, her cheeks a little flushed already.

“Mmhm! Sounds good to me!” y/n responded enthusiastically, even though her brain was still stuck on the thought of Bada showering- or rather them showering together. Bada held up her hand like she was waiting for y/n to shake it, which she did albeit with a confused look.

“Alright- see you soon then princess!” Bada affirmed, giving a final playfully aggressive shake to y/n’s hand, as if they had just sealed an important business deal, causing the younger of the two to burst out into giggles. After Bada is back with her crew, y/n turns around to see the rest of Jam Republic eyeing her expectantly.

“Soooo what exactly are you gonna be doing later, princess?” Kirsten interrogated with a teasing smile. y/n just laughed some more and her smile grew wider (if that was even possible).

“Nothing crazy, we’re just going to get lunch” she had explained, somewhat calm, not entirely believing herself when she described it as “nothing crazy”. They all nodded and hummed, pretending to believe her.

“Right… just lunch… nothing crazy!” Emma repeated sarcastically with a knowing smile.

“Just don’t come back with hickeys the makeup crew won’t be able to cover-” Ling teased quietly to which everyone shot her a wide-eyed look.

“what? The way that girl looks at her is definitely not television-appropriate seventy-five percent of the time!” she exclaims, trying to defend her comment, which causes everyone to chuckle and nod in agreement.

“She’s got you there y/n… you should definitely go somewhere public, so she doesn’t pounce on you.” Emma snorts out a laugh, finding herself to be the funniest person in the room. Audrey shoves her shoulder and scoffs.

“Leave her alone- this is exciting! Y/n isn’t as delusional as we all thought!” “No Audrey- she’s still delusional, her delusions are just reciprocated by someone even more delusional that’s just really good at hiding it.” All the members look over to see Lusher standing in front of them with a knowing smirk. All of their faces drop, now looking a little panicked.

“It’s okay- we’ve been having pretty much the same conversations with Bada.” the Bebe sub-leader reassures them with a subtle laugh and smile. They all briefly relax before turning their full attention back to the girl in front of them.

“Wait- what do you mean you have the same conversations? About y/n???” Emma excitedly speaks up, leaning forward ready for the tea. Y/n also leans forward hands resting against Emma’s shoulders, with wide eyes and a tiny curious smile.

“Well… yes… but I don’t think right now is the best time to explain.” Lusher draws out with a teasing smile, causing Emma and Y/n to groan, but the rest to shake their heads and laugh.

“Anyways- I actually came over to see if the rest of you would want to get lunch with us, seeing as our precious teammates decided to ditch us for a date.” The standing girl finishes off her offer by crossing her arms and landing her eyes on y/n with another teasing look.

“That sounds great!” Audrey gushes, smiling happily at the invitation before looking over at Kirsten for confirmation. The older nods her head and smiles.

“We’d love to, thank you so much.” Kirsten nods again gratefully, and Lusher smiles before heading back to her team. After the short break, all teams head into their battle rooms to decide who is going to get to choreograph a chunk of each song. Everyone else seems to have figured it out quickly, besides Mannequeen and Jam Republic, who ended up taking the whole hour and a half they had been given. After it was decided that Mannequeen would take “Dope” and Jam Republic would take “Eve, Psych, and the Bluebird’s Wife” they were finally able to go on their break. The rest of Jam Republic decided to head out and meet team Bebe for lunch right away, while y/n texted Bada to let her know she was just finishing up the decision process and that she was going to change quickly before the meeting.

Y/n rushed back to her apartment and showered before drying her hair and doing her makeup. She had kept it light but still pretty, tying the look together with her signature gloss. Her outfit was simple- well- simple for her. She had on a pink tank top paired with a khaki skirt and layered a white jacket on top. She finished getting ready and shot Bada a quick text letting her know she was leaving. They decided to meet at a cafe that was in between their apartments and happened to be really close to the studio. Once y/n had arrived she walked in to see Bada already sitting at a table looking at her phone.

“Hey! Sorry I kept you waiting…” y/n spoke up shyly as she approached the table. To which Bada looked up and shook her head immediately, signaling it was no problem.

“You didn’t keep me waiting, I actually just got here a few minutes ago” the older shared to ease the younger girl’s mind. She ‘ahh’ed and took her seat across from Bada. They exchange small talk for a moment over what they’re going to order and begin conversing more comfortably after that. Their food and drinks arrive as they continue their conversations about how each other’s day has been going. Y/n is currently retelling how the decision process went down between them and Mannequeen, and even though she's disappointed in losing dope she laughs about it openly because Mannequeen was surprisingly sweet and respectful about it (or at least most of them).

"Wait- so you’re telling me they blocked your door??" Bada asked in disbelief after taking a bite of her food, trying not to laugh.

"YES" Y/n openly laughed at Bada not fully believing her and took a sip of her drink. They continued to laugh about it for a little bit before going back to talking about how team Bebe had been doing.

“I’m just glad we were able to pull it off… I was really stressed.” Bada tried to laugh about it so she didn’t seem too troubled in front of y/n, but the younger girl still frowned and reached across the table to take Bada’s hand on hers, rubbing the back of it gently before nodding at her to continue.

“I felt horrible especially in the beginning, because it really seemed like I was the only one putting in work… but then I felt even worse after thinking about how it’s my fault that my teammates don’t feel secure enough or confident enough to lead themselves… I felt so selfish. Like I wasn’t fit to continue leading them in that moment…” the older girl continued quietly, looking down at the table. She didn’t want y/n to pity her, but it just felt too easy to open up to the girl.

“You’re too hard on yourself.” she spoke up, looking at Bada with puppy eyes. The young girl could feel her heart shattering into pieces while listening to the leader describe her stress. She just wanted to lean over the table and wrap her in a giant hug, and coddle her until she had no more negative thoughts about herself. Bada sighed and hung her head for a second before looking back up at the girl across from her.

“I know…” she began with a sad smile.

“I just feel like I have to always put out the best work- especially here. There are so many amazing dancers and choreographers, so many teams with such strong presences… I just want that for Bebe. I want them all to be strong and recognizable because believe it or not, I hate that everyone only sees me when they think of my team…” Bada finishes off her rant with her head resting in her hand that isn’t still being held by y/n’s.

“Bada-” the other starts

“You do always put out your best work. everything you do is amazing- whether it’s as a dancer, a choreographer, and especially as a leader. Your girls look up to you a lot for a reason. They wouldn't care so much about your opinion if they didn’t think you were deserving of leading them.” Y/n finishes off strong and the look in her eyes assures Bada that she means every word. She looks back down and smiles again, feeling pressure starting to build in her eyes- there is no way Bada will let herself cry in front of y/n like this.

“You did well. I’m really proud of you.” y/n smiled and nodded gently, squeezing Bada’s hand in reassurance and that caused a single tear to slip down the older girl’s cheek, sending the younger into a slight panic.

“Ah- don’t cry!” Y/n stood up and ran over to Bada’s side of the booth, sitting down next to her as she began wiping her tears with her jacket sleeve. The younger continued to do so until Bada had stopped crying. Y/n looked into Bada’s eyes with a pout on her face as she tucked a piece of hair behind the older girl’s ear. Her hands were still resting on her cheeks, caressing the taller dancer’s face, even though the tears had stopped flowing a while ago. The two sat there in silence, just embracing the close proximity. Bada’s breathing was shallow, still recovering from crying, but now feeling nervous after realizing how close y/n was. The younger of the two glanced down at the other’s lips and stared for a few seconds before hearing her gasp quietly, causing her to look back up. Y/n backed away slightly, to Bada’s disappointment, but only to give herself room to pull one of her hands away and kiss her thumb, before placing her hand back on the older girl’s jaw and rubbing said thumb gently across her bottom lip. Bada was so shocked by her boldness, she felt her lips part slightly and her face heat up. Y/n just smiled lightly at her reaction, once again staring at her lips. She looks up to make eye contact on her own this time, kind of loving the power she has over the older girl at this moment.

“Are you feeling better now” she whispers gently and Bada just nods in a daze. Y/n hums and nods also, rubbing her cheek one more time before standing and heading back to her own seat. Bada snaps out of her daze, still feeling dizzy at the interaction. She clears her throat and takes a sip of her drink. The rest of lunch goes on without another serious incident, but y/n’s eyes are filled with what could only be explained as “pure love and adoration” for the remainder of their time together. The two end up heading back to the studio together, sharing the backseat of a cab.

Bada really is shocked by how bold y/n has become with her- after they finish up their meal and pay for everything, their cab arrives. Bada opened the door for y/n, which she giggled about and joked that Bada was such a gentleman to her, causing the older to roll her eyes and smile before explaining how she simply was taking care of her princess.

“Her princess…” y/n couldn’t stop thinking about that as they drove back. Once the two had both gotten in the car, they started off pretty evenly spaced out with Bada on one side and y/n on the other. But after about two and a half minutes they were side by side, and eventually, y/n had her legs lying across Bada’s lap as they cuddled and looked at the pictures they had taken together on their phones. When they had arrived back at the studio, y/n swung her legs back over placing her feet onto the car floor, opening her own door this time. Bada had followed her coming out the way, making sure to close the door behind and thank the driver. The two walked right next to each other, shoulders bumping but neither of them being brave enough to reach out and hold the other’s hand. As they both reached the lobby, it was almost the end of their allotted break time.

“I had a really great time today… so thank you” y/n began with a shy smile and blush painting her face, as she looked up at the older girl. Bada shared a similar smile, also taking on the look of “love and adoration” that y/n’s been sporting for the last hour or so.

“Eyy you don’t need to thank me…” she began just as shyly

“I also had a great time- even if I did cry a little-” Bada joked halfway through, causing y/n to giggle and bump her shoulder.

“But I seriously love talking to you… I’m hoping we can do this again soon.” it wasn’t a question, but the younger girl’s eyes were immediately lighting up and she was nodding her head.

“Of course! I’d love to!” y/n started enthusiastically, but then she took a deep breath and continued

“I really love talking to you too” she thought she was gonna cry if she said anything else, so the younger girl just finished off with a smile and sparkling eyes, not believing what was happening. Her heart was pounding and her face hurt from how much she had been smiling. Y/n thought her stomach was going to explode from how many butterflies she was feeling- it was like a real crush now… not some celebrity crush or feeling of admiration for someone older that one looks up to… these were real romantic feelings and y/n was surprisingly ready to deal with them. And even if she wasn’t, the way Bada was smiling at her would definitely change her mind.

_______________

Rehearsals have been exhausting, especially after having learned their opponents' choreography. For some teams, it was an easy adjustment, but for others… it was definitely a challenge.

TsubaKill had thrown in a tough acrobatic skill that was tough for even some dancers with experience in that area. Tatter was struggling to stick her landing on the double front handspring, and it was definitely bringing down the team’s confidence. Bada tried her best to stay positive as their leader, but even the members could tell she was starting to get nervous.

They’re given a longer break and Bada takes a walk, not even realizing she ended up near Jam Republic’s practice space. The pink also seems to be on break and the Bebe leader stands outside debating whether or not to knock on their door.

“Y/n…” Latrice starts suspiciously. The younger girl hums while taking a sip of her water, looking over with wide eyes.

“I think someone’s looking for you.” she finishes off with a soft knowing smile, pointing in the direction of their doorway. The younger looks over and furrows her brows, immediately standing up to head over to Bada.

“Hey- what's up? Are you okay?” the youngest Jam member asks in a concerned voice, eyes expressing how genuinely worried she is. Bada’s expression isn’t doing much to help her feel at ease, as the older hesitates for a second before sighing and closing her eyes.

“I don’t know… this practice is going terribly.” She begins, laughing pitifully, trying not to cry. Y/n pouts and makes a noise expressing her sadness and understanding. She immediately wraps her arms around the taller girl's waist, securing her in a comforting hug. Bada huffs out a sad laugh and wraps her arms around the smaller girl's shoulder, resting her head atop of hers. They stay like that for a few minutes with y/n rubbing circles on the older girl’s back. The whole time Bada was wishing she could just stay there forever, thinking that she might even fall asleep if she let herself stay any longer. She let out a sigh and stood up straight, patting Y/n's head before reaching to hold the smaller girl’s face in both hands. Y/n still had her arms loosely around the taller girl and was forced to look up at her since Bada was holding her face softly between her hands. The younger girl’s eyes glittered as she smiled softly, tilting her head slightly to lean into one of the older’s palms, looking lovingly into her eyes. In that moment Bada felt herself let out an uncontrollable giggle.

“You really are a puppy…” she stated absentmindedly with a lovestruck smile, still staring into the younger’s sparkly eyes. y/n giggled girlishly and wrapped her arms tighter around Bada’s waist teasingly, causing the older girl to laugh and squish the smaller’s cheeks playfully between her large hands. Both were giggling and clinging to each other, and the rest of Jam Republic was either smiling endearingly at them or making fake gagging noises (Emma). Bada sighed and let go of y/n’s face, placing her hands on her shoulders instead. The smaller of the two finally let go of the other’s waist and stood there waiting for her to say something.

“I should probably let you get back to practice…” Bada pouted slightly, not really wanting to go back to her own practice.

“I mean, you don’t haaaave to…” the younger dragged out her sentence with a playful eye-roll, playing around still, also not wanting the older girl to leave. Bada huffed out a laugh and shook her head.

“Okay, well I definitely need to get back to practice.” she stated, trying not to sound too distraught by it. Y/n’s eyes softened and her face fell for a split second, almost unnoticeably, before a gentle smile took over her face.

“Just please don’t overwork yourself… or the girls. Take care of each other please, your health and mentality are most important…” the younger girl pleaded looking deeply into Bada’s eyes. She patted her head and ruffled her hair a little, causing her to whine slightly. Bada laughed again and nodded her head.

“I promise we’ll all take care of ourselves… but we’re still gonna work just as hard as before. At least until we get things right.” her face dropped a little and the somber expression was back.

“No. health first, Bada… you won’t be able to get anything right if you’re injured… so please take care of yourself.” and after seeing the pleading look in y/n’s eyes while she stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, Bada really couldn’t find it in her to argue. So she let out a sigh and nodded.

“Okay…” she nods again looking at the ground, feeling a bit emotional. Bada takes another deep breath and stands up straight, smiling again, causing y/n to smile again.

“Alright, well i’m gonna get back to practice-” the older states, and right as y/n’s about to reply, Bada places a quick kiss atop her head, and then struts off back to her practice space, leaving the younger girl with her jaw dropped and eyes wide as ever. Once she’s taken quite a few steps and put some distance between them, Bada turns over her shoulder and throws y/n a wink paired with a teasing smile. The younger can’t help but huff out a laugh of absolute astonishment and disbelief. As Bada turns the corner and is out of y/n’s sight, the Jam Republic girl doesn’t even want to turn around to see her teammates' expressions, knowing damn well she’s gonna have to answer a lot of questions.

__________

The next day arrives and it’s time for everyone to present their pieces to the other crews, as well as record their practice videos to send in for the artists to view. While all of Jam Republic is in a good mood and extremely excited to show off their routine, their youngest can’t help but feel a little anxious. Not for herself, but for the team sitting next to them, and more specifically for their leader.

Bebe was one of the first to go and it started off well. They seemed pretty relaxed until it came time for Tatter’s front handspring. She didn’t stick the landing and it threw everyone off, but the team didn’t falter, continuing on as if it didn’t happen. Y/n was cheering the loudest, especially for Tatter, letting her know it was okay. But when the blonde didn’t land her font walkover as well, y/n’s screams increased in volume tenfold.

“YOU’VE GOT THIS TATTER- LET’S GO GIRL” she’s screaming so hard that her chest hurts, and the small girl can feel tears starting to sting her eyes. At this point everyone else was cheering for the team as well, wanting to see them finish off strong. The second it was over, Bada was turning to Tatter and wrapping her in a tight hug. The younger member cried and cried, while her leader petted her hair and shushed her.

“Are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” Bada whispered to the crying girl in her arms, who shook her head and backed away to wipe her tears. The leader pushed some hair out of her face, and pulled her back in for another hug, leading her and the rest of the team back to their seats. Everyone continued to cheer for them as loud as possible.

“You did well, it’s okay. It was just a mistake. As long as you’re not hurt, that's what matters right now.” the blonde sighs, finally calming down and she lays her head on the oldest member’s shoulder, closing her eyes for a few moments.

On the other side of them, Jam Republic is holding back their own tears, feeling immensely sorry for the team they’ve grown so close to. Except for y/n who is freely letting her tears fall, as she hides her face in her hands. Latrice rubs her back until she calms down and is able to sit back up without crying.

A couple more teams take their turns before it’s time for Jam Republic. It’s safe to say that when they do their routine and everyone goes fucking crazy. Their ability to pick up Mannequeen’s whacking section and execute it as well as they did, sent everyone into a frenzy. On top of that, their energy and expressions were beyond praise, so everyone was just screaming.

Everyone is surprised to see that the team isn’t utilizing y/n more, or at least using her old choreography. The youngest member mostly shared the center with another member, yet was never the main focus. The only highlight she really has is after Audrey’s articulated arch, where she runs to lead the line for a brief second, her expressions and energy being what makes her stand out. The look in her eyes and the slight smirk make everyone go crazy over the visuals and stage presence.

“THAT’S MY GIRL” Bada is leaning over her teammates screaming the loudest anyone has heard her scream. Her teammates just give her the same side eye they always do whenever she starts openly fangirling over y/n. But they all have just learned to ignore it for the most part now. Jam Republic finishes their routine and are all breathing heavily as they bow and walk back to their seats. While everyone’s still clapping and the members are about to sit down, Bada discreetly lifts up her fist right when y/n is about to walk by. The younger just smirks, trying not to laugh at the older girl’s silly yet supportive action, and bumps her smaller fist against Bada’s.

The rehearsal finishes and the following day is the pre-recording and live performance. All the teams are once again getting their makeup done, this time sharing a room with their members.

“I can’t believe we’ve been here so long already and this is only the first mission we get to do together” Latriece states while getting her eyeshadow done. The others hum and some nod.

“It feels like we’ve been here forever, but it’s actually only been a couple of months…” y/n replies as her stylist applies a gemstone to her under eye.

“Only? I feel like these have been the longest two months of my life.” Emma exaggerates in return, causing a few of the members to hum more aggressively than before. They finished up with getting their makeup done and in typical y/n fashion, the first thing she did was start taking mirror selfies. At first, she was taking them by herself, and then of course Audrey joined… then Ling joined, and soon after that it was all of Jam Republic scrunched together trying to fit in the frame of one mirror. After that, Latrice offered to take more elaborate pictures for her, knowing how the young girl loves to pose and post. Once all that is done, they have a few minutes before having to head backstage for the pre-filming. Y/n doesn’t even think twice before opening her messages app and sending Bada a few of the selfies she took, along with some of the full-body pics Latrice had taken for her.

Bada’s finishing up in hair and makeup when she feels her phone buzz. Already getting her hopes up at the familiar hum of her text notification, she can’t help but expect a message from a certain Jam Republic member. Sure enough- when she unlocks her phone, she’s met with a series of selfies and other photos of the youngest member, dressed in pink and white with glittery makeup. Bada doesn’t even feel herself smile, she’s so lost in a dream over the pretty girl on her phone.

‘Absolutely stunning, Princess🩷’ she presses send without even thinking. Y/n hearted the message and sent the hand heart emoji right as Bada was about to be done with her hair. As soon as the stylists step away the Bebe leader is opening her camera and snapping her own mirror selfies, immediately sending her favorites to y/n.

‘Ugh how do you always look SO fucking good😩🩵’ was the response Bada got almost instantaneously from the younger girl, to which she giggled and covered her mouth with her fist trying to hide her smile. Hearing the soft sound Lusher looked over and sighed affectionately at her blushing teammate.

“Did y/n text you?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Bada looked over with wide eyes, a bit shocked forgetting that everyone else could still perceive her in the present moment.

“Oh- uhm…” the eldest tried to be cool and calm, attempting to avoid the conversation, but just as soon as her walls went up, they came right back down.

“yeah… she did” and she was giggling and smiling again, causing Lusher to burst out laughing at her leader’s openness. It was a relief to the younger girl to see Bada so relaxed and at peace, even though they still had to go out and compete in a few hours. Seeing one of her closest friends and now team leader act the way she did with and around y/n made her feel okay, knowing that there was someone to take care of her just like how she had been taking care of them.

___________

Before the pre-recordings start an announcement is played on the monitors. It’s a member or group of members from each company, declaring who they thought was the better team during their practice. Le Sserafim chose Jam Republic as the better team, meaning they got to choose whether they went first or second during the live show- they chose to go second after Mannequeen.

During the practice/filming period- everything started out well for Jam Republic. They were all laughing and having a blast watching the other crews. They all casually made fun of wolf’lo for their uhm… “hip-hop look”… and ended up delving into a slightly more serious conversation about how crazy it is that level of cultural appropriation is still going on in 2023- the durags were already too much... whoever was styling these girls needed to get FIRED. After Mannequeen had gone it was finally their turn.

The recording started off really well until all of a sudden Latrice was on the ground, unable to get up. Y/n was right next to her when it happened, watching her go down. She stopped dancing immediately to make sure the older girl was okay and to see if she could get up. After a few moments, the team realized Latrice wasn’t going to be able to get up on her own any time soon and she was rushed to the hospital. The members halted their filming and headed back to their hideout. The members are holding it together surprisingly well at first, mostly just in shock at the situation. Audrey is the first to start crying, and it hits everyone else like a truck. Y/n is by her side in seconds, cuddling and trying to soothe her. Ling is next to start tearing up and shortly after y/n even sees Emma shed a tear. The youngest is able to hold it together until she looks up to see her leader crying. That’s when y/n feels the tears start falling uncontrollably, as she tucks her head into Audrey’s shoulder and silently cries.

“Is there an option we just forfeit?” Kirsten asks the staff, wiping her tears. Once Y/n hears this she picks up her head immediately and the look in her eyes is one of heartbreak and the poor girl seems terrified by the idea of giving up. The staff explains that if they were to forfeit it would immediately put them in last place, meaning they’d be up for elimination. This news caused them all to fall back into tears, completely lost on what to do. After what felt like half a day, Latrice came back with a boot on her leg. The other members immediately rushed to her side and helped her sit down.

“Basically I just have to ice it for a few hours and then I’m allowed to dance on it for the performance, but after that, I’m gonna have to rest for a while.” she had explained to them, as her team all watch over her with worried eyes. She then began talking to them about how Redlic was also in the hospital at the same time as her. The others were amused but y/n just rolled her eyes.

“Of course she was” the young girl mumbled, not at all surprised with the show’s resident drama queen. Latrice looked over and shook her with a laugh, then proceeded to joke about how she was starting to see Redlic as her soulmate instead of her rival, which ended up making y/n somewhat emotional again.

After a few hours of recovery, Jam Republic quickly shot their pre-recording of the routine and went back to get some touchups done on their makeup as the audience started pouring in. After about an hour and a half of anticipation, the live performance began. All the girls could hear the audience from backstage, and some even from their dressing rooms. It made them all even more hyped to perform.

TsubaKill does their performance first and everyone is blown away by how aggressive yet clean they are with their movements. When it’s Bebe’s turn y/n can feel her nerves increase by two hundred percent. The girl was already nervous, but knowing that Tatter had been struggling intensely with a few points really made y/n’s heart hurt for the other team. But her nerves quickly dissipated as she watched the blond stick her double front handspring, in fact- she was up and screaming immediately.

“LETS FUCKING GO TATTER” is the small girl’s immediate reaction. She’s standing on the couch in her crew’s waiting room, screaming with the rest of her team. y/n briefly calms down for a moment and brings herself to sit next to and cling to Emma, who pats her head and laughs.

“I feel like I’m gonna cry I’m so proud of her.” and the excitement only increases as the performance goes on. There’s one moment where they all point at someone in the crowd, and when it happens the camera pans to Bada, charismatically pointing and smirking, which has y/n’s jaw dropping to the floor and all of her members immediately looking her way to catch her reaction. No one says a word until y/n looks around to meet eyes with all of them. She holds up her hand and closes her eyes, pretending to cry.

“Enough.” is all she says yet it has her members bursting out in laughter. Minah is the next victim of Jam Republic’s inhumane screams of support, when she does her jerky laugh move, once again sending them all spiraling. Especially y/n and Audrey who are now standing on the couch again, clinging to each other for dear life. And then of course, y/n pretends to faint when Bada does her peek through the other members before the end half of the song. Emma smacks her on the side of the head, asking her politely (sarcastically) to pull herself together. Bebe finishes their routine and all the members are standing in the middle of their room cheering and clapping like maniacs.

Shortly after the JYP match, Mannequeen went first during the Hybe competition and for the first time, y/n is actually nervous for herself to compete. The other team had done really well and even adjusted accordingly to the choreography Jam Republic had given them. When it was time for the pink team themselves to finally perform, y/n took a deep breath and put on her game face- ready to go. The music started and she instantly felt herself become immersed in their doll-like theme. She and Ling had taken the center for the intro, already bringing the story to life. The audience loved them and so did the other crews. Bada really did try her best to focus on the dance as a whole and was able to when y/n wasn’t seen on the screen, but any other time her eyes were focused on the youngest member.

“I’m really surprised they didn’t utilize y/n more…” Minah shares with her group after the performance ends. To which Bada explained that the girl told her how she had wanted to help mostly behind the scenes for this one instead of taking the spotlight, as she’s not the only one on Jam Republic that can look good doing kpop choreo. They all ‘ahh’ed and nodded, adding yet another thing to the list of reasons they all admire y/n l/n.

When it’s revealed that Jam Republic won y/n bursts into tears and collapses on the ground, but she immediately gets up and hugs Latrice and they’re just crying together. The rest of the teams compete and the day ends as a success for half and a learning experience for the others.

Not even getting a day to rest and recover, the first elimination occurs the next day. Everyone once again files into the fight zone, taking their seats and waiting for filming to start. The first two battles to be announced were SM and YG, resulting in 1 Million and LadyBounce securing their safety from elimination. Next was JYP- Bebe versus TsubaKill.

“There’s no way Bebe will be up for elimination…” y/n starts off although she feels her stomach turning. Her teammates hum and nod as they focus their eyes on the screen in front of them, awaiting the results. But they all gasp when the scores are revealed.

“I didn’t think it would be that bad…” Audrey whispers with sad eyes. All of the members slowly turn to catch TsubaKill’s reaction to being up for elimination. They were surprisingly calm, still smiling and nodding peacefully. Bada had spoken about how she was proud of her team for pulling through but got choked up at the end, wishing their opponent good luck in the final battle.

When it came down to Mannequeen versus Jam Republic everyone was just about ready to throw up because they were so nervous.

“I actually have no clue how this is going to go… I have such an awful feeling about this” y/n’s shaking her head and hiding her face in her hands. The screen reveals that even though Jam Republic had won the judges' votes, Mannequeen won the audience points, and the whole pink team tensed up. They all join hands and hold onto each other as they await the final score. When it came, their shoulder sagged and they all let out a heavy breath. Jam Republic wins by a hair.

As the final team score is announced, the host reveals the final ranking with Bebe in first and Jam Republic in fourth. TsubaKill and Wolf’Lo had the two lowest ranks, so now their teams were going up against each other for one final match to determine who was going home.

The first of what would be five battles began, crew versus crew. Y/n’s already fangirling over Tsubakill, especially Akanen

“She’s so mommy-“ “I need you to actually shut the fuck up” (yet another classic argument between Jam Republic’s designated Tom & Jerry duo, Y/n and Emma). Meanwhile, Bada is just as excited but is more in favor of Wolf’lo, really enjoying their classic hip-hop dance style. Tsubakill takes the first win and everyone flips, but the second battle between them has y/n heated.

“Why the fuck is she tripping her and getting all up in her space… that’s so juvenile” She was outraged when Baby Sleek won, always hating when dancers got too touchy with each other during battles, but especially when they were dancing at the same time and one of the dancers got too reckless- aka Baby Sleek.

The leaders battle next and Jam Republic is heavily rooting for Akanen, especially y/n.

“If Akanen doesn’t win, I’m leaving” the youngest member dramatically expressed with her arms crossed, tapping her food comedically, causing her members to laugh.

“Oh so you’ve moved on from one team leader to the next already?” Emma teases and causes y/n’s jaw to drop and her eyebrows to furrow in defense. The duo battle was another hard-to-watch experience for her, as she felt that Wolf’Lo didn’t deserve the win for simply rolling around on the floor. Then the final group battle happened. Y/n absolutely loved TsubaKill’s performance, but it upset her to say that Wolf’Lo’s was slightly more put together.

When wolf’Lo takes the final win y/n’s head immediately hangs in defeat. She’s able to avoid crying until Rena starts speaking and they’re both instantly in tears. Once they’re told to leave the fight zone, y/n rushes down the seats and runs straight to Rena engulfing her in a huge hug. The two had become close ever since the class battle mission, and it hurt to see such a talented and kind-hearted friend go so soon. After they had all said their goodbyes and TsubaKill went back to their hideout for one final time to pack up their things, the rest continued to cry and try to pull themselves together. After about 45 minutes, each team took turns going up to say goodbye to the red team, truly not ready to let go of the newfound friends they all had made. TsubaKill turned off their sign and left, then the cameras stopped rolling for the day.

Each crew was back in their own hideout now, just discussing the events of the last few days and how they could relax briefly since they all survived the first elimination. Jam Republic’s room was eerily quiet as the small team with such big hearts sat heartbroken still. Y/n didn’t look herself, eyes tired and face puffy, and oh how it made her members feel even more upset knowing their youngest member took every blow straight to the heart- yet she never let that truly impact her as a person, always taking on every new situation with a bright smile and open-mind.

“How’re you holdin' up mama?” Kirsten asked, gently rubbing the young girl’s shoulder. Her lip quivered and she started to tear up again before leaning forward and hiding her face in her hands.

“This is so much harder than I thought it was gonna be.” Y/n cries into her hands, shoulders shaking as she sobbed. Kirsten just continued to rub circles on her back until she calmed down. Once she finally did manage to stop crying, the younger girl sat up and ran a hand through her hair, suddenly seeming a tiny bit more alive than before. She looked around at all her members and stopped at Emma.

“Fuck this shit.” she declared confidently and the members couldn’t help but chuckle and shake their heads, forever impressed by how unpredictable the girl will always be. She throws her head back to rest against the back of the sofa in their room. A few moments of silence pass then there's a knock on their door. Ling, who is sitting closest to it, stands up and opens the door, revealing a slightly-somber-looking Bada Lee. once she realizes all eyes are on her, the tall girl’s eyes widen and she clears her throat. Before anyone can even say anything y/n is up and moving.

“Hey, what’s up?” she whispers as she meets the older girl in the doorway. Bada stutters for a second before taking a breath.

“I just wanted to come check on you… I know you take these things pretty hard.” she had clarified with a sympathetic comforting smile, causing y/n to smile slightly as well.

“Well thank you… how are you holding up?” she asked in return with her signature puppy eyes. Bada tilted her head for a second, thinking about how she wanted to word her sentence.

“I think I just need to keep moving. Of course I’m upset about it, but I feel for me personally I just have to keep working… there isn’t any time to rest-” she starts and sees Y/n take a deep breath, knowing the young girl is about to reprimand her for not taking care of herself.

“But-” she continues, holding up her hands in defense, causing the girl across from her to sigh and cross her arms expectantly.

“I actually want to take the time I have and enjoy it… maybe with someone?” Bada had finished her statement with a question, hinting that she very much wanted to spend her free time with the smaller girl in front of her. Y/n matched her cheesy smile and looked over her shoulder to see her teammates staring (per usual). Kirsten and Latrice looked at each other for a second, having a silent conversation, before looking back towards the two in the doorway and nodding with a thumbs up. Y/n looked back at the tall girl in front of her and smiled brightly.

“Are you free now?” she asked, and Bada held out her hand for y/n to take, which she did. The two already grinning like lovesick idiots.

“For you I am.”

note: sorry this part took so long!! i hope everyone enjoys it- next part is gonna be the pool party episode omg yay lol

taglist (open): @tinybada @angel-hyuckie @violetinferno @jesuschrist2006 @1luvkarina @uwulyn @justandloyal2961 @deadgirlwalking3 @heeheemich @squidvoldyvoid @vivzyo @ouhaika @jksjx @ocyeanicc @marianamartinsthings @jxrdxnh @luvjanexx @lorenztired @khjssss @heavenlycloud @loisje123 @starchasermyloves @zhivaxo @grinnwolph @notyourd0lly @stinkbvgs @nermandiiiii-blog @abllucena @arujee @idontknownemore @thatgayinsomniac @l-a-u-r-a--b @fruitr0llup @cgriffin9797-blog @woooooya @kaaylvst @ssc7514 @astoreea @linda-botello @kpopgirl-97 @erikook @majookim @okjaeminn @misszoldyc

#moth to a flame #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee #bada lee x reader #street woman fighter x reader #bada x reader

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megxplryxb · 1 year

Text

Dating Steve Harrington would include:

Because honestly, who wouldn't want to date Steve?

Knowing Steve since you were little kids and being best friends ever since

You being totally oblivious to the fact that Steve liked you because you were convinced he was still in love with Nancy

Steve crushing on you for months but being afraid to tell you because he was sure you didn’t feel the same way even though you’ve loved him since, forever

Dropping little hints that he was crazy about you but you never catching on, always thinking he was talking about some new girl he’d met while at work

Getting jealous when he’d talk to Nancy because you hated how she broke his heart

Robin and Dustin trying to help him tell you how he felt but Steve would chicken out every time “No, I can’t tell her! If she doesn’t feel the same way, it’ll ruin our friendship and I can’t lose her.”

Your love for each other being blatantly obvious to EVERYONE

Steve always protecting you before everyone else even though he knew you could handle yourself

Steve finally telling you that he loved you when he was drugged by the Russians but you laughed it off thinking he didn’t know what he was saying. “Stevie, you’re very high right now.”

Him pulling you aside to tell you again before the showdown with Vecna while everyone was preparing for battle. “I meant what I said y’know, back at the mall…when you thought I was too drugged to know what I was saying…I’ve wanted to tell you for so long and I need to tell you now in case we don’t make it out this time and you can’t blame it on drugs.” He spoke softly as you put a hand over his mouth, smiling at him with tears in your eyes. “We’re going to make it out and when all of this is over you can tell me, okay?” You whispered cupping his face as he nodded. “I do, though. I always have.” Steve swallowed as you tried to hold back the tears from falling down your cheeks. “I do too.” You confessed finally sharing your first proper kiss

Nursing him back to health after defeating Vecna and becoming an official couple “Can we live happily ever after now?” Steve asked lying in his bed beside you before making love to you for the first time

Steve constantly touching you now that you’re his, it’s his love language after all

Your parents not being a bit surprised about your relationship because they were sure you were together anyway. “Haven’t you always been with him?” Your Dad asked confused as to why you were telling him now.

Borrowing his sweaters and forgetting to give them back for weeks at a time but Steve doesn’t mind because they always come back smelling like you and he loves the way you smell

Practically living in Steve’s house with him while his parents are out of town because he hates being alone. It’s not something that used to bother him but now that he’s with you, he doesn’t ever want to be without you. “Missed you today, honey.” He’d whisper in your ear, wrapping his arms tightly around you as you let out a soft laugh. “Steve, it’s only been a few hours.” “Yeah, a few hours too long.” He’d reply before kissing you

Having the whole gang over for movie nights, pool parties and sleepovers so Steve’s house doesn’t always feel so empty and you want him to have good memories there too

Teaching him how to cook because you’re tired of him constantly buying take out and shitty microwave meals when you aren’t around. Steve thinks it’s stupid at first but when you reveal there’s nothing sexier than a man who can cook, he rips off his shirt and throws on his apron, ready to make a mess in the kitchen, in more ways than one – “I might need a few lessons on how to cook, baby, but I’m a pro at dessert.” Steve would flirt trying to pull you closer as you’d wave your finger at him. “Dessert comes after “baby”.”

Running your fingers through his hair after a long day at work when you’re both lying on his couch watching a movie. “mmm sweetheart, that feels so good, could stay like this forever.”

Leaving your hair ties around his gear shift to annoy him but Steve secretly loves that you leave them there, just reminding everyone that you’re his and also because they’re useful when you decide to suck Steve off in his car when the drive in movie he takes you to is boring

Steve always looking up the local newspaper for affordable apartments so you can live together away from his parents house

Holding hands while he drives

Always telling you you're prettier than the actresses in the movies you watch while the gang gags at his cheesiness

Steve spending the holidays with your family and finally realising how much fun they could actually be

Bringing him and Robin lunch in Family Video

Steve picking you up from work on his days off “Hi honey, how was your day?”

Night swimming in his pool and feeling his fingers untying your bikini strings

Going on drives to nowhere just to see where you end up

Getting him to sing to you because it’s his secret talent and it really turns you on

Going on cheap dates because you hate fancy restaurants and prefer pizza

Dancing with you in his kitchen

Coming home drunk from a party and talking until the break of dawn

Steve whispering to you about his hopes for your future together when you have a bad dream and can’t sleep

Playing twister on date night but it always leads to sex

El and Max asking you for advice on relationships because you and Steve never break up unlike Nancy and Jonathan

Leaving Hickeys on Steve’s neck before he goes to work to annoy him

Steve leaving you notes when he leaves early but doesn’t want to wake you “Morning baby, how about dinner tonight at Enzo’s? Or we can just order a pizza and make out at skull rock, your choice - Love you x

Teasing Steve in public because you know how frustrated he gets

Sitting on his lap, whispering sweet nothings in his ear when he isn’t giving you attention at a party and you get a little too horny because he looks so good

Him never being able to say no to you

Steve always being willing to try new things in the bedroom with you “Baby I got this book today, you have to check it out, the positions are crazy!”

Lying on his chest while he tells you about his day

Giving you the last of his popcorn when you go to the movies because he knows the little pieces are your favourite

Steve loves how excited you get for every holiday, especially Halloween and Christmas.

He teases you for crying at the happy ending of movies but he thinks its the cutest thing ever

Giving Eddie advice on romance because now that he's found you, he wants his friend to be happy too

Always beating Steve at bowling, not because he lets you, just because he sucks at it. “Oh yeah? Maybe next time I’ll take you to the basketball court and see how you like losing, huh hotshot?” He’d joke wrapping an arm around you, kissing your cheek as you return your bowling shoes to the counter

Being the only other person allowed to drive his car, a privilege you’re extremely proud of. “I can’t believe you’re actually letting me drive this.” You squeal as Steve tosses you the keys, walking towards the passenger door. “Baby, if you drive the car as good as you fuck in it, we really won’t have a problem.” Steve teases as you slide in to the driver seat confidently.

Having stupid fights and Steve always apologising first because he hates it when you’re mad at him (not that you can stay mad for too long)

The hot make up sex you have after

Running you baths and lighting candles

Sneaking off from parties to find a bathroom you can make out in

Taking Steve to lingerie shops so he can help you pick out something sexy “Baby, I think you should get these, pink is totally your colour” “Oh I love lace!” “Crotchless panties, why would….Oooooh, they’re going in the basket.”

Steve being a professional pussy eater – the man just loves to watch you squirm underneath him and he could stay there for hours

Gathering his own little collection of sex toys to use on you because watching you cum is his favourite hobby

Never letting you shower alone because Steve wants to spend time with your boobies, he literally talks to them while you rinse out your hair

Wearing his old jerseys because seeing his last name draped across your back, drives him insane.

He knows he’ll make you Mrs Harrington eventually, he already has the ring picked out

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #king steve #steve the hair harrington #joe keery #steve stranger things #stranger things smut #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fic

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choism · 7 months

Text

Choism's Kinktober 2023 | t.d.wl

dom!trafalgar law x afab!reader

Impregnation Kink: Being sexually aroused by the idea of impregnating someone ; getting someone pregnant turns you on, having an impregnation kink

Genre: smut, fluff

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: impreg kink (duh), breeding kink, unprotected sex (dont), fingering, making out, slight body worship, lots of dirty talk, petnames: baby, sweetheart, slight mommy kink? kind of, mating press, kind of feral sex

A/N: Hello and welcome to the first fic of kinktober! I decided to post this one first because as most of you know, I have been so feral for this man lately. I hope you all enjoy!!! Remember to leave feedback in the tags by reblogging <3

CHOISM'S KINKTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

Today had been a long day for the crew. A long battle that had lasted seemingly forever taking up all of your energy and causing you to feel drained once back on the submarine. All you wanted was to take a shower and curl up in bed with your beloved captain, for a well deserved rest. But Law had other plans for you.

You enter his quarters after washing up and see he’s relaxing on his bed. You dry off and slip on one of his shirts, plopping yourself next to him, “Today was a lot,” You mumble into his neck, kissing it and pulling away. “What do you wanna do before we go to bed? I was gonna play some games with the rest of the crew but it seems like we are all too tired.”

Law lays back and pulls you on top of him, hugging you tightly. “I dunno, just want you tonight.” He kisses along your neck. “We had a long day… We should just relax more.” You melt into his touch as his hands roam your body underneath your shirt, smoothing up and down your sides.

“Well, what did you have in mind?” You giggle and kiss him on the lips, setting a slow, intimate pace. Law moves so the both of you can sit up, each other's lips not leaving until he pulls apart to take off his shirt. Law kisses from your lips down to your chin, then down your neck. He lifts up your shirt a bit and you take the hint, pulling away to take it off. He takes a second to eye your torso,

“Just want to make love to you baby, let me take care of you.” Even though you have been together a while now, you feel your heart flutter. Law flips your positions so you are on bottom and he’s positioned on top. Leaning down to take a few pecks, he lifts back up and reaches over to grab the lube he stashes in his nightstand, squirting a fair amount in his fingers and warming it up. Law uses his other hand to take off your underwear as you lift your legs to help. He discards them somewhere to the side before he leans down to your center, pecking a kiss over your clit then leaning back up. You shiver under his touch and feel his thick fingers prod at your entrance, lubing up your hole before slowly entering two fingers.

You let out a gasp at the welcome intrusion, feeling his fingers fill you up. Law leans forward and kisses your chest, suckling and biting and leaving hickeys everywhere to show off his love for you. You writhe and moan beneath him as he fucks his fingers into you, soon adding a third to open you up properly and prepare you for his cock. Law licks a stripe up your neck and kisses you once again, deeply, before pulling out his fingers,

“Gonna fill you up so good sweetheart, wanna make you feel good.”

Law back up to take off his boxers, his large cock springing free from its confines and bouncing towards his stomach. His tip already flush and leaking precum, he spreads it around before pouring some lube onto it, spreading it down his shaft. You observe as he jerks himself off slowly, preparing to enter you. “Ready for me?” He asks gently, pecking you on the lips.

“Yes, please Law I need you.” Law smiles at you, lining up with your hole and entering slowly, making you feel nice and full. You both moan out at the sensation in tandem. He rocks in and out of you shallowly, letting you get used to the feeling of his cock. You wrap your arms around his neck and lightly claw at his nape, the feeling of him stretching you out so good.

He kisses your forehead before moving more fluidly, now fucking you deeper, slower. You let out little moans as he works you open. Over time his thrust quickened, not too fast but just enough to get you to see stars, rolling out that heat that’s started to build in your abdomen.

“Can’t wait to fill you up, fuck you full of my cum.” He groans in your ear as he fucks into you deeper, “God, you’re so perfect, want to fill you with babies so bad.” He moans louder and lifts your legs over his shoulder now, his hips pressing deeper into your pelvis. You don’t know where this is coming from, but you like it. You moan loudly as he fucks harder, more feral now.

Law places his hand over your stomach and presses down so you can feel his cock hit near your cervix with each thrust. “I bet you would look so good as a mommy, filled up with my cum huh? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck you full with my kids?” His filthy words bring you closer to your orgasm. Law brings your lifted legs forward to your chest, pressing down hard with his body and locking you into a mating press.

“Fuck Law, please it feels so good, wanna be a mommy, want your kids,” You moan out in overwhelming pleasure, his hips rocking into you relentlessly feels so good.

“Gonna cum, want to cum inside of you.” He pants out, hips never slowing. You can feel your orgasm creep up, a white hot flame building in you about to burst. It builds and builds until you still and feel it pulse, you cum on his cock and you cum hard. A few more thrusts and he follows soon after, spilling inside of you. It feels like it goes on forever, it’s so hot and wet you feel like it’ll never stop but it feels so good that you don’t want it to stop.

Law soon pulls out of you, the mixture of cum dripping your of your hole and onto the sheets below, “Fuck, you’re so good for me baby, that was so good.” He gets up to grab a towel and clean up the mess the two of you made. He comes back soon and gets to work quickly so the two of you can change back into your pajamas and sleep soundly.

#trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #law smut #trafalgar law smut #one piece x reader #one piece smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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hyperactively-me · 4 months

Text

king!ghost x reader -- duties

warnings: none

Five months.

Five months, two weeks, three days, and seven hours since he’s been gone.

More weeks pass, and you’ve fallen into your role quite comfortably. You have no more troubles juggling daily tasks, council meetings, and managing the kingdom’s affairs. The weight of your responsibility has become a familiar companion, and you navigate the challenges with a grace born from necessity. Yet, Simon’s absence has gnawed you to your bones.

You were barred from stepping even a single toe outside of the castle gates, confined to the castle walls. It had frustrated you to no end, but you understood where the concern stemmed from. Obviously.

The war continues, and each day brings its own set of difficulties. The reports from the front lines aren’t as optimistic as they once were, but there’s still a glimmer of hope. The Southern Kingdom persists in its aggressive pursuit, but Kastron’s forces stand resilient. Simon’s letters start to arrive at irregular intervals, long stretches of time going by without hearing from him.

It makes you nervous, only receiving letters every three to four weeks instead of the usual once a week.

Your worry etches lines on your face as you pore over the maps and reports. The uncertainty of Simon’s safety hangs heavy in the air, and the constant dread becomes a silent companion in your daily life. Your familiar routine is resolutely tainted with the anxiety of the unknown.

Soap remains a steadfast friend, standing by your side throughout the days. Some days, you don’t really see him, other days he’s practically glued to your side. He’s become not just a protector, knight, and guard, but someone you can be vulnerable with. A true friend.

One evening, as you sit in the dining room with Soap, a familiar voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Your Majesty, a messenger has arrived with urgent news,” announces a royal guard, stepping into the room.

You look up, setting down your fork. You have to take a breath, wanting to groan about how you haven’t had a moment of peace in months.

You know Soap is already running through strategies in his mind, wanting to take some of the burden off of you.

“What news do they bring?” you ask wearily.

The guard hesitates before delivering the message. “The Southern Kingdom has launched a major offensive. Our forces are engaged in battle, and we need reinforcements.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. The war has escalated, and the threat to Kastron has never been more imminent. Soap’s expression darkens as he stands by your side, exchanging a glance that conveys the gravity of the situation.

“We need to act quickly,” Soap says, his voice steady. “I’ll gather our forces here and organize them to be sent to the front lines immediately.”

He stands from his seat, his armor clinking as he moves. The urgency in his demeanor is quite apparent, and you nod in agreement. Soap’s efficiency and decisiveness makes you feel slightly better, knowing that he’s capable. As Soap departs to mobilize the forces, you rise from your seat. The familiar routine of your ruling takes over, and you find yourself issuing orders to prepare for the impending conflict.

. . .

Later in the week, you’re faced with more harrowing news of villages spread throughout Kastron who were unfortunately caught in the crossfire of the war.

The reports of the collateral damage weigh heavily on your heart. Villages once filled with life and laughter are now marred by the scars of war. The people, innocent bystanders caught in the turmoil, look to you for guidance and aid.

Now, more than ever, you’re spending all of your effort in your waking hours to provide them with relief. The castle’s war room became a somber gathering place as you, Soap, and key advisors discuss what supplies and support is to be sent to the villagers.

“I will not let my own people suffer,” you declare, determination burning in your eyes. “We must send help to these villages immediately. Food, medical supplies—whatever they need. I want it done, now.”

Many advisors nod in agreement. “We’ll organize relief efforts. Ensuring the safety of our citizens is of utmost importance, your majesty.”

As they begin coordinating the relief missions, you allocate resources and personnel to help the affected villages. You go through countless lists and inventories of important supplies, deeming which ones are needed and necessary to be distributed to the afflicted villages. You also spend time gathering doctors, knights, and other important personnel to send them out to tend to the villages. The castle’s front courtyards transform into bustling hubs as supplies are gathered and medical teams prepare to depart.

In the midst of the chaos, a messenger arrives with a letter. The familiar wax seal of the royal family signifies that it’s a letter from Simon. A surge of anticipation courses through your veins as you break the seal quickly, hands slightly shaky from the adrenaline.

Your eyes scan the familiar writing, clutching the paper tightly. The letter carries both relief and worry. Simon recounts the intensity of recent battles and expresses concern for the well-being of Kastron. He reassures you of his safety multiple times, yet it does little to ease your heart. He emphasizes the importance of your resilience, saying that your efforts from the castle have not gone unnoticed from the battlefield.

As you absorb his scratchy handwriting, Soap approaches, his gaze curious. “News from the front lines?” he asks quietly.

You nod, a mixture of emotions bubbling within. “Yes. Simon is well, but he doesn’t seem as optimistic as they once were. I mean, the letter was dated about two weeks ago, so there’s no way of telling what’s currently going on.”

Soap’s brow furrows in concern. “Well, we just sent the reinforcements a few days ago, I’m confident they'll do more than help.”

You appreciate Soap's attempt to offer reassurance. “I hope so. It’s just, the war hasn’t let up at all, and it’s really starting to concern me… And everyone keeps saying that we’re doing well despite some setbacks, but I can’t help but feel as though something bad is going to happen…”

Soap places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I ken that feeling. It’s a heavy burden, but remember, Kastron has weathered storms, and we’ll weather this one. Yer doing more than you realize. And, nothing bad will happen, not with me around and his majesty out there alongside Price and Gaz. We’ve got this.”

You swallow thickly, nodding. You take a few breaths, trying to calm your frayed nerves.

He’s right, after all. You have Soap here looking after you, and a castle packed to the brim with guards and knights. You sent out reinforcements to struggling villages, you sent out hundreds of more soldiers to the front lines. You’ve been taking the reins in every single Kastronian affair, from advising noble people to organizing relief efforts. Your determination and resilience have been the beacon for your people, a symbol of hope in these trying times.

You’ve got this.

. . .

Days turn into nights, and nights into more weeks. The war room remains a constant hub of activity, but there’s a sense of progress. Reports start to arrive detailing the impact of the reinforcements and the relief missions. Villages that were once on the brink of collapse are now showing signs of recovery. The people, though scarred, hold on to the hope you've instilled in them.

As the days go by, the momentum continues to shift. The Southern Kingdom, faced with the new Kastronian reinforcements, begins to slowly lose its steam. Not to say the threat is receding, but you now have more hope than you’ve had since the war started.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you and Soap find yourselves on the balcony overlooking the courtyard. The sounds of the night echo a strange sense of serenity and ominous undertones despite the ongoing turmoil.

Soap leans against the balcony railing, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “Ye’ve done well, yer majesty. The people look up to ye, and I think we’ve gotten past the worst of it. We’re on the path to recovery.”

You turn to him, grateful for his presence. “And I couldn't have done it without you, Soap.”

He gives you a half-smile, “Nah, you give me way too much credit. I’ve done nothing. It’s all you, yer majesty. All you.”

You smile, shaking your head. You can see where he’s coming from.

Soap’s eyes meet yours, a glint of sincerity reflecting in them. “But I appreciate the sentiment. It's been a tough road. Yer strong, resilient, and caring. The people see that, and they believe in you.”

You lean against the balcony, the night air carrying some unexplained tension. “It’s not over yet, Soap. The war has really affected everyone, and even if we’re turning the tide, there’s still a long way to go.”

Soap nods, understanding your hesitancy. “Aye, there is. But ye’ve already set the wheels in motion for a better future. The relief efforts, everything you’ve been doing, it’s all making a difference, ‘specially in the long run.”

As you both stand in silence, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves, and the distant sounds of the horses in the stables break through to you. Soap breaks the silence, his voice low but determined. “I just also wanted to say, yer doing Simon proud. I can see it in everything ye do. And when he comes back, he’ll find you in your prime, and Kastron stronger than ever.”

A bittersweet smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Thank you, Soap. I just wish he were here to see it for himself.”

Soap places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “He’ll be back. And when he does, Kastron will be upright. Ye’ve kept the flame burning, y’know.”

The war is not over, but the worst seems to have passed.

Or so you thought.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

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doliacuddles · 25 days

Text

CRIMSON OBSESSION.

𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾! 𝖫𝗎𝖼𝗂𝖿𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾! 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋

Yandere! Lucifer | Yandere! Alastor

❝In the twilight of desire, the shadows of lost love intertwine.❞

Both Yandere! Lucifer and Yandere! Alastor are deeply obsessed with you, each believing you are their most precious possession and that no one else has the right to have you.

Yandere! Lucifer sees in you the embodiment of his lost love, and his desire to protect you is mixed with his memories and longings from the past. To him, you are the opportunity to redeem his past mistakes and find a new reason to live.

On the other hand, Yandere! Alastor finds in you an irresistible challenge, a prey worthy of his manipulation and control. Your resistance to his advances only fuels his desire to possess you completely, making you the masterpiece of his twisted art of domination.

The rivalry between them arises not only from their obsession with you but also from the desire to prove who is the true master of your heart. Each sees the other as an obstacle in their path to your absolute possession.

Yandere! Lucifer resorts to his traps and subtle manipulations to keep Yandere! Alastor away from you, convinced that his pure love and desire to protect you will surpass any trickery from the smiling demon.

Meanwhile, Yandere! Alastor uses his charisma and cunning to undermine the efforts of Yandere! Lucifer, playing with your emotions and planting doubts about the true nature of his love for you.

Both are willing to go to extremes to ensure that you are theirs and theirs alone, regardless of the consequences for others or even for yourself.

Every gesture you make becomes a battlefield for manipulation between Yandere! Lucifer and Yandere! Alastor, both striving to win your favor and discredit the other. Your innocence is their greatest weapon and your vulnerability, their greatest temptation.

Yandere! Lucifer delves into his past as he observes each of your movements, seeking signs of his lost love in your behavior and appearance. Each similarity fills him with a melancholic ecstasy, but also feeds his desperation to protect you from any danger.

Meanwhile, Yandere! Alastor surrounds you with his charm and sinister smile, weaving a web of deceit and manipulations around you. Every word of his is like a discordant note in a seductive song, drawing you towards him while distancing you from any other.

The rivalry between them reaches its climax when their strategies collide head-on, unleashing a dangerous confrontation that threatens to engulf you in the fire of their obsession. You are the prize at stake in their twisted game of love and power.

As the rivalry between Yandere! Lucifer and Yandere! Alastor intensifies, you find yourself in the midst of a whirlwind of emotions and dangers, trapped between two dark forces that would do anything to have you. Your destiny has become irrevocably intertwined with theirs, and only time will tell who will emerge victorious in this battle for your heart and soul.

In the heart of Pentagram City, the hustle and bustle of infernal activity filled the air as Vox, the feared Overlord, strolled with his characteristic elegance through the twisted streets. At his side, you walked with a smile, enjoying the company of the powerful demon, unaware of the jealous gazes watching you from the shadows.

Alastor and Lucifer had hidden in a dark corner, watching with fiery eyes the interaction between you and Vox. Their original plan to work together to keep you away from the influence of the Overlord was interrupted by the scene they witnessed. Vox grabbed your arm with a loving smile, and in that moment, jealousy burned in the hearts of Alastor and Lucifer like voracious flames.

A jealous fury blazed in their eyes as they watched Vox touch you with such familiarity. Their claws gripped the ground as they prepared to intervene and rescue you from the clutches of the Overlord, but before they could act, the scene reached a critical point.

Upon feeling Vox's grip, a spark of discomfort crossed your gaze. However, before you could say a word, a flash of darkness passed over the faces of Alastor and Lucifer. The unleashed fury in them manifested in an instant, almost like an impending infernal storm.

With quick and threatening movements, Alastor and Lucifer lunged towards Vox, each determined to protect you from his influence. Their maniacal laughter filled the air as they unleashed their power against the Overlord, almost with the intention of making him disappear completely.

Chaos reigned in the streets of Pentagram City as the rivalry between the three powerful demons reached a critical point. Amidst the turmoil, you found yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions, unsure whether to fear Vox, Alastor, and Lucifer, or the intensity of your own feelings as you struggled to find a way out of this dangerous situation.

After unleashing their fury against Vox, Alastor and Lucifer abruptly stopped when the chaos around them began to dissipate. Their fiery eyes met in a tense silence, a fleeting understanding passing between them as they breathed heavily.

Then, they turned to you, finding your gaze with an intensity that made you shiver. Without a word, each took one of your arms and dragged you away from the chaotic scene, disappearing into the shadows of Pentagram City.

They walked in silence, their footsteps echoing in the tense air as they distanced themselves from civilization and ventured into the dark forests surrounding the city. Finally, they arrived at a small cabin hidden among the twisted trees, a refuge secluded from the world of sinners.

With determination in their actions, Alastor and Lucifer pushed you inside the cabin, closing the door behind you with a dull thud. You found yourself alone in the darkness, the whisper of the shadows enveloping you as the reality of your confinement settled in.

Through the window, you saw Alastor and Lucifer exchange a meaningful glance before disappearing into the trees, leaving you trapped in your wooden prison. You knew you had been condemned to an eternity of solitude, locked away by the relentless decision of your "protectors."

Alastor, with his theatrical and sinister voice, said from the shadows: "Now that we have ensured your safety, my dear, it is time for you to understand that only we can protect you from the clutches of those who wish to possess you. This cabin will be your refuge, and we your eternal guardians."

While Lucifer, with his melancholic yet determined tone, added: "Fear not, my sweet. Here you will be safe from the malignant influences of the outside world. Although our decision may seem drastic, it is for your own good. We will care for you here, in this sanctuary far from the sinful world."

You couldn't see them, but both demons would look at each other, with a mixture of satisfaction for having acted to protect you, but also with a shadow of jealousy and latent rivalry between them, as, despite working together to ensure your safety, their competition for your affection and devotion remains intact.

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #alastor #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader

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teyamsatan · 9 months

Text

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍𝕀𝕀: 𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕎𝕖'𝕧𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: You and Neteyam finally confront each other, after a seven year war that left you broken and bruised.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death, confrontation, admission of feelings), smut, strong language.

wc: 7k words

a/n: we're almost at the end, besties. i want to say a massive thank you for being patient with me, i have struggled with writer's block for a while now, and my life is incredibly hectic at the moment, but thank you for continuing to inspire me to write this story that has come to mean so much to me :(. i hope you enjoy this chapter, that i once again somehow feel weirdly insecure about hahaha, and i hope you'll find it was worth the wait. also this is only mildly proof read bc i am exhausted and i need to sleep ;((( i'll come back to it in the morning i promise x (also pls someone comment on the fact in the photo vi's looking up and he's looking down cause you know - rise and fall together and all)

pls don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog and tell me your thoughts, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: txepvi - spark, oare - moon, nawm - great, syä - bitter, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, tewng - loincloth, tsakarem - tsa'hik in training, yawne - beloved

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

I carved my name into your ribcage We talked of lands away from this cage

"Dad always talks about Earth as if it was a dying hole, but... I don't know."

Neteyam's head was positioned snugly in your lap as you both stared intently at the sky, trying to make sense of the shapes of clouds, and the way they passed you by like birds in the night sky, never to be seen again, just a memento of the present and how every moment was unique and precious, and needed to be cherished. You both loved doing that, in between practice sessions, or before, or after, a way to ground you and remind you there's still beauty in this world outside of what you were being taught, of how everything was in preparation for a grisly reality you both struggled to come to terms with.

"Yes?"

"The little videos we've seen, of the movies and shows Norm and Max and the other humans like to watch... and the books they make us read during English lessons and the music... it doesn't seem that bad, you know? It seems they were happy, and... good. It seemed they lived for more than just fighting and greed, more than this."

You thought about it for a while. He was right. Humans were... beautiful, in their own ways. They had love and heart and soul in a way you never thought possible - it seemed there was always beauty to be found even in the darkest of corners, even in the most unsightly of places, and that gave you hope.

"I want to be more than this, too."

Your eyes snapped from the sky to him, and his eyes met yours, boring into you with a vehemence that almost scared you. When he rose from his spot, he faced you, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath fanning over you, and your heart stumbled in your chest at the proximity and the way his smile always managed to take your breath away.

"I want to know more than this. I will learn, and I will work hard, and I will fight, but Vi, one day, you and me, we'll be free of this. Free to do whatever we want, free to spend our days like the humans in the movies, just happy and ourselves. Wouldn't you like that?"

"Yes. I'd like that."

You said, don't fret love, someday I'll be my own man, I'll be free Oh, but darling, did you mean Darling, did you mean free from me?

“O’i’en…” your voice was hoarse and barely there, a croaking whisper you hardly recognised as your own, but still there. You were still here, and at least for that, you were grateful. Because there was more to your life. So much more you wanted to do and see, so much you felt you were made for and deserved, so much you still have to repent and atone for. Your mind was scrambled with visions of your past, so many of them you’ve lost count, the continuous onslaught barely ceasing as you woke, and you still felt like in a liminal state of being, not quite dead, but not quite alive, either. In those dreams, images of your old Neteyam were intertwined with his face now, much colder, much wiser, somehow even more beautiful, and confessions of “I love you” mingled with hushed whispers of “why is she not awake yet?” and commotion beyond your understanding. You needed answers. The battle, that now felt like a lifetime away to you, also somehow felt like it had just finished, and you rose from your spot with only one thought in mind: Oare was hurt. She was shot, and you needed to find her.

You wondered if it was fate, or Eywa's doing, that O'i'en was the first person you ran into, even as you were trying to avoid any semblance of another soul, the guilt and sadness mingling in you with flashes of worst-case scenarios, ones in which your distracted mind led to deaths that you will forever carry on your shoulders, that you will forever blame yourself for, that you were sure other people would, too, ones which you were too scared to prove and too spent to disprove, so you settled for ignorance and denial, at least until you found your ikran.

"Oh, Eywa, you're alive!" you were taken aback by his surprise, and by his pure, unadulterated relief and happiness as his eyes found your form, limping and bruised, with bloodied and torn garments and yet still... alive. You didn’t think O’i’en would ever want to see you again, much less acknowledge you or talk to you, but here he was, running, as much as he could, the gash in his leg preventing him from any true momentum, but still, he ran to you and enveloped you in a big hug, that you couldn’t help but reciprocate, melting into his all-too-familiar touch that’s always felt comforting and safe, and never bruising or cold.

You sighed as your mind, much as it always did, brought to its forefront another face, another body, another man that never ceased to pull you out of the moment and into whatever fantasy your mind concocted to replace reality with. As you tightened your arms around him, your palms flat against his back, you noticed your fingers being coated in warm liquid, and the feel of it, as well as the smell of metal that hit you immediately after, made you gasp and break the embrace, using whatever force you had to turn him around and inspect the wound you knew had to be bad enough, if so much blood was pouring out of it, but still couldn’t help be shocked when you were proven right.

“Fuck, your back…”

“I know… I haven’t had the chance to go see the healers yet.”

“You haven’t ha- are you serious right now? Come, let’s go now.” You almost forgot about the your plan to avoid people, too concerned for the ugly looking gash pulsating blood that trickled down his toned back, until it soaked in his soiled tewng. He didn’t let you move him, instead taking your wrists in his hand and holding you still.

“You look like you’re about to collapse, how are you still so bossy? Besides… there’s people who need it more than me.” The purple twinge in his cheeks let you know this wasn’t quite the truth. Not the whole truth. O’i’en was the most selfless person you’ve ever met, and yet, this wasn’t the whole truth. You looked tired and broken, scared and forlorn, and yet, with all your might, you tried to contort your face into something you hoped resembled the way Jake would raise the hairs above his eyes in a clearly disapproving expression, and while you lacked the most important aspect of that whole stare, it clearly worked, because he winced and broke the look you shared, choosing a spot on the ground instead.

“After… everything, I just didn’t know if I could…or should… go get help from the Tsa’hik. It feels like everywhere I look, you follow. I knew you were hurt as well, and I didn’t know if I could handle seeing you like that, or seeing you at all. But now that you’re here, I realise… I’m just happy you’re alive.”

You smiled, a small feat that felt like the hardest task you’ve ever been assigned, but still, you were glad to know there was still something salvageable about your relationship with the man you once thought you’d spent the rest of your life with.

“Come, sit. I’ll clean the wound myself.”

“You shouldn’t-“ He stopped when he noticed your look. You were too tired to be trifled with, and he was smart enough to know that.

You promised home, the kind I'd never known But here we are, skin and flesh and beating hearts And I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong

You worked in silence, as much as you could, the thoughts spiralling in your head, worse with each passing second, and although you didn’t want to ask, you knew you couldn’t avoid it any longer, not when he looked so sad and despondent, not when the gash in his back spoke to a battle fiercer than you wanted to picture, not when you couldn’t help wonder if it was all on you. With a sigh, you spoke, and watched as he went rigid with every word uttered.

“What happened, O’i’en?”

“What do you remember?”

“Nothing. I remember falling… i remember Oare getting shot.” You wince at the memory, at how it was your unsteady, tired, distracted mind that made her a vulnerable target.

“Nothing else.”

O'i'en's whole body stiffened, and your hand stilled midair, shivers pulsating in your body as dread enveloped it.

“What. Happened. O’i’en?”

"After you fell... the battle... took a turn for the worse. A lot of Na'vi died, a lot of our mounts died, too..."

"The Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem tried their best, we all did, but without you and Neteyam..."

The guilt that was big enough to almost crumble you into a mess of sobs and broken shards on the ground dulled just for a moment while his words rang in your ears, echoing until they clicked, until you made sense of their meaning.

"Neteyam...? Where was Neteyam, why wasn't he fighting?"

His body turns to face you again, his barely patched-up wound forgotten in the moment that felt ever-lasting, but not like how time stands still as you're enveloped in a kiss, but like a nightmare you can't escape from, where a moment lasts hours, where every scream is expelled in slow-motion and the monsters get closer and closer with each breath that gets lodged in your dry, hoarse throat.

"He tried to catch you, but couldn't. I think he took you back to the village. He didn't return after. They say..."

"They say he hasn't left your tent since. We've all been working, trying to get everyone back, ready for the funeral, but he... he never left the Tsa'hik's tent."

"You're wrong." What he was saying made no sense. Neteyam has done nothing but wish for your demise ever since you were both nothing more than mere children. His hatred never diminished through time, and neither did yours. You both despised each other more and more each day, with every year passed, with every instance in which neither of you relented or found it in you to be better and take the high road. This whole ordeal, this whole nightmare that only started when you woke up, it was his fault. The fact that so many people died, that you were in this state, that Oare.... fuck. Oare.

“Where are you going? You need to take it easy.”

“I need to find her. I need to make sure she’s ok, she’s probably in pain and suffering and I should be the-“

You stop when you notice his grieving grimace, his eyes fixed on the ground, tears falling at his feet, that you followed from his eyes to their demise as they splattered on the ground, the droplets hitting your ankles in the process.

“No.”

Silence. Dead silence. Death silence. Silence that you couldn’t help fill with a crescendo of denial, louder and higher pitched with every new attempt.

“No, please. Tell me you’re wrong.”

“I saw her… in the lineup.”

“The lineup?”

“Of all the dead… dead animals and na’vi. So many of them, i lost count. She was there… I’m so sorry.”

Your tears mingled with his own as they collapsed on your feet and on the grass, and you forgot for a second of your rule - no crying in front of people. You forgot this as you forgot everything else, even your own name pushed from your memory as it was flooded instead with images of her, of your sister, that you loved so much, that you cherished deeply, that you thought you’d be able to for the rest of your life, that you were now told was gone, taken from you, in spite of you… because of you.

“No…Oare, no…”

“She’s with Eywa now… I’m so sorry.”

You said, "Let's make ourselves our very own brigade, this love our shield, our blade" Oh, but darling do you see the cuts from which I bleed? It's me you've slain

"Have you seen her? Have you seen syä?"

"What do you mean, Lo'ak?"

"She's gone, bro. She's not in grandmother's tent anymore."

Neteyam felt the blood drain from his face and settle at the soles of his feet, trickling through and into the ground, until he was so empty he felt faint, he felt like he would never be the same again. So many emotions tried him, from ecstatic relief that he couldn’t even explain to himself, at the fact that you were awake, and well enough to walk, to paralysing fear that overwhelmed him, at the fact you were out in your state, that you were gone Eywa knows where, at the fact he’s now going to have to face you and talk to you.

Too many things have changed in such a short amount of time, so many things he couldn’t make sense of or understand, too many revelations and the possibility of more, of the truth, that Neteyam dreaded. A lose-lose situation, his dad would call it - either he confronted you and you told him his father misunderstood, that it wasn’t true, that you too loved him the way he loved you, which meant the last seven years of both your lives, everything you have put each other through would have been for nothing, or his father was right, and having a confirmation of your lack of feelings, which is what he thought fuelled your actions all these years, which was a truth he avoided knowing for a fact for so long, and that might be too hard to bear after all.

“We have to find her, grandma said she shouldn’t be walking around.”

“I know where she is.”

He’s always known where you were when you wanted to be alone. He’s always known because it’s a place that used to be his, his secret spot, his uncharted paradise. A place that he showed to you when you were both children, and that became a safe heaven for the both of you in time, that you took from him after your unfortunate fallout. Just one more thing you ended up taking from him in time. He couldn’t have returned to this place anyway, not with all the memories of you that plagued it, that might as well have been enclosed in a room stuck in a past that he never wanted to revisit.

It took him no time at all to find you, his mind disassociating from the walk, until it was like he blinked and he was there, in the clearing that he dreaded coming to, where the last time he came, he took it too far, the memory of the words that you spat at each other, the way his anger physically manifested itself for the first time in his life, the way he lost control of his emotions and his temper, it was all so ugly and unsightly, it hurt him even thinking about it.

Your back was turned to him as you lay on the edge of the lake, one leg dangling mindlessly in the water, and Neteyam’s heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you - your hunched shoulders, so far removed from the awe-inspiring, empowered stance you normally displayed to people. Your tail was thrashing furiously from side to side, ears pushed flat against your head that rested on your bent knee, braided hair tousled and unkept as it fell over your face, shielding you from view. Neteyam didn’t even know whether he should speak - if there was still a voice in his throat that could push sounds out, and as he tried, he heard nothing, the only sound in his ears one of muffled, panted breaths and thunderous, erratic heartbeats, that somehow drowned everything else out.

"Leave."

Neteyam ignored your words, all of his senses focused on your voice, on the sniffles that accompanied it, and what they represented. Neteyam has seen you cry only a couple times in all the time he's known you, and not once since your fallout. He was sure you would have rather swallowed a poisoned knife's blade than show weakness in front of him. He gulped audibly when he realised that if you did, that means you knew... if you did, there was no escaping the wrath that was currently embedded in your soul, that he wasn't sure would ever leave you again.

“Why are you here? You should be resting.”

He heard you scoff, bitterness laced through your voice that normally was sweet as a yovo fruit on a summer day, that now felt spoilt, like it had been left rotting on the ground, with no one the wiser.

“Since when do you care about my wellbeing, huh? Last thing I knew I could be dead in a ditch and you’d probably throw a party and dance over my grave. Leave me be, I don't want to deal with you right now.”

"Txepvi... Just co-"

"Don't you dare call me that. You have long forsaken the right to call me that. Just fucking leave, Neteyam."

He felt anger pricking at him like a dagger he was all too familiar with, that was dull and middling, but whose sting still hurt if pushed into his skin at the correct angle, in the right spot, where he was weak.

"I'm not leaving until you get back to the tent. Tsa'hik's orders." That was a lie, but one he felt at liberty to make, since it was quite certain his grandmother would want you back resting, and not galavanting in the woods, with a wound that almost killed you, that made you easy prey for the apex predators lurking in the thick foliage.

I didn't obliterate these walls for you to come and raid my home And here you are right next to me Ironically, I've never felt more alone

“Why did you stay with me?”

Whatever anger he had immediately dissipated like droplets water of a hot day, replaced by the same fear that was plaguing him early, that not even the adrenaline coursing through his veins could overpower. What was he supposed to say? It's not like he had an answer to give you - he couldn't even conceptualise it for himself, much less put it into words that would make sense, that would ever satisfy your morbid curiosity.

“Answer me, Neteyam.”

“I don’t know.”

You rose from your spot on the edge of the lake, and when you turned to face him and your eyes locked, his breath lodged in his throat. You looked anguished, sadder than he's ever seen you, puffy eyes so red, it scared him, cheeks purple and stained, and swollen, wet lips opened to accommodate the heaved breaths and quiet sobs that you tried your hardest to push down, so that he wouldn't see.

It was too late, now. He could see. He could see it all, and it scared him, what you were doing to him, these feelings that were rushing down with enough force to make him buckle under their weight, just like a waterfall that crashed into the river below, warping it with its power.

“No, we’re not doing this shit anymore. My ikran is dead. People are dead, Neteyam. All because of us, because this stupid war, that you caused. That you started. I’m done with the games, and the mystery, and your stupid mouth staying shut. You don’t know? Figure it out. Now.”

I fell for you faster than I fell apart And I guess I'm the one to blame for letting myself fall too hard

"I don't fucking know, OK? I just needed to - fuck. I needed to make sure you'll live."

"Why?! Why the fuck would you care if I live or die? Why? You haven't cared for more than half our lives, and now, when you would have been more useful on the battlefield, when you could have prevented this mess that you caused to begin with, now you want to play the fucking hero?"

“That I started? Are you hearing yourself right now? I wasn’t the one that pushed, and pushed, and pushed until whatever thread it was that still bound us together turned from wool to steel and snapped, yawne. You made it your life purpose to ruin mine, at every turn, in every way imaginable, for years. I did nothing to you, damn it. I just stopped talking to you. I didn’t hurt you, or purposefully tried to make you ache or suffer, I tried to keep my mouth shut and go about my life, without infringing on yours. I didn’t do anything to hurt you, for fuck’s sa-“

“You keeping your mouth shut and going about your life as if your life wasn’t impermeably connected to mine was what fucking hurt me, Neteyam! You saying nothing, doing nothing, acting like I didn’t exist, like I was just a toy you outgrew, that was worse than anything I could have ever fucking done to you, don’t you understand that? Do you understand that you abandoned me? Me, Neteyam, the person who was always there for you, the person who always had your back. Your best friend, your confidant, your training buddy, your sister. I was everything to you, and you just acted like that meant nothing at all."

"It meant everything! And my father fucking ruined it, and you ruined it. You ruined it, and I'll never, ever forgive you." the intensity behind his eyes, glistening with unshed tears that reflected the rays of the sun hitting his golden irises, the ones that put stars to shame and brought you to your knees, scared you. You came here to cry, and let it out. You came here to mourn. You didn't expect this. Didn't want this. But, for the first time in years, Neteyam was talking to you. Neteyam was telling you truths buried deep within his soul, deep behind walls you've tried to climb and pierce through longer than you wanted to admit to, and given the little crack of light you saw shine through, you knew you couldn't let this opportunity pass you by.

"What do you mean?"

He looked tired, you realised faintly. It was true... he did stay with you. His face was sunken and caved in, dark purple bags under his eyes, and you traced the tears that brightened his tanhì momentarily, as they caressed his skin, before falling down his neck.

"Tell me it's not true, what you said to him all those years ago. Tell me he didn't hear you right. That he misunderstood."

"Who?"

"My dad. I heard him... telling my grandmother that you'd never want to mate with me. Or be Tsa'hik. He said you said that. Tell me he was wrong. Tell me I was wrong for believing him. Tell me I was an idiot for not coming to you sooner, for shutting you out of my life. For letting this break me. Please."

Shock stilled you in your spot, replacing blood with current that electrified every ounce of your being. What? After all this time, so much time that kids were born and grew up, time in which you watched Tuk go from barely a babe to a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, beautiful girl, time in which you gained and lost your ikran, in which you gained a family and lost the future you thought you were always made for, next to the person you thought you'd always have your back... so much time has passed, and to hear it, the reason, was so unbelievable it didn't feel like it was real. You thought about the conversation that he was referring to, that you had with Jake in what feels like a completely life to the one you were currently living. He did ask you, and you did say...

"He wasn't wrong."

I ripped my heart out and put it in your hands in hopes that we'd put up a fight How paradoxical, since now all I can think about is when will we stop trying

You watched as the intensity on his face was decimated in an instant, his eyes blank and distant as all life seemed to drain from them as you spoke words that you spat without truly even thinking about it. Oare's death, still so fresh in your mind, hurt so much, made every fibre of your being scream in agony, and this new revelation, of the reason of her death being attributed to something you said as a little kid in passing, that he overheard and never bothered to fact-check, made what little sanity you had left to evaporate and what remained was a bitter precipitate of fury and pain, that you wanted him to feel, that you needed to inflict.

"This is why Oare's dead? This is why so many people are dead, because of one comment I made to your father seven years ago in passing? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Your teeth were bared as you spoke, and the emptiness behind his eyes was replaced with furious anger as he listened, as he realised you had no intention of putting his mind or heart at ease, as you realised he didn't deserve it. Not after everything that's happened, not after the way your soul crashed and imploded inside your body at the guilt that ate you alive, that churned and ground your bones into fine dust, guilt that will never, ever leave you.

“I was just a fucking child, don’t you understand that? Do you understand how insane it is to punish me for something that happened when I was just twelve years old?!"

“Well, you know what? I was also just twelve years old! And I loved you, Vi.” The break in his voice hurt you, like a shard of glass plunged in the soft of your skin, and you looked down to try to see if blood was coming out of the wound that wasn't there. There was nothing. Just emptiness, like the vast chasm that separated you, that always will, no matter the fact he was so close to you, you could feel his breath over your face, your scent in your nostrils, his glistening eyes big as planets, eyes you could get lost in easily, you could fall into as easily as falling asleep.

Seeing the unshed tears once more made tears gather in your own. The nickname, that you haven’t heard in all these years, that felt like a relic from a life long forgotten, long forsaken, knocked the air out of you, just as much as his vulnerability, that you weren’t used to seeing anymore did.

“I fucking loved you. You were everything to me. And you broke me.”

“I had to watch you prove me right every day of my life. Watched as you fought every day to push me away from my own family, and my own dad, who obviously always found you better than me. Watched as you moved on, with no issue, and dated Na’vi after Na’vi, letting them touch you and kiss you, knowing I could see it, in practice, where I always was, I- “

“You fucking did the same thing! You pushed me away, you never talked to me. You abandoned me, without as much as a goodbye. Without any explanation. You fucked girls anywhere I could see, behind my tent, so I could hear you. You chose them all so they bore no resemblance to me, so I could know how much you hated me, every time I saw their faces. You ruined my relationship with the one person who loved me, who was good for me. You fu-"

All you do is blindside me, it's hard to be brave But when the night cuts into the day, it's your love I crave I must've thanked my lucky stars too much They left me sitting in too much dust

Your sentence was cut short by a pair of lips crashing into yours, soft and desperate, clinging on to you like his fingers were wrapped tightly around your throat, like if letting go was unimaginable, like it was too painful to envision. In your dreams, Neteyam's lips were bruising and calloused and cold, and no matter how fiercely you wanted to protest, no matter how much you hated yourself for it, they were the only lips you ever dreamt about. And yet right now, they were nothing like you imagined, nothing like you feared, and despite the hurt, and the pain and the anguish and the anger, despite it all, you couldn't help reciprocating, couldn't help the moan the left you as his other hand found your hips, holding you impossibly closer, while your own hands found the back of his neck and his hair, that you tugged on until he growled. When he broke the kiss and looked at you, hunger and ache clear in his bright eyes, that looked more black than yellow as his hand found your jaw, that he lifted to tilt your head back, pushing his thumb past your lips so you'd keep quiet, you let out a small whimper, and watched as his pupils dilated even more, almost overtaking his beautiful, molten irises.

"Just...Stop talking."

His lips found the place on your jaw where his fingers just were, and the feeling of him on you burned like molten lava, and you push your head back, giving him access to all of you. Your mind felt numb - a battle within itself as it was trying to come to terms with all the crushing emotions that were fighting for dominion over your thoughts and your soul, each one more devastating than the last - from the guilt that you knew would plague you for the rest of your life, that you didn’t think you’d ever be able to overcome, to the grief of losing your spirit sister, to confusion over what you were doing, over wondering if this was a mistake, to the sadness at Neteyam’s confession and the knowledge he loved you, and you pushed him away without meaning to, to earth-shattering anger at the realisation that this whole ordeal started over nothing and could have been solved if he only ever talked to you and finally, to the hatred that still blossomed, even after all this time, and finally, the desire, pure, unadulterated desire to have him, to be owned, to know what it feels like to be wholly his. You didn’t know which one would win, but you could only hope there’ll still be something left of you when the battle found its victor in the midst of all the chaos.

He was rough as he pushed you until you tipped backwards, but his caress was gentle as he caught you and made sure you weren't hurt as your body hit the damp, soft grass. When he spread your legs and kneeled in between them, you knew you whatever ounce of self-restraint you had was swiftly thrown out the window, and you knew the relief you'd get to feel once he was done with you would be worth the regret in the morning - at least, it felt so right now. His fingers dug into your thighs as they massaged upwards, from your shins to your hips, and when both his thumbs caressed the sensitive spot at the edge of your loincloth, your breath hitched in your throat, silently begging him for more, hoping he wouldn't make you say words out loud you could never take back.

As if he could hear your thoughts, he spoke, his hands stilling on the knot of your tewng.

"Tell me you want this. I need to know you want this, or I stop."

You hissed at him, conflicted beyond words and reason, because no, of course you didn't. But yes, you did. Of course you did.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you, Neteyam."

At your words, his hands dropped from your hips and in an instant, he was on top of you, his gaze stopping the breath in your lungs as he looked at you, his hand gripping your throat once more, the aggressive gesture at odds with the softness in his eyes and the way he was caressing your jaw in barely-there touches with his thumb.

"I hate you more. So much more. I still need an answer, yawne."

You stared daggers at him, and refused to talk, but as you wrapped your fingers around his cummerbund and pulled him in, until his lips met yours in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues, throbbing deep in you at the way he moaned in your mouth, you knew words were meaningless, and words couldn't convey the feelings that tormented you, anyway. You reached for his tewng and masterfully unwrapped it, feeling his cock spring free and slap against your abdomen, and the weight of it made you gasp, a smirk erupting from his face in response.

You needed him. You needed him to numb the pain the he created, that you created, you needed the emptiness that came from being filled to the brim, the fleeting peace that would come with the high that you knew he could provide, because it hurt. It all hurt, and you couldn't stand it. You reached your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length, your slick leaving a wet patch in the fabric, that was increasing in size by the second, just at the thought of how he'd feel stretching you out. He let out a small groan at the way you were caressing him, running your thumb over the slit, smearing the precum that was leaking, that you felt a sudden urge to taste.

"F-fuck!"

"Take off my tewng, Neteyam."

"For once in your life, you will not get to dictate how this goes."

Despite his words, he listened, and you winced at the weight of his body being lifted off you, instantly missing the contact and comfort it provided. But he wasn't gone long, as he removed your clothes, and you tried not too think of how good his gaze felt on you, how empowering the desire in his eyes as he took you in, how he had to lick his lips and swallow audibly, as if he was a starved man in a desert, and you were his fata morgana.

He took no time in attaching himself to you again, the thick head of his cock prodding at your entrance, and the velvety feel of him against your folds involuntarily makes you shut your eyes closed and your head push back, need heightening at the way he starts licking and sucking at your breast, leaving purple marks in the wake of his lips and tongue, that you want on every inch of you, that you wanted to cum on as he made your knees buckle and your vision spot.

His face finds a home in the crook of your neck as he slides inside you, taking his time to feel you, every inch of your walls, as they stretched to accommodate for his size, and it feels so good, too good, his cock in you, his tail around your thigh, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin, or gripping at your waist, his breath on your neck, his teeth sinking in you so he could stop himself from telling you all the confessions bubbling in his chest, all the ways it's all making sense to him now, that he's never hated you, he's just hated not having you, not being able to call you his. Still, as he bottoms out in you, he can't help some of them from spilling out, the dam of his heart slowly coming apart at the seams.

"It had to be someone who had no resemblance to you. It had to, Vi. Don't you understand? Because any time I looked at anyone, I saw you in them. Their eyes, or lips, their tanhì or stripes, even the smallest similarity killed me, reminded me how much I hate you, how much I want to, how much I don't. I've wanted to hate you so much, I tried so hard, but you were in every dream, in every fantasy, you haunted me my whole life."

You did understand. You understood too well. That's why you chose O'i'en. Because he was nothing like the Neteyam you came to know in the years you became an adult. Because his touch was warm and made you feel nothing. Because his eyes bore no resemblance to his, the glimmer of amber nothing like the green flickers that felt like were Eywa's inspiration for the forest that surrounded you; O'i'en's tanhì were scattered like light through the leaves and branches of the trees, unlike Neteyam's, which were like the star dust that created all life in the Universe, that shone brighter than any light post, that shone so brightly, they led you home every night when you were young.

The tears gathered in your eyes as he started a steady pace of his hips, conflicting feelings tugging at the string of your already broken and torn apart heart, whose heart beats felt dragging and echoing, different to the two sounds you were used to, instead pulsating three syllables throughout your whole body, enveloping you and taking over your mind, forcing you to come to terms with issues you thought you buried so deeply, you'd never have to see again.

I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you, I hate you....

I love you.

"Neteyam..."

"I know. You're doing so well for me. So well. Fuck, you feel so, so good."

You moan at his words, the desire bubbling inside of you quickly reaching heights you wouldn't mind falling from, being pushed from, so you could feel the euphoria that came along with falling, without having to worry about the inevitable crash that would follow, at least not right now.

"I can feel you squeezing me. Come for me, yawne. I need to feel you come all over my cock."

For the first time since he's called you that, the term of endearment didn't feel ironic or facetious, and for once in your life, you had no problem obeying his orders - when you came, you came violently, legs shaking and back arched, whimpers and moans pushing past your lips unrestrained, and the sounds made his cock twitch inside of you, his own orgasm so close he could taste it. He lets you ride your high fully before pulling out of you, thick ropes of iridescent cum painting your abdomen and chest, that, in your fucked out mind, you almost wish painted your still-throbbing walls instead.

You know all my dreams, you were one, so it seemed And I love you but with you, it's heartache I breathe You gave it your all, just with everything you took from me

It was almost... domestic, the way he was asleep peacefully next to you, his breath so steady and deep, and so relaxed, it almost sounded like purring, his strong, muscular arms holding you close as you lay on your back, looking at the stars, bright, blurry orbs through the distorted lens of your tears, that couldn't stop falling, no matter how much you willed them away. The crash did come eventually, in the few hours since, and it felt like it broke all your bones in the process.

"You and me, we're meant to rise and fall together."

Those words, that became the overarching theme of your relationship, words that you never realised when you spoke them as a child that you would both take so literally, rang in your ears like a broken record your mind could no longer turn off. You were right, all those years ago. Even back then, you knew. You and Neteyam did rise together. From children to adults, from pupils to teachers, from toy soldiers to hardened warriors, rose you did, until you were so high up, the air was thin and suffocating. But nothing compared to your penchant for falling. You fell hard, from grace, from cloud nine, for the other's other schemes and plots, for your own compulsions, obsessions and greedy desires, and mostly, for each other. Your relationship was fire and ice, it was everything and nothing all at once, a war you fought and a war you lost, a war in which innocents had to die and lives were lost, a war you were finally tired of.

You and Neteyam rose and fell together, over and over again, your whole lives. A twisted carousel that wouldn't stop until one of you jumped off it, and with Oare's death, and the shame that followed it, you finally realised it had to be you.

In the early hours of the morning, after a quick wash in the cold lake, you found your way back to the village and straight to the Tsa'hik's tent. You were happy to see her, and nervous to talk, but you knew the quicker you got it out, the quicker it would be over. So with a deep breath, you spoke your piece, and hoped she'd listen.

“Ma Tsa’hik. I’m here to ask you to let me out of this arrangement. Please. I can’t do this, not with Neteyam. I’m done.”

Oh, my love Is this the end for us? Maybe we've had enough

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak@sweetbread-m@eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog@hannabanana-09 @xylianasblog @misscaller06 @yeosxxx @myh3artttt @teyamsbitch@musicownsme @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @zoetrope1997 @itsmy-alteregohere @ntymavtr @curlszx88 @maki-z @riatesullironalite @baahsaama @luna-salem @teyamtesuli @koing-slvt @call-me-doll-face @puresirius-things @saturniac @call-me-doll-face @dreaming-of-the-reality @whorefortim

(sorry if i missed anyone this list is getting so longgg)

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me-uglypretty · 3 months

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my brother's wife

Pairing: Carol Danvers x F!Reader

Summary: Carol faces the conflict of war, and the love of her life or more accurately, the sister of a man she married.

Warning: (18+), fluff, mention of battle/war | 4k words

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The most confident, bravest, strongest, and coolest hero—spoken with enthusiasm by the honest words of Kamala Khan—was revealed as the heavily adored Princess of Aladna. Captain Marvel, a genuine royalty among her cheerful people. A princess that roused such joy and smiles from those around the symphonic planet.

“That’s so cool! You’re a princess!” Kamala had exclaimed after the moment of revelation had passed. “Oh my god, my favourite…my idol…my captain is also a princess,” she mumbled to herself, eyes widening at each word, and the absolute look of shock on her face when she stared adoringly at Carol.

On the other side, Monica appeared equally bewildered of the infamous hero’s newly revealed title. Carol tried relaying the reasons for her status at the planet, and only received teasing remarks that made her both annoyed and flush at their comical reactions.

Distraction soon arises for the two to further their teasing when the music begun playing. Aladna’s adored couple, the prince and princes dancing together dreamily, voices blending into the other to spoken words of a coming war.

Prince Yan was quick with his reaction, immediately directing them towards a guest room to prepare themselves for battle. Furthering their planning as he spoke privately with Carol then dismissing himself as the three were left assembling their own plan of action for Dar-Benn’s attack.

However, their conversation came to a halt when hushed voices were heard from outside their room. The sounds had diverted their attention towards the closed door, several seconds passed before the wide door was pushed open forcefully and someone entered in a rushed manner, scaring both Monica and Kamala while Carol merely reacted to the sudden intrusion.

“You’re here,” was spoken first, voice conveying brazen anger and eyes staring straight into those visibly cowering. “And you brought guest.”

Carol had flinched. Those words fell harshly from a mouth always sounding so sweet, someone she missed dearly and greatly from the unpleasant time apart. But when her own wide eyes met those orbs seemingly glimmering in pure wrath—she had smiled, dissolved was the sudden fear of what may happened, forgotten was the war that would soon arrive.

It was you, wasn’t it?

Why wouldn’t Carol smile at the sight of you?

It’s foolish to simply overlook the clear irritation on your face, but Carol had always reacted as foolishly possible when it came to you. Her eyes linger on your form, trailing from the strict look on your face to the hues of your clothes that appeared different from the occupants of Aladna. A sort of darkness looms in tinge of yellow, surely making you recognisable in the crowd. Though, that was undoubtedly the truth when you appeared in any places. A beauty like yours, and Carol crumbles at the sight.

You were there. Carol was there. A border that separated two was the upcoming war. Perhaps, it was the continuous voices that sang to their hearts desire, rarely disturbed by anger and unlike how a certain flair of anger seems stuck on your face.

But you’re…you.

“Why…why is Carol smiling?” Kamala whispered, nudging her elbow to Monica’s side at the question. The oldest between two simply shrugged, far too invested to know of her aunt’s new drama.

It was true. Carol was smiling at the sight of you, a stranger simply stood by the closed door. Hands fisted by your side, a frown settled deep on your face as your eyebrows furrowed and round eyes stared in her direction, anger that seems to slip gradually into confusion as your eyes examined the strangers in the room. Then, almost as if the realisation had settled when you noticed the younger girl, your glare was fixed back on Carol with madden intensity.

Carol cleared her throat first, mouth parted to say something then deciding on approaching you instead. “I know what you’re going to say—”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

Those words carried an unpleasant silence through the thickening tension. Carol’s approach was blocked as you swerve around her and walked towards the two guests.

Kamala takes an uncertain step back, seemingly pressing her body closer to Monica. Her wide eyes, those pools of soft brown swirls with an expression of fear, confusion, and adoration.

You lifted your fisted hand, extending towards Kamala and revealed a piece of pink candy in your palm. The puzzled look on her face fades seconds as she accepted the candy and uttered a soft thank you. After the minimal interaction, you glance towards the older woman stood beside her. Monica doesn’t offer a smile of any sort as your eyes squints at her like you found her familiar, before nodding your head at her.

“If you need anything, let me know. I’ll be waiting outside this room,” you stated sternly and spun around to make an exit.

Carol’s hand almost reached for yours but dropped by her side with a tired sigh as a hand was raised in her direction, silencing her from uttering anything else. The warning look remained on your face as you opened the door and closed it behind you.

It was almost too quiet till the sound of soft steps reached Carol’s side.

A hum was followed by the question, “So…who was that?”

Carol seemed to had awaken from her swirling thoughts. The clear curiosity was on Kamala and Monica’s face, neither gathering a reasonable answer for the slightly awkward and entirely too conflicted situation. The oldest of them had choose to ignore the questions looming in utter confusion and gestured for them to prepare for the upcoming battle.

It's you, it’s her, and it’s time she set aside her personal matters for the sake of their safety.

Out of the various disastrous occurrence, you weren’t prepared for the forced warfare in your peaceful planet. A home that was always glowing in hues of bright colours, people sharing the sounds of their love and embracing each other tenderly. Despite the conflict that arise at some point that made you dim, it was nothing alike the beliefs that your parents had taught you, and it wasn’t alike the absolute chaos you had witness.

Now, you were stood by the window that exhibited a view of the unexplored galaxy and you were fuming at the sight. A single foot taps rhythmically on the metal flooring, it was a song that your mother used to sing when nights were far too dark and worry expands in your chest. The kind of agony that carried forward as you grew older and when you were forced into the space ship with her.

It's for the best, your brother had claimed and pushed your body towards the hovering ship. The best of his decision was questioned in sake for you or for him. You assumed the latter was the obvious answer.

“How are you doing?” the tender voice asked and instantly, you smelled the slightly burnt aroma that carried through the air. “Coffee?” was offered soon after with a friendly smile.

When you accepted the offer, instantly did the warmth from the mug spreads to the width of your palms. A soft hum resonates through your throat as you sipped the bitter drink tentatively, the warmth doesn’t settle the ache in your chest but offer a sort of comfort from the chill that surrounds the unaccustomed space.

A gentle whisper of a thank you, and seconds after, your gaze met those of dark brown eyes swirling with sympathy.

“We weren’t formally introduced…but I’m Monica,” she introduced herself after offering the beverage. “That’s Kamala,” she pointed her thumb back, and you followed her gaze towards the young girl sat at the edge of the desk, kicking her feet absently then waving shyly in greeting at realisation that the attention had diverted to her.

You nodded your head first, followed by the confession that seemingly pulled her attention entirely on you. “I know…you,” and timid smile was revealed on your face.

Monica’s eyes seemingly widen at the revelation, eyebrows furrowed and mouth parted with questions lingering in her mind since your appearance. A taunting sense that hasn’t provided her with an idea of you.

Though, the wanting conversation was abruptly stopped by sounds of metal clattering to the ground, echoing throughout the shared space. Grumbles of sort was heard moments after, and Monica smiled, an apology lingering at the tip of her tongue as she hastily walked towards the urgent noise.

It left you alone, or at least, with the youngest among them.

Kamala’s face settled with an expression of utter concentration, the lines over her eyebrows more prominent as she squints her eyes and in return, you followed the reaction that seems to flutter out of nowhere. A moment shared between two at an hour that wasn’t great to neither, and it was the sign of a slight smile curling at her lips that warmth your heart. The commenced of a staring contest that you knew of well, a game that you had experienced with the children of Aladna.

It takes approximately ten seconds after that your façade dissolved into a smile that pulled at the muscles of your cheeks and laughter which carried happily in the air. Kamala snorted at the reaction, almost dropping the bowl of snacks in her hands from her uncontrollable laughter.

The rush of innocence in that moment, grasped at your heart and hers, which later you assumed. It seemed foreign to experience something so childlike. Life had become nothing but a period of attending to trivial occasions or listening to orders that enforced your presence far from significant discourses. The thought itself makes you feel strange. Did life really succumb into such dullness? If so, and life has truly met the worst then was that why a young child like her had become intertwined with a growing war?

Few minutes after, when neither you or Kamala was at the start of another childlike act, the young girl made a sound alike a hum.

“I like your scarf,” Kamala pointed out, her head nodding towards the fabric that was tired firmly around your wrist. “It’s pretty…like you,” she added faintly as a shy smile appeared on her face.

The mention of said scarf; an iridescence like maroon fabric which surface is scattered with a phrasing that looked faded, and the seams of the fabric was woven with embroidery of flowers in shade of gold and silver. It was one of the many fabrics made in your home planet, though, this article of clothing carried a significant meaning.

It's special, you would explain as a conclusion.

You placed the coffee in your possession by the window before untying the scarf around your wrist. Taking gentle steps forward, a tender smile curls at your lips as you glance at the fabric in your hand then meeting Kamala’s curious gaze. “Here, you can have it,” you said, and waited for the young girl to extend her hand.

A soft gasp was heard when the scarf was entirely in her touch. The sudden glow that resurfaced wasn’t unusual as you smiled at the sight. It was always a special fabric, and you believed that—Kamala is even more special.

“It’s glowing! Oh my…” she exclaimed, excitement seemingly losing an understand of what she was saying as you chuckled at her reaction. “Really?” she asked, after settling with a wide grin on her face. “Thank you!” she rushed to warp her arms around you as returned the show of affection.

“It’s a special scarf,” you spoke fondly of it. “Promised to guide in time of trouble…” you briefly explained, and witness the young girl inspecting the scarf intriguingly then her eyes, round and wide, stared into yours with questions that you waved off. “No, it’s not going to help you in every situation. It comes and goes, you’ll feel it when it does,” you wiggled your hands to emphasis it’s magic.

You wouldn’t exactly utter the word of magic. It’s not a trick. It’s just, that, something special and only worthy to those of pure heart.

“What’s that?”

The question was rushed, hand grasping your wrist that was once tied with a scarf. It doesn’t occur to you of Kamala’s sudden interest till the next question dropped from her mouth in utter surprise.

“Is that a glowing tattoo?”

You hastily pulled your hand away, and feign obliviousness as you shrugged. “Don’t know.”

The lie that slips from your tongue feels customary. It was a part of you that you hid well. The very emblem that stirred your chest with such rage, waiting for moments after another to erupt in sheer bloody wrath, and express the very notion that made you feel lost. At that same instant, where those feelings roused in such situation, the reason appeared in lurid steps.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Carol’s voice carried warmly through and her body inched closer, while yours visibly retreated with a livid scowl on your face.

Carol has always been the reason.

And there, she crossed her arms. “Are you serious? You’re still mad about what happened?”

Anger flash in your eyes, widening in sheer frustration and irritation. All those crimson flush that seems obvious to her, and you hoped for the least that she reconsiders her next choice of words. You take that step first, forcing your body into her proximity. A single finger pointed at the centre of her chest as you spoke the next line in blazing fury and in a tone that surely left everyone close stunned.

“No. You don’t get it, Carol. You got the prosperous ending with my brother, the chance to leave and continue your beautiful life in space. You had that, just pick up everything and leave to your lonesome like you always do,” you glance around her space ship to emphasise her isolation. “But I didn’t. I faced the backlash for not choosing the right person, for not— you promised that it will always be me and you.”

The breath released after your admission, it pulled at your chest and settled a heavy there. It doesn’t improve when your eyes started into hers, those spheres that you once compared to the sun.

Carol—she was the person you fell so hopelessly for—and she felt that same too, at those hours spend conversing of everything to nothing. You were sure of it. Those eyes of light brown held a heavenly like adoration for you. The mundane act of life, where her hands always find yours or the crimson flush on her cheeks when your hand rest firmly on her thigh. Carol always held a look in her eyes that others would express of how you perceive said person who painted the starts specifically for you, only someone loves you truly would go beyond to achieve that.

She speaks of it too, the love that she holds for purely for you. It was never doubt that she would have seize every colour in the universe for you. The promise that sealed her lips over yours at the first night you presumed her as another space adventurer. She wasn’t, that she swore upon.

It was love. You were confident of it.

Why must she had done everything against it?

You haven’t found the answers. Carol had left you abandoned while you still saw her face everywhere you turn and your brother’s satisfied smile at the mention of his wife.

It wasn’t fair to you—to your aching heart that stayed, still waiting for the glow of the night to appear and to see her smile. You waited for Carol every night till your mind settled with an end.

She could never settle herself for something permanent.

“You have always been so good at leaving, Carol Danvers,” you uttered with finality, and immediately walked away from her.

Pretence slips instantly. You ignored the look of disappointment on Monica’s face or the sounds of shock from Kamala at the revelation. Life was always like this; pretend, speak of every hurt, and pretend again.

Carol acknowledged the mistakes she made from the first that she remembers to the expense of the last. It takes saving the world with such reckless actions before and after, and the most horrible parts of it for her to finally understand. It was the same route that leads for another mistake.

Her heart ached with knowing that neither could compare to the shame that bathe her at leaving you in such state, and the absolute betrayal of accepting the marriage proposed by your brother. It was a documented act to solve a conflict. Merely an act, a performance for the politics that blurred heavily between social construct of Aladna and the heir of the throne.

“She’s very angry with you,” Kamal mumbled nonchalantly which ultimately directed Carol’s attention to her. “But she’s very pretty…” she trailed, momentarily getting distracted by the transparent screen which possessed classified information. “Actually, I think every beautiful woman…hates you,” and with that, she gasped dramatically at the realisation.

Carol argued with the brewing thoughts in the younger girl’s mind. “That’s not— stop, not every woman hates me.”

“Okay,” Kamila answered sarcastically. The utter shock of seeing her idol had fade into confidence if she was speaking like this without a worry, and it kind of made Carol wish back for the early stages of meeting Kamala.

A tired sigh emits from her throat, her hand brushed the blonde strains that fell to her forehead. “Kamala, she doesn’t hate me.”

Kamala scoffed at the statement. Carol’s eyebrows furrowed, and she titled her head, a look that made the younger girl raise her hand in surrender. It was followed by soft mumbles of apologies.

“She’s not happy with me right now, and I understand her,” Carol claimed, confidence wavering at each word after the tense and one-sided conversation with you. “Anyway, why do you even think that?” she questioned, before pushing the younger girl’s hand from messing with the buttons close by, and a cheeky smile soon resurfaced on her face.

“Because she gave me her scarf, she helped before and after the fight, she’s really nice…then you appeared and suddenly, I feel like a child of divorce…” Kamala expressed with a pout.

Carol’s mouth parted in shock, open and closing as though she was trying to comprehend the way to breath or find a suitable way to response. Ultimately at her speechlessness, Carol huffed and turned around, swiftly leaving the young girl giggling in her dismissal of the subject.

How could Kamala have assumed that, as if, the relationship shared between two was obvious to everyone. Carol knew you enough and that served as the only motive as search for you in the space ship.

It hasn’t left her mind since the night she had left. The circulating questions on if your brother was aware of the relationship that brew between you and her. Did the proposal of marriage arise after knowing the truth or was it proposed at the state of unknown?

Then she heard your voice, reaching her ears to where her mind drones the questions and her chest soothe with a warmth from a voice she had missed. You sounded so you, so gentle, so affectionate, and so unliked the voice that spat angrily in her direction.

You were sat by the monitors with Monica. A conversation flowing easily between two people who had never met before this. Carol was careful as she stood behind the wall, enough to stay hidden and still eavesdrop which she knew was a bad thing, but she couldn’t hinder her curiosity.

“Carol talk about you,” was the revelation that shifted Monica’s attention entirely onto you and deserting the classified information she was reading through. “There was so many stories that it felt like I knew you…but you’re obviously not a kid anymore and I don’t think your Aunt Carol had accepted that yet,” you teased at the end, resulting in chuckles from the other women.

“Our relationship feels weird,” Monica admitted, a sort of comfort disclosed in her posture as she shared her thoughts with you. “It’s been years since I last saw her and…” she paused with a tired sigh.

You nodded your head understandingly. “Regardless of what had happened in the past, I know very well that Carol misses you and she loves you so much,” your hand rested comfortingly on Monica’s arm as you continued, “I really do believe that she wants to try and make this better.”

The conversation fades into the background when Carol turned away from it. After all she had done, the absolute heartbreak that was vivid in your eyes, and you still spoke of her so kindly with someone sharing the same angry for her leaving. It wouldn’t make sense if someone else heard this, but Carol knows your compassion goes beyond.

You were rooting for her relationship with Monica to heal. It felt like your anger as fated at her, but never around what she was for everyone else.

Carol wishes and hopes that she could have the chance to fix the mess she created, and to hear your voice speak sweet to her.

The feeling of something horrible occurring—that ache which drew the most horrifying scream from your chest, your throat burns from the sheer strength it took, your hands trembling, your eyes blurry as tears shed—and the aftermath of it.

To witness someone, not just anyone, but the love of your life confined in a battle that doesn’t present an idea of who would survive. To ready your heart for the worse rather than the good, as the later hasn’t transpired for years, and you were always expecting the worse when it was intertwined with you.

Carol was, is intertwined with you.

The reality of a dreadful battle had disregarded the resentment which stirred in your chest at the sheer mention of her. Betrayal of such, wasn’t promised forgiveness. A part of you knew, forgiveness materialised in your heart when you first saw her on the dance floor, despite her close embrace with your brother.

Everything that you felt was dismissed completely at the sight of her, alive and breathing as she stood just steps away from you. Carol frowned, cheeks crimson and skin gleaming of sweat. It takes one move for her mouth to part, and for you to leap into her arms as she held you close. They won, and she was alive.

In the heat of such reunion, you pushed yourself back slight, your soft eyes gazing into hers and like nature pursuit the sun’s shine, your mouth hovers over hers—

And you kissed her.

One kiss after another, mouth pressing into the other as though air was transfer in that way, her touch melting you into a puddle of love for her.

Carol was stunned and hoped the forbidden wake from a dream wouldn’t ruin this moment with you. It doesn’t happen, not when your hands grasped her face or when her hands fell to your waist. You were kissing her so fondly that the smile on her face the only reason you stopped.

“You kissed me,” Carol whispered, her minty breath fans over your mouth, and you used to tease her for her habit of eating mint candies when she was stressed. “You kissed me.”

You hummed. “And you kissed me back.”

However, the sweet reunion of love was interrupting by a cough. Carol shifted her head slight, looking over your shoulder to see Monica stood there with an unamused expression. You tenderly turned around in her embrace, back pressed into hers as Carol rested her head on your shoulder.

It's perfect, she confessed to her heart. The bad was resolved, and you still love her. You love her enough and haven’t left her side since the start of this unavoidable war.

She doesn’t need any other proof of love than the way your hand grasps her wrist and hold her closer. The glimpse of a mark on your wrist proof of it more, a matching emblem of love that glows warmly on her skin and yours.

“So…you forgive her for being problematic?” Monica teased, and instantly raised her hands in feign surrender when Carol glared at her. “Okay, calm down, Aunt Carol. I was just…stating the obvious.”

A groan trembles through your shoulder at Carol’s annoyance. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Where’s Kamala? Go take care of her, please,” Carol plead in the end, and Monica smiled, waving her hands at you as she walked away.

Carol turned your body around, facing you entirely as the smile on her face widens as you were smiling at her too. It’s unreal, she thought, as her fingers trace the curve of your lips and you lean into her touch.

You felt the texture of her skin, the print of her birth and the ones occurred from her life filled with action. She wasn’t a fragment of a memory that made you curse and cry the night away. Just knowing she was there with you, lessen the ache that was so persistent in your heart.

“I’m sorry for messing up,” Carol whispered, her hand grasps your jaw tenderly. “I shouldn’t— I should have never left you. It’s my fault, and I would do everything to fix this, fix us.”

You simply listened or more, admire the little furrow of her brows as she spoke, the line that drew over forehead which appeared more prominent when she was frowning, and the way her eyes visibly softened, it’s not the look of a warrior but of someone blooming with sympathy. Your body seemed to react first as you pressed your mouth firmly over hers, lips completely shutting her from her rambles of apologies.

“I forgive you,” was whispered as another kiss was followed by, “But you have a long way to fix everything,” you pointed, and she chuckled, nodding her head in agreement.

This was entirely the way either of you expected for rekindle of a relationship, but she was there, you were there, and safely together. Life, rough as it always had been, but it would eventually resolve into better thing. You accepted this at once as her eyes gaze into yours, the tender touch of her hand, and the sweet smile on her face.

You kissed again—just for her.

“But you are divorcing my brother or this,” you pushed yourself back, creating a gap between bodies. “Would never work out,” you stated as you removed your hands from hers and patted her chest softly.

The response that came after was the sound of your distant steps, and Carol’s eyes followed your figure retreating to where the rest were surely waiting.

“Wait! Stop!” Carol shouted suddenly, realisation dawning on her after completely losing her state of consciousness from your touch. “We got married on papers to solve a conflict! It’s not real, hey!”

The laughter that echoed through the space ship was shared among those surviving another formidable battle. You were laughing with Monica and Kamala while Carol was trying her hardest to justify her political marriage, and the slight appearance of a smile when she realises that this is her family. Loneliness doesn’t dwell at each corner of this floating ship, but the warmth of friendships, and rekindled relationships.

hi! if you enjoyed this, do consider getting me coffee 💜

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #carol danvers imagine #captain marvel x you #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagine

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atoriid · 3 months

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You find me attractive when I’m jealous?

-oneshot-

summary: You were away for a while…Zhongli is missing you so badly and is marinating in his dark thoughts…

incl.: Is mostly following Zhongli, Zhongli jealous, dark-ish thoughts on Zhongli’s end, longing also on Zhongli’s end, you're implied to be an artist here (potter), Neuvillette’s name is thrown in the mix, Clothes sharing, pet names, reader is implied to be male but could be read as gender neutral

pairing/s: Zhongli x reader, Zhongli x male reader, Zhongli x gn reader

warning/s: talks of tying and locking you up, slight yandere themes

note: took me a day and then some to write this...hoot hoot…part 2?

☆masterlist☆

You were away on a business trip to Fontaine, overseeing the expansion of your business into the region, leaving your significant other back in Liyue. This marked the first extended separation for both of you.

As the days stretched into weeks, Zhongli found himself wrestling with unfamiliar emotions, the absence of your presence gnawing at him like an unrelenting hunger. Each morning became a battle against solitude, with the memory of your loving kisses at the start of the day serving as a constant reminder of your absence.

Lying on your side of the shared bed, mentally preparing himself for yet another day without his love by his side. He buried his nose into your pillow, unable to muster the heart to change the sheets. A lingering hint of your scent still clung to them, offering a faint reminder of you.

Once he deemed his morning ritual complete, Zhongli moved to ready himself for the day ahead. However, when it came to selecting his attire, he found his own wardrobe lacking in appeal. His gaze wandered to your side of the closet, “I’m sure Y/n wouldn’t object…”

Dressing in your crisp white shirt brought solace, as your scent enveloped him. He should’ve done this earlier, your scent lingered on your clothes, not too much but enough to make him be reminded of you just like the pillows.

Zhongli stood by the window, watching as the early rays of sunlight danced across the Liyue skyline. As he gingerly held the cup in his hands, marvelling at the intricate patterns adorning its surface.This particular set had been lovingly crafted and gifted by you to commemorate your fifth anniversary, he found comfort in your delicate craftsmanship, a testament to your talent admired across nations.

The demand for your team’s products surged in Fontaine, preparations for a new store were underway, drawing you to the region. While Zhongli brimmed with pride over your achievements, yet a tinge of melancholy gnaws at him due to the prolonged separation from you, accentuating the bittersweet nature of your success.

His thoughts wandered into a darker place. Image of you in Fontaine, surrounded by strangers and perhaps, other admirers. The mere thought twisted his stomach into knots, igniting a fire of jealousy deep within.

Zhongli’s eyes roamed, unable to ignore the lingering traces of your presence-subtle reminders of the life both you shared. The empty space echoed with memories of shared laughter and more…intimate moments, now replaced by a haunting silence that seemed to mock his solitude. His nails elongated into claws, digging into the table as frustration and longing intertwined within him.

In the depths of his heart, Zhongli acknowledged that his jealousy was irrational, stemming from fear and insecurity rather than any tangible evidence of wrongdoing. Despite his efforts, he couldn’t silence the voice of doubt that whispered poison into his ear, clouding his thoughts and judgements.

And so, the days turned into weeks and the distance between you grew daunting, Zhongli found himself trapped in a prison of his own making, his heart consumed by the flames of jealousy that threatened to consume him whole.

However, amidst the growing anticipation of your return, Zhongli’s heart leapt at the sound of your voice echoing through the halls of your shared home. “Zhongli~, I’m home,” you called out, your presence immediately illuminating the space. He perked up, turning to behold you standing in the doorway, your smile as radiant as ever, almost banishing all negative thoughts in his head. Setting down the bags you were holding, you stretched out your arms, offering a warm embrace.

Zhongli did not hesitate to leap into your arms. Hand resting on your shoulder, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. He took a hearty inhale of your scent fully expecting to bask in you for a bit. However, amidst the warmth of your embrace he caught a lingering scent of an unfamiliar dragon.

He pulled away your hands still wrapped around his body. “Who were you with?” His voice carried a low growl.

“Ah, it's quite a story actually…the Chief Justice of Fontaine, sir Neuvillette saw me off.” You did not question why he was asking, too focused on holding him as close as possible at the moment.

Zhongli’s gaze intensified as he caught another whiff of this Neuvillette person. His hands curled in anger, nails digging into your back.

“You’re lying,” His voice still low and dangerous, his eyes fixed on you.

“Hm? No?” you countered, meeting his gaze steadily. “Sir Neuvillette merely bid me farewell on my way out.”

Zhongli leaned closer, his breath heavy against your skin, his eyes a blaze with jealousy, his disapproval of the Chief Justice becoming increasingly apparent.

“Was it a quick farewell?” He inquired, his voice laden with tension.

“It was brief and cordial,” you said in a steady tone, mind connecting the pieces together. He’s clearly jealous. You pulled away, your smirk betraying your amusement as you caressed his cheek gently.

The touch caused Zhongli’s breath to hitch, his body tensing momentarily. The scent of another man lingered on your clothes, fueling his suspicions despite your reassurance.

“Jealousy looks good on you my love,” you chuckled. Your playful words only served to deepen the ache of his burning jealousy, leaving him torn between desire and doubt.

His grip loosens and instead of anger an annoyed expression etched on his face. “You find me attractive when I’m jealous?” His jaw remained clenching, brows furrowed.

Leaning in, you whispered into his ear, “Absolutely divine, my love,” a playful tease dancing on your lips.

Zhongli questioned himself: Was his jealousy warranted? As he observed your nonchalant demeanour, every sign seemed to point to your truthfulness. Yet, a darker thought crossed his mind-what if he simply took you, tied you up, and never allowed you to leave the house again? All that you offered to the world would then be solely his…

It wasn’t such a terrible thought…He is a deity, he possessed the power to do it, and no one could stop him. Yet, he realised that such an act would inevitably alter the way his lover would look at him. And that, he couldn’t bear the thought of it.

“Love? What are you thinking?” Oh right Zhongli was still wrapped in your arms.

“I’m thinking of tying you up.” To his bafflement you burst out laughing.

“Zhongli, my love, you always have the most dramatic ideas.” You look surely amused but Zhongli is surely debating whether he should go through with it or not.

You both dropped the subject but Zhongli kept this thought in the back of his head just in case…

word count: 1,120

#zhongli x reader #zhongli x male reader #zhongli x gn reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfics #zhongli genshin impact #fanfiction #slight yandere

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xerotiny99 · 17 days

Text

Win Me a Bear // Our Precious #4

Win Me A Bear (Our Precious series 4)

M.list ┃ Previous ┃ Next

Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader ft. Woosan making out.

Warnings: smut, switch!jongho, sub!reader, unprotected sex, rough sex, a little bit of manhandling, bit of anal fingering, subtle dirty talk and degradation, choking and bruising, use of sex toys (vibrator).

Note: if you're uncomfortable with any aspect of this chapter, topics, and the warnings, then please do not proceed. Not proofread.

Gist: after a week into moving in with your new flatmates, you and Jongho feel a lot closer to each other than before. With that closeness, your sexual tension becomes thick and unbearable. So, when Jongho suggested he'd "take you out" to the university fest, you didn't know he had other intentions to it. Not to forget, he even gave his all to win you a bear at a random game stall.

Word Count: 15,912

The mug of coffee in your hand proffers you a little bit of warmth while Mingi's cold brown eyes were piercing through yours. Another day, another stone-hearted glare from him, another attempt at appeasing your mind. It's no surprise, but the grounds have already been established that you two are eternally bound in a hellfire. Arguments are to strike on the daily basis, and you were prepared for those consequent feelings to surface somehow. On the contrary, you no longer had to worry about his unreasonable resentment towards you. It was clear as a day to you when he firmly said or called others to be addicted to your 'cunt'.

You momentarily cringe at yourself recalling his said words, not that you could resist yourself from reeling back into that night. Things went well that night, you had stayed over for dinner with them and ironically, Yunho joked about how he had the 'dessert' first and then the dinner. Of course, you were his dessert, metaphorically speaking. Conversations carried on were all too basic until Wooyoung asked you for your sexual preferences, the nitty gritty details about your personality in bed. It didn't take long for things to get awkward all around the table, So Seonghwa shooed everyone away to their rooms and asked for your help in doing the dishes with him. Now, you could be biased, but the conversation you had with him was way better and liberating than others. You could tell you were hella attracted to him, and not just for his appearance, but also for his personality and the way he speaks.

Which would explain why you were in the kitchen with him currently; you and Mingi's little battle of standing true through 'intense' eye contact had been deemed worthless by Seonghwa.

He clears his throat, and announces, "quit it you two!"

Mingi clicks his tongue and looks away, "move, you're in my way."

He clenched his jaw, spitting his words with an aggressive tone which you didn't find it quite right. You pressed your lips together and opened your mouth to retort, however Seonghwa having predicated the argument bubbling amid you two, soon scoffs out, "be more polite to her, Mingi. It costs you nothing."

Your attention trails towards Seonghwa, who apparently was trying to flip a pancake in the pan. His back faced Mingi, but he didn't fall short on conveying his authority. Leaning against the kitchen counter, at a distance from Seonghwa, you confusedly look at Mingi and he offers you a very dramatic eye roll and a sigh.

"I need to get my bowl for cereal," he explains further, shaking his head and then turning on his heels, "you know what? Never mind, I'll skip on breakfast today."

Your brows scrunch together, before you could say anything, Seonghwa beats you to it, "have your breakfast, Mingi. You're not going anywhere on an empty stomach."

"Ugh," he groans, "you're always breathing down my neck."

He turns back around, and you move from the counter; watching him drag the drawer out and take a red coloured bowl, you muse for a little and then take a deep breath. Mingi was...he was...God you had no words to describe him, or his appearance. He was tall, intriguing, he was buff, hot, and he had the most kissable lips you had ever seen on a guy. You were thirsting over him, pining to caress his lips with yours for at least a second to know what they tasted like. Probably bitter, your subconscious replied. Mingi fiddles his fingers across the oversized graphic shirt he had worn, an action which causes for the material to strain around his chest and expose off his pointy nipples. His pecks looked delicious, you were drooling mentally over them and him...

You need to get a grip!

"Angel, would you mind sitting on the dining table?" Seonghwa asks, stacking the baked pancake over a plate which already had some. "I'll bring your plate right away."

He smiles at you, waiting for you to take an initiative, or maybe, he was waiting for Mingi to leave. Without saying, Mingi does leave, paddling his feet away to the dining table where two boxes of cereal were sitting atop along with a carton of milk. Morning haze sunshine breaks through the balcony doors, flooding the living and the dining space with golden rays of heat; you were greeted by the sound of birds chirping when you had awoken, alongside Seonghwa's groggy voice asking you for coffee. When you woke up, way early than you could ever have, you found yourself sitting idle on the dining table and watched the sunrise percolate the dawning night sky. A beautiful blend of purple and orange had taken over, intriguing your senses and proffering deep thoughts to your mind, as Seonghwa had also accompanied you.

"I'm good here," you smile back at him, wide and bright, letting your eyes linger over him for a minute longer than they should have. "I like spending time with you."

You shrug, looking down at your mug and he lets out a chuckle, rolling his loosened sleeves further up his forearm, before pouring a ladle of batter into the pan. The sounds of sizzle reverberate, easing out the awkward silence between you two.

"Me too," he says, cracking into a grin, "you're fun to have around. And your elaborate imagination makes it even better."

"Unfortunately, some don't like my presence here," you mutter under your breath, Mingi's ear perk at your sound but his mouth doesn't yap as it usually would. "Well, their loss."

Seonghwa lets out a soft titter, "it sure is."

You again let your eyes rummage over Seonghwa's figure a little longer; he towered over the counter, wearing a burnt orange shirt with its sleeves rolled up till his elbows and paired it with black trousers, and had a navy-blue apron covering it all. He liked cooking. It seemed like it; not from the way he was flipping the pancake or preparing dinner, but by the apron he tied around his waist—it had his name embroidered on it in a pretty shade of pastel blue and green.

"There you go," he mumbles, stacking the freshly made pancake on top of already made ones on a plate and hands it to you.

"Let me finish my coffee first," you remark, pouting.

He rolls his eyes playfully at you and strides towards Mingi who was sitting peacefully and enjoying his cereal while scrolling through his phone. Placing the plate in front of him, Seonghwa flashes him a bold smile and pats his back twice before returning next to you. The stove is shut off, and he takes a breath of relief.

"How did you sleep last night?"

Seonghwa initiates and you gulp the sip of coffee in a haste to answer, "slept well. Actually, Jongho and I were talking about our classes till late night yesterday. You know, basic things."

"Really?" he instigates, "just about classes?"

"Yes, what else?" you state as a matter of factly, and shake your head. "I agree there has been some tension between us for the past few days, but I swear, it's nothing I can't handle."

"The tension between you two is so thick you could practically cut it with a knife," he adds, "you two need to fuck it out."

"Fuck what out now?" Yunho chimes in, his footsteps ascending into the kitchen.

"Her and Jongho's sexual tension..." Seonghwa answers him, and you both earn nothing as a reaction from him.

Yunho's sleepy eyes caress your face, and then Seonghwa's, his bed hair looks cute on him and for a fact, his flushed face was giving your head some ideas you didn't want to have. The squishy cheeks you had started adoring so much were practically cherry red, cute. Yunho walks straight over to the refrigerator and pulls it open to grab a chilled bottle of water. Unscrewing the cap in no time, he gulps the entire bottle down. You're staring at him, biting your lip, controlling your arousal to make a splash in your panties—basically, you were helpless since he was riling you up by just drinking water. And why wouldn't you be, staring at his sharp jawline and the way his adam's apple quivered with every gulp of water he took, gave you an ecstatic rush of thrill.

A few drops of water trickle down his chin and neck, eventually soaking into the white shirt he had worn; pulling the bottle away from his lips, he crushes it in one hand and flings it into the trash can just situated at a feet's distance from the refrigerator.

He heaves out a sigh, "that felt good."

You swallow thickly before raising your mug up to hide your flustered cheeks.

"Did you sleep well, Angel?" Yunho asks you, and you nod, not caring to bring the mug away or anything.

His brows stitch closer to each other on his forehead. "Okaaaaaayy." He drags his word as if he had another question in the waiting. "Are you going to attend the university fest today? I suppose it's the last day of it..."

You nod again.

Seonghwa scoffs, "Jongho asked her to company him tonight, right? Well, I believe that could be a perfect opportunity to fuck it out."

You nod. Yet again. But this time you were bewildered to learn Yunho's reaction; his face falls, lips turning to a frown and eyes darkening in mere seconds. He was jealous. And you wanted that to happen. Not because you were pining for his attention, but because he had regarded your relationship to be purely sexual and not romantic. Yunho did not want to be romantically involved with you; he had made that clear the day you moved in. It hurt you in all ways possible because you were, with certainty, yearning something more than sexual intimacy from him. God doesn't give with both hands, and he surely missed out when he was constructing your love life.

Regardless, Yunho feigns a frail smile. "Oh, that's nice. Have fun tonight. And use protection."

He turns on his feet and trudges over to Mingi; settling himself down next to him, he places his hand on Mingi's thigh and the two get lost in a conversation. You're staring at him, wondering if there was an elucidation to his behaviour. He has the very right to be jealous, but he has no right to express it when either of you had agreed to keep your relation exclusive to physical intimacy.

Oh, men are confusing!

"Angel?" Seonghwa calls out to you and jerk from your trance, "yeah, I'm here..."

"You knew what you were getting yourself into, there's no point in moping," he continues.

"I'm not moping!" you defend yourself, "it's the way he acts—the week before me moving in, he was different. He'd come unannounced to my dorms; we would not fuck or do anything intimate actually but at least he'd show me some sort of affection. We'd talk a lot, we'd cuddle..." You were rambling, you knew it, but you continue either way, "ever since I moved in here, somehow the other guys' influence drives him away from me, most of the times. I am not complaining, but he can do better than get jealous of others and not acknowledge my existence at all."

"Angel," Seonghwa enunciates your name in a 'butterfly in your belly' manner, "we're all different from each other. You know it for yourself, right. Give him some time. He'll bend eventually."

"I don't want him to bend," you whine a little, "I don't know what I want from him."

Seonghwa chuckles, finding your silliness admirable. "That's why we don't do girlfriends. They're complicated."

"I'm taking offence in what you've just said, thank you very much," you poke your tongue out at him.

"What I'm trying to say is," he drawls on his words, "we're all incapable of understanding women, albeit some of us having older sisters—we haven't yet adapted to their clinging and constant need for attention."

As he shrugs, a nerve in your head nicks and you're forced to glare at him. "Sorry, but don't ever have a girlfriend, Seonghwa."

"I'm trying not to," he pouts, "but it's been hard ever since you moved in."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothin—" an alert on his phone buzzes too loud, silencing him with a frown on his lips.

Scooping his phone out of his pocket, his brows scrunch together in concern as reads whatever was it was on the screen.

"Alright, I got called in early at work," he murmurs, stuffing his phone back in and untying his apron; he hangs his apron over your shoulder and hands spatula to you, remarking, "I'm leaving this job to you. Make delicious breakfast for everyone, Angel!"

With that he walks past you and disappears down the hallway on your left. You're dazed, shocked, wondering what the hell happened in the blink of an eye because you quite obviously were staring at Mingi and Yunho in the state of bemuse. Not to mention, you did appear like an idiot to them, with the apron on your shoulder and both your hands occupied with your coffee mug and the spatula. Yunho clears his throat and Mingi stifles a chuckle, while you're forced to roll your eyes at them and Mingi's immaturity.

"I can't cook!" you squeal, groaning softly.

"I'll help you." Jongho's voice rings in your ear, getting louder with his ascending footsteps.

While he stifles a yawn by pressing his lips together, his eyes crinkle by the corners and he makes his presence right in front of you. He grabs the apron from your shoulder without hesitation and walks over to the counter with the stove top. The remaining oil from the last time, sizzles in the pan when he turns the stove on. You watch him tie the apron around his waist in a beat and roll the sleeves of his grey sweatshirt till his elbows. Gradually and carefully, he pours a ladle full of batter onto the pan and forms a perfect circle. You're drinking your coffee at a slow pace, perusing, observing, admiring. The sexual tension which had been filled up to the brim of your stomach was now spilling out, like an overflowing sink.

"Jongho, prepare a plate for me while you're at it," Yunho calls out shortly before continuing the conversation between him and Mingi. They spoke in tongues, weird mumbles which you couldn't discern quite well.

You were certainly feeling some type of way, though all you could do was swallow the bitterness with the gulp of coffee and drag your feet to Jongho. Standing next to him, after you had put your mug in the sink, you offer him help. He refuses. And you whine.

"Oh, come on. Seonghwa put the responsibility on me."

"Yeah, he did. But you can't cook." Jongho states, "as a matter of fact, you said so yourself."

"Agreed, but I can at least try," you retort, reaching for the ladle in the bowl of batter. "If I don't push myself to learn in these circumstances, then when will I?"

Jongho lets out a hefty breath, "nope. You can learn some other time, Angel. For now, if Yunho doesn't get his breakfast, he'll castrate me."

You narrow your eyes at him, judging him. "What, he will—he's not going to castrate you! That's...oh come on, he won't castrate you."

"He will and I know it," he offers you a knowing smile before putting the ladle back in the bowl of batter and picking up the flat spatula. "He might seem like a sweet-innocent-puppy type but in reality, he's not."

You watch him flip the pancake at the end of his words—with your mouth parted slightly, you glance towards Yunho and Mingi in the dining space, both grinning ear to ear, taking to each other. The contrast of Jongho's words puts you in a position where you're left to mull over his actual personality. No matter what angle you looked at him from, Jongho's speculations were baseless in your opinion. How can a guy with a golden retriever energy turn into an agitated chihuahua for that matter?

"Are you sure, Jongs?" you muse, biting your lip. You tear your gaze off of him and focus on the said man—Jongho had a peculiar stare fixed on you, probably because of the new nickname you had allotted to him.

"You know who came up with my nickname, baby bear?" he questions and answers it himself, "he did. And you know how he did? It was in spite. Apparently, I pissed him off when I touched his gaming setup or something. So, I don't play with that guy anymore. Figuratively."

"Geez, relax. I understand," you roll your eyes, "so, when he says he has a side to him, which I probably won't like, he means it?"

"Only if you have a death wish then provoke him. Be my guest. See where that leads you." Jongho shakes his head.

While talking to you, he's gotten at least three pancakes stacked on a fresh new plate; whistling to himself, he trudges over to the dining table and places the plate in front of Yunho. Meanwhile, you're still caught in the trance of mediating the conversation you just had with Jongho. Oh, you'd love to provoke Yunho. A lot. In fact, your mind had already started thinking of ideas and trickeries to get him irked.

"Angel to earth?" a light voice wakes you up and you find yourself staring at a wide eyed Seonghwa.

"Hey, Hwa," you mumble noting the closeness between you and his hands holding your shoulders.

He lets out a vague chuckle, "lost you there for a moment." he takes a short pause before kissing your cheek, "just came by to say I'm leaving. So, I'll catch up with you tonight. I hope you two would've fucked by then."

"Seonghwa!" you whine out loud, brows creasing, lips parting, and cheeks heating up. From the corner of your eye, Jongho is strolling back into the kitchen, lips moving to some incoherent mumbles. "He's coming, shoo! Off you go. You're embarrassing me."

"I mean it, Angel," he whispers, "out of others, he's been yearning to spend more time with you—since the time you two have known each other."

"What are you two on about?" Jongho casts you a confused glare, standing a feet apart from you two.

"Nothing," Seonghwa utters in urgency, "see you tonight, Angel. Bye." He pecks your lips and shuffles out of the kitchen.

Once the door closes shut with a thump, you mentally let out a groan and turn around on your feet, wanting to hide your red cheeks from Jongho. Seonghwa's intentions had bothered you a lot, hell even looking at Jongho put images in your head—the kind you don't want anyone to see. Early morning you had been aroused to your own imagination; picturing yourself being trapped under him, while his cock pounded into you and you squirmed wrapping your legs around his waist. Though what exhilarated you most about him was the fact that you'd get to watch him bare.

"You two are a little too close, aren't you?"

You scoff, "it's because we've been talking a lot as compared to others."

"We used to know each other even before you knew any of them," Jongho pouts.

"Aww, are you feeling left out, baby bear?" you lean over to ruffle his hair.

Jongho lets out a soft growl before taking a step close to you, and closer and closer—till you're pressed up against the kitchen counter. Your back aches to the protruding marble countertop, but when you're trapped by his body, you couldn't be any less concerned about it. Jongho's arms are on either side of you, clutching the counter tight enough to not let you escape. His eyes are trained on you, hungry, a little maniacal and so fucking possessive. Lips turning to a scowl, he tilts his face closer to you, his breath ghosting your skin and riling you up even more. You take a deep breath, involuntarily resting your hands on his forearm—ready to push him off of you any moment, but you hold back. Because the dark in his eyes had you paralysed.

"Yeah, I'm feeling left out," he grunts, pushing his body into yours; how obstructing your clothes were, it angered you. "I feel like you're not interested in me."

You shake your head, gulping, "I am. I really am..."

You're rendered breathless when he buries his head in the crook of your neck. Littering kisses and soft nicks of his teeth on your skin, you can surely tell he was loving the way you shuddered under him. Even more so when his body is all pressed up against yours, pushing you further down on the counter. His arms wound themselves around your waist, and you're urged to hop on the counter. Sitting up, propped against his body like a puppet, you nudge your head to a side to give him better access to leave striking bruises on your neck.

The warmth of his mouth was driving you insane. Your pleasure knew no bounds when you wrap your legs around his waist—the flimsy oversized tee you wore rides up your thighs, exposing your boy-shorts and the little wet patch near your cunt. You were glad he couldn't take a note of it, not exactly when he aligns his crotch perfectly over yours and starts grinding.

"Oh dear lord," a moan hitched in your throat, feeling his boner press tightly against your cunt.

He bucks his hips at a gradual pace, stretching out yours and his arousal in waves as his cock rubbed up and down your slit. Retracing his lips from your neck to your jawline, he draws a shallow breath in and pecks your lips softly. You're left muddled when he takes a step back, loosening his grip on your waist, and letting his warmth dissipate from you. It was torturous. The work of devil was to take you high and leave you dry, aching to have a taste of something only he has. Disappointed by his feat, you mewl under your breath and stare at him with your half-lidded eyes.

He has a smirk on his face, "I'm saving you for the end of the night."

"That's not fair," you whine, capturing the attention of the two sole spectators sitting at a distance from you. "You can't just..."

"Yes, yes I can, Angel." Jongho's smirk widens.

"Keep it hygienic in the kitchen, you freaks," Yunho grumbles out loud, jerking you out of your daze and making you scoff. He adds, "we cook food in there. I better not get any bodily fluids in my mouth."

"Says the one who let me cum on his face," you scoff and roll your eyes, hopping off the counter. It was all a disquisition of his jealousy and nothing more. "Don't be such a hypocrite, Yun. I know you'd rather watch me get railed on the counter."

"Touché," he licks his lips and glances at Jongho, "I'd rather participate than watch."

Mingi creates a retching sound with his throat and groans, "gross! Why can't we have normal conversations in the morning which don't have to revolve around performing orgies in the kitchen?"

"Because nothing about us is normal?" Jongho instigates, "well whatever the fuck it is, I'm outta here." With that he leaves you stranded in front of two pairs of judgy eyes.

"I'm going to take my leave too."

You nod awkwardly, having not moved on from what Yunho had said. It did occur to you that you had wasted a lot of time in the kitchen, when in actuality, you could've gotten showered, dressed, and headed off to your early lectures. It's not too late yet. So, you drag your feet out of the kitchen and promenade down the hallway on left; it led you to the staircase leading up to where your room was. The dimly lit hallway on the second floor, houses four rooms, two on either side. Your room was on the extreme right, beside Yeosang's room and right opposite to your room was Mingi's and Jongho's shared room.

The moment you've slammed your room door, you slump against it and expel a lung-shattering breath. Was this how it's going to be now? The said proposal was to become their fucktoy because their kinks were unconventional for normal women—but it did not state you'd be their prey twenty four by seven, and either of them could lurch at you and have you in any way they please. You will have to talk about it with Hongjoong. You really have to.

You get on your feet and let your eyes meander around your room for a second longer before deciding to take a shower and leave for your classes. Your room wasn't much, a little spacious with an adjoining bathroom but that was all there to it. Though, taking the other rooms in consideration, yours was a little better—however, Yeosang's was a masterpiece. After leaving the dorms and due to your financial situation, you couldn't afford a bed—all you had was Wooyoung's old futon. And you had to sanitise it inside out. Either way, you were thankful for the futon and the extra cabinets around, plus a full sized closet which housed all your clothes. The it's and bits you brought from your dorm room were your mirror, your clothes and your shoes. Yes, the gazillion pair of shoes and boots you owned. You added a little whimsical vibe to the room by hanging a pastel green dreamcatcher by the window which opened to the backside of the loft, giving you the view of an elm tree, and some rose bushes planted by Seonghwa himself.

In no time, you get showered and dressed; you were flaunting your outfit in your body sized mirror propped against the closet, right in front of your futon. Going causal, you wore a pastel pink sundress, which was long enough to cover up till your knees and paired it with a black cardigan. You packed your hair in a high ponytail and teased a few strands of your hair to let them frame your face. Spraying some perfume on yourself, and adorning appropriate accessories, you grab your tote bag and head out.

The rest of your day is devoted to your lectures and experimental lab work; you Jongho and had intercepting classes together, but they were few considering you both had different subject groups. At the end of the day, you were back at the loft and the moment you enter inside, you're greeted with Wooyoung and San. More specifically, Wooyoung was chasing San. You were least bothered witnessing the roommates run after each other in their matching sweatshirts and boxer briefs. Yeah, even boxer briefs. The main concern should be they were wearing only boxer briefs on their lower body.

The two are engrossed in furling curse words at each other, something you didn't want to hear, or waste a fraction of your mind understanding. Howsoever, they halt their movements and smile at you, both at the same time; you're casting your confused gaze on them, sitting on the couch, while they're a few feet from the coffee table.

"Hey Angel!" they sing in unison, and you pout, "hey, guys. Uh...what is happening?"

"Oh, this?" Wooyoung oscillates his forefinger between the two of them. "Just what we do. San ate what was clearly marked as mine—"

"—there was no note! And the refrigerator is everyone's property!" San interrupts him.

"Uh, there was a note, ya jerk." Wooyoung snarls, "I specifically put a note because I know you would eat it!"

"But hey, what's yours is mine too, right?" San teases, "to be fair, last night's leftovers were a little stale."

"Because you weren't supposed to eat them!" Wooyoung seethed through his gritted teeth, ready to spring into a sprint but San holds his hands up in defence.

"Wha—why? Was it one of your experiments, again?" the latter deadpans, "Wooyoung, I swear to god, I'll kill you!"

You're amused to witness how the scene unfolds, this time San was chasing Wooyoung around, with his hand fisted and raised. Two of them circle the dining table, and come back in the living room; Wooyoung eventually comes to sit next to you and San stands by his feet, arms folded over his chest which rose and fell.

"Why are you so..." you're about to complete your words when San glares at you. "He's a culinary student, he creates—innovates! But sometimes they turn out to taste like shit. When he knows he's fucked, he slides it in the refrigerator and waits for any one of us to taste it. And we do, because of course it's too tempting not to. And then, we're the victims of his escapades!"

Oh boy. He was fuming. He was rambling.

"I don't understand what you're complaining about when you licked the plates clean!" Wooyoung retaliates in a whine, "and I used blue cheese, how the fuck did you think it tasted stale?"

"Oh god, leave it," San pouts and slumps himself next to him, both of them eventually and forcefully lean on you. "Hey, Angel. How was your day?"

You clear your throat to answer San's question, "tiring, but I made through it."

"And Jongho?" Wooyoung bounces his brows at you, smiling slyly.

"What about him?"

San clicks his tongue, "did the two of you fuck somewhere, perchance in the library?"

Your cheeks turn red, "seriously, fuck you two."

"You will eventually," they both sing in unison, and you groan, but a loud ring resonates in your space you're coerced to calm down.

Bringing your phone out of your tote bag, which still apparently was stuck to your shoulder, and take a look at the recent messages you had received. It was Jongho, the bear emoji was obvious. You smile to yourself, not caring if the latter two were eying you smugly enough to speculate something and open his texts.

Baby Bear 🐻: Meet me in the parking lot.

You: Why?

Baby Bear 🐻: I think we've got someplace to be. I'm waiting for you. Hurry up.

You: Alright. 😗

Stuffing your phone in your bag, you hastily rush out of the living room to get your bedroom; the first thing you do is, fling your tote bag somewhere on your futon and make a quick sprint to the bathroom. Seemingly as the night strings you along, there was a slight possibility that you two were going to fuck. You couldn't ignore the sexual tension between you two, nor could you turn a cold shoulder over to the vicious salacity you two had trapped in your souls. It was time. It was time to—as Seonghwa would say it—fuck it out. So, the only smart thing to do was, clean yourself and maintain proper hygiene before going out of the apartment.

Satisfied with your choice of lingerie and perfume (of course you wanted to smell good for him), though at some point you wondered if it were really worth it to present yourself on a silver platter for him. Well, to hell with it. You really like Jongho, have been crushing on him ever since you met him in the physics laboratory. It was an accidental meet, but heartwarming in a way. The more you talked to him that day, the more you were attracted to him. However, he was your first real friend in the university and didn't want to jinx it by confessing your feelings which could even be unrequited.

And so, you thought.

Jongho was interested in you as much as you were in him. The unprecedented number of glances he'd spare your way when you'd have your classes together, or when he'd purposely join your class, regardless having a different schedule but same subject group, all of it soon started making sense. As your mind would profoundly accept his feelings to be true, your heart longed for him to make the first move. You didn't quite understand how your level one romantic feelings soon turned into level four sexual attraction. If you could spell out a reason for your unbridled attraction toward him, then it would be the remarkable anticipation of knowing whether he has an undomesticated side or not.

Jongho, on the surface, appeared to be one of those distinguished men who would rather stay vanilla in bed and take every concern about his lover in consideration. Although, after the little morning thrill, you were starting to think there's more to Jongho than he lets you in on. Maybe tonight could be the night you get to witness his ferociousness.

The thought itself drives you wild, forcing the urge to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the strain in your cunt. But you already know you were getting aroused and letting your slick drench your panties. You trap a whimper in your chest and head downstairs, coming face to face with Wooyoung and San who were making out on the couch. How weirdly the dynamic had shifted, or how ironic the situation was—weren't they just running after each other?

You press your lips together, amiably struck by the way their moans were dispersed in the living space, and how gradually louder they were getting. San had crawled into Wooyoung's lap and the latter had his arms around his waist, roaming and what not—two of them lost in their own carnal desires to notice your presence lurking near the coffee table. You let out a squeak and head straight to the front door, leaving the two be for what they were.

The humming buzz in your mind had dissipated long back, but your senseless ponders kept revisiting you. Unseeming, but not quite unforeseen, you were yet to venture into their world of kinks and their unconventional sexual tastes. Their preferences, their choices, their specific interests and disinterests—all of it coerced a beautiful theory of carnality.

You take the elevator all the way down to the lot, holding onto your crossbody bag (courtesy of your mom who had gifted it to you when you were leaving home). The prolonging darkness, yet the slithering lights of the randomly affixed lampposts were a bit too exhilarating. You knew where Jongho had his car parked, he drove a black Mercedes g-wagon, obviously gifted to him by his parents—which sort of put you in the delirium of understanding how wealthy his background was. Regardless, you guide yourself through the line-marked paths to the space where Jongho always parks his car.

He stood leaning against the driver's side, looking through his phone; the blaring light of his screen lit up a part of his face. His lips were fixed in a pout, seemingly in a deep thought about something or mindless panic. Either seemed unlikely because his face beamed when he noticed you walking towards him. The trifling thoughts of his prosperity were long overdue for you as you approached him. You couldn't help but let your lips tweak into a smile.

He was dressed in the same clothes you had seen him in before at the university; a black dress shirt and black trousers, with a checkered long coat covering his fit. As you've observed and had been making some remarks, Jongho did not like to reveal much of his skin and he would always remain covered from his neck down. You wouldn't mind seeing him wear a button down shirt, moreover with its few buttons undone at the top to expose his chest or a nimble of his skin. But, it was his preference and there wasn't much you could do about it.

"Took your own sweet time, didn't you?" he mocks, rushing to the passenger's side to open the door for you. "Never mind."

"I assumed we'd go directly after our final class, but I couldn't find you anywhere in the university." You muse, "where were you?"

"Ah, right. Yes, we did have a plan rather I was on my way to you, when I had a revelation and had to make a quick trip somewhere. So, I thought it's better to pick you up from the apartment," he explains, standing by the door, offering you a silly smile.

You hum along and he closes the door, and strolls to the other side, quickly slipping into the driver's seat. Amidst the darkness, you catch the twinkle in his eyes, and then the subtle nudge of his head implying for you to open the glove compartment.

"I got you something."

You shrug off any inconspicuous intentions he relied and pulled the compartment open. There was a tiny paper bag with a pink bunny printed on it. Upon holding it in your hand, the bag rattled with something inside, a box perhaps.

"What's in it?" you're skeptical, of course.

"Open it." His answer doesn't suffice your bubbling curiosity.

Pouting, you take the tiny little box out of the bag and stare at it a minute longer; a purple box with silver ribbon tied around and put in a bow at the top, it rattled with your hand as you tugged at the perfect bow and unravelled the ribbon around it. Your anticipation had no bounds, and you ached to know what was inside it. To your bewilderment, as you flip the top off, you find a tiny egg-shaped vibrator resting on lavender velvet sheets curled around it. You pinch it up in your hand and narrow your eyes at it first, then at Jongho.

He stifles a chuckle and leans over to fish out a small remote from the box, something you had failed to notice before.

"I have different preferences, Angel." he licks his lips, directing his lust-filled gaze onto you, "which at times involves all these things." He toys with the remote with his thumb, before snatching the vibrator from your hand. "Come on, get here."

He pats his lap twice, an easy indication you chose to follow without any hesitation or concern. Alright, not without an only concern: you'd be in public, possibly all night, would that mean...? You trembled as you crawled over the space where the gear selector was and rested your hands on one of his thighs. As your upper body was propped over his lap, your ass was sticking out in the air.

"You're okay with this, right?" he needs a confirmation from you, and you nod, biting your lip, "I mean, I am, but I didn't know you were into this, Jongho."

"There are lot other things you don't know about me, Ange," he whispers.

In a splinter of a second, he places the vibrator and the remote on the dashboard. Tracing a hand down your back, where his fingertips elicited shivers along your spine, he catches the hem of your dress in between his fingers and pulls it up to your back. Your dress rolls into the small of your back, while his fingers graze your inner thighs. His forefinger and middle finger run along the lines and slot themselves into your slit through your lacy panties, rubbing up and down—you let a mewl slip your lips, closing your eyes to the eerie sensation of his fingers rubbing you down.

Jongho was utterly delighted to hear your frail whimpers, your silly attempts to quiet yourself down while he worked you up. Not only that, he had caught up on the tiny wet patch on your panties.

"You were dripping even before I did anything to you," he instigates, "what were you thinking about? Or was it someone else?"

You shake your head, glancing at him, "it was you. All you." your voice turns breathy the more you speak and delve into the pleasure his fingers were proffering, "I—I was thinking what it'd be like to be under you...or—or on top of you."

"Oh," he mumbles, "you have a wild imagination, Angel."

His pace picks up, the tip of his fingers pressing further down against your slit and your folds; he takes a pause, however, and pushes your panties to the side. Grabbing the vibrator from the dashboard, he contemplates for a minute, while you're prefiguring a burning sensation in your cunt at its insertion. You clench around nothing, yearning to feel something to wrap your walls around; Jongho knows of your eagerness from Yunho and Seonghwa, who had given the others a glimpse of what exactly it was to fuck your tight little cunt, your mouth and your throat.

He wasn't going to give in to your desperation, not until he's played with you or riled you enough. From the slickness of your cunt, and how it coated your folds, he could tell the vibrator would slip just right in, without any impediments.

"Jongho, please..." you mumble under your breath, quite inaudible but his ears perk up to it.

He chortles, "honeybun, a minute please."

You gasp when you feel his other hand slapping your buttcheek lightly; he brings the same hand closer to your cunt, pushing two fingers past your folds and letting them slide inside. Only the tips of his fingers submerged in you at first, and then bit by bit he was knuckles deep, curling them inside to let his nails scratch your walls. His fingers did not reach as deep as Yunho's would, but they were reaching in enough to cause more of your wetness to spill out.

"I wonder why this cunt is still tight after being fucked by him..." Jongho groans, and your walls clench around his fingers even tighter than before.

It was the way he had brought up Yunho in the conversation, in an unseeming way to make you whimper.

"He's gotta have the biggest and the most girthy cock out of us all," he adds, mumbling, "well, Mingi comes in second to him. But—fuck—fuck, you're swallowing my fingers in, hun. Are you that eager?"

You hadn't realised when your walls had tautened around him, but you could feel the rapture of pleasure taking over you when his fingers kept thrusting further in.

Nodding your head, you mutter, "I want you."

"You're not getting me so easy," he titters softly, pulling his fingers out and you whine at the emptiness, "now, take a deep breath for me."

You do as told, taking a deep breath in, while Jongho adorned a admiring smile; he was picturing how divine you'd look squirming and wiggling around as he played with your cunt by using the vibrator. Hell, he even went as far to picture you under him with his cock thrusting in and out of your tight cunt, clenching tightly to milk out his orgasm. Jongho pushes those foreboding thoughts to a side and nudges the tip of the vibrator against your folds. The silicon head of the vibrator slips right in, eventually, it's entirely fit in your tight little hole with small ring sitting outside.

"Make sure it stays in, alright?" Jongho straightens your panties and gives a playful smack to your cunt before grabbing your jaw to forcefully make you face him. "If you don't, I'll punish you. You understand that?"

You nod your head vigorously, reassuring him and watch his lips curl into a sly smile. He licks his lips before leaning in and capturing yours with him. The kiss is slow at first, filled with his muffled mumbles while you're struggling to keep yourself up on his lap. He brings his hands to your waist and pulls you on his lap for you to straddle him properly. The space is confined, yet your legs are wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. You're deepening the kiss, pushing your lips further into his with your tongue caressing his lower one.

He parts his lips in amusement, and you take it as a perfect opportunity to slither your tongue in; both of your tongues are rubbing together, engulfing each other in the long awaiting warmth and desire. His fingers dig in your waist, leaving marks in your flesh, even through the dress you wore. Your body shudders immensely when you hear a click and the vibrator starts buzzing inside you. The vibrations were mellow, yet steady paced and drawling your body into a state of frenzy. You gasp and pull back from the kiss, reading the teasing smirk on Jongho's lips.

"This is just the beginning," he states, "well, we ought to leave now."

You crawl out of his lap and get into the passenger's seat, crossing your legs over to contain the vibrations and your wetness to seep out from your panties. You would definitely not like to ruin the leather seats.

"You're insane," you mumble under your breath, too bothered by the vibrations buzzing in your body and buckle yourself in while he does the same.

"Not quite," he adds, igniting the engine and revving it up, "you haven't witnessed the extremities of my insanity yet."

You suppress a moan and gander at him, eyes teary from the pleasure. He shrugs and drives out of the parking lot. The drive to the university is smooth and somber, Jongho blasted some soft euphoniums and a little bit something from the classical genre. His playlist was surprisingly good, but all you could focus on was the vibrator bustling in you and driving you closer to your edge. Though, you know better than to release your pent up tension in one go. You had to hold it in. Your life depended on it.

Jongho parks the car in the parking lot specifically meant for the fair; he kills the engine and draws his keys out before getting out first and then helping you. Your feet touch the ground and all that's been contained in your panties starts slipping out, trickling down your inner thighs. You didn't think you'd get so wet, never from the vibrator at least. This was torture. In fact, the slow vibrations were starting to feel more painful than pleasurable; you wanted him to speed it up, release you from your misery.

The fair was conducted on the large campus ground, which before was considered barren and dead; the lights, the haze and the peeks of the giant ferris wheel were all too exciting for you. As the two of you begin walking together, side by side, your hands interlaced, Jongho reads your mind. More likely, he reads the troubled lines on your forehead and the way your lips were twisted and trapped between your teeth.

"You're not cumming unless I say so," he states, leaning over to whisper it in your ear. "Hold it in."

You were definitely going to go crazy by the end of the night; more so than before because you had just caught a glimpse of him slipping his hand into the pocket of his pants. He was fiddling with the remote, aching to speed it up. The walk to the entrance of the fair from the parking lot was quite troublesome than you had anticipated. You were constantly met with passing students and others; however, the public was mostly limited to the university students. They had their eyes on you. And the fright of being discernible and perceivable was slowly creeping up your spine.

Jongho doesn't seem fazed by the situation, he drags you further into the crowds, the random stalls of neon and bright lights, and the detrimental chatters of the passersby. Many people occupied in the game stalls hooted and cheered, while some couples had found themselves an empty and dark alleyway to make out and carry out other physical activities. You could sense the scent of sex and sweat in the air, not too surprised because these things were pretty common in your university.

On either side of the gravelled pathway, there were countless stalls and tents of various games and playthings. Some stalls were selling antique and handcrafted items, while some were live artistic corners. The bright and broad fairy lights overhead and randomly situated lamps, were the only light sources for the beguiling night of moonless sky. Not exactly moonless for the moon to hide behind the clouds. Even when surrounded by the buzz of people, you hear a click and the vibrations in your cunt pick up their pace by a notch. You mewl, and gasp at the unprecedented change.

"Fuck, Jongho," you mumble, looking at him with blurry vision.

He muses, "what is it, dear? Do you need anything? Maybe something to drink, water, or anything else?"

His teasing sense of self was far more wretched than the situation you were put in. You swallow thickly and your eyes fall on a stall behind him; win a bear stall. The colourful and cuddly teddy bears lined along the top and some strewn below. Though your main focus was fixed on the pyramidal stacks of cups on a long bench and a play-gun rifle in the attendee's hand.

"What is it?" he mumbles and turns on his heels to trace your gaze to the stall. "Oh, that looks fun. Which one do you want? Come on..."

In a blink, he's dragging you by your hand toward the stall, keeping you close to him as you stand across the counter with the attendee offering you a small smile. There's an underlying confusion about how you were able to keep up with his fast feet, because in a sense your body was shuddering to the immense jolts of vibrations coming from between your legs. Your spine tingled in all odd ways, and as the night air chilled your bones, there was no way you could hold onto your urge to come undone.

"The pink one?" he asks, "or the brown one? Oh, the brown one looks classic and seems more cuddly."

Your lips form a soft pout as you glance up to look at the teddy bears hanging up on sort of clothesline. "You know what, the brown one resembles you."

"Ah, it really does, doesn't it?" he laughs out, fishing out a ten dollar bill. "I'll win it for you."

With a confident wink, he grabs the gun from the attendee and gets in stance. He places the rifle's butt over his shoulder—one of his hands slips under the forestock and the other one gently wraps around the trigger. The toy gun is already loaded with three pellets, each turn giving you three chances to hit and collapse the cups stacked. Jongho squints one of his eyes to get precision and pulls the trigger—he misses his first shot.

"Dang it!" he hisses, glancing over at you and offering you a light shrug of his shoulders. "I'll get the next one."

"I don't doubt that," you smirk, folding your hands over your chest and resisting the very urge to squeeze your legs together.

It was uncontrollable, the knot would soon form in your lower abdomen and strain your gut; this was torture in a cruel way, and Jongho was glad he was getting the worst out of you.

"Alright."

He misses his second shot too, forcing you to press on a chuckle because of course you didn't want to belittle him; either way, he wasn't brought down by your presence. Not dwelling for long on it, he aims again and shoots.

He misses the third time too.

"Again," he sneers at the attendee and flicks a ten-dollar bill at him.

This attempt leaves you and him a little hopeful; he hit two shots out of the three, both aimed at the lower ones. Only one cup stands, and that defeats the purpose of everything. Jongho continues to prolong his attempts, overall spending more than eighty dollars on it. During his last attempt, he gets in stance with his unwavering confidence and aims. This time, he topples down all the cups and gives you a haughty smile; the curve of his lips is satisfying for both of you, because for the time being he played, you were dying with the rough droning of the vibrator.

The attendee hands you the brown teddy bear you had been eying from the beginning; you hold it in your arms, hugging it close to your chest. It was warm, cuddly and cosy, just as you picture Jongho to be. You bury your face in the back of the teddy's head and sniff, it had a whiff of murk and a bit of dust. Jongho observes you closely and keenly, he wonders your purpose behind sniffing it; though, you know you would convince him to cuddle the bear so that it smells just like him, the scent you found weirdly alluring and pleasant. Jongho had a fine scent to him, more refined and sophisticated—a tinge of lavender with woody undertones. A lavish perfume indeed.

"You like it?" he questions you, stuffing both of his hands in his pockets.

"Hmhm, I love it, to be exact." You assure him with a smile, yet you were concerned and predicting whether he was fidgeting with the remote in his pocket or not.

"Would you like to eat something?" he adds, intertwining your hands. "I think I saw a stall selling corn dogs over there."

"Fried food would just cause me bloating," you whisper, unable to contain yourself while walking with him.

The pressure building between your legs was too much to dither any of his words or even your so-called cravings. You weren't exactly hungry, and while you're about to purport your theory of not wanting to eat anything, your eyes catch a glimpse of two men near a lamppost. Jongho's and your pace of stroll wasn't as fast as it'd be compared to being remarkable; you were blending with the crowd perfectly fine for the two others to notice you amidst the waves of it.

Yunho and Mingi, both tall giants were standing under a lamppost; Yunho's lips clasped a cigarette, its tip inflamed red while dusty white smoke levitates in air. You're keen on generalising them, noting how closely they stood to each other—moreover, they were sharing a blunt. You did not take them to be smokers, definitely not. Nonetheless, finding out an oddment about them doesn't make them any different in your eyes.

You catch yourself staring at them, having no ill intentions whatsoever, regardless you couldn't tear your eyes off them. There was something so ministerially ambiguous about them that you wanted to stare at them as long as you could. Jongho had not figured out where your gaze was, rather, he, himself was busy looking around to find some food stalls.

"Are they...?" you mumble, posing an outward question to Jongho.

He turns his head, "what did you say?" his eyes must've fallen over the two men you had been ogling for a while now. "Yunho and Mingi...? Right, they said they'd be here too."

"All by themselves?" you retort, crooning your neck to fixate yourself on Jongho's silhouette.

"Not exactly, I'm not sure about Yunho but Mingi has a girlfriend. So, it's probably both of them," Jongho mutters, staring back at you, "why do you think he isn't allied to our proposition?"

"Well for starters, he despises me. And also he considers me a whore."

Jongho chuckles, "not exactly. Look, his unresolved resentment towards you is his deal, to be fair. I don't have a say on that part. To the contrary of what you've already stipulated, Mingi does have a girlfriend."

He shrugs, "they're on and off a lot, awfully lot. The persistent back and forth is annoying. Trust me, you don't want to be on either side of it. I speak from experience."

"How does his relationship dynamic affect you, or as a matter of fact, any of you?" you raise another question.

"Hmm," he hums for a second, "I'll put it in a much better context. When they're away from each other, Mingi is a mess. When they're together, Mingi is still a mess."

"I shouldn't be pointing a finger at his relationship when mines pretty nonexistent. But, at times, Mingi's outbursts have been a little too personal to handle." He continues, "hence, they both push and pull till they're breaking each other apart."

"I suppose, it paints a picture in my mind with the context you're describing," you shrug, "Though, don't you think they're both toxic for each other?"

"A lot," he adds, "I'm not going to pretend I don't see it; alas, It's not my place to pass a judgment or say anything about them."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't like it," he laces your hands with his and pulls you into a different lane leading down to the humongous ferris wheel.

The strings of fairy lights overhead were endearing for their warmth and light. Although, taking a detour forced you to hold a last and longing glimpse of Yunho and Mingi; both who were waiting, sharing a blunt, dressed in jackets. Mingi had a denim jacket overlayed on his outfit, it leant more toward the causal point with baggy jeans and a fitting graphic tee. Where as Yunho wore a leather jacket, snug around his shoulders and chest and underneath was a red button shirt—with practically most of the buttons ripped open to expose his chest—and black pants. His faded blue hair glimmered under the light of the lamp, while Mingi's hair showed prominent streaks of gold amidst the pitch black. The fumes of the cigarette disappear once Yunho stubs it onto the stalk of the lamppost and flicks on the ground.

"What, are they...?" you halt in your steps, not because of the question you posed but rather because of what you had seen.

Turning a corner hadn't completely denied you of the other two's presence, they were still there in your vision line, both talking in themselves and grinning. You, however, had the worst of your curiosity pique your attention when you saw two women approaching them. A brunette, in her own haste, wrapped her arms around Mingi's neck and pulled him in for a kiss; whereas a red haired and much shorter to Yunho, hugged his chest and pressed a kiss to cheek, all while being on her tippy toes for him.

You could hear the sound of your heart shattering in your chest. Particular moments were blurring against you, but Jongho's voice was much soothing than the reveries you were threading along.

"Pay them little to no mind, Angel, please," he whispers, letting out a sigh then and thumbing a button on the remote in his pocket.

You were benumbed by what you had to witness prior, not noticing how dismally the vibrations had halted in your stead. One of Jongho's arms slides around your waist, while other traces small, easing, and gentle circles on your shoulder.

"I did not expect that," you swallow thickly, glancing at Jongho as your grip on the teddy bear grows tighter. "Well, I'm not even sure what I was expecting from him."

"Ange, it's—you don't have to keep expectations from either of us," Jongho sighs, "agreed, we all proposed an amoral bargain to you, and that's where it's at. It'll always be just that. If you're hopeful for something more with any of them, then you might be wrong. They're not wired that way."

"I can't say it on behalf of the others, and I don't care about them, as long as I get to love you."

"You—Jongho, what are you saying..." you shake your head in disbelief, wanting him to say something to justify himself but he doesn't give you an answer.

Rather, he's dragging you down the gravelled lane and you're trying to keep your steps in line with him; the stalls, the people, the unseeming chatters, zoom past you in a strange way. You're anticipating again, though there's nothing much left to when he brings you to the ferris wheel. You're protesting against it—you were terrified of heights.

"Jongho, I don't do well with heights..."

"You'll be fine, I'm here with you."

Your whines were in vain, because he's already buying tickets for the two of you; standing in the queue, you were still fixated on what you had seen. Was she, his girlfriend? Or someone he was seeking out as a significant other because you were only there for his sexual pleasure? Was he tired of you already? What was his deal?

"Angel?" you flinch when Jongho's warm hand cups your face, "I told you to not think about it."

"I'm trying not to," you lie.

And it shows he doesn't believe you. "I—just come with me."

Not much time passes till you and him are seated in a car, both sitting next to each other. The teddy bear is propped on your lap, holding close to your chest while you squint your eyes tight and rest your head onto its own. You were terrified of heights, and certainly did not like it when the wheel started moving, levitating you higher off the ground. Jongho's hand was intertwined with yours, and his other arm had been snaked around your shoulder to pull your body close to his chest. Your feet trembled, even without seeing how high you had been placed now; Jongho warmth was a constant however, alleviating the alarming thrill of being so high up in the air.

"When I first met you," he begins, causing you to raise your head and look at him. "I was beguiled by your presence, everything about you was just so damn charming and there I was, a basic man with a much basic aesthetic." He pauses for a second, leaning into rest his forehead over yours, "I was eager to be your friend and I know I had to take it slow because anything could scare you off. At least I thought so."

He takes a deep breath, "I've always considered you as the beautiful little butterfly I would chase around when I was a kid. It would never come to me. And the more I chased, the further it flew away. Never in my grasp. Later on I realised, I had to be patient and gentle with it. I had to let it know that I'm not going to harm it."

You couldn't help but smile, knowing how well he had distracted you from looking down, or even thinking about Yunho's ordeal.

"I could never hold the butterfly in the palm of my hand, and I probably didn't want to. You're that butterfly I keep running after and I know it too I can't keep you tied to me," he continues in a mere whisper, "look, it's beyond my control to tell others how they want to treat you. But, know that I'm not going to sit around and watch them manipulate you for their own gain. I'll always be here for you." His breath drawls and he steers his eyes off of you for a mere second, only for a second, and continues, "and if you feel betrayed by Yunho, then tell him, make it known. He likes women who are straightforward. So, give it to him straight. Though, there's no way in hell you're beating yourself up over that dickhead's actions."

"Okay?"

It almost makes you chuckle, his nonchalant way of bringing your spirits up; and not just that, he's sneaky enough to get his hand toying with the remote in his pocket. You take a deep, not knowing of his stealthy little trickery, and gradually brave yourself to look around. The view from the top was absolutely breathtaking, the citylights, the atmosphere, the distant details of your own university—everything was perfectly scenic. You're enjoying the view in itself, till you feel a familiar buzzing resound from between hour legs. Jongho's lips curve to a knowing smirk, delicate however playfully cruel.

"You...!" you squirm and clasp your lips tighter; with your fleet movement the capsule is sent in some motion as well. Leaping sideways, you hold onto Jongho's arm, constraining yourself closer to him.

He isn't surprised, moreover, he's revelling in your bodily shudders and quivers. It's almost impossible for him to control his untamed desire any longer, he needs you and he needs you now. Though, considering you're high in the sky, he probably won't do anything that's too brute or moronic. Instead, he finds you gazing up at him, tears coating your eyes and making them glassy; you nibbled on your lower and dared not to look away from him, for your own sake.

The vibrations were sending you to a place of pleasure, and pain; because of how constant and intense the buzz was, it was painfully obvious that it wasn't enough to make you cum. However, it was adequately diverting you closer to your edge. In a sense, you were on fence, with one side having the comfort of your post-orgasm, and other the torment of overstimulating yourself.

You wind up holding the teddy closer to your chest, eyes fluttering in an immense craving to feel his lips on his. And as if on cue, as if he had read your mind, he dives in. The mere contact at first is similar to a brush of feather, and then all hell breaks loose. He's pushing his lips further into yours, cupping your face with both of his hands to keep you fixed in a place while he deepens the kiss. Pure lust. All his desires were coming true, and mind you not, he had been waiting for this day for a long time.

A rumbling grunt is stuck in his chest and he forces his tongue into your mouth without any warning. The warmth of his tongue engulfs your own in a sloppy and wet mess, his hot breath fanning your cheeks and heating them up even more so—because he had just started to shove his tongue down your throat. You're agonisingly caught in a dilemma, one being so wretched and deep; what were you supposed to focus on, the buzzing in your cunt, the heat of his tongue proclaiming yours, or the wetness seeping out into your panties? Although, the most recent thought would be exempted from the list pleasure and put in a list of worries.

Suffocation stings your lungs and you pull back to take a deep breath in, lips wet, tongue abused by his own, and your heart palpitating in your confined chest. You're fucked, so fucked. All you could think of was how much longer would it take for you to writhe under him, in pleasure.

"Fuck, I need you, Jongho. I need you bad," you mumble, and lurch your head into his; the kiss resumes, heated, hot, passionate and painful with his canines sinking in your bottom lip.

"I don't think I can wait till I get back home," he murmurs against your lips and slides his hands down from your face.

"Then maybe we shouldn't."

Did that wreck his mind. But to put you in more discomfort, you were on a ferris wheel which rotated at a turtle's pace. The wait would have to be longer.

They say, good things come to those who wait. And you two had been waiting for this; the moment the ferris wheel hit the bottom, you were dragged out by Jongho, hand snug in yours. Somehow, you managed to have a hold on the teddy bear and his hand, a little muddled but equally excited to what he has planned. Sprinting down the same lanes and paths, he brings you to the parking lot—impatiently, he pulls you to his car and unlocks it to open the passenger's door.

"Jongho!" you gasp as he pushes you inside and haphazardly tries to strap you in.

"I'm sorry, I can't hold it in anymore, you know it too."

To help him, you do pull the strap over your head and click it in; Jongho rushes to the driver's side, he settles in and doesn't bother putting on his seatbelt. He revs up the engine and presses hard on gas. You're out of the parking lot in a blink of an eye, watching the scenery run you by. Still squirming and sobbing from the burning sensation in your lower abdomen, you bite down harshly on your lip. You were done for. So done for. You didn't care about anything but Jongho. You wanted him to break you in half, just the way he would break his breakfast apples in half. However, that seemed unlikely and quite cringe even to yourself.

The moments are dithered to nothing when you're thrown into the motion of the car stopping; he had hit the brakes all too sudden for you to catch yourself. When the daze subsides to your fully aware conscious, you find yourself amid an abandoned road, covered by trees and nothingness. It wasn't too stupefying to realise this road ran past behind your university, and hardly anyone ever took this route to get anywhere at all. The darkness surrounding both of you is sublime, and the nifty breezes of the night are drifting along the clouds to reveal a crescent moon stuck in the sky.

Without any hint of awareness, Jongho is out of his seat and is rushing to snatch you out as well. His grip on your forearm tightens and leaves behind a bruise as he pulls you into his body; the door closes behind you with a loud bang and he drags you to the back of the car. You stumble with his fast paced steps, slipping on the gravel underneath. But that's not your main concern; you're worried about Jongho's intentions when he pulls the rear cargo door open and pushes you inside. The backseat had been folded over to create more space in the back—he velvety surface under you was comforting and soft on your skin when you lay yourself down, propping your upper body up on your elbows to look at him.

Jongho grits his teeth, tugging the coat off of his shoulders and flings it next to you. "Never thought I'd indulge in this sort of thing, in nature too."

You nod your head vigorously, "yes—yes, I understand, now—please—please get it out of me. I need you."

The night air cuts through your skin, you spread your legs apart to show him the mess you were down there. He was not astonished to find your panties all slick and wet, rather, he had pictured what you'd be like to the inflicted stimulation; and what he had pictured in his mind, made his cock strain in his pants.

"Patience, honeybun," he coos, fishing out the remote from his pocket. He keeps it in his hand, while he rolls the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. "What's the rush? We'll just ruin this beautiful night."

Click!

And your mouth falls open slack to the budding tension between your thighs; he had upped the setting to its highest, and the vibrator was moving impeccably fast inside you. Your body shudders and goes limp for a hot second before you clasp your eyes shut and fist your hands. The burning sensation in the pit of your stomach crawls up your spine and makes you squeal. You're done for, a few more minutes and you'd know how intensely the knot would untie.

"Hmm, quite the response I was hoping for," Jongho mutters under his breath, a teasing smirk curving his lips as he takes a step closer to you. "Your body is so intriguing and beautiful, Ange," he adds, "you are wildly intriguing. And I must say, it's going to be a joyride unravelling you."

You mumble in your broken state of mind, wanting nothing but him to give you the sense of relief you've been craving for. "Jon—Jongho, please, just, can you—will you please just—fuck, you're fucking a jerk."

"Uh-huh, got a foul mouth on you, do you?" he clicks his tongue, ghosting his touch along your arms to cup your face, "well guess what? Some other time, if you curse at me like that, you'll be getting the worst end of me."

"But for now, I'm going to let it slide."

He leans in to capture your lips with his, hungry, devouring with a fervent want for you. It was all too evident in the haste he carried in his actions; his hands were slipping from your face, tracing down to wrap them around your waist. Meanwhile, his tongue had already slithered past your lips, wetting your skin along the way. You don't care for the tongue, or the way his teeth were nibbling down on your lower lip, all you could focus on was the maddening purr of the vibrator stuck deep in your cunt. The way your flesh was sizzling because of the heat and daze of your orgasm reaching you, there was no way you could hold it in any longer.

Though, Jongho had other plans for you. His lips, entangled in yours, gradually trail down your jawline and neck, searing kisses and leaving behind deep suckles to bruise. You gasp, moan, whimper—you were on ninth cloud under his touch and had no clue how to voice your pleasure. Regardless, the whispering moans, and the voiceless groans, were a clear indication to Jongho that he had you where he had wanted you all along. Desperation had no bounds for you, rather, you did not understand what to anticipate anymore.

Too engrossed in alleviating the tension in the pit of your stomach, you growl and wrap your arms around his shoulders. The tighter you held on to him, the more relaxed you felt. Although, that might be an understatement since the vibrator had now started sending painful tremors throughout your body. You throw your head back, and angle it in such a way as for him to get better approach to sucking purple bruises on your skin. He doesn't waste any time in biting and licking your flesh, creating a myriad of hickeys down your neck and throat; you certainly did not expect Jongho to bruise or mark you like this.

He pulls back only a little, for the fraction of the minute to lower the setting on the vibrator. While he rummages his hands back onto you, tugging the hem of your dress up till your waist; his hands roam again, first cupping your tits through the dress and then pulling down on its neckline to tear it off. You gasp, hearing the sound of your dress being torn to shreds. Jongho suppresses a chuckle, he was in awe at how beautiful your chest was, and how full his hands were as they groped your tits.

"One day I'll be fucking these tits," he murmurs, out of breath, pinching your nipples through the cups of your bra. "But today, we ought to ruin your tight little cunt."

"Jongho—yes, please," you mewl in utmost desperation, wrapping your legs around his waist and bucking your hips to feel something of his crotch. "Ruin—ruin me, please. I want you to—I want you to fuck me dumb."

You don't know how you were able to string those words along, but you knew how urgently you wanted to feel full by his cock. The torment of delay in your release was slowly creeping up your spine and going right to your head. You were rendered senseless, and brainless, because the only thing on your mind was his cock which would soon thrust in and out of you.

Jongho is sly with his hands, he winds a hand around your back and unclasps your bra, swiftly letting it fall down; the tattered pieces of your dress flutter against the night air, chilling your skin and spine. But the miserable vibrations were still dragging out your release and the dire need to feel his cock in you. While you're in your head, thinking about him, the warmth of Jongho's hands engulfs your chest. His hands grope and knead your tits, thumbs rolling over your hardened nipples to over-stimulate you. The pleasure in between your legs and on your chest was soon turning into pain, anguish, torture.

"Alright alright," Jongho lets out a small laugh, sensing you heat up and shudder uncontrollably, "I'll grace you with my cock, that's what you want right—to be fucked dumb by me, and my cock?"

You nod your head, not caring about anything else in the world. Jongho couldn't really suppress his amusement and admiration for you; in a haste of his own excitement, he picks you up and settles down in the back himself. You're straddling his laps, eyes squinted tight and tears staining your cheeks. His hands were toying with your taut nipples, pinching them—bruising them a little red.

"You can ride my cock, can't you?" he smugly questions you, hands dragging down to either side of your waist.

To respond to him, you nod your head again and you receive a hot and hard slap to your tits.

"Words."

His grunt makes you snap your eyes open; more tears rush down your cheeks, but you didn't care as long as you were staring into his deep brown eyes. They were dark, intimidating, dominating—you quickly swallow and take a deep breath.

"I will—I want to ride your cock," you somehow stutter, but keep your gaze locked on him.

"Good girl," he praises you, sliding his hands under your dress to pull the panties off.

Rather, he doesn't pull them off at all. He holds at the flimsy and delicate straps of your panties and snaps them in two; the remaining fabric slips out of dress and falls onto the ground. You pout, when the realisation of him fully dressed comes to your mind. In a sudden moment, you fumble your hands to unbutton his shirt. Jongho titters softly before pushing your hands away and then tracing his along your thighs. He pushes the remnant of your dress, which apparently was only clinging on your lower half because of how ruthlessly he had ripped off the top and rubs a forefinger along your slit. He's glad to find your dripping wet, your slick coating his finger in beautiful sheer shade.

He pulls back his hand and lets the other rest on your waist. "Fuck, you really love to be teased, don't you? It makes you wet, right—when we fucking rile you, play with you and..." he pauses to let out a deep chuckle, "I can't fucking believe how wet you are right now, mewling for my cock—such a pretty little thing, my pretty little slut wanting to take my cock in."

His words were...provoking. They were fueling the want even more, and you know you couldn't control yourself any longer.

"Jongho, I'm so close. I'm really—fuck—I'm really fucking close." You are on the verge of crying, your voice breaking till it reaches him.

"Oh, hun. You're not going to cum until I say so," he says, whirring his words with a little satire. "And dare if you do..."

He trails, merely whispering as he quickly unbuckles his belt and then pulls the zipper down; while he's tugging on his pants, you start grinding on his crotch, wanting to feel more of his erection. You do feel his cock through his briefs, however for a short while as he wastes no time in pulling them down as well and letting his cock free from the confines. Glancing through your half-closed eyes, you watch his cock spring up and rest on lower abdomen; the tip adorns an alluring shade of red, glimmering with bits of precum and the veins on the shaft bulge out. He was girthy. As compared to Yunho and Seonghwa, he was a little smaller, but the girth compensated for it. The thought of your cunt being stretched around his cock brings butterflies in your stomach and you leak out even more, not forgetting about the vibrations either.

"Click a picture, hun. It'll last longer," he teases in a calm tone, "or maybe I should send you one."

You softly mumble something incoherent in your mind and nod your head without even realising what it was for. Jongho's hands slip down to your waist to stable your body before bucking his hips into yours. His girthy cock grinds onto your slit, the tip hitting your clit every time he rocked his hips up. You were driven into a frenzy from the heat of his cock rubbing on you and the buzzing of the vibrator inching you close to your orgasm. Though, Jongho toys with the remote again, after having fished it out from his pocket, and the setting lowers down a notch.

The silly pace of his cock grinding onto you makes you wrap your arms around his shoulders; you hold yourself in one place as Jongho buries his head in the crook of your neck. He leaves behind another couple of hickeys down your neck, and bites down on the ones he had already marked before. The wetness, the warmth, the touch of his tongue on your skin is all too much, in addition to the little endeavour he had taken on below. One of his hands slithers down to your thighs, gradually dragging closer to your cunt. He hooks his finger into the ring of vibrator hanging out to hold it place, while he nudges you with a bite on your neck.

"...just a minute, hun," he says, out of breath, palming the underside of your thighs to prop you up on your knees for a meagre moment. "Can you take it in?"

He questions you slyly, smoothening his thumbs on your skin to calm you down. You were taken aback by the question posed, rather than replying to him, you start sinking lower into his crotch. Carefully and gently, he aligns the tip of his cock with your cunt as you hold onto his shoulders to get much needed leverage.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck..."

You're chanting breathlessly, feeling his cock stretch out your walls, and not only that, but the numbing vibrations from the vibrator were sending you into a sensory overdrive. The dilemma was off putting, not knowing how the vibrator and his cock were fitting inside your tiny cunt. To be fair, it was a minuscule device which fit snug inside, continuing to vibrate its way to your long awaited and a very painful orgasm. Jongho's hands crawl up to cup your butt for a second then delicately graze past to the small of your back to help your body against his.

"Fuck—just—just swallowing me in like that...?" he taunts, "no wonder—ah hell!" he grunts under his breath as he bottoms out in you, filling you up with his length and girth; mostly his girth. Chuckling softly, he murmurs, "haha, no wonder the guys are and were so eager to fuck you. Honestly—fucking hell—honestly, this was worth the wait."

You mewl, "Jongho—can't—can't take it—fuck, I don't think I can—"

"Oh, hun. You'll have to hold out. I can't have you ruining my—fuck."

You're resting your head on his shoulder, arms moving down to entwine around his chest; he bucks his hips into yours, letting his cock plunge into you as he feels your walls tighten around him. He knew he wouldn't last too long with you clenching him out. So, he rather gets to it without wasting much time. A moan shatters your lungs when he picks up his pace. Even you start grinding your hips onto his, rolling them in eights to intensify the pleasure. The mellow vibrations of the vibrator were merely any distraction now, especially since it was stimulating both of you.

The whimper you had trapped in the back of your throat comes rushing out—you hadn't realised how full you'd be till now, considering Jongho's cock pushed the vibrator further inside you with every long thrust. He kept his pace steady regardless wanting to ruin you completely. One of his arms slides up your back to rest on your neck, while the other drops down to your ass. The warmth of his fingertips skimming around your asscheeks.

You knew where it was headed but were too over your edge to realise it, not that you cared at this point. Breathing hard, you bury your face into his chest. Drool slips out of your open mouth every time you try to breathe out—it stains your chin and rolls down to soak his shirt. The urge to have nothing between the two of you was overwhelming, meaning the shirt had to go. Somehow, all while keeping the tempo of your hips straight, you fumble with the buttons of his shirt, eagerly pulling them apart. Your desperation was admirable to him, he even goes as far as to let out an amused chuckle before slapping your ass lightly.

"Want to see me without it?" he muses, "you should be honoured to see me like this, you know."

You nod your head and tug at the ends of his shirt, watching it slip off till his shoulders obstructed it entirely falling off. His chest was on full display, making you drool even more at the sight of his slightly chubby belly and fleshy chest. You could bury your face in between his pecs and nuzzle your nose deep into it; that's a newly found urge for you.

"Have a—you have a good—have a good body, Jongs." You stutter, trying to keep your rhythm in synch with his thrusts.

"Yeah, you think so?"

"Hmhm, it's cute—really fucking cute—I love—I love a little squish."

A small breathless titter crosses his lips and lets a smile stay behind. Jongho's brows contort together, eyes closing; he had been tipped off the edge, only so slightly to urge himself to speed it up. The rhythm of your hips falters to the budding tension in your gut, while Jongho's thrusts pick up their pace and become more pronounced than before. Moans slip into the heated air between you two, mouths merely apart from each other. You had the urge to bite down on his plump lips, turn them a prominent shade of crimson but your thoughts are cut off by him when his finger protrudes into your other hole.

Your lungs crumple with a gasp, wanting to breathe again to ease out the stretch of your virgin hole; it was unlikely how comfortably his finger was slipping in, considering you had never been penetrated or done anything involving it.

"Jongho—Jongho, a little—a little faster, please," you mutter under your breath, feeling a little restless and overwhelmed by the pleasure washing over your body.

He chortles, heavy from the exertion, "desperate to cum, are we? Let's—let's grant you your wishes then."

Huffing out a breath, you nod your head in a daze while his cock plunges deep into you, although you were mostly losing yourself to the way his cock stretched you out and his finger playing with your hole. He lets his finger curl inside, pushing on the delicate wall of flesh between both of your holes; you were trembling with the urge to just come undone, having ceased your movements altogether. You let him do the work, let him buck his hips into yours. Your cunt swelled up to the tip of his cock pushing deeper, while his finger continued to press forward, confining his cock to your cervix, while it slid in and out. The way he had gotten you to tighten around him was clearly bringing his own high to the play.

"I'm going to—I'm so close, Jongs," you moan, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and burying your face into his chest. You were indeed close, feeling the burning sensation consume the pit of your stomach before straining one last time.

His half-lidded eyes fixate down on you, on how your lips were trapped under your teeth and how your eyes were squinted tight—he knew your orgasm was only a thrust away. Fumbling around to hold your waist with his free hand, he ruts his cock into you, letting it plunge a little further than before. You clench around him, urging to milk his cum out while he was buried so deep inside you. It takes for one drawling thrust of his to make you come undone, the knot appeasing itself in your gut while your juices dribble down and make a splash.

"Fuck, baby—you just—you just made a big mess on my cock."

Jongho suppresses an amused chuckle, noticing how your body quivered in his hold while he continued with his thrusts. You could feel him pulsate, sending tremors to your spine and mind; he throbs immensely as he moves, rocking his hips at an untamed pace to chase his high. Your clenching cunt was enough to tip him off, but the way he was playing with both of your holes and using the other to tauten your walls even better, made him curse out in a mere whisper before spilling himself into you, his cock twitching uncontrollably, still buried in you. The lurching waves of his orgasm get caught in your velvet walls, his warmth fills you up and while some leaks down your slick thighs, he empties himself completely into you.

"That..." he trails off, nudging your arm to pull you back, "everything's okay, right?"

You nod, arching your back to feel his limp cock and his finger sliding out of you. "I'm fine—but this—holy fuck, we—we should've done this sooner, don't you think?"

"You're telling me?" he scoffs, tangling his hands around your waist and letting them rest on the small of your back. "No wonder we had so much sexual tension trapped between us. The wait was worth it."

In the cold night breeze, you heave out a warm breath and peck his lips, giggling softly. "Indeed it was."

You're both breathless for a moment, arrested in each other's embrace to even feel the cold night air nipping at your bare skin. Jongho helps you crawl out of his lap and then, proceeds to lay you down, propping you up against the folded seats. Carefully, and gently, he pulls out the vibrator and flings it to a side; he then cleans you up, roughly with his handkerchief and drapes your body with his long coat. He promises to clean you up properly when the two of you get back home and you hold it against him.

Having a dizzy smile on your face the whole ride back to the apartment, you couldn't help yourself but ponder on the meagre feelings you felt towards Jongho. The untimely yet expected emotions bubbled under your skin because you had always wanted to be somebody to him. Jongho may not have a keen interest in expressing himself well, but he does it for you, he becomes a little more vocal when he's around you and takes pride in his kinks and desires. He knows what he wants from you and you know what you want from him; the two of you were strung together in a web of affection, perhaps even love.

In mere an hour, you find yourself in the apartment, in the darkened vestibule leading to the living room, muffling your feet against the floor till you're in the kitchen. There's no one lurking around, no sounds reverberate either, making you assume that everyone had fallen asleep. Though, it's the not same when Jongho closes the door behind him, causing a thud to collapse the absolute silence of the house—he clicks his tongue before putting his car keys in their designated place and wandering off to the kitchen with you.

He hugs you from behind and rests his chin on your shoulder, peeking over to observe your musings. The refrigerator was wide open, beams of light flooding out to fall on your faces—you were contemplating on picking out a snack; as usual, Seonghwa would keep a few containers of chopped fruits for you and the others, in case anyone had their hunger roiling their stomach in the middle of the night. You pick out a container consisting of chopped melon, and Jongho groans softly near your ear. Rolling your eyes, you put the container back and instead pick out an other one containing neatly diced papaya and watermelon. You're about to turn around and leave, when another set of footsteps emerge into the kitchen, sounding from behind you.

You grasp onto the refrigerator door, realising it was Yunho, shirtless, walking towards one of the cabinet counters to pull out a drawer; he rummages thoroughly through it, searching for something whilst his foreboding conscience wasn't fazed by you two. Something crinkles in the sullen serenity, and your attention falls onto a glimmering, foil-like, square pinched in his fingers. You had a clear doubt about what it was—nothing else shines like that, and what else would he need in the middle of the night if not that?

But you were proved wrong when he tore off the crinkly packet and pulled out, what deemed like, a candy. He popped it in his mouth and turned on his heels to walk out, not before addressing something to you two.

"As I said in the morning, don't fucking spoil the kitchen, ya freaks."

With that he leaves and you roll your eyes, Jongho lets out an amused laugh instead. "Next time, maybe?"

"Sure."

Though you were smiling back at Jongho, you couldn't really comprehend how possessive and overly envious you were getting over Yunho, and today's suspicion casts you a different light to see him through. Besides, the way your arrangement had been made with these seven men, you were worried about getting hurt by either of them. Because you never really had any luck with relationships—or the unrequited type of love.

To your uncertainty, Jongho flips you over and pushes you against the refrigerator, closing the door in the process. He buries his head into your neck, and peppers your skin with soft kisses.

"Round two in the shower?" he poses you a question and you let out a soft moan, "uh, Jongho..."

"Aw, is my honeybun tired?" he coos, biting a good chunk of your flesh.

You weren't. You just weren't in the mood after seeing Yunho like that.

"Not really," you answer, sighing softly, "well, you better make it quick." You knew he was grinning ear to ear, tracing it along your skin as it widens.

"Don't think that's possible, but no promises."

And your lazy eyes catch the glimpse of the teddy bear he had won for you, giving you the sense of comfort before slipping into the memories of the night, the same which happened a few minutes ago. Jongho was definitely going to ruin you, however you wondered if there was ever going to be anything more to you and Yunho in this arrangement. You smile at Jongho and let your lips spell out,

"My crazy, sex starved bear."

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